AN oh how i have neglected this story.

The next day was strained. The cottage was quiet as it recovered from Moloch's touch. Jenny couldn't find it in herself to make much more than small talk with Katrina. Part of it was because she was still reeling from her encounter with Moloch, but Jenny was still too pissed at Katrina to act like the woman hadn't just screwed her over. She instead spent long hours in the garage with Zubin. Katrina, out of either consideration or guilt, left her alone. She spent her time reading, curled in on herself as she tried to forget the nightmare of her life.

When Jenny finally felt herself shake the last of Moloch's cold influence, she made herself sit in the living room with Katrina. The other woman was hesitant to be drawn into conversation at first, probably still nervous after having caused so much trouble. Slowly, though, she let herself enjoy the conversation with Jenny.

After a while Katrina's expression closed off.

"What is it?" Jenny asked.

"I simply…I was recalling some of the things Jeremy said to you," she said, forcing out a smile. She took a breath, then asked, "I…was wondering if you could explain. If you don't want to discuss it I completely understand, but I suppose there's no harm. Not much I can do if the apocalypse is only a short while away."

"Like what?"

"He called you a passive force. I mean, you are a Horseman, you've been riding against the Witnesses since you were…changed. What did he mean?"

"Oh, that's just…I dunno, that's something to do with the balance of the Horsemen. It's supposed to be even between us in the ideal situation. If we played by the books, if things unrolled as Revelations and some of the apocrypha say, there'd be a balance between the Horsemen. Two men, two women, two boy horses, two girl horses, two warriors, two magic wielders, stuff like that. And then there's the different elements or natures we control over the end of days. War and Death ended up being your active ones, while Famine and Pestilence…"

"Are the passive ones," Katrina said, nodding. Her expression turned a little more downtrodden when she looked back at Jenny. "Who would have been Pestilence, though? I know Ichabod and Abbie fought off an attack when Pestilence tried to force its way through without a host, but that was more apparition than anything."

"I don't know," Jenny confessed, leaning back in her seat. "I actually don't know a lot outside of what I need to know."
"That's right," Katrina said. The smile she gave Jenny was strained. "It all goes back to that 'big picture' idea."

"Yep. I don't need to know what happened way back when."

"But…the fourth Horseman…you need a woman and someone with magic. Does that mean…have you been…"

"It's not you," Jenny promised, finding enough compassion to squeeze some warm reassurance into the look. Katrina gave her a quick nod, but didn't seem reassured. "You'd think that you'd be perfect, but that's not the case. I don't actually know who the candidate for the last Horseman was. We've been able to take care of everything as is."

"Why the imbalance, though?" Katrina asked, trying to make her voice sound normal. "Why settle for three? Moloch…he likes having control. I would have thought he would do everything he could to dominate this war as soon as possible."

"I dunno," Jenny said, something in her uneasy at the idea of wanton conjecture toward her master's plans. "The Witnesses have kinda been messing things up for us."

And Katrina, Jenny realized. If this one woman hadn't done everything she had the war would have been over much sooner. Fate or the hand of God or dumb luck had intervened, allowing the most powerful witch in America to lend her power to the Witnesses. Maybe that was why Moloch didn't want her as a Horseman. She would be far more biddable in her assigned role.

Katrina gave a tired smile as she looked down at her hands. "Yes, they are surprisingly resilient."

"You can say that again. No matter what we do, they just can't stay down."

Reactionary, clueless, desperate things that they were, the Witnesses still managed to keep the Horsemen on their toes. That much had to be said, at the very least.

"But, like we said, won't matter for long, now. Death's heading back with the last Hellfire Shard, and then we can summon Moloch."

Katrina leaned back, expression falling. "Summon Moloch? You—you're bringing him here?"

"Yeah. How else did you expect him to conquer?"

She shook her head. She was paler than she had been earlier.

"I don't—I suppose I didn't realize," Katrina said. A hollow laugh escaped her, making her press a hand to her mouth to prevent more from coming. She looked like she might be sick.

"Jenny?" she asked after a moment, everything about her still hesitant, though determined to try. "Why…why are you answering all of my questions? Why now, why not evade them like before?"

"Well, like we said, not much you can do to stop it," Jenny said. She hoisted herself out of her chair and went into the kitchen.

Katrina was very quiet for the rest of the day.

Jenny could feel Death cantering down the drive long before he appeared. Katrina had been on edge ever since the sun had gone down, glancing at the window and turning quiet. When she felt him near the cabin, though, she dragged in a breath and closed her eyes tight.

Jenny wanted to reassure her, but everything she had seen in the last week had told her that Katrina going back was not the right choice. But it was the only choice. Jenny could not condemn Abraham for doing the exact same thing she intended to do to Abbie (though she swore to herself that there would be less possessiveness and all around abuse).

She played it cool, though, letting the movie they were watching continue playing. When Zubin nickered about Death and his white steed being outside, though, she couldn't keep pretending. Jenny paused the movie.

"Come on, Katrina," she sighed. "Grab your bag."

Katrina didn't say anything as she picked up her duffle bag (Jenny had helped her pack it full of sugary contraband as well as modern clothing). She stalled in front of the door, face twisted in reluctance.

"I thought it would be easier," she whispered.

"What?"

"I thought living with him would be easier when I told Ichabod to leave me there. He was Abraham once, after all, but now…"

"Now he's not him anymore," Jenny finished.

Katrina looked at her with truly hopeless eyes. "No, he's not."

Jenny had to swallow a few times before she was able to pull the door open. The first thing they saw was Abraham and Snowball, literally larger than life as they waited on the gravel. Abraham was watching Katrina with a hunger Jenny did not like.

"Katrina," he said, striding toward her. His face broke into a wide smile, and the hunger disappeared just long enough to make him look like a normal person. Abraham touched her shoulder as though barely able to believe she was there. Katrina forced a smile but didn't say much.

He looked past her and took a few steps toward Jenny. When they were about a pace away, he gave her a formal nod. "Thank you for taking care of Katrina."

Jenny shrugged and folded her arms. "Yeah, sure. It wasn't a bother."

"War said there was an issue?"

"No," Jenny said, shaking her head. "Just a little scare. We thought she performed magic, but there was no way she could have."

Jenny gave him a thin smile. She was still unsure how Katrina had hidden whatever spell she had performed. And…well, she frankly didn't want to think about Abraham discovering the new markings all over Katrina's back, for a number of reasons.

"Anyways, services rendered. You owe me, remember that."

"Well enough," Abraham said, then turned to leave.

"Hey, hold on a sec."

He frowned at her, but he stopped.

"Please, for the love of anything. Don't make her go back into one of those damn corsets. She's going to break a rib or something."

Abraham watched her for a moment, then nodded. He didn't say anything as he strode back to his horse, catching Katrina's arm and dragging her with him as he went. Katrina strained to look at Jenny and managed to raise her hand in a feeble good-bye.

Jenny stalked back into the house before they started moving.

She went inside and tried making dinner. Her attempts at mashed potatoes ended with the mixing bowl hurled at the wall. She shouldn't have given Katrina back. Abraham dictated everything Katrina did and then lashed out when she tried to assert her own independence. Jenny shouldn't have given her back.

She abandoned dinner and turned on the shower. Jenny stripped down and stepped into the spray, weakly hoping that the hot water would make her feel better. It didn't. Jenny grabbed a bar of soap she had been neglecting since she bought herself a new bottle. She scrubbed it over her skin and through her hair, scraping her fingernails across and then sending them over her body like maybe she could scour the bad decision away.

She kept replaying the scene, turning over Abraham's hunger, Katrina's reluctance, and her own selfishness in her mind. She should not have left Katrina go. She should have protested, made Abraham promise to treat her better. She should have insisted that he tell Katrina what awaited her in less than two days' time. She should have asked why the hell he was alright locking her away from the world, from sunlight itself.

She probably should have hugged Katrina good-bye.

Jenny stood under the spray for a few long moments, chest heaving. She felt confused. Her hands were shaking and her mind kept running over the image of Katrina looking at her over her shoulder, but…Jenny was empty inside. Her head knew it was wrong and her body knew it was wrong, but she didn't feel the sting of nausea or anger or disgust that should have accompanied it.

She turned off the water and dried herself. Zubin was quiet as she slipped into her pajamas and flopped onto the bed.

It should have felt good to be sleeping there for the first time in over a week, but all Jenny could think of was Katrina, whispering secrets to her in the dark.

The next morning Jenny still felt hollow, starved into apathy for lack of answers. She skipped breakfast and took Zubin out to one of his favorite clearings. The hours drizzled away as she stroked his side and watched him eat grass. When night approached, she led him back to the garage and put on his tack. Then Famine mounted her horse and rode into the darkening forest.

It was Famine's job to lure out the Witnesses. With all of the Hellfire Shards collected, the Horsemen of the Apocalypse were able to start the final leg of their plan. All of the Horsemen were certain that the Witnesses had used the week long break as an attempt to rally themselves, but it was futile.

Sleepy Hollow would be the sacred ground of Lord Moloch's rebirth, and all of the souls residing in it were fodder for his might.

Their actions had becoming increasingly bold as they neared success, but none of the Horsemen had been brazen enough to blatantly ride through the streets of Sleepy Hollow. Famine now did, wielding her staff and carving a vicious swathe of starvation in her wake. People initially thought the lunatic on the black horse was dangerous and could not control herself as the staff snaked out to hit passersby. They didn't realize until several hours later that people had begun withering on the spot after they had been hit.

The police force, now so perilously thin, tried containing the mass panic as the citizens were pushed to their limit. People tried to escape the cursed town, but found the roadways blocked, the small airport in ruins, the docks barricaded, and the forest unyielding. They were trapped.

The Witnesses assembled their small reserve of weapons and allies and took to the streets. Since Famine was the only Horseman making herself known, they targeted her. Famine allowed herself to be chased into a corner, apparently desperate after having overreached herself in a fight. She scanned the faces before her as they crowded her into an abandoned warehouse; Ichabod, Abbie, Irving, Hawley, and a few strangers she didn't recognize. Nice to see they had replaced her so quickly.

Zubin screamed and charged at them as she rolled out of his saddle. People scattered as he lashed out, forgetting Famine in the horse's fury. She tackled a man that got too close, yanking the gun out of his hands and stomping on his chest to keep him down.

She fired off two shots, sending Hawley to his knees as he clutched his leg. Two witches were frantically trying to cast a spell on her, but another shot sent one of them to the ground.

Then the doors of the warehouse were blasted aside as War's avatar thundered in. The horse raged through them as the empty suit of armor slashed out flaming death. The warehouse heaved as chaos erupted everywhere, witches hissing out spells, War cutting off limbs, Zubin trampling a man beneath his hooves, Jenny stealing back her staff and condemning a woman to a short, hollow death as starvation was sealed into her skin. They moved with the perfect harmony that came with obeying a higher will.

Famine spun, ready to deal another attack when Jenny found herself face to face with Abbie. Her sister was grimacing in pain, holding onto a gash that had been cut into her arm by War. What stopped Jenny cold was the hate in her eyes, not pain. She hated her sister for what she had become.

"You," Abbie snarled, baring her teeth even now. "You of all people let this happen. You gave yourself to him, after everything he's done to you!"

"It wasn't for me," Jenny said, and then Famine wrested control and slammed a stone charm into her forehead.

Abbie collapsed the moment the stone made contact, but Jenny was there to catch her. War had similarly incapacitated Ichabod and was heaving him onto his steed. Famine didn't bother to acknowledge the empty shell, merely called Zubin over so she could wrestle Abbie onto his back.

Then rode out of the warehouse, ignoring the survivors. She kept a firm hand over the cut on Abbie's arm, trying to stem the bleeding as much as she could.

AN So we have maybe three chapters left? We'll see.