Sleepy Hollow: Bridge of Bones

by Richard Gleaves

  He has my eyes, Hadewych thought. My eyes and my hair and my smile. He even has my voice.

  “Are you a good man, Daddy?”

  Hadewych shook his head. “Of course I am.” He looked Zef in the eye and reached into his endless bag of tricks. “I had nothing to do with any of those murders.”

  Zef searched his father’s face. He relaxed, looking satisfied. He smiled and hugged his dad. No. Hadewych corrected himself. He hugged his father.

  “Zef, why don’t you make us some dinner?”

  “Okay. Sure. What do you want?”

  “Anything you choose is fine.”

  Zef nodded and went to the kitchen. He took down pots and pans, ran water. “Pasta. Pasta sounds good.”

  “Pasta sounds wonderful.” Hadewych rose and went into the living room. He picked up the Dylan letter. “And I—I am going to get rid of this.”

  “Don’t. It’s a hundred and fifty years old.”

  “Just the ranting of a lunatic. It’s time to get rid of it. For the sake of the family, you know. Look at all the silly ideas it put into your head. What if an outsider read it? We need to protect our name.” He tore the translations from the plastic sleeves, one by one. He removed the parchment from the slips and gathered it in shaking hands. These pages were all he had left from his mother. But they’d almost cost him his son and he would not let that happen. Never. Nothing and no one would take his son from him.

  He raised a hand and lit a fire in the hearth with his Gift. A searing pain tore through his hand. The skin became red and scalded and fat blisters rose there. Hadewych gaped at it, uncomprehending…

  Why? I’ve done nothing to feel guilty for. I lied for his sake, not mine. The less he knows the better. I love him. Of course I love Zef… I’m his dad.

  Hadewych dropped a page of old Dutch onto the fire. The flames embraced it. A black spot bloomed at center, spread, and consumed the words. He gave up another page. It too caught. Blackness dashed across its face, consuming it. He went on. Page after page. Over and over. Ashes to ashes.

  I’m burning, whispered Dylan.

  Oh… Oh, how I burn…

  CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

  “Coupling”

  The stain on the hillside spread. The people of the Tarrytowns locked their doors. They watched their neighbors from behind closed curtains, hearts full of suspicion and apprehension. Bars appeared at every window, as if Valerie had been hired to remodel the entire town. On June first, the village council quite rightly decided to cancel “Sunset Jazz at Lyndhurst Manor.” On June eighth, “Pirates of the Hudson” did not take place at Sunnyside. Sleepy Hollow graduation ceremonies and commencement exercises were canceled. Outgoing seniors would receive their diplomas by mail.

  Yet on the morning of July fourth, three trucks from Mikaya Pyrotechnics passed through the gates of the former GM plant, rolled over the weedy asphalt, and parked, disgorging racks of Chinese-made whiz-bang, like rows of cannon aimed at the summer sky. After all, the Tarrytowns prided themselves on their patriot past and no mysterious rampage by unidentified perps would change that. Of course, safety precautions were announced, police presence increased, and Mayor Nielsen lectured townsfolk to keep their heads on their shoulders. But the fireworks would begin, as promised, at dusk.

  Jason dropped the diary into Valerie’s lap.

  “It’s all we’ve got,” he said.

  Valerie inspected the book, leaning back in her chair and turning over the empty pages thoughtfully. Plates of half-eaten sandwiches littered her parlor. Kate stood by the fireplace, drinking a Gatorade. Joey had taken the second chair and sat licking Dorito dust from his fingers. Jason paced. He was picturing the grave-rubbings again, the rubbings that he and Eliza had made, hanging like carnival banners across this room on the night of the Proposal. William begat Ichabod who begat Absalom who begat Jesse who begat Jack who begat Adam who begat Andrew—who begat Jason, Jason who would end this nightmare. He put a hand to his forehead and yawned—the Nightmare was so vivid now. He had died so many times this spring. Today was July fourth—how many nights had there been? How many times had he died at the bridge?

  Sie sterben an der Brücke…

  SIE STERBEN AN DER BRÜCKE!

  He shook away the memory. “That piece of paper I told you about is inside the rip in the cover. We have that, too, if it’s useful at all. But we’ve got to read the diary.”

  Valerie wore a blue valve today, robin’s-egg blue, to match her summer dress. “What do you—expect me to do?”

  “Whatever you can,” said Kate.

  “I don’t understand,” said Joey. “Jase, if the book is faded, why don’t you just… restore it with your Gift?”

  Joey reached for the diary but Jason snatched it before he could leave orange fingerprints. “I thought of that,” Jason said, “but I can only use my Gift on something once… and the day I found this diary in the tomb I read it. I had a vision of Agathe and Dylan. The book’s dark to me.” He turned to Valerie. “But there’s got to be a way.”

  “Tell me again—” said Valerie, “—what the letter said?”

  Jason tried to remember. “Something like ‘I will put a lock on it so that nobody but my heir can read it.’”

  “Then you need Zef,” said Valerie.

  Jason shook his head. “Zef looked at the thing. So did Hadewych. Both of them thought it was useless and blank.”

  “I don't know—what to tell you,” said Valerie. “None of our Gifts—can break a spell like this one.”

  “And I don’t even have my Gift,” said Kate.

  Joey raised a hand. “Anybody need a houseplant exploded?”

  Valerie patted Jason’s elbow. “Your Gift might have worked—but I don’t know—what else could.”

  “People are dying,” said Jason. “Agathe is doing it. This is killing far beyond what I think Hadewych is capable of.”

  Valerie nodded. “I agree.”

  “The ghost is crazy. How do we fight her?”

  Kate sat on the hearth. “Could we exorcise her somehow?”

  “Where’s her grave?” said Valerie.

  Jason shrugged. “She doesn’t have one. Her body was lost.”

  Joey raised a finger. “I’ve got a thought.”

  “Shoot,” said Kate.

  “If Agathe’s not buried in the cemetery,” said Joey, sounding proud of himself. “Then that is why she isn’t—”

  “A slave of the Horseman,” said Jason, nodding excitedly.

  “A slave of the Horseman,” Joey continued. “You know, Jase, I love being your sidekick and all, but Harry Potter lets Ron finish his sentences.”

  “Sorry. Go on.”

  Joey shrugged. “That’s all I had.”

  Jason sat on the hearth, next to Kate. “Come on. Everybody think. Is there anything we can do? Could we make the book un-dark so I could restore it?”

  “No,” said Kate, taking his hand and turning it palm-up. “It’s like a charge. But it’s not a charge in the object, really. More like in you. There are things that are dark to my dad but he gives them to me and I can read them.”

  “I don’t like this,” said Valerie. “I’m uncomfortable—discussing the Gifts—of people not in—the room.”

  “No one here is getting cursed,” said Joey.

  Valerie pointed. “If Kate has lost her Gift—then she might be.”

  Kate shook her head. “If the Curse worked that way I would have been toast a long time ago. Everything may be dark to me but I’m not a normal.”

  Jason snapped his fingers. “The dance floor. Can people share their powers?”

  “What are you thinking?” said Joey.

  “I don’t know,” said Jason. “Maybe I could give my Gift to you and you could restore the diary, or maybe we could all share powers. Could we? The four of us?”

  “In what way?” said Valerie, looking strange.

  “You know. Link hands and share our energies or some shit like that.”

&nb
sp; Valerie smiled, embarrassed, and covered her face. “No, Jason. I’m not going to—couple with you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Never mind.”

  “No. What?”

  “It’s not really—appropriate to discuss it. It’s a… sexual thing.”

  “What’s a sexual thing?” said Joey, sitting up straight.

  Valerie touched Joey’s shoulder. “Jason just suggested—innocently—that the four of us—have sex.”

  Jason frowned. “No, I didn’t.”

  She nodded. “You sort of did. It’s called coupling. Your parents—should really be—the ones to discuss this with you all.”

  “My dad’s a prude,” said Kate.

  “My parents are dead,” said Jason.

  “And mine are Muggles,” said Joey.

  Valerie shifted uncomfortably. “When two people—love each other—very much…”

  “You can skip the birds and the bees,” said Jason.

  “When a boy—and a girl—” She glanced at Joey. “—or some other combination—are open and receptive to—one another, they can have, well…”

  “Magical sex?” said Kate.

  Valerie blushed. “Yes. You trade your energies. It’s kind of—a perk for our kind. I’m told it’s—very pleasurable.”

  “You’ve never done it?” said Joey.

  “That’s personal,” said Kate.

  Valerie shook her head. “I’ve never been with—a Gifted man. Knowingly.” She reddened. “I shouldn’t be having this discussion—with you three. You’re too young. “

  Jason glanced at Kate. Their eyes met. Yes, she’d had the same thought.

  Kate turned to Valerie. “Could two people couple… accidentally?”

  Valerie considered. “I don’t see how they could. I guess… If they had—complimentary gifts.”

  “Like past and future?” said Jason, linking his fingers with Kate’s.

  Now Valerie understood. “Describe what happened.”

  “Yeah,” said Joey, pulling his chair forward. “Let’s hear all the horny details.”

  “We were dancing,” said Kate.

  “Slow dancing,” said Jason.

  “I put my hands around his neck, and—”

  “I had my palm pressed to the skin of her back and—”

  “—it kind of just…”

  “…happened,” they said, simultaneously.

  Joey shook his head. “You sluts.”

  “We didn’t know,” said Kate.

  Jason nodded agreement. “I felt this golden energy go up my arm. And we switched Gifts. I had all these future visions.”

  “And I had past visions,” said Kate. “Was that—coupling?”

  Valerie smiled, as if to say “Ah, the follies of youth.”

  “Is Kate knocked up now?” said Joey. Kate leaned forward and smacked him on the shoulder.

  “No,” said Valerie. “It’s pleasurable but—it can’t hurt you unless—” She frowned.

  “What?” said Kate.

  “How did you—break the connection?”

  “Kate broke it,” Jason said. “She knocked me down.”

  “Right on his ass,” said Joey, nodding.

  Kate frowned at them. “I didn’t know what it was. I freaked. Sue me.”

  Valerie raised a finger and leaned forward. “You broke the connection—by force?”

  “It was just a shove,” said Jason. “I wasn’t hurt.”

  Valerie turned to Kate. “Would I be right to guess—that after that,” she raised an eyebrow, “—you had no Gift?”

  Kate squeezed Jason’s hand, painfully. Her expression darkened. “Yes. From that night forward, I had no Gift.”

  “Oh, dear,” said Valerie, sitting back.

  “What?” said Joey, confused.

  Jason closed his eyes. “She broke the connection while our Gifts were mingled.”

  Valerie gestured, as if conducting a tennis match. “The energy cycles. Back and forth—during the experience. If Kate broke it—when all the energy—was in you—”

  Kate took her hand from Jason’s. “Then I would lose my Gift.”

  “And I would be doubly powerful,” said Jason, looking at his palm.

  “I think that—explains a lot,” said Valerie.

  “It does,” Jason said. “I barely even had my Gift before then, but after the dance… I had visions in the Van Brunt tomb, off objects, visions when I didn’t want to. I couldn’t shut them off. And after I faced the Horseman, it’s been changing. Growing. More than it should. I have like—a double dose.”

  “How do we undo it?” said Kate, her voice flat and businesslike.

  “Fall in love,” said Valerie.

  “Ouch,” said Joey.

  Kate frowned. “Excuse me?”

  “You two will have to—re-couple. Jason has to give back—what he took—and you have to accept it. Be receptive to each other, couple again. If you do—”

  They all sat in silence for a long moment. Kate turned to look at Jason, considering. She nodded and stood. “Jason, may I talk to you?”

  “Sure.”

  “Alone?” She marched out of the room.

  “Oh, shit,” said Joey. “Someone’s in trouble.”

  Jason stood. “She’s going to kill me.”

  “It was an accident,” said Joey.

  “You did nothing wrong,” said Valerie.

  “It doesn’t feel that way,” said Jason. “It feels like I—violated her or something.”

  He took a deep breath and walked out. He found Kate in the music room, her arms crossed but looking away, staring at an oil painting, a gilt-framed canvas leaning against the wall, depicting a tangle of honeysuckle vines climbing a log fence and a boy and girl playing in a sunlit field.

  “Close the door,” she said, gently.

  Jason obeyed. “I’m so sorry about—”

  “Shh. Just close the door.”

  Jason obeyed. The door clicked shut. She turned to him, took three steps, closing the distance and—

  Kissed him.

  She took his face in her hands and kissed him, gently. He stepped backwards into the wall but didn’t break the kiss. Her fingers played in his hair.

  “I’ve wanted to do that since… Gunsmoke… since the stables,” she said, smiling. “Well?”

  Jason was happily dumbstruck. “I thought you’d be pissed.”

  “So did I. But… Thank heaven we figured it out.”

  “Kate…” he whispered, putting his arms around her, feeling guilty. “I stole your Gift.”

  “It’s okay. I’m just glad it’s in… safe hands. And not gone forever.” She brought his head down and kissed his forehead. “We’ll just have to keep touching until you return it.” She broke away, took his hand and stripped the glove from it, shyly, with a playful grin. She took his wrist and pressed his palm to her back, where it slid beneath her shirt, pressed to the exact spot where it had lain the night of the Spirit Dance. Jason kissed her, as he’d kissed her in the rain that one brave evening. She matched him kiss for kiss, move for move, their passion intensifying.

  He kissed her neck and she swayed backwards, her backside colliding with the keys of Valerie’s grand piano, striking up a little splash of notes—as if she’d goosed it. They laughed.

  Jason kissed her again—another jolt of mad music.

  Their clothes stayed on but they tried like mad to have sex—magical sex—the kind that comes when two souls mingle and share their Gifts with one another. On and on the little splashes of music came—not as well-composed as a Rachmaninoff Concerto—just a fumbling duet played by beginners. Merry little finger exercises. The kind that have to be practiced over and over before you can even consider real music.

  But… no golden energy leapt between them. No sharing of their Gifts occurred. Jason knew why. It was his fault the magic didn’t happen. Even as he kissed the beautiful girl of his dreams, a small voice in the back of his head was saying, She’s
not really into you. She’s only doing this to get her Gift back. Jason began to realize just how hard it would be to recapture that innocent moment on the dance floor when nothing bad had ever happened between them. He knew in his heart that they weren’t truly in love. Not yet. And the magic wouldn’t happen until they were.

  But he kissed her anyway.

  Valerie listened to the music coming from the other room. She covered her face again. “They better not break—my piano.”

  “Ugh,” said Joey. “Close the door.” She did. “No good. I can still hear them. It’s traumatizing. Take my mind off it, please?”

  “Have you ever had—a tarot reading?”

  “No.”

  Valerie fetched the deck from the shelf. “A virgin!”

  “Don’t remind me. Aargh. I can still hear them.”

  They slipped to the floor. Valerie gave Joey the cards to cut. He did more than cut them. He shuffled them like a blackjack dealer, biting his lip and concentrating furiously. A thought came to Valerie—an unpleasant thought. She bit her lip. This was not a good thought. What had happened to Kate would have consequences. Kate had lost her supernatural immune system. Being drained of her Gift would make her especially vulnerable. To all sorts of bad influences. Possession, for one thing. Those kids would need to keep on the lookout. Kate was a tempting target for bad spirits.

  Oh, well, she thought. Better not to worry them any more today.

  She listened to the clinking of keys from the other room. She would never have that again. Never be a couple. How sad.

  “What do we do now?” said Joey, passing the cards back.

  Valerie sighed and turned a card. “This… is your significator.”

  Joey frowned when he saw it. “Great. It would be a queen.”

  CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT

  “Brom’s Gift”

  When the music ended, Jason and Kate were coupled. Not magically—there were no supernatural pyrotechnics or flash of past and future. Not physically, either—they still had their clothes on. But in the way that he kissed her earlobe, confidently, and she slipped her fingers through his belt loop, playfully. In the way they looked at each other, talked to one another, were excruciatingly aware of the few inches of oxygen that kept their skin from touching. They were coupled. They were a couple, as surely as if they’d carved their initials into the skin of a birch tree.