The Hidden

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