Chapter 8
Like Cardinals In A Cage
Sweeney turned to survey the area behind himself and Edward. Raising a gloved hand to
his forehead to shade his eyes from the setting sun, he stated, "It's gone…". "The portal?"
squeaked Edward, now frightened he may never be able to go home again. "Yes, Edward, the
portal 'as closed. We're going to 'ave to 'ead down to the village and see what there is to be
done about this ourselves. Come." Sweeney motioned for Edward to follow him down the hill,
into the little village below. Edward felt a small sinking in his heart since he had been so
attached to his home, but he followed anyway, figuring nothing else could be done.
A tall, slender figure in a black waistcoat wearing several sets of thick lenses, some of
them looking like telescopes, on his nose was working diligently at a table somewhere in the
village's doctor's office. It was getting late, and he decided to lay down his tools for the night.
"What's your conclusion, Mr. Crane?" asked an elderly man from the adjacent room, "The men
are outside waiting, and we just can't bear it any longer. We all must know.". Ichabod took off
the lenses, and tearing off the gloves he wore, stepped into the other room and announced,
"The widow Winship… Ugh…" his stomach almost lurched. Why had he ever bothered to get
into the field of forensics? "Go on, man, spit it, out!" demanded the other impatiently. "She…
She was with child." he added, hardly able to hold everything down while speaking. "Well! We
must inform them at once!" the other man stood up from his seat and took to helping Ichabod
through the front doors of the clinic to face the men waiting outside.
Edward patiently followed Sweeney until they came to the first house. "Mr. Todd?"
Edward called, frightened now. Sweeney stopped, and turned to give Edward a semi agitated
look. "What is it?" he growled, tightening his grip a bit on Edward's wrist. Edward winced a bit,
but he knew Sweeney was not angry at him somehow. Mr. Todd was upset about the portal
closing, and the fact that they had lost their targets. "There aren't very many alleys here…" he
pointed out, making it clear that they would not be able to enter the village without Edward
being extremely obvious. Sweeney took a quick look around and he seemed to become less
tense. He nodded in agreement. Placing a hand firmly on Edward's shoulder, he admitted, "You
are right, my friend. They will surely be able to see-". He paused and took another good look at
Edward's blades, which were reflecting the last rays of the dying sun. "Your… infirmity." he
concluded with some amount of sickening wickedness in his voice.
Ichabod coughed a bit nervously as he straightened himself up. "The widow Winship…
Was with child." another struggle with his stomach. Ichabod was nearly grinding his teeth. The
small group of men gasped and broke into a commotion of whispers. One of them stepped
forward. "A-And you s-still haven't managed to f-find the culprit, Mr. Crane?" he asked, fearful
of the answer. Ichabod sighed, thinking that these men would never understand just how
difficult and delicate his work was. "Sadly, no. The only thing which I could detect was that it
was an ax murder. But there are many axes of the same make as this one, so it is nearly
impossible to discover who it was." Ichabod stuffed his hands down into his coat pockets.
Hearing this, some of the men glared at him, others turned away, and with a few whispered
words sounding like "fraud" and "idiot", they left Ichabod alone upon the steps. Well, I might as
well head home, now. Ichabod began making his way down the white steps and down onto the
dirt road cutting its way all through the village.
"Maybe if we hurry from house to house, no one will see my hands." Edward lightly
suggested, expecting Sweeney to have some angry reaction. Edward braced himself, but all he
heard next was "Not a bad idea. Lets go.". Sweeney took him briskly, almost dodging from
house to house. Eventually, they made it to a street not far from the clinic, and the village
seemed devoid of people. It was getting dark, chilly even. "We'll need to find a place to stay."
Sweeney remarked, almost squinting around, trying to find something like maybe a church or
an empty cottage. The church was much too far off for them to make it without being seen. So
they stayed back, Sweeney trying to think of somewhere they might be able to run to, Edward
shivering from the cold and hoping it would be over soon. There came a crunching sound on the
dirt road. Edward took it upon himself to peek out from the side of the house where they were
hiding and he saw a man his own height with dark hair and pale skin, wearing a dark coat. He
had his arms wrapped around himself to defend against the chill and he seemed to be rushing
home.
"What if we follow him?" Edward half whispered, his eyes still following the man.
"Who?" Sweeney half barked, sort of pushing his way past Edward to get a look at the man
to whom he was referring. When he laid eyes on the figure down the way, Sweeney saw
someone who looked very much like himself, only younger. "I don't think we should follow him.
He might detect us and then what would we do?" Sweeney wondered aloud, rubbing the back
of his chin with his thumb. Too late. When Sweeney turned, he found Edward gone. "Edward?
Edward?" he called. That idiot! He must 'ave run off when I wasn't looking… he thought as he
darted around, checking around every corner, searching. Edward poked his head out from
around the back of a house a little further away down the street just in time for Sweeney to
catch sight of him. "You ingrate!" Sweeney whispered loudly on approaching Edward with a
mean glare. "Don't you realize you could have gotten lost?!" his true colors were beginning to
show through again, but he did not seem to notice.
Edward shivered a little, not knowing whether the question really required an answer.
His inventor had taught him that there existed some questions that did not need answering.
Sweeney, however, was holding him in a really tight grip, so his shaking was not highly visible,
but Sweeney could feel it. He let go of Edward and sighed. "If we are going to get through this,
if you want to be my apprentice, Edward, we are going to 'ave to work together." he scolded,
almost sounding like he was talking to a child. Then, he realized, Edward had not run off for no
reason. Edward had kept glancing at a two-story cottage just down the way where the door had
been left open, and the light on. "Were you trying to get to this 'ouse, Edward?" Sweeney
cocked an eyebrow, appearing interested. "Yes… That man just ran in there. I think it's his
house." Edward spoke gently, trying to smother his own fear of Sweeney's anger. Sweeney did
not like the sound of that, but it was the only open door within their vicinity. Trying to find
another would require going out into the open streets and exposing Edward.
"Alright. We'll take it." Sweeney smirked, thinking that if the man should make a scene,
he could easily be done away with using only a razor blade. Edward timidly followed after,
trying to keep his blades hidden as best he could, hoping no one would see them. The two of
them snuck stealthily in through the open door and looked around. All the lights, or rather,
candles and lanterns, were on, but no one seemed to be downstairs. In fact, there were
metallic and wooden sounds coming from the upstairs rooms which made Sweeney and Edward
dash behind the staircase. Ichabod was tinkering with some small apparatus comprised of glass
and metal, using it for some chemicals. He was just about ready to begin his experiments when
he realized he had forgotten the book that had the proper 'recipe' for this particular procedure.
"Huh… That's funny. I could have sworn that I brought the book up from my library." he almost
laughed at himself for having been so forgetful. His library was a slender bookshelf over by
which, Edward was hiding, back glued against the rear half of the staircase. Sweeney was just
on the other side. When the two of them heard boots coming down the stairs, Edward gasped a
little, and Sweeney began rubbing a thumb over the joint of one of his hidden blades.
The first thing Ichabod noticed on coming downstairs was that his door was open. He
went to close it and he observed that there were tracks in the grass close to his door. Someone
has entered my house! he gasped, almost echoing Edward and shut the door in haste. Jumpy
sort of fellow, isn't 'e? grinned Sweeney, watching the man start and then hurriedly close the
door. Back to the door, chest heaving, Ichabod's eyes quickly scanned from the kitchen to the
staircase, and from the staircase, to the fireplace. Something shadowy moved a bit over his
book shelf. "Ah! I… I mean… Come out with your hands where I can see them!" he demanded,
shivering heavily in place, almost biting a handkerchief he held close to his mouth. Sweeney
remained still- he knew he had not been detected yet. Edward, not being the kind of person to
remain in hiding once he had been called, for he had been taught that it was impolite not to
answer, came out from his hiding spot, looking very guilty.
"Ah! Wh-What are you?!" Ichabod's hand quickly found the doorknob, in case he
needed to run from such a creature. "I… I'm not finished…" Edward could barely speak. All this
commotion was making him clam up. "P-Put those down!" shouted Ichabod, thinking of
fleeing. Edward obeyed, dropped his hands and stood still, looking just as scared as the other
man did. "I repeat: What are you? Or who are you?" Ichabod almost stuttered in fear. "I don't
know." Edward replied shyly. Ichabod tensed up. This man might not even be a man at all if he
doesn't know what he is! "Do you have a n-name?" Ichabod tried to clarify his last question.
"Edward." came the simple reply. Somehow, this released some of the fear from Ichabod. At
least this… Whatever it was, was human enough inside to answer intelligently for two
questions. Such was the way of solving things in Sleepy Hollow. Which was why Ichabod had
been called upon. "Edward?" Ichabod echoed, approaching Edward with a curious look. "My
name is Crane. Ichabod Crane.". Edward happily extended a hand, but as to be expected,
Ichabod jerked back, trying to avoid getting cut. "Woah! Um… Those are your… hands?"
Ichabod questioned, now bending over slightly to get a better look.
Sweeney was now rubbing his forehead with his two forefingers, eyes closed. That
damn idiot! He's surely blown our cover, now! If this man 'as any sanity, he'll find me too and
turn us both in! he thought, extremely displeased now with Edward. "Fascinating!" exclaimed
Ichabod, apparently highly excited by this new find. He had again forgotten about the book he
came for, and was busy examining Edward's hands. Oh no… 'E's such a pushover! Sweeney
scowled, growing impatient now. A moment later, he could take it no longer. Ichabod jumped
as Sweeney emerged from the other side of the staircase, looking a bit defeated. "A-And wh-
who is this?" Ichabod looked at Edward, hoping he would know. "He's a friend…" Edward
started, but Sweeney interrupted him. "Todd. Mr. Sweeney Todd… of Fleet Street. I don't
suppose you know it?" he bowed his head a little, trying to seem cordial with his coldness.
Ichabod approached Sweeney, hands behind his back, hoping this was not another fellow with
blades for hands. "I don't believe I do, Mr. Todd. B-But-" he stammered, "I welcome you all the
same.". Ichabod was relieved when Sweeney held out a hand to discover that it was a
completely human hand. But when Ichabod shook hands with him, he could not help but notice
the sheer coldness compared to his own warm hands.
"Oh, you both must be freezing from the chill outside!" he gasped, having it dawn on
him that he had not shown any hospitality after realizing they were not a threat. "I might ask
you both where you came from, and why you came to Sleepy Hollow, but it's late." he said,
gesturing for the two of them to follow him upstairs. "Come. I've got some extra quilts upstairs.
You both may spend the night here, and w-we'll figure out what to d-do in the morning." with
this, Ichabod was already gone, into the room above. Edward gave Sweeney a look asking for
some kind of approval or admonition that seemed to shoot straight down into Sweeney's core.
"Oh! Alright, alright. We are staying the night 'ere! But we are leaving early tomorrow, do you
understand, Edward?" growled Sweeney, not knowing that deep down, something shattered
with that look. Edward nodded happily, grateful to have somewhere safe to stay for the night
and glad to have received some kind of approval from Sweeney. The two of them were soon
upstairs, and Ichabod, Edward, and Sweeney were all soon fast asleep in quilts.