I scoff, unable to stop myself. All his talk of protecting me, and he tries to take away the one person who I had really connected with since arriving back in this godforsaken town. Ichabod had understood me, had really seen me and had made my grief feel just that little bit smaller. I didn’t have the words to describe what we are, but I had been excited to find out. And my father had conspired to blame a spate of serial killings on him and then sacrifice him to the Headless Horseman.Dad of the year over there.
“Oh, so this is you caring for me?” The sarcasm bites from my tongue.
My father’s jaw tightens. “I do care. I warned you to stay away from Ichabod. He was a convenient solution. He doesn’t have any other family in Sleepy Hollow. This would have protected you and ensured the safety of the town.”
I can’t believe what I’m hearing. He sounds so cold, so detached. This is how he chooses to protect me?
I can barely comprehend it. My father, a secret society, ritual sacrifices? I don’t know him at all.
My head is spinning. I can’t think about it. I need to focus on one thing at a time.
“Well, you’re not sacrificing Ichabod.” I realise as the words leave my mouth how lame I must sound. “I don’t want you to sacrifice anyone. There must be another way.”
“There isn’t,” my father says simply.
“Haven’t enough people been killed already?” I protest. “I won’t let you kill anyone else.”
The priest steps forward, his hand going inside his robes for the knife. “The Horseman is coming,” he warns. “If we don’t act, he won’t stop until all of our Order is dead. After that, he will reach full strength and roam this world unbound. He’ll be free to take this town. He will take all of it.”
I square my shoulders, swallowing my fear. “We can find another way, one that doesn’t involve more murder.”
Ichabod is looking up at me, and the three men study me. I have no idea what my father is thinking.
The silence is broken by the police chief. “Then you’d better come up with something fast.”
The candles flicker, throwing light and shadows. Out in the night, I hear the distant sound of hoofbeats.
21
The sound of hooves thudding against the ground outside sends a shockwave of fear through us all. I freeze, every muscle in my body seizing up as the rhythmic snorting of a horse comes closer. Ichabod grips my wrist in his bound hands, his fingers tight around my skin. My father and his two men exchange tense glances, standing rigid as the realisation of what’s coming crashes over us.
Everything hangs still in a moment of ominous silence. And then the tall, arched windows explode inward, glass raining down, and a cold blast of night air floods the room as the Horseman comes crashing through. The force of it sends me stumbling backward, my ears ringing with the sound of the shattering panes and splintering wood. I barely catch myself, my boots slipping on the smooth stone floor as I scramble to stay upright. My heart pounds so violently that it drowns out all other noise.
The Horseman lands with a deafening thud, his monstrous black steed stamping its hooves, crunching fragments of glass beneath its weight. The red glow of the candles flickers wildly, shadows warping and twisting against the walls like living things. Then the light is snuffed out. The moonlight pouring through the broken glass is now the only source to see by.
The man atop the horse is even more real than before. No longer just swirling shadow, the leather of his uniform is now darker, more solid.
Someone lets out a strangled scream, and the room erupts into chaos.
“Run!” my father yells, his voice raw with urgency.
We scatter.
Ichabod grabs my hand and pulls me away. His grip is firm as we sprint towards the doors at the end of the hall. Behind us, the horse stamps the ground and lets out a long snort.
The Horseman charges. His steed’s hooves clatter against the floor, and I hear the air part as he swings his heavy sword. I risk a glance over my shoulder and see the blade strike where the priest had been standing just moments before, but the old man has already fled, his robes whipping behind him as he bolts out of a side door.
The Horseman veers diagonally, forcing us to abandon our sprint for the main doors and move sideways instead. We’ve been herded into a corner. He halts abruptly, the stallion rearing back on his hind legs. I can feel the Horseman’s attention burning into me, and my legs turn to jelly as I look at the place where his head should be. Does he see me?
But the Horseman doesn’t move, doesn’t attack. He looms above us, his blade lowering slightly.
“Kat, move!” Ichabod shouts, snapping me out of the trance.
I dive to the side as the Horseman urges his horse forward again. But he isn’t coming for us. He pulls his mount aroundsharply and gallops toward the corridor where the police chief has disappeared. I lean back against the wall.
“What the hell was that?” I ask breathlessly.
I can see Ichabod thinking. “You heard them. The Horseman must only be after members of the Order, so he can return to full strength. Until then, he isn’t interested in us.”
