The Hidden

by Jessica Verday

  A small wooden bridge came into view, but I came to a stop before crossing it.

  “What’s wrong?” Caspian asked.

  “Do you think it’s too early? What if they’re sleeping?”

  “Do they sleep?”

  “I … don’t know.”

  But I started walking again. I had the strongest urge to see Nikolas, to ask him if he knew what was going on with Vincent or the Revenants, and to try to make some sense out of things.

  We crossed the bridge, and when the familiar stone walls and thatched roof of their storybook cottage came into view, I wanted to break into a run. It was like coming home after a long trip.

  Wisteria grew in a massive vine of trailing purple flowers and green leaves over the stone chimney on the left of the wooden front door, and it looked like Katy had been busy filling the front yard with new plants.

  “I don’t think you’re going to have to worry about whether or not Nikolas is sleeping,” Caspian said, and I turned back to face him.

  “Why? How do you know?”

  He pointed over my shoulder. “Because there he is.”

  I turned around. Nikolas was coming from the back of the house. He lifted his hand in a wave, and I returned the gesture, closing the gap between us.

  “Nikolas! It’s so good to see you!” I gave him a hug, thrilled that he was still here and still safe. I didn’t know what was going on with Vincent, but just knowing that Nikolas was okay made me feel so much better.

  His weathered face broke into a smile as he beamed down at me. “How are you feeling? Any ill effects from the incident with Vincent?”

  “Oh, no, everything’s fine. I had to wear a sling on my arm for a while, but now I’m as good as new.”

  “I am glad to hear it,” Nikolas said. Then he nodded at Caspian. “I am also glad to see that things have improved for you since our last visit.”

  “Me too,” Caspian said. “Hopefully we won’t be seeing our nasty friend again.”

  Nikolas’s face darkened. “I am sorry I could not be there, Abbey. It pains me that I am bound to this place.”

  “Your house?” I said absentmindedly. “I wouldn’t mind being bound here.”

  “I am talking about the cemetery,” he replied. “Katy and I cannot leave it.”

  I shifted my weight from foot to foot. “It’s fine. Everything was, um, handled.” I glanced down. Now that I was here, I didn’t know what I really wanted to say. What was I looking for?

  Caspian must have realized what I was feeling, because he said, “Is Katy inside?”

  “She is,” Nikolas replied.

  “Then, I think I’m going to say hello,” he said.

  I shot him a grateful smile. “Thanks,” I whispered.

  He winked at me and then whispered back, “Just don’t leave me in there too long, okay?”

  I nodded, and he went inside the house.

  Scuffing my toe in the grass, I tried to sort out my thoughts. “So … what are you doing up so late?” I asked Nikolas. “Or early. I guess you could be up early?”

  He chuckled. “A little of both. What about you? This is an early time for a visit.”

  “Couldn’t sleep. I’ve been having bad dreams so I thought maybe a walk here would help.” I didn’t want to talk about the dreams, though, so I said, “What’s it like for you and Katy to sleep? Do you even sleep? Caspian said that it’s a strange, almost dark place for him. Is it the same for you?”

  He nodded. “We rest, but our bodies don’t need sleep the same way they did when we were alive.”

  “Does time move fast for you guys too? How different is it for you and Katy compared to Caspian? What’s a day for me can be a week, or even a month, for him if he falls into the dark place.”

  “It has been so long since I was a part of the living world that I have simply forgotten what normal time is,” he said. “But yes, whole lifetimes can pass by in the blink of an eye.”

  “I wish school would pass by in the blink of an eye,” I muttered.

  Nikolas laughed. “Are you not happy at school?”

  “No teenager is happy at school.” I sighed heavily. “It’s a painful experience.”

  He smiled.

  “Speaking of …” I hesitated, then blurted out, “Does it hurt? When you die … what does it feel like?”

  He didn’t say anything, and I thought that this was it. I’d found the one thing that he would not answer. But then he surprised me.

  “Dying was the easy part,” he said evenly. “One moment I was there with my horse, preparing for battle, and the next, I was sitting on the ground. My horse was gone and so was everything else around me. Much time must have passed.”

  “It was that way for Caspian, too,” I murmured.

  “I did not understand what had happened to me at first,” he said. “But eventually I learned. I thought I was trapped in purgatory as a specter, cursed to roam the land as punishment for my wicked deeds in life.”

  “So the dying part didn’t actually hurt?”

  “For me, no. It did not.”

  I let out a sigh of relief. “That’s good to know. What about the Revenants? When they helped you and Katy to be completed, did it hurt?”

  Now he looked uncomfortable.

  “Abbey …” He started and then stopped, pausing long enough to look back over my shoulder, into the woods. “I know that you are looking for answers, but I cannot tell you everything.”

  “Why not?” I asked. “You’ve been in my position before. You know what’s going to happen.”

  “All I can say is that I do not know everything. It is different for each of us. And particularly now …”

  “Now what?”

  “Now that Vincent has interrupted the process, I am uncertain what will be done.”

  His words took a minute to register. “Uncertain … Wait, do you mean that there’s a chance I won’t get to be with Caspian?” Panic filled me at the thought, and I reached out a desperate hand. “That’s not true, right?” I pleaded. “Tell me it’s not true!”

  “I cannot say,” he replied. “It is not my place to make that decision.”

  “But I need to know! I need to—”

  The sound of a door opening interrupted us, and Caspian came out of the house. “I think it’s time to go,” he said. “Your parents might freak out if they wake up and find you’re not home.”

  “Good point,” I said, then turned back to Nikolas. “I’m sorry if it sounded like I was getting upset with you. I’m just frustrated by … uncertainty.”

  “It is understandable,” he said, patting my arm. “Come back to visit us again soon. We are always delighted to have your company.”

  Realizing that I wasn’t going to be getting any more answers to my questions, I nodded. “I will. Bye, Nikolas.”

  I turned toward the woods, and Caspian followed behind me.

  Once we were far enough away from the cottage, he asked, “How did it go?”

  How did it go? I don’t know. “Nikolas didn’t have any answers for me,” I said eventually.

  “Answers about what?”

  “Everything. Nothing. He wouldn’t say. How did things go for you?” I asked.

  “Fantastic. Katy and I talked about knitting patterns. I now know the difference between a purl stitch and a cross-stitch.”

  The expression on his face was so comical that I was glad to have something else to talk about on the way home. Now I was even more confused than when I’d first gotten here.

  Chapter Eight

  CRIMSON

  Ichabod became the object of whimsical persecution to Bones and his gang of rough riders.

  —“The Legend of Sleepy Hollow”

  There weren’t any more false alarms or school-wide lockdowns when I went back to school on Monday, and I found Ben waiting for me by my locker after second period.

  “Hey, Abbey,” he said, fidgeting with the science book he was holding. “Can I walk you to your next class?” />
  “Yeah, sure. I’m going to civics.”

  He moved out of the way, and I opened up my locker door. “So,” I said, exchanging my math book for a civics book, “have you been bombarded with girls asking you to the Hollow Ball yet? Or is it still too early for that?”

  “It’s not too early. I’ve been turning them down by the handful.” I raised an eyebrow at him.

  “What?” he said. “It’s true. I have to thin the herd a little bit.”

  “Thin the herd?” My eyebrow shot up even more. “Real nice.” I turned in the direction that I needed to go, and he moved to my side. “You know who you should take?” I suggested sweetly. “Aubra.”

  He groaned. “You can’t be serious.”

  “You totally deserve it with a comment like that. ‘Thin the herd.’ What are we, sheep? Elephants?”

  His face turned serious, and he put up both hands. “I take it back, I take it back! There aren’t enough Funyuns in the world to make me interested in someone that self-absorbed.”

  “She’s not that bad, you know,” I said. “She’s not that great, either, but she’s not that bad.”

  Ben shuddered. “Give me a thinker any day of the week. I like ’em brainy.”

  “Didn’t think I’d hear that one from you.” I rolled my eyes at him.

  “What can I say? I’m an equal opportunity kind of guy.”

  A tall girl passed us, and I watched in astonishment as she tossed her hair and then smiled at Ben. “Man, you really do have to fight them off!” I said.

  His face turned red, and he looked embarrassed. It was kind of funny to see him acting all shy, but we were almost to class, and I still didn’t know why he’d wanted to walk with me. Spotting a quiet corner by the water fountains, I steered him in that direction. “So, what did you want to talk about? Because I know it’s not your girl problems.”

  He looked down at his feet. “I wanted to ask you something. But I don’t know how to ask it.”

  “This isn’t going to be another one of those awkward moments when you tell me how much you want me and I have to politely decline, is it?” I teased.

  “No, no.” Then he looked up. “Unless you want it to be.”

  “I’ll pencil you in for next Thursday. You can declare your undying and eternal love for me then. Does that work for you?’

  “Absolutely.”

  He shuffled his feet again, and I felt my patience wearing thin. I wanted to grab him by the arm and just tell him to spit it out already. “Seriously. What’s up, Ben? What is it? You’re making me nervous here.”

  He took a deep breath, like he was gathering up his courage, then said, “I’ve been dreaming about Kristen.”

  “You … have?” I hadn’t been dreaming about her at all. Why was he?

  “Yeah. And what’s strange about it is—you know how when you dream, there’s always some part that’s off? Like you can be going through your day at school, but everyone will have six eyeballs, or blue noses, or you’ll be in your underwear?”

  I nodded.

  “It’s not like that,” he said. “These dreams are almost … real. Classes, and study halls, and stuff like that. We sit and talk about all kinds of things. For hours. It happens almost every night. Do you ever dream about her?”

  I was almost tempted to say no. Some part of me didn’t want him to know that my dreams about my best friend were upsetting. Instead I found myself saying, “I used to. But I never got to just spend time with her in my dreams. Something was always wrong, or weird.”

  “So you think … Do you think maybe she’s watching out for me? Or haunting me?” He laughed self-consciously and tugged on a piece of his curly brown hair. “I don’t even know if I believe in ghosts.”

  “I do,” I said automatically.

  “You do?”

  I hadn’t meant for that to slip out. “Yeah. I, um, I do.”

  Ben looked hopeful. “So do you think she is hanging around me?” He glanced around us, then lowered his voice. “It’s not like I want people to know that I think I’m being haunted by a ghost, but …” A wistful smile appeared. “But I think it would be kind of cool if it did happen. With her.”

  Yeah, it’s not so bad being haunted. Trust me on that one. “We were both connected to her. Me as her best friend, and you …” I smiled gently at him. “You as someone who wanted to be something more. There’s a bond there. I don’t think death can take that away.”

  “But it’s not like she knew how I felt.”

  “I think you’d be surprised how much they know.”

  “They?” He looked skeptical.

  “Ghosts. Spirits. The dearly departed.” I waved my hand around. “You know.”

  He nodded in a vague sort of way that made me uncomfortable. Dangerous territory, Abbey. Watch what you say.

  I put my fingers on his arm and made my tone very comforting and accepting. “What I mean is that you can believe whatever you want to believe. And I don’t think there’s anything wrong with believing that somehow Kristen knew how you felt about her.”

  His face cleared. “You’re right. And I like the idea that she’s happy. Wherever she is.”

  “Me too.”

  The bell rang, and I pulled away. “I have to go. I don’t want to get a late slip.”

  “Thanks for talking to me about this, Abbey,” he said. “But, uh, can we just keep it between us?”

  I grinned at him, then turned to go to class. “Keep what between us?”

  I skipped out of lunch early, and headed to my locker to beat the crowd. Cyn was at Kristen’s locker—No, Cyn’s locker now. I’ll have to get used to that—and she was poking at something. Her freckled face turned to me as I approached.

  “If you had to pick between a dead bug or a dead leaf, which would you choose?”

  “Uhhhh, why am I choosing one of those things?” I asked.

  “Just choose.”

  I reached out for my locker door and spun the combination. “I guess it depends on what type of bug. Is it like a butterfly, or a—”

  “Ehhhhh.” She made the sound of a buzzer. “Time’s up. So you’re going with bug?”

  “I don’t—”

  She interrupted me again. “Your answer reveals a lot about you. I would have chosen leaf, but you chose bug. Why is that?”

  “Technically, I didn’t have time to choose anything. I just asked a question.”

  She put a hand into her locker and pulled out a tiny terracotta pot. It was literally one of the smallest pots I’d ever seen. A lone plant stem bore three shriveled leaves, with the forth looking like it was barely hanging on.

  “I like the almost dead ones,” she said. “You think they’re gone, but they’re not.” Her lips moved, and she whispered something that sounded like “Ahtoo rah roorah ru shy el” to the plant.

  “What does that mean?” I asked.

  “It’s an ancient Gaelic blessing. A bespoke to the goddess of all living things. Plants like it.” She moved to put the pot back, and I peeked over her shoulder. There were at least twelve other dead plants in there.

  “Holy crap,” I said. “That’s a lot of plants.”

  I didn’t mean for the words to slip out, but they sort of just did.

  “Don’t worry,” she said conspiratorially. “I don’t keep them all. I bury the ones that really don’t make it. Most of them just need a little coaxing, though.”

  I didn’t even know how to respond to that, so I just made some vague noise of agreement. Who is this girl, and exactly how long am I going to have to have a locker next to her?

  With a bemused shake of my head, I opened my locker door …

  … and froze when I saw what was there.

  Cyn must have seen the expression on my face, because she leaned in. “What? What is it?” Her hand snaked out to reach for what was sitting there, before I could find my voice.

  “Don’t touch that!”

  But I was too late. She had already picked up the blood-red bot
tle.

  “It’s perfume.” She held it out to me, and I cringed. I didn’t want to touch it. “Is something wrong with it?”

  “It’s not mine,” I said. Was it a gift from Vincent?

  She turned it over to read the name. “‘Crimson.’ I’ve never heard of that brand before.” Opening the lid, she stuck it under her nose. “It smells heavy. And coppery. Like something …”

  Bits of memory swam before my eyes.

  Broken glass. Jagged edges. Sharp, cloying smells. And blood.

  “It’s blood,” Cyn said swiftly. “That’s what the smell reminds me of. Tangy and coppery at the same time. What the hell? A perfume that smells like blood? Who would want to wear that?”

  Without even realizing what I was doing, I tore it out of her hands and practically ran to the closest garbage can. My fingers burned where I touched the bottle, and I flung the repulsive object into the mouth of the canister.

  The overhead bell rang, signaling the end of lunch, and the halls flooded with people. They jostled my shoulders and crammed into my space. The hallways were tight with rushing bodies as everyone hurried to get to where they needed to be.

  Suddenly a hand touched mine. Once, lightly, then grabbed hold. I looked down at the fingers wrapped around mine. They stroked my palm, and fingernails snagged painfully before letting go.

  I looked up.

  White-blond hair was all I could see, and Vincent smiled at me. “Hey, sweetheart.”

  Then he melted into the crowd. Like he’d never been there at all.

  My knees locked. My chest tightened, and I wondered if I was going to faint in the middle of the hall. “It’s not real,” I chanted, trying not to pitch over. “It’s not real. He’s not here. You’re just imagining it.”

  The halls cleared, and I was left standing there, still feeling his fingers on mine. Remembering the other time he’d pressed on my arm and had left his mark. A red welt driven deeply into my flesh …

  Kristen came over, and I glanced at her. She was staring at me.

  “Is everything okay? Why are you freaking out over perfume?”