True North
It took most of the hour to get Santa’s bedroom cleaned up. Mike and Yuki had stacked the wet towels in an empty laundry basket by the fireplace before sitting down to eat the food left for them. Beneath the silver domes on the tray was a wonderful roast duck dinner with green beans and mashed potatoes on the side. A thermos full of hot apple cider had been provided, and the two of them ate in silence on the floor as they attempted to finish the meal before Mrs. Claus returned.
Occasionally, a loud banging could be felt throughout the house, but Mike had decided it would be better to stay put. He was already on her bad side, and didn’t have anything else to wear other than the pants she had given him. His clothes were lost in the cracks of reality, and he didn’t feel like wandering around the North Pole in just his pants.
Yuki kept flashing him sly smiles. Her upbeat demeanor was infectious, and he caught himself smiling in response. When they finished eating, she leaned against him and closed her eyes.
“Not bad for a first date, Caretaker.” She chuckled and put her hand against his chest. “Though I would have preferred somewhere with more dancing.”
“Oh, so we’re dating now?”
She giggled and turned her face away from him. “I’ll probably end up pregnant after what you did. We might have to get married.”
“What?” He sat up so suddenly that Yuki fell away from him, revealing the stupid grin on her face.
“Man, you’re so easy.” She laughed and patted her belly. “I can’t get pregnant unless I want to. For someone who likes to blow his load in every woman he fucks, you put very little thought into the potential consequences.”
He pressed his lips together and frowned. The thought had occurred to him more than once that he should really get his shit together regarding all the women he had sex with. “You’re not wrong,” he admitted.
“Maybe Christmas Present will give birth to all sorts of new holidays. Mike day, big dick day, Radl—ow!” She jerked away from him when he pinched her inner thigh.
“I should probably talk to Naia about birth control,” he admitted. “I’ve just taken it for granted that so many of you are either incompatible with me or can take care of it yourselves. That’s how I ended up with an egg and a little horse boy who hates me.”
Yuki sobered up at the mention of Callisto. “I don’t think he hates you,” she said, then sat up and adjusted her robes. “The centaurs aren’t stubborn because they’re taught to be. They really are just born that way. The herd are his people, and maybe it’s that you represent that part of him that’s always going to be different. He’s still a child and doesn’t fully appreciate that being different is a good thing.”
“I suppose so.” Mike looked at the door again, wondering where was Mrs. Claus. He had expected her to return in exactly an hour, but he had no way of knowing just how much time had passed.
“Should we leave?” she asked, noticing his gaze.
“No.” He looked back at her. “I suspect she’s still dealing with Kisa and hopefully Tink and Holly.” His familiar was thirty feet below him now, and he could sense her gratitude and contentment, which likely meant that Mrs. Claus was feeding her as well. He had tried to communicate a couple of times, but Kisa had been too distracted to sense him. “Telepathy would be really nice right about now,” he told her.
“Then maybe you should find a telepath to fuck.” She winked at him and stood. “So how does this work? Can you summon ice magic now?”
“Hmm?” Realizing that she was asking about his ability to swap souls, he shrugged. “Oh, right. No idea, it isn’t always obvious. Would be nice if it was.”
“I see.” She stretched and walked across the room. “Do you think visualizing magic was the trade off?”
“Can’t be. We hadn’t, um, finished yet.” He had told her about the weird tendrils he had seen. In fact, with a bit of concentration, he could see an aura surrounding Yuki. It sparkled like a diamond and changed colors depending on how she stood. “My best guess is that maybe it’s from Christmas Present.”
“Interesting.” She lowered her head in thought. “I guess it would make sense, sort of. Christmas Present can see everything that happens around Christmas day, all at the same time. Do you think that means you can only do it on Christmas?”
“No idea. Will probably experiment with it later when I don’t feel so burned out.” The meal and rest had refreshed him, but his body ached. Even though he had never run a marathon, he assumed how he felt now was comparable.
“Should probably put a condom on, first,” she replied. “In case you make yourself come again.”
“Ha ha, very funny. I’ll know better next time.” He shook his head at the memory of pulling his magic back inside of him. In hindsight, he should have known better. “Being turned into a cum fountain is a party trick I don’t feel like repeating.”
“Yeah, my sinuses are still out of whack from it.” She snorted for emphasis just as the door to their room opened. Mrs. Claus stood there with her hands on her hips, then walked inside for a look around. She said nothing for several moments as she inspected the room, then nodded.
“I suppose dessert is in order after all,” she declared, then looked at Mike. “Some friends of yours are here. Why don’t you grab a shirt from that closet and we can all meet in the kitchen to discuss what happens next.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He watched her leave, then let out a deep breath. Knowing that he was off of Mrs. Claus’ shit list was a huge relief.
The closet contained several long-sleeved white cotton shirts with buttons at the top. They were vastly oversized, but seeing no alternatives, he put one on. While adjusting the collar around his neck, the shirt shrank down until it became a perfect fit.
Had the pants done the same thing? He hadn’t even noticed while putting them on. Seeing a pair of slippers at the bottom of the closet, he put them on and waited. Unlike the clothes, the slippers didn’t seem to have any magical properties. They were maybe a size too big, but kept his bare feet off the floor.
“Not bad,” Yuki told him. “I imagine Santa can’t have someone adjusting his clothes on the fly every time he eats too many cookies.”
“The guy’s got all those elves, I just figured there’d be a whole division devoted to tailored clothes.” He tucked the shirt in and gestured to the door. “Shall we?”
They left the room and found Holly standing outside. The elf sighed in relief when she saw them.
“Kisa said you’d be here,” she said. “Though we were a little worried about what shape you’d be in. Mrs. Claus said you were fine, but she seemed upset.”
“I’d say it was just a misunderstanding, but we didn’t get off on the right foot. Our arrival was a bit…tumultuous.”
Holly nodded. “Ours, too. We crashed a reindeer through one of the skylights. The Krampus beat us here and was too preoccupied with banging on the front door to see our approach. Mrs. Claus wasn’t mad, though, she was pretty happy to see us.”
“Mike rode in on the ghost of Christmas Present,” Yuki offered. “I won’t bore you with the other details.”
“You saw the ghost?” Holly stopped and turned around to face them. “We met Christmas Past, but they were so damaged.”
“Christmas Present was on the fence, but Mike was very convincing.” Yuki winked.
“Oh, thank Santa.” Holly put her hands together and sighed in relief. “That is great news. What about the ghost of Christmas Future?”
“Uh…” Mike looked over at Yuki. “That’s one we haven’t dealt with yet.”
“Oh.” Holly took them to a spiral staircase carved out of wood. It wrapped tightly around a central column with decorations carved into it. He recognized a lot of the decor as pagan in nature, but didn’t know much else about it. “I hope he doesn’t show up here. He’s the scariest.”
“What does he look like?” Mike asked.
“Kind of like your friend, Death,” she replied. “Only way more intense. He sees everything that could happen to you, which is his gift. But seeing a near infinite number of futures every time he meets someone…we think it’s part of the reason he doesn’t talk. His mind is just so busy filtering information that he barely exists in the present.”
Mike frowned, wondering at the implications. How could he battle a foe capable of seeing the future? Were the spirits’ powers limited only to the time around Christmas? It was something that bore consideration.
At the bottom of the stairs was a doorway that opened into an enormous kitchen. Modern day stainless steel appliances clashed with the root-like structure of the room’s framing. If he didn’t know better, Mike would believe he was actually below a giant tree.
The large kitchen island was big enough to seat ten, but its only occupants were Kisa and Tink. Both of them jumped down from their seats and nearly knocked Mike over with their hugs.
“Asshole,” Kisa muttered. Tink didn’t bother with words. Instead, she bit his side through his shirt.
“I missed you, too.” He hugged them both affectionately. “I’m glad you’re safe.”
“Tink too smart for frosty bi—”
“AHEM!” This was from Mrs. Claus, who emerged from a nearby pantry with a large pie in her hands. “Language, dear.”
Tink scowled. “Tink want pie, tell husband later.”
Mike laughed, then followed them back to the counter. He took a seat and Tink scrambled onto the chair next to him. Kisa sat on the other side, leaving Holly and Yuki to sit on the edges.
“And here we go.” Mrs. Claus set the pie on the counter next to a knife. A stack of plates and forks had been set nearby, which Kisa passed out. The top of the pie was adorned with thick strips of crisply cooked dough, revealing a mixture of berries inside. “It’s been chilled already, so you don’t have to wait.”
Tink scooped up the knife and deftly sliced it into five equal pieces.
“I don’t know that I can eat that much pie,” Mike told her as she used a fork to remove the first piece.
“Husband make room. Best pie ever.” Tink placed the pie on Mike’s plate. “Everything nice woman makes tastes so good.”
“I’ve got plenty of practice,” Mrs. Claus admitted with a smile. “There isn’t a whole lot else I get to do up here.” She opened her mouth to say something else, but was interrupted by a loud banging sound from above.
“What is that?” Mike asked.
“That would be the Krampus. He is very upset that you all are here.” She leaned forward, the low cut apron revealing a ton of cleavage. It looked more like something a sexy maid would wear. “But he doesn’t dare come inside.”
“Why is that?” Mike asked. He waited for Tink to finish splitting up the pie, then took a bite. The crust was buttery and melted on his tongue, and the berries were a type he’d never had before. They started tart, then turned sweet in his mouth. “This is really good,” he admitted.
“Thank you. As to the Krampus…” She sighed and pulled off her apron. Mike couldn’t help but notice that the flimsy garment expanded in her hands once it was off her body into something that looked a lot more functional. “I can’t explain it fully in present company. The information is quite sensitive.”
“There’s nothing you can tell me that they can’t hear,” he said, though he didn’t know if that was true about Holly. “They’re family. I trust them.”
“And I will trust your judgment when it comes to what you’ll share with whom later,” she said. “This will make far more sense once you hear what I have to say.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” He swatted Tink’s fork away from his plate. “You’re not even done eating your own piece.”
Tink hissed at him, then went back to her own plate. She tried to sneak a piece off of Yuki’s plate, but the kitsune burned the goblin’s hand with purple foxfire.
“You are a hungry thing,” Mrs. Claus noted. “You ate three helpings of dinner and still have room!”
“Goblins hate cold,” Tink replied between bites of her food. “Eat big meal, sleep all winter. Tink no time for sleep, but still want to eat. Get big butt for husband.”
“More cushion for the pushin’,” whispered Kisa so that only Mike heard her. He pinched her beneath the counter, causing her to bump Holly.
Mrs. Claus nodded, then slid Tink a plate of cookies that were hidden below the counter. “When you’re done with your pie, you can have some of these.”
“No!” Both Kisa and Holly yelled, then looked at each other.
“Just…not cookies,” Kisa added. “She ate them until she was sick.”
Tink had already hooked a claw into the plate and dragged it toward her. “Nice woman’s cookies way better than stupid devil cookies.”
“Devil cookies?” Mrs. Claus leaned on the counter, her breasts nearly spilling out of her nightie. Mike kept his focus on what was left of his pie.
“The Krampus was making gingerbread devils.” This came from Holly. “It’s what he had the dark elves making.”
“Tink eat devil cookie. Taste like pepper and ashes.” The goblin stuck her tongue out for emphasis. “Spit out right away.”
“Hmm. That makes sense, I suppose. It’s probably how he subverted the reindeer.” Mrs. Claus stood and adjusted her lingerie. One of her nipples slipped free and she frowned before hiding it. “We’re very lucky that Dancer noticed them in her feed. They must have some other purpose, though.”
“I have to ask…what’s with the lingerie?” Yuki leaned forward eagerly. Mike silently blessed her for asking, because he had been afraid to.
“An unintended feature of Christmas day,” Mrs. Claus grumbled. “The rest of the year, I get to be the happy homemaker. Baking, playing games with elves, spending time with my husband. But right before Christmas, it begins. The lingerie sales, the sexy role-playing by couples. Right now, the world has thousands of women dressed like this pretending to be me and my only saving grace is that Mrs. Claus is largely seen as faithful to her husband. Otherwise, I would be an absolute mess right now.”
“Is that why your apron looks different now?” Mike asked. “I saw it change when you took it off.”
“Good eye for detail. You’ll need it.” She tugged at the straps of her nightie. “This is actually a very comfortable sweater. Unless I go outside, anything I wear becomes like this.”
“Why outside?” Kisa asked.
“Because everyone knows that I would freeze to death without a good coat,” Mrs. Claus said. “While indoors, I am seen as the loyal wife, waiting to adore my husband with a slew of sexual favors when he returns. Outside? I’m clearly busy helping get ready for Christmas.”
“And the magic just keeps track of that for you?” Mike asked.
Mrs. Claus nodded. “It does. Sometimes the changes aren’t obvious right away, but I can always tell when a lingerie company launches their new Christmas collection. I have more to say about that, but it will have to wait.” She lifted a thermos from beneath the counter. “Hot cocoa, anyone?”
They sat and finished their pie while catching up on all that had transpired. The hot cocoa warmed Mike from the inside and the soreness in his muscles faded away. He wondered if the cocoa itself had some restorative properties, because he felt almost good as new. However, he could definitely use a shower.
Tink finished off her pie, what was left of Kisa’s pie, and a plate of cookies. Patting herself on the belly, she pushed her stool against Mike’s and leaned her head on his arm. It wasn’t long before she snored softly in his embrace.
With the food finished, the group moved out into the main room while Holly left to do the dishes for Mrs. Claus. A massive fireplace sat at the center of the room with flames visible from every side. The chimney rose through the middle of the room only to vanish several stories up. Bookshelves lined the walls of this floor, and a cursory inspection revealed that most of the books weren’t Christmas related at all. It looked like Santa or his wife were huge Tom Clancy fans, but the bulk of the collection was Young Adult fiction, though there were some scattered romance collections.
Next to the fireplace was a large loveseat and the biggest recliner Mike had ever seen. He set Tink on the recliner and covered her up with a blanket. Kisa pulled a book from one of the shelves and curled up next to the goblin. Tink belched, and Kisa made a face.
“Seriously,” she said, her eyes watering. “Stop letting her eat sweets. That smells awful.”
“It’s Christmas day, sweetie.” Mrs. Claus handed Kisa a mug of cocoa and a sandwich. Mike had no idea when the woman made it. “You really should eat more, you’re far too skinny.”
“But I…” Kisa inspected the sandwich and sighed. “Yes, ma’am.”
“You, too.” Mrs. Claus picked up a platter of sweets that had been sitting on an end table and handed them to Yuki. “Whatever you don’t eat is going to Dancer, so don’t feel too obligated.”
“How come she gets cocoa and a sandwich while I get more cookies?” Yuki asked.
“She rescued a reindeer. You ruined my bedroom.” Mrs. Claus patted Yuki’s head condescendingly then looked at Mike. “Shall we, dear?”
He nodded, doing his best to avoid eye contact with Yuki. The kitsune pouted, but still grabbed a handful of cookies to eat.
They walked to a locked door along the far wall that Mrs. Claus opened with a golden key. Behind the door was a stone staircase that spiraled down, and she picked up a lantern hanging from a hook by the door. It ignited by itself, casting a warm glow over the stairs.
“Where are we going?” he asked.
Mrs. Claus smiled and shut the door behind them. “You’ll see. This is perhaps the most important place in the North Pole. Follow me.”
The stairs were long enough for Mike to dread the inevitable climb back up. It also didn’t help that the narrow steps had him turning his feet, which made the oversized slippers shift as if they were going to fall off. Clearly whoever was in charge of Santa’s magical wardrobe had taken the day off when it came to footwear.
Several more minutes passed before they came to the bottom. Mrs. Claus paused before a pair of thick wooden doors held together with iron casings. She turned to face Mike, her features suddenly hard.
“Of the many things I show and tell you, the contents of this room must remain a secret from your friends.” She placed a hand hesitantly on one of the large rings. Mike watched as silver and red tendrils wafted from the door and curled around her, then flashed out of existence. Mrs. Claus didn’t seem to notice.
“I can’t guarantee that,” he told her. “Not without knowing what’s inside.”
She smirked. “I don’t think you understand. You aren’t being given a choice in the matter. Much like your beloved geas, the protective magic of this place has rules. Outside this room, the North Pole is built by the love and beliefs of children. Naturally, this effect extends to their adult counterparts, hence my current predicament.” She fidgeted with the lace along her collar. “But this room? This is the center of it all, unaffected by whatever happens out there. We have many things to discuss, but nary a word about this place in particular shall ever slip past your lips. Should someone read your mind, the memory of this place shall drift away from you like a dream until their presence is gone.”
Mike regarded Mrs. Claus. “If this room is so important, then why show it to me?”
“If my husband wasn’t on the verge of dissolution, we wouldn’t even be having this conversation.” She pulled on one of the rings, and Mike’s ears popped. He rubbed at them while both doors opened simultaneously as if by magic. Golden light streamed from the room, and he followed her inside, squinting in an attempt to make anything out.
The light vanished, and he found himself standing at the bottom of a large metallic cylinder that stretched nearly a hundred feet into the air in the center of a gigantic room. Adorned with red, gold, and silver ribbon in a spiraling pattern, the cylinder was topped with a sphere made of light that pulsed gently.
“What am I looking at?” Mike noticed that a structure had been built at the base of the cylinder. Moving closer, he saw that it was a circle with numbers along the edge that counted up to three hundred and sixty.
“Welcome to the North Pole, Caretaker.” Mrs. Claus shut the door behind them and hung her lantern on a nearby hook. The glow from the lantern expanded dramatically, revealing that the room containing the cylinder was spherical in shape. Several floors overlooked the center of the room, and he could see bookshelves, workbenches, and a ton of tools lying about. Everything looked old, as if he had stepped into a forgotten museum.
“Wow.” Mike walked toward the pole, but Mrs. Claus grabbed him by the hand.
“No closer,” she warned just as the sphere of light on top of the pole expanded. It swallowed most of the empty space in the room and formed into a replica of the Earth that spun around the cylinder. Green and red lights danced along the surface of the sphere, stretching all the way down to the South Pole. All along the planet, sparkling lights dotted the landscape.
“So this is where you can see everything,” he said, then found a nearby stool to sit on. A sparkling light hovered over the east coast of Russia drew his attention. “What’s that?”
“It’s the sleigh. I have no idea what it’s doing there, but am under the impression that someone is using it to deliver toys. Look.” She pointed at the base of the North Pole, which looked as if it had filled with fluid along the outside. “When those gifts get delivered, it replenishes the magic used to allow Santa to move around outside of time. The spell itself is incredibly powerful, it took Santa over a century to unlock its true potential. I was originally thinking of retrieving the sleigh and hiding it here, but the Krampus likely wants it for his own nefarious purpose. If they are delivering presents, it may be best to let them continue doing so.”
Mike nodded. It was clear that the Krampus had some sort of plan, but they didn’t know what. Maybe that was something worth looking into. If they could figure out what the demon was going to do, it might give them insight into how they could stop him.
“You should know that I have sent Christmas Present and Dancer to assist with protecting the sleigh. It looks like they are almost there.” Mrs. Claus pointed to a pair of lights that were moving toward the sleigh. “I’m not sure why they left the safety of your home, but that’s something we can worry about later.”
“I’m sure Lily will be thrilled for the extra help, especially because I bet that Death conned her into it.” He pictured her reaction to the amazonian spirit and grinned. “Death will be upset that Santa himself didn’t show up.”
“Perhaps.” Mrs. Claus found a seat of her own and sat next to him. “This is where everything began. For Saint Nicholaus, anyway. You see, once upon a time, he was called to the bitter cold of the north. The trip nearly killed him, but the call was strong. He found a doorway buried in the snow and it brought him here.”
“Who built this place?” he asked.
“The Architect. It was the last of its kind that was built, but the first one of its kind on Earth.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” Mike said, turning toward her, his mind racing. Was this place part of the Great Game? “From what I understand, my house was built maybe two centuries ago and Santa has been around way longer. There’s no way this place was created last.”
She laughed, her eyes actually twinkling in the lights of the magical globe. “Oh, I guarantee it was. You see, the Architect didn’t get their title because they could design magical homes that are merely larger on the inside. This place was their magnum opus, the hardest of them all to build. Woven together out of stone, wood, and the very fabric of time itself, it sent itself back centuries once it was completed. Honestly, I wouldn’t think about it too much. Anyway, the spot we now sit is where Saint Nicholas met the First Elf.”
“The First Elf? Who was that?”
“The guardian of this place, much like your beloved nymph.” Mrs. Claus smiled. “When you became a player in the game, they called you Caretaker. And when my husband joined, they called him Claus.”
Mike felt the breath leave his body. “Santa is part of the Great Game? I have so many questions!”
Mrs. Claus frowned. “I’m afraid that I can’t tell you too much about the game itself. There are certain rules that have to be followed when it comes to the game’s secrets.”
“But players don’t have to follow those rules, right?” He remembered the shadow’s claim about players in the game speaking with each other on a regular basis. “Santa can tell me whatever I need to know once I find him, right?”
She shook her head and took his hand. When she squeezed, he realized just how cold her fingers were. Looking up into her eyes, he saw that she looked older than he remembered. Was it a trick of the light, or…
“If he was still a player, then yes. But he died a long time ago.”
Confused, Mike pulled his hand from hers. “But aren’t we here to save him from the Krampus?”
Mrs. Claus took a deep breath and looked at the North Pole inside of the hovering globe made of light. With a heavy sigh, she patted Mike on the leg and tilted her head in his direction to look over the top of her glasses at him.
“Immortality comes with a price, my child. Allow me to share with you the price my husband paid so many years ago.” She turned to face him, straightening the hem of her nightie. “I’ve heard that a nymph awaited you when you moved into your home. When Nicholas first came to the North Pole, he found a very different creature waiting down here for him. We call it the First Elf, but only as a sign of respect. You see, it was definitely not an elf. In fact, it wasn’t even of this world.”
“Was it the Krampus?” Mike asked, suddenly breathless.
“What? No. You’re getting ahead of yourself, stop that.” She dismissed further questions with a wave of her hand. “It was a being from outside time and space, an amorphic entity that had been chained here to protect the most powerful property devised by the Architect. To look upon it was to risk madness, and if not for my husband’s sturdy resolve, it would have consumed him.”
“Wait, you mean…” Mike held his hands up in apology. “Sorry, please continue.”
There was a twinkle in the older woman’s eye as she nodded.
“This time, I believe your guess is right,” she told him. “They’ve been called many things over the years, these cosmic entities. Ancient ones, eldritch beings, abominations, doesn’t matter. The guardian of this place was the only thing capable of protecting it, and my husband accomplished the impossible.”
Mike almost asked if Santa fucked it, but knew better.
“They became best friends, as close as brothers,” Mrs. Claus said wistfully, her eyes back on the map of the Earth. “And that’s where all this trouble started.”
---
The mirror room was hidden deep beneath the Workshop at the end of a long stone tunnel. Glyphs came to life and burned with harmless flames as Jack hovered down the long hallway, her arms wrapped around her stomach. The trip was always disorienting, but she had no idea why. Nausea, dizziness, and even a touch of vertigo assailed her senses until she entered the room where the mirror was stored.
Santa was waiting for her, his hands pressed against the glass. He smiled as if happy to see her.
“Quit the bullshit,” she told him. The silver frame of the mirror melded into the marble floor, making it look like the mirror had sprouted up from the ground. The room had a harmless fog that clung to the circular walls. It would sometimes descend and cover the floor, but it stayed away from Jack, as if afraid. “There’s no way you’re happy to see me.”
Santa shrugged, then took his hands off the glass. He didn’t say anything to her, nor did he attempt to. Instead, he pulled a seat from somewhere outside of the mirror’s edge and set it down. With a wink, he sat in the chair and patted his knee, as if to invite Jack to sit and tell him what she wanted for Christmas.
She ignored him, pacing the room as she gathered her thoughts. She had come down here when the Krampus had been trapped inside the mirror, the demon speaking to her telepathically. Back then, the room had felt ominous, like a prison. The fog was constantly drifting across the mirror, sometimes obscuring the Krampus as he pressed himself against the glass.
It was here that the Krampus had given her the recipe for the potion she had given to Santa. Grýla had provided her the ingredients, gathered by her kin and the Yule Cat. It had been a simple matter to get one of the elves to slip it to him, but Jack didn’t see what happened next. The Krampus had assured her that it would weaken Santa enough that the demon could escape, but that was all she knew.
“So do you have anything to say for yourself?” Jack moved in front of the mirror and frowned. Santa just shook his head. “Really? The Krampus has taken over the North Pole, subjected your elves, corrupted your reindeer. It’s only a matter of time before he…does whatever it is he needs to do to your wife. Christmas belongs to him now, which means you’re done, gone, finished! And you really have nothing to say?”
Santa shrugged, then pulled a flask from beneath his beard. Those white, cotton curls of his twisted about briefly, as if they had a life of their own. Santa took a swig from the flask, which Jack assumed was eggnog. He licked his lips and held the flask toward Jack.
“You’re inside of a mirror,” she told him, stepping toward him. “Even if I wanted some, I couldn’t take it.”
Santa scooted his chair closer to the glass and held the eggnog out again. Jack squinted her eyes at him, suddenly wondering why she had even come down here. It had originally been to speak with Santa, to maybe come to terms with the things she had done, or maybe figure out what it was she was supposed to do next. The humans were fond of the term ‘digging your own grave,’ and she felt like she only now truly understood the implications.
“Why do you act like you don’t care?” When she spoke, her breath billowed out from her in a fog. “He took everything from you. I helped him. Do you know that? I’m the reason why you’re in there and he’s out here.”
Santa wiggled the eggnog and raised an eyebrow. He didn’t look disturbed in the slightest, that fat, jolly bastard. It was starting to snow in the mirror room, and frost formed along the edges of the mirror, causing it to blend in with the background.
“That’s it, isn’t it? You knew this would happen, and you didn’t care.” Jack shook her head violently, her hair bobbing along her shoulders. “I’ve always wondered, you know? Always so carefree, nothing ever rattled you. It’s why the Krampus needed me. He said that you wouldn’t be able to see into my mind, but now I wonder if you wanted this, if you knew what I was up to.”
Santa nodded.
“Seriously? What the fuck?!?” Jack stepped toward the mirror and slapped her palms against the glass. “You knew this would happen and you didn’t try to stop it? Your elves are suffering up there right now. Why would you abandon them? He’s taking Christmas from them, taking it from all the children in the world, and you just let him have it? How could you do this to them?”
Angry, she slammed her fist against the glass, suddenly aware of how warm it felt. Letting out a howl of rage, she tried to smash the mirror with her fists, surprised at its strength. Determined, she landed on the ground and punched the glass as hard as she could, then screamed in rage when it didn’t shatter.
“What is wrong with you?” she cried as she struck the glass over and over. “You knew they would suffer. You knew I would suffer! Why would you let something like this happen!” Groaning, she pressed her forehead against the glass, frozen tears shattering on the hard ground below her.
The breath was stolen from her body as a warm surge shot through her feet. She tried to move, but her body was held in place by an energy that vibrated through her body, and she struggled to free herself.
“What are you doing? You tricked me!” She yanked her body away from the mirror and fell backward onto her butt. “You asshole, I’m glad you’re trapped in there! I hope you rot and that the Krampus fucks your—”
Santa was no longer in the mirror. In his place, a woman now stood. She was taller than Jack with much fuller features. Her brow was adorned with a simple gold crown, and thick auburn curls fell across broad shoulders atop a full figure. Around her throat was a necklace made of gold and inlaid with amber. A solitary gemstone in the middle pulsed with light, calling attention to an impressive amount of cleavage.
The woman lifted her head to look down her nose at Jack.
She wore a simple dressing gown, as if she had just been awoken. There was a fierceness to her that was both familiar and a little frightening.
“Who…who are you?” Jack put her hand against the glass and was surprised when the woman did the same. There was a judgment in the woman’s gaze that Jack didn’t like, followed by pain in the back of her skull. Groaning, she stepped away from the mirror and rubbed her eyes, expecting to see Santa once more.
The woman remained, her arms crossed as if waiting for Jack to do something.
“Where’s Santa? What do you want?” Frustrated, Jack moved toward the glass, but fell down when the pain returned. Images poured into her mind, confusing scenes of summertime and swimming in the ocean. There were moments with family, scenes of war, and long nights with a man covered in scars.
“Stop. Stop it!” She cast her hand out, summoning a powerful frost that crawled across the mirror, blocking her view. In agony, Jack tried to fly out of the room but crashed into the fog-covered wall instead.
“No. No!” Stumbling in panic, she eventually found the exit and rocketed down the hallway, crashing against the walls while the images chased her. Anger, grief, and mourning flooded her mind as she flew through the long hallways of the Workshop, eventually bursting through the large wooden doors and disappearing into the blizzard outside.
Even there, the images found her. It felt like someone else was inside her mind, shoving memories into place. She remembered the sea, riding pigs, fighting a witch. All she could do was howl along with the wind as she was filled with scattered thoughts.
Who are you? The voice in her head demanded an answer, and she somehow knew it was the woman from the mirror. The tone was commanding, and Jack clutched her head and cried out in shock. Where are we? What’s happened to us?
“Us?” Jack blinked, her eyes unseeing in the storm. It was a whiteout, a moment when all the available light was gobbled up by the fury of the storm.
Yes, us. Her tone was derisive. Where is this place?
Jack pressed her hands into her temples so hard that her knuckles cracked. Her whole body was encased in frost as she willed the cold into her head in an effort to drive out the intruder. The cold permeated her being as her temperature dropped, well below freezing.
“Get out of my head,” she whispered, her limbs becoming stiff as ice crawled along the outside of her flesh. It wasn’t until she flew above the storm that the commanding voice finally vanished, leaving her alone beneath the Northern Lights with her thoughts.
She gazed at the hovering lights as they clung to the stratosphere like melting wax. It felt like they were watching her, and she didn’t know why.
“What’s happening to me?” she whispered, the storm beneath her slowly burying the North Pole.
---
Mike stared at the North Pole, his mind whirring. Mrs. Claus had told him the whole story about how Nicholas and the First Elf met, and how the two of them had become essentially inseparable.
When he and Naia had first met, she had swapped a part of her soul with a piece of his. This had enabled her to grant him a small portion of her power and to bind the house to him. He had become the Caretaker that day, not knowing that he had also become part of a mysterious game that played in the background of his everyday life. With Naia being a nymph, it was natural that the two of them had become lovers as well. It was the foundation for his magic, one that persisted to this day.
The being lying in wait had been some type of an elder god, one captured and tamed by the Architect. It didn’t have emotions or thoughts comprehensible by mortals. Its primary instruction had been to bond with the first worthy soul who came to the North Pole. Nicholas had been worthy enough, and his desire to create toys for children and bring happiness to families had been enough to shape the creature into the First Elf.
When Mike died, someone else would inherit the house. It was supposed to be Beth or Dana, but they wouldn’t know until it actually happened. There was no plan for permanence, nor did he desire immortality like his predecessor. He had gotten a peek of the other side, and knew that someone would be waiting there when his time was up.
To a creature with no beginning or end, like the First Elf, death was simply an obstacle to be surmounted.
“So when Saint Nicholas died, the First Elf brought him here and they…what, combined? Merged?”
Mrs. Claus shrugged. “I don’t know that there’s a proper word for it. The corpse of Saint Nicholas was reanimated using the body of the First Elf. That was how Santa Claus the legend was born. By doing this, he was both player and guardian, and therefore neither. He never had aspirations for the game itself and chose to ignore the others unless they started trouble. But he was officially the first player to find a way to stand outside the game by becoming one of the pieces inside it.”
“Fitting, considering the First Elf’s origin.” He thought back to falling into Baba Yaga’s trap, to the chunk of missing time while trying to destroy the piece of an ancient one. Dana had encountered one in the flesh and been tossed back in time by a week. They were powerful beings, impossible to understand. “So what happened next?”
Mrs. Claus sighed. “That’s when Santa became bound by the rules. He was a mortal soul in an immortal body. Stories of the First Elf had persisted, but now tales of little helpers caused the first generation of elves to appear here. They were sloppy and inefficient, but that human part of him was able to tweak the details. As more people believed, his powers grew.”
“So all the elves are clones of him or something?”
Mrs. Claus shook her head. “It would be easier to think of them as nail clippings, or beard stubble. In fact, I save the trimmings from his yearly haircut in a box in the closet, then plant them outside when the sun rises in the summer. Each year, those tiny pieces of him grow into new elves to replace those we’ve lost in the Workshop. Some die of natural causes, others…” She shook her head. “Accidents happen, I’m afraid.”
“Since they used to be part of him, is that why they’re so susceptible to…well, everything?”
“That is exactly correct. We call it naughty sickness, but it isn’t just naughty behavior.” She tugged at the nightie, which looked shorter than it used to. “Every living being up here at the North Pole is part of Santa.”
“Wait, that would mean you…” He looked at the North Pole, then back at Mrs. Claus. “You’re a part of him?”
She nodded. “I was born into this world as an old woman, ready to serve the whims of my husband. My sense of self is defined by how I am seen. The lingerie is annoying, but I don’t mind how much younger I look these days.” She patted her cheeks. “When I was first created, I was in my nineties and very wrinkly.”
He agreed with her assessment, but knew to keep his thoughts to himself.
“So does that mean that the Krampus is also part of Santa?”
Mrs. Claus made a contemplative face, then stood. “Come. I want to show you something.”
Curious, he rose and followed her. They walked around the perimeter of the room until they were on the other side of the pole. The walls were covered with thick shelves full of tools, and Mrs. Claus stuck her arm in a gap between a pair of columns. There was an audible click, and she grabbed onto the edge of a shelf.
“Help me,” she said, then pulled. Mike grabbed the edge and helped, which caused the entire shelf to open like a giant door. Behind it was a cavern carved into the ground, and Mike summoned a pair of spiders to light the way.
“Allow me,” he said, sending the spiders forward.
“That’s not something I’ve seen before.” She chuckled and took him by the hand. There was a special warmth in the way she held his fingers, and the memory of his mother reading to him surfaced yet again. Was this what a mother’s love felt like? It wasn’t something he knew as an adult, and he wasn’t surprised by how he craved it. “Mind your step, it’s been ages since anyone has come down here.”
They walked together while the temperature plummeted. At some point, Mrs. Claus’ lingerie thickened into a sweater dress with leggings, and finally turned into a coat. Mike was already getting cold, and hoped that they were almost at their destination.
The cave widened into a massive cavern with soot lined walls and giant stalactites. Patches of ice on the walls glistened in the soft glow of the spiders, but Mike’s attention was on what he had assumed were piles of rubble on the ground.
They were bones. Massive piles, over ten feet high and scattered wide. The skull he was looking at was easily four feet tall.
“When Santa Claus was born, it sent a ripple out into the world.” Mrs. Claus pulled off the scarf that had appeared on her body and wrapped it around Mike’s neck. “You see, it was already difficult enough for Nicholas and the First Elf to fight off the local cryptids, but when word got around that Nicholas had died, everyone thought it was fair game. Others like you came to meet with him, thinking he had unlocked a new portion of the game.”
“Had he?” Mike asked.
Mrs. Claus shrugged. “If so, he never mentioned it to me. All he’s ever wanted was to bring joy on Christmas day, so that’s what he became. Most of the other players decided there was nothing of value to them, so didn’t pursue the issue. Some of them, though, decided that it was time to add the North Pole to their collection. Bloody wars were fought on the arctic tundra, and the elves even became warriors for a time. Santa himself became quite fierce during those battles, but a new problem surfaced.”
“He’s Santa.” Mike broke away from Mrs. Claus to inspect one of the bone piles. “He’s not meant to be a warrior.”
“Correct. Each battle was changing him, and not for the better. You see, he may have become something new and vastly different, but still had a very human soul. Where the First Elf saw these incursions as an annoyance, Nicholas took them personally. A side of him emerged during these fights that was both terrible and frightening, a true demon in every sense of the word. But it wasn’t until someone sent the last remaining frost giants here that he finally succumbed to his inner darkness.”
Mike shivered, thinking back to his own brush with power. Some nights, he would dream about having Leeds pinned beneath his body, feeling that rush of destructive power hovering over both of them, just begging to be released.
He flexed his right hand, feeling the slight twinge in his forearm as his muscles flexed. If that magic had been capable of transforming him, what would he have become?
“So I’m guessing this is the reason the Krampus was created, then.” He waved his hand out at the frozen remains. “To be the warrior that Santa couldn’t be, to fight all these assholes.”
“You’re so close, Caretaker, yet so far. In matters of magic, even a kernel of untruth can become your undoing.” Mrs. Claus moved to his side and took him by the hand. When he turned to face her, he could see shimmering tears hiding in her eyes.
“This is indeed the birthplace of the Krampus,” she told him. “And when he came into this world, he was a force to be reckoned with. But he was not created by the belief of a child, nor on a whim. A very human soul still resides at the core of my dear husband, and a piece of that soul is in myself, the elves, and anything else that has been created here. The Krampus is a being made of that darkness that resides in all of us, and that darkness can only surface when a good man is pushed past his breaking point.”
Mike puzzled over her words, still stuck on what she meant that he was wrong. If everyone else was just a part of Santa, then that would mean that the Krampus himself was no different from them. Yet Mrs. Claus kept making the point that he wasn’t like the others, which made no sense.
Unless…
He looked at the nearby bones, and could easily make out the claw marks in them. Or maybe they were bite marks? He couldn’t be sure. In fact, what he had taken for ice now appeared to be a pebbled gray flesh that clung to the bones of the dead. These things hadn’t been a part of Santa, that was for sure.
“Wait.” Understanding dawned on him and he turned back toward Mrs. Claus, his mouth open in shock. “He’s…”
Mrs. Claus nodded. “The Krampus isn’t some stray piece of Santa, created to fight his battles. Here, in this place, he emerged from within, and waged a bloody campaign almost completely by himself. Only a few of his elves survived to pass along the truth, but they were all sworn to secrecy. I share it with you now in the hopes that you can somehow do the impossible.”
Mike’s mouth dried out, and he imagined he looked like a fish out of water. It was hard to reconcile the truth with what he currently knew, but he was no stranger to the darkness within. Understanding how it happened didn’t help with the actual problem at hand.
Santa and the Krampus were the same person, and Mike had no idea how to fix it.
---
The sleigh was flying over Vladivostok, Russia, when Lily awoke. She had fallen asleep somewhere over the ocean, and assumed they were in Vladivostok, anyway. She hadn’t visited in almost a hundred years, so it looked different. However, it had been the next big destination on the list. Wiping drool from her lips, she contemplated the city below. Many of the buildings were dark, but there were still lights on in plenty of apartments.
Looking over at Death, she saw that the reaper was contemplating her with a finger on his chin.
“Not a word to anyone,” she demanded, then adjusted her hat. Ever since she had started falling asleep and having dreams, she had been determined to keep it a secret. It wasn’t so much that she was worried the others would think less of her. Instead, it was the fear of discovery, of everyone knowing a tiny piece of Mike’s soul lived within her.
Sure, the others had a similar situation, but hers was special. She was a demon, darned to all eternity. What if they decided that she wasn’t a hospitable host for it? Would they try to take it away from her? What if Naia asked her to return it? The succubus wasn’t even certain if she could, but since the nymph was technically one of her masters, she would have to make the attempt.
Losing that piece of Mike would devastate her, she could admit that. She didn’t begrudge him for having so many people in his life. In fact, it made her happy. He had surrounded himself with people who not only loved him for who he was, but treated each other as family. Lily had more friends right now than the rest of her centuries combined. Even though she often pushed them away, they were always ready to embrace and accept her when she returned.
With Mike central to the family, it meant he didn’t always have time to spend with everyone. Lily could spend all the time she wanted with that piece of him. It meant that as long as he lived, she would never have to be alone.
“That sounds like a pretty big favor,” Death replied. “Maybe I shall add it to the list. I’ve been doing all the deliveries for the last nine hours.”
“Fudge your favors, how many do you still owe me?” The trip to William’s house hadn’t been the last time she had played Santa. By her current count, she had done so at over a hundred houses. Some were easy, like the little girl in China who wanted Santa to read her a book. Others had been harder, and her belly was full of more than a couple of souls as a result. Some children had problems that only a dead adult could fix, and that was a gift she would gladly deliver.
“One hundred and forty two,” Death informed her. “Since you have banked so many, I believe I will count this as two favors.”
“Ugh, suck my stocking.” She adjusted her hat. The darned thing couldn’t be removed, but was easy enough to reposition. Her hips bumped Tick Tock, still disguised as a large gift. “Maybe the toaster should start helping.”
“He is too shy.” Death patted the box. “And I’m worried about how many cookies I’ve fed him. Cerberus stopped eating them a while ago, and they are much larger than Tick Tock.”
“This one could close down a buffet.” She knocked on the side of the box. “You sure you don’t wanna help?”
A tiny hand popped free from beneath the ribbon on top. It had three fingers, two of which folded in to leave just the middle remaining.
“Sassy little appliance.” She smacked the box, then stood and yawned. “But a deal’s a deal. How does the workload look for here?”
“Another day, another dollar.” Santa Death held up the list. “It would appear that we have no personal visits to make, so you won’t have to worry about how big your butt gets.”
“Ha ha,” she replied sarcastically. During one of her Santa stops, she had complained that her bottom might get stuck because of how many times she made it bigger. She often forgot how literal Death could be. “Now give me my darned cocoa.”
Death held out the thermos. “I daresay that this trip would be intolerable without this delightful beverage. I may demand the recipe when we finally meet Santa.”
“Yeah, about that. I’m fairly certain the big guy is dead.”
Death nearly dropped the thermos. “How dare you!”
“Look, I’m not trying to be that person, but we’ve been out here, what? Two, maybe three weeks? If Mike and everyone else had gotten things sorted, don’t you think the big guy would be here already?”
“For your information, it’s been roughly three months.”
“Three fudging months?” Lily stood, nearly toppling over the edge of the sleigh. It rocked back and forth, causing Cerberus to look back at them.
“I started counting the seconds once we left. In fact, I started counting once I learned how to! It’s quite remarkable, really, hearing all these different numbers in my head. I hope to hear them all some day. My favorite numbers have fours in them.”
She grabbed Death by the beard and pulled him close to her face. “How is three months even possible? There’s no way it’s…” Her brain felt like it was unraveling as she pondered the time spent in the sleigh. It was no different than the time compression in the Dreamscape, only reversed. What had felt like no more than a couple of weeks was now expanding in her mind, filling in the gaps where very little had happened.
There was also the possibility that Death was not a reliable time keeper.
“Indeed. Frankly, I am more than a little concerned.” Death poured some cocoa out for Lily, then handed her a cup. “Surely Mike Radley will be worried about us. Perhaps he has already solved the problem, and has vacated the time lock so that he doesn’t have to wait for us to finish.”
“There’s no way Romeo would do such a thing. And if he did, you bet your bottom I would call him out for not coming down here to help us.” She stared at the port city below. The stars were reflected in the still water around it, the streets and rooftops blanketed in a couple of feet of snow.
“And you aren’t worried in the slightest about Mike Radley? Perhaps I should suggest that he is dead, too. See how you like it.”
She shook her head. The two of them had just finished a long chat in the Dreamscape, there was no way he was dead if his soul was still in there. “If he’s in trouble, that’s his own darned fault.” Not that I could reach him if he was, she thought. “I’m starting to think this whole thing was a bad idea.”
“Bringing children joy is never a bad idea.” Death tugged at the reins and guided Cerberus down to the streets below. When the sleigh landed, it glided softly over the snow as they dodged cars frozen in time. “This has been quite the enjoyable experience for me.”
“That makes one of us…for now.” She begrudgingly added. While disgruntled, the trip had definitely contained some highlights. “Still, three months? How much farther do we have to go?”
Death pondered his scroll, then rolled it up. “It is better that you don’t think about it.”
“Fudge.” Lily sat back and crossed her arms. “I hate this.”
“Never fear. I’m sure that…” Death paused, his eyes on a nearby alleyway.
“What’s wrong?” Lily stood and squinted. Her night vision may as well be day vision, but she didn’t see anything. The wind had blown some snow off the ground and into the alleyway, creating a time frozen smoke screen effect, but she saw nothing of concern within it.
“Perhaps it was my imagination, but I doubt it.” The sleigh coasted to a stop outside of an apartment complex. “I think it would do you good to keep a very good eye on the street while I am inside making deliveries.”
“Agreed.” She watched as Death stuck his hand in Santa’s bag and withdrew a smaller bag that functioned like the big one. They had discovered this trick sometime after Australia, which had sped things up immensely through Japan and the east coast of China.
Cerberus snorted, sending a small jet of fire from one of their heads, then sniffed the ground. The still world suddenly felt hostile, but Lily couldn’t place where or why. The silent city looked like the interior of a frozen snowglobe, the snow suspended in place all around her. A lone man was paused mid-stride as he crossed the street, his eyes fixed on the only car driving around at this hour. Death disappeared into the building, his body turning into golden fog as he squeezed beneath the front door.
A deep growling sound came from above. Lily looked up to see the Yule Cat watching them from atop the apartment complex. It let out a hiss and a growl, but kept its distance from the sleigh. Cerberus turned their attention upward, letting out a trio of growls.
“You actually found us. I’m impressed.” Lily tried to flip the cat off, but her ring finger kept popping up instead of the middle. “Why don’t you come down here and we’ll make it a Christmas threesome, see what a pair of…” She tried to force her mouth to say the B-word, but couldn’t. “You know what? Let’s come to an understanding. You stay away from me, and I won’t effing neuter you, okay?”
The Yule Cat disappeared from view, but Lily could see its dark shadow as it leapt across the building tops. If the cat was here, it meant that those lumpy little mother-lovers must be around as well.
“Death? Hey, Death!” She scanned the building he had wandered into, hoping to see movement. “We’ve got a situation out here!”
A small, dark shape shot across the street and disappeared beneath a parked car. Cerberus growled at the vehicle, then wandered over to sniff at the ground around it. The reins elongated to allow the hellhound to safely maneuver the street without dragging the sleigh.
“It might not be a bad idea to take it up for a bit,” Lily mumbled, then picked up the reins and cracked them. Cerberus snorted and left the car behind as they towed the sleigh off the ground and took them into the sky. Once they were several hundred feet in the air, Lily looked away from Tick Tock.
“I need to be able to see Death,” she said. There was a popping sound, and she turned around to see that the mimic was now an elaborate spotting scope that had been mounted to the side of the sleigh.
“Perfect.” She put her eye to the lens and Tick Tock oriented himself so that he was pointed at the building Death had gone inside. From up here, she could see the Yule Cat shifting around, trying to hide its mass between a pair of buildings. The ugly trolls from earlier were already on the rooftop and were turning into mist to squeeze into the vents.
“Ah, fiddlesticks.” They were high enough up that the cat couldn’t reach them, but Death was trapped. Though they couldn’t hurt him, they could detain him indefinitely. She had already spent months in this Hallmark movie from hell. She wasn’t about to let them abduct the only person who would help her deliver the presents.
“Toaster, you’re in charge. Cerberus? Wait for my signal.” She tossed the reins over the telescope, knowing that Tick Tock would transform into something more suited for holding them. With a sigh of displeasure, she threw herself off the side of the sleigh and dove toward the roof from above. The wind rushed through her hair, snowflakes smashing against her face and blinding her as she plummeted toward the roof. At the last moment, she spread her wings wide.
The Yule Cat leapt into the air from behind the building, claws outstretched in an attempt to grab her. Still blinded by the snow, Lily grunted as she was knocked off course and slammed into the side of a nearby building. Sulfurous clouds burst from her body as she gritted her teeth, forcing herself to stay in one piece. Dangling from a fire escape by her tail, she sneered at the cat as it growled at her from above.
“Bet you’re real proud of yourself, you sack of trash.” She unhooked her tail as the cat pounced, dropping out of reach. Expanding her wings, she shot toward a window that had been cracked open. A man in his forties in a knit cap stood behind the glass, a cigarette in one hand and a time-frozen cloud of smoke hovering in front of his face. When she reached the window, the world distorted around her, allowing her to pass through the narrow opening as a sparkling mist.
She crashed hard, her bottom scraping against splintered floorboards as she tumbled through a hallway littered with boxes. Behind her, the Yule Cat pressed its face against the window, golden eyes staring daggers at her.
“Yeah, that’s right.” She flipped the cat off, then groaned when her ring finger popped up again. “Can’t even express myself properly,” she grumbled, climbing to her feet. At least she was in the building now.
Up above, she heard a loud yell, followed by a bang.
“That’s my cue.” Scrambling to her feet, she walked down the hall until she found a stairwell, then ascended. Up above, Death was shouting. She could hear the heavy footsteps of nearly a dozen attackers, followed by that crunchy language they spoke. She wondered if it was Icelandic. She had never eaten the soul of an Icelander, which was the fastest way for her to assimilate a language.
She was near the next floor when she saw one of the trolls walk in front of her. This one was trying to run with a large wooden spoon in his mouth. Sensing movement, he turned toward Lily just as she grabbed him by the throat and tossed him down the stairwell. He cried out as he fell, letting out a groan on impact that lasted several seconds.
“Darn. Was really hoping that would kill you.” Lily turned her attention back to the sounds of struggle. The stairwell was in the corner of the building, so she had to go down the hallway and turn before she could see another troll. They were gathered outside of a doorway decorated in crepe paper that had been cut into trees and snowflakes. Every few moments, one would turn into mist and slip underneath the door.
Growling, Lily ran at them, her wings collapsing into her back while horns sprouted on her forehead. She used her horns to toss aside a troll wearing a pot on his head, then snapped a kick at another. They scattered, running away from her just as the door opened and Death emerged.
“They’re trying to take the bag,” Death gasped, then handed it over to Lily. At least three trolls were clutching the Reaper’s robes, trying to pull him down to the ground.
“I’ve got it.” Lily took the bag, kicked a troll away from her feet, then ran back toward the stairwell. It occurred to her that the trolls probably didn’t realize that this wasn’t Santa’s sack, but a smaller version. The trolls fighting Death let go of him and gave chase. Lily was back at the stairwell when she saw the one she had tossed over the side wheezing at the top. His eyes widened in terror as she grabbed him by the hair and sent him plummeting down the stairwell once more.
“Gotta go up,” she muttered, climbing the stairs. Some of the smarter trolls turned into that eerie green mist and floated up the stairwell after her, reforming at the top of the stairs. She fought through them, then ran down the hallway. It occurred to her that she didn’t have an actual plan. There was no way to deliver gifts, and if there was a way to kill the trolls, she didn’t know what it was.
Movement caught her eye, and she looked out the window just as the Yule Cat swatted the window. Startled by the cat’s sudden appearance, Lily tripped and slid across the floor, clutching the bag to her chest. The trolls, who had been right behind her, swarmed across her like insects, punching and biting.
“Ow, darn it!” She tried to swat one away, but the little monster bit down on her hand so hard that bones cracked. Howling in pain, she twisted her head toward the troll and caught him in the eye with one of her horns. The creature cried out and rolled away, clutching at its face. Another took its place, and Lily huddled over the bag, pain wracking her limbs as the trolls tried to rip her apart.
There was a metallic crack, and the trolls leapt away from her, hissing like snakes. They chattered in their mysterious language as Lily raised her head and saw Death standing over her, a bloodied metal bat in his hands.
“I AM HERE TO HAND OUT COAL AND BEAT SOME ASS!” He howled, his own shadow dancing wildly behind him. Off to the side, a mostly headless troll twitched, its limbs twitching like a dying bug. “AND I AM ALL OUT OF COAL!”
He swung again, and the trolls scattered, screaming in fright. The dying troll’s body was already turning into a sickly green mist that sank into the floorboards.
“How come you get to say the a-word?” Lily groaned, using the wall to stand.
“Because you are just the helper,” he replied, then slid his arm beneath her. He dropped the bat, which clattered to the ground. “I am quite cross with those little monsters. I didn’t even get to deliver those presents.”
“Where did you find the bat?” she asked.
“Behind someone’s door. Most of these apartments have one, I assume that the people here are on a team.”
Lily laughed, then turned her attention outside. The Yule Cat was pawing at the glass, unable to harm the building.
“The sleigh is safe for now,” she said. “Let’s get the rest of these delivered, and then figure out what happens next.”
Between the two of them, they made quick work of the apartment complex. The trolls showed up on occasion, but stayed well back when Death menaced them with another bat he had found. Lily wondered if they had actually killed that first troll, or if it had reformed elsewhere.
Every so often, she would take a peek outside to see if she could make out the sleigh. While it would normally be impossible to see it in the sky, it was almost as though she had a sixth sense about its location. She assumed this was a result of wearing the helper hat, and was glad that she got at least some sort of trade-off for having the spice stripped from her vocabulary.
“I believe this was the last one,” Death said shortly after squeezing out of a keyhole. Sparkling lights hovered around him, then faded from view as he contemplated his list. “Yes, correct, we are all done. Now we just have to get back to the sled.”
“Roof or ground?” she asked, looking outside. “If we go roof, we’ll probably have to deal with that stupid cat sneaking up on us from between buildings. Stupid fudger is quick. If we choose ground, it’s the trolls and the cat, but we’ll have more room to get away.”
“Hmm. I do wish I had a better sense of things like these.” Death walked over to the nearest window and stared out into the city. “I suppose Cerberus could handle Jólakötturinn, and we can handle the trolls as long as we’re quick about it. Would probably make more sense if we make a run for it and have Cerberus descend to pick us up. There is an open area a couple of blocks from here that would be perfect for it. That will keep the Yule Cat from pouncing on us from between buildings, and at least you will be able to fly up and take the reins.”
“Sounds like a plan, bone man.”
They moved down through the building. Lily only saw a single troll as they descended. It was waiting on the stairs, then let out a chirping sound like a strangled bird before squeezing its fat booty through the gap beneath a window. It became clear that this one had been the lookout, which meant the others were planning something.
“Hold up.” Lily moved toward the window and looked outside. “I think they’re preparing an ambush.”
“Hmm.” Death pulled the magic bag from where he had tucked it underneath his belt, then stuck his arm inside. When he pulled it out, he was clutching a Louisville Slugger with a cartoon sticker of the Reaper himself on the fat end.
“Why don’t you pull out a sword or something?”
“My dear Lily, this bag is for children’s toys only. A sword is hardly a toy.” He shook his head and moved behind her. “This way, I don’t have to steal one from someone who lives here. There will already be questions about missing equipment at their next game.”
“You are too pure.” Lily patted Death on the cheek, then moved toward a nearby window that was on a different side of the building from where the troll had exited. “I say we squeeze through here and fall. If you can handle the landing, they won’t expect us to come out of the side of the building. They’re likely watching the front and back.”
“This is a good plan. Nothing will go wrong.” Death put his bony fingers on Lily’s shoulder. “You are a good helper.”
“You’ve jinxed us.” She shook her head and moved toward the window. Just how smart were these troll things? Would they expect this? Or could she just launch herself into the sky and get back to the sleigh while Death made a run for it?
“Ho ho ho,” she declared, then leapt through the half-inch opening, her body shrinking down.
Once on the other side of the glass, she unfolded her wings and drifted away from the building. She only made it about fifty feet before a barrage of snowballs from below blinded her and knocked her off course. Only seconds after takeoff, she crashed into the side of another building and tumbled into an alleyway, hitting a dumpster on the way down.
“FUDGE ME IN THE BEEHIVE, OWIE!” She rubbed at her bum and stumbled out into the street. “Death, where are—”
Lily went silent, her eyes on the once abandoned street. It took her a moment to process the sea of faces with angry, coal-black eyes that regarded her. They were packed in the streets, hundreds of them with wicked stick arms and vegetable noses.
Snowmen. Hundreds of them. The lower third of their bodies rotated as they approached, cruelty in their smiles.
“Lily!” She heard Death’s voice from behind the newcomers. “They aren’t very friendly!”
“Hit them in the snowballs!” she shouted, then charged forward, a halo of fire forming over her head. She would be darned if she let Frosty and his inbred family stop her here.
The snowmen pounced, their tree-branch hands surprisingly strong. Lily growled as her flesh was torn, but the snowmen were much softer than the trolls had been. She could easily dismember them, her tail capable of beheading one with a carefully aimed strike.
“Lily, run!” Death’s voice carried a tone of panic. “And whatever you do, don’t—”
His sudden silence worried her, so she leapt into the sky toward where she heard him last. The snowmen pulled chunks of their own body and hurled them at her, but she folded her wings across her body and plunged back to earth like a missile and scattered them.
“They’re just snowmen,” she hollered at the Grim Reaper. “All you have to do is bust them up.” To illustrate her point, she smashed a few apart. It was during this moment that she looked up and saw the Yule Cat monitoring from a nearby roof.
“Afraid of a little snow?” She ripped a snowman’s head off and threw it up. The twenty pound missile had already started crumbling the moment it left her hand, and she watched it fall around her like fine glitter. “Death, where are you?”
There was the loud crunching of snow and a large tree-limb hand grabbed onto the side of a nearby building. Lily slid to a halt as a twenty-foot snowman came around the corner with a pair of bony legs hanging from its lower belly. It had clearly run Death over, trapping him in the snow of its own body.
Opening its mouth wide, the snowman lunged forward, arms outstretched. Lily backed away, unsure how she was supposed to fight such a thing. The creature was made of snow, but so big that she couldn’t properly hurt it. In fact, she suspected that it may even be built from snowmen that had already been torn apart.
Turning to flee, she opened her wings and leapt into the air. A snowball nearly three feet in diameter slammed into her, causing her to crash hard onto the street. Fighting her way free of the icy prison, she rolled onto her back and coiled her tail up in front of her. A group of snowmen formed a circle around her, trapping her in place.
“FUDGE YOU!” She whipped her tail around, smashing them apart, but they kept coming. Up above, the large snowman leaned down and grabbed her with a massive hand. She uselessly struggled to escape as it lifted her towards a frosty maw with icicle teeth.
“I’m gonna give you so much heartburn,” she muttered. Her head was inside its mouth when she heard a zap, followed by a popping sound. The snowman tilted over, the arm holding Lily raising up. She was surprised to see that a large portion of the snowman’s head was now missing, and the street was covered in fresh slush. The snowman turned to reveal a massive creature made of lightning and fog prancing along the street and goring snowmen with its antlers.
It was a reindeer, or at least looked like one. The snowmen tried to capture it, but it easily smashed through them. It turned to face the giant snowman and snorted, then lowered its head to charge.
The reindeer blasted forward, creating a massive hole in the snowman. It collapsed in on itself, dropping Lily onto the street. She landed face first on the street, her jaw breaking.
“Wha thu flem?” She reformed the bones in her jaw and stood. The reindeer zipped around the road, exploding more of the snowmen. Nearby, Death’s hand waved at her from inside a large mound of snow.
The snowmen were busy fighting with the reindeer, so she climbed onto the pile and grabbed Death’s hand and pulled. The reaper emerged, his eye sockets packed with snow.
“Lily, I have gone blind!” He clawed at his skull but she swatted his hands away. Using her fingers, she scooped out the snow until those tiny blue flames reappeared in the dark recesses beneath.
“You’re fine,” she told him, then knelt down to retrieve Santa’s smaller sack from the snow. It was pinned beneath the slush, but it slid free. “We need to go.”
“I agree.” He took the lead and she followed. They were moving away from the reindeer, who now had the full attention of every snowman in the area.
The Yule Cat dropped down from above, nearly flattening Death with a massive paw. It hissed at them, baring its teeth.
“Mother of Santa,” Lily muttered as the cat came for them. They split up, the Yule Cat going after her. She could smell the cat’s breath as it washed over her, heavily scented with rotten fish. A claw caught the back of her leg, tearing open her thigh as she was dragged to the ground. Growling, the cat pinned her down and rolled her onto her back.
“Why is everyone trying to eat me today?” she bemoaned, then tried to stab the cat in the eye with her tail. The Yule Cat dodged, swatting her hard enough that she saw stars. Knocked silly, she felt the ground tremble beneath her before a giant figure appeared, smashing its knuckles into the cat’s face.
Suddenly free, Lily stumbled to her feet and blinked her eyes. It was a giant woman in festive garb with a crown of laurels on her head, and she had the Yule Cat in a head lock.
“Get back to the sleigh,” cried the giant. “Dancer and I will find you!”
Lily didn’t need to be told twice. She unfolded her wings and ran along the street, spotting Death on top of a car. He was kicking at the trolls who had trapped him there.
Putting on a burst of speed, she leapt into the air and stuck out her hand. Death saw her and reached up, grabbing her by the wrist. The Reaper was surprisingly light as they ascended, leaving the fight below.
From above, the sleigh dropped out of the clouds. Tick Tock was in the form of an elaborate present, his metallic arms adorned with ribbons while holding the reins. Lily and Death crashed into the sleigh as it rose back into the sky, leaving Vladivostok behind. Once Lily was able to look over the side, she saw that the snowman army stretched for over a mile in each direction from where they had been. The reindeer was running for the city limits, followed by several hundred of them. The giant woman and the Yule Cat were still fighting, but it was hard to tell who was winning.
“What in the name of Christmas just happened?” Lily blinked in surprise, then turned to Death for answers.
“I am uncertain,” he told her, then leaned back in his seat. “But you have made one thing abundantly clear to me this night.”
“What’s that?”
“I couldn’t have asked for a better helper.” Death took the reins from Tick Tock. “Let us await our new friends over the water. Neither giant cats nor snowmen shall find us there.”
Lily looked back one last time at Vladivostok. It occurred to her that there were still hundreds of presents to deliver, but until they addressed their new snowmen problem, they wouldn’t be able to do it.
“Wait.” Lily felt around her waist, then looked at Death. “Did…did you get the spare bag?” The last time she remembered having it was right before the Yule Cat had tried to eat her.
“Alas, I do not.” Death shook his head sadly. “I am afraid those gifts are lost.”
More miserable than ever, Lily pulled the hot cocoa thermos free of its holder and attempted to drown her sorrows with it.