Chapter 1 – Foot-In-Mouth Syndrome

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Julia was aware of the buzz of voices around her as she slowly woke up, but she found it impossible to discern actual words, perhaps because of the blaring pain in her skull. Wincing, the teen subtly raised a hand to massage one of her temples, hoping to somehow alleviate the pain without alerting those in the room of her return to consciousness. All this was in vain, however, as someone called out loudly, announcing she was awake.

Confused, and feeling dopey, as if she had been drugged, Julia opened her eyes sluggishly and the world swam into view. After blinking a few times, everything came into focus, but the impossible situation remained. Before her were stood several people, all dressed in early 19th century clothing. One was a woman with long blonde hair, and the others were men – one with dark, messy hair was stood with his arm around the blonde woman, and the two others were huddled together, muttering, their exact featured difficult to discern by the room's dim lighting. As the last tendrils of sleep lost their grip on her, Julia was able to concentrate on the words being spoken around her,

"Where am I?" She slurred. "What happened to my couch?"

"Excuse me?" The blonde woman asked; a concerned look on her face. One of the men in the huddled group – a large, balding man with twinkling eyes – looked up sharply and shook his head.

"I think the girl's got a touch of amnesia." He declared. "Let's see… what's the last thing you remember?"

"Falling asleep on my couch." Julia answered, feeling more and more confused by the second but deciding to play along for now, if only to work out where she was. In the back of her mind, she wondered if she had been kidnapped by some sort of cult. "What happened? Why am I here?"

"You were found in the Western Woods by Jack Grahams here." The dark-haired man explained, indicating a ginger-haired man. "You were unconscious, so they brought you here, to Dr. Jameson's surgery."

"What happened to you, lass?" Jack Grahams yet asked, his ginger hair falling into brown eyes hard with suspicion. "And dressed up like a lad to boot."

"Huh?" Julia looked down at herself, and remembered she was wearing jeans. "They're just jeans… everyone wears them where I come form." Sighing, she decided to explain everything. "Look, the last thing I remember was falling asleep in my house during a huge thunderstorm after I'd finished celebrating Imbolg."

Her words were met with a collective gasp from the men, but the blonde woman simply looked as if everything had fallen into place. Abruptly, she tugged on the dark-haired man's sleeve and whispered something into his ear, to which his eyes widened and he gave Julia an appraising look before nodding distractedly and turning to the doctor.

"Well, Dr. Jameson, it seems as if everything is in order. I'm sure you have other patients to tend to." It was a subtle dismissal, and the doctor was obviously a keen enough man to pick up on subtleties, for he nodded, quickly gathered his things together and left. After a few moments, Jack Grahams followed him, but not before shooting Julia a distrustful glare that sent a shiver down her spine. Obviously he was anti-Wicca – something that Julia was well used to, though it still annoyed her.

A few beats of silence passed between the three people left in the room, before Julia decided that the best way forward would be to establish exactly what had happened. Since she wasn't restrained in any way, and the couple – for they were quite obviously together in more than one way – had even called a doctor to make sure she was alright, the teen deduced that it was unlikely that she'd been kidnapped. This realisation calmed her enough to allow her to form her questions in a way that would not make her look insane. After all, maybe the doctor was right, and she did have amnesia. Julia knew how her father loved history; it was a completely viable theory that he had dragged her along to one of his conventions, and she'd had an accident, maybe hit her head. Accusing these people of kidnapping her wouldn't help her case.

"Thanks for your help, I really am grateful." Julia attempted a weak smile. "But… I think the doctor was right – I have amnesia. I can't really remember much… the last thing I recall, I was in my house in Boston. My dad will be worried about me, so the sooner I can let him know I'm alright, the better."

"Of course, we understand completely." The man replied, nodding. "But first, I think it would be a good idea if we introduced ourselves. My name is Ichabod Crane, and this is my fiancé Katrina Van Tassel."

"Julia Woodrow. It's a pleasure."

"Woodrow?" The woman – Katrina – repeated, surprised. "You aren't by any chance related to Annabel Woodrow, are you? She's the new midwife here in Sleepy Hollow."

"Not that I know of, but then again I don't know much about my dad's side of the family." Julia shrugged, and then what Katrina had said properly registered. Sleepy Hollow…? So it really was a convention! Why else would an engaged couple be role-playing at Katrina Van Tassel and Ichabod Crane? Ha, and to think she'd almost started to wonder if she'd somehow time-travelled!

"An enquiry for a later date, perhaps." Ichabod declared. "But I do believe we promised to answer your questions – ask away."

"Well, for starters, it'd be nice to know the date. At least then I know just how much I've forgotten."

"The eighth of February, in the year of our Lord 1801." Somewhere in the house, a clock struck midnight, and Ichabod hastened to correct his answer. "Ah, make that the ninth."

Julia closed her eyes for a moment, irritated by the extent these people were going to in order to keep up their little convention game. At another time, perhaps she would have admired the completeness of it all, but right now, when she needed clear answers, it was frustrating. Just as she was about to demand that the couple stop fooling about, a young man – also dressed in period clothing – poked his head around the door, looking like a drowned rat. Apparently it was raining heavily outside.

"Sir!" He gasped, trying to deliver a message and catch his breath at the same time. "Sir, there's… there's been another murder. I said you'd be needing to look at the body."

"Another?" Ichabod muttered to himself, instantly changing from relaxed to harried. "Ah, yes, yes, good thinking, young Masbeth. I'll be right along." Then, to Julia and Katrina, "I'm sorry, I'll be back as soon as I can…"

"Go along." Katrina insisted, seeming both understanding and a little bitter. "You need to be there."

As Ichabod and Masbeth left, all Julia could do was gawp. This was unreal. Maybe it was a murder mystery game, but somehow she didn't think it was. There was something too real about the actions of Katrina, Ichabod and Masbeth for this to still be role-play. But if not a game, then what was it? She couldn't really have somehow ended up in the year 1801… could she? In a flash, Julia remembered the spell she had found back in Boston. A spell over two hundred years old… no, that was preposterous, she was making something out of nothing, trying to forge connections where there were none. So, instead of trying to think about any of this, Julia simply buried her face in her hands, and that was why when Katrina laid a hand on her shoulder she almost jumped out of her skin.

"Sorry." The blonde said quickly. "I didn't mean to startle you." A pause, and then: "You don't belong here, do you?"

There was a note of excitement in Katrina's voice that unnerved Julia slightly, and her answer was wary.

"What do you mean? I know I don't belong in Sleepy Hollow – I live in Boston, like I said."

"Oh, I know that." Katrina waved a hand dismissively. "I mean… oh, this sounds mad, even to me… you're not from this… time, are you?"

"Are you trying to tell me that this really is the year 1801, and that this really is Sleepy Hollow, and not just some weird historical convention my dad dragged me to?" Julia asked weakly. "Like… Headless Horseman and Lady Van Tassel real?"

"I don't understand everything you just said," Katrina admitted, "but yes, that sounds about right. How do you know about the Horseman, though, and Lady Van Tassel, for that matter? Nobody outside of the Hollow knows our legends."

"Where I come from… well, more specifically when I come from… the story of Sleepy Hollow's Hessian is pretty famous." Julia explained. "A lot of know the basic tale – though there are some variations – but everyone thinks it's just a story."

"I can say that I blame them. I'd think it was a story too if I hadn't been here to witness it." Katrina conceded, and then sat down in a nearby chair. Julia waited for her to say something, but the blonde simply sat in silence, as if she was trying to figure something out.

The teen knew it would be a long shot to mention the spell, but it was old enough, and Katrina Van Tassel was supposed to have practised Wicca… well, it couldn't hurt to mention it, seeing as she'd already pretty much given away the fact that she herself practised it.

"There's something else." Julia began carefully. "Back home, I'd recently found a spell that was really old – over two hundred years old, in fact – and it was like a spell in a bottle charm, but different."

Now, even though Julia had dared to hope that Katrina wouldn't just think this was a useless piece of information, she hadn't been prepared for the reaction she received. Katrina stared at Julia for a moment, speechless, and then smiled.

"I knew it!" She exclaimed. "I knew you were the one it had found. The spell – it had the traditional words on one side, and the altered charm on the other, yes?"

"Yeah, it did, actually." Julia nodded, feeling like she was missing something. "Why?"

"That spell was mine." Katrina revealed, still smiling and looking quite pleased with herself. "Though I have to admit, I wasn't expecting someone from… the future, I take it?"

"Yeah." Julia couldn't help but giggle a little at how mad it sounded. "The year 2009, to be exact."

"Over two hundred years…" Katrina shook her head. "I suppose that explains a few things."

"Like my clothes, you mean."

"Amongst other things."

"So, I don't suppose there's any way you can just… you know… send me back, is there?" Julia's tone became more serious again. This was what she really needed to know.

"Unfortunately, I honestly don't know. I never thought it would be a problem I'd have to overcome." It was obvious that Katrina had never meant this to happen, and so Julia couldn't quite find it within herself to be angry with her, but the thought that she might never see what was left of her family, or her friends, ever again was sobering. Katrina mumbled a few apologies uncomfortably as she smoothed the skirt of her dress repeatedly.

"It's alright." Sighing, Julia forced herself to try smiling, and suspected she failed horribly. At least she wasn't crying, which in itself was quite surprising – Julia had always been something of a crybaby. "You didn't mean to pluck me out of my time."

"Yes, but still…"

"Never mind." Julia said firmly. "Right now, we have bigger things to worry about. Like what's all this about murders, and how the hell am I going to find some clothes that won't make me stick out like a sore thumb?"

Having expected this comment to get a laugh out of Katrina, Julia was surprised when, instead, the blonde became subdued once again. Too late, Julia realised who the murderer probably was, and what memories it would be bringing up for Katrina. Great, she'd just started to be on good terms with the woman, and now she'd gone and shoved her foot down her throat.

"I'm sorry, it's just… I worry about Ichabod. He's lucky – very lucky – but luck is notorious for running out." Katrina explained, her eyes fixed on her clasped hands.

"Don't worry, Katrina, I'm sure he'll be fine." It was hard to sound comforting when she knew what Ichabod was up against, but somehow Julia managed it, leaning forward as she spoke to pat Katrina uncertainly on the shoulder.

"I hope so. He should be, though, like you say." With what seemed like a huge effort, Katrina stood, looking very dignified, and as if nothing in the world could trouble her. "Don't tell him, but I've been casting a few protection spells over him, just in case. Ichabod can't deny the existence of magic, but he doesn't mean he puts much faith in it."

"I can keep a secret." Julia promised, smiling. For her effort, she received a small hint of a smile from Katrina, and then the older woman beckoned for Julia to follow her.

"Well, all things in order. First we need to see if any of my dresses can be altered to fit you until we can get some made. Then I think it would make a lot of things clearer if we both explained all we know."

As the two women sorted through gowns, and swapped their tales, growing closer friends with every passing minute, all thoughts of Ichabod, the Hessian, and even the revelation that she might never return home were gradually pushed to the backs of Julia's mind, as if washed away by the rain that still poured outside, as dawn grew closer. Not so for Katrina, who could not help but worry for her fiancé, but even she had to admit there were bright spots to the situation now, and she especially felt heartened by this turn of events. Although guilty still about the fact that she had unwittingly ripped Julia from her home, she had to admit that it was comforting that the spell had brought someone. It seemed unlikely that this strange girl from the future would be the one to finally defeat the Hessian, but she must be able to, else the spell would not have brought her. What would be, would be, and she would make sure she was prepared to face it.