Trudy was jolted from her sleep by a jumble of raised voices outside her bedroom and immediately felt fear grip her like a vice. She had been awakened by a similar commotion the night the ATF came knocking, right before her whole world turned to fire and ashes.

'What was that thing, Crane?' The panic was evident in Abbie's voice.

'I believe it was some form of shape-shifting demon, Miss Mills. I was unable to beg an introduction before it attempted to tear my head off.' Crane did not attempt to conceal his naked sarcasm.

Trudy could hear Abbie's deep sigh of irritation through the door. 'Well, Jenny's still out there and she's not answering her phone.' She could not resist one last jibe before departing. 'If you're sure you can take care of yourself while I'm gone.'

The strain in both their voices reminded her forcefully of all the fights she had overheard between her mother and Clifton Larroquette, the man who had styled himself her father. She shuddered at the memory. Ever since her mother had moved them to the compound, her guts had been permanently knotted in fear, waiting for the inevitable moment when Clifton would snap.

'Crane?' she heard the sleep in her voice as she tip-toed through the living room to the kitchen. Crane was seated at the kitchen table, his head held in his hands. 'Are you okay?'

He looked up at her in surprise. 'Miss Trudy, I did not mean to wake you. I am merely the worse for a few cuts and bruises – that is all.'

His face and hands were covered with a series of minor scratches, but his neck bore a scrape that still oozed blood, staining the collar of his shirt.

'I'll better clean those up.' Trudy pulled the first-aid kit out of the cabinet under the sink. 'So,' she mused as she took antiseptic ointment, gauze, scissors and sterile wipes from the bag and laid them on the table. 'A shape-shifter, huh? That's a real thing?'

'It's nothing for you to worry about, my dear. Suffice it to say that the threat has been eliminated.' He let out a sharp gasp as Trudy began to clean the worst of the scratches.

'Lucky it's not a couple millimetres deeper,' Trudy commented. 'You woulda needed stiches.' She worked in silence, treating his neck wound and covering it with gauze. 'There. Feel better?'

'Yes,' Crane replied with some surprise. 'Oddly enough I do.' Her words had seemed to penetrate his brain, soothing him. Rather than being woozy as a result, he felt more alert, more at ease. He started when he realised what was happening. 'You did it again, didn't you? You used your powers on me!'

Trudy looked at him, taken aback. 'Sorry, I didn't mean to. Sometimes it comes out unexpected, like. I guess it comes from spending so long trying to make people feel normal – my Mom, the other kids at the compound…' Her voice betrayed her as it shuddered into silence.

'Your knowledge of healing is a boon to you,' Crane said softly.

Trudy shrugged. 'My grandma taught me everything I know. She was a proper old school witch – black cat, grimoire, bottles full of gnarly-looking crap. She couldn't do a spell to save her life, but she was a healer, like me. She told me I'd been given my powers for a reason – that one day, I'd understand. "People like us are different," she said. "Our powers aren't a blessing, but a burden. We are often called upon to make a terrible sacrifice. You'll learn that someday."'

She finished covering the rest of his wounds and fixed him with an unflinching stare. 'I want to help you stop Moloch, or Henry Parish, or whoever. Maybe that's the reason why I have this gift – or whatever it is. Maybe I'm supposed to do this.'

Crane lifted a bandaged hand and gently covered hers. 'We cannot force you to do this. If you agree to it, we will do everything in our power to keep you from harm.'

Trudy smiled, meeting his gaze without fear. 'What are we waiting for, then?'

The door swung open at that moment, revealing Abbie and Jenny, dishevelled and wind-blown. Each of them bore a look of faint astonishment as they entered the house. Crane got to his feet out of customary deference.

'Crane.' Abbie seemed distinctly uncomfortable as she faced him. 'Jenny has something to tell you, something she failed to mention earlier.'

'We were being chased by a shape-shifter at the time, Abbie. It didn't seem like the right moment.'

Crane looked from one sister to another, recognising the unique discomfort on both of their faces. 'What is the matter, Lieutenant?' he asked eventually.

'We're not alone, Crane.'

Before he could reply, he sensed the presence of another person in the room. He turned and saw the flash of green eyes that never failed to rend his heart. 'Katrina,' he uttered.

'Hello, Ichabod.'

Crane stood frozen for a moment, unable to formulate a cogent thought. Eventually, Katrina's eyes drifted from his and landed on Trudy's face.

'My God,' she whispered. 'It's just as Aled predicted. She's one of us.'

Trudy looked unnerved at the intensity of Katrina's gaze. 'One of who? Who are you, lady?'

'I am Ichabod's wife.'

'Oh, the witch who ran away.'

Crane was growing more irritated as time went by. 'Katrina, where have you been? You left with scarcely a word of explanation.'

'I have been searching for others like myself. The last thing I expected was to return and find another witch here in Sleepy Hollow.'

Jenny spoke up. 'We think she can bring Henry back. Trudy has healing powers – we think that extends to Moloch's influence over him.'

Katrina considered this for a moment. 'She needs training. Aled will need to know the extent of her powers.'

'Who is Aled?' Crane queried, not truly wanting to know the answer.

'He is the leader of my coven – a powerful warlock who has been teaching me to channel and focus my power after my imprisonment. He had a prophetic dream that a young witch would rise and face the ultimate trial against evil.'

'Yeah, I get it, ok?' Trudy sighed with impatience. 'I'm the special snowflake that gets to defeat the Big Bad. When do we start training?'

Trudy sat at a picnic table in the middle of the trailer park. She toyed with a handful of pebbles, waiting for the kids to wander back to their homes for TV dinner so she could practise alone.

Jenny had dropped her off early that morning, standing beside her like a sentry as a mean-looking man with beer-breath and a heavy gait ushered them into the trailer. The interior gave no indication that there was anything supernatural at play; the walls were bare and the rooms were sparsely furnished.

Katrina got to her feet, still regarding Trudy with that strange unflinching gaze like she was something rare and wonderful. 'Trudy, how nice to see you again. May I present my counterpart, Aled.'

The man was tall and powerfully-built, with long, dark hair and vulpine features. Trudy felt a little unnerved by his presence. When he spoke, his accent was unrecognisably foreign to her ears.

'You have the look of a witch in any case. We'll see if your powers match up to your reputation.'

Trudy felt exhausted after the day's labours, trying to commit to memory all that Katrina and Aled had taught her. She felt hopelessly outmatched in their presence. Even her healing skills were paltry things when compared with the powers they possessed. She began to wonder if some mistake had been made, if she really was the one who was supposed to face Henry Parish and drain him of his evil.

The air felt chill as darkness descended around her. She knew that she should go back inside and wait for Jenny to come and pick her up, but she was relishing these last few minutes of silence and peace as the last of the sun's light evaporated. The calm before the storm.

If she hadn't been so tired, she might have sense the presence of unseen figures watching from afar. They were cloaked in shadows, protected by the darkness that they served with such unswerving loyalty. The Hessian soldiers made their silent approach, unsheathing their weapons and preparing to strike.

Abbie had spent the whole day at her desk dealing with the mountain of paperwork accrued from the shape-shifter's onslaught. There was a mess of property damage and human injury to be accounted for, and it took all of her creative ingenuity to explain it away without sounding like she belonged in Tarrytown.

Trudy was squirreled away with Katrina, working on improving her magic. Abbie gritted her teeth with irritation when she thought of Katrina, the woman who had lied to Crane, before abandoning and leaving him bereft.

Her mind dwelled on Crane and how he must be feeling at that moment, confusion and happiness dueling in his brain at having his beloved wife back again. It annoyed her, how easily Katrina could waltz in and make him her slave once more.

Her fingers rattled the keyboard with frustration at the thought of Crane welcoming her back with open arms. As much as she admired her partner's warm heart and endless optimism, his naivety regarding Katrina was trying her patience beyond breaking point.

The sound of her phone ringing offered a respite from her work and from the gloomy monotony of her thoughts.

'Mills.'

'Hey, Abbie.' It was Jenny, and her voice sounded muted and strange.

'Jenny, what's up?'

There was a pause, a slight clearing of the throat. 'Look, Abbie. Try not to over-react, but…'

At those words, Abbie immediately tensed up. Her heart raced, panic seeming to leach into her very bones as she tried to calm her racing heart rate. 'Tell me, Jenny.'

Seconds ticked by as Abbie listened to her sister's shallow breaths on the other end of the line. It was only then that she felt real fear, only then that she realised that something truly horrible had happened.

'Trudy's missing.'