"What are you doing back here Crane?" Abby looked around the edge of the door and peered into the gloom of the archives. Ichabod was bent over the workbench, his gaze intent on the manuscript he had uncovered from the mausoleum in the park. It seemed to bewitched him from the moment they had found it; a concept with which Abby was not entirely comfortable considering what they had already been through in their search for a weapon against Pandora and the Hidden One. If this book had actually enchanted him somehow then they were going to have a whole new problem on their, or rather her, hands. Just as she was about to step into the room and shout again, Crane looked up at her with slightly wild eyes.
"Lieutenant. Ah, you're later than I expected."
"Later? It's three in the morning Crane."
"What?" Crane stood up straight, his hands slack against the book on the bench in front of him. "It can't possibly be that late; I have been here barely an hour. You said that you would be here after supper."
"Danny needed me and I went to help out with a scene exam. I texted you. I told you to go home and make dinner, and that I would be home late. I texted you four times." Crane looked confused and reached into his pocket with his left hand. When it came out empty he hunted through his other pocket. That came up empty too and he looked up, lost. His hands hunted through the piles of papers and scrolls, lifting books and artefacts left right and centre. A single book did not move; it remained closed as it had been found front and centre.
"Ah, yes. I found it." Crane held the phone aloft with a triumphant smile. Abbie just shook her head and walked into the archive room.
"Oh yes, I can see the messages now. The texts. Yes." Abbie watched her fellow witness fiddle with the interface on his phone and then his face fell.
"I'm sorry; I did not see these. I do apologise. I did not mean to worry you."
"It's okay Crane; have you found anything about that book?"
"I cannot even open this book Miss Mills; the script on the back is illegible pre-Egyptian pictographs and the front is blank. There is nothing remarkable about this book except for the fact that I cannot open it or read it."
"Maybe That's what's so special about it. Maybe I should try and open it?" Crane threw his hands in the air and gestured to the book.
"Have at it." As Abbie bent down to look at the book Crane whirled away in frustration, coat swirling around him. Abbie watched him moving for a moment , marvelling at how gracefully he moved. Even though he was furious, sleep deprived, still confused from their last three demon takedowns in two days, he moved like a ballroom dancer on a stage.
She shook herself and looked down at the book. She scanned the picture-writing on the back and then gave up. She didn't like the look of it and knew there wasn't going to be anything there she could understand given that Crane couldn't fathom anything. She lifted the book and tried to leverage the pages open. They might have looked old and worn, with tea staining across the edges, but they didn't move, twitch or even rustle. The texture felt totally normal to her. She traced the spine and fingered the tasselled ends of the binding. There wasn't anything odd about that either. Why couldn't the book be opened? There was nothing conceivably wrong with it. So why couldn't it be opened?
"Nothing seems to work. It resists fire as well." Crane's voice was strained, like he hated admitting the facts. Abbie raised her eyebrow.
"You tried to set in on fire." It wasn't a question.
"I was weary and beyond frustrated." He sounded apologetic but otherwise he sounded more exhausted than anything else. He clearly needed a break.
"Come on Crane; let's leave it for now and get some sleep. I know I can count on one hand how many hours of sleep I have had in the last three days. You need to come home."
"I am not abandoning this quest; a mere book cannot best me." Abbie knew that he was mad when he called it a 'mere book'. No book was simply 'mere' to him, especially one that thwarted him for hours on end.
"Fine, bring the book home, but you need sleep. Everything gains clarity through sleep, right?"
"Those words sound wiser than those which you usually speak, Lieutenant."
"Are you saying I'm not wise Captain Crane?" Abbie raised an eyebrow and gave him a cocky smile. Crane's eyes glazed over slightly, a strange look passing through them before they focussed on Abbie's and he spoke.
"I would never saying anything of the sort Miss Mills. You are a very wise, beautiful and intelligent young woman. You must be right. We should return home."
"And we will take this book too. Here." She held it out and Crane took it, turning it around and looking at the blank cover. He looked mournful. Abbie felt bad that Crane couldn't find the answer, but she couldn't help him. She felt bad that she couldn't help him.
"Thank you Miss Mills." Crane took it and gently held it under one arm, extending the other to take her arm. She slipped her arm through his and patted his shoulder.
"Home now Crane."
"Yes Miss Mills." They locked up and headed out to the car. The drive back to the house was uneventful and Crane fell asleep in the passenger seat, cradling that book in both hands, almost caressing the cover. Abbie looked at him every time they stopped at the lights; he seemed to be sleeping calmly. She stopped at the house and turned off the engine, sitting back in the dark and just listening to her partner breathe for a few minutes. She shook herself, her body reminding her that he wasn't the only tired one. She opened the door and the internal light came on, rousing Crane from his slumber and making him cough loudly. He sat up and one hand came up to touch his cheek, wiping drool from his beard and blinking rapidly. He didn't say anything; Abbie got out and walked around to his side, opening the door and helping him out. Silently the two made their way into the house and Abbie led her companion to his bedroom. He was almost sleep walking when she laid him down onto his bed. He muttered confusedly as Abbie tried to take his boots off so she left them on, pulling the covers over him and tucking them in under his chin.
"Sleep tight Ichabod. Sleep tight."
Abbie went back her own bed, stripping and settling herself under her own covers. The image of Crane cuddling that book like a strange literary teddy bear made her smile and exhaustion dragged her under so quickly that the smile didn't have time to leave her face.
Crane woke up and tried to roll over; his boots caught in his sheets and his legs twisted hard under the covers. What was going on? The sun was bright through the uncovered window and he blinked confusedly. A day this bright could only be well in its advanced stages; it would have to be after lunch time. Ichabod kicked his sheets until they were free of his feet . Something hard pressed against his chest and he lifted it off; it was that book from the mausoleum. It had left a hard white line engraved in his skin through his shirt. He groaned and rubbed his face. Even his beard was messy, and it was never messy. Ichabod got to his feet and stared down at the ground. He was still wearing his boots. It hadn't really registered before, but for some reason he had gone to bed without taking off his boots. Or his socks. Or anything. He was fully dress. Ichabod was confounded. There was a knock on the door and automatically he raised one hand to his chest to make sure his shirt was tied. Abbie poked her head around the edge of the door and smiled at him.
"You're up. I didn't think you were ever going to wake up."
"What time is it Lieutenant? I feel like I have slept for an age; and I know the feeling well."
"It's just after lunch. I've made turkey sandwiches, do you want one?"
"I am famished; turkey sounds fantastic Miss Mills. Why did I go to bed in my boots? I fear I may have made the sheet soiled." Crane looked down at his boots and shifted his toes, his expression ashamed.
"It's okay Crane, I couldn't get your boots off last night so I put you to bed with them still on." This did not seem to lessen his embarrassment but Abbie stepped out of the way and gestured for him to precede her out of the bedroom and into the hall. He did as he was bid and Abbie followed him into the kitchen; she handed him a plate with a sandwich on it an then grabbed her own and sat down at the table.
"You're still carrying that book?"
Crane looked down at the mysterious book in his hands and put it behind him, straightening his shoulders and putting his chin up stoically.
"I am not proud to admit that the book has bested me thus far, I will determine its secrets."
Abbie rolled her eyes and focussed on her sandwich. He was not going to give up, and she didn't blame him but he needed to relax. He'd gone to sleep hugging the book, slept holding it and then woken up holding it to his chest. He hadn't even put it on the nightstand after getting up. She was beginning to feel a little jealous of that damned book; he refused to put it down and he wouldn't meet her eyes. Slowly he began to eat, picking at the edge of the bread and pulling small pieces of cheese from the construction and nibbling on them. Abbie turned her attention back to her own food and discovered her appetite had suddenly grown to epic proportions.
A knock on the door startled Ichabod like a deer in the headlights of an oncoming truck and he retracted his hands from his plate like lightning. He did not wait for Abbie to respond, instead standing up and hurrying to the front door, pulling it open without asking who it was on the other side.
"Morning Ichabod, is Abbie here?" Jenny peered over his shoulder, looking past him to determine whether her sister was in.
"Miss Mills. Yes, the Lieutenant is here. Lieutenant!" Ichabod stepped out of the way and held the door open so that jenny, accompanied by Joe, could enter. Joe looked at him and nodded grimly, an acknowledgment that was mirrored by Ichabod's bearded countenance. While Jenny spoke to Abbie, Joe stood near Ichabod and stared into space. Finally Ichabod fell to a compulsion and turned to him as he let the door close.
"Master Corbin, the day is not progressing smoothly?"
"Jenny has found something out about Pandora's Box, apparently it might have another property that we hadn't known before. It was crafted by the gods of old, you know, the nice ones, and it's power was used to trap the Hidden One, but we think it might be possible to literally put him into the Box."
"That would be a vast intuitive leap Master Corbin."
"I know but we haven't found anything else new and it seemed like it was important to make the leap."
"I see your point Master Corbin." Ichabod felt conscious of the book in his hands and once again he slid it behind his back, standing straight and soldier-like by the entry-way.
"Jenny mentioned something about a find in that mausoleum thing you went to the other day, did you get anywhere with that?" The sore point made Ichabod wince, not something that was missed by the ex-soldier.
"I have been, as yet, unable to decipher or even open the text."
"Wow. Even you?"
"Yes. I fear I am unable to gain any foothold in whatever world this book inhabits." Ichabod pulled the book from behind him and held it out to show Joe the inscription on the back.
"I was thinking maybe I could consult with Miss Jenny, as she has handled many unknown artefacts with all manner of scripts, and maybe she might have seen something with a similar strain of pictograms."
"Once she's had words with Abbie then she should be free to deal with your book. Wait, you can't open the book?"
"Unfortunately, no. The book will not allow anyone who has thus far attempted to open the pages."
"Wow. Okay, I'll ask Jen. Give me a sec." Joe nodded at him again and walked over to where the two sisters were talking. He tapped Jenny on the shoulder and when she looked up he gestured back toward where Ichabod stood. He shifted uncomfortably against the wall and tried to smile. His lips twitched in an attempted smile but it was more of a whisker twitch. Jenny nodded at something Joe said and she waved Ichabod over.
"Crane, what did you want me to look at?" He nodded and held the book out, his knuckles white as he struggled internally with the release of the book. Jenny took it with some difficulty and turned it over, looking at the both the back and front. Experimentally she tried to open the pages but when that failed she looked closely at the back. After only a few moments she shook her hand and reached out, handing it back to Crane who gripped it like a vice and held it to his stomach possessively.
"I don't think I've ever seen something like this Crane; it's like Egyptian hieroglyphs but something about the characters is off."
"That is what I thought when I first examined them, but every time I look at them they look less and less familiar. They never change, but I still cannot determine what it is about them that is so confounding."
Jenny smiled.
"You will get it Crane; you know you will. But you need to sleep. Abbie told me that last night was the first full night for you. You know you need sleep, right?"
"I understand your opinion Miss Jenny but I need to understand this text before I can sleep soundly." Jenny and Abbie exchanged looks and Abbie rolled her eyes.
"Go to the archives with Joe, Crane. Jenny and I will work from here today. Maybe Joe can help you, or he can do his own research with his theory about the Box. But you'll get your time to work on that book." Ichabod looked at Joe, seeing the proud strong face of a soldier staring back at him. His eyes were smiling and he nodded slowly.
"Thank you." He bowed slightly to the Mills sisters and turned to the front door. Joe was already holding it open for him and he bowed slightly to him in turn and walked out to the truck. Joe watched him to walk around to the passenger side and climb in. He sat very straight, his precious book actually held against his body with the seatbelt. Something was wrong.
"What's wrong Captain?"
Ichabod started when his title broke the air. Crane found that it seemed to make him unnerved, though crane couldn't tell why he was be so unhappy about his title.
"Master Corbin, I, uh, find myself unhappy that this mystery is so fully allusive to me."
"I understand Crane, it's fine." Crane just nodded and looked out into the town as they drove. He tried to remember what it looked like when he'd first come here, tried to overlay the new town with his remembrances of the original town. He zoned out staring out into space and when the truck finally stopped he took a few moments to recognise that they had reached their destination. Joe was looking at him with a strange mix of concern and confusion. Crane shook himself out of his daze and unclipped his seat belt, letting himself out of the truck and into the archives. Joe followed him in and watched as he made a bee-line for the work bench at the focal point of the room by the biggest set of bookshelves. He placed his precious book on top of the already messy workspace and once again began to examine the cover, this time under some sort of bright light and a magnifying glass. Shaking his head, Joe began to hunt through cases, cabinets and shelves hunting for anything to mention Pandora's Box. There was already a pile compiled by the indomitably enthusiastic Captain Crane, but he felt like there had to be more. There was always more. And Jenny had found information about several books that might be helpful; the best part was, they were books that Jenny had retrieved from all over the world for August Corbin, but never understood a use for. Joe was combing them for any viable information concerning the Box or related mythology. Suddenly there was ringing sound and Joe looked up at Crane. He didn't react to the sound so Joe reached into his pocket and retrieved his phone . The message was from Abbie; Don't let Crane burn the book. Joe didn't think the message made a lot of sense, surely Crane wouldn't burn anything so potentially important. But he decided he would pass the message along anyway.
"Hey Crane! Abbie and Jenny want you to know that you shouldn't burn the book. Though I don't think you would actually do anything that stupid."
"I attempted that folly yesterday evening, it does not do anything to the book, though it had damaged the bench beneath."
"You tried to burn a vital book?"
"I will admit that it was a foolish action, but it damaged nothing more than my confidence and a small portion of the table."
"Well, don't do it again. And that's an order from the Mills sisters."
"Understood." Crane sounded distracted, his attention focussed on the books in front of him still. He suddenly looked up at Joe, his brilliant blue eyes glowing with something close to feverish excitement.
"Perhaps this is not the method I need to take. Perhaps… Perhaps if I read other books, about the Box, about anything at all, I might discover something."
"You think that might actually work?" Joe didn't sound unconvinced; he knew that sometimes looking in a different direction could clear the mind, but something about the wild look in his eyes told Joe that he wasn't necessarily thinking about this logically. He was panicking. Joe hadn't seen him like this since Abbie had gone missing.
Crane didn't answer straight away. Instead her turned his back and began examining the spines of the books on the shelf. He drew a couple from their spaces and placed them next to the un-open-able book. He threw open the pages and began to scan the pages fiercely like a man possessed. When found nothing in the first book he cast it aside and reached for the second. It was only then that he spoke, raising his hand and extending a single finger in a characteristic signal of discovery.
"I think it may. Operating under the assumption, hopefully not erroneously, that this book is related to Pandora's Box, then maybe, just maybe, there might be clues in the original Pandora Myth."
"I follow you. So you want to find mention of a book? Maybe one made by the gods that made the Box?"
"That is what I hope to find." Ichabod didn't sound as confident as he usually did when he had a ground breaking idea. He almost sounded… Despondent.
"Well how can I help?"
"Perhaps look for any signs of other relics; the relics do not need to be referenced as books, but I think the necessity here is that the objects were created by the same deities as the Box."
"I'll start looking then." Both men fell silent as they began to read their books, the flicking of pages and frustrated sighs of a stymied search the only sound either heard until the doors were thrown open several hours later. Both men leapt nearly out of their skins as Abbie's voice seemed to ring out, filling the previously silent room.
"How goes the bookworming you two?" Jenny laughed at the men's reactions and went straight to Joe's side, wrapping one arm affectionately around his shoulder. Abbie found herself staring at their intimacy and then turning her gaze to Crane. Sometimes she wished their relationship was more intimate, but other times she knew that was probably just her hormones talking. It did look comforting though, to have something to hold onto.
"I think we've actually made some progress Abbie. Crane, I heard you make a triumphant noise about half an hour ago, did you find something?"
Crane looked at him blankly for a second, eyes glazed over, before they unglazed and he looked down at the pages in front of him.
"Oh, uh, yes. Quite right. I found a reference to a ceremony that took place around the time of the creation of the Box. The powers that made the Box also created the gods of ancient Greece. The powers Pandora spoke of when she talked of the binding of the Hidden One and the creation of the Box belonged to the Titans."
"The Titans?" Joe didn't sound convinced.
"They were the power that came before the gods of Greece; they were their parents and ancestors and they were eventually jailed beneath the earth." Jenny sounded curiously proud. Abbie and Joe looked at her in surprise but Ichabod looked like she was doing exactly what he was expecting.
"Well done Miss Jenny. You're right; but not all the titans remained imprisoned. One escaped, Leto. Leto was the titan of the unseen and hidden; she was powerful and no one could find her."
"You're saying Leto, an unstoppable all powerful older than time itself titan, not even a god, more than a god in fact, a titan, is our answer?" Abbie tried to say it without sounding like she wasn't supportive but she couldn't quite manage it.
"When you say it like that Lieutenant you make it sound like we should be locked in an asylum for the very idea coming into our heads. We have met the horseman of death and you have visited other dimensions and purgatory, how could finding the descendants of a powerful god-mothering creature sound any less rooted in sanity?"
"I have to go with Abbie on this one Crane, it sounds insane." Joe got a disapproving look from Jenny but it didn't stop him from voicing his opinion. Ichabod glared at his three companions and then his shoulders sagged. Abbie instantly felt ashamed; it was like he had given up, and he had given up because of what she had said.
"Crane, look, maybe it's a good lead. You should keep working on it, it's not like we're going to find the answer conveniently marked word for word in the newspaper or anything. The answer is going to be obscure, we knew that."
"Well I will follow this lead and you three may attack any lead you find with the ferocity that you see fit." His tone was dismissive, just like a captain dismissing his lieutenants, and now all three felt bad for their doubts. There was nothing they could do however; when he made his mind up it was made up for good. The three left, closing the door behind them and leaving him alone.
Ichabod closed his eyes and took a deep breath, breathing in the silence and the dust and the history that seemed to swirl around him in this chamber. He looked down at his work and sighed deeply. Maybe Abbie was right; maybe this was not going to work, maybe he was reading too much into the finer nuances of some vaguely worded legends, maybe he couldn't actually find one of the legendary Shaded Priestesses, the noble followers of Leto prior to the titans' descent into their other-dimensionally prison. He sighed again and thought about the mechanics of finding such a difficult to find order. He had already consulted the masonic tomes he had in his possession and none of them mentioned the priestesses as an order of any kind, but there was one vague mention of a 'Shade' or 'Shader' - the penmanship was not the best - that seemed to consider them something other than a mythological beast. He looked down at the book that had started all this and placed his hand down on it, feeling the energy within its pages. He stroked the front and then tilted his head; he could feel something in the leather dipping, like there was a subtle moulding or engraving beneath the surface of the leather. He shifted the book on its side, peering at the cover under the oblique light cast by the lamp. He could see something; there was something there. It was the shape of an animal, with antlers or horns; maybe a demonic form or symbol of some kind. Excited that for once there something different about the book he turned it over, his hand cradling the image as he looked at the indecipherable letters on the back. He felt better somehow, looking at those horrible letters didn't give him a pounding headache anymore. His fingers absent mindedly traced the image on the front of the book while he caressed the pictograms with his eyes. One by one he examined them, tracing every line like it were holy to him. It took him a long time to get to the last few symbols and then he was shocked to realise he recognised these ones; they might have been stylized and warped beyond recognition but Ichabod's keen intellect finally found a pattern that he could understand; Latin. The last three words were Latin. They read, Read the lines and the beautiful words and see them dance call upon my heart with your own. He frowned. It wasn't a line from a poem or book, nothing that he recognised from any cultural or antique text. And it bore no apparent semblance to anything he had read surrounding the legend of Leto or the titans or anything he had ever read in his long life. He remembered everything he had ever written or read; why did these words feel so powerful to him?
"Crane, do you want to come home for dinner?" Abbie poked her head around the door and looked up at where Crane was sitting staring into space like a happy child.
"You look like you made a discovery."
"I have deciphered the last few words of the back of the book. They mean something to me but I cannot remember what. While the lack of memory disturbs me, I find that the elation of being able to understand something has overtaken my need to make total sense of the situation."
"So… No dinner?"
"No, I feel I must unearth the rest if this great mystery. I am well on my way and I cannot lose any of my impetus. I could get breakfast for us in the morning for when you arrive?"
"That could work. I'll see you in the morning Crane. Goodnight." Abbie shut the door after her and Ichabod was once alone and the silence was bliss. He traced the shape on the front cover again and again, the pattern setting itself into his brain where the cogs and wheels turned it over and over searching for another symbol that might match, even if it were only in part. He stood in silence, still except for the movements of his fingers. His closed eyes moved, their blue irises dancing underneath his lids. It was getting more and more familiar, more complete. It reminded him of a crest, a family crest. But not one of the many he knew from England; one he had seen here, in Sleepy Hollow or somewhere similar. He put the book down and lifted his sketchbook up, using a slender stick of charcoal he began to draw what his fingers had memorised. It took shape and within minutes he stood before a beautiful shield featuring an elegant deer, head raised high. Antlers crossed at the top by a short and elegant Latin script. He knew this emblem. He'd seen it recently; the mausoleum.
Grabbing his book he made for the door, snatching his coat on the way. The mausoleum wasn't too far to walk and he didn't want to leave it too long; if he left it until tomorrow morning… Well, nothing would happen necessarily but it just felt like the field trip had to be now. He ran into the street and stopped dead in the centre; what he wouldn't give for a horse right now. He began his walk through the darkened streets, turning corners and striding through garden bed, determined to reach his goal. The mausoleum was somehow linked; the Lieutenant hadn't been able to tell him who had been buried there and he hadn't thought much of the family crest until now. He must have seen it before this though, surely, the image was so strong in his memory now that he knew where he'd seen it in the modern era. While his fast paced half-jog could not be called a stroll under any definition of the word, he did find the cool air refreshing to his senses. The shield reminded him of one he had seen shortly before his departure to his final battle; it had been on a pennant held by a woman as she watched her husband ride off to war. The woman didn't look very familiar, maybe he had met her socially once. Maybe twice. He found himself standing before the mausoleum looking up at the symbol above the door, his incredible memory searching for the answers. Then it clicked; Captain Fawn. His wife had waved that pennant when he left for the same battle that he himself had died in. So what did the Fawn family have to do with the book he couldn't open?
"With what strange magic have you bound yourself here?" Ichabod muttered, staring down at the ground and then looked up. Taking a deep breath he pushed the already unlocked door open and slid into the dark space within. It smelled strange in there; like he was now in a different place. It hadn't smelled like this last time he had been here with the Mills sisters. He looked around despite the dark and reached for the lantern that he had left behind on Abbie's insistence; he turned it on and held it up letting the light fall upon the large stone sarcophagus in the centre of the room. He walked over and placed the book, front cover face down, on the sarcophagus and placed the lantern next to it, letting the sharp angle of the light make the words easier to discern. He focussed on the lines and followed the instructions in the Latin portion of the script. He had to read it silently and wish hard for something with all his heart; so with each of the pictograms he traced them with his eyes and then he memorised them. It took him a long time to get to the end and when he finally did he stood straight and placed his fingers on the surface of the book, breathing deeply and stroking the leather. It took him four or five strokes to realise the cover was now smooth and blemish free, the pictures gone. Ichabod's eyes flashed open, staring down in disbelief. He had broken it somehow. How could he have done such a terrible thing? His one cluse, his one…
"Captain Crane?" Ichabod froze and turned around. A young woman stood behind him and to his left, right in the corner of the space. Her clothing was old fashioned, her dress elegant and simple. It did not have the full skirt he would have expected with the rest of her garments, but it showed that she had a narrow waist and broad hips, with even broader shoulders wrapped in a black cloth that hung down her back like a witch's cape.
"Captain Crane, I am so glad you finally understood the instructions. I did not want anyone to understand it except for you."
"I find myself at a loss for words Miss." Ichabod backed away and put the large stone coffin between himself and this new friend. Or foe. It was hard for him to understood this situation; usually mystical beings appeared in a puff of smoke or flash of brilliant light. She stood still like she had been there for centuries. She didn't even look like she was anything other than a young woman far away from home.
"I do not fathom precisely the nature of what I have done or who you are." He tried to sound apologetic, keeping his body language non-confrontational .
"You summoned me from within the spiritual void; I have been waiting for a summons of this nature for a very long time. Life is lonely and painful without meaning."
"I can understand what you mean Miss." He looked down at the ground and then looked back up at her.
"But I still do not understand who you are. Do you have a name?"
"But you know me Captain."
"You insist on calling me Captain, but I do not understand exactly the purpose of my title in this scenario."
"Your name is Captain Ichabod Crane. You fought alongside Captain Thomas Fawn. You met with Mrs Emily Fawn the day before your final battle."
Now he couldn't understand; she wasn't answering his question.
"My name is Ayla, Ayla Fawn." She looked at him expectantly and Crane let the name roll over and over in his head. It was familiar, but for some reason it reminded him of Katrina. Though not in a painful way. He remembered a young woman, the child of a fellow soldier, whom Katrina took into her care a began to train in the healers' ways. Ayla. Little Miss Ayla.
"Little Miss?" His use of the title made her laugh, and the sound brought back more memories from the day of the battle.
"Captain." She curtsied and looked up at him with a delicate smile. He laughed at her and reached out one hand, stepping around the coffin and gracefully bowed. She took his hand and followed him to the door.
"I need to introduce you to my friends, they will be delighted to know that I have deciphered your book; I must admit that it confounded me for so long."
"I would love to meet Grace, she sounds like a wonderful woman and a brilliant and powerful Witness."
"You know of my companion?"
"I have known for a long time. You two a legends, literally, and I placed my Book here in the vain hope that you would be the one to discover its secrets." Ichabod smiled down at her. She was older than he remembered her, but her hand was still small and pale. His hands felt so big.
"Well then you would like to meet her?"
"I would love to meet her." Ayla squeezed his hand and he led her to the door and out into the cool night air. She lifted her head and breathed in deeply, her chest swelling and her other hand raising up feeling the air between her fingers.
"You know, I think the world feels better with purpose. I didn't have purpose before but after you summoned me I feel like the world has come alive."
"I am glad to hear that my summoning has given you purpose." Ichabod glanced down at Ayla as they strolled down the main street towards the archives.
"Well I'm glad that you were the one to summon me. It could have been someone else if they had found the book. And I suppose if they were as intelligent as yourself Captain."
"Well thank you Little Miss. I promised the Lieutenant that I would provide breakfast this morning, do you mind accompanying me? The sun will be rising soon and the bakery near the archives should open just before that and then I can bring her food as well as you."
"You are a very considerate man Captain." Ayla smiled up at him and he smiled back, leading her toward the bakery. Ayla let him lead her and when they got there she took the lead and ordered half a dozen pastries, reaching out and swiping a slender card against the machine proffered by the assistant. She took the bags and handed them to him.
"This is a good selection, I think you would like them."
"Oh, but you don't know what the Lieutenant likes."
"I bought a selection Captain, I'm sure there will be something she likes."
"Of course, what a brilliant plan Little Miss." Ichabod took her hand again and together they walked to the archives, Ichabod let them in and the sun shone its first few rays in through a high window. Ichabod had only just sat down and Ayla was perusing the bookshelf and examining the apothecary in the cabinets when the door opened and Abigail Mills poked her head around the edge.
"You still here Crane?"
"Yes indeed Lieutenant. I brought breakfast."
"Thank you. Oh, what's this?" Abbie lifted the first of the baked goods out of the bag and looked up at Crane questioningly.
"This is not our usual selection Crane. It's not like you to forget stuff."
"Oh that is because the selection was not made by the Captain." Crane's eyes darted between Abbie and Ayla, waiting for Abbie's disgusted response. It didn't come.
"And who are you?" Abbie thought she might have been from the historical re-enactment society that Crane liked to hang around with; she was dressed appropriately and her speech was stilted in a way that suggested period drama.
"My name is Ayla Fawn. Captain Crane summoned me with my Book and now I am here to assist in whatever endeavour furthers the cause of the Witnesses."
"Ayla Fawn. Why is that name familiar Crane?"
"The mausoleum we visited, in which we found the confounding book, belonged to one Emily Fawn, late wife to Captain Thomas Fawn. I knew Ayla when she was a small child; she went to train with Katrina in the arts of healing."
"Ah yes. So you are a witch?" Ayla shook her head with violence.
"No no, Katrina took me under her wing for but a few weeks; she quickly discovered I had powers that should be possessed by neither a woman of my age nor my training. In fear her coven turned upon me just as they turned upon Jeremy. Unlike Jeremy I managed to flee, and I found my way through the centuries, teaching myself the elements of my magic that drove the white coven to make attempts upon my young life."
"Katrina tried to kill you too?" Abbie looked at Crane, assessing his reaction to the news. Instead of the anger or defensiveness that usually accompanied talk of Katrina's wickedness, there was a kind of indulgence. He was looking at Ayla in a way she had never seen him look at anyone before.
"Yes, though without knowledge of the true source of my powers her attempts were weak and ineffective. The coven had no power over me."
"And what is the true source of your power?" Abbie looked at Crane quickly after asking the question, wondering whether he had bothered to check.
"I am a child of the Titan Leto." Ayla's vice rang with truth and Abbie looked at Crane, who was smiling triumphantly. He hadn't been wrong about his research; he had actually found someone with the power to potentially put an end to Pandora.
"So you're more powerful than an entire coven?"
"I'm more powerful than the largest blood magic coven; Shaders use the power of their unbound souls to preform impossible acts; those are the powers passed on to me by Leto and they have been useful so far. I hope they will be useful for your cause also."
"Indeed I believe they will be." Crane grinned and looked at Abbie.
"Lieutenant, I believe we have found our weapon."
Abbie nodded slowly and then looked more closely at the woman in the corner. She withdrew a few more baked goods and then held them up.
"You have good tastes in pastries Ayla."
"Thank you." Ayla curtsied and walked across the room, passing the goods and walking up to the spot where Crane stood. The smile he gave her lit his face like Christmas morning.