Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 100859 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100859 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
We ride in the sun along rambling fences and pink hollyhocks that tower over us, reaching for the clear blue sky beside the sunflowers, their yellow heads nodding as if paying their respects. Then we go across the old wooden bridge over Hollow Creek, hoofbeats echoing on the wood, a comforting sound. The creek that flows underneath is a soft murmur of water, waiting patiently for the autumn rains to replenish it. We then emerge to where the road forks, with one road skirting off toward the river and settlements further north, while the other becomes a narrow trail that goes through the woods and up a slight hill toward Pocantico Lake, where the school resides.
The minute we enter the woods, a hush comes over us. Everyone’s parents always told them never to go beyond Hollow Creek Bridge, that the woods always held dangers and wild animals, that you could easily get lost and never come out. I always thought it silly since my mother would ride here in the dark alone every month for a meeting with her sisters, but even so, when I used to play with Brom, we never ventured too far.
“So how come you’re not living at the school like everyone else?” Mathias asks me. His voice trembles slightly, and I can tell he’s getting more spooked out the further we go into the forest, passing by the stagnant water of Wiley’s Swamp.
“My mother said it made more sense to stay at home since I live in town,” I say. I know the school represents an escape from Sleepy Hollow in its own way, but it didn’t feel right leaving my mother alone. Aside from the promise I made to my father, she hasn’t been the same since his death, her health steadily falling ever since.
We ride for another twenty minutes, the trail getting so narrow in parts that the branches are reaching for us and if there hadn’t been fresh wheel ruts in the ground, I’d have a hard time believing that anyone could have come through here on a carriage, let alone anytime lately.
Finally, the morning light seems to reach through the gaps in the canopy, and I see the slick surface of the lake through the trees, and the trail opens up to reveal the school in all its dark glory. In front of us are large iron gates flanked by a high stone wall covered with ivy in places. A brass placard reads Sleepy Hollow Institute: Where Learning Goes Beyond.
Looking past the gates, I can make out the shapes of the buildings, most old and castle-like, though there are two more modern and squat. The modern ones are made of brick, but the rest are this dark stone that looks perpetually wet, flanked by gargoyles. All of them are surrounded by a thick fog that seems to hang over the entire complex.
As we get to the gate, it becomes apparent how far back the school goes, disappearing into the woods. There are five large buildings sprawled around a central courtyard that looks like it could have been taken straight out of a fairy tale, with its cobblestone paths lined with statues and lanterns that cast light onto small patches of groomed grass and gardens of orange dahlias.
But despite how impressive the school looks, a strange feeling of fear kicks up inside me like a wild horse, a tightness in my chest. Perhaps this is because, even in broad daylight, all the windows are shuttered tightly. As if it’s either trying to keep something out.
Or something else in.
Chapter 3
Kat
“This is where I leave you,” Mathias squeaks fearfully, pulling his roan to a stop.
I stare at the gates to the school for a moment, expecting them to open toward me as if operated by phantoms, but they remain closed. And from the looks of the snake and key emblem on the center, they’re locked shut.
I glance over my shoulder at Mathias. His face has paled, and his horse is snorting impatiently, either picking up on his fright or the energy of the school. “You know you don’t have to escort me back later,” I tell him. “I won’t tell. I’ll be fine.”
He swallows, looking torn as he mulls that over, chewing on his bottom lip. Then he shakes his head. “You can count on me, Ms. Van Tassel. I’ll be back here at four.” His horse raises its head and paws at the damp earth. “I should go now,” he adds quietly.
He turns the horse around, and they take off at a gallop, disappearing into the woods in a ruddy blur.
I look back to the school. I don’t blame Mathias for leaving. I doubt they would let him past the gates anyway—seems like I’m not even able to go through. I bring Snowdrop closer to investigate, and she, too, begins to protest. She’s always been a good mare when it comes to magic, but my magic is small compared to what is taught behind these stone walls.