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The pain was like nothing that he had ever felt before in his life. His skin felt as if it had regrown after a horrific burning. Abraham dropped to his knees, holding his head while veins and muscles in his neck reconnected again to his body. Henry kneeled beside him with his hand on his shoulder, chanting words to try and lessen the pain, but it was futile. Abraham's entire body shook as wails of pain ripped from his mouth. The power that accompanied the pain only prolonged his agony. Henry added more passion to his words as the white fog began to roll down the street and enveloped the Horseman.
"Abraham," the blonde-haired man did not answer as he lay on the ground with his eyes closed. Henry laid his hand on Abraham's chest and felt his solid heartbeat. He was whole now, and Moloch would come for him once he felt the lost connection. He would know then that his Horseman of death was free and now his greatest enemy. Abraham opened his eyes and stared up at the full moon. The night seemed different to him now. Life seemed to flourish instead of death. He felt Henry shaking him, trying to get his attention.
"Abraham, are you okay?"
"I feel... freedom."
Henry smiled down at him and then helped him sit up. A sound coming from Abbie's home prompted both men to stare in that direction as Henry helped the Horseman stand. Ichabod walked from the house, angry and swatting at imaginary entities. Something controlled him. Something sinister and dangerous would take his life. Abraham watched the spectacle for a moment before turning towards Henry. The Warlock refused to look at his friend. He did not need to speak a word to Abraham because he already knew that Ichabod was in the grip of a powerful hex. The guilty Warlock could feel the frown that crossed the Horseman's face. Henry threw his hands up and faced Abraham. "This was before I knew that you coveted Miss Abigail Mills."
"He will die."
Henry looked at his father as he stumbled around as if drunk. "Death is not my objective."
"Who is the hex for?"
"Both my father and the witch,"
"You must remove it. As much as I would love to see Ichabod suffer, I do not wish to see Abbie worry about him. I cannot take his head now. You must remove the hex."
A deep frown appeared across Henry's brow. The hex was his most extraordinary spell because it grew stronger when his father was around Abigail. "He will be weak."
"Then you will protect him." War looked at his master as if expecting him to agree with the Horseman of death. But, instead, Henry's disgust was on his face for all to see. His body shook with anger at the thought of protecting Ichabod Crane, his father preserved through time by a powerful spell and then awakened to fight evil.
"How can you ask me to do that? He abandoned me. He has no love for me."
"He did not know that you existed, Henry. The Ichabod that I knew would not have left you behind. You are his blood. You are his seed. How can you want your father to suffer?" Henry turned from Abraham and stared at his pathetic father standing at the end of Abigail's walkway, staring blankly at her door. He wanted to go back inside her home.
