The Lady From Sleepy Hollow

Mary

Katrina and I wait for the time of day to be closer to after noon before we decide to go after Ichabod and young Masbath. It'd be easier for us to sneak out when it is darker.

Katrina sits patiently, reading a book about spells and compendiums. I never was too fond of the demonstrations of witchcraft, but in some cases I indeed found it necessary. I watch her read peacefully.

"Katrina?" I ask her quietly. She looks up at me with her mossy green eyes.

"Yes?"

"Could magic keep Ichabod safe?" I wonder in a soft tone. A smile tugs at her lips as she shuts her book and stands up.

"Of course it can, sister. In fact, I was looking at some spells just then," she cheers in a hushed tone. I return her smile and sigh.

"I want to protect our protector at any given cost. And I feel that I may need your help on this," I whisper, taking her hands in mine.

A grin spreads across her face and she exclaims, "My pleasure!"

We both gather our needed belongings, clasp on our cloaks, and head down to the stables. On the way there, as we keep to the shadows, I inquire, "What steed am I to take?"

"We both can ride on mine. She's strong enough," Katrina answers, and I simply nod.

Upon reaching the stables, we mount into Katrina's noble steed, and gallop off into the Western Woods to Ichabod's aid.

________ Ichabod ________

No one indeed has come to join me on my venture. Young Masbath and I ride alone, our horses loaded up for the expedition. The Western Woods are dark, gnarled and creepy, I take note as we move through them.

​"The Van Garretts. The Widow Winship. Your father Jonathan Masbath. And now Philipse," I say aloud to young Masbath, glancing at him. "Something must connect them... Did your father have dealings with the Van Garretts?"

​​Young Masbath casts me a short curious look, and explains, "He worked for them. We lived in the coach house."

I halt my horse, surprised, looking at him with a furrowed brow. The boy shrugs a little and continues, "It's nothing."

I purse my lips and study the ground, not entirely sure of the possible connection I am forming. Young Masbath pulls me from my thoughts as he tells me in a quieter tone, "But there was something happened one night a week before the murder. An argument upstairs between father and son. And my father was later sent for by Mr. Van Garrett."

​​I raise a questioning brow at him and squint my eyes, shifting my gaze to the path ahead of me in thought. "An argument between father and son..."

I murmur to myself, thoughtfully, "After which, the elder Van Garrett sent for his servant, Masbath..."

Out of the corner of my eye, I see young Masbath look around. "Listen."

My focus flies to him, and I then look up at the trees, listening closely. I raise my brows in dismay and observe bluntly, "I hear nothing."

​"Nor I," he admits. His eyes travel up to the trees, and I begin to grow uneasy. "No birds. No crickets. It's all gone so quiet."

I note this nervously, and look around. A snapping of a branch is heard afar. I turn to look back, feeling anxious of the forestry around me. I back up Gunpowder a little to try and get a view behind the trees, but my fear takes over me.

Young Masbath looks at me, and I flash him a curt panicky grin, urging, "Quicken pace."

I gee up my horse, as does my assistant. We break into a fast trot. And I swear something was watching us as we pass through.