“Well, yeah, but not the main part of the cemetery. There’s a section right at the back. No one goes there anymore. It’s not very big, and the graves are kind of simple, you know? No big tombstones, just small markers. If they put him anywhere, I’d guess it would be in there.”
It’s not much to go on, and Brom doesn’t sound overly confident, but it’s a start. And even as we sit here, I’m aware of time ticking by. Who knows when the Horseman will attack next? We need to get going.
It doesn’t seem like much of a plan, but right now it’s the only one we have.
31
“Okay, that’s our first stop, then,” I say, slapping my thighs and starting to stand. Ichabod also gets to his feet and moves towards the living room door.
“Great, just let me change into some real clothes,” Brom says.
I pause. I hadn’t expected him to come with us, but I suppose we can cover more ground with three than with two.
“Uh, yeah, sure.”
“Cool, I’ll just be a minute.” He moves past us and out into the hall. We hear his footsteps on the stairs and then up above. After a few minutes, we hear a shower start to run.
We both raise our eyes to the ceiling, and then to each other.
Ichabod sighs. “He knows time is of the essence here?”
“I guess I’ll sit back down.” I drop back into the chair heavily.
Ichabod starts to pace the length of the living room, each step increasing in tension.
“I don’t know if this is going to work,” I admit after a few beats. “What if we don’t find anything?” The fear of another one of myplansending in failure claws its way up my spine.
“You could stay here,” I continue, “where it’s safe. My family is too wrapped up in this, but you don’t have to be.” There’s a tightness in my chest.
Maybe the scariest thing isn’t the vengeful ghost. Maybe it’s the way Ichabod makes me feel.
He comes to stop in front of me and crouches down.
“Kat, you can’t really think I’d let you face this alone?” he says, taking my hands.
“But it’s dangerous out there…”
“I know what’s out there. I know what you’re risking. That’s exactly why I won’t let you go without me.” He squeezes my hands, and I can see the conviction in his face. Then his lips curve into a smile. “Also, stay behind? And miss the chance to watch you be utterly terrifying in the face of danger? Not a chance.”
I can’t help but laugh.
He leans in, forehead pressed against mine, breath warm against my lips. “But if something does happen —”
“No, don’t,” I whisper against his lips. “Don’t say it.”
The kiss is fierce. His hands are in my hair, mine grip is shirt collar. But this is not a goodbye kiss.
There’s a creak on the stairs, and Brom pokes his head around the door.
“We ready to go, or what?” he asks.
By the time we reach the graveyard, it’s mid-morning, but I can barely tell.
The sun hasn’t risen, or if it has, it’s hidden behind such a dense grey cloud that no light is shining through. Brom said that the older, smaller part of the cemetery isn’t used anymore, butit seems like the main part isn’t either, judging by the amount of rust on the wrought iron gates. They creak loudly as Ichabod and Brom pull them open, Ichabod trying to hide the discomfort from his shoulder wound. I glance around anxiously, as if the noise is a klaxon that will alert the Horseman to our plans.
The graveyard is overgrown, vines and ivy snaking up and over towering headstones that are cracked and crumbling under their strain. The inscriptions have been worn down by time, and I struggle to make out many of the names or dates.
We follow Brom’s lead and make our way down the main path, towards the older burial plots. A wizened tree sits in one corner, covered in crows with dark, beady eyes. I shiver as I remember the original Katrina writing about how they watched her.
