fic_variations | Journey Home (May 2008 challenge, Part 5) (Reply)

Title: Journey Home (Part 5)
Author: occhi_bella
Rating: T
fic_variations Prompt/Claim: Love/Hate, Time
Word Count: 1550
Warnings: Spoilers
Note: Based on an alternate universe in which Ichabod left the book that Katrina gave him behind.
Disclaimer: Sleepy Hollow and its characters do not belong to me. I make no money from this.

Link to first part.

“What have I done?”

Ichabod’s eyes fluttered open as he came to, realizing that it was he who had spoken these words. For a moment he didn’t know where he was, but upon raising his head he discovered that he was still in the parlor of the Van Tassel house, slumped in the plush armchair.

Everything came back to him in a rush of memory. He recalled coming here after seeing the light in the window, the appearance of Lady Van Tassel and the thoughts he had before he fainted. Shame and remorse seized him; he had jumped to terrible conclusions about Katrina and she had not been guilty after all. Worse, his bumbling had left her and the child at the mercy of a dangerous murderess.

Dear God, what have I done?

His right index finger still burned slightly and he remembered the chalk circle and the oil on the floor in the middle of it, which he’d touched with that fingertip. It was the skin that had been in contact with the oil that still felt somewhat inflamed. He could not imagine what kind of oil it was, who would be using it or why. Perhaps it was Lady Van Tassel casting another evil spell.

He sat up straight and glanced around him. The room was intact, the lantern he brought with him remained where it was on the end table beside him and the candles in the room were still lit. Lady Van Tassel was nowhere in sight.

Had he been dreaming? Where had she gone?

“I’m still here, Constable Crane.”

Ichabod started at the sound of her voice. She suddenly emerged from a corner of the room as if from out of nowhere. She’d removed the white veil from her head and her long blonde hair, normally pulled up and back into a neat chignon, cascaded down thick and loose about her shoulders. Hers was a cold, dangerous beauty, her visage serene and sinister all at once. He knew some of what she was capable of, but he had no doubt that she had myriad abilities that he was not yet aware of.

“It’s good to see you awake at last. I thought you might remain unconscious until long after dawn.” She smirked slyly as she spoke. “I took the liberty of moving you from the floor into the chair. You lying prone on the floor was a most unbecoming sight.”

He raised his chin, attempting to look as brave as possible.

“Where is Katrina? And Young Masbath?” he demanded.

“I have no idea.”

She didn’t hesitate before answering, nor did she need to think about her reply first. Judging from her outward appearance she was telling the truth, but this woman was wily and cunning. Deception was a way of life for her.

“I don’t believe you,” he answered finally.

“Why would I lie about such a thing? If you must know the truth, I’ve been trying to find them again too. When I saw the light in the window I thought they were here. Imagine my pleasant surprise upon discovering you instead.”

With a malevolent grin she approached and took a seat on the couch beside the armchair, leaning toward him and staring directly into his eyes.

“After you left Sleepy Hollow I returned here to this house. Katrina was in the sitting room downstairs. I can be very stealthy when I want to be. Before she knew I was there I was close enough to hit her from behind and knock her out. I took her to the windmill. But before I could take a lock of her hair and summon the Hessian to come for her that pesky boy appeared, taking it upon himself to protect her. The little pest. I still have a bump on my head where he hit me with that shovel. When I woke up the two of them were nowhere to be found.”

He gaped at her. “Take a lock of her hair?” he echoed.

“For the spell,” she explained. “A lock of hair, a nail clipping, even a piece of clothing that she wore was needed. So the Hessian would know to come specifically for her. She still manages to elude me somehow and even he is unable to find her, a phenomenon that I still cannot explain, although I have my suspicions. A lock of her hair would have made the spell stronger; perhaps it fails because that element was missing. But as long as she lives she stands in my way. She’ll return now that you’ve come back to town, and I’ll be waiting for her.”

“What?”

“Surely it isn’t lost on you, Constable, that my darling stepdaughter returns your feelings. And it’s quite understandable.” As she said this she reached over and ran a long slender finger along the outline of his jaw lightly, seductively. He shivered involuntarily. “You are beautiful.”

Ichabod stared at her in a daze.

“You saw the same light in the window. They were here already. Katrina was, at least. She disappeared before you and I both arrived,” she continued, her hand thankfully retreating from his face. She stood up and began to pace back and forth in front of him. “I have no doubt that she will return. As will the boy, since I expect that they are together now. He seems to be very loyal to you. I only have to wait.”

The chances of Lady Van Tassel listening to reason were slim to non-existent, but he had to try.

“Are you truly so greedy that you think nothing of murdering innocent people? You were married to Baltus Van Tassel and as his wife what was his was yours. Was that not enough for you?”

“Katrina was still to be the sole heiress after his death. And it is she who now has everything. Besides, this is about more than the money, Constable. My family was wronged by everyone in Sleepy Hollow. By the Van Garretts and by the rest of the townspeople, for they all served him.”

“Then you want revenge,” he murmured. “And that’s why you took the Hessian’s skull. What did the people of this town do to you?”

“Why would it concern you?”

“If you are intending to harm me, and I have no doubt that you are, I believe that I have a right to know why,” he argued, rising to his feet to face her.

“Perhaps you’re right,” she sighed. “After all, why should I deny you the pleasure? Well then. If you must know.”

She continued to pace as she spoke.

“My father worked for the Van Garretts many years ago, when I was a child. We lived in a cottage on his land. The old cottage that now stands in ruins. You were there.”

It must have been the cottage where Katrina had lived. Her last words struck him a moment later. She’d been watching his every move during his first trip here.

“When my father died Van Garrett evicted us. We had very little money and nowhere to go. No one in this town would help us because my mother was accused of practicing witchcraft.”

“I don’t believe it,” he exclaimed breathlessly.

She halted and whirled around, fixing a sharp gaze upon him. “You believe that I’m lying?”

“It seems to me that every woman in this town practices witchcraft,” he continued passionately. “I can’t believe that your mother is the only one…why on earth would the townspeople single her out for that?”

“Van Garrett had all of the influence in this town. It was he who stirred them up into a frenzy and turned everyone against us.”

“But…why? Why would he do that?”

“My sister and I were very young. Although I expect that my mother knew his reasons, she never spoke of them to us. Looking back on those days I can venture a guess. After all, my mother was quite beautiful and desirable to the men of this town. But that is of no importance now. Van Garrett gave our cottage and the land around it to his cousin, Baltus Van Tassel, who moved in with his wife and girl baby. Meanwhile we had to flee into the Western Woods. My mother, my sister and I lived in a cave there, completely on our own and fending for ourselves.”

“The cave…where that old woman lives?”

“That old woman is my sister. She’s younger than she looks. But she lost her mind years ago and never cared about her appearance anyway.”

“How did you come to marry Baltus Van Tassel?”

“I came to this house to care for Elizabeth Van Tassel when she became ill.”

“You were the nurse.”

“Yes. Under my care her illness slowly became worse. There was nothing anyone could do.” She spoke these last words with mock sorrow. “It wasn’t long before Baltus turned to me for comfort.”

Ichabod’s jaw dropped. “You murdered Katrina’s mother,” he uttered breathlessly, incredulously.

“An herb that must be used carefully. It aids with sleep in small doses. A slightly larger dose brings hallucinations and delirium. In even larger doses it’s poisonous. The difficult part was increasing the dosage slowly so that she gradually deteriorated. If I’d adjusted it too drastically her death might have been seen as suspicious. No, it had to appear to be the outcome of the natural progression of her illness. It took time and patience. Everyone was convinced that her hallucinations and delirium were caused by her brain fever. When she finally succumbed, it was no surprise to anyone.”

“Oh, dear God,” he whispered. “Katrina.”

Did she have any idea now that her stepmother had murdered her beloved mother?

“You already figured out the rest. Peter Van Garrett fathered the widow’s child and accordingly changed his will. All of the town elders knew of it, except for Baltus of course. But they had no qualms about keeping secrets from Baltus. They were all envious and resentful of him, though they pretended to be his friend. Typical.”

“And…you killed them all through the Horseman to keep them silent.”

“Eventually it became necessary. After the servant Masbath’s funeral the drunken magistrate let it slip to you that there were five victims in four graves. He had to be done away with immediately.”

Ichabod shook his head in wonder. Lady Van Tassel and everyone else had already left the graveside by the time the magistrate approached him. How did she know what Magistrate Philipse had said to him? He recalled that Reverend Steenwyck was standing several feet away, watching them. Had he told her?

She stopped pacing and turned to face him, peering directly and pointedly into his eyes.

“Yes, Constable Crane. All of them were in my power in some manner and I knew all that occurred. The Reverend lusted after me, as you witnessed after so slyly following me to the woods. I knew of the doctor’s…indiscretions…with the serving girl Sara. By promising to keep his secret I was assured that he would keep mine. Fear kept the notary silent. And the magistrate…that is until you came along. You have that kind of face, I guess; he couldn’t help but confide in you.”

Indeed Lady Van Tassel seemed to be able to read his mind, he thought with a shudder. Under any circumstances that would be unsettling; but the fact that this woman who was evil to the core could know his thoughts completely unnerved him. He turned away from her piercing gaze, suddenly remembering the chalk circle drawn on the floor. The skin on his finger tingled as he thought of the remnants of the strange oil inside of it that he’d touched.

“I saw you leave the morning after Baltus died. You looked so forlorn and devastated, Constable Crane. What prompted you to return?”

“Someone here in this town wrote to me.” He thought for a moment and turned back to her, eyeing her suspiciously. “Perhaps you are the one who sent me the letter.”

He received no response.

“Perhaps it is part of your game,” he continued.

She began to laugh malevolently and moved toward him again, stopping mere inches away. “I’m afraid you’re mistaken. Though I would so enjoy playing games with you, Constable.”

Flinching involuntarily, he lowered himself down into the plush armchair again, desperately needing to sit down and to put some space between himself and this woman.

“You said that…Katrina was here…”

“Surely an observant man of science such as you noticed the evidence that she left.” She walked toward the other side of the room and pointed to the lightly drawn circle on the floor.

“Didn’t you…?”

“That is Katrina’s work, not mine.”

“Katrina?” he repeated breathlessly.

Were they both practicing black magic then?

“You said that you don’t know where she is, and that even the Horseman cannot find her.”

“That’s right, Constable. But eventually she will have to reckon with me. She may draw whatever circles she likes on the floor. Her magic is no match for mine.”

“But she has succeeded in eluding you, and the instrument of your vengeance,” Ichabod reminded her softly.

Lady Van Tassel didn’t answer. She turned away and resumed her pacing, and Ichabod stood up once more. Slowly he took a step toward the door. He needed to get away from her, to think, to get some air so he could clear his head. And he needed to ponder his course of action. Perhaps if he could find Katrina and Young Masbeth before she did…

“Going so soon?” she taunted, rounding on him again.

“Neither my hands nor my feet are bound. There is nothing to stop me from walking out that door whenever I please.”

But as a precaution he slid his hand into his pocket instinctively. His fingers closed around the pistol while he pondered whether it might not be a good idea to just shoot her and be done with everything.

“Unless you plan on summoning the Hessian to come for me this instant I shall take my leave.”

He was still listening for the sound of thunder, wondering if minutes from now the Horseman would break in the door with his ax and take his life. At the same time a part of him knew somehow that she wasn’t prepared to kill him just yet.

“Even in the event of my death, the spell cannot be broken while the Horseman’s skull remains out of his reach. My magic will only become more powerful. You cannot stop me.”

“Perhaps not.” He swallowed nervously. “I know nothing about the workings of magic nor do I have any idea where you hid the Hessian’s skull. If I did know then I should return it to him and these assassinations would be certain to end. For now, I have heard your testimony. I am aware of your intentions and your reasoning.”

She studied him carefully, a smirk still lingering around her lips. “And what will you do then? Try to arrest me?”

He had no answer for her. Without a word he sidled to the door and opened it. She called after him as he stepped into the hallway.

“Constable.” He stopped but did not turn around to face her. “I assure you that if you try to tell the townspeople I’m alive they won’t believe you. And you won’t be able to prove it to them.”

*******

Note: Story continued at my journal here.