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“What do you say, Brom?” I ask, tapping his leg with mine.
“Mmm?” he says, blinking. “That sounds like heaven. As long as we can eat on the bed, too.”
“No crumbs,” Crane grumbles as he stares down at Brom. “The only thing we’ll be eating is Kat, and possibly my—”
A blood-curdling scream fills the air, coming from outside.
Crane presses himself against the window as Brom and I spring out of bed.
“What is it?” I ask.
“I don’t know,” Crane says, eyes darting around the landscape.
He shoves off the window, grabs his coat and pulls out his boots, as Brom and I do the same. Then we hurry out of the room and into the hall. As we go down the wing toward the mezzanine, Crane pauses by an open door.
“Daniels?” Crane asks as he peers inside Professor Daniels’ room. There doesn’t seem to be anyone in there.
“I have a bad feeling about this,” Crane mutters and then quickens his pace as he strides to mezzanine and down the stairs.
We burst outside into a dark grey mist and out into the courtyard where a couple of students have gathered.
There, in the middle of it, surrounded by a pool of blood, is a man in his pajamas.
Missing a head.
“Oh hell,” I swear, covering my mouth in case I vomit, and turn around into Crane’s chest. For all that the horseman has done, this is the first time I’ve actually seen one of his victims after they’ve been killed, and I don’t think I have the stomach for it.
Crane puts an arm around me, holding me tight. “It’s Daniels. It’s Daniels,” he says over again, sounding as if he’s in shock. “The horseman killed Daniels.”
I raise my head to look up at Crane, thinking the same thing he is, and then we both look over at Brom.
“I didn’t do it,” Brom says, raising his hands, shaking his head vigorously. “I swear to God, I swear, I didn’t do it.”
“The horseman did,” Crane growls at him. “And you knew.”
“No!” Brom says adamantly. “I did not. The whole night you were with me, you saw me, I didn’t know what the horseman was doing, I don’t know where he went.” He gestures to Daniels’ lifeless body. “This is not my doing. I had nothing to do with this.”
The two other students nearby give Brom a curious look.
“Keep your voice down,” I hiss at him.
“You have to believe me,” Brom says, the anguish clearly visible in his dark eyes as he presses his palms together as if in prayer. “I didn’t know anything about this. This wasn’t me and I didn’t know. I didn’t know!”
Crane is breathing in deep through his nostrils, and I see the corner of his jaw flex, his pulse pounding at his throat, and I’m suddenly fearful of what he might do.
Then he lets go of me and marches towards Brom, whose fists clench in response.
Then Crane goes past Brom.
Heading in the direction of the cathedral.
“Where are you going?” I call out after Crane, gathering up my skirt and quickly running after him.
“I’m going to talk to the Sisters,” Crane yells over his shoulder. “This has gone on long enough. I should have done this a long time ago.”
“Crane!” Brom calls out, running alongside me. “Don’t draw attention to yourself!”
But it’s too late because as we pass the classroom building beside the herb garden, Sister Sophie suddenly steps out in front of us.
“Mr. Crane,” Sister Sophie says in a commanding voice, her hood down. “May I have a word with you?”
“No, I believe I’m going to have a word with you,” he says, pivoting toward her.
Sister Sophie nods and looks around her, then motions with her hand for us to follow her as she disappears into one of the stone buildings that house the classrooms.
We go inside the front doors, the hallway dark except for the faint morning light coming in through the windows, and Crane springs into action, grabbing Sister Sophie by the throat and slamming her back against the wall.
“Crane!” I yell at him to stop, but Sophie just gives him a faint smile.
“I understand your frustration, Mr. Crane,” she says, her voice sounding completely normal despite the fact that he’s strangling her. “And to see your anger come out is a beautiful thing indeed. But I don’t think you should kill me, if you know what’s best for you. I’m on your side, after all.”
“Crane, let her go,” Brom says in a gruff voice.
There’s fire in Crane’s eyes, not the usual inferno that I see in Brom’s black depths, but something that’s both white-hot and ice cold. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this way. It’s almost as if he’s impossible to reach.
But then Crane’s grip relaxes, and he lets go of Sophie. Her feet touch the floor, and it’s only then that I realize he had her dangling in the air.
