SLEEPY HOLLOW: General of the Dead (Jason Crane Book 3)

by Gleaves, Richard

  Valerie must have seen his expression, because she started playing some cheerful thing he didn’t know. Zef joined Joey on the narrow loveseat; they bumped knees and blushed. Jason noticed the moment. So. Things had progressed while he was away. Good for them. He sat down on the giant empty sofa, his eyes on Kate. Had they taken a step backward?

  “Wait,” said Zef. “Not to change the subject, but aren’t Jason and Kate Founders now? Both of them got pushed into the Spirit World, right?”

  Jason and Kate looked at each other. Jason felt that little zip of terror again. As if he’d become the mouse at midnight darting away from some predator, looking for a bolthole, for—

  “I beat him,” he and Kate and Joey all blurted, simultaneously.

  Kate held up a palm. “Okay. That’s freaky.”

  “You’ll have new powers now, right?” said Zef.

  “No,” said Valerie, abandoning the treble part to engage her valve. “Jason’s power is increasing, maybe. But he’ll have the same Gifts—he always had.”

  “And Kate?” said Zef.

  Kate paced. “She’s gone dark, remember? All Kate’s energy is in Loverboy here.”

  Jason gaped at her. “Loverboy? You know I’d give it back if I could.”

  “I know. I’m sorry. I’m feeling a little bitchy. I didn’t sleep well. Anyway, I asked Mather about the whole double-Founder thing. He says it’ll be a reset. Dark things should be readable again. So that’s something.”

  “It’s not much,” said Jason. “But if we can escape this Dead Zone, all of us will be back in action.”

  “Except me, of course,” said Kate.

  Jason studied her. He didn’t know Kate’s face as well as he knew Zef’s, or even Joey’s. Her cheeks had reddened and her lips were pressed tight, but she maintained an easy smile. Were they still strangers to each other? How much time had they spent together, really? Their adventure in the stables seemed forever ago, and their brief makeout session—in a different music room, bumping up against a different piano—might have occurred in another lifetime entirely. But Kate was still his Star-Maiden, and he wished she understood that.

  “We’ve got to solve this, guys,” she said, commanding the center of the room like Princess Leia giving a PowerPoint of Death Star blueprints. “I think I have a plan.”

  Valerie stopped playing. “A brilliant plan.”

  “Actually, it was Irving’s idea.”

  “Washington Irving’s?” said Joey, his voice full of suppressed mirth.

  Kate drummed her fingertips on the piano lid. “Yes, Joey. Washington Irving’s. Do you have a problem?”

  “Was he a firefly too?”

  Zef rolled his eyes. “Inappropriate, baby.”

  “Sorry. I’m just glad to be comic relief again.” Joey arranged his face until it approached semi-serious. “I’m done. I swear. Tell us your brilliant plan, Tink.”

  Kate circled to the keyboard and tapped a white note silently. “We find… her bones.” She let the idea sink in. “Agathe’s bones—her actual skeletal remains—are under Jason’s house somewhere.”

  “Do we know that?” said Zef.

  “You read Dylan’s story,” said Jason. “Agathe was in her pantry on the night of September second, eighteen-fifty. The dam up in Croton broke, and the aqueduct flooded. They never found her body. She’s not in the Van Brunt tomb, and that’s why she’s not—”

  “A slave of the Horseman,” blurted Joey.

  “A slave of the Horseman.”

  “Sorry to interrupt.”

  “No you’re not.”

  Zef scratched his ear. “Maybe she just washed away.”

  “No,” said Jason. “If she did, she wouldn’t be haunting Gory Brook. She’s down there, if we can find her.” He shuddered, picturing the cellar, the veins of red brick, the altar of skulls, the torture implements all in a row. He’d rather chew rusty nails than brave that dark again.

  “Okay,” said Joey. “We find her bones. Then what?”

  Kate touched Valerie’s shoulder. “Show them.”

  Valerie drew a bundle out, reverently. It was about four inches by six, wrapped in white silk yellowed with age. “Kate found this—in her pocket.”

  Zef and Joey rose and leaned over Valerie. She unwrapped the silk scarf, revealing a book—like a little bible—its black leather cover tattered, its ancient pages still wet from the lighthouse jump.

  “What is it?” said Zef.

  Valerie fought to keep her hand still as she engaged her valve. “It’s a grimoire.”

  “Mother Hulda’s grimoire,” said Jason, standing. “Agathe was carrying it when we drove her out.”

  “I’ve been studying it.” Valerie opened the cover. The scribble inside was completely illegible, as if she held a bound first edition of collected doctor’s prescriptions.

  Zef was fascinated. “You can read that?”

  “It’s like—the language is inside me.”

  Joey patted her back. “Good job, Rosetta.”

  “Try out a spell,” said Kate.

  Valerie scowled over the pages. “This book is full of—dark stuff. I’d stand back.”

  They widened their circle around the piano. Valerie decided on some spell, raised a hand, and muttered a string of gibberish. It had a music of its own, like Gregorian chant. Jason tensed, wondering if Joey would transform into a frog, if Zef’s shoelaces would knot, or if the walls would bleed.

  Nothing happened.

  Valerie shrugged. “I’ll need to be out of—the Dead Zone. My mother always said—I could do it.”

  “Tell them about the spell you found,” said Kate.

  Valerie turned to a page. “Here. It’s for—binding a spirit. Like what Agathe did—to the Horseman. We couldn’t command her. But she’d be—”

  “Imprisoned,” said Jason. “Unable to hurt anyone.”

  “So, that’s my plan.” Kate folded her arms. “We’ll bind the bitch to her bones.”

  Valerie’s face filled with dark anticipation. She had a score to settle. “Just get them to me. I’ve memorized the spell.”

  “Okay,” said Zef. “This is good. This is feeling… doable.” He wasn’t really convinced. Jason knew his cousin’s expressions well enough by now. Zef’s jaw was tight and his thick eyebrows jousted. He was terrified beyond all measure and just trying to keep their spirits up.

  Jason forced a smile and summoned all the confidence he could muster. “Yeah. It’s completely doable. We’ve got her now.” He sounded scared to himself, so he added in his Darth Vader voice, “There’ll be no one to stop us this time.”

  “What’s with the scarf?” said Joey, holding it up.

  “Agathe mentioned it,” said Jason. “She took it from the Horseman’s saddlebags the night he died.”

  Joey cringed, holding the scarf out like a shed snakeskin.

  Zef took it. “Could this be useful? Could you read it maybe? Agathe could have been wearing this when she died.”

  Jason took the scarf and shoved it in his pocket. “I’ll have to try later. Dead Zone. My hands have stopped glowing.”

  A guard passed the door of the music room. Valerie straightened, put the grimoire down, and resumed her concert, playing a delicate Chopin nocturne. Joey clapped softly, proclaiming, “Brava. Brava.” Kate waved a finger, conducting, until the guard disappeared again.

  “I hate to bring this up,” said Joey. “But even if we take Agathe down, there’s still a Headless Horseman out there.”

  “And my dad,” said Zef.

  “One thing at a time,” said Jason. “Agathe first.”

  “But if we bind her bones,” said Joey, “who controls the Horseman?”

  “We do,” said Kate. “With the reliquary.”

  “No,” snapped Jason. “No one’s using that thing. Ever. If Agathe’s gone, maybe the Horseman will just… go away.” Jason wished he believed this. He knew better. The Horseman would never “just go away,” not as long as a descendant of Wil
liam Crane still lived. “So—Dead Zone. How do we escape without getting shot?”

  They sat in silence.

  “We go up,” said Valerie, brightening. “The tower is high enough. I doubt the zone—extends that far—above the tree line.”

  “We’d still have to come back down,” said Zef. “What good is that?”

  “Are you kidding?” said Joey. “Get me up there and I’ll bust heads.”

  “Don’t bust heads,” said Kate. “I know some of these guards.”

  Valerie raised the spell-book. “I might be able—to break the whole Zone—with this. I’ll look for something. Okay?”

  “Keep it,” said Kate. “It’s useless to us.”

  Valerie pressed the grimoire to her heart. “You have no idea—what this could mean—for my family. It’s the only spell-book—in the wild. The Appointed have—censored the craft—my entire lifetime.”

  “I won’t tell my dad,” said Kate.

  This worried Jason. He didn’t want to disrupt some balance of power in the supernatural world.

  “Can we even get up to the tower?” said Joey.

  Jason shrugged. “We can try.”

  “And the aqueduct?” said Zef. “How do we get down there?”

  “Joey can dig us in. It runs right past this place.”

  “Can you do it, Peter Pan?” said Kate.

  “I guess, Thumbelina, but—” Joey looked sheepish. “I’m sorry, guys. I can’t go spelunking. If we get out, I need to go to my dad.”

  Zef rubbed Joey’s back. “It’s cool. We get it.”

  Joey’s face darkened and he rubbed his eyes. “Anything in that grimoire to protect someone who’s cursed?”

  “The grimoires—predate the Curse. They’re ancient.”

  Joey looked desperate. “There’s got to be a way to save him.”

  “Zef,” Jason blurted. “You’re a Pyncheon.”

  “Yeah? So are you.”

  “No, see? You’re a full telepath. I didn’t mention this before, but I kind of saw my parents, and—”

  “Were they fireflies?” Joey sniffed.

  “Shut up. And they said that if I ever cursed someone, a Pyncheon could undo it. Make them forget.”

  Kate pulled up a chair and sat. “So Zef could un-curse Joey’s dad?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Duh!” said Zef, striking himself in the forehead. “My mom did that once! She came out to Hadewych and almost got him squashed by an engine block.”

  “That would have been a tragedy,” muttered Jason.

  “But she wiped his memory and he was safe again.”

  Joey looked at Zef, his eyes wide and hero-worshipping. “You’d do that for me?”

  “I’d do anything for you.”

  Joey leaned forward, about to kiss Zef, but glanced at Kate and thought better of it.

  “One problem,” said Jason. “That means we lose you both.”

  “It’s okay,” said Kate. “You and I can do the searching.”

  Jason took a deep breath. “Okay. Joey, just get us into the aqueduct and then you and Zef can go help your dad. After you’re done, head to the millpond and keep an eye on things there.”

  “How can we keep in touch?” said Joey.

  Jason tapped his temple. “Maybe Zef and I—”

  “Forget it,” said Zef. “Telepathy won’t work. I can’t hear you from far off.”

  “Okay. Ideas?”

  “I could get your cell phones,” someone said. They turned. Lisa Mayfair had appeared at Jason’s elbow.

  Joey stepped forward. “How long have you been standing there?”

  “Long enough to know you’re jail-breaking. Take me with? I’m bored.” She gave an elaborate Lucille Ball pout. Her red hair only emphasized the resemblance.

  Joey inspected her dubiously, as if trying to decide if she was an original artwork or a forger’s clever copy. “You can get our cellphones back?”

  “They’re under Mather’s desk. My mom works in there. We have the run of the place. Whose bones are we binding?”

  “Tell you what,” said Kate, standing. “Meet us in the tower at midnight. If you bring the cells, you can come with.”

  “Kate—” said Joey, giving his head a tiny shake.

  “Mather would notice me,” Kate said. “Lisa might be able to get them.”

  “And extra hands can’t hurt,” said Jason.

  “Wunderbar! I’m on it!” Lisa gave a bow and exited stage left.

  Joey looked pained. “You’ve brought doom upon us, Kate Usher.”

  “Why? I know the Mayfairs. Lisa seems nice.”

  “Doom, destruction, and despair.”

  “So are we good?” said Jason. “We’ll meet in the tower at midnight. If it’s out of the Zone, we’ll find a way to leverage it. Joey will get us into the aqueduct, then he and Zef will go watch the millpond. Good luck with your dad. Kate and I, and maybe that girl Lisa, will go looking for the bones and, uh… Valerie, you practice the binding spell. Anything else?”

  “Yes,” said Zef.

  Valerie looked… scared, suddenly. “But it may be nothing.”

  “It’s not nothing,” said Zef, “and you know it.”

  “What?” said Kate.

  Valerie sighed. “Zef and I—have been doing tarot readings.”

  “Zef does tarot?” said Joey.

  “Duh.” Zef cocked a thumb. “Look who raised me.”

  Valerie gave a little bow. “He’s actually—a good diviner.”

  “Do we have time for this?” said Jason. Mucking around with tarot cards right now felt like ignoring a forest fire to read Archie Comics.

  “Believe me,” said Zef. “You’ll want to see this.”

  The little trickle of terror came back. The hunted, mouse-in-a-trap feeling. The clocks of Lyndhurst struck nine, their bells tolling through the lonely marble halls, like the bell atop the lighthouse, like the bell down in Agathe’s pantry, like the iron clock of Stone Barns, like the bell of the Old Dutch Church, or the ancient cauldron-note of the Great Curse itself.

  “What is it?” said Jason.

  “The weirdest thing I ever saw,” said Zef. “And it’s all about… you.”

  CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

  “The Major Arcana”

  “So what are we looking at?” said Jason.

  Valerie had laid out twenty-one cards in three rows of seven, then had added the Fool all by himself at the very top. Jason’s eyes flicked over the colorful images, but nothing jumped out at him. The cards were like panels in a comic book, each telling one frame of a different story, higgledy-piggledy. He was tensing up already. This had better be good.

  “I missed the pattern before,” said Valerie. “Because I didn’t know—what Zef knows—about you. About your life—this past year.”

  “What do you mean, my life?”

  “Zef, can you take over?” Valerie stepped aside, and Jason got the distinct feeling that their discovery had rattled her and—and she didn’t want to be the one who told him.

  Joey and Kate sensed the vibes, too. They stood to one side, holding each other around the waist, puzzled and worried.

  Zef waved a hand over the cards. “I think your life this past year has been… I don’t know… predestined.”

  “Okay.” Jason held up a palm. “I’m getting a headache already. ‘Predestined’?”

  “Bear with me. Look at the spread. These twenty-two aren’t the entire tarot deck. Take out the court cards and suits—no pentacles, wands, et cetera—and this is what’s left. These are the Major Arcana. The biggies, the serious cards. Mega-powerful. They symbolize fundamental human experiences. They aren’t random either. They’re numbered. You can see the little roman numerals at the top. The Major Arcana form a cycle, known as the Journey of the Fool.”

  “So I’m the Fool again,” said Jason.

  “The cards never lie,” said Zef, with a nod to Valerie. She prodded him on, like a proud parent watching her child’s violi
n recital.

  Zef gathered the deck, posing like a nightclub magician about to pull the Ace of Spades out of Jason’s ear. “The Fool is the first card, and his number is zero.”

  He laid it down on the piano lid.

  Jason knew this card. Valerie had called it his “significator” many a time. “The Fool is me, right? He’s come to town with all his possessions in a bundle. He’s got his fruity little tunic and boots…”

  “Watch it, Crane,” said Joey. “That’s my spring collection.”

  “Sorry. He’s got a dog, like Charley, barking at his heels, trying to warn him. But he’s too distracted by visions and doesn’t see the chasm opening up at his feet. Am I close?”

  “Pretty good,” said Zef. “The Fool is the… everyman. This is you on the day you moved to Sleepy Hollow. One year ago.”

  “If you say so. And some of the other cards show my life?”

  “That’s what I’m trying to tell you, man. They all do.”

  Zef laid down five more cards in rapid succession.

  “These are the Arcana one through five. The Magician, the High Priestess, the Empress, the Emperor, and the Hierophant reversed. Every card of the Arcana represents an obstacle in the Fool’s Journey. Do any look familiar?”

  Jason had no idea what Zef was getting at. He just saw weirdos in silly outfits. “Sorry, man. You’re losing me already.”

  “I’ll give you a hint. They’re all Van Brunts.”

  Zef tapped card number one. It bore a figure in robes standing at a table, holding up some kind of stick. The figure wore a sweatband across his forehead. An infinity symbol hovered above him.

  “The Magician,” said Zef. “The card of the illusionist. The card of…” He looked uncomfortable. “Of the con man.”

  “Three guesses,” said Kate.

  “He came up in—a reading of mine once,” said Valerie. “The night Eliza passed. I knew it who it was—immediately.”

  “So,” said Jason. “The Fool comes to town and meets Hadewych Van Brunt.”

  “Poor Fool,” said Joey, with sympathy.

  Zef pointed at the image. “Check it out. That’s a candle he’s holding up. Fire in his hand, get it? And if that’s my dad, who do you think this is?” He moved on to card number two. The High Priestess. A woman with a bizarre headdress and white robes, seated between two pillars.