Christmas Revelations

A Tale by Michael and Rhianna DeAngelo

In more ways than they cared to admit, the sands in the hourglass seemed to flow in the same direction.  Perhaps the only way they changed was that they flowed a little faster.

It was too difficult to ignore.  The world still hadn’t quite returned to normal, although there were signs of healing.  Gone were the worries of Zelda and Maisie not knowing how to socialize with other people, for there were far more instances of visitors to the house that year, especially as the months went on.  And so, too, was Rhianna’s interactions, as careful as they were.  The opportunities to see loved ones in safer ways had afforded some relief as well.

Though there was always, on the periphery, some worry that things were not as safe as they could be, a nagging feeling that enough wasn’t being done to feel completely comfortable.

They were baby steps, Michael tried to convince himself.

Yet, with all the baby steps there were, it felt like the previous two years were rolled into one, almost impossible to tell the two apart, with the sensation that far less time had passed than truly had.

When the day came that the DeAngelo family looked forward to each year, it seemed as though it came too quickly.  Perhaps for that reason, at first, they didn’t realize everything was not as expected.

The year before, Christmas seemed to come early, and almost entirely too powerfully.  It wasn’t until they were whisked away to Tellest that they learned of someone highjacking the holiday portal that typically brought them to Santa for whatever annual adventure or celebration they had in store.  Trapped in a strange facsimile of a house, nothing felt quite as rewarding that year as they were hoping after several long and fretful months—until they managed to ride a dragon to freedom and spent their holidays on a comfortable tropical island.

Still, they hadn’t managed to find the one that had thwarted Santa’s plans that year.  While it wasn’t typical for the DeAngelo family to hear from their jolly host outside of the holiday season, as the days ticked down to the next Christmas, they wondered about their plans.  If Santa’s brother hadn’t been stopped, who was to say that some other sort of deception wouldn’t be set in place a year later?

The difference, Rhianna explained time and time again, was that Santa was prepared that year.  They wouldn’t have to worry about being wrapped up in any tricks or ruses, and it was likely to be a perfectly fine time at the North Pole.

That faith was tested as the day before Christmas Eve arrived.

The evening hours, leading to midnight, were not awash in a fresh snowfall, as they often were.  Instead, the sky was bleak and grey, just enough light bouncing off the clouds to be able to see outside.  It was cold out; the wind rattled the windows of the house just enough that Zelda had to fight against her neurosis.  She didn’t shiver like she normally did—bolstered by the Christmas spirit, Michael and Rhianna supposed—but she did pant a bit.

Maisie and Peanut fared a little better, each snuggling the same warm blanket, though neither realized one was atop the other, separated by the layer of fabric.  Or, at least, that was what it appeared they wanted others to believe.

Michael sat on the couch beside them, the dog and the cat comforted by his presence, even though he’d spent the day at home rather than at work.  Though he’d taken some of the time off to write, at that moment, he’d settled a nice depression into the couch as he played a game.

“I can’t get up,” he insisted to his wife.  “Maisie and Peanut would be too sad.”

Rhianna, meanwhile, was filling the house with a lovely aroma, mixing something up in the kitchen.  “At least play a game with fun music so that I can listen.  Or change it to a show that I’m only half-interested in so that I can listen to the dialog without getting too invested.”

That time was long past, and they were drawing closer to the time they knew that magic would come to their little house.  They tried to settle their anxieties, but Michael and Rhianna had to admit, they were concerned with when the magic would arrive, and who it would belong to that year.

Rhianna set down a plate on the coffee table, with piping hot bread and an orangey glace atop it.  With the aroma that much closer to her husband, he could no longer ignore it.

“What’s this?” he asked.  “Bread and mango butter?  Not exactly cookies and eggnog, but I approve.”

“I figured it goes better with where we ended up last year.  A nice, warm island filled with yummy food… Santa deserves something special as thanks.”

“Yeah, okay,” Michael said.  “But he better be open to sharing.”

For some reason, everyone felt as though they were waiting longer that year.  Perhaps it was because everyone had been present throughout, and nothing had given that feeling of speeding up the day.  Husband and wife alternated checking their phones, identifying the time.

“Still an hour away,” Rhianna said.  “I can just sense the puppies want to talk.”

“And I’m trying to find out what way Peanut is going to berate me when she finds the means to speak.”  The dogs barked in unison after the slightest of delays then.  “You even had your tuna this year,” Michael said.  “That’s right, I didn’t forget.”

“Fifty-nine minutes,” Rhianna grumbled.  “Why is this day so long?  I can’t wait to hear their little voices again!”

“Hey, let’s not jinx it,” her husband insisted.  “The last time we got the portal early, we ended up imprisoned by—”

“That’s not going to happen this year,” Rhianna declared.  “I won’t have it.  I won’t!  This year, we’re going to have a perfectly splendid Christmas free of traps or locked houses, and especially eating things we’re not supposed to.”  Maisie ducked her head at that statement, though the woman patted her affectionately, for she had in fact been on her best behavior lately.

“No chasing after rambunctious pups and racing against giants and elves and dwarves?” Michael asked.

“Nope.”

“No fending off huge, carnivorous penguins?”

“Not a one.”

“Not even being turned into toys and battling it out against magical rats?”

Rhianna arched her eyebrow and smiled.  “That was a bit fun.”

“There’s always something,” Michael said.  “Even when it doesn’t look like there’s going to be.”

Time continued to pass, and while they could have sworn it was the next day already, it was still minutes from midnight.

“Hey, look on the bright side,” Michael said.  “We’re not being tricked into an escape room by Santa’s brother.”

Rhianna looked around, narrowing her eyes.  “Unless that’s what he wants us to think.  Curious that you said that, and that you stayed home today this year, isn’t it?”

“You really need to get out more,” Michael said, leaning over and kissing her on the forehead.

Rhianna feigned an angry glare at her husband, but the next moment, she cuddled up next to him a little closer on the couch, and grabbed his arm, nuzzling his shoulder with her head.  “You know, I wasn’t a fan of being deceived last year, but it was nice that the animals could talk a little bit earlier.”  Peanut hopped onto the couch then, searching for scratches.  Rhianna couldn’t stave off a laugh then, acquiescing to that request at once.  “Even the most persnickety of voices,” she added.

Maisie and Zelda joined them there some time later, the entire family snuggled together on the couch.

“A full boat,” Michael said with a smile on his face.

Of course, Peanut could only accept being flanked by the pups for a few moments before she hopped off Rhianna’s lap, forcing an involuntary grunt from the woman.

Rhianna sat forward then and reached for her phone.  “Do you want me to plug yours in so that it’s charged when we…”

As her words trailed off, Michael stopped scratching behind Maisie’s ears and tilted his head.  “What is it?” he wondered.

“Look,” his wife said, turning her phone to face him.  The locked screen showed the time then, the large numbers reading 12:02.  “It’s after midnight, and the portal still isn’t open.”

“Really?” Michael asked, nudging the pup off his lap.  “Maybe your phone’s time is off?”  When he clicked the button on his own phone however, he saw that his phone had flipped to 12:03 then as well.  “What’s going on?” he muttered.

“What are we going to do?” Rhianna asked.

“Well, I mean, it isn’t like Santa has any sort of technical support line, as far as I know.  But what about the book?  He communicated with us by book last year a few times.  Maybe he’s sending us messages this year as well.”

Rhianna leapt from the couch, eager to test that theory.  She ran to the writing desk they kept in the room, and grabbed for the tome that spoke of Santa’s lineage, and of the things he did to bring Christmas to life.  With a sigh setting her shoulders into a slump, she shook her head.

“Nothing here as far as I can tell.”

Even the animals seemed to know something was strange then, and Zelda ran to the back door of the house, scratching at the door.

“What is it, girl?” Michael asked.  He rose from his seat on the couch and hurried there as well, wondering if something was beginning to take shape there.  “Do you see anything out there?” he asked the pup.

Zelda looked at him for some time, almost as if she expected to be able to say something, but no words came out from betwixt her whiskered lips, and she scratched at the door again.  That late, several minutes after midnight, he was a bit worried about her waking up the neighbors, but nobody seemed to notice anything in the years that passed.  Then again, in those other years, there was certainly magic that took shape in the backyard of the DeAngelo household.

Reeling him from his thoughts, Zelda scratched even more incessantly.  Michael finally relented, and set the door open, a cool breeze whipping through the house enough that he thought of shutting the door at once.  Zelda skittered outside, and the rear light flickered on, but still, nothing could be seen.

“Last year things were way too early.  Maybe this year the pendulum is swinging the other way,” Rhianna said.  “But I don’t remember Santa saying anything about it.  I don’t think he would have just decided not to bring us this year without telling us.”

“You haven’t done anything that put us on the naughty list, have you?” Michael asked.  He chuckled to himself and shook his head, before looking at the other pooch on the couch.  “Maisie, do you want to go outside too?”

The littlest pup of the household was always the most excited to venture out into the world, whether it was because of a biological need or a psychological one, to check the perimeter, or even just to take a single step out and give everything an ocular pat-down.  That night, it was hard for her to even drag herself off the couch, and when she skittered to the other room, she stopped at Michael’s side, refusing to go outside.  She looked up at him, and when he looked down, she leaned over, nuzzling her head against his leg.

“I know, baby girl.  I want you to be able to talk too.”

By the time Rhianna stood beside the table and looked outside, Zelda seemed inconsolable.  “I can’t believe how sad they are.  I guess we really take for granted how much they look forward to this time of year.”

“They’re usually adventures like no other,” Michael said, a wistful tone causing a crack in his voice.  He looked back to the oven, the green light displaying the time.  “It’s ten minutes after midnight,” he said then.  “I’m guessing we’re not going anywhere this year.  I’ll go out with them and make sure they do their business and then we can get ready for bed, I suppose.”

When Michael stepped outside, Maisie went with him, looking up at him with every step they took, as though she was hoping he could bring the Christmas magic to life.  After a few seconds, she realized he was as unable to do anything as she was, and she set off sniffing at the ground.

She couldn’t find a spot she was satisfied with when a loud gust of wind blew through the area.  A large puff of snow seemed to arrive then as well, but Michael looked about the area in curiosity.  He glanced back at the door to the house, and saw his wife’s widened eyes, and she pointed to the ground there.

Sure enough, the snow had come up from the ground.

Michael recognized the outline of the portal at once.  “Zelda, get out of there right now!”

But it was too late.  As gusts of snow burst out of the ground, finishing their circle, the portal came into being, and Zelda fell through the magical vortex.

Rhianna banged on the door before opening it, and the force of the wind was almost enough to rip it off its hinges.  “It was early last year, and it’s late this year,” she called out.  “What if it’s a trap like last year?”

“Even if it is, it’s too late to hold off now,” the man insisted.

“Oh, we’re going,” she replied.  “But just be prepared for whatever is on the other side.”

Michael nodded, and before he had even taken his first step, Maisie charged forth as well.  Together, both leapt into the portal, crashing through the wall of rising snow.

Inside the house, Rhianna turned back toward the living room.  “Come on Peanut,” she said.  “I know you always resist, but…”

Even as she spoke, the cat scurried forward, though slow enough as to say, “I know you’ll bother me until I follow, but I’ll do it at my own pace.”

When they were both outside, Rhianna shut the door to the house, ensuring none of the snow would get in while they ventured to Tellest.  She scooped the feline up then, and then reached the perimeter of the portal.  She narrowed her eyes, and covered Peanut’s face so that the cat wouldn’t be bothered by the rush of snow, and then, taking a breath, she jumped as far into the center of the portal as she could, disappearing beneath the ground.

The roar of the snow and the wind continued for a few more moments, and then it stopped, the ground closing up again, the snow that churned into the air finally able to come back down again.  Before long, any evidence of the portal being there at all was covered in white flakes, and a few moments later, the backdoor light of the DeAngelo household went dim.

*          *          *

Michael shouted as he fell, hoping there was a pile of snow on the other side of the vortex to crash into.  By the time the portal magic wore off, and he saw where he would be landing in Tellest, it was too late.  He landed with a thud, a cloud of powdery snow taking to the air.

The man groaned, unable to produce a noise loud enough for even him to hear, and he rolled to his back—just in time for Maisie to land on his stomach, forcing a large breath from his lungs.  She didn’t seem to care too much that she had knocked the wind out of him, and she licked his face a few times before scampering off to investigate the area.

Off to the side, Michael saw Zelda peering off into the distance, the horizon seeming much farther off than he expected.  He climbed to his knees then, his arms outstretched, and he crawled a little bit away, hoping not to be squashed any further.

Before he could rise to his feet, Rhianna emerged through the portal, landing on a bent knee and an outstretched hand.  She looked to Michael at her side, who wore an impressed visage.

“Did you just stick a superhero landing?” he asked, his voice still quiet and ragged.

Before Rhianna could answer, Peanut hopped from her other arm, and bounced on the ground after realizing how cold it was.  She, too, moved beyond the landing ground, toward where Maisie and Zelda stood.

“I’ll bet it looked cool, but my body is going to hate me for that in the morning,” Rhianna said.

“It already is the morning, technically,” Michael replied.

“I stand by what I said.”  She took her husband’s hand, and they both labored to stand a little straighter then.  Together, they looked to their trio of pets, watching them gaze off into the distance.  “What are they all looking at?”

It didn’t take long for them to find that enlightenment.  A few rocky outcroppings stood in the area, but there was a clearing not far from them which the animals looked on from.  As Michael and Rhianna neared them, they realized they stood atop a clifftop overlook, with a seascape stretching out below them.

As majestic as the view was, it was perhaps the wooden longboats that sailed toward the nearest shore that caught their attention the most.  There were a variety of sailors in the ships, though from that distance, nobody on the clifftop could see anyone clearly enough to know if they were friend or foe.  They did notice that the longship figureheads were fashioned to look like reindeer, though.

“That has to be Santa’s fleet, right?” Rhianna asked.

“I’m not sure,” Michael said.  “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of Santa having a navy before.”  He hummed to himself then.  “An air force?  Now that makes sense to me.”

“Whatever sort of military forces Santa has on his side, this is unlike anything we’ve ever faced this close to Christmas,” his wife said.  “Things must be far bleaker than we imagined.  Just listen to how quiet it is.  I’ve played enough Viking video games to know what a battle is supposed to feel like, and it’s unlike longboats to be so quiet.”

“There must be a plan brewing,” Michael said.

As the pair discussed everything from war arrangements that they imagined their friend made, to the kind of enemies they expected to face on the field of battle, to just where that battlefield would be, the youngest member of the DeAngelo family couldn’t help but be distracted by something else.  A bug with a golden-glowing thorax buzzed about the area, and Maisie couldn’t help but follow it with her gaze.  If Zelda or Peanut seemed concerned with it, they didn’t show it.

Maisie turned about, trying to boop the bug with her nose.  It was no use though, for every time she drew close enough to touch it, the lumibug, an insect native to Tellest—though that one was certainly a bit exotic looking, even for the strange bugs—buzzed just far enough away for her to miss interacting with it.

That wouldn’t be a problem, she soon realized.  A handful of other lumibugs joined the first one, those other ones blinking with light of their own, in shades of green, blue, and red to join the golden yellow luminescence of the first one that caught Maisie’s attention.  She hopped into the air to play with the bugs as best she could, but they flew about in a crazy manner, until they ended up landing on a bush a bit further away from the cliffside.  At once, it looked like the shrubbery was decorated for the festive season, the bugs looking almost ornamental in their appearance as they rested there.

While Maisie stared at them, the small branches of the bush seemed to rattle and sway.  The little dog didn’t know what to think at first, but when she noticed the pair of eyes staring back at her, she knew what she had to do. She took in a deep breath of crisp air that filled her lungs.

“Merry Christmas!” she cried out.

The person hiding in the bush let their eyes go wide for a moment before they disappeared behind the greenery once more.  Behind Maisie, the rest of her family turned to regard her.

Maisie’s voice echoed across the cliff side, and they were sure that those in the longboats heard her as well.

“Let’s just hope they’re on our side,” Michael said.

“We’ve got more important things to pay attention to,” Rhianna said.  “Our babies can talk again!”

The lumibugs took to the air again, along with a bigger swarm of them that had been hiding within the bush, and Maisie twirled about and jumped in the air to play with them.  Her patches of white fur made an excellent canvas for the light to spill upon.

“Who were you yelling Merry Christmas to?” Rhianna wondered.  “There’s no one here.”

“There was though!” Maisie said, excited enough not to stop playing with her new insect friends, although every time she spun about, her eyes landed in the shrubbery not too far from them.  “Whoever it is, they’re hiding in there.”

Michael stood on the tips of his toes to try and peer into the bushes, but he didn’t see anything besides more lumibugs that flashed their abdomens about.  “Maisie, I think you might have just saw a couple of bugs close enough together that they looked like eyes.”

The little pup quit hopping around then, grumbling at the two humans.  “I know what I saw,” she insisted.

“Yeah,” Peanut interjected with a roll of her eyes.  “It’s just like all those times you hop in the window and bark at nothing.”

“There are squirrels that need to be told their place,” Maisie said.

“You know that much is true,” Zelda added.  “She’s pretty good at keeping her eyes out for rodents.”

“You’re a rodent,” Peanut teased.

“Psst!” they all heard then.

They looked about, trying to make sense of what just happened, but no body could understand where the noise came from.  Then Rhianna’s eyes flashed, and she pointed at the bush.  “Look!”

Sure enough, there were a pair of large eyes staring at them, and as the person inside the shrubbery pushed forward, the family could see their pointy ears poking out as well.

“You must be one of Santa’s friends!” Maisie exuberantly declared.

“Hopefully those folks in the boats are on our side as well,” Rhianna said.

The hidden elf brought her hand up and out of the bush, before swinging it back around and hovering it over its camouflaged lips.

“Never a good sign after your echoes are heard around all of the surrounding area,” Michael said.

The elf stepped out of the shrubbery and looked about anxiously.  The DeAngelo family could see that it was a female elf, like many under Santa’s employ, although that one wore battle paint and looked ready for war.

“There’s trouble in Tellest,” she warned with a whisper.  “There’s not much I can tell you here, but once we meet up with Santa, he’ll know what to do.”

“So, Santa is alright,” Rhianna said, blowing out a sigh.  “We had thought, with the portal opening so late…”

The elven maiden raised her hand to quiet the woman.  “Best not to speak out loud.  There could be hidden listeners.”

“By the time we find out what’s going on, those people in the boats will climb this cliff, and we’ll have very active listeners,” Michael joked, earning a scowl from the elf.

“We’re hoping they’re our reinforcements,” she said.  “But you know Santa’s brother.  He’s a master of deception, and it could all be a devious ploy.  We don’t want your presence here known, so if I am to take you to our mutual friend, you’ll need to be silent.”

“I can do that,” Maisie excitedly offered.  “I’m very good at being quiet,” she blurted.

“Only when you’re sleeping,” Zelda insisted.

“And barely then,” Peanut added.

The youngest animal grumbled a bit then.  “Why are you two always picking on me.”

“Because you’re the baby,” Zelda explained.  “It’s your job.”

“It’s okay,” Rhianna said, kneeling to pet the pup, as well as her two furry siblings who couldn’t stave off their jealously, and needed pets of their own.  “It’s a very important job to have.”

“Come on,” the elven maiden said, beckoning the family on.  “At the very least, we can get you beneath cover where prying eyes might not see you.”

The elf’s noticeable anxiety as she led them down rocky corridors through the mountain added to the DeAngelo family’s sense of unrest.  Even in trying times, during Christmas, Tellest had always held a sense of magic and wonder for the family of five.  But this year seemed bleaker, and more foreboding.  Rhianna sent a worried glance in Michael’s direction, her eyes echoing the same look of weariness he’d seen the last two years back home.  Without a word he reached out and squeezed her hand, which she knew meant everything would be ok.

The animals walked ahead, closely following the elf. Maisie kept nudging slightly ahead of the elf before looking back, as if willing her to walk faster.  Every so often, she whispered “is this quiet enough? I can be even quieter.”  Then, in the same exact pitch, she went on.  “Isn’t this even more quieter?”

Zelda let out a grumble. “It’s been a while since I put my mouth over your face. I think you need a reminder of who’s boss.” Peanut whipped her head around incredulously at Zelda.  “I meant…I meant just of her.  Sometimes. When you’re upstairs.”

“Even when you can’t see me, I’m still the boss.”

Zelda sighed.

Michael and Rhianna’s smiles at their exchange faded as they heard the unearthly sounds on the other side of a large stone wall covered in a dusting of white snow. It appeared as if the stones were haphazardly placed, perhaps from a rockslide or explosion on the side of the mountain.  The sounds from the other side seemed muffled, as if by magic.

The two humans tried to detect what was there beyond the barrier.  A commotion of some sort was there, but they couldn’t yet pinpoint a sound.  Whatever cacophony was there was beyond their detection

The elf gently placed her hands on the stones and uttered words of power in a language they did not understand.  She stepped backward a few feet toward the family.  Nothing happened for a moment, but then the rocks began swirling together weightlessly in the air, forming a human-like shape, although it was three times as tall and four times as wide as Michael, the tallest of the present group.  Just a short while later, a large golem of ice and snow stood there, fully formed and looming above them. The being peered down at the elf, and she fearlessly instructed it to allow passage. As soon as the order was given, the golem stepped aside, and the ground rattled with the force of its steps.  A faint swirling shimmer could be seen through the gentle snow flurries that blew from the mountain. There was motion on the other side, but nothing could be seen clearly through it.

“That must be a magic barrier,” Rhianna said.

The elf sent her a nod of acknowledgement.  “Quickly, we must hurry and close the entrance. I’ll take you to Santa when we’re through.”

Peanut fearlessly followed the elf through, with Maisie close on her heels. Rhianna and Michael looked around for Zelda and panicked when they did not immediately find her. Michael then felt something shiver behind his boots.

“What’s wrong?” Michael asked.

“The rock monster stomps were loud!” she whimpered.

Michael chuckled, picked her up and kissed her on the head. There’s probably going to be a lot of noise and a lot of people in there.  Will you be brave?” he asked.

“I’ll be… I’m tough,” she insisted.  “It was just unexpected.”

Michael then looked to his wife, who looked worriedly at the portal. “There’s probably going to be a lot of people in there.  Are you going to be all right?” he asked, half in jest.

Rhianna sighed.  “I’m fine.  It’s Christmas in Tellest.  It’s different from back home.  At least everyone here is jolly.”

As they passed through the magic barrier, they were flooded with very un-jolly sights and sounds.

They emerged through the magic barrier as though they had walked through a silk certain, into a clearing surrounded by mountains.  Crude hide tents were set up as far as the eye could see.  The festively dressed elves that they were used to in years passed were bustling about in leather and steel armor, with red and green warpaint adorning their faces.  The deafening clang of metal against anvils could be heard echoing through the clearing, as strong-armed dwarves mercilessly gave shape to weapons that they forged.  Where toys had been made in years past, all their attention was on instruments of war.

Even the gnomes who tinkered on some of Santa’s greatest projects, bustled about, hoping to be able to pivot away from playful gadgets to implements of the conflict yet to come.  Perhaps they could turn the tide and secure a victory for their otherwise jolly champion.

Orders were barked on all sides as the three races prepared for battle against whatever enemy they may be facing. The DeAngelo family stood frozen at the unsettling scene.  Maisie’s attention drifted to some nearby elves rolling a large snowball.

“Well, at least they seem to be having fun…” Maisie said with a nervous lick and a gulp.

The elves placed one sizable snowball on top of another, and another.  Encircling the figure, they began to chant a spell.  Hollow eyes and a cavernous mouth formed on the upper snowball, fashioning an almost skull-like appearance.  Frozen arms sprouted from the sides of its spherical torso.  Then, all at once, the snowman came to life, and it reached for a nearby offered weapon, taking it between frigid fingers.

“Okay,” said Zelda, wide eyed and perturbed.

The elf maiden beckoned them away from the army of the weapon-wielding snowmen taking shape. “Come, Santa has been awaiting your arrival.”

She brought the family through the rudimentary walkways between the encampments, and into the heart of the chaotic battle preparations.  A large tent, standing taller than the rest and covered in fur pelts and an array of fabrics to keep out the frigid air stood before them.  The elf maiden announced loudly that the DeAngelo family had arrived, but there was no reply from within.  She cleared her throat and announced formally again. “I have brought the DeAngelo family, by your command.”  Again, no reply came from within.  Before she could try again, Zelda bolted through the flap in the tent, yelling “Santa” with glee.  She immediately screamed and ran back out, batting her face with her paws as if something were wrong with her eyes.

“What happened?” the two humans of the group said in concerned unison.

“He’s … he’s….”

Before she could finish her sentence, Michael and Rhianna opened the flap of the tent, preparing for terrible news.

“He’s naked!” she finally exclaimed.

The two humans immediately dropped the tent fabric as if it burned their hands.  Before it fully closed, they could not hope to stave off the state of shock that gripped them.  Santa was clothed by then, in boots and pants, padded with leather and plated in steel.  His torso, however, was partially exposed as he fastened his tunic, and under the long white beard were the broad, defined muscles of a seasoned warrior.  Santa was covered in battle scars, and looked more like a Viking conqueror than the jolly Father Christmas they came to know through the years.  The husband and wife looked at each other with raised eyebrows, fighting the urge to laugh at the unexpected sight.

“Sorry Santa,” said Rhianna sheepishly.

“Was he really naked?” asked Maisie.

“No, he wasn’t,” Rhianna said with a chuckle.  “But I didn’t expect him to be ripped.” Her face glowed pink with embarrassment as she heard rustling within the tent, clearly within earshot.

Michael looked gleeful, excited to make fun of her for the blunder for a long, long time.  Still embarrassment could come later.  “He must have a marvelous diet plan,” he said, tapping her in the side with his elbow.  “Although come to think of it, lugging all those presents around is probably a decent enough workout.”

Santa emerged from the tent then, and the merriment died at the sight of him, wearing a fretful scowl, with worried eyes that seemed far more distant than in all the years since they’d first met him.

He was fully clad in armor, with the underlying fabric dyed blood red.  He wore a large white and grey fur mantle draped across his shoulders, and a thick black leather belt with matching leather boots.  Two giant war axes, elaborately carved with runes, and seemingly too large for one man to carry, were strapped to his back.

“Ripped huh?” Peanut said, looking him up and down with a discerning eye. “Hmm. Must be all the milk and cookies,” she said sarcastically.

Santa’s serious visage broke, and he let out a familiar chuckle.

“That’s indeed correct,” he playfully remarked to the small cat.

Michael chuckled with a smirk and patted his own belly.  “Uh, I assure you, it isn’t.”

Rhianna nudged his shoulder and mumbled “Calories don’t count on Christmas.”

“Or on birthdays,” he replied.

“Or when we’re sad.”

“What’s a calories?” Maisie wondered, tilting her head in confusion.

“Fuel for fetching!” Zelda explained.

Santa’s lips parted as he prepared another few remarks for his honored guests, but before he could say anything, he peered over their heads, and called out to his bustling holiday legion.

“Remember, either bolster the snowmen with something sturdy inside, or with magic,” his deep voice resonated.  “We need them to survive whatever force comes their way.”

None of the DeAngelo family remembered him speaking with such a low timbre in all the years that they had visited him.  They were certain that the stress of whatever turmoil had come to the North Pole had affected him tremendously.

Santa sighed, and for the briefest of moments, his voice rose back to a familiar tone.  “I’m sorry, but we have urgent matters to discuss.  There is a power at work that threatens Tellest, your world, and countless others.”  The solemnity of his words rang in all their ears.  He turned his attention to the elf maiden, who stood up straighter to receive his order.  “Ellaria, please be a dear and go to the dwarf forge master and fetch my helm.”  Zelda perked up at the word fetch, but Michael nudged her slightly with his leg and shook his head.  She understood the message that it was not the time for play, but her ears lowered a bit, nonetheless.

There was no hope in reining in all the animals’ whimsy though, as Maisie stepped forward and puffed out her chest.  “You know, I’m something of a foragemaster myself,” she announced.  “I find all kinds of things in the grass that I’m not supposed to eat.”

Rhianna groaned and slapped her forehead, while Michael shook his head and tried not to chuckle.

Michael was able to push past the quirky comments, noting the gravity of the situation.  “This isn’t a normal turn of events,” he said to Santa then.  “Is this about your brother?”

Their oft-jolly host let a somber nod answer for him for a moment, and then he stood in silence for a few seconds longer.  “I had thought that Loki would have had enough fun last year tormenting you, but it seems he’s back in full force this year.  We first noticed his arrival when he and his pillagers ransacked and took over my workshop.  Shortly after, he drove out the dwarves from the mines, and forced them back across the frozen wastes.  He amassed a squadron of frost giants and snow satyrs—far more than live in Tellest, I’d wager, at least this close together.  He’s fashioning his own army and preparing for an invasion.”

“Why?” Rhianna asked.  “Is he trying to stop Christmas?”

“Worse,” Santa insisted.  “He’ll try to use what I’ve made of the North Pole and use it to take over this world.  And when he’s done here, he’ll try to take over yours, and any other world that celebrates any version of Yule.”

“I don’t understand,” Michael said.  “Why would he do that?”

“It’s his own cruel way of mocking our history.”  The embodiment of Christmas stood taller then and folded his burly arms over his chest.  “I trust you’ve read the tome I gave you so many years ago?”

Rhianna nodded and offered the fellow a wide smile.  “We’ve been waiting forever to talk about this,” she said, almost too excited to bear.

“Right,” Santa said.  “Well then, you know the truth of it.  You know who I was before I came to Tellest.”

“Baldr,” Michael said, invoking the fellow’s original name.

Santa bowed his head, as though hearing his old moniker was a heavy burden to bear.  “You two might know the story, but your little ones may not.”

He shuffled back a step and sat upon the edge of the table beside his tent, leaning on his knee.  “Once in a land far away, I was noted for celebrating far different things.  I was the leader of hunts, and a prince upon my people, beloved by all, but soon cursed with the gift of foresight: that one day I would be struck down by one I called friend.  My mother also saw the signs of my demise, and she worked tirelessly to find a way to save me.

“But it was not to be,” Santa explained.  “Despite all her searches, and all her delving into magics, and seeking out the aid of others, my fate could not be changed.  Even though I seemed impervious to any other sort of injuries, there was one thing that could pierce the shroud that protected me.  It was the same ingredient that my mother had used to make a concoction that would otherwise keep me safe: mistletoe.”

Santa stared off into the snow on the ground beyond the DeAngelo family while they listened, enraptured by his tale.

“For a brief while, everything seemed to be going better.  I felt more confident, took greater risks, and even acted recklessly.  The others among the Aesir would fall upon me to surprise me and start a scuffle, seeing if they could do anything to harm me, but I would always find a way to come out unharmed.  Swords and hammers bounced off me.  Arrows could not pierce my skin.  It seemed I had imagined the opposite of what could happen to me.

“With my confidence regained, I led a pack of mighty hunters on an escapade across the sky.  Back then, I had horses that could fly instead of reindeer, but we almost came back with a good haul.  It was a cause for celebration again and again.

“One night, my hunters and I were playing around,” Santa said.  “I swore, to the ends of the mountains and back, that no matter what they did, they wouldn’t be able to hurt me.  Despite our better judgment, they tried with just about everything: axes, slings, shields.  But it was then that a surprising event took place.  My brother, Hudr, blinded by darkness since he was young, stepped forward, brandishing an exquisite spear.  Now, we didn’t know at the time, but it was crafted out of mistletoe.  Had I been aware of it, I would have avoided the damned thing like my life depended on it—because it did.”

Santa rubbed his abdomen just above his right hip.  “It didn’t take long.  The mistletoe reacted in my body at once, sending me spiraling to the ground.  I must have been unconscious before I fell, for I remember dreaming before I could feel the sensation of my head hitting anything.  The dream again left me believing I was going to die.

“But I didn’t,” he declared.  “In my visions, I always saw myself fall, but it was never a violent sight or anything along those lines.  Even caught in the mistletoe’s poison, I was aware that the interpretation I had years before was wrong.  I still lived, caught somewhere between awareness and a stupor that robbed me of myself.  I was weak, weary, and at danger of something terrible happening to me, but I would yet live.

“Outside of the oblivion I was trapped inside, the others of the Aesir believed that Hudr had killed me.  While he was put in shackles and locked away, the person who gave him the spear was still slinking around in the shadows.

“Now, admittedly, my mother had grown a bit paranoid over the prior year or so, always looking for a way to keep me safe.  She knew that there was some foul deed at play that had set me to oblivion.  While I lay on the cusp of eternal darkness, she conspired with my wife and one of our good friends, the dwarf Litr, to send me off somewhere safe from whoever had tried to have me killed.”

Michael and Rhianna looked to each other, familiar indeed with what had happened after Santa, his wife, and the dwarf came to Tellest.

“So, you think that Loki was the one to give Hudr the spear,” Rhianna surmised.

“And that now, after all these years, he’s finally found the other world you made your home, and he’s trying to finish the job,” Michael added.

Santa nodded.  “Even with thousands of years to try and find out what little details he could, I’ve managed to keep my identity and my secrets safe.  But I knew it was only a matter of time before he would find me again.  Still, I’ve no idea why he harbors a grudge after everything that’s transpired.  All I know is that he threatens all we’ve built here, and if we don’t do anything to stop him, we may be in greater trouble than in any recent time I can recall.”

“We’ve faced down lots of things for the sake of Christmas,” Zelda said, puffing out her fluffy chest a little bit.  “We’ll help to make sure Loki doesn’t stop it.”

Peanut sighed and sat down beside her, for a moment springing back up as she felt the cold snow on her backside.  “As much as I am loathe to agree with the dog, she’s right.  We didn’t spend the last five years helping you just to let some guttersnipe swoop in.”  She looked to her two humans and narrowed her eyes.  “We do not like uninvited guests.”

Santa chuckled then; his hearty belly laughs almost returned before his weariness took over.  “Alas, I don’t believe he’s using my resources to stop Christmas.  “He’s planning on taking over this world, as well as yours, and any other that celebrates Wintertide, or any sort of version of Yuletide.  In fact, I suspect yours might be the next on his list after what happened last year.  He was going to use the portal I open for you at midnight each year, but I thought better of it this year, and suspected something was amiss.  Sure enough, when I opened my portal, you could see his mischievous magic taking shape.  The color changed on this side, but who is to say what it looked like on the other end.  All I do know is that I arranged something with Rurnar.  A few giants from an opposing clan may have had a portal open up in their den, instead of it opening up in the DeAngelo household.”  When a few eyes grew wider at that revelation, he waved his hand and shook his head.  “They’ll be fine.  If there are puzzles to sort through like last year, I’m sure they’ll take a heavier-handed approach, but the important thing is that you’re all here.  And might I add, I apologize for the delay.”

“That’s okay Santa-man,” Maisie cheerfully said.  “We’re here now, and as I understand it, there are cookies for Christmas?”

“Cookies are for celebrating,” Santa said, regret tinging his voice.  “I’m sorry, little one, but a proper feast is only something we can come home to if we achieve victory this day.”

Maisie bowed her head, sniffling at her poor fortune.  “I always get food when I come to the North Pole.”

“It’s alright, Maisie,” Michael said, stepping forward and bending low to scratch behind her neck.  “We’ll help Santa beat Loki, and you’ll have a full belly in no time.”

“Santa, couldn’t we enlist some help from some of the other Aesir?” Rhianna wondered.  “Couldn’t Odin, or Thor, or Hela offer some sort of assistance?”

The Father of Christmas shook his head.  “At this point, I’d think they’d be like to join with Loki.  Imagine not seeing your family for such a long while that…”  His words drifted off then, for both Michael and Rhianna arched their eyebrows and folded their arms across their chests.  “Yes, yes, I suppose that was a poor excuse.  Perhaps I could send a missive, but by the time they receive it, Tellest could be overrun, with all the other worlds soon to follow.”

“I don’t know,” Michael said in a sardonic voice.  “It sounds to me like someone is ashamed they kept their whereabouts and survival a secret.  You know, it’s been over a year since I’ve seen my brother, and I miss him like crazy.  Your family would be overjoyed to hear from you again, even if things have changed after all this time.”

“Perhaps you’re right,” Santa said.  “And it’s an error I shall consider if we manage to push Loki back.  But for now, we must prepare for battle.  Did you see the longboats in the bay?”

“Yep!” Zelda replied.  “They looked like Svetlana boats,” she said, her tail wagging as she recalled her Wintertide friend.

“Then battle is nearly upon us,” Santa insisted.  “On the other side of the bay, the battle will commence.  I’ve sent another fleet of ships on the other side to distract him.  But we’ll attack him from the rear and give him a taste of his own medicine.”

“So, no daring espionage missions into the heart of danger?” Rhianna wondered.

“No sending us hurtling back through time to stop Loki before he gets here?” Michael asked.

“No fiskeblugen?” Peanut asked.  When all eyes landed on her, she furrowed her feline brow, and stood a little straighter.  “What?  Every plan is better with fiskeblugen.”

Santa looked beyond the DeAngelo family then and offered up a whistle to some of his other allies.  “Alas, we don’t have the means to set…most of those plans in motion.  My adopted brother has taken over many of the places we would use to enact any meaningful strategies.  I’m at my wits’ end, and I believe we’ve exhausted all other options.  Therefore, I believe we’ve no better plans than this.”  He gestured with his chin beyond the family.

They turned about to see a group of dwarves hurrying their way with weapons and armor in hand, including armor that would have been far too small for humans to wear.

“Those outfits are much different than the ones we usually get from you,” Michael said.

“Unusual times call for unusual measures,” Santa said.  “War isn’t something that I would typically encourage, but we’ll need every soldier we can get on the front lines.  My only hope is that our magic can be made to serve us well—I don’t want anyone being injured if I can help it.”

“It is Christmas,” Rhianna said.  “No one should be hurt on Christmas.”

Before anyone could offer up even the suggestion of a protest, the dwarves moved into position, helping the recent arrivals into their armor.  The animals, despite being a bit skittish, were wrapped in mythril plate then as well.  The armor was light, but sturdy.  After Michael and Rhianna donned their protective gear, the dwarves handed over an axe to the man, and a shield and spear to the woman.

“Hey, why don’t I get a weapon?” Zelda asked.

“You’ll just have to use your teeth,” a voice they had just grown used to called out.  Ellaria hurried back to the tent, wringing her hands as she drew near.

“My teeth are exclusively designed to chew rawhide,” the little dog grumbled.

Maisie shuffled a little closer to her, struggling just a bit against the buckle of the armor she wore.  “You’re supposed to chew it?” she asked her big sister.

As they discussed their methods of ingesting their treats—and how Maisie believed Zelda was mocking her with how long she took to eat her rawhide—the third animal of the DeAngelo pack was fitted to her own armor.  Peanut, the lightest of the three, had a thin mythril plate situated on her body, and once the dwarves had it covering her, she looked ready for battle.  But as they stepped away from her, everyone in attendance could see that she had gone rigid.  Whereas she normally looked about with fluid movements, she only glanced this way and that with her eyes then.  A moment later, she tipped to the side, her tail sweeping as an indication that she was no longer happy with the plan.

“Peanut, this is no time to go catatonic,” Rhianna teased.

“I don’t need this foolish outfit,” the cat grumbled.

“It’s for your own protection,” Michael said.  “And the dwarves looked like they worked really hard on it, so you be gracious about it.”

“Put it on some other prissy kitten then,” she said.  “Put me on the front lines, Santa.  I’m in the mood for murder.”

All the other members of the DeAngelo family stood a little straighter after that comment, but in taking turns looking at each other, they began to nod in understanding.

“We’re just going to leave her behind this time, aren’t we?” Michael asked.

“We’ll lash her to the mast,” Rhianna said with a chuckle.  “Otherwise there goes your plans for keeping injuries down to a minimum,” she said to the Christmas figurehead.

Santa sighed, and nodded to the dwarves, who removed the armor from the cat.  “We mustn’t waste more time.  I’ll work with Nanna to make sure there’s magic in place that will protect the little ones, even if they don’t wear armor.  And to, uh…make sure that she doesn’t sink her claws too deep into Loki’s troops.”

A horn sounded in the distance, in the direction of the cliff that the DeAngelo family arrived on.

“Best get ready,” one of the dwarves said.

The camp bustled with activity as Santa’s soldiers moved on from their preparations.  The elves and dwarves hurried out of the camp, while the gnomes and the enchanted snowmen took a bit more time to move on their way.

Santa waved his guests on, and together, they made their way outside of the camp proper, and with a wave of Santa’s hand, the hulking golem that stood as its guardian returned to its rocky form.

“We can’t have anyone seeing our battle plans,” Santa said.  “As long as this fellow remains undefeated, the rest of the camp will look like mere rocks as well, even from the sky.”

“That’s a shame,” Michael stated.  “It would have made a good combatant on the battlefield.”

“Sometimes you must fight battles with your wits more than your strength,” their host said.  “Hopefully this surprise attack puts us in a better position to recover our losses.”

“We’ll find ourselves a victory this day,” Rhianna said.  “Christmas and Santa go hand in hand, and because of that, we’ll win through.”

The group made their way through the rocky paths that Ellaria had wound them through earlier.  In some of the especially hilly areas, they could see beyond the outcroppings, to the large stretch of empty space beyond the cliffs, and the sea that stretched out beyond the horizon.  Rather than heading up the path that they had come from upon their arrival, Santa led them on a sharper descent, and before long, they could see the shore, and the longships that would take them across the bay to where the battle would commence.

Still there was quite a way to walk, and not all of them were happy with the travels.

They heard her grunts before they turned to appreciate the great efforts Zelda was making.  She leapt off the ground, and even with the mythril armor upon her back, she managed to jump as high as the humans’ hips.

“Pick me up!” she cried.  “I don’t want to walk anymore!”

Rhianna looked down at the pup, and held her arms out wide, showing off her gear.  “I’m sorry baby girl, but I’ve kind of got my hands full here.”

Michael bent down to a knee and draped his war axe over his shoulder.  With his free hand, he scooped Zelda up, letting her rest against his other shoulder.  “Just be careful,” he said.  “I don’t want you to get a close shave with the axe.”

While they continued, Maisie drew closer to Peanut then, and dared to whisper to her.  “You might be the queen, but she’s definitely a princess.”

The cat couldn’t help but chuckle at that comment.

Finally, the group reached the shore, and followed Santa as he approached one of the nearer longships.  Just like all the boats in his fleet, the figurehead was fashioned to look like a reindeer.  All the ships had different, unique sails that marked them upon the sea, but the one that Santa moved toward looked the most like him.  The sail was fashioned to look red like his suit, with white snowflakes stylizing the look.

“It’s just waiting for us now,” Santa said.  “If you two would help us sail, we’ll reach the other side that much quicker.”

Michael nodded.  “Sorry Zelda, I’m going to have to put you down.”  He placed her on the ship, and she scrambled to a spot she felt more fitting for her.

Rhianna helped as well after she had placed her spear in the boat and set her shield against its side.  One after the other, she assisted the other two animals, though Peanut sprang off her when she felt safe to make the leap.

Michael grabbed his wife’s wrist and rubbed her hand.  “Are you going to be alright?  I know how you do with motion sickness.”

She furrowed her brow and widened her eyes.  “Don’t embarrass me in front of our favorite Christmas wizard,” she bade.

“Ah, but that might soon change,” Santa said, clearly hearing what the woman said.  When his guests turned to regard him, he gestured toward the cliffsides on their side of the bay.

At first, the DeAngelo family thought perhaps they were to look at the cliff where they had entered Tellest that year.  However, it was a bit farther away: a rocky precipice that extended up and out, the sheer drop below frightening indeed.

The person atop it did not seem bothered in the slightest.  The moon shining bright in the sky behind her, they could see a figure wearing the same shade of red as Santa, with an aura of magic surrounding her.

“Is that…?” Rhianna asked, her words trailing off, for she believed she knew the truth of her question before she asked it in full.

“That she is,” Santa confirmed.  “I told her that I’d prefer it if she stayed out of the thick of it tonight.  She has some history with Loki as well, and he may not know that she is from our old world.”

As he spoke, his better half gesticulated, working her magic until the aura that seemed to surround her pitched off toward the bay.  The arcane light coalesced, looking like the northern lights.  As it flowed forth, the sails atop the longships billowed, carrying the vessels forth.  The creaking of wood was the only sound that announced the fleet of Santa’s ships as they traveled toward battle.  The magical ribbons of light moved about until the woman seemed to disappear into the night, as though a swath of clouds had blocked out the moon and the stars only where she once stood.

The ship rocked up and down as the conjured winds propelled them forward.  Santa busied himself by sending quiet orders to the crew. Michael and Rhianna stood side by side upon one of the benches, in their battle gear, with weapons at the ready. Their three animals occupied themselves nearby, as they were too small to see above the antlered wooden figurehead on either side, and the ships rocked back and forth a bit too much for them to venture a glance over the side.

The man stood while propping up his wife as waves of nausea overtook her. “This isn’t a very intimidating look on me, is it?” she groaned.

“What do you mean?” he teased. “I certainly wouldn’t want to face you in battle. Not in lose-your-lunch range, at least.”

She let out a pathetic whine.

“My dear girl, this won’t do at all,” said an elegant voice behind them.

When they turned about, they were surprised by the sight before them.

Santa’s wife had joined them on the ship.  They could now clearly see her features.  She was a handsome woman, with a strong jaw but soft, full cheeks, only slightly touched by the lines of time.  Her long white hair was set in intricate braids near the crown of her head, and the rest flowed lightly in the wind.  Her blood red dress billowed around her, save for the black leather corset and chainmail at her torso.

“I thought you were heading back to the camp to away our return,” Santa remarked.

She raised her eyebrow and folded her arms over her chest.  “Once again, it seems that whenever you grow tense, you forget yourself—and me.  I told you, this confrontation involves me just as much as it does you.  When someone threatens the one that I love, they must deal with me directly.”  Despite her firm stance, she looked at the recent arrivals to Tellest with a smile drawing back her lips.  “Besides, we have friends here that need our help as well.”

She gestured, waving her hands about, and a small white glowing orb appeared.  It floated from between her palms and toward Rhianna’s forehead, the spell bursting into tiny snowflake-like particles under her skin. In an instant, she stood straighter, and color returned to her face.

Her eyes went wide as the motion sickness she fought with since the ship launched dissipated.  “I love you,” Rhianna said, only a hint of sarcasm about her tone.

Santa’s wife arched an eyebrow and smirked.

“Hey!” Michael exclaimed with mock indignity.

“But seriously, thank you,” his wife remarked.  “You’re invited to every family vacation we ever take.  Forever.”

The woman laughed with the same expression they saw on Santa: serious yet kind.

“I shall keep that in mind when the war is won.  It’s been many years since I’ve seen you all, though I suppose not too long since you’ve seen me.”  Michael and Rhianna exchanged looks, recalling their time traveling adventure to the first Christmas.

“Nice to meet you again!” said Zelda brightly. “But…why haven’t we seen you every Christmas?” the small dog inquired, tilting her head.

Nanna smiled down at the pup.  “Christmas is Santa’s business.  I still celebrate the old ways and have my own traditions to keep during the Yule season.

“You mean you don’t spend Christmas together?” Maisie asked, ears lowered.

“Sometimes, but he’s busing working and it bores me.  Yule is a time of feasting and drinking.  We see each other all the other days the rest of the year, but I am by his side when he needs me.  Like this year.  Loki threatens all our traditions with his greed.  We shall not allow it to go unpunished.”

Peanut walked forward and hopped onto the seat directly in front of Nanna. Their eyes locked in an intense stare.

“You,” the cat said.  “I like you.”

The woman nodded.  “You have good taste, my feline friend.”

Suddenly, the ship jolted forward, rendering them all unbalanced, and the ship came to an abrupt halt. Rhianna was thankful once again for the magic that washed away her motion sickness.

Nanna hurriedly made her way back to the front of the ship to assess the danger, passing her husband as she did so.

Santa joined the DeAngelo family on the other side of the mast, leaning over the edge to peer at the waters below.  However, he only saw his reflection looking back at him, depicted within crystalize ice that had formed below.

“Loki,” Santa muttered, the words pouring out like smoke from his lungs, as his hot breath met with the bitter cold.

Santa’s estranged brother used his gifts of cunning to turn the sea to ice that set upon the fleet, stopping them before they could cross the bay.

“I’m c-c-c-old,” Zelda said, her teeth chattering as she shivered.

“I w-w-ish I was under my b-blanket,” added Maisie.

“Santa, what do we do?” Asked Michael.

Rather than reply, Santa looked to the other end of the ship, to his wife, who surveyed the landscape.

Nanna recalled the winds she had conjured, as more of their ships would collide with the large sheets of ice if they pressed onward.  When the wind died down, she evoked silence into the air, and the crew on all the nearby ships were compelled to obey.  Nanna closed her eyes and listened.

She could hear the beating of hooves echoing on the frozen ground in the distance.

“What’s that?” Zelda asked, her head darting from side to side, the poor pup apparently less concerned with the cold then.

“He must have expected such a thing,” Santa said.  “We need to get the ships back to the shore.  “Nanna?”

His wife nodded, and began a new dance with her hands, the coalescent glow drawing forth from the atmosphere until once more it looked like the northern lights hovered around her.  The guests noticed as the sails pushed back the other way, the creaking of the masts reporting across the bay as the ships protested under the pressure.

“Hold it,” Peanut said.  “Wait!”

While Santa looked to the distant shore, and Nanna worked her magic, they were too distracted to see the concerns of the little cat.  Michael and Rhianna turned to regard her instead and peered over the ship to see what she saw.  The ice already circled around their ship, and when they looked to the other vessels of Santa’s fleet, they saw that they too were trapped.

“We can’t hope to batter our way through the ice,” Michael bade.

“That’s right,” Rhianna said.  “It’ll tear through the ships and will end up sinking!”

Santa began to speak, but he saw the trees beyond the bay rustling, and within moments, he saw his adopted brother’s fearsome army.

Mighty frost giants knocked over hulking evergreens on the other side of the bay, while furry white creatures—snow satyrs, the group soon realized—emerged en masse.  While the frost giants waited on the shore, the satyrs ventured to step onto the ice-crusted water, their hoofbeats resonated across the bay.

“Looks like they didn’t want to wait until we reached them,” Michael said.

“Are we going to be okay?” Maisie asked.

“Of course, we will be,” Rhianna said.  “We just need a plan.”

“We can start by getting off the boats,” Michael said.  “It doesn’t do us any good to sit here waiting for them to arrive.”

“You’re right,” Santa said.  “And perhaps we could still make use of them in some fashion.”  As the group scrambled off the ship, Santa bellowed to the rest of his army.  “Everyone, disembark the ships.  We’ll keep the ice strong.”

No one dared to question their leader, and before long, elves and dwarves stood atop the frozen bay, only the distant sea lapping against the ice shelf that was created.  Several of the ships closest to the shore were the ones that the gnomes and snowmen had boarded, and they struggled but eventually scrambled back to land.

Once everyone was out of the ships, Santa worked his own magic.  Before his army’s eyes, the ships rose out of the water, the brackish sea dripping off the hulls.  Imbued with Santa’s magic—the same he had used on Christmas night to give flight to his reindeer for millennia—the ships floated weightlessly in the sky.  The strain, however, to hold a fleet of warships aloft required significantly more power than he had planned to use.  He looked to Nanna, his brow sweating despite the bitter cold. She nodded and worked her own magic to conjure winds back toward the shore. The sails billowed in the forceful breeze as the ships glided above the frozen waters, the fleet appearing to move as if by the force of cresting wave that would never quite crash.

The DeAngelo family watched in awe, but concern, as the fleet sailed away and the army they amassed sat stranded in the middle of the frozen bay, with a stampede of snow satyrs heading their way.

“Santa! You can’t expect us to walk to shore, do you?” Peanut cried with indignity.

Santa grunted his response, the weight of the spell still shaking his usually steady demeanor.

“No,” but I do expect you to hold on.”

“Hold on to what?” Zelda piped up.

At once, it seemed the ice below released a cloud of flurries, as if some invisible breath had blown upon a dandelion and the petals danced in the air. The flurries spun in tightly wound circles until strands of silver rope appeared.  It was then they noticed the elves among the crews, moving their hands as if weaving an intricate tapestry in the air. The family recognized it as the same magic used to bring the snowmen at camp to life. The silver ropes reached out to each member of their Christmas army, as if beckoning them to take hold.

As soon as they connected with the conjured ropes, they were pulled in the direction of the floating ships.

“Hang on tight everyone,” Santa bade.  “We’ll retreat and regroup and—”

“I don’t have enough hands,” Michael said, grabbing hold of Maisie and Peanut while trying to convince Zelda to climb onto his arm.

“Ew, I don’t want to be that close to the dogs,” Peanut said then.  She clawed her way to the man’s shoulder, but before she could even arrive there, Santa worked his magic on them as well.  She floated into the air before she could catch a good grasp on Michael’s furry cloak.

Rhianna grabbed hold of Zelda before she could float away then, though she seemed almost pleased with the weightlessness.  “Yay!” the dog exclaimed.

“Let’s get them back into the lead ship,” Santa said.  “They’re high up enough now that we shouldn’t have to worry about any extra weight pulling them back into the water—or the ice.”  Even as he spoke, the perspiration that marred his brow had his skin shining, and everyone who knew the jolly fellow wondered if he would be able to last long enough to make it back to the clandestine camp.

Michael kissed Maisie on the forehead, and lifted her into the air, letting Santa’s airy magic take her too.  Peanut had already grabbed hold of the rearmost reindeer figurehead on the flagship, and it was as though she matched with vessel’s altered gravity then.  As Maisie floated on by, the cat sighed, and reached out, grabbing hold of the pup—even making sure not to use her claws too liberally.

Rhianna, seeing the success with which her other two fuzzy babies made it to the longship pushed back her anxiety and relinquished her hold on Zelda.  Within a second though, she grabbed hold of her again, squeezing extra tight.

“Mom,” the dog protested.  “Come on, I love flying!”

That time, Rhianna did let the pup go, and she lifted into the air.  Peanut didn’t offer her help that time, hopping down onto one of the benches.  Maisie was ready, however, and she reached out and chomped hold of her sister’s auburn fluff, pulling her into the ship.

“Remember everyone, hang on!” Santa said.  As he spoke, the snow-silken ropes the elves fashioned looped around the figureheads of the ships, binding the troops to the vessels.

But not everything would go according to their new plan, it seemed.  As the snow satyrs drew close, they did not gather up their weapons—axes and spears stored on their backs, Michael noticed.  Instead, they reached for a tool that nearly all of them had on their hips, but from that distance, none of Santa’s army or his guests could quite make them out.

When they set them spinning and then launched them in the air, it didn’t take long for them to realize what they were then.

A score of grappling hooks flew out over the bay, reporting as they landed on the ships with thuds and scrapes.

“They’re trying to steal the ships!” one of the nearby dwarves cried out.

Despite the ambush, the struggles, and the fear, a new power was heard on the impromptu battlefield then.

“Not with my babies inside,” Rhianna growled.  She grabbed hold of one of the silken strings that connected her to the longship and wrapped it around her spear.  She pulled at once, and only a moment later, Michael was beside her, helping her to tug the ship back.

Inspired by the recent arrivals to the North Pole, all of Santa’s troops rushed to move as well, some throwing axes across the battlefield, their weapons meeting the satyrs, but failing to cause any real damage, for a fluttering red shield seemed to push back against the attack.  Still, it was enough to have some of them stumbling back, grunting in their goatlike language.  The other dwarves and some of the elves tugged on the silken lines, trying their best to ensure their vessels were not lost.

For a time, neither of the two sides seemed to gain any ground.  Then Michael’s eyes went wide, and he grabbed hold of the spear a bit tighter.

“I have an idea everyone!” he called out.  “If we all lean back, we’ll be able to shift our gravity, and gain the upper hand.  I’m pretty sure I’ve seen something like this before.  It’ll definitely work!”

He performed as he said he would, leaning back until his upper body was almost parallel to the icy surface.

Surprisingly, his suggestion seemed to work, and he gained a little more momentum when he tugged on the boat that held their fluffy babies inside.

“Woo!” Maisie cried in excitement.

“Go, Daddy!” Zelda cheered him on.

Everyone was surprised when a jagged grappling hook sailed across the sky, aiming right for Michael.  With the man leaned back as he was, he couldn’t spot the thing coming.

Rhianna gasped, and reached up, but it came forth too fast.  She knew that she would be too slow to stop it.

It did halt, however, smacking against a blue shield that fluttered just the way the satyr’s had earlier.  Michael spilled to the ground though, the magic not doing enough to stop the full force of the missile, though it was enough to prevent any sort of true danger.

He shook his head, and spotted Santa, not so far away from him then.

“I will not lose anyone this day,” their host insisted.

Michael’s eyes were still opened wide by the sudden attack, the man wondering what would have happened if Santa’s magic was not there to protect him.  The look of surprise quickly turned to one of intense determination, and he stood up again, grabbing hold of the spear once more.  He glanced at his wife, and gave a nod, pulling with all his strength yet again.  That time, his emotions fueled him even more, and he could feel himself gaining ground, even with the slippery ice beneath them.

The snow satyrs—looking more goatlike than a typical satyr would—grunted and groaned, and even though they had cloven hooves that offered them traction on the iced over lake, they knew that there was little hope to press on against Santa’s army.  As they were drawn closer toward the gaps in the ice where the boats had once been trapped, they abandoned their hold on the grappling hooks, and began their own retreat toward the opposite shore.

“That’s right,” a voice called out over the region, otherworldly and powerful.  “You’ve broken their spirits, but it is time to regroup.”

Both armies retreated from the ice then, a bit winded, but otherwise unscathed.  The satyrs skittered across the bay, withdrawing into the forest as the frost giants loomed.  Once all their allies had made their way to safety, they too departed, their bluish skin disappearing beyond a cover of green and white.

On the other side, dwarves, elves, and gnomes finally caught their breath, trying their best not to show any weakness.  Michael and Rhianna still pulled their longboat, even with Santa assuring them they were all safe.

“We don’t mean to offend you,” Rhianna said.  “But we sort of make it a point not to leave anything to chance if we know better.”

Santa shrugged and nodded.  “You’re right of course.  We’ll be winded anyway, but we might as well be safe.  Loki’s frost giants are powerful enough to launch an attack even from this distance.”

Nanna reached her husband’s side then and grabbed his wrist.  “Let’s head back to the camp, and we’ll see if there’s something else that we can do to take back our home from your brother.”

*          *          *

With the adrenaline subsiding, sore muscles and aches and pains could be felt a bit clearer then.  Michael rolled his shoulders and rubbed his chest where the grappling hook had smacked against the shield.

Everyone had gathered under the massive tent their leader had back at the camp.  While Santa and his wife were present, there were only a few delegates of each of his other factions who waited inside.  And then, there were his guests.

Rhianna squeezed each of their little ones extra tight, the thought of anything bad happening to them leaving her with a pit in her stomach.

“I thought I had everything figured out,” Santa said, pressing his fingers against his temples.  “I guess it goes to show, you can’t deceive someone such as him.  He’s the god of mischief, after all, and deception goes along with that in some ways.”  He sighed and sank into an old oaken throne near a war table that showed the region.  Nanna was there behind him at once, gripping his shoulder.  “I’m afraid this might be the first year in quite some time that there won’t be any Yuletide celebrations,” the oft-jolly man admitted.  “No Wintertide or Christmas either.”

“We can’t give up yet,” Michael said, springing forward as though no pain or fatigue wracked his body.  “There’s still plenty of time between now and Christmas.  We just have to come up with a plan that Loki wouldn’t be able to get in front of.”

“That’s right,” Rhianna agreed.  “He knows how you think, even after all these years.  What you need is someone who would be able to make plans that you wouldn’t.  Let us be your advisors this year.”

Santa looked to his wife, who shrugged and nodded.  “What better plans do we have, my love?” she asked.  “What did you have in mind,” she wondered.

“Well,” Michael said, “I think we need—”

“Reinforcements!” Zelda offered up.

Maisie was there beside her though, shaking her head.  “No, no… We need superpowers!”

Before anyone could indicate whether either of those were good ideas, another voice piped up.

“You’re all fools,” Peanut said, looking at each of her claws as she flexed them.  “What we truly need…is chaos.”

Everyone sent confused glances her way, and she rolled her eyes and shook her head before hopping up to the war table.  “Think about it.  Loki is always going to be one step ahead of us, even if he doesn’t know us that well just yet.  He’s always got some kind of contingency.  But what he doesn’t have a plan for is absolute lunacy.  He wouldn’t expect a plan that wasn’t well-founded, so let’s find a plan that stinks!”

“First, we need the dwarves and elves to stop making weapons and armor and start making fiskeblugen!”

“Peanut, how can you be hungry at a time like this?” Rhianna wondered.

“It’s all part of the plan,” the cat insisted.  “No one will expect it.  We take the smelly stuff,” she said, moving her paw to the side to better enunciate her proposal, “and then we cover me in it.”  When no one seemed to be impressed with her idea, she sighed and rolled her eyes.  “I’m a misunderstood artist, born well before my time.  But it’s perfect.  The smell could attract all sorts of attention.”

Michael and Rhianna looked at one another, considering the disorderly wisdom of that notion.  Neither said a word, but they could see in their spouse’s eyes that they saw not only the possibility of the plan working, but also the fun that could be had in pursuing it.

“This could work,” Santa said, rising to his feet.  “And moreover, we could still consider the other little ones and their plans as well.”  He looked to Zelda and nodded.  “I think it’s about time we say hello to some old friends.”  He cast his gaze to Maisie next.  “And as I recall, you have some experience with magical artifacts, don’t you?”

Maisie sat up a little taller, as close to a canine smile on her face as was possible.

“Let’s not dawdle then,” the red-attired man bade.  His jolly demeanor had returned, and he approached the war table with an eager grin upon his face.

*          *          *

Though she was not alone, Zelda felt a bit of anxiety at the lingering thoughts of her family being so far away.  They all had their roles to play though, she knew, and soon she would end up being the hero of the day.

By her side, two elves—including the one named Ellaria that she had met after coming through the portal into Tellest—traveled along with her, leveling their bows in case anyone was considering a devious attack on the little pup.  The forest was dense, and trouble could lurk behind any shadowy thicket.

Far beyond where they were, they could hear a strange sort of grunting groan, and the elves drew back their bowstrings, prepared to fight off any monsters that would have been hiding in the woods.  As warm as it was under the coniferous trees, hardly any snow was able to coat the forest floor.  Whatever creatures there were would be camouflaged without the white canvas behind them.

“It’s just a little further, right?” the little, red-furred dog asked.  “If Santa was right about the clearing, we’ll be able to see better in a few more minutes.”

“The northern wilds are not to be taken lightly,” Ellaria told the pup.  “A few more minutes might be all the time we have before something unspeakable happens.”

Zelda gasped.  “You won’t run out of bones, right?”

The elf arched an eyebrow at the dog, confused by such speak.  “What foul curse do you speak of?  Do your bones dissipate back on your world?”

“What?” Zelda asked.  “What’s a dissipate?”

Ellaria waved her hand in frustration.  “Never mind.  The only thing I’m concerned about regarding my bones is making sure they’re not crushed by whatever monsters are out there.”

Zelda snorted, the intentional gesture almost looking like a sneeze.  “Whatever dangers are out there my friend can take care of it.  When I talked to Santa, he said they’re the only one brave enough to live here in the clearing.”

“Then she’s brave indeed,” Ellaria declared.

When the pair of elves and the little dog emerged from the woods, it took some time to make sense of the clearing before them.  A light fog spread over the area, seeming to rise from the lake in the center of the otherwise snowy expanse.  The moon shone down over the mist, illuminating it in an eerie glow.  The moon reflected in the still water of the lake as well, though the fog played odd tricks on its likeness.

The group heard another strange grunt, but that time, it was followed by an immense roar, prompting Zelda to send a wide-eyed gaze toward Ellaria.  “Are there dinosaurs here?”

Returning the dog’s gaze with a quizzical one of her own, Ellaria shrugged.  “You and I have very dissimilar breadths of knowledge little one.  I don’t even know the word you just used.”

“To be honest, I don’t really know it much either,” the dog said.  “But I know it sounds just like that!”

“That wasn’t…whatever you said it was,” Ellaria insisted.  “It was a—”

Before she could say another word, the fog cleared just enough for them to see the white-furred creature bound across the area.  The elf behind Ellaria gasped and sprinted back toward the tree line, even though the monster didn’t seem to aim toward them.

“Coward,” the maiden said as she reached for an arrow in her quiver.  That arrow seemed to be a bit different than the other ones she had, for the tip was colored crimson.  She nocked it to her bow and drew back the string.  “Are you ready to see what foul beast haunts this clearing?” Ellaria asked.  She released the bowstring and watched it fly into the air.  The red phosphorous activated from the speed of the arrow careening across the sky, and when it did, it illuminated the clearing further, even scattering the fog somewhat—a little bit of Christmas magic, Zelda was certain.

As visibility improved, the pair who stood their ground in the field watched as the white-furred creature kept up its charge, charging at first on its hind legs like a human before teetering forward and bounding on all fours.  Zelda, even from her lower vantage point, was the first to see the reason they had come to the clearing.

The moonlight caught on the reindeer’s head and antlers as the light of the red phosphorus dispersed.  She stood for a moment, finishing whatever grass she grazed on that she had found in patches amidst the fine layer of snow.  When she was done, she reared up and swung her head, answering the monster’s mighty charge.  She never hesitated, beginning to rush forward as soon as her front hooves landed on the ground again.

“Svetlana,” Zelda said, just reining in her emotions before she would have called out a greeting to her friend.  She knew that there were dangers ahead for the reindeer, and that any distraction could be trouble.

Ellaria pulled another arrow from her quiver, but Zelda hopped up on her hind legs.

“No,” the little dog insisted.  “You might hit Svetlana.”

The maiden grumbled a bit, but knew the dog was right.  She looked back to the tree line, where she spotted her frightened companion, and shook her head, gesturing not to attack.  He didn’t seem willing to even draw his bow anyway, the fellow cowering behind one of the evergreens.

The braver pair watched with bated breath as the two creatures continued their rush toward one another.  They dropped their heads, prepared to butt skull against skull.  A loud crack echoed in the clearing, sending a few of the birds who were bathing in the warm lake fluttering into the sky.

Zelda hopped up again, eager to see what happened.  Standing on her hind legs, she was able to see the white-furred creature topple backward, dazed before it even struck the ground.  Svetlana shook her head, for certainly the blow did not come without some minor discomfort.

With her mouth hanging agape, Ellaria blinked away her surprise.  “She knocked that yeti down with a single strike.”

“That’s because Svetlana is amazing,” Zelda said, hurrying forward as soon as her feet hit the ground.

Ellaria’s focus was on the withdrawing yeti, then.  The creature knew better than to challenge the spectacular reindeer, and it cleared out from the area, rubbing its head with its leathery blue hand.

When Ellaria was certain an attack wasn’t coming, she looked down to her where she had last seen her companion, confused by her absence.  She adjusted her vision then, spotting the mutt charging across the field as well.  And the elven maiden wasn’t the only one who had noticed her.

Svetlana began a charge of her own as well.

With her eyes going wide, Ellaria stuttered before offering a warning to one of Santa’s esteemed guests.  But it was too late.  Zelda cared not for any cautioning.

The reindeer dropped her head again, her antlers close to gouging the ground.  Zelda, too, bowed down, as though she was waiting for the inevitable strike.

But the pair skidded to a stop when they drew close, nuzzling their heads against one another instead of striking a violent blow.

“I’ve missed you!” Zelda cried.

Svetlana grunted in turn, and snorted when she rose back to her tall, proud position.

“Well, I know that,” the dog responded, seeming to understand the reindeer.  “But I’m only allowed to come to the North Pole once a year.  You could just come to our house, couldn’t you?  Don’t you fly?”

The majestic creature made a sound that seemed akin to a bark, and Zelda could sense her frustration.

“Okay, sorry.  You don’t have to be all upset about it.  I can’t fly either—except for that one time.”  She blew air out through her nose, which prompted her to sneeze then.  “We’ll work out the logistics of more playdates later.  That’s not why I came here today.  Santa needs your help.”

Svetlana tilted her head to the side, a bit intrigued by the statement.

“There’s trouble down south, and we could really use your talents to help our friend out.”

The reindeer stared past the dog then, noticing the elven maiden a bit further back in the clearing.

“Oh, her?” Zelda asked.  “That’s just Ellaria.  She’s one of Santa’s friends as well.  She didn’t think you were real, but I showed her.”  The pup spun about in a circle, excited that she was able to prove her traveling companion wrong.  “So, what do you say?  Are you going to be able to help us?”

Svetlana seemed to grumble and began drawing away from Zelda.  That time, the pup didn’t seem to understand her old friend, for it was her turn to tilt her head in confusion.

“What did I say?” Zelda wondered.  “I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings!”

The reindeer headed toward the tree line on the opposite side of the clearing, and Zelda was fast on her hooves, trying to make sense of what was causing the legendary reindeer to turn her back on their mutual friend.

“We’re going to be in big trouble,” Zelda said.  “We need all the help we can get, and I was just telling everyone how cool you were!”

Svetlana turned around, facing the lake, and blew out a deep breath, the air turning to steam in front of her snout.  Then, she sent out a series of loud, sustained grunts, stomping her feet on the frosty grass with a cadence that sounded deliberate.  Once more, Zelda tried to understand her but to no avail.  Even without understand the specific nuances of Svetlana’s noise choices, Zelda and Ellaria understood just a few moments later what the delay had been for.

A score of other reindeer emerged from the forest, the animals joining their leader there without fear of the visitors.

“You’re all going to help?” Zelda wondered.

Svetlana responded with a series of quick nods, before she dipped her head and turned to the side, offering up her antlers.

“Hurray!” Zelda replied.  She grabbed hold of one of the antlers then, and Svetlana lifted her head and pivoted around, delivering the mutt to her back.  “To Santa!” Zelda cried.  “Let’s save Christmas, and beyond!”

*          *          *

The burly, squat fellow rested his arms on his knees, and it took everything in him not to spill to the ground while he accidentally leaned forward.

“I don’t know how you do it,” the dwarf mused.  “It’s like you never get tired.”

Maisie offered up a canine shrug, the muscles in her back flexing for a moment.  “I think it’s from when I swallowed the gem two years ago.  I get worn down a little bit, but it’s only when I stop doing something that I realize running is a lot of work!”

“Well, could you tone it down just a bit,” her traveling companion asked.  “You’re making me look bad.”

“Maybe we can borrow a sleigh and I can pull you up the mountain,” Maisie teased.

During their journey toward their destination, the dog learned that the dwarf, Kjotvi, was a distant descendant of Litr, Santa’s friend who had joined he and Nanna on their pilgrimage to Tellest.  While Maisie had never seen the celebrated dwarf, she could tell by Kjotvi’s enthusiasm that Litr had earned great renown among their people, and indeed most of the communities of Tellest’s North Pole.  Whenever Kjotvi felt run down or worried, he invoked the name of his relative, and pushed on.

And so it was as they pushed past the latest snowy hillock.

“You know, the last time I was here, it felt a bit darker,” Maisie explained.  “With the big ol’ moon in the sky, it’s like I’m looking at something brand new.  I’m going to need you to start to lead the way soon.”

“Aye, I’ll handle it,” Kjotvi insisted.  “Just need some of that little DeAngelo dog energy.”

Maisie forced a sneeze then.  “Trust me, it’s not both of us,” the little dog said with an air of superiority.  “Zelda gets all sleepy after a five-minute walk.  She begs to be picked up!”

“Maybe I should have traveled with the other one,” the dwarf muttered.

“What was that?” the pup asked.

Kjotvi just stared for a moment, but realized he’d been found out.  “What, did that little rock give you super hearing as well?”

“Nope, that’s all me,” Maisie said, resuming her trek.  “It helps to know when someone’s crunching on food and trying to be sneaky.”  She stopped suddenly, her head darting from side to side.

“Did you hear someone eating a cookie or something just now?” Kjotvi wondered.

Maisie shook her head.  “I think we’re here.  This was the cave I found when everyone was yelling at me.  Phew, that journey felt longer for some reason this time.”

“And you think we’ll find who we’re looking for in there?” the dwarf asked.

“If Santa says it, it’s got to be true.”  She led the dwarf inside, taking her time to move about, as the moonlight was only strong enough to illuminate the first few feet of the cavernous tunnel.

As she went through the darkened passageway, Maisie couldn’t help but smile.  Some marks remained in the cavern: the scratches and bites that she had nervously left upon the walls and beams so long ago.  She had come a long way since then—still reacting to stress in her own way, but she knew that had made great progress, and nothing was going to cause her any undue grief again.

With Kjotvi close behind her, the pup’s ears perked up then, and the dwarf knew it was more than just a passing thing at that point.

“Is everything alright?” he wondered.

Maisie nodded, though she hunched a little lower, just in case.  “I hear voices.  But they’re…”  As her words trailed off, she sprang up, and her tail wagged excessively.  “They’re familiar!”  She sprinted ahead, leaving the dwarf to stumble after her.

Before long, the pair of them found lantern light spilling into the tunnel, and they heard the mirthful voices of those who inhabited the cavern at that time.

“Well, my ears aren’t all that good,” Kjotvi said.  “But I’ve got a big ol’ nose that works better than most, and that’s a delightful holiday feast if I’ve ever smelled it.”

“Just like last time,” the dog said, her tail wagging so fast it looked like it could lift her off the ground.

The pair entered the large chamber of the cavern, which had been decorated to be far more festive than the last time the pup had been there.  Garland was strewn from the ceiling, and the walls had been painted in striking colors.  A small table had been set out, brimming with food—and then a larger one not far from it with enough food to feed a giant.  Coincidentally, a giant reached for a mammoth rib before he spotted the surprise visitors.

“Maisie?” his deep voice resonated.

“Rurnar!” the dog excitedly exclaimed.

“My friends,” the giant said, gathering up the attention of the elf and the dwarf who mingled in the cavern.  “Look who has just joined us!”

Maisie’s eyes went a little wider at the sight of two more of her old friends.  “Halgrum!  Beroras!  I hadn’t expected to see you here.”

The elf dropped to a knee and spread his arms out wide, ready to accept a hug from the little dog.  “My, it’s good to see you,” he said.  “We began a yearly tradition after our little feast years ago.  We come together before Christmas to celebrate our friendship.  We even read about your family’s exploits throughout the year.  Santa sends us a missive every once and a while.”

Maisie gasped.  “You didn’t hear about those other holidays we celebrate, did you?”  She hopped down from the fellow’s leg and gave him a very solemn look from the top of her eyes.  “Zelda cheats during the egg hunt, I’m sure of it!”

“We hear a little bit of everything, little one,” Beroras said.  “But mostly we hear how much the five of you love each other, and how you’ve been keeping each other sane and happy during this tumultuous time in your world.  I have to say, I thought it was difficult in the harsh, cold north here.  You endure much.  But now is not the time for somber thoughts.  We should rejoice, for you’ve come to visit!”

“I dun know about that,” the dwarf said, shuffling forward while holding his arm across his belly.  Halgrum arched an eyebrow, the other bushy bit of fur on above his other eye lowering enough to have the dog wondering if he’d blinded himself.  “As I recall it, this one might just eat everything we’ve got on our plates, and then some.”  He patted his stomach then, demonstrating that it was quite distended then.  “Then again, mayhaps I’ve already had me fill.”  He let a little chuckle separate his lips then, and he tousled the fur on the back of Maisie’s head and neck.  “It’s good to have ye here, Maisie.  Although I suspect ye’re not here on your own—without the rest of yer family, that is,” he said, offering a little bow to the unfamiliar dwarf.  “There must be trouble brewing, eh?”

“More than you know,” Maisie said.  “We came here because we need your help.  This is one of the greatest challenges that Santa’s ever faced, and he—well, we—thought we could call in a few favors.”

Beroras folded his arms over his chest then.  “You came here specifically for Rurnar, didn’t you?”  He smirked, only slightly offended by his suspicion.

“Well, the bad guys have giants of their own,” Maisie explained.  “Big, mean blue ones!”

“Frost giants,” Kjotvi clarified then.  “Every now and then they venture to our realm, and we chase them off, but we’ve never seen them in such grand numbers before.”

“I’ve never seen the likes of ye before,” Halgrum said.  “How are we ta know ye haven’t led this poor little pup astray?”

“Hey!” Maisie grumbled.  “I’m bigger and smarter than I was before.  Kjotvi was there with us in Santa’s tent.  I trust him, which means you can too!”

“Easy there, Tiny,” a more powerful voice bellowed from further back in the opening of the cavern.  Rurnar bent forward, letting his powerful gaze fall upon the little dog.  “You don’t have the magic powers that the amulet once bestowed upon you.”  He turned his shoulder, the trio of revelers looking up at the decorations then.  Sure enough, the amulet from the feast two years earlier hung from the apex of the cavern, the reflecting torchlight sending sparkles scattering upon the stone walls.  “You’ll see we’re a little cooler and more collected this time.  Over the last couple of years, we’ve learned to take a breath, and plan things out.

“So…” the giant went on, his solitary syllable sounding artificially dragged out.  “Are you taking care of that blanket I gave you?  You didn’t end up eating that, too, did you?”

“I don’t do that anymore,” Maisie grumbled.

“Would you like to?” Rurnar asked.  He reached up and grabbed the amulet, bringing it closer to the dog.

The scrappy black and white pup was mesmerized by the jewel once more, the sparkles reflecting in her eyes.  She licked her lips and sniffed at the amulet.

“Is…uh… Is everything okay?” Kjotvi asked.

Without consciously considering his words, Maisie began to nod.  “I know what to do,” she whispered.

*          *          *

A strange drumbeat resonated through the icy canyon; the few dwarves stationed at the maw blew out nervous breaths that turned to steam the second they left their lips.  They watched in anxious anticipation as the gnomes’ contraptions were put to the test.  The cat that oversaw the operation, on the other hand, paced between the dwarves, and paused every few moments to stare down the icy corridors that she remembered from so long before.

“How goes your progress?” Peanut asked then.  “We can’t wait too much longer.  As much as I am loathe to admit it, I would be slightly perturbed if anything happened to any of my family.”  Her eyes darted from one dwarf to the other then.  “I mean, uh… Who would feed me if anything were to happen to them?  And as for the dogs, well… They somehow elicit more sympathy from the humans, and that benefits me as well.”  She clicked her tongue then and turned back to regard the dwarves.  “I asked you a question!” she grumbled.

A gnome upon a dais overlooking the central contraption froze, looking through oversized spectacles to the vexed puss.  “Miss,” he said, feeling foolish for uttering the pleasantry, “as silly as it may seem, this plan requires pinpoint precision.  We must be utterly cautious, otherwise the whole thing could be folly.  And moreover, there would be somewhat greater consequences,” he said, wrinkling his nose as the thought.

Everyone looked to the other two gnomes that traveled with the group.  The pair wore far less festive attire, each wearing what looked like an oversized diving bell atop their heads, with a thick pane of glass separating them from the outside world.  They worked a set of levers on large vats beside the central contraption, mixing some foul concoction with tremendous labor.

It was backbreaking work, especially for the diminutive people.  Strange, foreign sounds seemed to emit from the gnomes’ suits.  They grunted and groaned and forced out fretful breaths as they worked fervently, knowing that their patron saint of winter—as well as their excessive commander, for the moment—would be satisfied if the plan was a success.

“Come on then,” Peanut meowed.  She sat upon her rump in the snow, hopping up for a second more before she could acclimate to the sudden discomfort.  Then she looked at the lead gnome with an angry scowl upon her face.  “Overseer Ulgifda, is it?  What’s taking so long?  I thought the stuff was ready to dispense.”

“Ready to transport,” the gnome known as Ulgifda clarified.  “But the rest of the gadget won’t work if we hurry things before they’re ready.  You know we cobbled this together as quick as we could, but we don’t want to take unnecessary risks.”

Peanut growled, sounding more like a feral savannah cat than a lazy housecat.  She looked to the dwarves then, who stood a little taller after catching her gaze.

“You two, who cares about the drums.  Help these two to mix what’s in there so we can get things moving a little quicker, eh?”

The drummers ceased their drumming, looking to each other with concern upon their faces.  The one had his head turned just far enough that Peanut could see the prominence in his throat sink, no longer disguised by his beard.

“If something happens to my family because you were lollygagging…” she said, the cat’s concern somehow quite apparent.  All at once, all the false confidence, the abrasiveness, the smugness, it melted away, leaving the old cat looking weary and worried instead.

Seeing the guise shift, even abrupt as it was, the dwarves were filled with new determination.  They set their drums down, and hurried to the side of the gnomes, helping their associates to turn the cranks that mixed the concoctions inside the vats.

“That’s it,” Ulgifda declared.  “We’re almost there.  Just a little bit more.”  He wrapped his fingers around a handle upon the dashboard of the contraption before making eye contact with the frustrated cat.  “Miss Peanut.  It’s ready.”

“Throw the switch,” the cat insisted.  “We’re ready.”

With a nod, the gnome foreman did what was expected of him, pulling back the lever that activated the central device.  At once, the vats began churning, sending their questionable contents through tubes into the main contraption.  With atypical fuel finally flowing, the device unlocked, and a huge mechanical arm swung up from the opposite side of the control panel.  A circular disc expanded from that arm, some sort of magical technology growing out from the metal chassis.  Blades extended from the disc then as well, and in only a few short moments, they began spinning, the gnome technology operating without any issues.

Peanut sat in front of the fan, a mischievous grin upon her face.  But as the blades spun faster and faster, a strange scent washed over the area.  The cat’s grin turned from one of impish intentions to an almost euphoric smile then as the fiskeblugen wafted forward.

While the two gnomes with the diving bell helmets were able to push past the potent odor, the two dwarves and the gnomish overseer could not escape it.  Ulgifda retched, nearly spilling the contents of his stomach into the snow.

“Trying to make room in your bellies for this delicious stuff?” Peanut teased.  “Well, I’m afraid this batch isn’t meant for you few.”

Almost as soon as she finished speaking, a drawer in the central contraption opened with a mechanical hiss, steam shooting off into the cold early morning air.  The cat stepped forward, looking at the central vat of pickling compound.  She took a deep breath then, enraptured by the scent, even while the dwarves, grabbed up their beards and smushed them against their noses in a futile attempt to escape the pungent smell.

Peanut and her companions were not the only ones to detect the overpowering smell then, she knew.  Behind her, the canyon walls shook, shards of ice collapsing and shattering down below, a strange cacophonic symphony playing along the towering frigid corridor.

The cat turned to her allies then.  “That’s the sign that our plan is working.  Go on, run,” she said.  “I’ll be right behind you.”

Thankful to give their stomachs a break, the dwarves and the gnomes withdrew as planned.  Peanut, left alone, sat down again, taking in the sounds, the vibrations, and indeed the hardy smell of the fiskeblugen—along, she knew, with something else.

“Thank you for your help, Revan,” the cat whispered, remembering the assistance she received from one of Santa’s elven helpers.  The maiden was a wonderful alchemist, and when Peanut’s insane plan was revealed to her, she was more than happy to lend a hand.  “Well then,” the cat said, her quiet voice carrying into the canyon, “let’s give them something to chase, shall we?”

And with that, Peanut hopped into the smelly vat of liquid.

*          *          *

Michael and Rhianna peered over the rocky outcropping, sneaking a peek at Santa’s alchemical lab—as well as the pair of Loki’s satyr sentries who watched over the door of the building.

“You’re sure he’s in there?” the woman asked her husband.

Furrowing his brow, Michael turned to regard Rhianna.  “I’m not certain of anything.  But if Santa says that Raskagar is in there, that’s where we’re going to go.  He’s integral to the plan, and—”

“Peanut’s plan,” Rhianna interrupted.

“Yes, Peanut’s plan,” Michael repeated, understand the inanity of the statement.  “But there’s some logic to the illogical…ness, of it.  Let’s just hope Santa’s intel was correct, and we didn’t waste our time getting here.”

“Let’s hope we don’t get captured or killed,” Rhianna added.

“Ye of little faith,” Michael said then, a confident grin appearing on his face.  “You think we’ve got anything to worry about with this big guy on our side?”  He absentmindedly slapped the rocky outcropping then, activating the magic that was present there.

All at once, the stones barreled forward, rumbling the ground around the alchemy lab.  The satyr sentries discovered too late that the boulders tumbled their way and let out a pair of sad little bleats before they were sent flying, cast away from the doors they guarded.  The boulders—all bunched together, and connected by magic—rolled on uninhibited, until they struck the two oak doors, slamming them open.  The collection of stone finally rolled back, and as it did, it reformed into the huge golem it was—the same one that had once protected Santa’s camp.

“Okay, that’s never happened before,” Michael said, a little embarrassed from activating their magical guardian prematurely.

The golem looked on at the two humans it was sent to protect, the apertures in its crafted head glowing green as it gazed upon Michael and Rhianna.  It lifted its right arm then, the limb altered before they had left the clandestine camp on their various missions.  Instead of an articulate hand, the equivalent of a stone cannon was fashioned there.

Michael’s eyes went wide as the golem’s eyes turned a pale red, and it leveled its weapon at them.

With a mighty foom, the cannon fired, and a projectile came soaring toward the pair of humans.  Rhianna tugged her husband to the side, though it seemed as if the white missile was bound to pass right by them anyway.

The hardened snowball whizzed by them, and struck an encroaching satyr in its chest, sending it tumbling backward.

“Well, that was terrifying,” Rhianna said.  “But it’s got our backs, it seems.  There’s no better time than now to get into that building.”

“Let’s go,” Michael said, pulling his wife over the small hillock and toward the alchemy lab.

They could hear other members of Loki’s army drawing near, and sure enough the golem fired forth more projectiles.  Just as before, a loud report rang out before a grunt or a groan or a bleat followed suit.

The couple moved along, sprinting across the area, and slipping around the massive stone creature’s side.  As they passed by, they could see the magic that afforded it its chilly ammunition.  The snow that coated the area outside of the alchemy lab rose from the ground in ghostly wisps, almost as though the golem breathed it in through grooves along its back.

“It’s a good thing the ground here is mostly snow, huh?” Michael mused, ushering his wife past their guardian before they slipped into the building.

“Keep up the good work!” Rhianna cried.

As Michael and Rhianna disappeared inside, the golem kept up its work, firing off snowy missiles at the satyrs and even a frost giant that had appeared.  Its eyes turned green then, however, as the first few blades of grass appeared beneath the many layers of frost.

The satyrs noticed the slowing speed of the golem’s firing and hurried to overrun it.

But they realized at once, that when those eyes turned green again, it was only temporary.

As the creature inhaled enough snow to launch another array of snowballs, its eyes turned red.  Some of the satyrs knew better than to move when it had locked onto a target, but others who drew close believed they could pass by it.

They thought wrong.

One after the other, the satyrs were seen by the golem, and its eyes turned red.  Only those who were clever enough to stop were spared from a solid snowball in the chest or between the eyes.

The guardian had earned Santa’s champions some time.

Inside the alchemy lab, it was far quieter—for a time.  The entrance was devoid of any signs of Loki’s army, or those denizens of the North Pole who performed their work ahead of the upcoming holiday.  But as Michael and Rhianna delved deeper into the building—a strange amalgamation of rudimentary architecture blended with gnomish craftsmanship—mechanical hissing rang out and was soon joined by a deeper bubbling sound.

“What do you think that is?” Rhianna wondered.

Michael shrugged.  “You know there’s all kinds of magic that makes Christmas possible.  There’s potions and salves and even fuel for some of Santa’s gadgets.  I’m surprised this place is still running if the folks here have been taken prisoner though.”

“It just goes to show you how dedicated they all are to making sure people have a wonderful holiday,” Rhianna mused.  “And I suppose it means they believe Santa will win through in the end.”

Michael took that hope and that faith and internalized it.  He grabbed hold of his axe in one hand and interlaced the fingers of his other hand with those of his wife, and they continued along, as silent as they could be.

It only took another few moments before they saw a warm light spill into the central corridor of the building.  The quiet was gone though, with a harsh voice carrying through an open door.

“Tell me what I want to know, and I’ll let you walk out this stinking building of your own accord,” someone growled.  “But defy me again, and the only way you’ll leave this place is if someone carries you.  No?  Very well then.”

Rhianna gulped but tightened her grip on her spear and shield.  She looked to her husband and nodded.  “We came here to help Santa’s friends and the people that bring joy to others every year, right?  Let’s help whoever is in trouble.”

Michael breathed out an anxious sigh of his own, but did as his wife suggested, stepping forward, into the light.

His next breath was caught in his throat when he spotted a gnome that looked as though he was about to be squashed between two panes of glass.  That was not his fate, however.  A grizzled, old satyr stood atop a platform, his hand on a lever.  He pulled it down, and a burst of what looked like steam erupted from the mechanisms above where the gnome was trapped.

Joining her husband there at the entrance to the room, Rhianna watched on in horror as the gnome cried out, for whatever flowed through the pipes in the room began pouring out into his glass cage.  Wisps of smoke came out of the nozzle from which the dark brown liquid churned.  But it wasn’t the scalding hot stuff it appeared to be.  The gnome pressed his face against the glass, his big nose and bulging eyes leaving him with a ridiculous visage for the moment before he realized that there were other visitors in the alchemy lab, and quite unlike those in Loki’s army.

The gnome couldn’t consider it very long before his glass case filled up over his head.  A moment later, the glass panes sank into the floor, along with the cross pieces at their edges.  The gnome remained fixed in place, trapped within a giant chocolate bar.

“It didn’t have to be this way,” the satyr said then.  “All you had to do was tell me where Santa’s camp is.”

“I know where Santa’s camp is,” a high-pitched voice rang out into the room then.  Rhianna stepped forward and stood taller, willing herself to be brave in the face of danger.

“And I know what they’re having for dinner,” Michael said then, slamming the handle of his axe into his hand.  “Lamb chops.”  He looked at his wife then, all seriousness leaving his face.  “I know they’re not the same thing, but it just sounded cool in my head.”

“What is this?” the satyr grumbled, his voice coming out sounding as though he was trying everything that he could to keep it from sounding like a guttural mess.  “If you prisoners found your freedom, you should have gone the extra step and actually escaped.”

“All part of the plan,” Michael countered.  “Besides, we’ve already got the front door of the place covered.”

That revelation seemed to shock the satyr a bit, and he stood up straighter upon hearing it.

All the while the two sides were trading verbal barbs, the gnome, encased in chocolate, looked on, his eyes clear of the sweet stuff.  Michael and the satyr went back and forth most office, but Rhianna, during bouts of quiet, looked to the encapsulated gnome, who watched his eyes dart to the side.  She looked over her shoulder, seeing nothing too out of sorts.  She realized, then, that the gnome couldn’t turn his head, and he was trying to bring her attention to something that was out of his peripheral vision.  She followed his gaze off to the side, imagining he was pointing with his finger.  Sure enough, she saw something worthy of her attention there.  A sword lay propped up against the wall of the room, just behind a control panel that was full of buttons and levers.

And the satyr was quietly, almost imperceptibly moving toward it.  As he lunged forward, Rhianna moved quicker, throwing her spear without a second thought.  The satyr thought better of his grab then, pulling his hand back as the javelin pierced through the side of the mechanical panel.

Michael froze for a moment, surprised to see his wife fling her weapon forward.  But just as soon as the satyr moved again, so did the man.

Reaching out with a furry hand, the satyr tried to pluck its weapon off the ground.  But Rhianna’s spear kept it firmly in place, locking it at the cross guard, and a tug at the pommel did nothing to relinquish the sword from the spear.  Even twisting it aside, the creature couldn’t hoist his weapon out beyond the halfway point of the blade.

The satyr had to step forward with his sword, twisting it into place to bring it to bear.  But Michael was there in an instant, swinging his axe with all his might, catching the sword before it could be wielded in combat.  The man’s weapon embedded in the floor though, and try as he did, Michael couldn’t retrieve it.

Knowing better than to keep trying for his sword, the satyr swept to the side with his rounded horns, catching Michael in the chin and knocking him back.  Michael fell from the platform, rolling forward to prevent a nasty twist in neck or any other sort of calamity.

Rhianna ran up the stairs next, still wielding an item she believed could help against their foe.  When the satyr moved to ram her, he met a shield instead, and both combatants were a bit stunned by the immensity of that blow.  Rhianna fell to her rump, while the satyr groaned, shaking the stars from his vision.

Down below, Michael collected his own bearings, climbing to his feet while rubbing his shoulder.  When he looked up and saw the satyr ready to begin a furious charge toward his wife, he looked to his side, hopeful for anything that might be able to turn the tide.  To his side, there were a wide array of confections, all kinds of different jarred candies that one might receive as a small holiday treat, from candy-coated chocolates to flavored popcorn, and brightly colored jawbreakers.  Michael’s eyes grew wide, and he thrust his hand into the jar of perfectly round candies and grabbed as many as he could in his fist.  Then, with a quick turn, he threw them at the platform above, in between his wife and the sinister satyr.

With cloven hooves, the satyr didn’t have to worry about slipping on the hard round balls, but he was still unprepared for his foot to land on one.  The little things were resilient indeed, and the satyr shifted his weight to the side, pulling a muscle in his leg.  An undulating growl escaped his lips, and he reached down to grab hold of his injured calf.

While he wrestled with his pain, Rhianna hoisted herself up with the help of a conveyer belt at her side.  Packages of fine white powder, which almost looked like snow, moved along on the conveyer belt, and the woman grabbed one of them.  It wasn’t cold when she had it in her hands, and as she considered all the other items within the lab, she realized what it was instead.  She turned then, bringing the bag of sugar over her head, and just as the satyr righted himself, she smashed him on his crown, right between the horns.  The bag tore apart at once, covering him in a smattering of white powder, and sending a small cloud of it into the air.

The satyr growled, raking at his eyes, but it was too late.  He was already blinded by the stuff.  Whipping his head back and forth, he tried to strike Rhianna, but she had backed away, safer than she was before.

“Aw,” Michael said, climbing up the steps of the platform.  “I was worried about him before, but he’s not so bad, is he?  I mean, look at that sweet face.”

“This is no time for quips!” Rhianna said, though even she had to stave off a giggle.

“Ah, don’t worry about him,” Michael said as he reached the satyr.  He gave him a little shove in his chest, and even though he was a sturdy opponent, without being able to see, he didn’t put up much fight.  He stumbled backward, catching more jawbreakers under his hooves, and grunting in pain.

As Michael worked him toward the back of the lab, Rhianna heard a noise behind her.  Worried that reinforcements might have arrived, she spun about, bringing her shield to bear.  It was only the gnome encased in chocolate, however, and he muttered something incoherent until the woman swung around to see him.

Further back in the lab, Michael saw another use for all the sugar in the room.  A large silver bin looked to be covered in cobwebs, but the man knew that they were a sweet concoction.  Though he couldn’t read the text above the dials on the round bowl—the instructions written in either gnomish or dwarvish, he surmised—he had seen such things before.  When he turned up one of the dials, he could hear the device whirr to life.  Cotton candy wisps began to fill up the basin.

The satyr, hearing the mechanical noises but unable to see what caused them, took a wild swing at Michael.  The man ducked aside, and opened the front door of the basin, then.

“Let’s see what this does.”

Michael cranked the dial up all the way, until the machine sounded like a jet engine about to explode.  Sure enough, the machine went into overdrive, a blast of cotton candy bursting from the basin and engulfing the satyr.

The goatman, thoroughly covered, and looking like a pink cloud, no longer had the same vicious look to him that he did when the visitors to the lab saw him using his scare tactics on the poor, trapped gnome.

“What did you say?” Rhianna asked the little fellow encased in chocolate.

“I shed, chie hih uh wish uh wickorish wish.”

Rhianna shook her head then.  “I’m sorry, I don’t think we’re speaking the same language.”

“Iye sheaking uh shaye yanguage yer sheaking, Iye jush shuck!” the gnome angrily replied.  “Geh uh wickorish wish.”  He said, speaking deliberately slowly to help convey his thoughts.

“What is a wickorish wish?” the woman queried.

“Uh wickorish wish!” the gnome, exasperated, cried.

“Oh, the licorice twist!” Rhianna realized, her eyes going wide with the excitement of having figured out the gnomes wishes.

“Ash uht I shed!” he declared.

As Michael spun the satyr about, coating him with more and more of the pink cotton candy, Rhianna ran to another machine, which stretched and pulled at a candy rope.  She dislodged it from the machine then and ran it over to Michael.

“We can tie him up with this,” Rhianna said.  “Between that and the fluff, we should be able to ensure he can’t do anything to warn any of his friends, and then we’ll have free reign of the lab.”

The satyr grumbled then.  But, just like the gnome, his voice was muffled by the confection he was trapped within.

Michael didn’t plan on listening to anything their foe had to say then.  After trying to find out where Santa’s camp was, the last thing they needed was to be tricked into revealing some sort of detail that the satyr could bring to Loki.

Instead, Michael took the licorice rope that his wife handed him, and, finding it more durable than it looked at first glance, he wrapped it around their foe.

“You know, satyrs are supposed to be more goatlike, but with all this cotton candy surrounding him, he’s looking kind of sheepish,” Rhianna suggested.

“I thought we weren’t doing any quips,” Michael said.

“This is different,” she replied.  “We’ve already won!”

That assessment had the satyr growling in protest.  Michael simply cinched the knot of the licorice rope tighter, eliciting a grunt from their foe instead of more incoherent words.

“Oh, he didn’t like that one, did he?” Michael asked.  “He’s going to like it a lot less when we free his little torture victim and break everyone else out of here.”

The satyr struggled with his bindings for a moment, but failing to make any progress, he sighed, and bowed his head.  Dejected, he didn’t even watch as Michael and Rhianna approached the giant chocolate bar.

“Alright, then,” Michael said.  “Let’s get you out of there, shall we?”

“I’m surprised you’re willing to let all that chocolate go to waste,” Rhianna said to her husband.  “This place is very bad for your sweet tooth.”

Michael nodded.  “The only thing giving me pause is that this outfit that Santa gave me is already feeling a little tight,” he said, patting his stomach.  “I don’t need to be busting out of my furs right in the middle of a huge battle.”

“That’s fair,” Rhianna said.  “But maybe we could come back here after the battle,” she teased.

The gnome grumbled and tried to speak, but he was so exasperated, the husband-and-wife duo couldn’t hope to understand anything he offered up.

“Just hold on a minute,” Rhianna said.  “This stuff is pretty sturdy.”

Together, she and her husband began snapping off pieces of the chocolate bar until the gnome’s limbs were free.  He began lending a hand as well, mostly scrapping away the stuff by his face.

“Ah, it’s good to breathe out of more than just a thin line near my lips,” the gnome said then.  “You two mentioned you were sent by Santa?”

“In a manner of sorts,” Michael confirmed.  “Can you walk on your own?”

The gnome took a few steps forward, though the chocolate still stuck to his limbs left him unable to bend his knees, and he ended up looking quite strange in his movements.  “I can move well enough to escape from this darned place!”

Michael clicked his tongue and scratched the back of his neck.  “Actually, that wasn’t quite what we had in mind.”

Rhianna clasped her hands together and took in a deep breath.  “We could use your help.”

*          *          *

With a crack of a whip, the laborers were coerced into working faster, even though the weapon hadn’t drawn close to any of them.  One of the elves still bore a welt on their arm from that strike that stung just from moving quickly, as if the breeze given off from their movement sent an icy touch upon his skin.

The human beside the cauldron grumbled as he worked, not pleased in the slightest to be using his staff to stir the slimy, sticky substance—not at all what was supposed to be in the cauldron, he knew.

“Blast it all,” the fellow said, stopping what he was doing, and stepping to the side, his prized staff in hand.  He shook it off, not bothering to care about the consequences.

“Put that back in there,” one of their captors said, pointing to the staff.  The satyr was white furred, almost looking as though the snow had fully covered him, and he was unable to remove it.  Still, that pure look did nothing to stave off the fearsome look of the creature.  Just like his curved horns, his spear looked dangerous.  As it came prodding toward the laborer who dared to step out of line, the wielder slammed the weapon to the side, the metal banging off the cauldron with a resonating blow.  “Go on,” the satyr said.  “Or else we’ll grind your bones to paste and throw you in there as well.”

On the opposite side of the room, the other satyr, a female with tawny fur and silver hooves and horns cracked the whip, more for the fun of it than to scare any of their prisoners.  She paced the room, bored with their task.  The satyrs had, after all, taken the alchemy lab with very little resistance.  She knew that it was an integral part of Loki’s plan, and that it would behoove them to keep the rabble working.

“I won’t use my staff anymore,” the man said.  His sudden boldness has the other prisoners halting their work as well, though it was more in horror at their companions’ brazen behavior.  “If you want me to stir up whatever it is we have here, go and fetch me something I can use that hasn’t been in my possession for nearly half my life.”

The white satyr spit on the ground, drawing uncomfortable looks from the captives.  “You can make a choice here: either you care about your staff, which you’ve had for almost fiftey years, or you can take more care of yourself, considering you’ve known yourself all your life.”

“Duly noted,” the man said.  “But I think I’ll still not be mixing with this.”

“Raskagar!” one of the other captives pleaded.  “Don’t make them madder than they are.”

It wasn’t the satyrs that scared him into compliance.  The wizard couldn’t help but consider his friend’s fears, and he bowed his head then, grumbling as he moved back into place.

Before he could set his staff back into the cauldron, he was surprised to see another captive standing in the doorway of the chamber.

The little gnome looked to be stained by dirt, his hair tousled where it wasn’t matted, yet he had a look of conviction on his face.

The white furred satyr caught the sudden widening of the wizard’s eyes and spun about.  The gnome tried to skitter out of view, but he wasn’t fast enough, it seemed.

“An intruder!” the goatman hollered, catching his companion’s attention.  He charged toward the exit of the room, his hooves resonating against the floorboards and echoing out into the corridor.

When he emerged from the vat room, he didn’t see the pair of humans skulking in the shadows, his only focus on the gnome who ran as fast as his legs would carry him, toward the exit of the building.

Michael and Rhianna heard another pair of approaching hooves, and the woman swung out with her spear, just as the tawny furred satyr emerged into the hallway.  As the spear struck her across the chest, momentum took her backward, spilling her to the ground.  Rhianna moved at once, smacking her atop the head, ensuring she wouldn’t be conscious of their plans for liberation.

Beside her, Michael stepped around until he could glance at her, and he raised his eyebrows in surprise.  “How is it that you, with know situational awareness, managed to pull that off?”

“I don’t know,” Rhianna said with a shrug.  “Christmas magic?”

“Rhianna?” they heard from inside the chamber then.  “Michael?”  Raskagar ceased what he was doing and hurried around the vats until he reached the entrance to the room.  “What are you two doing here?  Where’s the rest of your family?”

“They’re okay,” Michael said.  “We’ve even got a new pup to introduce you to.  But we’re here on a mission for Santa, and they’re off performing very important tasks of their own.”

“So, you came here to rescue everyone from the clutches of those furry beasts?” the wizard wondered.

“We came here specifically for you,” Rhianna explained.  “Lest you not forget, you were a furry beast at one point as well.”

“Though, perhaps a touch smaller,” Michael teased.

“Yes, yes,” the Raskagar conceded.  “I must admit some days I wake up and still feel as though I have whiskers upon my face.”  He stroked his white beard and mustache then.  “Well, much longer whiskers, that is.”  He turned and waved on the other captives, a collection of elves and dwarves and gnomes that were relieved to find their prison turned to a sanctuary.  “If you’re here for me, you must already have a plan.  Care to let me in on the details?”

“Of course,” Rhianna said.  “But we should whisper it so that nobody else can hear, just in case.”

*          *          *

The gnome burst from the doors of the laboratory, surprised to see the massive golem before him, even though his rescuers had revealed that he was present.  Satyrs, and even the mighty frost giant were lying down in the snow, nursing aching chests and heads.  The apertures where the golem’s eyes would be glowed green again, and even when it saw Santa’s foes writhing on the ground, it didn’t invite any other further violence upon them.

“Hey, you!” the gnome cried out to the large, stone creature.  “Michael and Rhianna said that if I needed help, you would help.  Well… Help!”

The golem shuffled about, sentient, and intelligent enough to look to where the gnome pointed.

When the white furred satyr came barreling out of the laboratory, his focus was so intense on the gnome, that he didn’t notice the tall pillars that framed the gnome.  The diminutive fellow couldn’t help but smile then, as he pointed up toward his large, unexpected ally.

The satyr looked up, just in time to see the green eyes turn a pale red.

With a mighty swat, the golem sent the goat man flying, a cry that sounded more like a bleat ringing out into the night.

“Alright, now these next people coming out of the lab ought to be our friends,” the gnome said.  “No smacking anyone else, okay?”

Before long, some of the other people that the gnome worked with did in face exit the laboratory and gasped at the sight of the large golem.  He didn’t look to be ready to cause any trouble then, even taking a few giant steps back to allow some room for those people who had just been liberated.  At the end of the procession, the golem saw the two humans he traveled with, and he fell to one knee, eager to witness them return safely.

Raskagar was with them as well, stuffing his hands into his pockets to ensure they had everything they needed—both to get them back to Santa’s camp, and to help in the long battle to come.

“Now, you’re sure this is going to work?” Michael asked.

The wizard twitched his snow-white mustache then.  “Now when have I ever steered you wrong?  Of course, this will work.  That is, assuming our friend here can handle throwing more than just snowballs.”

“Well, it’s certainly not what he was designed for, but he’s beginning to learn things awfully quick,” Rhianna said.  “So, what do you say?” she asked the golem.  “Do you want to try and design something a little different?”

The golem’s eyes changed color then, and for the split second that the green faded away, Rhianna felt close to panicking, wondering if his magic had been altered in some way.  But his eyes didn’t transform into that familiar, frightening red, but a cool blue that was accentuated by the reflection of the snow beneath his large stone feet.

“Looks like he’s open to the suggestion at least,” Raskagar said.  “Why don’t you make sure you have everything you need and prepare everyone else for our exit, and I’ll try to make our preparations with the golem?”

Michael and Rhianna agreed with that suggestion, and Michael headed over to the folk that they had liberated.  “While all of Loki’s people are nursing their injuries, you’ve got some choices to make.  You could either rope them up the way they did you, or…”

While he went on, explaining the options to the former captives, Rhianna approached the little gnome who was once captured in an oversized chocolate bar.

“I wanted to thank you for being so brave, even after everything that happened to you,” she said.  “Things could have gone very differently in there if you weren’t there to help.”

The gnome chuckled.  “I have to admit, for a few moments, I was definitely planning on just running out the door.  But when you told me who you were, knew I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to help.”

“Well, you’re one of Santa’s champions now, too,” Rhianna said.  “But you know, with how chaotic everything was in there, we never learned your name.”

“Me?” he said, excited that the people he had learned about over the last half-decade wanted to know more about him.  “I’m Quarrick.  This day will go down in history as one of my favorites!”

“Ours too,” Rhianna said, patting him on the shoulder.  “Especially when we win!”

Michael came up alongside his wife then and gave her a little squeeze.  “A few of them are going to stay behind and try to wrangle up the satyrs while they have the golem here.  The rest are going to head to safety.”  The man turned his attention to the gnome then.  “Quarrick, was it?”  He extended his hand to the little fellow.  “Thank you for your help in there.”

Quarrick, eager to shake hands with his new friend, couldn’t stop his smile from growing larger.  “Glad to be of assistance.  But I must say, I’m going to be heading out with those who are looking for safety.  I think I had a good run of luck today, and I don’t need to press it!”

“Probably a good decision indeed,” Rhianna said.

The three of them heard Raskagar clear his throat then, and when they turned, they spotted him standing beside the golem, who had dropped to one knee, and balanced on the limb that had some resemblance to a hand.

“I think we’ve come to an understanding,” the wizard said.  “Are you two ready to head back to the camp?”

Michael breathed out a sigh but nodded.  “I’m not enthusiastic about going up against his army again—last time I did almost get turned into a pincushion—but I’m eager to put all this behind us.”

“And to see the babies again,” Rhianna said.  “I hope they’re all okay.”

“Well, we’ll be seeing them shortly, I assure you,” Raskagar said.  The wizard turned to everybody else then, clasping his hands together.  “My friends, there’s a bit of magic that is going to be taking place here in a moment, and not all of it is under my control.  I’d ask that you take a few steps back while our friend here uses his power to make something a little bigger than a snowball.”

As the freed captives did as they were told, snow from far beyond where the golem stood began to lift into the air, swirling about and affecting visibility.  Ochre grass could be seen for the first time in months as the flakes of snow funneled into the lines on the stone creature’s back.  Once a large area around the laboratory was clear, the golem began the creation process.  Instead of the foom sound that preceded the launch of a snowball, there was almost an electric buzz in the air.  A cylindrical tube emerged from where the golem’s cannon arm opened up, and from there, a new shape began to form.

While the golem worked, it began to teeter just a bit, the magic it created sapping it of its energy enough that the wizard and the other two humans could not help but notice.  Raskagar was beside the golem, helping to shape the snow and convert it into hardier ice.

Soon after, the husband-and-wife duo were surprised to see the snow take the form of a bench.

“I expected something a bit less refined,” Michael said, impressed with the workmanship.

“You’ve done well,” Rhianna said, tapping the golem on his leg.

“Well, I may have had something to do with it,” Raskagar said.  “But yes, a lot of it comes down to our friend here, and of course I couldn’t do the next part on my own.”

“And you’re sure it’s going to work?” Michael wondered.

Raskagar scoffed.  “Well of course I haven’t tested it, but I’ve never second-guessed my magic before.  And even though our golem friend here is new to me, he’s certainly used his powers to some effect.  My spells bolstered his design, and here we are.”  The wizard’s eyes went wide for a moment.  He took his hand and rooted it around in a pocket in his robe.  “I almost forgot.”  He slammed down his palm across the back of the bench then.  When he moved it, Michael and Rhianna saw the carefully folded candy wrapper there.

“What was going to happen if we didn’t have that?” Rhianna wondered, folding her arms over her chest.

“That’s neither here nor there,” Raskagar declared.  “All is right now, except none of us have planted our rears on this bench.”

Michael was the first to sit down, although he instantly popped back up, blowing air out through his lips.  “Whoa that’s cold.”

“It’s frozen solid, as I had told you,” the wizard insisted.

“Yeah, but you didn’t say we would be too.”

“I’m sure it’s not that bad,” Rhianna said.  She sat down as well, then, only she didn’t climb back out of the seat.  Her eyes did grow wider though.

“I’ve got to say,” Michael remarked, “I’m surprised you’re still sitting.  You’re certainly stronger than I give you credit for.”

“It’s not that,” Rhianna said.  “I’ve frozen to the seat!”

Her husband hurried to sit down next to her, and started rubbing her hands and shoulders, trying to warm her up.  “I think we’ve committed to this course,” he said.  “But it’ll only be a short while, right Raskagar?”

The wizard nodded, and turned about, bunching up his robe to sit upon.  Even so, his eyes nearly popped out of his head when he felt the cold against his garments.

“Colder than you expected?” Michael asked from the middle seat.

“What I wouldn’t give to have a bit of fur on my body again,” Raskagar said.  “And I apologize, but things are going to have to get just a bit more uncomfortable.”  As he finished speaking, he teetered his staff to the side, and Michael and Rhianna squeezed back a bit as a frigid bar of ice extended across the front of the bench, locking them in place.

“Does the North Pole have it’s first roller coaster?” Rhianna wondered through chattering teeth.

“Yeah, only it doesn’t have a track,” Michael suggested.

“A track?” the wizard asked.  “Where we’re going, we don’t need a track.  Alright, Rahm,” Raskagar used the creature’s namesake as he passed a glance to the golem.  “Send us to Santa’s camp.”

Just as before, when the golem was creating the bench, a series of hums began to reverberate, until every one of them sounded like the noise he made when he blasted snowballs at the satyrs earlier.  Rhianna watched as little bits of snow puffed off the bench, and she could feel vibrations all around her.

“Is it too late to get off this ride?” she mused.

“Something makes me think it—”  Before Michael could fathom the rest of his response, a larger foom than they had heard before was joined by what sounded like glass shattering behind them.  His breath was stolen away as they took to the sky, and he couldn’t push anymore words out then.

Beside him, Rhianna cheered in excitement.  With an exuberant smile upon her face, she turned about, and looked back at the laboratory, and all the people they had helped.  They all waved, and she spotted Quarrick first, the little gnome jumping up and down and waving both hands.  And just beside him, Rahm, the giant golem, waved his one articulate hand as well.

Michael looked to his side, watching the old wizard’s stringy white hair press back in the wind.  Raskagar held a tight grip on his staff, though he slowly brought it back, weaving it between he and Michael.

With a single tap of his magical implement, the trio felt a huge backward force on the bench—enough that it felt as though they were being pushed back toward the laboratory.  A moment later though, they understood what had happened.  The candy wrapper which Raskagar had fixed to the bench had expanded, taking the form of a giant glider that would make their journey far less dangerous.

A relieved sigh escaped Raskagar’s lips then.  “Now this is definitely the way to travel,” the wizard said.  “Could you imagine if everyone could get about this way?”

Michael and Rhianna giggled at the wizard’s revelation.

“That would be something,” Rhianna said.

“Only a short while until we reach Santa’s camp,” Michael remarked a few moments later.  “Once we all finish our tasks, we’ll be ready to go, and we can take down Loki once and for all.”

Raskagar offered up a solemn nod.  He knew there was much he had to do upon their arrival.  The wizard reached up then, and grabbed the underside of the makeshift glider, steering it toward the ground a little quicker.  With only a short time before Christmas, he knew his services were of the utmost importance.

*          *          *

Sunlight shone down upon the snow and the sea, and all the ice that had once frozen the bay solid had melted once again.  Santa and Nanna stood atop the cliff that their guests had once arrived upon, and they looked over the region, knowing that their earlier skirmish would be nothing compared to what was to come.

A missive arrived on the path leading from their camp.  “Everyone has arrived,” the young elf declared.  “Well, except for one, but their allies returned a short while ago.  Should I send out a—?”

A battle horn echoed in the distance, and Santa knew that the time for peace was quickly diminishing.  Loki wouldn’t be sending his troops across the bay again, but around the loop of the land, and there was nothing that anyone could to stop them.

Or at least, that would be the case if the DeAngelo family had not been successful in their quest to find allies.

For almost as soon as Santa saw satyrs charging through the woods, their fur appearing atop the green canvas of the rows of evergreen trees, the first of Santa’s reinforcements arrived.

A pack of reindeer galloped through across the shore, some splashing into the icy waters as though they did not have a care in the world.  Leading the pack was a reindeer who had a small, auburn-furred dog holding tight to the reins, gripping them in her mouth.  While Zelda offered up incoherent cheers and motivation, it was the other members of the pack that would help to win the day, surely.

Nanna pointed to the number of reindeer that followed Svetlana into battle, noting that elven archers rode atop their backs, already drawing their bowstrings taut.  A few arrows were loosed, screeching through the woods.  Some hit the evergreens, while others met their marks, striking the satyrs.  Just as it has been before on the frozen water of the bay though, a deep red outline marked them before they fell—or in the rare occasion, simply stumbled backward.

Santa’s swelling confidence took a blow the next moment when he realized that Loki had been scrounging up his own allies during the brief respite they had found in battle.  Blue-faced yetis bounded through the trees, growling and roaring as they broke toward Santa’s troops and the rapidly progressing reindeer.

“They haven’t come this far south from their sanctuary in years,” Nanna said.

“Decades, perhaps,” Santa agreed.  “We are lucky to have had the little one fetch Svetlana and her friends.  They may turn the tide.”

As Svetlana met the lead yeti, she lowered her head, cracking her skull against its face.

“Don’t worry,” Zelda cried below, still holding tight to the reins with her teeth.  “I’ll give you a nice head massage later!”

While the action unfolded in the forest, the elf who had come to deliver news of the battle to Santa pointed toward the shore on the northeastern side of the bay.  Sure enough, there Santa and his wife saw more of Loki’s troops encroaching.  With the satyrs and yetis entrenched in the forest, it came down to Loki’s frost giants to press toward Santa’s camp then.

But Santa had his own troops ready to make the journey around the bay.  A detachment of gnomes and dwarves charged forth, even in sight of those large opponents.  From afar, the frost giants hurled log and boulders, trying to flatten the members of Santa’s army.

Just as before, with the grappling hook that struck Michael, a wintry blue shield appeared atop one his armor as a tremendous log struck him.  He was knocked to the ground, but he was able to breathe out a sigh of relief when he found himself able to climb to his feet again.  Just as he hoisted himself off the ground and dusted off his clothes and his armor, another projectile soared over head.

That time, it was from behind the front lines, and when the dwarves and gnomes found about it, they nearly cheered in unison.

They looked behind them, expecting to see another feat of Santa’s mechanical marvels.  But they didn’t see any catapults or trebuchets.  Instead, what they saw were giants of the northern reaches, come to help against a common enemy.  Rurnar and his brethren slung stones and barrels, various liquids splashing up against the frost giants, or even passing through to the woods and smashing atop a fierce yeti before it could take a mighty swing at a rushing reindeer.

Along with Rurnar, it seemed Halgrum and Beroras had taken to the battlefield, the delegates bringing with them their own attachment of their kinsmen.  Though Santa certainly couldn’t see his adopted brother, he imagined the other member of the Aesir looking a bit panicked by the sight of all the troops that Santa had begun to amass.

Before he could turn to his wife and express any building confidence, he was surprised to see a black and white blur take to the shore below.  He was familiar with that sight and knew that Maisie had once again taken a hold of the magical pendant that she had swallowed years before.  Even from that far vantage point, when she took a moment to reconcile where she was on the battlefield, Santa could see that she had it tied around her neck like a collar, and that they wouldn’t have to go, and grab hold of it after she was done with it as her family had once before.

The little dog panted, looking into the forest.  While she had enhanced speed and strength, her stamina was only marginally improved, and as much as she liked to rib Zelda for running out of energy too soon after a walk, she had to admit that it was a lot of work bringing their allies back down from the north.  Still, she wasn’t about to let a little fatigue prevent her from helping her family and her friends.

Maisie bolted into the forest, knocking down a yeti before it could throw a wild swing at a nearby reindeer.  When Maisie was sure the creature was knocked down, she turned to regard the reindeer and her companion.  It didn’t take long for her to realize that it was Zelda who rode upon the legendary reindeer’s back.

“That one was mine,” Maisie teased.

Zelda grumbled, but never let the reins fall from her clenched jaws.  She tugged the red strap to the side, urging her friend deeper into the woods.  “Come on, Svetlana,” she said.  “Let’s find another one to beat up.”

Nanna gripped her husband’s hand, happy to see the tide had changed in their favor.  Before she could offer up any words of encouragement though, she watched as a pale blue zephyr passed through the area.  Just as earlier that day, they watched as the water in the bay began to freeze over.  Without any of Santa’s ships crossing the distance to the other side though, she wondered what the reason for the spell might be.

But then, she spotted something that she could not have expected in all her time living in the North Pole with her husband.  There before them, on the distant shore of the bay, was an army who wore armor that she had not seen in some time.  More pristine than anything the inhabitants of the North Pole wore, they seemed to almost gleam in the morning light.

Nanna grabbed her husband’s arm and steered his attention in that direction.

“The Aesir,” Santa said, his mouth dropping open when he saw his people in the land that he had made his home so many centuries before.  “How did Loki manage to convince them to come here?”

“The trickster knows how to work his magic,” Nanna said.  “But even so, this is our land.  If anyone knows it and how to protect it, it’s us.”

A horn blew three times, and at once, all of Loki’s troops ceased their attacks.  The yetis, satyrs, and frost giants almost seemed to freeze, as though the aurora that the god cast over the bay had worked on them too.  Their shields held fast though, perhaps even strengthening, because bold red glowing illuminated the forest when a reindeer struck a yeti, or an elven arrow met its mark and reached a satyr.  Those empowered shields kept the intruder god’s troops standing, and Santa and Nanna realized that they had underestimated their foe yet again.

“Brother!” a voice called out then.  It was the same one they had heard earlier that day when the first attempt to breach the distant shores failed, and their longships were nearly stolen.
“We don’t have to do this.  If you simply have your friends lay down their arms, this will be a quick transfer of power, and no one would risk being hurt.”  Unlike before, where the voice was disembodied, Santa and Nanna watched as a distant figure strode forward, to stand in front of the other Aesir.  He had red hair that looked like his head had been lit aflame for a time.  Even after all that time—and from that distance—neither could forget Loki’s fiery mane.

“Come and parlay with me,” the god who they once fled called out, his voice carrying loudly across the bay as though he was right there beside him.  “It has been so long.  I only wish to speak with you.”

Nanna turned to her husband then and nodded.  “It’s time.”  She squeezed his hand, and he turned to regard her.  “If we are going to try to do this, it has to be now.”

“There will be no transfer of power,” Santa said then, more to himself and his wife than to those who stood beside him.  But then he stepped forward, nearly to the edge of the cliff face.  “There will be no transfer of power!” he repeated, loud enough that he was certain those who fought on Loki’s behalf heard.  “There shall never be a Christmas that I allow to pass that isn’t filled with joy.  You may have found your way to my home, my land, and my workshop, but you will not keep it.  You want to meet again after all these years?  Then let us meet on the battlefield!”

Santa jumped down from the cliff, landing on the ground below upon bent legs as though the fall was meaningless.  Those dwarves and gnomes, elves and giants that surrounded him gave a mighty cheer when they saw that he had joined them.  And then, unsheathing his mighty sword, Santa strode forward.  The rest of his troops gave charge then as well, except for one.

Nanna whipped her hand about, a series of sparkles whipping around her upturned limb.  A small swarm of multicolored lumibugs fluttered about, glowing like a moving string of Christmas lights.  Nanna narrowed her eyes, focusing on one golden insect, which flew at the end of the procession.

“Go now,” she whispered.  “Loki will be too focused on the battle to notice you until it is too late.  Your passage should be clear.”

Together, the swarm followed behind the charging army, blinking every so often, high above the skirmish below.  The one with the golden glow, flagging just a bit behind, flew a bit lower as well.  Behind it, a shrunken sleigh trailed it, attached with miniaturized reins.  A trio of humans rode upon the small vehicle, clutching tightly to the frame.

“You’ve outdone yourself, Raskagar,” Michael said.  “We’ll likely pass right by everyone with no one thinking better for it.”

The wizard held a hand over his stomach while he leaned forward from the backseat.  The flight was a little less steady than he had hoped, even though the insect was able to carry the extra weight that the sleigh and its passengers represented.  In front of him, Rhianna reacted the same, for a time, before her eyes shot open and she reached into the pockets of her outfit.

“Here,” she said, handing a candy over to Raskagar.  “I took them from the laboratory earlier.  I figured they’re ginger, I’m ginger, it just makes sense.”

“And this will set my stomach straight?” the wizard asked.

“As will a look toward the horizon,” Michael confirmed.

Raskagar groaned. “When we get a little closer, I’ll help the wee bug out.  Remember, we don’t want to go completely unnoticed.”

“Right,” Rhianna said, feeling better the moment she chewed on the candy.  “Because we need to convince Loki to chase us.”

“Well, at the rate our little friend here is moving, the battle is going to be over before we reach the other side of the bay,” Michael mused.  “Are you sure you found us a fast enough lumibug?”

“Careful,” Raskagar teased.  “That bug might be hungry enough to eat you as a snack.  We don’t have to reach Loki first.  We just have to reach him around the time the other lumibugs pass.”

“But they’re all so much farther ahead of us,” Michael explained, gesturing toward the open air before them.

“They won’t be for long,” Raskagar said, suddenly feeling energized after chewing on the ginger candy.  “But let’s not let that distract us.  In fact, we may have some distracting we can do ourselves.”

Below, a satyr charged with his spear at the ready.  He swept low, catching an elf off their guard, and pulling them from their feet.  With his hooves tapping against the icy ground, the satyr hopped up and over a dwarf, and jabbed him with the blunt end of his weapon, briefly activating the blue shield that protected him.  The satyr turned about again, that time looking upon a gnome who looked in over his head.  The diminutive fellow quivered at the sight of the approaching goatman, but neither saw the strange light that seemed to fall from one of the passing lumibugs above.  A light blues streak of color followed behind the white light, and a little hum accompanied it.

The satyr didn’t hear it, nor did he see it as it fell toward him.  As he raised his spear, it seemed he might have been the first one to pierce one of the magical shields throughout the encounter.

But as the light landed upon his head, it was as though a bolt of lightning had struck him from the heavens.  The blue streak quickly followed suit, racing toward where the light hand landed.  At once, a flash stole away the satyr’s vision, and he howled from the quick shock he received.

The gnome, seeing his opportunity, leapt forward, stabbing with a little dagger that was caught by the satyr’s crimson shield.  The goatman would survive those quick jabs, but they, too, stung, and he danced backward as the gnome kept rushing forward.

All along the lumibug’s path, more of those little streaks of light shone out, and more of Loki’s troops were quick to feel the sudden pains that the light preceded.

Not everything was going well for Santa and his troops, however.  While Loki lingered at the other side of the bay, the warrior Aesir he traveled to the North Pole with ventured onto the ice.  Santa planned on meeting them there, and he was joined by an attachment of dwarves and elves.

The Aesir demonstrated early that they were no mere mortals.  Their prowess in battle seemed unmatched as they struck down one enemy, and then the next, avoiding strike after strike during the first several minutes they were on the ice.

In the woods, Santa’s forces had diminished, with some retreating to lick their wounds, while others had spun about to join their leader in his fight against his old kinsmen.

Maisie watched as Svetlana charged into a yeti, lowering her head to drive her antlers forward.  The reindeer bristled once the yeti tumbled back, and she snorted, sending a cloud of steam into the air.  As another yeti barreled in, Maisie set to work, skittering forward quick as she could with the help of her magical amulet.  As the yeti set its sights on Svetlana and the little auburn-furred dog atop her, it pounded its chest like a gorilla.  Svetlana turned to regard it just as it resumed its rush.

But it would never reach it.  Maisie leapt into the air, lowering her head.  She knocked into its chest, sending it flying back a dozen feet between two sturdy pine trees, needles falling from their branches as the yeti crashed through the cover.

Maisie landed on her feet, but the headbutt disoriented her.  She shook her head and panted a bit as she came to terms with the tremendous efforts she had offered up.  A new shadow loomed over the small black-and-white dog, and she only just noticed the darkness that surrounded her.

“Look out Maisie!” Zelda cried.  She finally let go of the reins, and hopped off Svetlana’s back, landing upon the nearby satyr’s face before it could bring down its long halberd.  Though Zelda flexed her fingers, and her claws were curled up, she found a red shield instead of the satyr’s skin or its fur.  She couldn’t keep her composure and she tottered off the creature, spilling to the cold ground below.

Though the satyr stumbled back a step, he was not deterred.  Instead, he found a new target, lifting his crude polearm to punish the little mutt for her interference.

For a moment, Zelda wondered if she had a shield like everyone else.  Would hers activate in time?  Would it be enough even if it did?

As the halberd came down, Zelda felt a little pinch around her neck.  Then, her vision began to spin.

“I got you,” Maisie said, though Zelda’s scruff was still between her teeth.

Together, the pair of them looked on, for when the satyr’s halberd met with only the frozen earth below, he left himself open for a fierce kick from Svetlana.  The shield fluttered and broke, and they heard the deep grunt that left the goatman’s lips as he flew across the area, smacking against the trunk of a nearby tree.

Though the reindeer had found vengeance for her friend, she was quickly surrounded by his allies.  Svetlana spun about, bucking like a wild horse as a quartet of satyrs and yetis inched toward her.  She grunted and whined, kicking when they came close, but they kept their distance, wary of her power.

“Svetlana!” Zelda whimpered.

“It’s alright,” Maisie said.  “I’ll help her.”  The other little pup took a few steps forward, and collapsed into the snow, too exhausted to take another step.

“Maisie!” Zelda cried then, running to her sister’s side.  “What do we do?” she asked, even though she saw Maisie’s eyes fluttering, and she knew the other dog was struggling to stay awake.  “I don’t know what to do.”

All around her, other reindeer spilled to the ground, and elves were knocked off their mounts as Loki’s troops overwhelmed them.  Zelda turned to the north to see if Santa and his troops fared any better.  While Santa easily fended off the horde of satyrs and Aesir, his troops showed their fatigue, and their foes showed their prowess.  More than one dwarf was knocked into the air only to fall back down upon the icy, shattering it before sinking into the shallow, frigid waters beneath.

Zelda nuzzled up against Maisie, nudging her with her nose, worried that all was lost.

Another horn sounded in the distance, and the two dogs wondered if it was Loki, calling for his victory, knowing that the residents of the North Pole had been bested.  Even his troops stopped then, however, for none on the battlefield could determine who the signal belonged to.

A moment later, a frightening screech echoed throughout the bay.  It was like a banshee had come to exact her rage on both sides of the skirmish.

But it didn’t take long for the troops to realize who would benefit from the new arrivals.

Peanut skidded on the ice, her traction failing as she adjusted the way she leaned.  Behind her, towering dire penguins chased after her, chomping their beaks as though they were trying to swallow the feline whole.

“We had a deal!” Peanut growled as she slipped the other way.  “A year’s supply of the stuff, if only you’d fight for us.”

One of the penguins slid on its stomach, its pace improved substantially.  It nearly thumped into the cat, but she leapt high into the air, bouncing off the feral bird’s rump.

“Alright, fine then!” she yowled.  “Then onto the backup plan.”  She turned about, almost spinning a pirouette like an ice dancer.  When she found a familiar gnome upon the cliffside, she jumped up again, waving her arms with great enthusiasm.  “Send the barrels!” she ordered.  “Send them before I become a snack!”

The gnome and his allies up above launched their war machines, slinging barrels across the battlefield.  Santa’s troops had taken advantage of the distractions, but Loki’s Aesir watched as projectiles flew across the bay toward them.  Most knew well enough where they were going to land, and dodged out of the way, but one unfortunate warrior raised his axe to fend off a foe instead of looking skyward.

When the barrels crashed against the ice—or the poor, shortsighted combatant—they fell apart, releasing the liquid inside.  The brine that the fiskeblugen once sat within covered patches of the icy bay, leaving those warriors close to them to gag and cough at the overpowering odor.  The Aesir who was covered in the stuff fell to his hands and knees, heaving to try and empty his stomach.

The foremost penguin, who had passed the cat, set its gaze at the smelly liquid not so far away then, and slid on its belly toward that point of the battlefield.  But the penguins who had not ventured to travel in that manner still had their focus on the cat.

“You’re not supposed to come after me,” she hissed.  “I was only drenched in the fiskeblugen to get you to follow me here.  Now you’re supposed to…”  Her words trailed off, and her gaze fell upon a part of the ice that had cracked open, leaving just enough room for her to leap in.  “I always swore I’d never take a bath again after the vat of fiskeblugen,” she wistfully said.  “This is a sad day indeed.”

Wasting no time, Peanut didn’t hesitate to hop into the water.  And though it was cold, she knew better than to leap right back out.  She paused just long enough for the dire penguins, standing taller than Santa, to swing their focus toward something else instead.  As more briny barrels soared across the sky, they moved toward Loki’s side of the battlefield, eager to feast.

The cat finally crawled out of the frigid waters, shivering the whole way, and looking more like a bilge rat than a feline with elegant fur.  Just as she was about to curl into a bawl and shiver herself into oblivion, she noticed an aurora of orange and yellow above her head.  At once, she felt warmth surrounding her, and when she looked in the nearby waters, she could see that her fur fluffed up enough to make her look just as silly.

“It’s fine,” she grumbled.  “At least I’m warm.”

Not so far away, she heard some troubled barking, and turned to regard it.  Zelda stood next to a tree, barking into the darkness a few feet away.  Peanut, curious, pranced in that direction, noticing the notes of fear in her sister’s yipping.  As the cat drew closer, she saw what looked like a pile of snow on the ground beside Zelda.  Then, she saw the black spots intermingled with the white coat and knew that it was Maisie.

With all the chaos unfolding around them, Peanut didn’t see the younger dog’s shallow, tired breaths, only her limp body on the ground.

A feral yowl escaped from Peanut’s mouth, and her eyes narrowed, for she saw the vague outline of some of Loki’s troops in the woods beyond where Zelda was, the scared dog still barking into the shadows betwixt the trees.

Peanut, even as old as she was, flexed her muscles, and felt her claws unsheathe.  She didn’t hesitate as she bolted forward, passing Zelda.

While Loki’s troops wailed on Svetlana, watching the blue shield that surrounded her fade from the bold cobalt it had been to a dusky cornflower color, none knew that the little cat had set her sights on them.

Peanut leapt into the air, no care for her achy muscles, or the size difference between her and the yetis and satyrs.  She landed upon the face of a yeti first, scratching enough that a shade of red diminished every other second.  Though the creature was mostly feral, it knew that its shield would not last long, and its eyes went wide in shock.  Just as it heard a shattering sound, and the shield dissipated entirely, it brought its hands to its face, pushing the cat off.

Peanut landed on the ground upon her feet, and she bounced off the cold snow, already finding another target.  A satyr stood not far from her, slamming the butt of his halberd into the fallen reindeer’s side, eager to see her shield fail as well.  But he had his back to the incensed cat and didn’t notice as she charged at his leg.

With just as much rage guiding her, Peanut raked at his leg over and over.  With his gaze drawn to the reindeer, he didn’t understand why his shield was failing.  But he surely felt why a moment later.  As his shield broke, the cat at his heel yowled—his only warning before she sank her teeth into his leg just above his hoof.

The satyr screamed at the top of his lungs, and skittered forward, bounding between the trees to find some sort of salvation.  His three remaining allies—a shieldless yeti, and an unharmed satyr and yeti that didn’t know any better—followed suit a moment later when they saw the hissing cat where the goatman once stood.

Svetlana, finally free of her aggressors, still lay on the ground, for her fright compelled her there, and she carried more fatigue than she showed.

Zelda, barked from her spot a few feet away, and Svetlana looked in the little pup’s direction.  Though Zelda desperately wanted to run up to her friend and nuzzle her, she found she couldn’t leave her sister’s side.

Peanut looked to the fallen dog and began to trot up beside her and the other one.  It wasn’t until she drew close that she realized that Maisie’s eyes were open.  The cat hurried her steps then, and when she finally reached the pup, she nuzzled her head against Maisie’s chin.

“I’m okay,” the tired dog said.  “Just a little worn out.  I don’t know how Zelda plays fetch all day when she can’t walk a few blocks without begging to be picked up.”

While Peanut found a comfy spot to sit beside Maisie, Zelda watched as Svetlana labored to stand.  The reindeer shook her head, and when she finally felt sturdy ground beneath her, she grunted.  The other reindeer who traveled with her to help Santa grunted out as well then, the forest full of their sounds.

Zelda panted in excitement then and turned to regard her older sister.  “Thank you Peanut!  You saved the day!”

The cat wore a scowl still, but when Zelda looked away, that angry gaze softened, just a bit.

Not so far away, Santa swung his sword, knocking a satyr back onto the ice with enough power that the goatman lost his footing, and fell to his back, sliding back a few feet.  The once-jolly fellow felt another presence beside him then, and brought his hefty blade to bear once more, but he stayed his hand, for he knew he would hear no end of it if he swung against his wife.

“We’re beginning to falter,” he said.

“Nonsense,” Nanna replied.  “We’re evenly matched, now, and might even be winning.  And our final card has yet to be played.”

“Can you see them?” Santa asked.  “Are they still on their way?”

Nanna looked across the battlefield, and her eyes glowed golden.  While everything else in her vision seemed to turn to grey and draw out of focus, the flickers of light that shone in different colors seemed more vibrant than ever, and it was as if she stood right beside them a few moments later.  She watched as the lumibugs fluttered over Loki’s troops, and toward the Aesir who commanded them all.

Loki looked in Nanna’s direction then, as though he could see her through all the rabble—as though he could see her there right beside him, looking at the swarm of bugs.

Nanna gasped then, withdrawing back into her own vision before shaking her head to regain her composure.

“What is it?” Santa asked, deflecting an axe swing from a sturdy-looking satyr.

“He’ll take the bait,” Nanna said.

On the other side of the battlefield, the three humans in the miniaturized sled couldn’t ignore the fracas below.  Elves and dwarves weaved out of combat with satyrs and yetis, all while dodging projectiles thrown by Loki’s frost giants.  A duo of dire penguins slid across the ice, hungry to feed an insatiable appetite.

One of the trebuchet-fired barrels struck a frost giant in the chest, shattering against his sturdy frame, and leaving him covered in briny liquid that stank beyond what he could bear.  He hollered in fear as the pair of penguins leaped off the ground, closing their toothy beaks over one of his arms, and one of his legs.

As much danger as the penguins posed, the invading army’s leader focused on something else instead.  He narrowed his eyes, peering at each of the passing lumibugs, watching as they shone their light in different colors.  Then, one at a time, he swatted them out of the air, knocking them in every direction, until there was only a small collection left.

“That’s it,” Raskagar said.  “I was hoping we could get past him without any violence unleashed upon our little insect friends, but they’ll be fine, I’m sure.  As for this bug, and the sleigh…”

As Loki brought up his hand to smack the lot of the last few bugs, the wizard worked his magic, and set a spell upon the sleigh.  A trail of fire shot out of the back, and the sleigh and the little vehicle and the insect attached to it zipped across the battlefield.

“What?” the humans in the sleigh heard.  “No!”

But it was too late.  They had already passed over Loki’s rear guards, and their commander almost seemed to retreat from the large skirmish, for he had seen the peculiar way the final lumibug traveled.

Michael and Rhianna once again felt the rush of the air on their face, and the sudden jolt forward had them pushed back in their seats.

“Still have any of those ginger candies?” Michael asked.

Before his wife could even return an answer, Raskagar leaned forward, pointing with his wand toward front of the sleigh.

“Now remember, you two: this is going to be a tight squeeze, but my magic will guide you through, so you don’t have to worry.”  The wizard flicked his wrist, and a swirl of sparkling light fluttered forward.  As it landed upon the lumibug’s back, the harness that kept it connected to the sleigh snapped, releasing it from its bindings.  “Whoa, we’re alright,” Raskagar said as their floating vehicle dropped a few inches—inches which felt like more than a few feet.  The sleigh steadied itself though, just in time for the trio riding there to see their target.

“Santa’s workshop,” Rhianna mused.  “One more important place to pry from Loki’s grasp.”

“And the site of our victory if all goes well,” Raskagar replied.  He clapped Michael on his shoulder then.  “Now, you remember the plan, right?”

“Not in the slightest,” Michael said.  “Do you know how many plans we had today?  I’m all planned out.”

“Well, it’s an easy one.  Just stay out of trouble until help arrives.”

“We’ll see how that goes,” Rhianna said with a wink.  “We’ll see you soon!”

“That you will,” Raskagar said.  With another flick of his wrist, he pointed the wand toward himself, and at once, he hopped up from the sleigh.

Michael and Rhianna looked over their shoulders, watching as the wizard returned to his normal size, and landed in the icy path leading toward the workshop.  Standing between the two streetlamps there, they could see as Raskagar began preparing more enchantments, for in the distance, it was apparent that some of Loki’s army had doubled back, intending on protecting the workshop at all costs.

When the husband and wife wrenched their gazes away from the shadows that drew closer to the building, they realized they were much closer to the workshop than they had anticipated.  The door was mere inches away, and the miniaturized sleigh was near to it indeed.  They grabbed hold of each other and hollered at the top of their lungs.

Then, a moment later, their sleigh passed through the keyhole of the door, like a line of thread through the eye of a needle.

They could sense that things had changed, and that time for the better.  Peanut, Zelda and Maisie labored through the forest, taking things nice and easy, for the satyrs and yetis had all fled, and the rest of Santa’s troops were on the offensive again.

“What happened?” Peanut wondered as an elf sprinted by.

“Loki broke ranks, and ran away,” the elf explained then.  “After that, his army scattered like flies.”

Zelda looked to the cat while Maisie stopped walking and let loose a tremendous yawn.  “Did we win?” she wondered.

Peanut shook her head.  “We didn’t win until we’re all back together.”  She swatted the black and white dog on the rump then.  “What do you think, Maisie?  Are you okay to run just a little bit again?  You only have to keep up with the two of us.”

“Of course,” Maisie insisted, though as she spoke, she ended up leaning against the nearest tree, and yawned again.  “I’m not tired at all.”

Peanut grumbled, knowing that, though her sister had likely helped a lot in fetching some of their more impressive allies, that her terrible fatigue was keeping them from making sure that the rest of their family was safe.

Before she could commit her thoughts to words, she heard a grunt behind her, and as she meowed in surprise, all three animals were scooped off the ground.

“Svetlana!” Zelda squeaked.  “After everything that happened today, I thought for sure you were going to be taking an even deeper rest than Maisie.”

The reindeer grunted again, and began to canter forward, knowing that each of the DeAngelo pets were worried.  As tired as she was, the reindeer would get them to the workshop before long.

The sleigh had delivered them just where the wizard promised them it would.  Michael and Rhianna walked on from there, for once they had arrived within the workshop, the magic guiding it had ceased.  For a brief few moments, the pair were happy to have passed through the keyhole.  But when they realized the sleigh was quickly descending toward the hardwood floor, their cries resumed.  They only abated at the last moment when a bit of leftover magic caught hold of them, ensuring they didn’t smash into the ground.  Still, they had no control over the vehicle without a lumibug or any reindeer, and eventually it did land on the ground, and slid about.

After they recovered from the furious beating in their hearts, Michael and Rhianna climbed out of the bold red sleigh and stepped onto the dusky brown floor of the workshop foyer, which seemed to stretch on for a mile toward the main room of the building.  After several minutes of walking, they looked back to the sleigh, musing about how much the place looked like a desert in their miniaturized forms.

“You know, I barely like walking when I’m regular sized,” Rhianna said.  “But at least I can look at the trees and the animals—you know, nature.”

Michael blew out a tired sigh then as well, but when he turned to his wife, he wore an animated smile.  “What are you talking about?” he asked, jumping ahead, and pointing with both hands toward various places in the foyer.  “Look: way over here, we have desk mountain.  And over there, on the horizon, we see the shelves of led’jer,” he announced, putting a fantasy spin on the accounting books that Santa’s workers kept hold of.  Then he looked up and feigned a bit of a fright before he pointed to a little toy airplane that hung from the ceiling.  “A dragon!”

Rhianna rolled her eyes and shook her head, but she couldn’t ignore the smile stretching her lips.

Their few moments of respite from all the chaos unfolding at the north pole was soon cut short, for they heard the violence then even from within the workshop.  Spells fired off and reported as explosions, and war shouts and hollering rang out as well.  Someone slammed against the door of the building, and the husband and wife looked at each other, new worries bubbling over.

“We’ve got another big problem,” Michael said then, all hints of optimism chipping away then.  “How are we going to get that door open?” he said, pointing to the room where all the magic happened.

“We’ll find a way,” Rhianna said, taking over the duties of thinking positively.  “Let’s just hope that everyone outside is going to be alright as well.

Raskagar felt a layer of sweat marring his brow just beneath his hat, and he blew out a cold breath as he watched the next line of Loki’s troops dare to charge forth.  Often, it was a well-protected Aesir, dressed in more refined and angular armor, who seemed set on protecting the workshop.  Despite their more elaborate gear, they were no match for the old wizard’s quick thinking and quicker enchantments.

Magical traps clasped the legs of those who ventured a bit too far from the path, rooting soldiers in place.  A sudden heat upon a part of other soldiers’ bodies were the only warning they had before a burst of flame sent them flying skyward, or straight at the workshop, only to thud into the wall.  And when Raskagar felt truly winded, he summoned his own guardians to help: a pair of snowmen seemed to burst from the ground, their innocuous look soon proved false by their surprising expert swordsmanship.

The wizard, surrounded by those he had bested, who nursed aching heads or weary bodies, knew that he was flagging as well.  And as he saw the flaming red hair of the opposing commander stomping his way, he knew that it was only a matter of time before he would fall under the wave of Loki’s might.

For a fleeting moment, he thought it might be better to be overrun by the Aesir or the satyrs, or even a frost giant who stomped his way.  But he reminded himself that everyone had a role to play, and his was not done yet.

As he assured himself, other members of Santa’s army emerged from the nearby woods, elves and dwarves ready to meet yetis and goatmen.  The sound of steel ringing against steel set a symphony amidst the still night, with more instruments joining in every few moments.  Raskagar helped as best he could, flinging distracting, swirling missiles at Loki’s troops.  But it was the elves and dwarves who made the difference then, knocking their foes back or sweeping them to the ground.

Before long, the area just outside the workshop was strewn over with those unconscious combatants who had toiled for just a bit too long.

Loki looked over his shoulder then, seeing Santa and Nanna hurrying as quick as they could, but he knew it would not matter.  The Nordic god of mischief continued his short trek toward the workshop, soon stopping just before he reached the wizard there, and the new guardians he had amassed.

“Step aside,” he demanded.  “If I have to, I’ll dice you up with my dagger, the mighty Laevateinn.”  As he spoke, he flipped it over in his hand, and Raskagar could see the spark that sizzled on the tip of it.

“I’ll not let you pass,” the wizard insisted.  Dispatch me if you must, but I make my stand here.”

“Then you mark your fall there as well,” Loki said.

He sent his dagger flying forward, and while Raskgar expected it to come toward him, it instead tore through the snowman to his left, the dagger seeming to dance on the opposite side of the impaled sentry as though it was moved about on a string.  With a tug on the invisible tether, the dagger went right back through the snowman’s hollowed-out head, carving a bigger hole there.  Loki caught his little blade with ease, shooting a confident smirk Raskagar’s way.

“You’ll have to do more than melt a snowman to impress me,” the wizard said.  “So, you’ve got a magic dagger.  So what?  Allow me to show you some real magic.”

At once, little stones seemed to show up in the air around Raskagar, and his frightening foe couldn’t quite make sense of where they came from.  Had the wizard plucked them up from beneath the snow, or pulled them from the aether?

It made no difference, for the Aesir god had no intention of letting the caster use them.  He tossed his knife again, that time ignoring the other snowman and aiming straight for the wizard.  Raskagar’s stones moved into place, deflecting the magic dagger, and knocking it to the side.  Loki scoffed and pulled his hand to the side, willing the blade back around, but the stones were once again in place to protect the man he wished to dispatch.

“You bore me,” Loki said then, and rather than attack from afar, he began a hasty approach.

Raskagar’s stones spun about him, and with each pass, they pulled in more magic from beyond the veil.  An electrical charge surrounded one, while another was awash in flame.  Yet another took on a pale blue hue and looked to freeze over with ice.

Just as it had been, Loki didn’t seem to exercise any caution, never faltering in his approach.  He burst forth, bringing his dagger back to his hand just in time to take a bold swing at Raskagar.

But the wizard’s stones all conflated into one area, just before him, and a trio of magical effects burned, shocked, and froze the god, bringing him to his knees before he teetered over backward.

“I told you before,” Raskagar said, “you will not reach the workshop.”

As the wizard looked at the fallen Aesir god, he heard Loki’s voice.  “He may not reach it.  But I will.”

It took a moment for Raskagar to realize the voice didn’t come from the figure he saw fallen on the snow before him.  All at once, the illusion that Loki had concocted burned away, and Raskagar saw that he had bested a satyr, and not the god.  Loki appeared as if from thin air, an invisibility spell ceasing by his doing.

The wizard never had a chance to swing his magical stones back the other way.  Loki flipped his dagger over in his hand and drove it into his foe’s back.

The shield broke, reporting its failure with a sound that resonated like breaking glass.  While the dagger didn’t cause any lasting damage to the wizard, it certainly felt like he was thumped with a hefty club, and he fell to the ground, barely able to catch himself on his hands.  If Loki had intended to deliver a more permanent consequence, Raskagar wasn’t sure.  But the wizard knew that he had been spent one way or the other.

Laboring to lift his head and watch the battle continue to unfold, Raskagar felt his arms shaking.  But when he saw a familiar pair not so far away, and with a new sibling with them, the wizard felt the strength to exhibit some last-minute arrogance.  He turned about, just in time to see Loki grasp the door, and thrust it open.

“Even in my falling, there has been glory,” Raskagar said.

“Oh, yes?” Loki wondered.  “And why is that?”  He turned back to the fellow he had bested, and he failed to see the golden light that swirled about from the door handle, beginning at his feet, and wrapping around him like a gilded vine that was cognizant of his shield.

So caught up in waiting for Raskagar to give him an answer, he hadn’t noticed the quartet of animals barreling his way.

At the last moment, a satyr ambled into the reindeer’s path, although he was unaware until the last second that he had done so.  He turned, and on reflex, ducked his head, antlers and horns meeting in a fierce blow that had the reindeer and the satyr spilling to the ground.  Zelda and Peanut leaped off to the sides, but Maisie hopped right over top of the falling goatman.

“Don’t worry, Svetlana,” the little black and white dog said.  “I’ll take it from here.”

Loki spotted the commotion then but thought nothing of it.  He was not aware of the magic that Maisie possessed—nor the magic that was taking hold over him.  It wasn’t until he saw that the dog was charging toward him that he noticed the two magics in tandem.  Maisie’s amulet glistened in the light of morning, while the golden helix that passed over him left his body tingling.

“What have you done?” the Aesir god asked.

Raskagar smiled.  “Oh, not much.  Just cut you down to size.”

Loki looked down at himself, not quite noticing anything just yet.  But when he looked up, he realized it was too late to do anything beyond brace for impact.

Maisie, using the full power of the amulet once more, charged forth, bowing her head.  With a little hop, she rose into the air, driving her head into Loki’s chest, and sending him flying backward.

Loki flew through the foyer, slamming against the door into the workshop proper, and forcing it open.  As he fell to the ground, the magic that Raskagar had invoked on the workshop’s front door took hold in full and shrunk Loki down.

When he landed upon his rump on the ground, he noticed that everything looked bigger.  Everything, that was, except for the husband-and-wife duo who had just about reached that door.

Michael and Rhianna shouted, so surprised to see such a large object smash into the area that they were headed.  Similarly, the smack of Loki’s back against the door before he landed on the ground sounded like thunder in the surrounding building.

“I thought we’d have more time to get into the workshop,” Michael whispered to his wife.

“That’s alright,” Rhianna said, tapping the handle of her spear against her shield.  “Loki’s been knocked around a bit.  We’re fresh for the fight!”  She looked over her shoulder to see who had aided them and saw their little black and white dog—much bigger to them then, of course—shaking her head from the charging headbutt.  “Good job, Maisie!” Rhianna called out, though she knew that the pup wouldn’t hear her.

Loki finally rose to his feet, shaking his head as well.  It was then that he focused on the pair in front of him, and understood that he recognized them, to some extent.

“Well, if it isn’t a pair of my brother’s champions,” he said.  “What a delight to finally meet in the flesh.”

“Oh look,” Michael said, crossing his arms over his chest.  “If it isn’t the guy who hijacked our trip to the North Pole last year.  You know, there was a jug of eggnog with my name on it that I completely missed last year, and it was your fault.”

“Not to mention all the good food,” Rhianna grumbled.  “Maisie was so mad!”

“That’s right,” Michael said.  “But it looks like she already got her vengeance on you.”

“Ah, Maisie, that’s right,” Loki said, rubbing his rump.  “I suppose she was the one that just launched me halfway across the workshop.”  He stood a little taller then, and tossed his dagger into the air again, the blade spinning over several times.  “She did me a favor then, since now I’m able to stop you—which was part of my intentions in the first place.  And after you two are out of my way, I’ll be sure to put that mutt in a kennel where she belongs.”

Rhianna stomped forward a few steps, furrowing her brow at once.  “Maisie hates kennels, and I hate whatever makes Maisie sad.”

“Sorry to disappoint you,” Loki said.  “But I have a feeling you’re going to have to get used to that a lot soon.”

“You should be the one being locked up,” Rhianna grumbled then.  “After what you did last year, it’s only fair.”

“Oh please,” the Aesir god said.  “I did the two of you a favor and gave you something to look forward to after a wretched year of being trapped in the same routine day after day.  You should just count your stars that its benefits coincided with finding my brother after all these centuries.”

Michael stood up a little straighter then, believing for a moment that he detected a strange change of tone in Loki’s voice.

“No matter,” the god said.  “There will be no benefits to you lot this year.”  As he finished speaking, he drew his dagger, the empowered Laevateinn, once more.

By reflex alone, Michael stepped forward and to the side, guarding his wife.

And it was just in time, it seemed, for Loki tossed the blade into the air…

…but it hovered just before where the husband and wife stood.  By the time they realized it was a distraction, Loki was already sprinting into the room behind him.

“Hurry up!” Rhianna said, pushing Michael to the side.  “He’s getting away.”

“Yes, but why?” Michael said, breaking into a sprint of his own a moment later, and easily catching up with his wife.

She grumbled as she pushed on, keeping pace with him as best she could.  “I don’t know, but look,” she said, pointing for just a moment before she realized the gesture was making her flag behind.  “He’s aiming for the portal.  Maybe he’s going for reinforcements.  Or maybe the power emanating from it will negate the shrinking magic.”

“Whatever it is, we can’t let him get there,” Michael said.  “But it won’t matter if we can’t catch him, and he is really fast!”

As Michael finished his thought, he and Rhianna nearly shouted in unison, for a reddish-brown blur zipped by them then.

It only took a moment for them to realize that it was there other dog, and Zelda saw the fleeing Aesir as well.

Michael cheered instead, cutting himself off at once to ensure that he didn’t ruin the element of surprise.  Rhianna sent a gloating laugh in Loki’s direction, just as she saw Zelda bound off the ground, leaping over their foe.

Loki turned about, trying to see what had earned the woman’s arrogance.  He only barely noticed the shadow overhead and turned back the way he was heading in time to see the auburn-furred dog looking his way, her eyes narrowed.  He attempted to speak, but Zelda crinkled her nose and began growling, the noise pushing him back a few steps.

Willing bravery back into his body, Loki held up his hand, and the blade that he had tossed toward the husband-and-wife duo earlier spun back across the area, and into his hand once more.  He held it up as though it was a javelin ready to throw, and he stomped toward Zelda.

“You fool,” he cried.  “I reared the mighty Fenrir.  You think I am frightened by some oversized mutt?”

Zelda stopped growling for a moment and tilted her head to the side.  “I’m not oversized.  You’re undersized.”

“And her pedigree papers say she’s one hundred percent chihuahua,” Rhianna said, gasping for air as they reached their opponent once more.

“Yeah, but we’re pretty sure they’re lying, aren’t we?” Michael asked his wife.

She threw her shield hand up in the air.  “He doesn’t need to know that.”

Loki didn’t bother to turn about, knowing that the only thing stopping him from reaching the portal was right in front of him.  He reared back and tossed his dagger.

But he didn’t expect a spear to come soaring in faster, striking the spinning blade before it could travel too far.  Rhianna’s weapon struck the floorboard in front of Loki, and became embedded there, while the dagger flew off and tumbled to the side.

“You imbeciles,” Loki said then.  “Don’t you know anything about Laevateinn?  It’s enchanted, and comes back to me when I—”

As he turned about to fight off his other two opponents, Michael slid on the ground, and swung out with his axe, catching the Aesir in his belly.  Loki was still under the power of his shield, however, which flashed red for just a moment as Michael kept moving, pulling the axe back away.

Loki turned to keep up with the man, watching as he pressed down on the spear, freeing it from where it had landed.  At once, Michael tossed the spear, and brought his axe to bear again.  The god rolled his shoulder back and growled.

“You’ll have to do better than that,” Loki growled.  “If you’re trying to beat me, you can’t miss.”  Even as he spoke the words, he realized that the spear had gone right where it was supposed to, and when he looked over his shoulder for a flash of a second, he saw that Rhianna once again had the spear in her hand.

He thrust out his hand, catching Laevateinn just in time to deflect a stab from the spear.  The next instant, he spun a pirouette, swiping a slash of Michael’s axe away.

And so it went, for several moments, Loki desperately moving about, spinning halfway around to parry one attack or dodge the next.  Eventually, he was able to move to his side enough to fight the two humans without being caught in a pincer maneuver.  Of course, he couldn’t quite escape his situation, for Zelda hopped up and down in the air, almost herding him in place.

The pup only hesitated for a moment when she saw a dwarf—most likely a warrior fighting on Santa’s side of the battle outside—enter the workshop from the rear door of the building.  He heard the series of tink, tink, tinks that rang out from the area before narrowing his eyes and looking at the small combatants on the floor.  He looked down further then, to the flask he held in his hand.

“Well, that’s enough of that then,” he said.  He took one final swig of whatever was in the flask, and then squeezed the rest of it onto the fire that crackled in the hearth beside the back door.

None of the combatants were very concerned when that guest turned about and walked away, but they did notice the roar of the fire as it consumed the alcohol that he poured in the hearth.  The dwarf hadn’t noticed—or hadn’t cared about—the portal on the opposite side of the workshop, which Loki knew he just couldn’t reach, surrounded by the DeAngelo family as he was.

“I grow tired of this,” he growled.

Sensing a lull in the scuffle, Michael panted, leaning back, and rubbing his back with his free hand.  “I grow tired in general,” he said.  “Oh, this stupid pandemic hasn’t been great when it comes to keeping it shape.”

“Round’s a shape,” Rhianna ventured, though she bowed down, resting her arms on her bent knees.  “It’s just not the right shape.”

When the two stopped poking fun at themselves for their overly sedentary lifestyle since being relegated to their homes, they noticed that Loki had found an unexpected ally: himself.

“Let us be done with this so that I can be on my way,” the Aesir said, and as he spoke, the pair of Loki’s duplicated again, and then once more, so that there were eight Loki figures that all seemed to act independent of one another.

“Well, this just won’t do,” Michael said.

One of the Loki images lunged toward Michael, slashing out with its dagger.  Michael stepped to his side and swung with his axe, cleaving it through his foe, and he watched as a wisp of colored smoke trailed off from there, while the image reconstituted on the other side.

Rhianna, too, prepared to do battle with her foes, for two more versions of Loki seemed to be ready to attack her.  But both times she attempted to parry a blow her spear went right through the images.

Even Zelda couldn’t hold herself back, and jumped onto the closest Loki she saw, like a fox hunting for its prey under a heavy snow.  When she didn’t feel anything between her paws, she hopped back, and was surprised to see the trickster god reform.

Several dozen feet away, Loki’s invisibility spell wore off, and he turned to look at his latest magic confusing the DeAngelo family enough to keep them preoccupied.  “Pathetic,” he said, before he resumed his quick escape toward the portal.

He hurried in front of the work desks that Santa’s craftspeople worked on, but he didn’t notice one more inhabitant of the building, who had hidden herself in the shadows.

“Only a fool wouldn’t know you didn’t have one more trick up your sleeves,” he heard.  Loki looked over his shoulder, expecting one of those left fighting his doppelgangers to have fled from the fight.

He sensed that he was looking in the wrong direction then, however, and when he looked to his side, it was just in time to see a large paw swinging down.

Loki crashed to the floor with Peanut’s weight upon him, and he heard his shield shattering.

“Get your hand off me, you mangy feline!” he grunted.  He gasped and yowled when the cat’s claws dug in a little further.

“That’s enough of that,” Loki heard then, and at once, Peanut retracted her claws and backed away.  When the stars stopped circling the Aesir god’s vision, he saw a different hand reaching down toward him, that one wrapped in a leather glove.  A moment later, he was dropped into a frosted orb, and someone closed off the top of his new prison, trapping him, and ensuring his quest for the portal was in vain.

He fought to keep his balance, but it was all in vain, for a moment later, his glass cage was turned upside down, and he was forced to catch his bearings.  Loki shook his head, trying to make sense of the strange visions he was seeing.  He was certain that he was still inside, for he could see all of the desks and toys within Santa’s workshop, but he was also stricken by the sight of snow, fluttering down toward the ground, though he didn’t see any of it sticking to the wooden floorboards.

It didn’t take long after that for him to realize his horrible turn of fate.

He was trapped in a snow globe.

The fellow who had caught hold of him stepped back, and he could see the person’s fluffy white beard, and he realized that he had been apprehended by the enemy commander, his very brother.

“Hello, Loki,” Santa said, a certain jolliness returned to his voice in the coming of his victory.  “I hope you don’t mind, but we’ll be taking back that portal now.”

The trapped Aesir wore a disappointed frown, but spread out his arms, and waved his hands to the side, conceding victory to his brother.

Santa stepped back, holding up a finger to Loki, bidding him to wait while some other necessary tasks transpired.  Some of the Christmas figure’s elite warriors entered the buildings and began guarding the doors, while a tired old wizard shuffled into the workshop, waving about his staff to undo some of the magic that he had cast on his friends.

A moment later, Michael and Rhianna reverted to full size, and they some sighs of relief escape their lips.  Zelda hopped up toward them, excited to see them returned to their appropriate height, and upon one of those jumps, Rhianna caught her upon her arm, turning over her shield to give her more of a surface to sit upon.  Peanut sprang onto the table beside them then, and then they heard the excited snuffles of their other dog as Maisie pushed her way into the workshop.

“Whoa!” Michael said, turning about and bracing for impact as he sank to his knees.

Maisie jumped into his arms then, nuzzling her head against his chest.  “It’s okay, Rurnar and Halgrum and Beroras took the amulet back after we won.”

Michael chuckled, knowing that, had they not, he would have likely been napping on the floor of the workshop then.

With the family reunited, and Santa’s better half moving into the building then as well, a new feeling of reprieve washed over everyone who was in attendance.

Everyone, that was, except for one person.

Santa turned back to the snow globe upon the fireplace mantle.

“Now let’s see what we’ll be doing about you,” he said.

*          *          *

The area around the portal was decorated with enchanted snow, and glowing wreaths, framing the once sought-after military target as one meant to be celebrated then.  For indeed, it had become a point of much deliberation throughout the night before a call had been made by Santa to use it for just the thing that Loki had intended to use it for: bringing forth the people of Asgard.  Santa, however, had a different sort of invitation that he had sent out through the portal to his old home, much to Loki’s chagrin.

And yet, the trickster god didn’t seem all that perturbed by his loss, or by his failure to secure the portal.

The blue-robed wizard moved up beside the shackled prince of the Aesir, holding up a plate of Christmas treats, which Loki waved away.

“Is it true that the real reason that you invaded the North Pole this year was to make sure that Santa couldn’t use the portal for Christmas?” Raskagar wondered.

“For Christmas?” Loki repeated with a scoff.  “I didn’t want him to be able to use it at all.  He left home centuries ago and I was not about to see him bugger off again under the dark of night.  Christmas was just a bonus.  Do you know how many missed yuletides we’d suffered through when we thought him passed on all those years ago?  Well, I certainly think he could stand to miss at least one.”

He turned to his side then, looking at the center of the workshop, where Santa and Nanna danced together, encircled by two little dogs who jumped about, enjoying the music and the frivolity, while their humans clapped along to the music and took swigs of festive drinks.  Peanut, the DeAngelo cat, sat a bit behind them, taking refuge beneath the same work desk that she had ambushed Loki from earlier.

“Now that’s someone who I can agree with when it comes to festivities,” Loki grumbled.

“Oh, come now,” Raskagar said.  “It can’t be all that bad, can it?  Look.”  He pointed toward the foyer of the building, and then to the frosted-over windows, both which showed that even Loki’s beaten troops had begun to enjoy themselves, with satyrs and even frost giants taking part in the revelry.  “If they can be merry, why can’t you?” Raskagar asked.  “Here.”  He tapped his staff against the god’s shackles then, and the clasp snapped apart, the manacles falling to the floor.

They disappeared before they ever reached the wooden boards, and by reflex alone, Loki grasped at his wrists and rubbed his skin.  “Aren’t you worried about me commandeering the portal again?”

“What do you think the shackles were for, hmm?” Raskagar mused.  “After all our back and forth this day, and you doubt the extent of my magic?  The whole while you were wearing them, I was attuning the portal to you, ensuring it won’t ever react to your whims again.  As such, there’s no need to have you moping about over here, wondering when to make your move—at least, in that direction.  But perhaps it’s over there that you could make a move,” he said, pointing with his staff.  “You clearly have some issues that need resolving, wouldn’t you say?  No better time than the present to do so.”

As the wizard finished his speech, a young lad with a mop of blond hair emerged from the portal, and exclaimed with joy, “Raskagar!”

The magic-toting fellow spun on his heel and flashed his eyebrows, nearly throwing his staff to the side.  “Barnabus, my boy!  It’s good to see you!”

Loki grumbled and turned to head to the center of the workshop, his brother in his sights.  Before he could interrupt Santa’s dance with Nanna, however, another reveler interrupted his plans, yet again.

Michael had imbibed a few too many spiced eggnogs.

“Hey, Loki,” he said, enunciating the few syllables perhaps a bit too much.  “I just want to say I get it.  I mean, I miss my brother too.  Maybe the next time he comes home, I’ll try out the Loki method and flatten his tires or something so he can’t leave.”  Michael meant no ill will with his comment however and tapped his former foe on the shoulder as he moved along.

Loki still grumbled again, a little less than happy that his business had been circulated among all the people in the North Pole, it seemed—those of his opponent’s forces, and of his own.

Even with that truth before him, Loki didn’t relent, forcing himself to continue along his path, his brother in his sight.  If he couldn’t find victory on the battlefield, he would still succeed to speak his mind to his brother.

“Ah, Loki,” Santa said, upon seeing his adopted brother.  “It is good to see you out of your shackles.”

“You’ve turned my troops into a bunch of jovial rabblerousers,” the trickster god said.  “I might as well still be in shackles.”

“Ah, but there’s no need for any of that sullenness, is there?” Nanna asked.  “As it turned out, we practically wanted the same thing anyway: for that portal to work—only I suppose we wanted to work for different reasons.”

“Look, I suppose in the interest of transparency—something I’m still trying to get a knack for—I might as well come clean and let you know that the thought of using the portal for world domination did come to mind once or twice.”

Santa couldn’t stifle a fit of jolly laughter then.  “As I recall, you’ve been battling those aspirations since before I came here.  Perhaps a vague thought crossed your mind, but I’m glad you came here for a more personal reason.”

Loki stood a little taller then and arched an eyebrow.  “You know I’m the god of deception, don’t you?  Are you certain that it’s a good idea to keep me around like this?”

Santa draped his hand on his brother’s shoulder.  “I was never worried for myself.  Truth be told, in all the time that we’ve lived here, we had time to correct that one little mistake from Freyja’s enchantment.”  He pointed at the mistletoe that hung from a few of the crossbeams above their heads.  “What, you think I’d have all those sprigs of it here if all it took was someone tossing them at me?  No, my real worry was Christmas.  There are billions of people out there who deserve this one bright spot of the year more than any, and I can’t imagine a world where darkness wins out.  I’m sorry that for a time, I thought you were part of that darkness.”

“I may yet have some of it in my heart,” Loki muttered.  “Did you know how long I suffered, believing an errant prank had been the end of you?  I gave a wobbly spear to a blind god.  How was I to know that it would hit you?  Between everyone hating me for that, and what felt like years of sadness that came after that, learning that you may have still been alive broke me.  I spent centuries searching for you, brother.  I just never expected to find you on this world so far from the nine realms.”

“You know, technically…” Santa began to say.  However, he grew silent when he saw another set of visitors arrived through the portal.

Loki followed his brother’s gaze across the room and was aghast to see a pair of Aesir looking about the room, only three eyes between them, although the Allfather, had Huginn and Muninn to help him identify the things worth his attention.

“You invited Mother and Father?” Loki asked in a panic.

Santa shrugged.  “I figured it was time for a proper family reunion.  Come then, let’s say hello while the day is still young.”

Loki lingered there for a time, hesitant to take his brother up on that offer.  “If you’ve invited them, I wonder who else you’ve sent word to.”

*          *          *

The celebrations wound down considerably.  Though there was cause for celebration, there was still much work to do ahead of Christmas as well.  While Santa’s workshop had been used in full throughout the year, and many of the toys and gifts had been fashioned and packaged, they had lost valuable time due to the skirmish and the festivities that followed.

Of course, even knowing all that, it was difficult for Santa to send his relatives away, having just come clean about his whereabouts after what felt like eons.

And there were a great many relatives to welcome to his new home.  Santa, once Baldr, embraced his parents with such love that the big jolly fellow had nearly barreled them over.  He met with Freyja some time later, demonstrating that the one item she had left out from her ritual had been resolved.

Thor departed the party the way that he arrived, a large thunderclap heralding his travels.

That time, Zelda responded with a grumbly “Stop doing that!”  The rest of the guests believed that it was much more fitting of a hero than her previous pronouncement of “we’re doomed!  The world has ended!  We’re all going to die!”

Indeed, all those who had come from Asgard had moved along except for one, for Loki remained behind, finding it within himself to revel a bit, and enjoying the yuletide spirit in full after so many years.

Santa also had some of his more trusted champions by his side, though he could see that the battles and the planning had left some fatigue upon his friends’ faces.

“You know, you outdid yourself this year,” he said to the DeAngelo family.  “I know this certainly wasn’t the kind of thing that you were expecting, and it didn’t begin or end the way I believed it would,” he mentioned, clapping his brother on his back for good measure.  “But you had a hand in bringing these two insufferable fools back together, and you helped to ensure there will be more joyous times ahead of us all.

“So, I must ask you this one thing: what do you want for Christmas?”

With the three animals tuckered out beneath the table, it fell to the husband and wife to come up with a worthy enough present.  Rhianna reached out and grabbed Michael’s hand, giving it a gentle little squeeze.  “I think we have everything we need this year,” she said.  “We’re just grateful to have our family together.”

“As wonderful a gift as anyone can have,” Santa said, while Loki rolled his eyes—though, it seemed even that indignant look had faded somewhat.  Santa stood then and helped his tired guests out of their seats.  “Perhaps we could have you back later this year for a proper celebration preceded by as few battles as possible.  I hear July is a wonderful time for festivities.”

Michael and Rhianna scooped up their tired animals and walked alongside Santa as he brought them closer to the portal.

“Merry Christmas,” Michael said to Santa then, his voice as close to a whisper as he could get, for he did not wish to wake Maisie and Zelda, both draped over one of his shoulders.  “I’m glad that you were able to get something you weren’t expecting this year.”

“As am I,” the jolly fellow replied.  “Now you get home and get some rest.  It will be a new day before you know it.”

Rhianna leaned forward and stood on the tips of her toes, giving Santa a quick embrace, but minding the snoring cat she had pressed against her chest while she did so.  “See you next year,” she bade.

Santa waved them on as they departed, disappearing through the portal.  He lingered there for a time before he turned, a weary smile upon his face.  He saw Loki at the table still, though he had risen, and leaned backward against it, his arms crossed over his chest.

“You know,” Loki said, “I hate to admit it, but I see why you like them so.  They’re a pleasant enough lot, and from all I’ve learned of their exploits, they’ve earned your praise.  But you know, having heard the stories, I think… I think I know just the present for them this year.”

“You do?” Santa wondered.

*          *          *

With gifts and wrapping paper strewn across the floor, Rhianna remarked that their living room looked just as bad as the battle at the North Pole.  While the animals played with their new toys and treats, the husband and wife took sips of coffee and hot cocoa.

Michael stifled a yawn, but leaned back toward the tree, reaching toward a box that was tucked a bit behind where the other presents had been.

“I think this is the last one,” he said.  As he brought it forward though, he noticed his wife’s narrowed eyes and furrowed brow.  “What?  What is it?”

“I didn’t use that wrapping paper,” she insisted.  “And I even wrapped the presents you got for me,” she teased.  “That’s not a secret present you got us, is it?”

“No,” Michael said.

All the animals were more intrigued then as well, joining their humans on the floor to look at the box.

Suddenly, it moved about, and they heard a little snuffle from within.  Zelda and Maisie looked at one another, a bit perplexed by that sound—and by the new smell they detected in the house.

But it was Peanut, who had been through it time and time again, who knew just what they were in for.

“Not again!” she cried.

A huge thank you to Leo Borazio and Wern Szuen Lee for helping us with our bookmarks this year.  It was a rush job for both of them, but they did an awesome job with everything!

The post Christmas Revelations appeared first on Tellest.

A baleful wind announced its presence by singing eerie tunes against narrow cracks and openings in the doors, the windows and the soffit.  Everything was sealed shut, but the dog still held her eyes to the front of the house, wondering if the gusts would tear the screen door from its hinges.  Maisie sat in the bed in the picture window, much happier to stand guard than either of her siblings—although at that point, she had slumped down, and rested her head on the uplifted side of the fluffy bed.

Behind her, the other dog sat on the ottoman, curled up so that her tail covered her nose.  Zelda sat in the open light of the window, almost as though she was looking for some sunlight to come through.  But the sun had only come out for a few moments that day, and it shone through the window there hours earlier.  She waited there to pounce, because the moment Maisie found someone walking down the sidewalk, she grumbled and whined, and followed them to the back of the house, looking out the back window instead, ensuring that they kept on walking.  She’d find her sister in the bed in the window then instead, and would noodge incessantly to anyone who’d pay attention to her, pawing at them and standing on their chest—her way of saying without any words that the other animal had to be evicted from her window.

Peanut, the morning sentry, had retired for her noonday nap, disappearing up the stairs some time before.  Every hour or so, she took a groggy walk down the stairs for a drink of water or a stretch as she checked the perimeter of the house, but everything seemed to be in good working order.

It had become routine.  Over the year, the three animals had fallen into step, working together, perhaps without realizing it, to guard the house from the dangers outside.

Taking a day off, Rhianna had shifted some of her own routine.  The house filled with a delightful aroma.  Baking became an escape from the bitter news that seemed to spiral out of the television and the internet.  Cookies were a bit of a guilty pleasure, but they were also a worthy distraction.  That batch was different though.  They were celebratory cookies.  It was a special day—the one before Christmas Eve—and the DeAngelo family was ready for the magic that was bound to come.

Everyone needed it that year.

The cat and the dogs didn’t realize it, but there were far less visitors over the many months that passed.  Nobody ventured inside the house except on one occasion in the summer, and even that one was fraught with stress and worry.  The two pups hadn’t visited anyone else either.  The only interaction the DeAngelo animals had with other people was seeing a family member through the fence or grumbling at a delivery person or another person walking a dog down the road.

That was, perhaps, one reason that the window had become such a coveted spot over the previous several months.  It was an opportunity to see the world around them a bit more often, and it brought them together in some interesting and unexpected ways.  It became less and less surprising to see all three of them together there—more tolerable of one another’s company, if not outright enjoying it.

Rhianna, sitting on the couch and playing on her phone, couldn’t hide a smile when she heard the little whine from the window.  She leaned forward and saw Maisie’s tail wagging—as sure a sign as any that the final member of their family was home.  Before the latest arrival even passed by the window, Maisie’s whimpers had caught Zelda’s attention, and they both dropped to the floor, staring at the door with gleeful expectation.

Despite everything that the past few months had thrown at them, when they were together, the joys they had anticipated the year before were still present.

The door opened, and Michael threw off his coat and his gloves.  Maisie’s whimpers turned to little squeals as she stood up and fell back down, twirled about and jumped from the ottoman to the floor in her little “everyone is home” dance.

“Hi little baby!” Michael teased.  “Give me just one second.”

He pumped a glob of sanitizer into his hand, then.  It didn’t matter that he’d already sanitized in the car before his ride home.  Always a little bit of a germaphobe, those past months had really pushed the man’s neurosis to the limit.

Rhianna arrived at the doorway then as well and smooched her husband before giving him some room to enter the house.

All the while, Maisie’s happy noises continued.  Soon after, though, they gave way to something different, which only came once a year.

“…and I always miss you so much, and I’m always sad when you leave, but I’m so happy when you come back home, and why are you always gone for so long, and did anything fun happen, and also could you please get me some food?”

Michael looked to his wife, a little confused by the sudden speech.  She, too, couldn’t hide her concerns.

The talking animals around that time was normal, all things considered.  But it seemed that the arrival of Maisie’s verbosity came around seven hours early.

“That’s kind of weird, right?”  Michael asked.

“It’s not anywhere near midnight yet,” Rhianna confirmed.

“Who cares?” Zelda asked, excitedly approaching the tallest members of the family.  “More hours to listen to us!  Throw our toys.  No, give us treats.  Make toys out of our treats and then throw them to us!”

“Alright,” Michael said.  “But first, I want a hug.”

“Maisie can give you a butt-first hug!” Zelda cried as she ran to the kitchen, excited for treats.  “Mommy!  It’s important that I tell you this while I can since you don’t seem to understand me any other time throughout the year.  It is always dingo’clock!”

Rhianna sighed, and headed toward the kitchen.  “What’s that?  You sound like a regular ol’ dog again.”

“What?  No!  I had so much to say!  You had so much to learn!”

Crouching down, Michael held his arms out wide, indicating he still wanted the hug from Maisie.  She stepped forward and smushed her head against his chest, balancing on one of his bent knees.

“Let’s get you some food, alright?” Michael said.

Maisie pushed off him and spun around before her front paws landed on the ground.  “Hurray food!”

As Michael stood up again, he saw Peanut in an almost regal pose on the stairs, looking over the kingdom that was their living room.

“Hiya Peanut,” Michael said.

She stuck up her nose at the comment.  “I see you’ve failed to bring home an adequate feast again.  Some hunter you are.”

“I am a different kind of hunter,” he insisted.  “I hunt for the missing information in our systems.  I hunt for the truth.”

“The truth is I haven’t had tuna in far too long,” Peanut challenged.  “This egregious oversight will not soon be forgotten.”

Michael sighed and shook his head, but stepped forward, further into the house.  “You made the right choice taking the day off today,” he told his wife as he made his way down the hall.  “The weather was terrible.  The snow hasn’t really started yet—just a few flurries on my way in this morning—but the wind was so bad it felt like my car was going to fly off the road.  And it’s the day before Christmas Eve, so we know we’ll be getting some snow.  But if the snow is as bad as the wind and the frigid temperatures, I feel like the whole town is going to get swept into Tellest with us.”

“Less fraternizing, more foodernizing!” Maisie demanded.

“Alright, hold on little doggie,” he said.  “I’ve got to change out of these clothes.”

“I left pajamas on the bed for you,” Rhianna said.  “I figured we could eat cookies and drink eggnog while we wait for midnight!”

“What, you mean I shouldn’t walk out in front of the open window for all the neighbors to see?”

“Not if they’re all coming to the North Pole with us,” Rhianna said.

“I’ll show them a—hey, should I wear my comfy socks too?” he asked.  “Do you think I have enough time to do a little writing before we leave?  We’re just watching a movie and having dinner, right?”

“Some of us are still waiting for theirs!” Maisie grumbled from the other room.

“Dinner is cookies,” Rhianna said.  “Cookies is dinner.”

Michael returned to the living room, and passed into the kitchen then, wearing the pajamas that his wife had set out for him—black pants that had grey, white and red patterns on them, and a comfortable red throw over sweater.

Rhianna, in her own holiday attire—a dark pajama gown with green squiggly Christmas trees upon it—held out the tray of cookies for her husband.  Michael eagerly grabbed one along the edge of the tray that had a gooier set of chocolate chips in it.  That first batch had cooled down enough to eat, but they hadn’t quite solidified enough to maintain their shape when grabbed up.  Rather than just take a piece of it and go back for the rest, Michael shoved the crumbling treat into his mouth.  He tilted his head back and leaned to the side, ensuring Rhianna knew she had done well.

“You want some food?” he asked Maisie then, his words somewhat muffled by the chunk of cookie still in his mouth.

Maisie spun about and stood up on her hind legs.  “What do you think I’ve been saying all this time.  You can hear me, right?”

“I hear you just fine,” Michael said.  He reached up to the cabinet, grabbed a scoop of the dog’s food, and poured some out into her bowl—making sure to spill some on the floor when he did.  “How about you, Zelda?  Do you want some too?”  His question was a rhetorical one, as he reached up and grabbed a scoop for her as well.

“Of course, I want food,” she said.  “But I want your food.  My delicate palate calls for only the most exquisite, the most gourmet, the most…” She huffed then and looked to Rhianna.  “Mommy, make me some French fries!”

“You know we’re going to visit Santa,” Rhianna said.  “He’s always got tons of treats for us.  Why don’t you just wait a little bit and eat your dinner to tide you over?”

Michael leaned closer to her then.  “You don’t want the French fries to smell like cookies do you?”

“I do not want the French fries to smell like cookies,” she confirmed.

Zelda stood up then, bracing herself on Michael and Rhianna’s legs.  “French fry cookies sound like a great idea, and I don’t think you are giving them serious enough thought,” the pup said.

Michael smiled, and reached for another cookie then, breaking off little pieces that were free of chocolate for Zelda and Maisie.  The younger dog’s eyes went wide, and she opened her mouth, a few pieces of kibble falling out while she went for the tasty morsel.  Both dogs scarfed down their little pieces of the surprise treat, and that was enough to ensure that Zelda felt her hunger pangs.  When she saw no more cookie bits coming, she went to her bowl and relented, conceding for dog food instead of glorious people food.

“Now tell me we have egg nog to wash this down with,” Michael said, opening the fridge up to peer inside.

“Just a swig,” Rhianna said.  “We want to make sure we fit into whatever outfits Santa has prepared for us this year.”

“Don’t you think he would know if I was about to gain weight at the last minute?  Wouldn’t he want me to have this?” Michael asked.  “Besides, you bought the stuff.  You’re at least partially responsible.”

After he took a sip, she did too, but she made sure to put it back and close the fridge shortly after.  It was about that time that Maisie finished up her food.  She stretched for good measure—her silent way of giving thanks.  But she wasn’t about to waste a good opportunity for a post-dinner nap.  She jogged to the couch, and leapt up to the cushions, approaching the L-shaped side of the furniture.  There, a giant-sized blanket sat in a heap, and she meant to get comfortable within its folds.  She pawed at it, a pointless endeavor, for there was no way it would move on its own.

“Come on, blanket,” she said.  “Move.”

“You know there wasn’t any magic that Santa put on the stuff in our house, right Maisie?” Michael asked.  “Alright, alright.  But you can’t get too comfortable under there.  Midnight will be here before you know it, and I can’t be digging you out of there.  This huge blanket is starting to give me a sore back!”

Rhianna brought another couple of cookies from the kitchen then and handed one of them to Michael.  “It’s Christmas.  There are no calories.”

Her husband couldn’t challenge that logic, so he took the second cookie, and they tapped the snacks together.

Together, they both sank on the couch, and in time, Peanut and Zelda joined them there as well.  The whole family was in grabbing distance of one another, though Maisie was hidden underneath layers upon layers of blanket.  Michael, stuck beneath two animals, with Zelda huddled against his left leg while Peanut snuggled on his right, gently kicked the controller on the coffee table toward his wife.

“What are we going to watch today?” Michael asked as Rhianna reached for the controller.  “Which funny show are we going to laugh at for the hundredth time?”

“Let’s go with the greatest hits,” Rhianna said.  “We’ll watch—”

Before she could finish her thought, the wind outside roared louder than ever.  It was strong enough that she was worried it would rip the door open.  Without thinking about it, she climbed from her spot on the couch, and hurried back into the kitchen.

Zelda, primed for panic whenever she heard any sort of weather event, turned about and stood atop Michael’s shoulder.  “It’s going to blow the whole house down!” she cried.  “We need to get to the bunker!”

A sigh escaping his lips, Michael hugged the worried pooch tighter.  “It’s alright Zelda-pie.  It’s just a little bit of wind.”  He smooched her on the head before tilting his own in confusion.  “What bunker are you talking about?”  Furrowing his brow, he thought of all of what he and Rhianna called her boom-holes.  “Are you talking about wanting to hide behind the toilet?”

The skittish dog didn’t get a chance to answer before they heard an inquisitive noise from the back door of the house.

“Um, Michael?” Rhianna said.  “You’re probably going to want to look outside.”

That single, final word was all it took to wrench Maisie from her comfortable spot beneath the blanket.  She struggled against the heft and the size of the gifted cover, but finally spilled out of it onto the floor.

“She just got all snuggly,” Michael said.

“She’s fine,” Rhianna said.  “Besides, I don’t think we have time to get comfortable.”

Michael grunted as he climbed off the couch.  Before he even stepped into the kitchen, he could see that a strange phenomenon was occurring outside.  Snow whipped against the back door to the house, and it played a strange note as it found those cracks and crevices there as well.

Rhianna swept the curtain aside and confirmed what her husband was expecting.  The swirling vortex that was meant to come at midnight was already there, forming in the center of the backyard.  As it did, it churned out a blizzard of snow, like a blender without a lid, casting the white, flaky stuff everywhere.  The houses next to theirs retained their green lawns, and the adjacent street was untouched.  Daylight was fading, but that was the earliest it had been when the portal took shape.  As strange as that was, it also slowly grew from a small hole into a gaping maw.

“I’m glad I moved the fire pit yesterday instead of waiting till today,” Michael said.  “Something makes me think Santa isn’t a huge fan of littering.”  He lingered there at the door as well, looking at the vortex.  “This is the earliest that we’ve ever seen this come through.”

“And the earliest the animals have ever started talking,” Rhianna added.

“I guess we should get out there?” Michael asked.  “Should we change out of our pajamas or anything?”

Rhianna shrugged.  “I’d guess if we’re already being summoned to the North Pole, it’s more important that we just get there.  We’ve always been getting a spare change of clothes anyway.”

Michael nodded.  “Alright then.  Who’s ready for another adventure?” he asked, turning around to the fuzzy babies.

Zelda and Maisie couldn’t hide their excitement as they spun about or stood up against the window.  Peanut, too, was ready, the others were sure.  She sat patiently on her rump in the kitchen, as sure a sign as any that she was waiting for the door to open.

With a smile on his face, Michael turned to Rhianna.  “Whenever you’re ready, release the hounds.”

The woman nodded, and grabbed the door handle, eager to see what wonders awaited them at the north pole that year.  She pulled the handle down, and pushed on the door, but it didn’t budge.  She thought that perhaps the wind was pushing on the door, and she struggled to shove it open, but again, was unable to move it at all.

“Come on, Muscles,” Michael teased.  “All that time in the workout tower this year hasn’t paid off?”

“I’ll have you know I’m strong enough to lift an entire gallon of milk these days,” she joked back at him.  “Fine.  I give up.  You do it.”

Michael snickered then as his wife shuffled out of the way into the crowded kitchen.  “You just want to get your presents with no delay.”  He grabbed the door handle then and pushed the door forward as well.  Once again, there was no give.  Michael looked back at his family, a little embarrassed, and turned back to the door.  With his muscles straining, he tried to push on the door with all his might, and again, couldn’t accomplish anything.  He turned back to his wife, confusion in his gaze.  “Um… Is it a push or a pull?”

“How long have you been living here?” she asked, arching her eyebrow.  She hummed to herself, taking her place in front of the door again.  “Maybe it’s just not ready yet.  It’s still growing, and it’s usually the size of the a big ol’ pool by the time we go through it.”

Michael shrugged.  “Maybe.”  He leaned against the kitchen table, watching the slow expanse of the vortex outside.  “Well, I mean… I guess we’ll just wait until it grows large enough to let us walk out of the house?”

“This is weird, right?” Rhianna asked.  “The timing is all off, the door won’t open.  It’s almost like Santa’s got some silly trick up his sleeve this year.”

“Well, to be fair,” Michael said, “this year hasn’t exactly been known for its normalcy.  Maybe it was so bad, even Tellest felt a little bit of weirdness.”

It was Rhianna’s turn to shrug.  “Well, either way, we can’t let it get us down.  Christmas is a magical time for us, and it should help us forget just how suffocating this year was.”  She tapped her finger against her chin and hummed to herself.  “Why don’t we each talk about what we think we’re going to see when we get back to the north pole?”

“I think we’re going to see Svetlana!” Zelda exclaimed.  “Last time she said we were going to take a ride through the northern lights.  At least, I think that’s what she was saying.  She was monching on a carrot at the time.  Come to think of it, she could have said it’s a good thing she doesn’t have to squeeze into any tights.”

“I wanna see our friends again,” Maisie piped up.  “Halgrum and Beroras and Rurnar.  Maybe we’ll get another giant blanket!”

“Maybe,” Michael said.  “I wonder how those three are doing.  Do you think they managed to keep things pleasant between the three of them?”

“I’m not sure,” Rhianna admitted.  “If so, little a thing was able to set their greed to work against them, maybe something else urged them the rest of the way.  I hope not.  I think they’d be much better friends to one another than enemies.”

Michael grinned.  “Besides, that little thing brought them together, didn’t she?” he asked, pointing toward Maisie.

“I make everything better,” the little pup insisted with a smile.

She basked in the thought of her heroics—greatly exaggerated in her head—of the year prior.  Maisie hadn’t exactly set out to save the relationship between the dwarf, the elf and the giant, but she was sure to take credit for it when she was able to.

The family looked at Peanut then, who had yet to offer up any ideas of what she thought would happen.  She rolled her eyes and tilted her head then, as though her answer would be more matter of fact than opinion.  “Fiskeblugen warehouse,” she said.  “It’s a natural progression of my happiness.”

“Stop trying to make yearly fiskeblugen a thing,” Michael said.  “It’s not a thing!”

“Can you imagine?” Rhianna teased.  “You won’t even eat fish sticks after that one bad experience.”

Michael sighed and shuddered.  “Let’s try and get back to happy thoughts, huh?  Maybe our back door really is just sticking.  Let me try the garage door.”  He walked through the house until he reached the garage, letting a tiny gust of cold air that had collected there into the rest of the building.  “That’s weird,” he called out.  “This one’s not opening either.  Maybe it’s just because of how much wind there is.  No, wait.  This one is definitely a pull!”

“I don’t think that’s important,” Rhianna said.

Too far away to hear her, Michael climbed over old boxes and extra provisions then.  “I’m going to try the front door.  There shouldn’t be as much wind on that side,” he yelled.

“Michael!” Rhianna said.

He appeared in the kitchen again a moment later.  “Am I in trouble?”

Rhianna pointed out of the window, gaining his attention, and summoning him back to his spot.  He chose his steps just as carefully there, making sure not to step on any of the eager animals who congregated in the kitchen.

When Rhianna moved the curtain again, he saw what had interested her so.  The vortex had grown bigger then and still seemed to be picking up speed as it swirled.  Snow erupted from it as though it was an icy volcano, and the blizzard covered the yard in moments.

“Something is really funky this year,” Rhianna murmured.

Almost as though the portal had heard her words, the snow stopped funneling out of it.  Its frenetic spin never ceased though, and even looked as though it might have been continuing to pick up speed.  The ring of snow surrounding it began to take on a bright red glow, almost sparkling, even in the fading evening light.

The husband and wife inside the house realized that the shining ruby light was emerging from the vortex.

“Did Santa bring his own fire pit this year?” Michael joked.  He looked at his wife with a glimmer of pride in his eyes, but Rhianna shook her head, ensuring he knew he had botched that attempt at being amusing.

While they looked at one another, the door flung open, letting a howling wind enter the house.  The curtains flew to the side, leaving a path to the portal before them.

Zelda, the most eager of all them, sprinted out into the yard.  She, too, felt the odd sensation surrounding that year’s events, and she skidded to a stop just before the portal.  The pup felt rumbling far beneath her feet and lifted her head to investigate the twisting cyclone that led deep into the ground.

“Zelda!” Michael cried, running out into the snow in just his socks.  He scooped up the pooch then, and turned to look back at the house, where the rest of the family still observed from the kitchen.

Maisie, the bravest of the bunch and a bit concerned, took a step from the doorway, and sniffed at the air.  Her tail wagged as Michael pushed through the fierce wind.  With one hand clutching Zelda against his chest, he brought his other hand up to stave off the wind and the snow, blinding him to the rest of his loved ones.

Even through the blustery gust of white powder, Michael could see as the curtains in the house were drawn out through the open door.  It wasn’t as though the wind whipped it one way or another though.  He could see the constant pull, like something grasped it and gave them a fierce tug.

He felt the pull on himself then as well, like a rope had been looped around his midsection, and slowly pulled him backward.

“What are you doing?” Rhianna yelled.  “Get back in here!”

“I can’t!” Michael cried.  “Something’s wrong!”

“I’ll save them,” Maisie shouted, charging into the yard.

Whatever deep-seated, distant shepherding genetics Maisie had in her background emerged as she gripped at Michael’s pajama pants and started trying to pull him back toward the house.  Her little body, closer to the ground, didn’t seem to be affected by the power that seemed to draw Michael toward the portal.

His notion was further confirmed when he watched as the curtain was torn from the house and fluttered into the air before the portal snatched hold of it and inhaled it like some voracious beast.

While Maisie tugged at his pant leg, her efforts seemed fruitless, as Michael could feel the pull drawing him back further.  He bent low, tossing Zelda forward.

“Go on, both of you!” he said.  “I’ll be right behind you.”

Zelda skittered away, but Maisie lingered a bit.  The man realized that the dog was pulling in the wrong direction then and knew that the portal’s reach drew her in then as well.  Michael fell to his knees to fight against the powerful pull of the vortex, giving him just enough strength to carry on.  He reached under the dog’s chest then, and urged her forward, back toward the house.

“I can help you!” she insisted.

“I know you can,” Michael replied.  “Go ahead back inside so that when I get back in, we can try to shut the door.”

She did as she was told, but she tucked her ears back, feeling as though she wasn’t strong enough to help.  When she and Zelda arrived back into the house, they stood on the threshold, looking back with worry upon their face.

Michael dropped to his chest then, trying to crawl across the snowy ground with all his strength.  It was too late then, however.  The portal had too firm a grasp on him, and he couldn’t gain an inch.  He dug his fingers into the icy ground, desperate not to relent.

Maisie wasn’t the only one who ventured forth with heroics.  Rhianna emerged from the house, grabbing hold of the door frame while she offered up some means of escape for Michael.

He saw the broom then, it’s yellow handle like some golden beacon among the blinding snow.

“That thing is like ten feet too small!” he shouted.

“I have no depth perception!” his wife explained.

“Get me something like a rope or a cord!”

She disappeared back within the house, but the two dogs appeared at the doorway again.

“Catch!” Zelda cried.

One of their toys, a long, stuffed caterpillar, flew from the house, and Michael instinctively lifted his arm to catch it.  He hugged it tight, more to keep it from flying back into the portal.

“We brought you a rope!” Maisie exclaimed.

“Thank you both,” Michael said, fighting with every ounce of strength.  “But I can’t do anything with it when both ends are over here.”

Zelda looked at Maisie then, her eyebrows furrowed.  “You were supposed to hold onto your end.”

“Well how was I supposed to know?” the little black and white dog replied.

“Daddy, just hold on!” Zelda cried.

As Rhianna ran around the house, navigating the same mess in the garage that Michael had, she finally found what she was looking for.  She grabbed hold of it, charging through the untidy area until she reached the kitchen once more, where the cat rested on the runner leading toward the living room.

“You’re just going to sit there, Peanut?” Rhianna asked, shuffling past the cat so as not to disturb her.

“I’m supervising,” Peanut said.

Michael could feel his foot dangling into the portal, and his fingers left deep gouges in the solidified snow where he had been dragged backward.  Though he could not see it, he knew that the red glow that shone out of the vortex had grown bright indeed, as he could see ruby sparkles across the snow in front of him.

His wife emerged from the house, the vacuum in hand.  She plucked the cord from the side of the device and threw it in front of her.  But looped around as it was, only the first length of the cable cast out.

Michael sighed, and let his head bow into the snow.  “Just leave me,” his muffled voice called out.

“No, no I can do this!” Rhianna said.  She bit on her tongue as she set to work on the rest of the vacuum’s cord.  The woman unraveled the lot of it, and she looked up, watching as the crimson glow of the vortex grew in intensity.  A loud roar seemed to echo out of it, as though it was a ferocious monster meant to eat their whole neighborhood, starting with them.

She shook her head and tossed the vacuum cord again.  That time, it reached her husband.

But as Michael lifted his hands from the ground to catch the cable, the portal’s grasp grew too strong to fight.  He caught the cable but couldn’t keep himself from being sucked into the chasm in their back yard.

“No!” Rhianna cried.  On reflex alone, she lunged forward, and at once she felt the fierce pull of the portal.  She grabbed the cord, and to her surprise, it went taut.

She knew that her husband clung onto it still.

Inside the house, Maisie and Zelda stood on the vacuum cleaner, helping to keep it held down.

“Get over here and help us, Peanut!” Maisie ordered.

The cat, still sitting on the runner, simply looked at the two of them.  “You’ve got it covered.  There’s not enough room for all three of us on that growling machine.”

“Fine,” Maisie conceded.  “But there might not be enough room for you on that runner much longer.”

Peanut paused for a moment and looked to the side.  “Is that a fat joke?” she wondered.  But she looked down upon the runner then, and realized that it, too, was being pulled from the house, and at a much quicker pace than she would have liked.  She turned about, and began running in the other direction, but the runner slid from the house faster than she expected, and faster than she could handle.  Before long she tumbled from the lip of the doorway, unable to remain on her feet as the long run slid out from under her.

The disoriented cat heard a gasp as Maisie stepped off the vacuum.

“What are you doing?” Zelda asked.  “I need your help keeping this in place.  You’re the heavy one!”

“I’m sorry!” Maisie said, as she hopped forward.  Peanut looked up at her with big eyes as she felt the pull of the portal behind her.  “I’m sorry!” Maisie cried again, leaping toward the cat.  With just a sliver of hesitation, she chomped at the scruff behind her neck, eliciting a growl and then a dejected meow from the downtrodden feline.  “Ahm thorry!” she said as she struggled to bring Peanut back into the house.

Maisie let out a little yipe as the vacuum rolled out the door, Zelda atop it.  Her little sister let go of Peanut, who skittered back into the house, shivering from the snow upon her coat and her feet.  Maisie lunged for Zelda as she passed, but she moved too quick upon the rolling part of the vacuum.

A moment later the vacuum hit Rhianna in the back of the hand while she was still struggling to hold onto the cable and keep her husband from sinking into the unknown.  Zelda rolled from the vacuum then, and it took the woman a moment to realize who was barreling toward the portal.  She reached out—with both hands—but it was too late, and the auburn-furred dog fell away from her grasp.

“Zelda!” Rhianna cried.

“Ahh!” she heard, though it was not the dog who yelled.

Rhianna realized she had let go of the cable.  As she grasped at it again, the upright part of the vacuum rolled forward, and she caught it beneath her arm.  She couldn’t deny, though, that she was also being drawn into the glowing red maw of whatever strange portal had come to claim them that year.

Behind her, Peanut licked at her paws to try and stave off the cold.  A moment later she was joined in the house by Maisie once more, who shook her body, sending flying droplets over at Peanut, who sighed at her futile attempt to ty and warm herself up.

While she was looking up though, her eyes went wide at the sight of the table slowly sliding toward the doorway as well.  She bumped into Maisie, guiding her out of the way so that neither of them would be hit.

Outside, Rhianna couldn’t fight against the current any longer.  She slid on her rump until her feet nearly hung over the lip of the strange and frightening chasm.  With one last effort, she kicked with all her might, digging in her heels into the ice and snow.  Her top half kept going then, and it was only by pressing the handle of the vacuum into the ground that she stopped her endless fall toward the portal.

She looked over the side then, seeing the bright red color below—like a violent strawberry milkshake, she thought.  But there, hanging on for dear life with his hand wrapped around the vacuum cord, was Michael—and he once more had Zelda held tight against his chest.

“I think Santa just really wants to spend time with us this year!” he called out.

Up above, in the house, all the smaller items in the kitchen slid across counters and fell to the floor as the vortex drew them out.  Peanut hid in the corner of the room, just out of reach of the suction.  As courageous as ever, Maisie wore a determined gaze as she stepped toward the center of the room.

“Nobody better touch my blanket!” she grumbled.

The roar of the portal grew so loud then that the family thought it might have been a dragon instead of some festive holiday phenomenon.

“How are the neighbors not going to notice this year?” Rhianna muttered to herself.  As she spoke though, she heard the struggles of the other two animals who remained in the house.

“Peanut!” Maisie cried.

Both animals struggled against the pull of the vortex, but the cat—the lightest member of the family—had already been drawn outside.  Even with her claws, she couldn’t dig her feet into the snow, and without any traction, she hurtled toward the chasm.

Rhianna reached out, and Peanut wrapped all her limbs around the woman’s arm.

“Don’t let me go!” the cat pleaded.

Without Rhianna’s second arm on the vacuum, it shifted, and Michael shouted in surprise down below.

Rhianna dared a glance over her shoulder, back to the door to the house.  Maisie was outside their home then too, sprinting with all her might, though every step seemed to bring her further and further toward the portal.

“Keep running,” Rhianna called out.  “When you get to me, I’ll grab hold of you!”

That time came sooner than later, with Maisie running out of energy and stumbling.  The dog collided into Rhianna’s chest, ensuring that all five members of the DeAngelo family were together on the precipice, or hanging down into the schism in the earth.

“Michael, I don’t think we’re getting out of this one!” Rhianna called out.

She heard him cry out below, but contending against the loud groan of the vortex, she couldn’t discern what he said.

It didn’t matter anyway, she soon realized, for the ground beneath her had solidified in the sudden icy cold.  She watched as cracks formed around her, as though she lay upon a broken, frozen lake.

“Hold on, you two,” she said, resigned to whatever fate would take them.

She felt Maisie shiver against her chest, and she winced as Peanut dug her claws into her arm.

Then, the ground gave way beneath her, and the three of them tumbled into the seemingly endless pit.  Rhianna heard Michael’s shout then, and the rest of family added their own—a chorus of surprise and worry following them into the vortex.

*          *          *

A shout rang out from between his lips even as he felt gravity shift around him.  Michael knew that he no longer flew down toward the portal, but he clenched his eyes so tightly that he wasn’t aware he was moving skyward rather than careening toward the ground.

For a while, anyway.

“Daddy,” Zelda said, a calm in her voice.  “Daddy?”

Michael opened his eyes, just in time to see a slow fall back toward the surface.

“Daddy!” Zelda cried, for she was not so calm anymore.

The man worked at spinning his body, angling it so that he wouldn’t squish the poor dog when they smacked into the snow.  They landed with a thud, a gasp of air expelling from the poor fellow’s lungs as a cloud of snow splashed into the air.  Zelda bounced off his chest, and skittered into the snow, thankful not to be faced with the roaring monstrosity of the vortex that had taken them.  She sniffed at the ground but kept quiet.

Silence only persisted for another moment as Michael groaned and rolled to his belly, the snow covering his face as he thanked the solid ground beneath him.  Straining to climb to all fours, he traced Zelda’s footprints with his gaze, following them until he found her.

He arched an eyebrow, for she stood at a familiar fence.  Michael turned his head to the side, confirming what he had thought.

They were once again in their backyard, for their house was there before them.

“What the…?” Michael muttered.

As he sat upon his knees, an object fluttered into the air behind him.  Though there was no sunlight to cast a shadow, he felt its presence.  He looked over his shoulder, surprised to see the runner from the house flying across the yard.  It landed beside him, unfurling as it struck the snow.

It wasn’t the only other item that emerged from the portal.

A new choir of shouting rang out, and Michael watched as the rest of his family—and a vacuum cleaner—shot out from the gaping hole in the ground as though they were shot forth from a cannon.  They reached the apex of their flight a moment later, several feet in the air.

Michael clambered to his feet and spun about, hoping to help his loved ones down gently.  As soon as he turned, the vacuum flipped and landed on the ground beside the man, and its cable whipped about.  Michael ducked underneath, just avoiding a nasty lashing.  When he rose again, Peanut was the first to drop from the sky.  He held out his hands to catch her, but when she reached him, she sprang off him with her back legs.

“Rude,” he said, stumbling back a step.

By the time he watched the cat scamper away and he looked back up, Maisie was on her way down as well.  She collided into him with the same heft as a medicine ball, and unprepared as he was, Michael groaned and hunched over.  He knew that his wife wasn’t far behind, and he put Maisie down and urged her away.  Just as before, he had no further warning when he looked up.  Rhianna slammed into him, both falling to the ground then.

“I’m just going to stay here for a while,” Michael said, groaning as the snow soaked into his pajamas.  “The ground wants to be my friend.”

Rhianna moaned as well, sitting up and reaching for her back.  “Why couldn’t you break my fall a little softer,” she asked.  “Ouch.”

“I just played human trampoline to our three fluffies.  I’ve lost some of my elasticity already.”

His wife noticed what he had, moments before then.  The portal had sent them in a circle, it had seemed, for they were right back to where they started.

“What the heck?” Rhianna said.  “This isn’t the North Pole.”  As she stood—leaving her husband on the ground the recuperate—she faced the back of their house.

All three of the animals rested beside the door, closed since they’d left.  Maisie, who had the shortest hair, stood against the glass, pawing at it to be let inside.

“Maybe there were some technical difficulties,” Rhianna said.  “We did know that the timing wasn’t right.”

“I hope that doesn’t happen ever again,” Michael grumbled as he sat up.  “I don’t think I could bear it.  When I was hanging on the cord, it felt like it I was being stretched farther than my body could bear.”  He twisted his body and swung his arms out wide, trying to get rid of the aches that persisted in his back.  “I know I asked Santa to make me taller when I was younger, but I never had that kind of nightmare in mind.”

“You mean you didn’t have violent vortex possession on your 2020 apocalypse bingo card?” Rhianna said.

Michael stood then.  “Can’t say that I…” His words trailed off as he watched the portal close before him.  It had already shrunk considerably since his wife and the other two animals came through, and he found himself watching it until it disappeared completely.

“You know, you could have watched the portal close from inside the warm house!” Peanut grumbled, gaining Michael’s attention.  “If we have to go through with this again later tonight, you four can go on without me.”

“I don’t think anybody was expecting that, Peanut,” Rhianna said.  “It’s never been like that before, right?”

Zelda tilted her head.  “I don’t think so.  I don’t remember seeing Santa or Svetlana or anyone.  And we don’t have any presents.  I don’t think we went at all.”

“I crawled out from under my giant, comfy blanket for this,” Maisie added.

“Alright, alright,” Rhianna said.  She turned to look over her shoulder then.  “Come on Honey,” she said to her husband.  “We’re all soaked.  Let’s change out of our clothes and see what happens closer to midnight.”

Michael did as he was told, but before he walked toward the house again, he picked up snow-dusted runner, the vacuum, and a few stray papers that had followed them through the portal.  He paused to look at the neighborhood, and it seemed that nobody had reacted to the explosive vortex at all.  He shrugged and hummed to himself as he hurried to his wife’s side.

“It looks dark in there,” Michael said as he grabbed the open door and nodded for his wife to venture inside with the vacuum in tow.  “I hope the force of the suction didn’t break the lights.”

“I’m sure Santa would help us out with it if that were the case,” Rhianna said.  “Maybe we just didn’t have them on when we were looking out the back door?”

“I thought the TV was on or something,” Michael replied.

Together, the husband and wife entered the house, and were surprised to see all three of the animals waiting for their arrival in the kitchen.

“What’s this?” Rhianna asked.  “I thought for sure you would be on the living room floor, you would be in the window, and you would be under your massive blanket,” she said to Zelda, Peanut, and Maisie, respectively.

“It’s too dark,” Zelda said.  “We can’t see well enough to go in there.”

As soon as Michael slammed the door shut behind them—hoping that the portal wouldn’t return to rip it open once more—the lights in the room turned on.

The lights were not the same recessed lights that they’d had in their house for nearly five years.  They burned red, and they blasted heat from their specialized glassware.  At once, the family felt the strange increase in temperature in the room.  Michael spun about to open the door, hoping that he could help his family escape into the outdoors again.

Just as before though, the way out wouldn’t open, despite all his efforts.

“What are you waiting for?” Rhianna asked.  “Get us out of here!”

“I’m trying,” her husband said.  “It’s stuck again.”

He cried out and jerked his hand away.  His family heard a harsh buzzing coming from the door then, and the handle rattled as though it was electrified.  In only a moment, the handle retracted into the door—a feature that the husband and wife were sure didn’t exist in the original model.  With Michael safely away from the back exit of the house, a klaxon sounded.  Rhianna instinctively looked to the dogs, who shivered against each other due to the unexpected noise.

Though anxiety already coursed through them, another noise soon followed, as thick metal shutters dropped from the ceiling.  They reached the ground with an echoing thud, and Zelda whimpered, the pitiful little noise distinct between klaxon reports.

Before anyone could say anything to one another, the red lights burned a little brighter, and the DeAngelo family could feel the heat bearing down upon them.  The receptacles they fit within expanded further then, displaying some sort of caged ring.

Peanut, the only one closer to the ground who was still able to think straight, noticed that similar rings had emerged within several of the tiles on the floor, including one right beneath her stomach.

“Uh, what are these?” the cat asked.

As though the house had become sentient and wanted to answer her question, a gust of air blew out from the receptacle on the floor.  The other wider holes in the ceiling—including others that were not around the heat lamps, they soon realized—also blew out air.  An almost comforting hum accompanied them, and Michael and Rhianna realized they were like some sort of industrial-strength dryers.  A moment later, their clothes and hair were dry.

Rhianna looked down toward Peanut and Zelda, whose long fur had puffed out, leaving them looking quite silly indeed.  She couldn’t keep herself from snickering.

The cat looked up at her, her eyes narrowed and her ears back.  “You’ll forget this ever happened, I’m sure,” she insisted.

Before Rhianna could react, the lights and the dryers went off, leaving the place eerily silent.  And with the shutters dropped behind them, the strange rendition of their house went dark indeed.

“Alright, I’m really starting to think this isn’t our house,” Michael said.

“Starting?” Rhianna asked.

Ahead of them, a new light began glowing.  Soft and inviting, it came from their living room, like the gentle flickering of candles.

“What’s that over there?” Rhianna wondered.

Their silhouettes just barely visible in the darkness, the three animals spun about to look in that direction as well.

“At this rate, I’m not sure if I care what it is,” Michael said.  “It’s been a very tiresome ten minutes and I could use a real good sit about now.”

“I’ll share my blanket with you,” Maisie said.  “But just this once!”

“Pfft, you take every opportunity you can to snuggle with us,” Michael teased.  “You’re the least furry one in the house.”

Maisie shrugged and tilted her head, not prepared to fight against that rationale.  “Well… Last one to the couch has to lift the blanket!” she cried as she skittered forth.

Weariness apparent in the way they held themselves—even with the now comfortable warmth in their clothes, hair and fur—none of them were a match for Maisie’s pep.  Together, the older members of the family continued toward their living room.

When they entered the room, however, they realized it was not the one they had been living in all those years.  The way opened into a beautiful library, wider and longer than their living room would have been.  Bookshelves lined the walls on the sides of the room, and across the way, a strange glass case shielded a large ornate mirror.  Michael couldn’t help but picture how it would have looked in their house.

“This would be where the window would be,” he said.

Maisie looked to him with excitement in her eyes then.  “Window?” she repeated.  She charged across the large room, only skidding to a stop as she noticed the glass enclosure that protected the mirror.  She stood up as she reached the area, setting her front paws in place there.  When she did though, she noticed the peculiar sight before her.  “Hey!  Who’s that dog think she is getting in my window!”

“It’s a reflection,” Rhianna tried to explain.

“Yes!” Maisie exclaimed.  “A reflection of injustice!”  It took her a few moments to realize that the dog on the other side of the glass was aping all her movements and mannerisms, and a few more to realize that it wasn’t some rude pup making fun of her.

Michael was already observing other parts of the room.  The library was tremendous—possibly bigger than the entire first floor of their house.  But it was also full to the brim, with many books and furnishings to make it come alive.  A pair of pictures framed the glass box on the opposite side of the room.  When he looked to his right, he saw another enclosed painting on the wall beside them, a lovely gold border that sparkled in the flickering light of the chandeliers that hung from the ceiling.

As he considered those candles, he saw other flickering to his left.  He noticed a Christmas tree there, already adorned with decorations like tinsel and multicolored glass ornaments.  Frosted etchings were fashioned on their surfaces, and he found himself drawn to them at once.

While he found himself just as distracted with the tree as Maisie was with the mirror, Rhianna spent time scrutinizing all the other aspects of the library.  Peanut and Zelda sat at her side, following her gaze—there was a lamp-lit table just a little to the side of the room’s center, sitting beside a gorgeous sepia-toned globe, encircled by a golden ring.  More books sat on the other side of the room, in other bookshelves that stood taller than she or her husband.  The library looked as though it was owned by someone with a passion for books—not just a collector, but one who enjoyed reading at regular intervals, and who had perhaps the same sort of distracted personality as she and Michael.  The books on the shelves weren’t ordered in any fashion, it seemed, with authors and entries in series scattered from one bookcase to the next.  Some were aligned upright with the spines facing outward; some were stacked sideways, and some of those had their pages displayed instead of their spines.  None of them, it seemed, shared their space with any other trinkets or baubles, or even bookends, however.  The only semblance of décor besides the beautiful old covers was the silver garland that hung below the top shelves of the bookcases, and the ornaments that were hooked upon the various strands.  Both sets of decorations seemed to be the same ones that were strewn on the tree that Michael investigated.

As he circled the small Christmas tree—a young but healthy-looking spruce that stood shorter than the man—Michael came to face the way they had come in through.

“Uh… Things keep getting stranger in here,” he said.  “There’s a lock on the door we came through.”

“What door?” Rhianna asked as she stepped further into the room, observing everything with a look of whimsy upon her face.  She was finally able to reign in her excitement, and when she turned to look at Michael, she followed his gaze to the door he spoke of.

Sure enough, there was a wall behind them, and a door beside it.  No such obstructions existed in their home, furthering the idea that some trickery was at play.  Moreover, Michael’s indication that a lock sat upon the door was a bit of an understatement.  The husband and wife both approached the door and realized that there was no handle, yet a hefty padlock that was nearly as large as Michael’s head rested on a length of chain there.

“I didn’t even hear a door shut,” Michael said.  “What’s going on in here?”

Rhianna pushed on the door, wondering if the lock and chain were just for show, since it didn’t appear to be keeping anything fastened shut.  There was no give, however, and she stepped back a moment later, shrugging at the confusing situation.

“There’s worse rooms to be locked within,” she admitted.

“Speak for yourself,” Maisie whined as she stepped away from the glass enclosure.  “I see no food anywhere here.  And that guy in the window won’t tell me anything!”

Michael sighed then.  “I’m starting to think that this might not be part of the adventure Santa may have had planned for us this year.”  When his wife sent him an inquisitive gaze, he shrugged.  “You don’t think he’s been keeping tabs on us over the last nine months?  Do you think he believed us being stuck in a room was a great idea?”

“I see your point,” Rhianna said.  “But if Santa didn’t bring us here, who did?”

“Are we not going to see any of our friends this year?” Zelda asked.  Her voice was pitiful as she considered her first Christmas without visiting some of her favorite people.

Though both Michael and Rhianna opened their mouths to speak, they were not the first to offer words of consolation.

“Santa wouldn’t forget about us,” Peanut said.  She set one of her paws upon Zelda’s back, sending a mixed feeling of relief and panic through the dog’s body.  “I’m sure everything will work out.”

“Well for things to work out, I think we need to get out,” Rhianna said.  She tugged on the large padlock to see if it would release, but there was no sign of escape from there.  “It’s no use.  It won’t budge.”

“Is it a push or a pull?” Michael asked, a teasing reminder of his earlier brain fog.

His wife rolled her eyes and bent low to the ground, seeing that there was indeed a keyhole for the lock.  She hummed to herself.  “What kind of person locks someone in a room with the padlock on the inside?”

Michael looked at her and arched an eyebrow.  “What are you thinking?” he asked.

She grinned, rubbing her hands together mischievously.  “I think we’re in an escape room.  Whether it’s Santa or someone else entirely, well…”

“Is a ‘scape room kind of like a ‘scape goat?” Maisie asked.  “Because I think that would be fun to play with!  Or eat!”

“There will be no eating of any sort in here,” Michael said.  “Mostly because there’s nothing to eat.”

Peanut leaned over and whispered to Zelda then.  “Just give Maisie a minute,” she muttered.  “She’ll find something—even if it isn’t food.”

Zelda snickered to hear the little tease about her younger sister.

“Alright everyone,” Rhianna said, clapping her hands together.  “If this is an escape room, we’ll only have about sixty minutes to escape.”

“Right,” Michael said, as though the rules of typical escape rooms were finally dawning on him.  “And unlike the normal ones we’ve done, we don’t know if we’ll be let out if we don’t win in time.”

Maisie’s eyes went wide as she turned to look at him.  “But I have squirrels to watch from the window!  If not me, then who?”

“Exactly!” Rhianna pressed.  “We’ve got to start looking for clues, and we’ve got to start now.”

“We can just ask him,” Maisie said, spinning about to look at the mirror again.  She stood more to the side then, though, and she didn’t notice her reflection in the glass then.  “Wait a minute.  Where did he go?”

Michael took a few steps forward and tapped her on her rump, pointing toward the lower end of the bookshelves on the closer side of the room.  “Look for anything that’s out of place, alright?”

Peanut joined them there and peered from one outward-facing spine to the next.  “How are we to know what’s out of place if we’ve never been here before?” she muttered to herself.

“Aha!” Zelda called out.  “I see a clue!”  She hopped up on the chair next to the table in the center of the room and looked at the lamp that sat upon the furniture.  Covered in a dark maroon shade, there were etchings that looked like some sort of fancy script upon it.  “Look!” she cried.  “The sun!”

Michael smacked his forehead and turned about to look at the ornaments that hung from the garland that spanned the lengths of the bookshelves.  They were etched too, it seemed, with more angular symbols, almost as though they had been carved with sturdy stones.

“Huh,” he said to himself.  “These look like runes.  I really should have focused more in my old dwarven classes.”  Michael chuckled to himself at that thought.

Rhianna only gave a cursory glance at things as she moved alongside the bookshelves on the opposite side of the room.  She noticed some of the titles that faced her.  Most were old—classics among literature—although some were unfamiliar to her.

“The Poor Man and the Lady, Cardenio, Don Quixote, White Nights, Fortunata, Middlemarch.”  She hummed to herself as she looked at the covers, every now and then picking one out of their spots to shift it and get a better look at them.  None of the covers was thoroughly illustrated; no matter how old one seemed, they were all emblazoned with a simple gilded symbol, and an etched title, but not much else.

She shook her head and moved along, until she reached the wall beside the glass enclosure.  A pair of paintings was there, each of them showing old constructions of castles and fortresses.  One of them was no longer anything but a pile of ruins, an almost still stream depicted before it, and some autumn trees in the corner of the work.  The other showed a more distant building in the background, sitting upon the sea, spiked parapets reaching toward the heavens while a woman sat on a blanket and pondered her life in the foreground.

“Pfft, this is boring,” Maisie said.  She spun back to look for the other dog in the so-called window, but once again couldn’t see her reflection from that angle.  She did see the mirrored image of the globe though, and she grew interested in it.  “Wait a minute… That’s a big ball!  Somebody, throw it for me!”

Nobody paid attention to her request, all enthralled in their own searches—except for Peanut, who chose to observe everyone else’s failed endeavors in finding any sort of clue in the room.  Maisie was undeterred though, and she ran to the table, jumping onto the chair that Zelda stood upon while she sniffed at the old lamp before her.  The pup was momentarily distracted by her sister’s interest in the other nearby objects, but she hopped up on the table a moment later, careful to avoid stepping on the opened tome that rested on table.

Her shadow danced across the old pages of the book, and in the warm light of the lamp, the flicker across the yellowed sheets caught Zelda’s attention.  She looked to the book then, choosing to ignore the script upon the lamp.

The older dog’s focus fell to the pictures on the opened pages first.  At the top of the left page, a red rectangular sat centered on the page, with two dark blue perpendicular lines running through it.  Ancient, browning ink was written in the pages, and upon that one, strange shapes were made that meant nothing to the little dog.  She looked to the other side and noticed an illustration of a golden lion standing proud with an axe clutched in its hands.

“Hey, I found Peanut’s ancestor,” Zelda attempted to tease, though she knew better than to let the cat hear it.

She thought that Maisie had caught the joke though, for the black and white dog began wagging her tail, smacking Zelda in the face every few moments as she did.  Zelda blinked her eyes and turned her head away to avoid the surprisingly sturdy tail’s momentum.  She ventured a glance toward the globe, which Maisie pawed, sending it spinning about in its stand.

Zelda almost joined her atop the table to look at the sepia-colored sphere as it rolled endlessly, producing a satisfying sound that calmed her.  But as she stretched her legs to prepare for her jump onto the table, she spotted something on the pages in front of her that kept her rooted where she was.

“Aha!” she cried.  When her family all stopped to look at her, they caught her enchanted by her discovery.  “I can’t read!” she deduced.

The rest of the DeAngelo family returned to their own searches then.  Michael moved onto the tree in the corner of the room close to where they had entered.  Not much jumped out at him there, but he did notice that the ornaments clinging to its branches were of the same variety as those that hung from the garland on the bookcases.

Peanut, in the same predicament as her canine siblings, couldn’t really help to identify any of the writing on the spines or covers of the books.  Every few moments though, she would step closer to the shelves and sniff at one of the many volumes.

“I’m making a mental note,” she said.  “That one smells like fish.  I will return to that one later.”

Rhianna switched to the opposite side of the room then, looking at another two paintings of old architecture.  Nothing particular looked interesting to her on either of those—one displayed a castle town amidst a snowy landscape, and the other showed a long fortress battlement that spanned the length of the painting, with an opened portcullis in the background that led toward a beautiful pink and blue horizon.  But without any clues jumping out at her, she chose to look around, under and even behind the paintings instead.  Still, it didn’t seem that there was anything about the paintings that were worthy of note.  She thought to count the merlons on the castle walls, or the birds that flew in the skies.  But of the four paintings she saw, some did not have either of those features.

The woman recalled the painting on the other side of the room as well then, and she turned to gaze upon it.  Even with her contacts in, Rhianna couldn’t see across the room, and she merely shrugged, figuring she’d be back there in a moment anyway.  But as she turned her body back toward the wall beside her, she spotted something peculiar within the glass enclosure.  The mirror that Maisie had been fascinated with sat upon rails, it seemed, able to be shifted back and forth.  More interesting, however, there seemed to be a beam of light that fell behind it, falling from the ceiling of the room to land behind the mirror, and none had seen it before her.

“That’s interesting,” she said.

“I feel like I’m not getting anywhere,” Michael piped up then.  “I’ve been looking at these ornaments for what feels like forever.  I feel like I’m going to have to focus on the books soon, and that’s going to be a lot of work.”

“Tell me about it,” Zelda huffed.  “I can’t even get past this single page.”  The rest of her family thought she was making a statement about the subject matter, or her inability to decipher human writing, but they could hear her shuffling to the next page, and they could hear her sign then as well.  As they turned to look at her, she offered up some clarification.  “It just keeps coming back to this page!”

Sure enough, as she swatted at the pages again, even holding the book down for a moment afterward, the book worked some mysterious magic, and returned to its previous placement.

“That’s not normal,” Michael said, leaving the books and baubles behind.

Rhianna moved over to the table, too, and both she and her husband looked down at the book in front of Zelda, noting the same things that she had seen—although they could also see the words a little more clearly.  Though it was written with what looked like the common alphabet, they could see that the language wasn’t English, with a few umlauts scattered about here and there.

“What’s Norge?” Rhianna asked.

Michael looked to the items on the page, not feigning for a moment to be able to ready any of the writing.  But he closed his eyes as he searched for something in their past that was just on the periphery of his memory.

“Do you remember a couple of years ago when Santa gave us that book?”

“Oh yeah!” Rhianna said.  “So, does that mean…?”

“I think the book is trying to tell us about Norway.”

His wife shrugged.  “Yeah, but neither of us can speak Norwegian.”

“Or read it,” Michael said.  His eyes lit up, and he grinned as he looked at his wife.  “But maybe we don’t have.  Maybe this was just a small clue.”

“The globe!” Rhianna said, excited as she thought they were on the way to figuring out the first riddle in the escape room.

Throughout their conversation, Maisie continued to swat at the globe beside the table, panting in excitement as she watched it spin.  Michael and Rhianna arrived beside her then, and they stuck their hands out to slow the rotation of the sphere.

“Hey!” Maisie cried.  “I was having fun with that.”

“You’re supposed to be helping us figure out how to get out of here,” Rhianna laughed at the pup.  “What’s spinning the globe going to do?”

While she distracted Maisie, Michael slowly shifted the globe into place beneath a magnifying glass upon the golden railing that circled it.  Before long, he had found the country of Norway on its surface, and he situated it beneath the lens.

They heard a little shift from inside the globe then, and a red light cast out upon the floor.  At once, the fifth member of their family ceased what she was doing and hurried beside the table.  Peanut was entranced by the red dot on the floorboards, and she tilted her head as she studied it.

“Well, what did that accomplish?” Michael asked.

“Hey! The page is changing!” they heard Zelda say then.

Sure enough, as they turned to regard the dog and her book, they saw that the sheets flowed forward, away from the original picture of Norway, its coat of arms, and the unfamiliar writing upon its entry.  Stranger still, even though the pages moved, it didn’t seem to diminish the number of pages, or add to them on either side of the tome.  Michael shook his head as he watched the magic work, failing to understand it.

“Alright, what does it say now?” he asked.

Rhianna shrugged as she looked over the book.  “It’s still in a language I can’t read, but there’s another picture.  It looks like there’s some sort of symbol near the peninsula of Norway, if that is the same country we were just looking at.”

“Hmm,” Michael said.  “Maybe we have to…”  He paused, for when he looked at the globe, the rest of the continents were gone, with only an enhanced map of Norway and its surrounding countries displayed on the sphere instead.  “What the…?” Michael murmured.  “I mean, I guess it is magic.”

He didn’t hesitate any longer, shifting the globe a little bit at a time.  Maisie reached out and swatted at it as well.  Michael chuckled and pet her behind her ears.

“I’m helping,” she said.

“Yes, you are,” he agreed.

As they altered the position of the globe, the little red dot that emerged from the globe moved as well.  Peanut took great interest in it, following it as it moved across the floor, and eventually onto the shelf.  It took all her effort to keep herself from leaving into the air to swat at the little light.

None of the others on the table realized that Peanut investigated the light that cast out from the globe, too interested in ensuring the globe was positioned as it was intended.

“Does that look right?” Michael asked.

“A little to the left,” Rhianna said.

“The right,” Zelda corrected.

Rhianna paused to consider which way she meant, and then pointed toward the right.  “That way,” she conceded in agreement.

As Michael moved along the coast of Norway, words began emerging from within the tan-colored globe, the text colored in a bold red tint.  He wasn’t certain, but it seemed that they were likely the names of towns and cities.

“There!” Zelda said.

Michael had already felt the globe shift into place, and he watched as the name of the city came into view.  “Egersund,” he read then.

“What’s that mean?” Rhianna asked.

Michael shrugged.  “I’m not sure, but something had to have happened, right?”

When they turned around, they could see that the light was no longer on the floor, but three shelves up—just about eye level for the humans, but a sizable leap for the interested cat.  Peanut already lined up her jump, her legs shifting into place, her muscles tensing.

“Wait a minute, Peanut,” Rhianna said.  “What are you doing?”

If the cat seemed at all like she was concerned with being reprimanded, it didn’t show.  She hopped up to the third shelf with ease, and swatted as she landed there.

But Peanut didn’t calculate that taking a swat at the book that the red dot sat upon could have consequences.  When her claw came down, it poked between the pages there, and when she felt that sudden change in her poise, she panicked.  The cat kicked off of the base of the shelf, and began falling back, taking the book with her.

Michael was there a second later, catching the spooked feline.  The book fell away from her paw and landed on the ground below with a thud—and a stronger one than would typically come from a book, the family noted.

While Peanut squirmed, Michael was quick to place her on the ground, knowing that to do otherwise was to risk an unceremonious spring from the cat where her claws would dig into his chest or stomach.  She hopped away from him anyway and began licking at her paws as if her fall was nonchalant—everyone knew she was licking away her embarrassment, however.

Rhianna moved to grab up the book, and when she plucked it off the ground, she noted that it felt a bit heavier than she would have expected for a hardbound piece of literature.  She turned it about and looked at the title on the spine.

“Through the Looking Glass,” she said.

It didn’t have the author’s name—only the publisher emblazoned across the bottom of the spine in gold text—but Rhianna was certain that it was the sequel to Lewis Carroll’s adventures of Alice.  She looked at the front as well, where there was no title at all.  Instead, only the symbol of a crowned queen rested there.  Those with little knowledge of Carroll’s work might have otherwise been underwhelmed with the find, but Rhianna couldn’t hide her excitement.

She cracked the book open but was surprised (and a bit disappointed) to see that it was a false book, meant to look like one, but fashioned to open to a specific point that displayed a very specific bit of information.

“Look at this,” Rhianna said, showing the inside to Michael.

The contents of the book showed a runic symbol that looked almost like a table flipped upon its left side.  It was encircled by a ring of brown ink, similar in color to the text of the book that Zelda continued scrutinizing at the table.

Michael hummed to himself.  “I think I’ve seen this before.”  He raised his finger, and turned back to the shelves, looking from one hanging decoration to the next.  “I know I have.  I saw it on one of the ornaments on the garland.”

While he began looking from one colored ball to the next, Rhianna held the book open and began looking toward the tree.

All the while, Maisie resumed swatting at the globe.  The little red light danced across the bookshelves, the floor and even on Peanut.  She was insistent that she would no longer be caught up in any dot-chasing antics, and she made a point of looking away as it flung this way and that.

Rhianna pointed from one ornament on the tree to the next as she worked her way around and from the top down.  Every few moments she looked back to the book to remind herself of how the rune was composed.  Finally, she saw one that matched upon the tree.

“Aha!” she said, gaining Michael’s attention.

He turned, and she held an open hand beneath a blue ornament upon which was etched the strange rune.  She presented it with great pride, though she left it where it was upon the tree.

“That’s so strange,” Michael said.  “I’m certain I saw that same rune hanging from one of the strands of garland.”

“It’s okay,” Rhianna said.  “Just know that I won.”

Michael furrowed his brow and looked to the garland as though it had betrayed him then.  But he arched his eyebrow in curiosity then as he looked to the other side of the room then.  He grinned and pointed there, past the table where Zelda and Maisie still played with the book and the globe.

“There,” he said.  “I knew that I had seen it somewhere else.”

“Oh, forget you and your good eyes,” Rhianna grumbled.  “But if there’s two of them, maybe one is right, and one isn’t?”

“I dunno,” Michael replied with a shrug.  He crossed the room and plucked a red ornament off the string of garland, observing it a little more closely then.  It seemed just the same as all the others: a white etching of a rune within one of the colored spheres.  “Maybe the color of the ornament is important?  What color is the rune made of in the book?”

“It’s just brown, like old ink,” Rhianna said.

The two converged near the center of the room then, along with their pets.  Even Peanut had hopped onto the table then, looking about the room for more items that might have been of use to them.

“Here,” Michael said.  “Let’s look at them side by side.

As he and Rhianna brought the two ornaments together, they were surprised to watch the pair of them disintegrate from their hands.  Both baubles turned to colored dust and scattered away from them as though a gust of wind had entered the room—though neither of them felt it.

“What just happened?” Rhianna gasped.  “I promise, I didn’t break anything!”

“I didn’t either,” Michael insisted.  “I think that something was supposed to happen when we brought them both together.”

As though the room itself was listening to the conversation, it seemed to moan as a scrape of glass on stone reported in the room.  Everyone looked about then, trying to determine where the noise came from.  Rhianna, however, was already familiar enough with the glass case that surrounded the mirror, and she looked in that direction.  Maisie realized what she was looking at then as well, and she ceased paying attention to the globe to spring down to the chair, and subsequently the floor.  She and Rhianna both reached the glass enclosure while it still sank into the ground then.

“My friend!” Maisie said, spinning about in excitement as the last several inches dropped into the hollow area beneath the floor.  “You’re free!”

Michael, Zelda and Peanut lingered by the table, wondering what it was that the other two had discovered.

Rhianna continued forward, until she was reflected in the mirror then as well.

“Wait a second,” Maisie said, ceasing her spin while her eyes grew wide.  “My friend has a mommy too!”

“That’s you, you nitwit!” Peanut grumbled, exasperated.

While Rhianna circled the mirror, looking for anything else that might have appeared off, Maisie sat down in front of it, lifting one paw, and then the other.  Finally, she realized that the dog on the other side of the looking glass was indeed just her mirror reflection.

“I knew that,” she said.  “I knew that the whole time.”

“This is what happens when we get no social interaction all year,” Zelda said, glancing at Michael and looking for sympathy.

Rhianna hadn’t heard the comment, but even if she had, the idea of being stuck in an unfamiliar place held precedence in her mind.  She focused on the task ahead and cast her gaze once again to the rails that the mirror sat within upon the floor.

“I noticed those earlier,” she said, more to herself than to the dog by her side.  “I think the mirror might be able to move.”  She reached the looking glass and placed her hands against the sides of the stand that kept it upright.  Then, with all her strength, Rhianna began pushing upon it, budging it forward inch by inch.

She felt it relent a bit more, and she noticed that Maisie joined her there, pushing against the mirror as well as she stood upon her hind legs.

A moment later, the golden light that shone from the ceiling cast down in front of the mirror rather than behind it, and Rhianna knew she had succeeded in her latest undertaking.

“Yes,” she said, shaking her fist in the air.

“Hurray!” Maisie cried.  “Um… What did that do?”

“What do you mean?” Rhianna asked.  “It made that light come down from the ceiling.”

They both stared at each other in silence then, for the truth of the matter soon became apparent.  The light casting down meant nothing without further context.

They both heard a sigh from behind them then.  Michael made his way from the table, passing them on their side.  He grabbed the mirror and gave it a little push at its top.

“It’s got little bolts to keep it in place, but it’s meant to be angled.”  He turned to look at the direction where he was sure the light would go, and let out a little whistle, catching the attention of the older pair of animals.  “Zelda, Peanut, slide out of the way.  I don’t want to blind you.”

Before either of them could think of a silly or snarky comment, he shifted the mirror backward.  The golden light fell upon the bottom of the mirror as it tilted upward, and the reflected illumination radiated beneath the table and then upon it before hitting the opposite wall.  The light dispersed as it shone further, but Michael already realized what was going to happen.  As the widened beam of light—nearly imperceptible from that distance—fell upon the painting near the door they had entered from, it caused a reaction in the painting.  The white sky above the fortress on the canvas turned black, except for a few stray lines that even Michael couldn’t see from that far away.

Rhianna hurried to the other side of the room and studied the revealed secret.  “It’s a constellation!” she explained.

“Do you know which one?” Michael asked.  “I don’t know what a constellation is going to tell us otherwise.”

His wife tilted her head as she considered the question.  “I think it’s the Big Dipper,” she said.  “But it might be the Little Dipper.”  She hummed to herself.  “Either way, it’s a dipper.”

Michael hummed to himself again, trying to make sense of why such a combination of symbols would show up within the painting.  As best he could tell, there were no ornaments fixed in such a way that would show a similar layout as the constellation.

“Hey, the book changed again,” Peanut said.  “I don’t know how to read any better than this one,” she went on, nodding toward Zelda.  “But it looks at least a little more like the stuff you two know how to read.”

Michael and Rhianna converged on the table once more, and their sight settled on the book.  Sure enough, the pages finally showed something in a language they understood.

The two pages seemed to be broken down into sections.  The writing had diminished in size, but there was much more of it.  There were numbers, too, centered at the top of each of the pages, with category classes underneath.

“Oh wow,” Michael said.  “I haven’t seen these in forever.  I think I need to get to a library more often.”

“Is that the Dewey Decimal System?” Rhianna asked.

“It sure is,” he replied.  “Look for astronomy.  Maybe there’s some books here that have some relevance to the Big Dipper.”

The left page focused on the last several entries of science.  570 was biology, 580 was plants, and 590 belonged to animals.  The right page, on the other hand, showed the first few categories of the technology classes.  600 was general technology, 610 was medicine and health, and 620 was engineering.

“Alright there’s something particular we’re looking for here,” Rhianna said, looking at all the books in the shelves before them.  “Do you see anything about astronomy or astrology in there?”

Michael peered at the technology classes, tracing down each of the categories.  “I’m not seeing anything in here.  What else could we be looking for?”  He bowed his head and tried to understand what it was that the Big Dipper was trying to tell them.”  He snapped his fingers as he made a revelation then.  “What is the Big Dipper part of?”

Pausing for a moment to try and remember, Rhianna tilted her head.  “The Bear?” she guessed.

“Ursa Major,” Michael agreed.  “So maybe we aren’t looking for stars or anything related to science, but…”  He moved to the first displayed page of the book and stopped his finger upon the category for animals.  “590 should be the one we’re looking for.”

“590 what?” Rhianna asked.  “It isn’t like…” Her voice trailed off then as she looked to the shelves in front of them.  “They weren’t there before, were they?”

She pointed to the bookcases, even looking over her shoulder.  There were gold etchings within the wooden cases, each shelf corresponding, it seemed, to a different numbered category.  The shelf associated with animals was across from the one on the others side of the room that held the false book for Through the Looking Glass.”

Rhianna made her way in that direction, perusing the titles displayed on the spines of the books from left to right.  “Moby Dick, The Call of the Wild, The Tale of Peter Rabbit…” She paused then as she looked at a book with a green cover, with little animals drawn down the spine in gold.  “Baloo is a bear, right?” she asked.  It was a rhetorical question, but she heard Michael confirm her thought.  With no further hesitation, Rhianna reached up to grab the book.

The woman was surprised, then, to feel no give between it and the other books surrounding it. Going even further than the single false book on the opposite side of the room, she realized that every book on the shelf before her was fake.  With a grin on her face, she reached up, and pulled on the top of The Jungle Book.  It tilted toward her, but never left its spot in the bookcase.

A rewarding tone sounded, like a distant trumpet that heralded the family’s victory.

Rhianna expected some other kind of reveal then, but she wasn’t expecting the bookshelf itself to push backward, away from her before shifting to the side.  The work that she had done to unveil the secrets of the library had revealed a brand-new room, it seemed, though it was still shrouded in darkness.

“Huh,” Michael said.  I would have expected to find a key for that padlock or something.”

His wife shrugged.  “Maybe we still do have to get back out by going that way.  But perhaps the key is deeper within that room.  The only thing is, I can’t see further than my hand in there.  Do we have any light to brighten it for us?”

“The mirror only pivots backward and forward,” Peanut said then.  “And I don’t see anything else in here that you can use as a light source.”

“You just gotta be brave!” Maisie yelled, running into the darkness.

“Wait, Maisie!” Rhianna cried, reaching out as the little black and white dog sprinted past.  “We don’t know what’s in there!”

Maisie’s quick dash stopped when she disappeared within the dark veil.  But within just a few seconds, a distant light in the room offered the DeAngelo family the way forward.

“See?” the pup called out from within the next room.  “It’s just like back home with the sleepy lights that wake up when I’m there!”

All the other members of her family could see her then, and they could see her tail wagging vigorously as she took account of everything that was there in the room.

“Now this is what I’m talking about!” she said.  It didn’t take long for her to charge deeper into the room then, out of sight from the rest of her family.

Rhianna was quick to follow her, but the others remained by the table in the library.

“Whoa,” Rhianna said.  “This room is huge.”

Michael looked to the other two animals and shrugged a bit.  “Well, there goes my hope that it was just one last little room that had the key to the padlock,” he said.  He tousled the other dog and the cat along their backs before he started after his wife and Maisie.

Peanut jumped down from the table and moved on ahead of Michael, but Zelda turned about to use the chair as another step on the way down.  Before she did though, she noticed something peculiar on the table.

“Ooh, shiny,” she said.

That caught Michael’s attention, and he looked over his shoulder to see that the older dog was entranced with the book that had given them little clues throughout their time in the library.

“What’s got you so spellbound?” he asked.  He returned to Zelda then, and knew the answer to his own question a moment later.  The tome was devoid of any writing, then, but it almost looked as though a rolling golden wave cast over the pages.  “I think the book wants to come with us,” Michael said.

Zelda nodded excitedly, and she pawed at it then.  “You’re going to have to get it though.  I don’t have thumbs.”

Laughing, Michael scooped her up first.  He pecked her on the head before setting her on the ground, and then he turned back for the book.  Another glimmer of gold seemed to travel from one corner of the book to the opposite side, perhaps a little more fervently then.  Michael grabbed the tome and closed it, half surprised that it let him.

The front cover of the book was just as mundane as the others that he and his family had seen in the library.  An evergreen tree was framed in a small circle about the size of a quarter, though it had been emblazoned in golden ink.  Just beneath it, the title of the book stated that it was called Yuletide Stories.

“Well, this certainly will be one we’re going to tell,” Michael said as he gathered up the book.

He heard a chorus of excitement and contentment coming from the other room then, and he hurried along to join the rest of his family there.

Their reactions were well-earned, it seemed, for that room seemed even grander than the library.  Its reach stretched far and wide, a roaring fireplace much further to their side, along where the looking glass was in the previous room.  Along the way there, however, was a feasting table that was filled to the brim with hearty and savory food, glasses of eggnog, and a few festively shaped cookies scattered about here and there.

“This looks just like last year!” Maisie cried in excitement.

“And with no magical gemstones you can swallow in sight,” Rhianna teased.

“I thought it was a tasty dessert!” Maisie grumbled.

While the rest of his family looked about at the food upon the table—for not enough cookies had been eaten at home—Michael continued to inspect the second room they had found their way into.  It almost seemed as though the feast for them was a reward, but Michael thought otherwise.  It was a distraction, and yet another room to escape, he was sure.

On the opposite side of the room sat a medieval kitchen, with stone-laden walls, a brick oven that had more char marks within and around it than the fireplace on the far wall, and some indentations in the wall where food or wood storage would remain.  Pots, jars and small barrels lined shelves against the wall, no doubt filled with baking goods or herbs or the like.

Above them, it looked as though a thatched roof rested atop the room.  Michael narrowed his eyes, knowing that if it was accessible, they’d likely be able to tear through it, and escape to safety.  But he was certain that there was some treachery afoot.  They wouldn’t be allowed to leave—not without completing the game.

Still, he wasn’t about to jump to conclusions without testing his theory.  He walked to the feasting table, and grabbed warm, baked roll off a plate near the center.  The way he walked up to that single piece of bread with purpose was not lost to his family either.  They turned and looked to him while he gazed up at the ceiling.

Then, without hesitation, he threw the roll into the air.

“Why would you do that!” Maisie cried while everyone else looked on in confusion.

But Michael’s hypothesis was correct, he realized, for the roll slammed against an unseen layer of glass that protected the thatched roof from would-be escapees.

He caught the hunk of bread on its way back down, and he tore off a piece in his mouth, humming as he considered the trap in which they remained.

“Well that was odd,” Rhianna said.  “And yet, not the oddest thing that has happened to us today.”

The members of the DeAngelo family picked at the food on the table then, realizing that all of it was quite warm and fresh.  It appeared the person who had set it out for them had quickly set it all upon the table as they were finishing the puzzles in the library, and somehow disappeared from the room before they could be spotted.

“Solving puzzles is hard work,” Rhianna said with a shrug, before she reached for a glass of eggnog.

Michael nodded, and picked at a few of the various appetizers upon the table.  “Just make sure we don’t lose sight of our real goal here.  We need to get out of whatever this place is, and if there is a time limit, the clock is still ticking.”

As he spoke, he moved to the other side of the table, and pushed the chairs there closer, helping the animals get a better spot to determine what they wanted.  Maisie was the first to jump up to the banquet table, her eyes growing wide at the sight of all the food before her.  Peanut and Zelda joined her a few moments later, each curious to see what options they had.

The cat sniffed discriminately from one dish to the next but didn’t take a bite of anything while her sisters noshed on a few items they could reach.

“I don’t see any fish,” Peanut said.

Rhianna looked about, noticing that none of the dishes present qualified as what she would consider a main course.  That included the prized food choice for the persnickety puss.  “Maybe these aren’t the full meals,” Rhianna said.  “It’s practically criminal not to have fish on Christmas Eve,” she argued.

“Christmas Eve, Eve,” Michael corrected.  “And maybe the entrees haven’t been brought out yet.”

Maisie stepped up a little higher against the table, her eyes gleaming at that point.  “You mean there will be more?”

Zelda, quiet until that point as she savored the food she carefully selected, tilted her head.  “Maybe we have to find our own dinners,” she said.

Rhianna grinned.  “That’s right!  And maybe when we do, we’ll find the key that gets us out of the library, too.”

The family heard a scraping toward the library then and turned to regard it.  The bookcase that opened into the second room slid shut again, as though the feasting hall had been listening to the conversation.  Far enough away from it as they were, none of DeAngelo family even made a move to stop it.

Michael turned back to his loved ones and sucked the flaky crumbs of the bread off his fingers.  “Something makes me think we’re not going to be going back to the library.”  He felt a rumbling along his side then, and reached for his pajama pocket, as though he was looking for his phone.  When he recalled that he hadn’t had it with him when he’d gone through the portal, he arched an eyebrow, wondering what he had felt.  The sensation moved through his arm then, and he realized that it was the book in his hand.

“What’s going on?” Rhianna asked when she saw him open it.

Her husband’s reaction grew stranger when his eyes displayed a reflection of flames.  “I’m thinking the book is trying to tell us something.”  He swept some of the dishes, cups and baskets upon the table to the side, and set the book down upon it.

From there, the rest of his family could see that a new image was shown in the open tome, the left page in motion with a crackling, faded red flame.

“What does it mean?” Zelda asked.

Rhianna shrugged.  “The only fire we’ve seen in here at all is the hearth over here,” she said, pointing to the fireplace.

She looked in that direction, looking at the mantel above it.  Some strange trophies—drinking steins and stone carvings—rested there, lending the room some extra personality.  They kept up with the Scandinavian feeling that they had experienced through the library’s clues.  Still, looking at them, Rhianna couldn’t think of anything over there that would lead to a revelation of any sort.

“Hey, look!” Peanut said, leaning closer to the book then.  Even her excitement was apparent as she spoke, though when the others looked at her with appreciative smiles, she shrank back and looked away.  “I mean, it’s interesting if you’re into that sort of thing.”

By the time the others shifted their glances to the tome instead of the cat, they noticed what she had as well.  Words began to show in the fiery picture on the left side of the page.  The right page remained blank, even after the message was displayed.

Michael placed his finger to the page, noticing that even the depiction of the fire within the book seemed to emanate with a strange heat.  He shook his head, dismissing the interesting notion as he read along with the words that shimmered in the dark brown ink that seemed to appear from thin air.

“Find the page bare, and then prepare,” the man said.

“A secret note, the bill of fare,” his wife spoke the next line.

“In the text revealed by flames,” Michael said next.

“Study close and watch the names,” Rhianna finished.

“I’ll say the next line!” Maisie announced, unaware that there wouldn’t be another one.  She looked at the two rhyming couplets, and imagined it saying something she would understand.  “Maisie has a grumbling belly.  Give her a peanut butter and jelly.  A sandwich is fine, but if you can’t tell, she’ll eat from the jars, just as well.”

Michael and Rhianna paused before they looked at each other and laughed.

“Well that was adorable,” Michael said.  “But I don’t think there’s any peanut butter and jelly here.  We’ll just have to try and see if we can make our way through these puzzles.  Besides, there’s plenty of yummy stuff here for you.  In the meantime, let’s see if we can’t figure out the riddle we just read!”

The five of them broke from the table then, each going in their own direction.  Michael headed around the table, back toward the kitchen, while his wife moved closer toward the fireplace.  Zelda and Peanut looked on opposite sides of the room but found the walls mostly unremarkable—with the one separating them from library mostly too dark to see anyway.

Maisie pushed aside one plate after another, saying “nothing under that one,” each time she discovered no hidden clues.  And each time she found that nothing was present, she rewarded herself with a little snack.

Beside the fireplace, Rhianna took closer account of the statuettes and curios that rested upon the mantel.  She looked at them from right to left, noticing the strange, ancient-looking items.  There was a stone tablet upon which had been etched a dagger; an old hammer-shaped trinket with the tree of life emblazoned into its side rested upon its blunted head; a bowl sat in the center of the mantel, just above where flickering flames made their way up toward the chimney.  The bowl was as antiquated as the rest of the items, but it looked a little less worn.  Two heads extended from either side, fashioned to look like horses or dragons, though the finer details were lost to time.  Though it seemed to be fashioned out of old wood, a closer inspection found it made of stone that had a wood-like appearance.  Rhianna noticed a strange circular depression in the bottom of the bowl, and shrugged, thinking whatever liquid it had held over its history had left it dilapidated.  A statuette beside it illuminated some old god, but just as the figureheads leading off the bowl, a great deal of the features had eroded with time.  An ale tankard rounded out the group of items atop the mantel, the old cup losing some of its luster, but preserving much of its character.

Rhianna tried to get a better look of the horn-shaped tankard, but she found that it was fastened to the mantel.  One by one, she confirmed that each of the five items there were stuck firmly to the stone shelf above the fireplace.  She grumbled as she turned her attention elsewhere, knowing that time was proving to be against them.

On the opposite side of the room, Michael returned to the kitchen.  With a little more focus and attention, he scrutinized every inch of the place.  Special utensils—ladles, a large whisk, and a baker’s peel hung from the wall by the room’s masonry oven.  Michael wore a confident grin as he opened the oven, thinking that it would be the perfect place to hind some sort of clue.  When he looked inside though, there was nothing special about it.  A smaller slot was fashioned beneath the main gate, where wood or coal could be ignited to heat the area above.  There was nothing there either, as though all the fuel had been stripped of the place.

“I guess they don’t want us baking anything in here,” Michael muttered.

As he continued to peruse that part of the kitchen, Peanut walked behind him, looking at a bench that sat against the opposite wall.  It wasn’t meant for sitting, adding to the aesthetic instead, as it held lengthy brown containers of different shapes upon it.  The cat stood up on the bench, sniffing at the containers, but judging them unremarkable.  Before she could look away though, she noticed a peculiar item squeezed between two of the tubes.

“Umm, servant?” she asked.  When she didn’t hear a response from Michael, she looked in his direction.  He was still busy looking at the objects near the oven, and he didn’t hear her.  “Hey, you,” she said, but again was ignored.

Peanut sighed, then, and reached up trying to grasp the object—a piece of parchment, it seemed—between two of her claws.  It was just out of range, and she struggled to stretch a little further.

The cat lost her balance then, tipping forward and tapping one of the tubes.  She meowed in fright as the container fell to its side and rolled off the bench.  With the fur on her spine sticking up, she took off back toward the feasting table.

Michael finally turned around then.  His interest was piqued by the strange sounds that had rang out behind him.

As he took a step toward the fallen container, the parchment that it had leaned against fell without the support of another object holding it upright.  Michael watched as it landed on the bench and noticed that there was nothing written on its face.  It almost seemed as though it had been pulled out of the magic tome they had taken from the library.

In order to be certain, he plucked the page up from the bench, and looked at the opposite side then as well.  Sure enough, it was also blank there.

“Hey, look what I found,” he announced to his family.

“You?” Peanut grumbled.  “This should be my glory.”  She slinked beneath the table, looking at the rest of the family through narrowed eyes, as sour a puss as she could muster.

As Rhianna hurried toward him, he was already on his way over to the fireplace.

“The ‘page bare’, right?” he asked.  “Now it’s time to see if a little heat gives us a message of some sort.”

“Let me see that?” Rhianna asked, peering around Michael’s arm to look at the blank page.

“There’s nothing on it,” Michael said as he turned it to better face his wife.

“Aha!” she shouted, snatching the paper from his hand.  She hurried over to the fireplace; her eager anticipation was apparent to the rest of her family.

“More power to you,” her husband said.  “Just remember, whenever a kitchen and heat intermingle, you seem to have a bad time!”

Rhianna hesitated before she reached the fireplace and considered Michael’s words.  Her shoulders slumped and she pouted a bit before she held up the parchment, awaiting her husband’s arrival.

“Gimme that,” he said, snatching it back from her.

He leaned over and kissed her on the head before he nudged her closer to the fire, ensuring that it was an experience they would both witness together.

Even Michael hesitated to let the flames touch the paper; he didn’t want their latest clue to go up in smoke.  But as he pushed it further toward the hearth, he was excited to see brown-tinged words appear on the parchment.  Even when the fire seemed to flicker against the back of the page, it was safe from any harm, not even a charred smudge appearing across its face.  A moment later, the reaction was complete, with a plentitude of new clues revealed.

Michael held it out to Rhianna, who grabbed it in her hands once more, as though she was the one who had unlocked the latest mysteries.  She reviewed it for a moment before tilting her head in confusion.

“What’s this?” she asked.

Maisie lowered her head and turned around, wondering if perhaps she was in trouble for sampling all the different foods upon the table.

“Apple-crusted Meatballs?” she read aloud.

Michael arched an eyebrow then.  “You know, I wouldn’t be opposed to trying that.”

“Rutabaga Roulade,” his wife said next.

“Okay, you lost me,” he said, throwing up his hands.

“Olle… Ollebrod?” Rhianna said, trying her best to find the correct pronunciation.  “Smoked salmon, eel bisque…” her words trailed off then, but even Peanut had grown interested.

“Someone called my name, right?” the feline asked.  “I distinctly heard my name.  And something about feeding me all the fish.”

“We don’t have any fish,” Michael said.  “Just a…a weird menu.”

Rhianna sighed.  “It can’t just be a menu, right?”  She looked at the page, pointing at some of the other items she saw there.  “I don’t even know what some of these things are.  Nesselrode?  Emmenthaler?  Are these foods or cartoon characters?”

“Look at the names,” Zelda said then.  When her family brought their attention to her, the little red-haired dog looking up at them with adorable eyes.  “Look at the names,” she said again.  “Wasn’t that what the riddle said?”

“Study and watch the names,” Michael recalled.  “But I don’t see how that will…”  He paused then and turned the page slightly to the side.  The man blew out a sigh then and handed it to his wife.

“What is it?” she asked.  “Did you figure it out?”

“Look at the first letter of every item,” Michael said, unable to prevent a grin from stretching his lips.  “Think Shakespeare.”

“Shakespeare?” Rhianna asked.  “She pointed along the left margin of the page then, and followed it along, realizing soon after what was being spelled.  “A rose…by…any other name,” she said.  “Well I feel silly.”

“It got us both,” her husband insisted.  “But it didn’t get smarty pants Zelda apparently,” he said, gently tousling her hair, earning a few happy pants from the pup.  “But here’s something important: just because we know the idiom, I don’t know what to do with that information.”

Rhianna shrugged.  “Let’s just look around and find the flower, I guess.”

“I’m certain I haven’t seen any around here,” Michael replied.  “We’ve been all over this room, and I haven’t seen any flowers at all, roses or otherwise.”

“Maybe it’s a garnish?” Rhianna wondered.

“Perhaps,” Michael said.  “But usually you only see that with main courses.  What about salads, maybe they snuck a flower in with all that green?”

His wife turned to regard their pets.  “This is where you three can come in handy, you know.  Have any of you seen a pretty flower or anything in here?”

When neither of the dogs or the cat could offer up an idea, Michael turned back toward the table.

“Time to consult the tome!” he cried out.  When he arrived at the table and adjusted the book so that he could observe it a little more clearly, he could see that the riddle they had seen had not changed.  “I don’t get it, though,” Michael said.  “What is it talking about?”

Almost as though the page Rhianna held in her hands felt pity on the man, she felt a slight vibration between her fingers.  She noticed a faint glimmer within some of the writing, then.  Before long, a short line stretched beneath several of the words.

“By any other name,” she read aloud.  “Flower, right?”  Rhianna passed by the table, holding the page out almost as though it was a dowsing rod.  She reached the kitchen, and looked about, seeing the oven, the implements used to bake, and the containers on the bench upon the opposite wall.  “This is where you found the menu, right?” she asked.

While Michael looked up from the book, Peanut let out an uncharacteristic little growl.

“I was the one who found it,” she muttered, turning away from everyone.

“What are you getting at?” Michael wondered.

“Oh nothing,” Rhianna said, though a wide grin stretched across her face.  “It’s just that I’ve figured out the riddle with ease.”  She set to work on the cannisters upon the bench, pulling their lids off and inspecting the insides.  “I’ve worked on enough cookies this year to know what flower the book and the page are talking about.”

“…flour,” Michael said.  “Alright, that’s pretty clever.”

“Aha!” Rhianna said.  The last cannister she grabbed—the others filled with oats, sugar, and salt—had the right consistency of flour.  When she knew she had the proper container she shook it about and could hear a clunk within.  “I think we have a winner.”  As she spoke, little clouds of flour rose out of the cannister after it was aerated.

Rhianna tried to reach her hand into the container, but its neck was too narrow.  She considered, for a moment, asking one of the animals to lend their hand instead, but she knew that they wouldn’t have the reach needed to grab whatever item was hidden inside.  Dejected, she pursed her lips, and tapped her chin.

“What’s the matter?” Michael asked.

She shrugged.  “I just feel bad for whoever is going to have to clean this mess,” she said, looking to the floor.

“I mean, just remember that even though we’re sort of having fun with all this, we are kind of their prisoners right now,” her husband said.

Rhianna shrugged in the opposite direction then, nodding in agreement.  “Yeah, you’re right.  Well then… Sorry, floor!”

As soon as she finished speaking, the woman flipped the cannister, letting the flour pour to the ground.  More seemed to come out than she expected, and both she and her husband stepped back from the mountain that landed upon the floor.  They watched as a small iron object dropped into the white stuff that had hidden it just moments before.  Though more of the powder continued to fall from the container, Rhianna set it aside, placing it back upon the bench.

“So, what was our little prize?” Michael asked.

He and his wife both heard an excited gasp behind them then.

“Snow!” Zelda cried.

Before Michael or Rhianna could let her know that it was not, in fact, snow, she sprinted from her spot beneath the table and leapt into the air.

“No!” Rhianna protested.

But it was too late.  Zelda crashed into the mound of flour, sending plumes of powder flying in every direction.  The dog’s coat was covered, and it coated her face as well.

“This is some weird snow,” she said.

Her family could see her eyes begin to narrow and knew what was about to happen.  Zelda let fly a shaking sneeze as she fought against the tickling sensation in her nose.

“Oh, I hope they don’t try to bake anything with that,” Rhianna said.

“By the time anyone gets in here, we’ll be well past the five-second rule,” Michael insisted.

“Hey, I found something,” Zelda said.  She started digging in the flour, sending little puffs flying behind her.  A moment later, she buried her head in it, only to rise a moment later with the once-hidden object clutched in her teeth.  She tossed it into the air then, and Michael caught it on reflex alone.  “It’s getting in the way of all my snow.”

Rhianna chuckled and shook her head.  “Zelda, it’s not… You know what?  You do you, puppy.”  She turned her attention to her husband then, who observed the small iron object.  “So, what have we got?”

Michael smiled, and opened his hand, displaying the old key that they now had in their possession.  “I think we’ll be home before too long,” he said.

They both looked toward the library then, waiting to see if, perhaps, the bookcases would slide back out of the way to let them try their hand on the lock.

Rhianna tilted her head and glanced at her husband.  “Maybe the key doesn’t go to that lock?” she suggested.

Furrowing his eyebrows, Michael lifted the key, taking a better look at it.  It was certainly an antiquated item, with a dark brown color and a few rough spots.  Still, it looked plenty sturdy, with the strangely shaped teeth intact.  Michael moved his fingers, looking at the hilt of the key, which was flat and emblazoned with what looked like a tankard of ale.

“Let’s take a look at our drinking mugs,” Michael suggested.

“And there was a cool-looking horn on the mantel,” Rhianna said.

Together they returned to the familiar parts of the room and set to work investigating the objects they had mentioned.  Try as they did, though, they couldn’t find any keyhole to insert their newly found clue.

They heard a burp from across the room, and saw Maisie flump down on the table after having eaten her fill of the feast before her.  “This is very hard work,” she said.  The little pup had fallen upon the open tome then, and as she fought off a food coma, she watched as the writing beneath her changed shape and size.

“Hey,” she called out.  “Some new stuff is showing up in the book.  I can’t tell if it’s tickling me or if that’s just my stomach.”

“Well you ate enough for all of us,” Michael said, handing off the key to his wife before he reached the well-fed dog’s side.  “Now how am I to see what’s been written while you’re over here laying all the pudge all over the pages.”

She lifted her head to glare at him, but she gave up on the action just a moment later.  “Was gonna grumble,” she said.  “Too much work.”

Michael took a seat behind her, and scooped her off the tome, eliciting a mighty groan from the pup who was about to pop.  He set her down in his lap, not completely ignorant to the small bit of extra weight she’d acquired since their captive stay.

Before he could even pull the tome a little closer toward him, he could already hear her snoring as she went limp and drifted off to oblivion.  He smiled as he stroked her back, but he turned his attention to the book shortly after, lifting it up to see the new clues.

“Alright, you ready for this?” he asked Rhianna.  “I go through a door, but never come out; come look on the floor and you’ll find me about.”  He arched an eyebrow, looking to his wife across the way, who was busy brushing off Zelda’s fur—and to no avail, for the dog immediately jumped back into the white powder.

“It’s a strange one,” Rhianna said.

“So, whatever we’re looking for is on the floor,” Michael said.  “Doesn’t that seem to be something our lovely little fluffs could help us with.”  He gave Maisie a loving little nudge to try and rouse her.

The sleepy pup stretched and moved away from him then.  “Give me five more minutes.  I’m not ready for school.”

He fought against every instinct to laugh at the silly comment, but he couldn’t hold it back entirely.  As his body shook from his chuckling, Maisie began to slide out of his lap.  He caught her at the last moment, placing her down upon the ground with a gentle touch.

“Come on, none of you are gonna help?” Michael asked a moment later, seeing Peanut still giving him the cold shoulder.

“Wait a minute!” Rhianna said.  “Maybe one of them already is helping.”  The words were spoken just as Zelda took another flying leap into the air, only to crash back down upon the pile of fluffy flour.  She held her hands out, displaying the dog in all her glory as she dug her paws into the pile of flour.  “Zelda’s got the right idea,” Rhianna said.  “If we’re trying to find something on the floor, the flour will definitely help us see if anything is out of place, right?”

“That could work,” Michael said.  “But of all the things we have in here, a broom is not one of them.  I guess we’re going to be on our hands and knees sweeping flour everywhere.”

Rhianna had a mischievous grin upon her face before he even finished speaking.  “Before you come over here, grab one of those table settings.”

He knew better than to question her motives, as he could hear the confidence in her voice.  He grabbed one of the settings, just an old rag, really, and tossed it to his wife from the other side of the pile.

She bent low, ensuring Zelda could see her.  “Hey puppy, do you want to play tug of war?”  Rhianna let the piece of cloth hang from her hand then and watched as Zelda’s tail began wagging—slowly at first, and then quicker with excitement.  “I betcha can’t get it!” she teased.

Zelda was ready and willing to prove her wrong.  She leapt into the air as best she could with the unstable mound beneath her feet, but she caught hold of the rag, nonetheless.

Rhianna pulled on the lead at once, lightly dragging the dog across the floor.  Zelda whipped her head back and forth, the only fight she could give as she slid forward.  Rhianna turned about and Zelda remained playful and eager as ever, still a puppy at heart.  Before long, the entire floor in front of the oven was covered in a fine layer of flour.  But without anything seeming to jump out at them, Rhianna kept up her game.

With a splash of white, she and Zelda tore through the larger pile that remained in the entrance to the feasting area.  Zelda growled a little louder, but she didn’t relent, and her tail continued to wag.

Michael hopped out of the way as Rhianna used her makeshift mop to spread a mess instead of cleaning one up.  As she and Zelda continued to play, though, Michael looked and saw something peculiar on the ground.  It was a place that seemed untouched by the flour.  As he drew nearer to it, he understood the riddle a little better.

“A keyhole,” he said.  “That’s what goes in a door but doesn’t come out.”

Satisfied that their game had been a good idea, Rhianna released the place setting, conceding the game to the lively pup.  Though she no longer had an opponent, Zelda shook her head, whipping the cloth back and forth in victorious celebration.

Michael fell to a knee, and framed the keyhole with his hand, but he swept away the surrounding flour in the hopes that no more would fall into it.  It wouldn’t do to have the keyhole jammed, he thought.  When Rhianna reached him there, she too drew close to the floor, inserting the iron key, which entered the aperture without resistance.  As she turned the implement, she felt a pop beneath her, and she watched as the floor rose, revealing a hatch that had been hidden into the tightly packed floorboards.

“That’s a little unsettling,” Michael said.  “Are we off to the dungeon next?”

Rhianna climbed to her feet and moved about to the front of the hatch, noticing the wooden steps that descended into the darkness down below.

“Can you go down first?” she asked Michael.

He arrived beside his wife then, looking into the abyss with her.  Together they noticed as a frightening fog seemed to lift from the hidden compartment.

“Maybe we’ll go down together?” Michael wondered aloud.  “No?”  He bowed his head in defeat before Rhianna offered up any sort of verbal protest.  “Alright.  You three, stay right where you are, okay?  This could be dangerous.”

Maisie had fallen asleep once more, snoozing upon the floor beneath the table.  Peanut continued ignoring Michael and Rhianna, taking time to lick her paws and swipe them across her head.  Zelda still played with her new rag, chewing on it between vigorous shakes of her head.

Michael sighed and began the slow descent into the unknown, with Rhianna daring to follow behind him, her hand gripping his shoulder.

As they went, they couldn’t ignore the frigid cold that they seemed to freeze their skin.  Michael breathed out a deep breath, and even in the darkness, he saw wisps of steam leave his lips.

At the bottom of the steps, he stumbled forward, expecting to keep drawing further beneath the feasting hall.  Rhianna’s fingers dug into his skin, keeping him upright and close to her.

“Thanks,” he said.

“I was going that for me,” she admitted.  “I don’t want to be all alone down here in the dark.”

As Michael took another step forward, two torches burst into flame upon the walls framing the bottom of the steps.  Rhianna cried out in shock, and hopped forward, burying her face against Michael’s back.

Her husband couldn’t keep himself from giggling then.

“I don’t think we have anything to worry about,” he offered up then.  “Look: it’s just a cooling room for ale and eggnog and water.  Or maybe that’s vodka.”

Rhianna ventured a glance over Michael’s shoulder, and saw that against the back wall of the cellar, a few crates were stacked, with long glass pitchers there atop them.

“Is that everything?” she asked.  “There’s no way out or anything?”

“I could move those boxes,” Michael replied.  “But no, I don’t think we’re going to be able to find a way out from down here.  My guess is that the next clue is in one of those big pitchers, or the crates beneath them.”

Shrugging, Rhianna stepped forth.  “It would have to be in the eggnog pitcher, right?  We would see something in the ale or the water.”

“I mean, that’s a solid guess,” her husband said.  “But there’s no guarantee it isn’t in the crates instead.  And I’m not planning on sticking my hand in all that eggnog—though I’m not completely opposed to the idea of drinking it.”

“That’s a lot of eggnog,” Rhianna said.

“That’s a lot of eggnog,” Michael agreed.  He hummed to himself, and then looked to Rhianna then.  “Hold on.  What if we just do what you did with the flour container?  If there’s something in the pitcher, and we shake it, we should hear something thumping against the side, right?”

“Well…” Rhianna said, not quite so sure about that thought.  “It’s pretty thick stuff.  We might not be able to see if anything was there at all.  But it’s worth a try.”

“What else have we got going on?” Michael asked.  He stepped forward and grabbed the tall container, lifting it and grabbing its neck in both hands.  The man swirled it around, and brought it higher, turning it about so the torchlight illuminated it for his wife to see.  “Anything?” he asked.

“I don’t see an object inside,” she replied.  Rhianna leaned down and looked up from the bottom, but she shook her head a second later.  “There’s nothing there.”

Michael lowered the oversized pitcher and walked it back to the crate, but he took a sip of the eggnog before he set it down.

“Hoo… That’s some powerful stuff.”  He smacked his lips and shook his head then.  “I did not expect that to be an alcoholic eggnog.  That’s not going to make looking for clues any easier.”

“Or maybe it is,” Rhianna suggested.  “Maybe we just need to be in the right state of mind.”

He nodded.  “If it’s true for the year, it might be true for escaping this place.”  He couldn’t tell if his wife was joking, and when he looked at her, he could tell she was waiting to see a reaction from him as well.  “I mean, it is that kind of year,” he said.  Still he turned away, back toward the stairs.  “Look, we know there’s a clue down here, otherwise we wouldn’t have been told to look for the key.  Let’s go get the animals to see if they can help us and…”

Michael’s words trailed off when his wife spotted something along the wall.  He followed her gaze then, noticing that a stack of smaller boxes sat along that part of the room.  But it was the object upon one of them that stood out—not least of all because of the small flag that rose out of it that had their surname upon it.  A small round cake that had been lightly dusted with powdered sugar sat beneath the flag.

With it in her hands a moment later, Rhianna removed the flag, and handed it to Michael to keep in one of the pockets of his pajamas.  “One more yummy treat,” she said.

She split the cake in half and handed a hunk of it to her husband.  As she separated it though, she noticed that it had a green coloring inside, and she froze as she considered it.  Michael caught onto it a moment later, and grabbed his wife in a loving embrace, kissing her on the forehead.

Though Rhianna contended with her memories, and how they left her feeling, she emerged from her introspection with a smile upon her face when she looked back at the green cake in her hand.  She placed her head upon Michael’s shoulder, and took a bite of the cake, noting and enjoying the familiar taste.

Michael moved to take a bite out of his side of the cake as well, but as he brought it toward his lips, he noticed that the flag was not the only thing that was found inside of it.  A scrap of paper, folded over several times, hung out of the green, spongy texture.  Michael pulled out the parchment as he took a bite of the cake, and he worked at unfolding it with a single hand.

Before long, the message, written on the same material as the other clue that Peanut had found, flashed before his and Rhianna’s eyes.

“Instead of looking for what you can see,” Michael said, “find what you can’t, invisibility.”

Rhianna turned the parchment toward her as well then and read the next lines.  “Hiding in plain sight, unable to see it about, you must turn over its home, and pour it all out.”

“So, we were on the right track with the pitchers, I think,” Michael said.  “It was just that the eggnog one wasn’t what we were looking for unless we wanted to straight up pass out under the table up there.”

Each of them placed their pieces of the cake back upon the plate behind them, and they returned to the other two pitchers, with Michael grabbing the one filled with ale while his wife grabbed the colorless liquid.  They both swirled around the contents of their container, and in time, they heard a sound within one of the pitchers.

“It’s mine,” Rhianna said.  “But I can’t see anything inside.”

“Well, the clue did mention that we wouldn’t be able to,” Michael replied.  “And it also said we’d have to pour it out.”

Rhianna nodded.  “I still can’t help but feel bad about the mess we’re about to make.”

“There was a basin upstairs in the kitchen,” Michael said.  “That should help us keep the mess down to a minimum.  And even if it doesn’t, again, we’ve kind of been kidnapped here.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” his wife said.  She handed the pitcher to Michael after he placed the one which contained ale back upon the stack of crates.  Rhianna picked up the cake plate then before heading back up the stairs.

After Michael followed her up the stairs, he felt eyes upon his back, and he turned about to look behind him.  All three of the animals were there to the side of the hatch, looking upon him and Rhianna.

“Everything alright?” he asked.

“You were gone forever,” Maisie said.  “You can’t just go and leave us!”

“I told you we were going down there,” Michael protested.  “You were mad at us, you were having a full-belly nap, and you were busy playing with your new toy.”

While her husband had a full conversation with their pets, Rhianna placed the cake on the bench beside them, and grabbed hold of the water pitcher while Michael wasn’t paying attention.  She moved to the basin then, and slowly emptied the container.

As the water poured out, the inside of the pitcher flowed back and forth, and every few moments, Rhianna thought she saw the torchlight flicker a little differently upon the item inside.  Once it was empty of liquid, she tilted it toward her open hand, and caught the object that had been hidden inside.  She found herself looking at a small glass orb, sturdy enough that it could survive rolling about inside the container.

“Hey look,” Rhianna said, turning around to catch Michael’s attention.  “I found a ball.”

Before she even finished saying the final word, she understood what mistake she had made.

Zelda’s eyes went wide, and she stood on her hind legs in excitement.  “Ball?” she cried and hurried toward Rhianna.

“No puppy, I can’t give you this one,” the woman said, a little dejected that she would be disappointing the playful pup.  “We need to use this for whatever puzzle comes next.”

“But… do you want a little bit of cake?” Michael asked.

“We can’t give them that either,” Rhianna said.  “It has pistachios in it.”

“It might,” Michael said, but they’re crushed so fine that they wouldn’t cause any belly problems for the animals.”

“Just a little bite for them then,” his wife said.  “Because I plan on eating the rest of it.”

She did as she said she would, splitting up small pieces of the green cake for the animals who knew she had something they didn’t.  Rhianna tousled their fur after she gave them their portions, as sure a sign as any that they weren’t about to get any more.  She sat there on the bench for a while, savoring the taste of the dessert—whoever had baked the confection was keen on the familiar recipe, and she supposed she knew who would have been aware enough to have watched in been made.  She held the plate out for her husband then, who took another small chunk of the cake for himself, though he did sneak two more small pieces for Maisie and Zelda, and another even smaller one for Peanut, who demonstrated that she’d already had her fill by sniffing at the crumbs for a few moments before moving on.

Rhianna found herself looking from one part of the room to the next, wondering what the point of the glass sphere was.  As she looked past the kitchen, to the feasting area, she felt a chill upon her neck, leaving her to think about the flickering flames in the hearth.  Her eyes went wide with anticipation, and she placed the dish on Michael’s lap, slapping his knee for good measure as she rose.

“I know where this is supposed to go,” she said, rolling the ball about in her palm, though she cupped it somewhat to keep it protected.  “Is everyone ready to solve the next puzzle?”

Michael groaned as he stood, stretching sore muscles and a bulging belly.  “I think we’re all so full of food and drink that it’s difficult to answer such a question.”

“Well too bad,” Rhianna said, proudly striding toward the fireplace.  “I’m ready to show that we’re not going to be stuck here much longer.  And as much as I like the nice little experience that…whoever is forcing us through, I’m ready to just relax, and if that means pushing a little bit further while we’re here, I’m okay with that.  So come on, the rest of you.  Let’s get moving so we can get find our way to Santa and help like we do every year.”

Zelda perked up at the name of the jolly fellow they saw every Christmas.  “You think we’ll really see him?” she asked.  “And Svetlana and the elves?”

“It’s been four year—this will be our fifth,” Rhianna said.  “We haven’t missed him yet, and I don’t think he would want to skip out on us this year.”  She continued along, but she could hear the rest of her family tagging along as well.

“She’s right you know,” Michael encouraged.  “We need to finish these puzzles not just for us, but for Santa, just in case he needs us.”

Maisie’s tail was wagging then as well.  “He made my first Christmas a really happy one,” she mused.  “I’ll always make sure I do well for him.”

Even Peanut followed in step then, although she did it accompanied with a roll of her eyes.  “If for nothing else, he’s let me voice my concerns once a year.  I just wish we’d had a little less of a hectic ride this year—I had planned on teaching you how to speak cat.  Why should I do all the heavy lifting all in this single day?”

They followed Rhianna to the hearth then, surrounding her, and watching on with curious gazes.  She dropped the glass orb into the bowl that sat at the center of the mantel, and sure enough, it fit into place with a subtle thunk.

All at once, the flames in the hearth blew out, leaving the feasting hall immediately darkened.  The lantern light behind them didn’t offer much in the way of illumination, but they could still see the shadowy outline of the hearth.

And they saw as it shook before they felt the trembling beneath their feet.

A new light shone as the chimney split in two, separating and pulling bricks one way or another.  Even the bowl slid away from half of the mantel, and the family could see that it had sat fixed upon the mantel as part of the puzzle.

Before them, yet another staircase rose into a new room, that one glowing with a subtle blue light.

“Let’s be careful going up there,” Rhianna said.  “We don’t know what strangeness awaits us next.”

Inspired by her words and her eagerness, however, the animals rushed forth, bounding up the steps, with Maisie leading the way, and Peanut trailing behind, more curious than anything.

“Do you feel brave enough to venture up this one first?” Michael asked his wife.  “Or do you need me to lead the way?”

“My babies are up there, and if anything were to happen to them, I would never forgive myself,” Rhianna replied.  “You can meet us up there when you catch up,” she said.

Michael wasn’t about to let the rest of his family go without him, and he hurried up behind his wife.  They climbed the steps, seeing a twilight blue wash over the higher steps.  The staircase turned abruptly to the side, rising toward whatever new clue-filled room awaited them.

Much to their surprise, the DeAngelo family saw windows on their right side when they arrived there at the top of the steps.  The room was dark still, with the only light coming from the nearly full moon that peeked out from behind the clouds.  There were tables set up at all four corners of the main room, with what looked like a small study on the opposite side as the stairs, a few sparsely filled bookshelves on either side of the opened area.

The clouds slid aside, allowing the moon to shine into the pair of windows without obstruction.  With new illumination, subtle though it was, the recent arrivals were able to see the strange objects upon the tables there.  Open books that appeared much older than the one which provided them their hints and riddles sat upon the workstations.  One of the tables had a slew of herbs and plants that lay upon the workspace or hung from strings set up above or against the wall.  A mortar and pestle lay to the side, next to a scrap of paper that had been folded many times and bore the stains of many powders that had been muddled against it over what looked like years.  An old candle was melted down to its final inch or so.

To its left, the second workstation that was brightened by the moon caught the white light a bit differently.  Scattered atop the old wooden desk was an array of glassware.  Bulbous flasks and decanters held tremendous amounts of colored liquid, and a tiered set-up upon the corner was filled with a translucent fluid that allowed the visitors to see the various flora that were floating inside.  Little wisps of steam emerged from the top of the central device and were it not for the moonlight seeping in from the cold outside, the DeAngelo family might not have noticed them.  Tiny plants in equally tiny pots were situated about the desk as well, leaving it looking oft used and appreciated by whoever called it their own.

Across the room, the other two tables were a little more difficult to see, though every few moments, a stray flash of light seemed to emerge from the far corner.  With enough attention drawn to that part of the room, one of the DeAngelo family members was bound to identify the cause of the intermittent illumination, but none expected Maisie to be the one to spot it.

“Is that a firefly?” she asked.  “Oh, I remember warm times.”  As she spoke the words, she shivered at the thought of the bitter cold that they had emerged from.

“They’re not quite fireflies I don’t think,” Michael said.  “It looks like they might be lumibugs,” he said, speaking of their multicolored Tellestian equivalent.

The table closest to the family was also the one that went with the least amount of light.  But, due to its proximity, the members of the family could see the outline of the table a little better.  It had strange devices on and around it, which no one could clearly identify.  It looked as though some kind of mad inventor made that workstation their home, as it looked as though it was put together by someone with no grasp on their sanity.

“Well, look at it this way,” Rhianna said.  “This is the smallest room we’ve run into, so we might not need to spend as much time here.”

“Maybe,” Michael replied.  “But it’s also by far the most confusing-looking room we’ve run across.  And I’ve got to say, I didn’t exactly do so well in chemistry back in high school—you know, almost before this latest millennium.”

“That’s alright,” Rhianna said.  “We have our little book of clues to help us with any trouble we may periodically find ourselves in.”

Michael lowered his head and smacked the heel of his hand against his brow.  “Look, we’re all getting tired here, and if this year has done anything to us, it’s already made us a little stir crazy,” he said.  “So why don’t we all look around and see if there’s anything we can figure out.

“One question,” Peanut said, alternating glances between the rest of her family, and the center of the room.  “What is that?”

Michael and Rhianna both took another step forward, spotting an object that seemed to rest in the center of the room, but which was miniscule in size.  With the moon landing upon it, they had missed it, for it looked like a brightly lit pyramid which sat within a flowerpot that was only about the size of Michael’s thumb.

Zelda, typically a little apprehensive of things she didn’t understand, took a courageous step forward, hunching down low on her approach.

“Whoa,” Rhianna said.  “What’s with the brave new Zelda?”

“It’s getting late, and I’m sleepy,” the pup admitted.  “This is too much excitement for me for one day.  I’m gonna find out what this thing is!”  When Zelda arrived there before the strange object, she tilted her head, looking under the pyramid as best she could.  She sniffed at the air there as well, trying to get a sense of what the item was.  “I think it’s just a jar of dirt,” she speculated.

Rhianna felt brave in the dog’s presence then, and she approached the miniscule flowerpot as well then.  She bent low to grab it, but even though she thought she had a firm grip upon it, she found that she couldn’t pull it from the ground.

“What is this?” she asked.  “The world’s heaviest twig?”  She turned to her husband then, who stood watching from the top of the staircase still.  “Do you want to get over here and use your muscles?”

“Nah, you’ve got this,” Michael teased.  “Honestly though, I don’t think it’s worth the effort.  We’ve seen that when something’s not supposed to move here, it won’t.”

“Well someone is going to trip on this, and it’s probably going to be me,” Rhianna said.  “Alright, well where are we supposed to start?” she asked.

“There more of us than there are tables,” Michael said.  “Maybe we can each take one, and one of us can double up and help someone else?”

All three of the animals were already on their way to the table with the herbs upon it.  Maisie hopped upon the chair in front of the desk and leaned closer and closer to a string of plants, parting her lips as she neared it.

“Maisie, you’re not supposed to eat anything in here,” Rhianna warned.  “That was the whole point of the last room, I’m sure.  We feed you until you can’t eat anymore.”

“You don’t know what she’s capable of,” Zelda said then.

While the two dogs sent each other challenging glares, Peanut jumped up on the chair and bounced higher up, onto the desk.  The cat almost knocked the mortar and pestle off table for her effort.  But she ignored that near mistake, standing on her hind legs to sniff at the highest strand of herbs which were hung to dry.  That mix of green and purple seemed to call to the feline.

“What are you doing, Peanut?” Michael asked.

The cat abruptly turned to regard him, her eyes going wide as if in embarrassment.  Peanut didn’t waste any time leaping away from the desk to land on the floor.  She took off running, toward the darker side of the room.

“Ok, Peanut, you take one of those tables I guess,” Michael said.  “The doggies have this one over here—Zelda watch Maisie and make sure she won’t eat anything she shouldn’t.  And then Rhianna, is there one you’re looking at with a little more excitement?”

His wife pointed toward the desk in the better-lit back corner.  “That one looks like it’s got all kinds of little succulents and potions.  If I was working here, that would be my desk for sure.”

“Well then I guess I’ll have Peanut as my cubby mate,” Michael said.  As he stepped forward, he saw that Peanut sat underneath the farthest, table, where the lumibugs seemed to dance around in a rather large flask.  “And it seems it’s my role to play the mad scientist.  Better get to work.”

The other members of his family set to their tasks, looking at the odd objects in front of them—except for Peanut, who watched with curiosity as the bugs in the flask before her bounced from one side of it to the other, their thoraxes flashing intermittently.  Michael grinned before opening the book as he planned on placing it down on the desk he designated as his own.  The pages glowed a bright gold, though no words of wisdom were written on them.

He hummed to himself, confused by the lack of direction.  Still, he used the extra light offered by the tome, and set it into place on the desk between some of the odd devices that were in place there.  Michael also had enough light, then, to see the strange loop that sat on the floor—a perfect circle that had a wire running from one of its ends, which escaped beneath the carpet.  Confused as he was, he simply shook his head, turning his attention back to the tome to see if he could get an idea of where to start with things.

“Alright,” Rhianna said.  “Whenever you’re ready, tell us what we have to do first.”

Michael stared a while longer but was certain that nothing was changing within the book.  “I think we might be on our own for this room,” he said.  The book isn’t giving me anything.”

“I’ve got an idea,” Maisie said.  “Let’s go back downstairs and—”

“No,” Rhianna said.  “No more food.”

“That’s not what I was going to say!” the little pup argued.  “I was going to say we could get my friend from the mirror and introduce him to my new friend in that glass over there.”

Rhianna leaned back, noticing that the decanter on her desk was spotless, a bulbous reflection of Maisie easily seen in its face.  The woman chortled and shook her head, unable to ignore the cute, silly antics of the little pup.

“I feel like this needs some kind of power,” Rhianna suggested.  “Doesn’t this thing look like it’s meant to heat up?  But there’s no place to turn anything on as far as I can tell.”

As another group of clouds moved out of the way of the moon, a brighter ray of light shone into the window beside her.  She could see the brass tubing that made its way up into the ceiling, almost making the device before her seem like a strange oven.

“It’s like a chimney…” she muttered.

“At least you have some idea of what you’re looking at,” Michael said then.  “Like, what are these things?  Whoever was working on these is either bad at what they do, or they like working in the abstract, and I’m just looking at some very strange art projects.”

Rhianna turned to her husband and narrowed her eyes, trying to see the objects around him.  But the only item illuminated was the strange ring that was on the floor.

“I mean, they’re not all strange and confusing,” she said.  “What about that treadmill on the floor?”

Michael tilted his head in confusion.  “Treadmill?”

“Yeah,” Rhianna said, pointing toward the ring.  “That thing is basically just like a hamster wheel that fell on its side, isn’t it?”

Her husband took a step to his side, observing the ring a little more closely.  “How could you tell that by looking at it once, and from all the way over there?” he asked.

She shrugged, flashing a knowing grin.  “Maybe I’m just working in the abstract.”

While Rhianna worked at trying to understand the items on her desk a little better, Michael plucked the ring off the ground, and set it upright.  Sure enough, the device was a set of two rings that worked conceptually just like a treadmill would.  The outer ring remained stationary, and kept the device secure and in place, while the inner ring rotated.  Michael ran his hand around it a few times, noticing the quiet whirr it made as the treadmill spun.

“Hey, what just happened?” Rhianna asked.

Michael stopped, and looked across the room to his wife’s desk.  “Is everything alright?”

“Whatever I did, this thing was working for a moment.  I saw some bubbles forming in the water here, and a little puff of steam came out of this little vent here.”

“I thought you said you needed power?” Michael asked.

“I must have turned something on only to turn it off a moment or two later,” Rhianna suggested.  “I’ll just try and do whatever I was doing again.”

Michael nodded, and set to work on his own item once more.  He spun the wheel around once again, the little buzzing sound it made drawing forth curiosity from the dogs, who left their station.

“What do you two think?” he asked Zelda and Maisie?  Do either of you want to go for a spin?”

Zelda hunched down low, trying to appear as pitiful as possible in an effort not to be placed in the unfamiliar situation.  Maisie, on the other hand, simply walked away, not willing to be used in Michael’s odd experiments.

“Come on,” he teased while he spun the inner ring a few more times.  “We all have a lot of food to work off after that last room.”

“There are no calories at Christmas,” Rhianna reminded him, though she kept her focus on the cannisters before her.  She gasped as she saw more bubbles then, and another puff of steam.  “Wait!  There it is again!”  Just as before though, she noticed as it stopped when she looked upon it.  “What is going on?”

She looked toward her husband, exasperated.

Michael, though, arched an eyebrow.  “You’re not the only one who notices things!”  He began spinning the inner ring again, as steadily as he could, and sure enough, even from where he stood, he could hear the buzz coming from the cannisters on her side of the room.  “This treadmill must power your machine,” Michael said.  “There’s a wire that goes under the floor, but I didn’t think it would have gone all the way over to there.”

“Well keep it up,” Rhianna said.  “I think we’re on the right track here.”  For the first time, she could see that the water-filled cannisters bubbled with heat, and she watched the herbs that sat inside them dance back and forth.

“This is kind of tiring,” her husband said as he kept spinning the treadmill.  “I don’t know how much longer I can keep doing it.”

Rhianna looked at the device a little more thoroughly, for as the heat ran through it, she watched as the very water inside turned brighter.  More puffs of steam flew out from the vent in the front of the machine, but she wondered instead if the remnants of the liquid needed to push up through the longer chimney stack that rose into the ceiling.

She noticed, then, in the light, that there were some things on her side of the room that she hadn’t quite made sense of either.  The device sat upon a spinning dais, and when she turned the machinery about, she realized that it had been facing the wall for some reason before.  Rhianna was certain, then, that it was facing the correct direction then, for two large round handles sat near the face of it, on either side of a gauge that had a red needle but no clear numeration.  Still, she figured that the needle had to move toward the right side of the gauge, and whatever Michael was doing wasn’t accomplishing enough, the needle only flicking back and forth for a split second.

“Something’s not right,” she said.  “I think we have to vent the heat from the cannisters into the main flue.  But these handles here might be too difficult for me to turn.”

Michael stopped what he was doing then and approached her table.  Zelda and Maisie had given up on their desk, finding herbs mostly boring when they couldn’t be eaten.

“Okay, what am I looking at?” Michael asked.

“Do you think you can open these up?” Rhianna wondered.  “I feel like it’ll be just like a jar of pickles.  You’ll have an easier time with it.”

Michael shrugged, understanding the logic in it.  As he worked on opening the handle on the right side, his wife continued to look about the desk, the glowing cannisters lending enough light to see far enough beyond the wooden surface.  She hummed to herself as she walked behind Michael studying one end of the table and then the other.

“There’s some weird material here, too,” she insisted.  “It almost looks like fireplace bellows, just without the handles.  And they’re built right into the floor.”

Michael ceased turning the handle, and looked beside the desk, spotting what she had.  But once he let go of the wheel, it began rotating backward the way it had been set.  Michael reached for it, but it was already moving too fast, and he couldn’t fight against the inertia.

“Crud,” Michael said.  “We’re not going to be able to do what you want to do and move the treadmill at the same time.  These wheels are going to need both of us to do our part.”

Rhianna nodded.  “I think all of us are going to need to work together here in order to make this machine do what it’s supposed to.  You and I are going to have work on the wheels, but the animals can push down on these things.  Watch.”

The woman stepped on the upright, extended bellows on the right side of the desk then, flattening it.  Sure enough, on the opposite side, the other set of bellows extended then.  Still, it wasn’t clear what was happening, as Michael couldn’t see anything change on the gauge in front of him.

“Alright, my dad was a boiler operator,” Michael said.  “I can figure this out.  So, it needs power from the treadmill over there.  But power is just heating things up, and we need to stoke the heat by using the bellows.  But even if we do that, the heat doesn’t go anywhere unless we open access from the cannisters into the central unit.  That’s why you and I need to work on the wheel handles.”

“I might need you to help start the wheel off for me,” Rhianna said.  “That first twist is going to be a problem for me I think.”

“I can help you with that,” Michael assured.  “But we still need to figure out how we’re going to work the bellows and the treadmill at the same time.”

“Doggies,” his wife beckoned.  “We’re going to need you both to listen very carefully.  This is going to be a fun game for you.  Maisie, you’re going to go on this side, and you’re going to step up and push down on this.”  Rhianna demonstrated what it would look like, and the little dog’s eyes went wide with anticipation.

“And Zelda,” she went on, “you’re going to be working on this side of the table.  See how it’s up on this side now?”  The pup didn’t quite understand the idea of one side having anything to do with the other side, but she, too, grew excited when she saw Rhianna push the bellows down into the floor.  “Can you do that?” Rhianna asked.

Zelda nodded enthusiastically.

Over on the other side of the desk, the bellows had already extended again, and Maisie looked from them to Michael and back again.

“Go ahead,” the man said.  “You’re allowed to jump on them.”

The little black and white dog didn’t waste any time once she had permission, and she pushed down on the extended accordion shape, pushing it down to the floor.

Zelda gasped when she saw the one on her side stretching up once more.

“Once it expands all the way, you can push your side down again,” Rhianna said.

When the two dogs found their rhythm, playing with the bellows like a game, Michael looked to Rhianna and bobbed his head in appreciation.  “I have to say, I wasn’t expecting that to go so well.  But we still have a problem.  How do we get the treadmill going from all the way over here?”

Rhianna grinned, and looked at the finicky feline, who still sat beneath the desk across from them, faintly illuminated every time the lumibugs’ thoraxes flickered.

“To keep the treadmill going, we need someone who is persistent.  We need someone who is balanced, and poised, and—”

“Not interested,” Peanut said then.  She licked her paw and dragged it across her brow then, ignorant of the last part of the puzzle that the DeAngelo family was faced with.

“What?” Rhianna asked, surprised at the idea that Peanut wouldn’t want to help after everything they had gone through that night.  “Why not?”

“Because now I have all the power,” she said.  “You have to listen to me now, and I have a few demands that we’ll need to agree on.”

“Peanut,” Rhianna protested.

“First, every morning, I shall have one barrel of fish delivered to the room of my choosing.”

“Where are we going to find a barrel in 2021?” Rhianna asked as she looked toward her husband.

“Second, it shall be written officially in the DeAngelo family bylaws that whenever Maisie lays under a blanket, I may step on her at my leisure.”

“Pretty sure you do that anyway,” Michael said.

“Yes, but it will now be official!” Peanut said.  She cleared her throat, and sat up straight, looking a bit more regal as she made her declarations.  “Finally, the window shall be mine again, henceforth called Peanut’s domain, banned and stricken of the foul presence and fouler odor of those two.”  She sneered a bit upon the completion of her demands.

“Hey!” Maisie said, pausing her game with Zelda as the words reached her.

“That wasn’t very nice,” Zelda said, bowing her head, a little hurt by the words.

Peanut looked at everyone and hunched down a little lower to the ground, realizing that perhaps she had gone a little too far.

“Look,” Michael said.  “We can’t keep the pups out of the window.  That’s the only way we’re seeing the world this year.  But maybe what we can do is give you a nice, big bag of…”  His words trailed off, as he recalled Peanut’s reaction when they’d first entered the room and began exploring around a bit.  “I think catnip would work wonders in this case,” Michael proceeded to say.  “Or in this case, catmint.”

Rhianna leaned over to Michael and spoke out of the corner of her mouth.  “But we already got Peanut catnip as one of her Christmas presents,” she quietly explained.

“But she doesn’t know that,” Michael replied out of the opposite corner of his mouth.

He approached the table that Maisie and Zelda had first been looking at, ignoring many of the herbs there, as well as the mortar and pestle.  He was mostly concerned with the blue and purple plant that hung on a taut string above the table.  There were a few other herbs that were set up that way, but he was less concerned with those ones.  The string was long, with an excess amount hanging far beyond where the knots were tied, and Michael was certain that he’d have enough slack to enact his plan.

“What are you up to?” Rhianna asked her husband.

“Giving Peanut some incentive to help.  Come over here and grab one of the ends of this string.”

Rhianna was happy to help, and she did as she was instructed.  The couple then walked the string of hanging plants to the opposite side of the room.

“Alright,” Michael said.  “Now if we tie your side of the string to the front leg of that desk, and we put it through here…”  Michael continued his thought process then, ensuring that the string of herbs passed through the rings of the treadmill.  He tied the other end of the string to the back leg of the desk where the strange devices had been found, and once the catmint hung in the air, he adjusted the treadmill so that the hanging herbs were nearly touching the back of it.

“Now we’re just missing one piece of the puzzle,” Michael said, looking at Peanut, who had watched with curiosity as the two humans set up their incentivized machine.

“Come here, kitty,” Rhianna said, scooping the cat into her arms.

“What?” Peanut said, trying to leap away to no avail.  “What is this?  Unhand me!”

Rhianna was already setting her down again, though that time it was closer to the treadmill.  Peanut sprang off the woman’s chest before she could be lowered to the floor, and she came to a stop just to the side of the two rings.

The cat harrumphed to herself and looked at the two humans alternately.  “There will be no further negotiating until…until…”  She paused, and then turned about, sniffing at the plants that Michael and Rhianna had strung up.  “Until after I figure out what this delectable smell is.”

Michael quietly stepped around to the other side of the treadmill ring, and gently urged Peanut into the treadmill.  The cat was so entranced by the smell that she wasn’t even aware that she had been shepherded into place.  Before long, she put one paw in front of the other, trying to draw closer to the enchanting scent just inches away from her.  Likewise, she wasn’t cognizant of the wheel drawing her back.  She had found the perfect placement to keep up with the pleasant aroma, and she couldn’t be bothered to pay attention to anyone else.

Rhianna waved Michael over as she tiptoed back to the other table.  Her husband moved in step with her, and together, they rejoined the two dogs over on that side, who had shirked their duties in their people’s absence.

“Look,” Rhianna said, pointing toward the puffs of steam that emerged from the vent at the top of the device—though it was placed along the back side after she had rotated it.  “It’s working.  The power is on and it’s heating up the insides.”

“Alright you two,” Michael said when he arrived there, looking at the two dogs.  “Get right back into it okay?  Zelda, push down on your side, and Maisie, when it comes all the way to the top, that’s your cue to push down on the bellows.”

“Got it,” Maisie said, hunching down, and poised to jump up on the accordion-like expanded item.

“And the rest is up to us,” Michael said, grabbing his wheel handle.  “Let’s do it.”

Rhianna struggled to get her side started, but as Michael turned his, hers became easier to manipulate.  Whether it was due to inspiration or had something to do with the way the machine reacted to whatever he had opened within, she managed to turn it all the way.

They could hear the flow of water and watched as the liquid in the capsules began to lower.  The gauge rotated until it nearly passed the other side of the dial meter, and Michael worried that he was going to have to let the animals know that would need to work a little less hard.

But all at once, the DeAngelo family realized what their hard work and critical thinking had achieved.  A small grate was situated in the ceiling, so nondescript that none of them had noticed it without the light shining directly upon it.  But when the glowing water poured down from it, they knew at once it was there.

The water that they had forced up through the pipe cast down, all of it seeming to land upon the pyramid that shielded the flowerpot.

“Keep at it,” Michael said.  “I don’t know what it’s doing, but something is happening.”

Sure enough, the pyramid seemed to pulse, and—Rhianna was nearly certain—it started to grow.  She blinked her eyes, trying to make sense of it, but as exhausted as she was, she felt she couldn’t trust what she was seeing.

Zelda helped her to clear her mind though.  “You could use whatever this stuff is on our houseplants at home,” the dog suggested.  “Look, it’s even making the little pot grow bigger.”

Sure enough, what Zelda claimed to see what right.  Both the pyramid and the pot were growing as more of the glowing, iridescent liquid rained down from above.

As the pyramid soaked up more of that water, it changed to a darker color, and the pulsing grew more pronounced.  A few moments at a time then, the family could see that it was not some meager plant that was growing, but a bushy evergreen tree.  It was already nearly the size of the one that had been placed within the library downstairs.  And as the enchanted water fell from the grate above, it continued to expand.

The gauge whistled for a moment, and Michael turned to regard the machine.  He could see that all the water had drained out of the capsules, and he let his wheel shut, prompting Rhianna to let go of hers as well.  They both stopped the pups on their closer side of the desk, for it wouldn’t do to have the bellows pumping if there was no water left to move.

Still, as they all stopped, and moved away from the growing tree, they knew that the water still traveled through the pipes up above.  Though the sound of the tree’s expansion was audible and gripping, they could also hear the flow of liquid up above.

Michael hurried around the tree to the other side of the room, tearing the string of catmint away from the two desks, and plucking Peanut off the treadmill.  As inebriated by the herbs as she was, the cat didn’t realize her experience had been halted, even as Michael squeezed her against his chest.

“I don’t want you to get squished,” he insisted.

“But like…aren’t we all a little squished?” she queried.

Under normal circumstances, Michael would have chuckled at the strange statement, but even stranger things were happening.  As the crown of the tree tapped against the ceiling, Rhianna gasped.  She ushered the dogs back to the entrance to the room, with the trio of them stopping just before they reached the stairs.  Michael dared to stand a little bit closer, but he took a step back here and there as the tree kept expanding.

“Look at all the stars,” Peanut said, and for a moment, Michael thought that the tree had shorn right through the ceiling.  She wasn’t looking at a twilight canopy, but the large bottle of lumibugs that flew about on the far table.

Finally, it seemed, the water from the device stopped flowing, and the tree, in turn, stopped growing.  The family breathed a sigh of relief, but they realized that they weren’t certain what had been accomplished.  There was still no way out, and as huge as the tree was, it didn’t seem to alter much except the amount of room that was in the latest area.

“What are we doing now?” Rhianna asked.  “That can’t be it, right?  Is there anything on the tree that you can see?”

Michael shook his head, but he found that he, too, was drawn to the sight of the jarred lumibugs.  Rhianna tiptoed around the tree to find her way to his side, and she followed his gaze there, where she noticed that all the lumibugs seemed to be congregating toward the top of the large bottle that they were held within.

“Maybe they know something we don’t,” Michael suggested.  He set Peanut on the ground, letting her drop to her side and enjoy the feel of the carpet beneath her.  “Let’s let them out and find out where they go.”

Rhianna hesitated for a moment.  “Under normal circumstances, I would say ‘absolutely not’ to something like that.  But lumibugs are kind of cute, so I’ll make an exception.”

“Alright, let’s go liberate some multicolored lightning bugs,” Michael said.  When he reached about halfway around the tree, he looked back to see that his wife was still near the stairs.  “What are you doing over there?”

Rhianna folded her arms across her chest.  “I said release them.  I didn’t say I wanted to be anywhere near them when you did.”

Michael chortled, but he understood her concerns.  With the lumibugs assembling near the neck of the container, he knew their exodus would be swift.

As he neared the table that they sat upon, he noticed that they blinked faster and for longer, almost looking as though they were trying to be persistent in lending their many-hued glow.  None seemed frightened by his proximity either, even when he reached for the large bottle they sat within.

Breathing out a little sigh, Michael grabbed the container, and placed it beneath his arm, pointing it toward the side of the room away from Rhianna and their animals.  Grasping the cork that kept the lumibugs trapped inside the bottle, he tugged on both sides.  A satisfying pop sounded, and the insects took to the air—not in a furious escape, but in an almost serene show, as though they were like little snowflakes that were returning to the sky.

Even so, it didn’t take long for them to find what had excited them so.  One by one, the lumibugs landed on branches of the tall tree.  The liquid that had poured from the ceiling had them as excited as the tree, and for a moment Michael felt a sympathetic panic for his wife, wondering if the bugs, too, would grow to an immense size.

After a few moments had passed, and they remained tiny in stature, he felt a small wave of relief wash over him.  He did notice that the tree or the residual liquid had at least one effect on them.  Their lights diminished far less then, as though the scent of the mixture left them with a feeling of peace and contentment.

When Michael returned to his wife, he spotted the smile on her face.

“They look like Christmas lights,” Rhianna said.

From that vantage, a bit farther from the tree, she was right.  The scores of liberated insects left the huge tree looking a bit brighter, and it seemed that might have been what they were intended for.

Still, it didn’t seem to answer any questions, or unlock any doors.

The family heard a strange creaking above them then, and they looked to the ceiling, wondering what it could be.

All at once, the tree burst skyward again, empowered perhaps by the last remnants of liquid that dripped from the ceiling, or by some hidden magic that the lumibugs possessed.  Rhianna bent low and scooped the distracted kitty from the floor, while Michael ushered the doggies away to the safety.  The lot of them leapt onto the steps, hurrying to the landing at the halfway point below.

Above, the entire roof ripped off the building, revealing the starlit sky high above.  The DeAngelo family listened as the roof fell somewhere beside the house, a loud report sounding outside.

“What the heck is going on?” Rhianna cried.  “We were supposed to do all that, right?”

“What else were we going to do?” Michael replied, raising his voice as he contended with the strange echo of the scattering debris outside.  “Hey, we wanted a way out, now it looks like we have one.”

“What are we supposed to do—climb?”

“Sometimes I have troubles getting on the couch,” Maisie said.

“Alright, look, why don’t you stay here with the animals, and I’ll go check to make sure it’s okay,” Michael said.

“No,” Rhianna said, shaking her head.  “If we go, we go together.”

Her husband looked up toward the tree, wondering if there was even a way around it then.  “Fine.  But stay behind me just in case anything is wrong.”

“That was going to happen whether or not you warned us,” Rhianna said.

Michael snickered to himself, even though he felt a bit apprehensive about ascending the steps once more.  Still, he convinced himself to continue forth, and before long, he found himself before the large tree again.

In the time that they had reconvened on the steps, snow had begun to fall into the room, dusting the top of the tree’s branches in white.  Some of the lumibugs had flown away, eager for the chance to explore even further from their earlier trappings.  Many of them remained, however, leaving the tree looking even more festive.

As Michael circled around the tree again, keeping to the side of the room that he and Peanut had set to work within, he noticed a strange rhythmic rumble outside that seemed to shake the house every few moments.  He tried to follow it whenever he heard it return, and it seemed to come from the side of the room opposite the stairs.

When Michael looked in that direction though, he paused, and he arched an eyebrow.  With Rhianna and the animals close behind, then, he held out his arm to stop them from overtaking him.  He pointed toward the back of the room and made sure that Rhianna saw what he did.

“Those steps weren’t there before, right?” he asked.

Rhianna narrowed her eyes, trying to see the faraway area of the room.  “Steps that would have led to nowhere while the roof was still on this building?” she asked.  “No, I don’t think they were there before.”

Michael clicked his tongue while he considered his wife’s snarky tone.  “You just lost one of your presents this year, because you were mean,” he teased.  He also walked ahead, braving the open air behind the tree.  The man marched on, taking his first strides up the new set of steps.

When he arrived at the top, he froze.

His wife, the cat still curled up in a ball upon her arms, waited for some sort of sign for her to follow, but he didn’t seem to be offering up any indication that she should.

“Michael?” she called out.

He finally turned about, looking at her and placing a finger to his lips.  He paused to consider whether he should urge her onward, but he felt comfortable with the decision a few moments later and waved her toward him.

The dogs fell in line behind her, carefully circling around the giant tree.  They all noticed the caution that Michael exuded, but he continued to wave them on regardless.

“You’ll have to be very quiet,” he warned then.  “I don’t know how she managed to sleep through the roof falling off the house, but then, here we are.”

Who is she? Rhianna wondered, though she kept silent as Michael had recommended.  Zelda and Maisie hunched low to the ground and waited at the bottom of the steps as Rhianna ascended.

She, too, stopped in her tracks when she saw what was before her.

The steps led to a rocky crag, though the path before the DeAngelo family seemed to be flat and level.  The further back the route before them went though, the rockier and more uneven the sharp stones seemed to rise.

None of that concerned Michael and Rhianna then, however.  Not so far away, its snores shaking the crag and the house it nearly connected to, was a towering black dragon.

“Is that…?” Rhianna whispered.

Michael nodded.  “I’m pretty sure it is.  We haven’t seen her in over five years though.  And yet, she doesn’t look any worse for wear.”

Hearing them talk about someone they were familiar with, Zelda hopped up the few steps then, and peered ahead.  She didn’t realize at first what Michael and Rhianna were looking at.  But when she saw the dragon shift a bit, she took a few steps closer and sniffed at the air.  Peanut, sleeping off the effects of the catmint then, purred in satisfaction as she rested in Rhianna’s arms.  But the woman tousled her belly fluff a little bit, rousing her from her slumber.

Peanut blinked away her stupor and stretched while she was in her arm hammock.  But when she came to, she looked at Rhianna, who smiled and pointed down the path.

“Look who we have over there,” Rhianna said.

The cat turned her head to the side and spotted the dragon in the distance.  She sprang out of Rhianna’s grasp, and landed on the stony path, though she took a few steps forward and sat beside Zelda then.

Down below, the last member of the DeAngelo family remained apprehensive.  She could feel the rumbling a little clearer, then.  Though Maisie wasn’t one to shy away from things that were unfamiliar or even typically frightening, there was something about that noise that left her a bit uneasy.

Still, she crept up the steps, looking up at Michael and Rhianna, who had their arms wrapped around the other’s waist or shoulder.  For once, Zelda and Peanut also sat close by one another, not irked by the other’s presence, it seemed.

Maisie couldn’t help but feel as though there was something odd happening, and she was sure that she would get to the bottom of it.  She strode forward, pushing between the other dog and the cat, and she sat down at the forefront of the family—completely oblivious to the large black dragon on the other side of the path, whose dark scales blended somewhat into the uneven stones and the starlit sky.

The dragon took a deep breath then, and her chest rose as she filled her lungs with air.

Her eyes growing wide, Maisie finally understood what had caught the rest of her family’s attention.

“What the heck is that?” she cried.  The little dog immediately sprang back up and ran behind Zelda and Peanut, hiding behind her older siblings.

A moment passed that seemed long indeed.  Yet when all seemed quiet—the dragon’s slumbering breaths slowing—the recent arrivals to the stone path knew that they had roused the frightening beast.  Maisie shivered and ducked her head, hoping that she might have the means to turn invisible if the monster decided to gobble her up.

The dragon uncurled her body, digging her front claws into the ground while she stretched her chest and neck toward the sky.  She rolled the end of her neck one way and then the other, before she gave a little shake and steadied her gaze, looking toward the house.

“It is you,” she bellowed, her voice rich and deep.  “Just as he said it would be.”

“We meet again,” Michael said, smiling as he addressed the massive black dragon.

“I can’t believe it’s been half a decade already,” Rhianna said, stepping forward.

Bringing its wings up and back, the dragon settled into a more comfortable position a little closer toward the path.  “It was a blink of an eye, and the gaze of eternity,” she said.  “But I suppose that’s the sign of a life most enjoyed.”

Michael and Rhianna grabbed each other a little closer, then, and they looked at the rest of the family they had made over the years.

“And you little ones,” the dragon went on.  “You seem to be well and content also.”

Zelda sat a little taller, and bobbed her head at the assessment, a little grin upon her face.  Peanut shrugged and tilted to the side, believing it to be a fair judgment.

“Ah, but it seems we’ve added a member to the family,” the dragon said, peering between the cat and dog that she was familiar with.  “And who might you be?”

The younger dog still cowered a little bit behind her siblings, but she ventured a glance up to the mighty dragon.

“I’m…I’m Maisie,” she squeaked.

“A wonderful name for a splendid addition to the DeAngelo household.  I’m sure that if you’re on this journey with the rest of these travelers, you’re in good hands, and well looked after.”

Michael stepped forward and fell to a knee beside Maisie, scratching her side.  “We found each other, just like the rest of us.”

“It’s good to see you,” Rhianna said.  “But how have you come to be here?”

The dragon smiled, giving her tremendous wings a flap and sending a loud sound through the air.  “Our mutual friend went through a lot of work to find where you were, and to ensure you would be able to free yourself from the grasp of the prison behind you.  But it took more work than he was able to muster in one day and…”  The dragon stepped forward, shaking the rocky bridge leading to the family.  “I think it might just be easier if he explained it to you.”

“Santa?” Zelda asked, wagging her tail in excitement.  “Is he here?”

The dragon shook her head.  “No.  But I can bring you to him.”

Rhianna smiled and began forward.  “It’s been a strange night, but it’s been nice to see a familiar face.”

“My friends,” the dragon said, “it has been a strange year.  I’m glad to see you doing so well after all the difficulties that it brings, however.”

While Peanut and Zelda followed in Rhianna’s footsteps, Maisie still hesitated.  Michael felt some small shivers emanating from her, and he scooped her up, holding her against his chest.

“It’s alright puppy,” he said.  “She’s just our marriage dragon.  She may look a little scary at first, but she’s truly magical and majestic, and she’s never let us down.”

Maisie nuzzled against Michael’s neck, still unsure about the approach toward the mighty creature.  But Michael noticed that her shivers had subsided, and he rubbed her back for further encouragement.

Behind the dragon, a small rising outcropping of rocks served to help the DeAngelo family upon her back.  Peanut made the leap on her own, but Zelda needed a little help, Rhianna scooping her up and taking a long stride to step upon the creature’s dark scales.  When she had cleared the gap, she set the pup down, and Zelda scampered into place not far from where Peanut had settled.

Michael was not far behind then, and he joined the family upon the dragon’s back a moment later, setting Maisie down in front of him.  She peered up, and breathed out a sigh, happy to be on the dragon’s back instead of in her gaze, feeling as though she’d make a quick snack.

“Hold tight, everyone,” the marriage dragon warned.  “Let’s get you out of here.”

Though the DeAngelo family was ready for her wings to flap and lift them into the air, they were still surprised by the forceful gust of wind she produced.  Rhianna leaned forward, holding onto Zelda and Peanut, who had already dug their claws into the closest dragon scales beneath them.

As they rose higher into the air, Michael and Rhianna looked down at what had been their strange prison for the night.  From their vantage, they could see that it was a strange building indeed, surrounded by only a few other buildings that helped to make a convincing illusion that it had been their house.  But even those other constructions were only quickly put together, and not fully realized—more like set pieces than real structures.

Rhianna leaned back and arched her eyebrow.  “I wonder who set all this up to trap us here,” she said.

“Well it wasn’t Santa,” Michael said, reminding her of what the dragon had said.  “If he was looking for us, that means someone else got to us first this year.”

“It’s about to get a bit bumpier,” the dragon warned as she began flying forward.

The world around the strange house below seemed naught but a snowy wasteland, with nothing else except strange dark mountains dotting the landscape.  The DeAngelo family felt the powerful wind that blew through the area, especially on the downbeat of the dragon’s wings.

She let a powerful roar tear past her mouth, and Maisie’s shivering resumed.

But far ahead of her, a new portal opened in the sky, and the others understood that they were going to leave that land behind.

“We’ll be there soon, my friends,” the dragon said.  “Hold each other close and prepare yourselves.  You’ll see Santa before you know it!”

Michael reached forward, holding Maisie around her chest while he grabbed hold of Rhianna’s shoulder with his other hand.  She turned her head and kissed his hand before she reached out and touched Peanut and Zelda, creating a chain between the family members.

The dragon flew higher and higher, until she was far above the portal she had summoned, though still several hundred feet back.  Without further warning, she tucked back her wings, almost brushing them up against the family she held on her back.  She dove forward, racing toward the portal, which already looked as though it was beginning to close.

As fiercely as the family held on, they felt a weightlessness began taking hold.  Peanut and Zelda fell back a step, and Rhianna bent lower, ensuring they wouldn’t go anywhere.  Michael scooched forward, making sure that the rest of them were stable, while Maisie buried her face against the large black scales beneath her.

“Here we go!” the dragon bellowed.

They passed into the eye of the portal then, leaving their strange Christmas prison behind.

*          *          *

The door to the workshop opened, letting a gust of cold wind inside, along with a dusting of snow that cast about the floor.

“Ah, Revan,” the fellow in the bright red jacket said as he whittled away at a design at his desk.  “Is the sleigh ready to go?”

“There are still some more modifications I have to make, Santa,” the elf said.  “But I came here to give you better news than that.”

When he turned about, the man saw that five new guests had arrived.

“My friends!” he shouted out, lifting his hands in cheer.  “I knew that you would escape that blasted house before long.”

“We’re sorry if we missed any of the festivities,” Rhianna said.  “Then again, we weren’t expecting to be sucked into a dummy portal to a world that looked like our own.”

“Nor should you be punished for that,” Santa said, waving the DeAngelo family over toward his desk.  “I have a gift for you that I was hoping to give you a little bit earlier in the day, but it seems we’ve lost a bit of time.  Take hold of these, but don’t open them until we reach our destination.”  He handed two boxes and a bag to Michael, who grabbed them, but already wore a confused look upon his face.

“Destination?” he asked.  “But Santa, we just arrived here.”

“And I’m happy that you did, but we’re already running late.  And unfortunately, I spent a good deal of the last week trying to help you where I could to make sure you wouldn’t spend all the way through next Christmas in the prison house.”

“So that was you,” Michael replied.  “We thought that was you leaving us clues.  But why didn’t you just spring us out when you were setting things out for us to discover?”

“Come along,” the spirit of Christmas said.  “We can certainly talk about it on the way.”

Together, the six of them left the workshop, and Santa waved his hands before the doorway ahead of closing the way behind them.  The DeAngelo family watched as the lights dimmed in the building, and by the time they turned, Revan, the elf, had brought Santa’s sleigh out into the snow, a team of reindeer leading the way.

“Svetlana!” Zelda cried, rushing up to meet her reindeer friend.

Santa let a loud belly laugh escape his lips as he slapped his chest.  “She’s my lead reindeer this year,” he said.  “I kept hearing you sing her praises, Zelda, and I knew she needed a chance to shine.”

Revan hopped away from the driver’s seat then, hooking the reins upon the pommel at the front of the sleigh.

“It’s all primed and ready for you Santa,” she assured.  “Leoden made the changes to the navigation system as you requested, and you should be able to make it across the world even faster this year.”

“Wonderful,” he replied.  “And the reindeer are ready to take flight?”

“It’s been difficult to keep them to the ground,” Revan said with a smile.  She turned to the family members then and offered up a little bow.  “I’m sorry we didn’t get to spend more time together this year, but I’m sure next year will be better.  And it was nice to meet you, Maisie!”

The little dog’s tail wagged as she spun about in excitement.

“Do we get to come here every year?” she asked Rhianna.

“Nothing could keep us away,” the woman replied with a smile.

“Alright, in we go,” Santa said.  He shuffled into the driver’s seat of the sleigh while he waited for the others to move into the rear seat.  Peanut and Maisie were quick to join Michael and Rhianna there, but Zelda still chatted with the reindeer at the front of the team.

“Come on Zelda!” Michael called out.

“Okay,” they heard the little dog say.  “Bye!”  At once, she came bounding over to the rest of her family, and she joined them there in the sleigh.  The animals sat between the two humans in the back seat, who leaned over and shared a Christmas kiss.

“Up we go!” Santa cried, giving a light snap of the reins.

At once, Svetlana led the way, marching forward for a few steps and urging the other reindeer on.  Together, they sprinted ahead in step, and once they’d picked up enough speed, they burst into the air, lifting the sleigh along with them.

“So, you wanted to know why I wasn’t there with you?” Santa asked as they reached a steady pace.  “Would that I could have,” he said.  “But I had been there before you.  Once I realized that you weren’t joining us for some reason this year, I went on a search to find you.  I reached out to all our mutual friends to find you, but it was your family’s guardian dragon who finally helped me locate you.

“It seems that faux house was set up for you for months, at least by my estimations,” he went on.  “Over the years, you’ve been dependable allies for me and indeed for all of Christmas, and it seems that’s been learned by those who would wish to cause trouble for us instead.  But I couldn’t have just left you there, so I had to hatch my own plan, but I needed plenty of time to do it.  With your dragon’s help, I made my way to the house, but I went there days ago, using some of my Christmas magic.  I couldn’t adjust my plans this close to the big day, so I needed to give myself more time to help you.  That’s why you found the tome, and why I left some extra clues around to give you a leg up.”

“You couldn’t be there in person, so you were there in spirit,” Peanut said, stepping up to lean on the back of Santa’s seat.

“That’s right, little one,” he explained.  “As much as I would have preferred to spend most of this day with all of you.”

“But who would have wanted to trap us?” Rhianna wondered.  “I’m sure there could have been others who wanted to ruin Christmas who could have done so with much more nefarious means.”

“Well, I don’t think our impish adversary was prepared for anything besides mischief this year.  After all, none of what you experienced was dangerous, and even when I had made my way through the puzzles he’d set up for you, I thought it was all to benefit you and your sense of imagination and whimsy anyway.”

“Santa, do you know who it was who captured us?” Michael asked.

He paused for a moment as he turned toward the brightened moon.  “I have my suspicions.  You read the book I’d given you all those years back, yes?”

“I did,” Rhianna said.  “Are you saying it’s…?”

“I’m almost certain it’s my brother,” Santa said.  “After all these years, he’s managed to find me, but he’s still playing his games.  And I imagine he’s a bit hurt that it turned out I was alive when he’d thought me dead for centuries upon centuries.”

“Your brother?” Michael said, surprised and excited by the idea of one of Santa’s siblings introducing himself.

“In any case, he’s interrupting some of my most trusted associates,” Santa said, offering a wink as he turned about in his seat to look at the DeAngelo family.  “We’ll have to be ready for him next year.

“In the meantime,” he went on, “let’s talk about this year for a moment, shall we?  As I understand it, you spent a considerable amount of time in your own home before you were whisked away to the fake one, correct?”

“Yeah,” Rhianna said, bowing her head.  “Along with nearly everyone else.”

Santa nodded.  “Word of this year’s troubles reached me long ago, and I knew that you could use a moment of reprieve.  After my tasks this year, I wanted to bring you someplace special.  Well,” he said with a laugh, “since you were wrapped up in my brother’s traps, I managed to have some of my other friends help me about the north pole.  But it would seem a waste not to give you the gift I’d intended.  What do you say?  Are you ready to take one last journey this Christmas?”

“Yeah!” Zelda said, jumping for joy in the back of the sleigh.

“Let’s go!” Maisie shouted.

With a smile upon his face, Santa turned back to face the front of his sleigh.  He reached forward, flicking a switch on the dashboard of their vehicle.

“That’s new, isn’t it?” Michael asked.  “What does that dooooooooooo!”

Before he could finish speaking, a roar from behind them explained the answer to the man’s question as the new navigation system on the sleigh flickered to life.  In the blink of an eye, the sleigh and the reindeer zipped forward across the sky, leaving the north pole behind them.

Far below where they had been flying, a dragon soared above the frozen plains, swooping down on tremendous, icy worms that burst from the snow.

*          *          *

The warm sands were a pleasant change of pace, and the gentle lapping of the waves was almost enchanting.  Zelda and Maisie ran toward the receding waters and sprinted back away from them when they came rushing back onto the shore.

Michael and Rhianna, sitting a little further upon the golden sands, spent their time crafting an impressive sandcastle that watched out over the rest of the beach.  It felt strange to be in such a balmy place in the middle of December, and even stranger to be there in bathing suits—the outfits that Santa had gifted to them that year.  But just as Father Christmas had said, it had been a stressful year indeed, and they weren’t going to miss a chance to finally sit back and relax for a change.

Peanut sat further ahead up the beach, every now and then taking a step off the blanket they had set out, and every time thinking better of it before curling up in a ball and laying in the pleasant rays of sunlight that cast down from the beautiful sky above.

“Now don’t go treating this beach like your own personal litter box,” Michael teased.

The cat was already snoring though, glad to be in a quiet place—with a bucket of fish at her side.

All the family paused what they were doing then, for they heard a jolly cry high above them.  With smiles upon their face, they looked upon the sleigh, the reindeer and the man—and the banner that flew behind them.

“Merry Christmas to you,” Michael read.

“And a very happy and healthy New Year,” Rhianna finished.

The husband and wife leaned toward each other once again, and gave each other another Christmas kiss.

Happy Holidays everyone!

If you enjoyed this story, check out the DeAngelo Christmas Archive.

The post Christmas Escape appeared first on Tellest.

A blustery cold blew through the town, convincing its residents to keep inside to stay warm.  In one of the snow-covered houses along the corner of one of the streets, what had been a quiet winter night in years past was filled with raucous growls and grumbles.

When Zelda began running in circles, it was in excitement and anticipation.  It didn’t take long for Maisie, the little black-and-white dog, and newest member of the DeAngelo family, to surmise that those loops around the living room was an invitation to play.  Back and forth they nipped at each other, spinning about the area, completely unfazed by the gazes that landed on them.

Rhianna and Michael, sitting on the couch, watched in silence as Zelda sent playful snarls toward her younger sister.  They alternated glances at each other as well, and at the clock, waiting for the coming hour.

The cat, sitting atop the back of the couch, had no means of telling time, and tested the timing every few moments with a curious meow.  Michael reached up and back, scratching Peanut on the back of her head.

During a break in the dogs’ chase, Rhianna began laughing at the sight of the pups.  Zelda still grumbled, but Maisie’s face was almost entirely engulfed in her older sister’s mouth.

Though it was faint, the wind seemed to grow in force from the back of the house.  Nobody seemed to notice that sound, however, as another shift came from within as Zelda’s muffled grumbles became something else entirely.

“An dunth ftherget: yerftha pthuppy, awm the adthult,” Zelda said.

For a moment, there was a pause, even as Maisie contemplated the strange noises coming out of her sister’s throat.  She hopped back then, her eyes gone wide.

Zelda chomped at the air and licked her lips.

“Finally!” Peanut spoke then, sighing for good measure the next instant.  She hopped from her perch atop the couch and lingered by the silver water bowls beside the kitchen.  “I’ve been waiting all year for this.  Huamns: I demand a separate bowl.  This one insists on drinking out of mine!”

Once again, Maisie nearly hopped in shock at the sudden new voice in the house, so strange yet so familiar.  She let out a befuddled whimper and tilted her head sideways, listening as the feline spoke her dismay.

“Aww!” Rhianna exclaimed as she rose from the couch.  “She didn’t know they were going to talk.”

“You guys didn’t tell her?” Michael asked.

Zelda’s ears lowered as though she were being reprimanded.

Peanut simply sat where she was, arching one of her furry eyebrows.  “So that’s it?  That’s the end of our water bowl discussion?”

Rhianna bent down and scooped Maisie off the floor, holding her against her chest as she lifted her up.  Confronted with the odd sounds coming out of her sisters’ mouths, Maisie felt confused and vulnerable.  She nuzzled into Rhianna’s neck, finding comfort and safety there.

“It’s alright little one,” Rhianna said, kissing the top of the little dog’s head.  “This is a magical time of year, and we’re so excited that you’re old enough to experience it with us this time.”

“I guess we better get ready, huh?” Michael asked, rising from the couch.  “What dangers do you think we’ll have to deal with this year?”

“Mean ol’ polar bears!” Zelda exclaimed.

“Another trip to the vet,” Peanut muttered.

“Sentient Christmas wreathes that try to land on our heads and squeeze us until we pass out,” Rhianna suggested.

“I like that one,” Michael said.

Rhianna, still holding Maisie aloft, walked through the kitchen and peered outside.  Together, they could see the wind whipping the snow this way and that.  But when it began moving in a circular motion, the woman couldn’t hold back her smile.  “Are you ready?” she asked Maisie.

At once, as though she had predicted its arrival down to the second, a flash of magic appeared in the back yard of the DeAngelo household.  Maisie began following that swirl of wind and snow, almost like she was drawing circles against the glass of the door with her nose.  Beneath her, Zelda stepped up against the door as well, her mouth spread into a smile.

Wider and wider the portal grew, its power causing the door to shake a bit as the wind pressed against it.  Though loud noises often frightened Zelda, she was more than eager to dive into the portal, and she scratched at the door to get her chance.

“What do you think?” Michael asked.  “Are we all dressed warm enough to take our little trip?”

“The excitement is what keeps me warm,” Zelda insisted.

Rhianna chuckled.  “Don’t you notice that every time we go to visit Santa, he’s always got a new outfit for us?”

“Alright, so what are we doing just sitting around here.  He’s waiting for us.”  He looked back at Peanut, still pacing around her water bowl.  Without any hesitation, he reached down and scooped her up, holding her under her arms.  “Let’s get to it!”

The portal in the back yard seemed stable then, its light flashing against the shed at the far side of the yard, and even the neighbor’s house.

Rhianna pulled on the door handle, and the wind jerked it forward.  Maisie skittered against the wind, even as Zelda charged forward, unable to rein in her excitement.  She skittered to a stop then, when she heard a tiny little whimper.  The older dog spun about, seeing how fiercely she nuzzled against Rhianna’s neck.

“It’s okay Maisie!” she promised.  “You’re going to love it.  It’s Christmas!”  She spun about then again and leapt into the swirling vortex.

Though it took all her courage to pry herself away from her safe little nook, Maisie lifted her head and noticed that Zelda was gone.  With a slow turn of her head, she looked to Rhianna, her ears tucked back.

“It’s alright, pig butt,” Michael teased, patting her on the head as he passed her.  “We’ll keep you safe, and before you know it, you’ll be having the best time!”  He closed the door behind Rhianna, and walked on, stopping at the lip of the portal.  Peanut kicked off his chest then, springing into the gateway.  Chuckling, Michael spun about, nodding to his wife and the little pup.  With a little backward hop, he disappeared into the swirling magic.

With all the rest of their family gone from view, Maisie looked back at Rhianna, nervously licking her lips.  The woman gave her a few loving pats down her spine, but she was already inching toward the portal.

“It’s okay Maisie,” Rhianna said.  “We’ll do it together, alright?”

Letting out a little whimper, the newest member of the DeAngelo family peered into the gaping maw of the incredible magic portal.  She closed her eyes and smashed her head back into Rhianna’s chest.

Though she was sympathetic to the dog’s nervousness, Rhianna couldn’t hold back a chuckle.  She grabbed the pup extra tight and jumped into the vortex.  With a roar of mystical power, the way closed behind them.

The DeAngelo family was once again on their way to visit an old friend.

*          *          *

Covered in snow, the black spots on Maisie’s body were lost in a sea of white.  It was only the darker coloring on her head that made her stand out then, and she barked in dismay when she looked ahead and didn’t see anyone around her.  Far in the distance, trees speckled the landscape, and mountains dotted the horizon, but there was nothing else, and she felt all alone.

The snow surrounding her body gave way then, and a warm hand scooped under her belly and plucked her off the ground.  In an instant, she was snuggled against Michael’s chest, and he brushed the remnants of frost off her body, planting a kiss on her head for good measure.

“We found you,” he said, rubbing her ears to warm them up.

As he turned about, Maisie could see that the rest of her family was there too.  Zelda marched through the snow, dismissing the cold and the uneven ground.  Peanut was more careful with her steps, working hard at keeping above the powdery snow.  Still, she moved in the same direction—toward the lodge not so far away that seemed to be awash in warmth and light.

The light framed Rhianna, who reached out to her husband and the little dog.  He took her hand, and together they made their way through the cold, though it seemed not to bother them in the slightest.

When they neared the door, it swung open, and a figure seemed to dance there for a moment before stopping and staring out into the cold.  Obscured by lanternlight, the DeAngelo family couldn’t quite identify who it was, but they sensed warm-heartedness.

A tiny, happy gasp escaped the maiden, who moved out onto the stone step at the lodge’s entrance.  With peach-colored skin that was made rosier by the nip of cold that rushed out at her, and fern-green hair that framed her angular face, she looked unlike any elf the family had seen.

They recognized the friendliness of one of Santa’s helpers though: an exuberance in her eyes, a mischievous yet welcoming smile parting her lips.

As pleasant and outgoing as Santa’s elven friends were, though, the DeAngelo’s were completely caught off guard by her unrestrained excitement as she threw out her arms and hopped into the air.

“You’re here!”

The maiden charged forward, unfazed by the snow.  She passed Zelda and Peanut, who sneered at being ignored.  She raced by Rhianna, who arched an eyebrow.  And as the chipper elf neared Michael, his eyes grew wider by the second, for she seemed unwilling to stop.

Stop she did though, just before knocking into him.  She brought her arms back together, playfully poking Maisie while making impish little noises.

The little dog’s eyes opened a bit wider then, and she passed glances at Rhianna and Michael, who simply shrugged at the peculiar behavior.

Her looks to her family weren’t lost to the elf maiden, who took a step back and tilted her head.  “You mean you don’t recognize me?” she said.

“I’m sorry,” Rhianna said.  “I don’t mean to sound rude, but…we don’t recognize you at all.”

“Well of course not, silly!” the maiden chirped.  “I haven’t met any of you—though of course I’ve heard all about you from Revan, and Leoden, and Narala, and Rosewyn.”  She turned back to the black and white dog cradled in Michael’s arms then.  “But you and I know each other very well,” she said to Maisie, “even if you don’t quite remember me.  I was the one who chose you for your family.”

Maisie’s eyes seemed to twinkle as she looked at the maiden.  She tilted her head to the side as though she was trying to understand her.

“You mean you’re the reason we can’t have nice things?” Peanut grumbled.

The maiden waived that notion away.  “You just have one really great thing,” she said, placing her hands on either side of Maisie’s face and lifting them up as if to make Maisie smile.  “When Santa realized Zelda needed a new friend last year, he asked me to help you find each other.  And I think I chose just right, because these people seem to love you very much.”

“She’s alright,” Zelda yipped.

“You can feign interest all you like, but we’ve seen you snuggling with her,” Michael said, eliciting a shrug from the other dog.

“So, you know us,” Rhianna said.  “But we haven’t quite been properly introduced.”

The maiden closed her eyes and shook her head.  “Of course.  Where are my manners.  I’m Cecelia,” she said, offering a slight curtsy to the guests for good measure.  “No need to introduce yourselves, I already know you well.”

“Have you been spying on us?” Peanut asked.

“We just observe you every now and again,” Cecelia informed.  “It’s nothing to worry about.”

“Then you’re aware of all the things she’s eaten,” Michael speculated.

“I am,” the maiden returned.

“The safety-pin?” Rhianna asked, squinting as if to deflect from the embarrassment.

“The cords?” Michael wondered.

“My toys!” Zelda exuberantly added.

“The couch,” Peanut sneered.

Cecelia chuckled then.  “Along with so many other things.  But it’s fine.  Some people are curious with their eyes.  Maisie is just curious with her mouth.”

“Well she’s certainly been an expensive gift,” Michael teased.  “But it’s a cost that is certainly worth it.”

“She won’t always be so mischievous,” the elf said, petting the pooch on the head.  “Anyway, we should be getting you all inside, and out of the cold.  I’m used to it, but I can see you all starting to shiver!”

“We’re fine,” Zelda said, through chittering teeth.  “But we are ready to meet up with Santa and finding out what the next big catastrophe is.  We’re ready to save the day!”

“Why are the rest of you always ready to jump headfirst into danger?” Peanut muttered.

Cecelia giggled.  “It’s alright, kitty.  We didn’t bring you here for danger this year.  Just dinner.  Come along,” she said, waving the rest of the family into the lodge.

As Michael and Rhianna walked side by side, he leaned over to her.  “Not fiskeblugen, I hope,” he whispered.

They felt warm at once upon entering the lodge, its lanterns offering up meager light, but the crackling fire in the main room burning brightly.  Cecelia closed the door behind them, strengthening that toasty feeling they enjoyed.

As they made their way through the building, the maiden gestured toward a room in the back.  Two new ensembles were strewn out atop a bed there, looking to be about the sizes of the human guests.  “As you said earlier, Santa is always happy to provide you a new outfit upon your arrival here in Tellest,” Cecelia said.  “These clothes should allow you to look a bit more appropriate for the other guests that we’ll be expecting.”

“Thank you,” Rhianna said, hurrying into the room to observe her new wardrobe.

When the rest of the family joined her there, Cecelia closed the door.  Rhianna held up her outfit—a brown, laced vest that would sit upon a puffy white shirt.  A pair of black slacks and new boots were present as well.  Some jewelry sat atop the pile: a pair of gold bands meant to clasp onto the arms just below the shoulders.

“This is going to look very slimming,” Rhianna teased.

Michael was already setting out his own attire.  “It’s times like these where I feel more dressed up than you, honey,” he said.  His garb included a shiny, short sleeved leather tunic with an assortment of buckles, with fancy leather bracers to match.  A fancy red shirt, along with black trousers of his own, completed the look.

After a few moments, the husband and wife donned their new apparel, and emerged from the room, looking dapper and elegant.

Cecelia hopped off the settee in the main room and burst into applause.  “You two look great!”

“Hey, what about us!” Zelda piped up then, eliciting a chuckle from the maiden.

“You know, after your costume changes last year, we thought maybe you could just be yourself this year.  After all, last year you were all wound up,” Cecelia joked.

“Wait a minute…” they heard then, and they looked down to see Peanut tilting her head sideways.  She alternated glances between the elf maiden and Rhianna, finally narrowing her eyes and letting her face go sour.  “You talked about the outfit back in our house.  They have been spying on us!”

“You have?” Michael asked.  “All the time?”

Cecelia simply shrugged and nodded.

Michael covered his chest with one arm and reached for his trousers with the other.

“I’m sure you know by now, Santa takes decency very seriously.  He watched you throughout the year to make sure that even though there were some stressful times, you still cared for and loved one another, and the rest of your family and friends as well.  And not just those folks, but the strangers you meet too.  After all, who is Santa if not the epitome of joy, purity and peace?”

Peanut clicked her tongue and looked away, as if bothered by the concept.

“Oh, come now, kitty,” Cecelia said.  “I’ve seen how friendly you’ve been to Michael and Rhianna’s friends that come over.  You’re very personable, even though you pretend not to be.  Even you skittish puppies let your guard down after a little bit when you know there’s no trouble!”

“Until our guests leave again,” Rhianna mentioned.  “Then they try to act all tough again and ‘chase’ the intruders out.”

“We have to earn our keep,” Zelda stated matter-of-factly.

While everyone spoke, Maisie kept looking at her sisters, confused by the way they seemed to speak the same strange noises as their people usually did.

“So how does he see us?” Rhianna wondered.  “Santa, I mean.  Does he just tap into our security cameras whenever he needs to check in on us?”  She gave Michael a playful smack on his shoulder.  “I told you we always have to unplug that thing.”

Cecelia giggled.  “I’m sure that if he wanted to, he could employ your surveillance golem to do his bidding.  But you must remember, Santa has powers beyond our imagining.  And some things are meant to be secret, aren’t they?”

The members of the DeAngelo family stood there, contemplating that sentiment.

Zelda, though, had other things in mind.  “I’m just going to ask him next time I see him.”

The people around her couldn’t help but laugh at that innocent manner of thought.

“You be sure to do that,” Cecelia said.  “Come along.  I’ll bring you to the kitchen where we can wait for our other guests to arrive.”

“That’s right, you did say that we’d be meeting with other folk,” Michael recalled.  “Are these people we’ve met before on our prior trips here, or are we making the acquaintance of someone new?”

“I suppose Santa wouldn’t mind if I told you all a little of why he’s brought you here today,” Cecelia said.  “You’ve already proven your heroism and helpfulness on countless occasions, and he’s excited to tout your achievements to the others once we all settle in.  You are to be our ambassadors this evening—heroes and diplomats who have saved alliances in the past, and even Christmas itself!”

“Ambassadors,” Rhianna echoed.  “I like that.  So, what kind of peace are we trying to broach, exactly?”

Cecelia nodded.  “You should be aware of the parties involved, if for nothing else to know and understand the situation.  I assure you though, all the troubles have nearly been rectified already anyway.

“Not long ago,” she continued, “the three races that populated this valley managed to live in relative peace with one another.  The giants of Hjelle Mountain, inhabiting the caves there, slumbered for months at a time, and then went into the northern wastes to hunt katarak mammoths.”

Zelda tilted her head to the side.  “But isn’t this the North Pole?” she wondered.  “How is it possible for them to go even more northerer?”

Cecelia shrugged.  “I guess that’s just what the southerners call it, and we call it that for consistency’s sake.”  She waved her hand, focusing back on her story.  “Anyway, the giants mostly ignored the other two races, for they were much too small to bother with, and they would keep to themselves in their own areas of the valley.

“The elves of Andal Forest communed with the smaller animals there, hiding from the cold of endless winter, and spending their days looking at the stars in the twilight of the frozen north.  They live close by—Santa has offered them employment on more than one occasion to help make his toys.  As you know, we elves have nimble fingers, so whenever something requiring a deft touch is needed, we’re usually the first that Mister Klaus asks.

“The dwarves of Clan Lochmoor are the final race that calls these frigid snows home, although they usually keep to themselves within the mines to the southwest.  Santa would probably never admit this, but he holds a special place in his heart for the dwarves, having carried on with their kind a great deal in his former home.”

Rhianna gave Michael a light elbow in his ribs and sent him a knowing glance when he looked her way.

“Everything was going rather well,” Cecelia went on.  “Santa was just about to establish a new alliance with the giants to help him put together a new workshop on the other side of the tundra so that we could get twice the work done.”

Cecelia bowed her head a little bit as she recalled the goings on in the area.  “But some things happened more recently that caused a schism between the three races, and it all started with a beautiful gem that was found recently out in the wilderness.  When a pair of giants were out on a hunt, chasing down a katarak, one of their clubs smashed into the ground, tearing through ice and earth and revealing the stone underneath.  But when the snow settled, and the katarak fled to safety, the giants realized they didn’t quite care to give chase anymore.  Below them, in the divot they’d carved out by mistake, a beautiful scarlet glow seemed to radiate into the frozen waste.  Though it was small, the ruby embedded in the stone entranced them, and they worked at plucking it from the stone.  Without tools though, even the fierce and powerful giants couldn’t tug it free.”

Cecelia led them into the lodge’s kitchen then and sat them at a small table.  With a smile, she moved her way through the room, fetching cured meat treats for the animals, and cookies for the humans.  “It didn’t take long for the other races to hear of its discovery,” she said then, as she placed two large glasses of eggnog at the table for Michael and Rhianna.  “In fact, it didn’t help that it was far enough away from Mount Hjelle as it was.  All three races claimed that the ruby was a part of their territory, and each of them were ready to go to war for it in that frigid place out there in the open.  But, well…something happened before then that caused even more problems than that.”

Before Cecelia could go on, the family heard the jingling of bells from a door on the opposite side of the lodge.  At once, Michael and Rhianna wore grins, for they sensed who had arrived, even without seeing him.

“Ho, ho, ho there,” a husky voice cried out.  “I do believe my great friends are here.”

Though Maisie was unfamiliar with the voice, her sisters knew it well three years later.  Zelda and Peanut finished up their snacks and sat upright and at attention.  While the cat kept her cool upon seeing Santa, Zelda couldn’t shroud her excitement, and her enthusiasm had her spinning in circles at once as the Christmas wizard entered the room.

“Santa!” the auburn-colored chihuahua shouted.  She jumped up against him several times, smacking her paws upon his burly legs.

“Welcome back, you four—ah, pardon me, it seems there are five of you now,” he said with a wink.

As he drew closer, Peanut too approached him, coiling around his leg in a gesture of reacquaintance.  Michael extended his arm, and Rhianna prepared to curtsy, but Santa was there in an instant.  “My friends, there is room for many things in the great north, but one thing we have no room for is politeness.”  Without offering up any other warning, he reached forth, and embraced the husband and wife in a great bear hug, squeezing them tight until each of them pressed out a little squeak.

“And we have yet to be introduced, little one,” Santa said as he neared Maisie.  She cowered away, just a bit, but the jolly fellow was quick, and his reach was long.  In a mere moment, he was there upon her, tousling the fur on her head.

“So, Cecelia,” he went on then, “how goes my dear friends?”

“Everything is going splendid, Sir,” she said.  “Their trip here went off without a hitch, and I’ve just been explaining the situation at hand.”

Michael nodded.  “Cecelia mentioned that there was no catastrophe to clean up this year, but it sounds like war is ready to break out right at your doorstep.”

“Ah, then you’ve heard about the ruby,” Santa surmised.

“And we heard that there was something else that caused even bigger problems,” Rhianna added.

“That is putting it mildly, yes,” Santa said.  “And it didn’t help that the ruby struck one of the races with a seemingly relentless curiosity.  Where there was one gem, they figured, there were sure to be more.  Almost at once, the dwarves set out, aiming their mine in the direction of where they thought the ruby was.  Well, there is perhaps nothing so important to a dwarf as something shiny—at least in these parts—and their mirth and their interest drove them forth faster than anyone could have imagined.  All told, everyone in the region can take some inspiration in their hard work.”

“But…” Cecelia said, urging Santa back toward the point he was trying to make.

He nodded, understanding that he had steered a bit off track.  “That unyielding persistence and determination wasn’t without its own troubles,” he went on.  “In their blind craving for more gems, the dwarves dug straight through many days and nights, causing near-irreparable damage to more than just their bodies.  They pushed right past where the ruby was originally found, underneath the tundra, and into the earth right below where the giants slumbered.  You can imagine how upset one of the giants was when he collapsed into a tremendous sinkhole that opened up right beneath his bed!

“Enraged, the giant erupted in a fit of violence, reaching for the dwarves who attacked his home,” Santa continued, waving his hands and looking at the ceiling as though he were watching it all play out before him.  “The mine shaft that the dwarves constructed to that point fell in on itself as he knocked away support beams and stabilizing pillars.  It was all the dwarves could do to sneak past the giant while he flailed and hollered.  In the darkness, they saw much better than he did, and could scale the shallow pit that they’d accidentally opened up with some manner of ease, thanks to their mattocks.

“They didn’t escape his gaze for long though,” he clarified.  “Once he climbed out of his new basement, he saw the little dwarves exiting right through the front door of his cave and pursued them again.”

“I get it,” Rhianna muttered to Michael.  “I’d be mad too if someone woke me up without any coffee.”

“While all this was going on, mind you, I was in the frozen wastes, solving our ruby problem,” Santa said.  “Imagine my surprise when a half dozen dwarves and a mighty giant charged across the area, looking like they thought I was aiming to steal the thing.  But they just passed me by, completely unconcerned with what I was doing—mind you I was working at stabilizing the relationship between the three races.”

“So, what ended up happening?” Michael wondered.  “I don’t see this ending well.”

“It nearly ended in bloodshed!” Santa confirmed.  “The giant chased the dwarves into the Andal Forest, tearing a whole tree out at the roots.  He swung it about like a mighty club, knocking over other trees while he was at it, and opening up a new sinkhole right into another branch of the dwarves’ mine.  Some of them managed to scramble into that, but the giant blocked it off with one of the fallen trees before they all could.

“By the time I arrived, and tried to invoke some calm, the elves had gathered up arms and drawn their weapons,” he stated.

“To be fair,” Cecelia chimed in, “they probably thought it was an invasion.”

“I am not in disagreement about anyone’s feelings or fears,” Santa agreed.  “But a whole series of accidents nearly thrust the region into chaos that I was completely unprepared for.  It took a great speech and an impassioned plea to make sure that the area I stood within didn’t become a battlefield.  But, with luck, I settled the tensions, and didn’t end up a splattering on the snow-covered forest floor, or a pincushion filled with elven arrows.”

“And now we’re here to celebrate!” Zelda cried out.

“That’s right!” Santa cheerfully confirmed.  “I brought you here for reasons twofold: first, you’ve done me a great kindness for three years already, and if anyone can speak to the importance of everyone getting along, especially during this time of year, it’s the DeAngelo family.  I also know that every time I bring you here I have you risk your lives, so I’m hoping it will be a nice change of pace for you to come here without everything falling apart around you!”

“We’re just happy to be able to visit you again,” Rhianna said.  “Though of course none of us are the kind of people to turn down free food.”

“Except for Peanut,” Michael muttered.  “She can be pretty finnicky when she wants to be.”

The cat sneered at him.  “If it’s finnicky to request three sardines, all perpendicular to one another, carefully strewn upon a velvet pillow, I’m afraid I am.”

Before anyone could react to that absurd comment, they heard a hasty pounding on the door.

Cecelia stepped forward, tapping Santa on his shoulder.  “You stay here and talk to your friends.  I’ll go tend to our latest guests.”

“Thank you, my dear,” came his joyful reply.  He turned back to the DeAngelo family and clapped his gloved hands together.  “What do you say I bring you to the dining area?  We have plenty of goodies and treats to be had, and I know that even though Cecelia is helping where she can, my attention will be divided.  Better I leave you in the presence of some tasty refreshments than here tending to the kitchen.  I don’t want anyone to think you’re the help,” he said with a wink.

The DeAngelo family took what little remained of their drinks, cookies and meat snacks, and followed Santa into what felt like a maze of corridors.

“Santa?” Michael asked.  “I’ve been wondering: how exactly are you supposed to indulge the delegate from the giants?  The lodge is roomy in some places, but it’s hardly big enough to…”  His words trailed off then, as they entered the main dining area of the evening.

A series of steps descended somewhat into the ground, but the walls remained high, without a second floor to ruin the scene.  The view was beautiful as well, for the ceiling in the chamber was made of glass that was so fine, it seemed to be invisible.  Santa’s guests looked at the sky in awe, observing the starry tapestry, and the aurora that passed by overhead.

A wide banquet table was situated on the far side of the chamber, and to one side, a tall evergreen stood, adorned with many lights and baubles, along with long strings of garland.  The tree itself would have been as tall as a giant, they realized.

“You were saying?” Santa said.

“Don’t worry about him,” Rhianna teased.  “He’s just way too cynical.”  She nudged him on his side.  “You see?  Everything works out fine if you just believe.”

Their jolly host let a hearty laugh shake him to his core.  As that laughter continued, he turned about, heading back through the lodge to meet his companion, and the arriving guests.

Left alone, Michael and Rhianna and their pets looked across the room, spotting the food that the north had prepared for them.  Nuts, dried, thin cuts of meats, grapes and cheeses rested on the table on the other side of the room.  The food sat illuminated by a beautiful fireplace across the way, and the mugs and dishware seemed to shine in that light.

While the sight of it was enough to make anyone salivate, the lot of them could hear the frantic licks of one of their family members.  They all looked about, until they sensed the desperation of the newest member of the household.  Maisie licked her lips, and only ventured a glance elsewhere when she felt everyone’s gaze land upon her.  She looked back to the food a moment later, her whole body shaking at the prospect of the tremendous dinner that was about to be in her belly.

“Come on babies,” Rhianna said with a laugh.  “Let’s go see what we can get you to tide you over.”

“Assume the begging position!” Zelda said as she hopped on her two back feet as they drew closer to the banquet table.

When they passed closer to the far end of the room, Michael and Rhianna noticed the tremendous double doors built into the side of the lodge.  No doubt that was fashioned just for the delegate from the giants—they wondered if the lodge was built with them in mind, or if that gateway was added later.

Their attention shifted elsewhere, then, for as they passed the sides of the table, they saw the magnificent gem that was responsible for the event that evening.  The beautiful ruby sat at the center of the table, lying against an ornate horn that seemed a hollow attempt at seeming anywhere near as attractive as the real focal point.

Michael and Rhianna approached the table and picked a few pieces of food off the table and fed the animals that crowded around them.  Once the dogs and the cat were somewhat placated, Rhianna picked up a silver goblet, taking a gulp of the crimson drink inside it.

“Whoa!” she said.  “That’s the best wine I think I’ve ever had.  Santa knows his stuff.”

Michael shrugged.  “I don’t know if I’ll like whatever’s in here,” he said as he reached for a golden mug that seemed to overflow with foam.  “I wouldn’t mind some more eggnog though.”

“Give it a try,” Rhianna suggested.  “Who knows?  Maybe Tellest beer is something you can actually enjoy.”

He couldn’t argue with that idea, and he took a small sip of the beverage then.  His eyes grew wide and he licked his lips.  “Oh wow.  That tastes just like butterb—”

“Don’t say it!” Rhianna interrupted.  “Even in Tellest we’re not safe from trademark infringement!”

Michael accepted that wisdom with a nod, and happily drank from the mug again.

“I see the party started without me,” they heard then.  On the other side of the room, a newcomer emerged from the corridor they had exited from a few moments earlier.  “The big man always sets up one heck of a feast, so I’m surprised ye left anything fer the rest of us!”

They could see, even from that distance, that the first of Santa’s other guests was a dwarf—the delegate of Clan Lockmoor, no doubt.  Neither Michael or Rhianna had ever seen a dwarf dressed quite so dapper though.  He wore golden bands in his dark brown beard and hair, keeping his coif proper and clean.  A fancy vest, lined with black and yellow trim, rested over a linen shirt that was tucked into leather bracers as well.

“Halgrum’s me name,” he said as he drew closer.  “I’m sure our mutual friend told ye all about the spat we dwarves had with the elves and the giants, eh?”

“He told us bits and pieces,” Rhianna replied.  “It’s good that you were able to avoid a dangerous conflict.”

“Aye,” Halgrum said as he rounded the table.  “The big man has a habit of bringing out the best in people.  Why, just a few months ago, before all the mess with…”  His words trailed off once he realized the humans weren’t the only “ambassadors” that Santa had brought to the feast.  With a gasp, he threw his hands up to his face.  “Puppies!”  He fell to his knees then, petting the dogs with his stubby hands.  Peanut, not immediately revered, sneered and strolled beside him then, earning a few pets of her own.

“I think I see why Santa invited us here this year,” Michael snickered.

Before Halgrum could reign in his thoughts to speak to Santa’s ambassadors again, the DeAngelo family were attended to by another of the delegates.

“I could have sworn I heard one of those malodorous tunnel-carvers from Lochmoor,” came an unexpected voice.  Neither Michael nor Rhianna could hide their surprise, having hopped back a few steps at the sudden appearance of the elf from the Andal Forest.

Halgrum grunted, and rose from the floor, peering past the table.  “Ye got to be careful around this one,” he warned.  “He’s sneakier than a shadow, and greedier with gold and gems than a dragon.”

Though the two delegates slung harsh words at one another, their tones were a little less callous.  Still, when Halgrum circled around to the other side of the table to meet the elf there, nobody could dismiss the tension there.  At any moment, it seemed, a war was fit to break out.

Though the well-dressed elf looked unarmed, his auburn tunic, etched with silver thread, seemed like it could hide a small blade here or there.  Wide eyes caught underneath a furrowed brow did nothing to stave off the thought of sinister intentions, either.

A moment later, both the elf and the dwarf cracked a smile, exchanging a handshake as though they had known each other for some time.

“I think you’ll find it hard for anyone to express any ill desires here under the shelter of our gracious host’s sanctuary,” the elf said, somehow aware of the worries of the ambassadors.  “You must be the friends that our mutual companion spoke of.  I haven’t been around humans much, but my guess is that you’re Michael, and you’re Rhianna?” he asked, pointing to each in turn.

“That’s right,” Rhianna said.  “And these fluffkins are Peanut, Zelda and Maisie.”

“It is my honor to be meeting you,” the elf said.  “I am the delegate from the Andal Forest.  My name is Beroras.”

“You two seem to know each other pretty well,” Michael said.  “But you don’t seem all that hostile to each other.  Forgive me for mentioning it, but weren’t you two and the other delegate supposed to be on kind of uneasy terms?”

Halgrum shrugged, but Beroras nodded at the assessment.

“It’s true that we’ve had a tumultuous few months,” the elf said.  “Indeed, it looked like the ivory white of the wasteland would be stained crimson thanks to our greed.  It wasn’t always like this, of course.  I’d run across Halgrum a few times in the past, and we always got along without much fuss.”

“We kept to our own, which is what makes good neighbors,” the dwarf teased.

“Ah, but great neighbors learn to see the value in one another,” a hearty voice called out.  Santa entered the room then from the same corridor that the rest had emerged from.  Even in that short while since they had seen him last, Michael and Rhianna realized that the jolly fellow had cleaned himself up somewhat, wearing a tighter-fitting red tunic that was inlaid with golden etchings.  “We are almost ready for the feast!”

“That must mean Rurnar is around,” Halgrum said.  “Though I can’t say I felt him bearing down on us like a crash of wooly rhinos.”

“That’s because his invitation specifically requested a soft and reserved approach,” Santa joked.  “You’ve seen all the decorations we have in place here.  I can’t have them toppling from their shelves.”

Santa passed the other delegates and his ambassadors and walked toward the towering double doors.  With a powerful shove, he thrust the doors open, and the rest of the attendants saw the tremendous final guest of the evening.

Wearing matted furs and donning a scraggly beard and unkempt hair, the giant, Rurnar, seemed a little underdressed for the occasion.  He took one step forward, and as soft as it was, everyone in attendance could feel the seismic shift beneath their feet.

A little whimper emerged from Maisie’s throat, and she ran behind Michael, pawing at him for protection.

Halgrum and Beroras acted with more courage, approaching the doorway and drawing up behind Santa.  They offered salutations of their own—a nod from the dwarf, and a bow from the elf—before Rurnar dipped his head beneath the doorway, just shy of being tall enough to accommodate his immense size.

“He must eat even more than Maisie,” Zelda whispered to Peanut.

“Ye don’t exactly look the part of a fancy delegate,” Halgrum teased then.  “We should have felt ye comin’, surely.  But I’m as surprised as I would be if I had a new nose growin’ on me face that we didn’t smell ye.”

The giant said nothing—just offering up a low grumble—but their host turned around and raised his hands to limit the smelly jokes.

“Now, now,” Santa said.  “It’s not exactly easy for a giant to find or make such fancy attire as you have brought with you,” he said to Halgrum and Beroras.  “I told Rurnar he didn’t need to worry about things.  I have a change of clothes for him right here.”

The rest of the attendees looked around, trying to spot where a new outfit might be, but they couldn’t find anything out of sorts.

Then, with a snap of Santa’s fingers, a bright light filled the lodge, reflecting off the large glass windows.  When the illumination faded, Rurnar had transformed.  His matted furs were replaced by a huge linen vest that was lined with fluffier, fancier fur.  His breeches now fully covered his legs and tucked into boots that looked like it would have taken ten cobblers a year to make.  Rurnar’s beard and hair were more deliberately placed then as well.  With large golden bands bundling the many strands together, he looked somewhat like Halgrum, though perhaps ten times as large.

“Thank you, Santa,” Rurnar said in his low, deep voice.  “Now I don’t have to worry about taking my annual bath.”

Beroras stepped forward then, tossing his hands out to the side.  “Umm, I don’t think that is any reason to—”

Santa turned and gestured to the elven delegate to not bother with that train of thought.  “We’re here to have a good time,” he joked.

Michael raised his mug then.  “I’ll toast to that.”

“Not everyone has their drinks,” Rhianna chided.  “You just wanted an excuse to get a refill.”

Her husband shrugged and nodded, unwilling to contest that assessment.

“It’ll take a bit of time to get the appropriate flagon for our mighty tall friend here,” Halgrum said, pointing to Rurnar.  “But the food looks ripe for eatin’.”

“Oh that?” Santa asked.  “Those are just the appetizers.”  He clapped his hands, the sound seeming to resound through the lodge.

“Christmas wizard,” Rhianna whispered to her husband.

As the echo of his hand clapping dissipated, the attendants heard another noise take its place.  Like the sound of soldiers marching, boots tapped against the floor, approaching the banquet area.

“It’s an invasion!” Zelda cried out.

She soon learned, along with the rest of the attendees, that more companions of Santa’s were tapped to lend a hand to the all-important event.

One by one, a parade of elves entered the room, led by Cecelia.  She sent a wink in Beroras’s direction, but kept to her route, leading the procession of helpers toward the table.  Twelve elven maidens and an elf male carried covered foods to the guests, the aromas of the meals filling the room.  In a concerted effort, the elves placed their dishes upon the table, and in unison pulled the metal coverings from atop them.  Turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, candied yams, beans and corn and carrots, heaping piles of bread, and so many more smatterings of food lay strewn across the long table, causing the delegates’ mouths to water.

The elves weren’t done though, it seemed.  For while the procession of elves brought food and further refreshments for the smaller of the delegates, a quartet of burly dwarves pushed a pair of carts into the room from a corner corridor of the lodge.  The first cart carried an entire barrel of ale, and the one following it held a stack of mammoth ribs—enough to sate any giant’s appetite.

“This is incredible,” Michael said.  “I feel like royalty or something.”

“That you should, my friends,” Santa said.  “You’ve helped save Christmas on three occasions, and now, you finally get your much deserved…”  His words trailed off, and he tilted his head to the side as he stared at Michael and Rhianna.  “Something seems to be missing.”  He bent over, looking underneath the banquet table then, where he saw the other three members of the DeAngelo family.  “Why, what are you doing under here?  You’re also our guests of honor!” he said.

With smiles on their faces, Michael and Rhianna lifted Maisie and Zelda onto seats at the table, watching their eyes go wide at the sight of the food.  Peanut, however, refused any assistance in the matter.

“Get your hands away from me, peasant,” she told Michael.  Once she arrived there, however, and saw a plate of fish not far from her spot at the table, she eased up, and even pressed her head against Michael’s hand.

“Thank you to my lovely friends for all their assistance this evening,” Santa said, addressing the wait staff and attendants.  “You’re all getting something extra nice in your stockings this year.”  Recognizing their cue, the elves flashed cherubic smiles at the guests and their host before taking their leave.  Santa turned and looked about to his eight other guests, bringing his hands together, before indicating toward the table.  “Please, my friends: take your seats and eat, drink and be merry.  We have a great deal to celebrate.”

One by one, the other ambassadors and diplomatic delegates took their seats at the table.  Rurnar recognized that no seat would possibly accommodate him, and rested on his rump, taking up a spot on the floor closest to the doors from which he had entered.

“Hi, how are you?” Rhianna asked, keenly aware that if he wanted to, he could probably eat her in far fewer bites than the ribs Santa prepared for him.

“I’m better now that I’m indoors,” Rurnar said in his rich timbre.  “The cold is harsh this time of year, and it’s not exactly easy to find shelter when you’re this big.”

“I rather like the cold,” Rhianna said.  “But we also have like twenty blankets at home to bundle ourselves up in.”

“And we’re always looking for more,” Michael said from the far end of the banquet table, clicking his tongue and sending a wink their way.

Rurnar let out a chuckle that nearly shook the room.  “I have a blanket that was made out of mammoth fur that could cover this whole building.  Of course, it’s at the bottom of a sinkhole now,” he grumbled, keeping his gaze on Halgrum until he turned to regard him.

“Are ye still on about that?” the dwarf asked.  “I told ye, a lot of people spend good money to get a basement, and ye got one for free.  We did hard labor for ye out of the goodness of our hearts.”

“Most folks get something like that while they aren’t in their home,” the giant insisted.  He looked back to Rhianna then, squaring his jaw.  “I know this doesn’t make sense, but I’m a bit afraid of heights.  Don’t you ever have those dreams where you’re falling and then you have a sudden stop?  Well imagine my surprise when that dream turned out to be real!”  He reached back and rubbed his rump.  “Truth be told, the dwarves were lucky they made it out of there alive.  There’s a tremendous crater where I landed.”

“Shaped like his rear-end, if the rumors are to be true,” Beroras said as he passed behind Rhianna and grabbed a nearby glass of wine.

Rurnar narrowed his large eyes.  “Those allegations are wildly exaggerated.”  He paused to consider things.  “Alright, there’s some truth to it.  Clan Lochmoor is still on retainer to repair my bed or make me a new one.”

“Well when we have a spare month, we’ll send half our craftsmen,” Halgrum said before tearing into a succulent turkey leg.  After bringing up his arm, ready to wipe his beard on his sleeve, he looked to Michael who sent a discerning glance his way, reminding him where he was.  With a little sigh escaping his lips and shaking the bristles in his beard, Halgrum reached for the nearest napkin.  “What was I saying ‘afore I was so rudely interrupted?  Ah, yes: the winters this far up north can be beautiful, surely.  But the summers?  They can be—”

“Oh, what do you know?” Beroras said from behind them.  “You spend all your time underground anyway.”

Halgrum turned to the teasing elf, who warmed himself by the fire.  “And yet, even though I do, I have this lovely bronze complexion, and ye look like a pasty white snowman.  How’d that happen?”

Michael took a moment to enjoy his surroundings while the delegates participated in another round of verbal sparring.  Snow started to fall outside, landing upon the glass ceiling above.  Far higher above, even the stars looked like wintry snowflakes.  Michael hummed to himself as he took another sip of his tasty beverage, before setting his sights on the magnificent tree to his side.  Many of the decorations were small wooden discs, with illustrated sigils of the cities and settlements of Tellest depicted upon them.  While he scrutinized the few that he didn’t know, the lights upon the tree seemed to flicker, and he tilted his head to the side to try and understand why.  Before his eyes then, they rose off the branches, and fluttered to new spots.

“Lumibugs,” the man cheerfully said to himself.

“If I might have everyone’s attention,” Santa said then.  He walked along the open area of the floor in front of the banquet table, preparing for his speech.  “I am so glad that you are all here with us tonight.  This is a very special time of year where togetherness is very meaningful.  Today also marks a very special occasion because our three delegates who represent the elves, dwarves and giants are signing a special agreement that reiterates years of friendship, alliance and cooperation.  And it’s all thanks to that tiny, sparkling jewel there,” he said, pointing to the ruby at the center of the banquet table.

The animals, eating the various fish, meats and cheeses, paused for a moment to look upon the gemstone, before resuming their feast.

Try as she might though, Maisie couldn’t wrench her gaze from the shimmering ruby.

“I was lucky enough to be called to help when I was,” Santa went on.  “You all claimed to have the right to it, citing how you were harmed by the others after its discovery.  But as much as it glitters in the light, at the end of any day, it would have just been a rock.  Together, though, you were able to make something magical.

“Rurnar, you found it—and I don’t think it would ever have been revealed if not for your hunt in the frozen wastes,” Santa insisted.  “Beroras, you and your people took something simple and imbued it with great magical power, utilizing a millennium of experience to turn it into something more than just a shiny stone.  And Halgrum, you worked together with some of your finest craftsmen to fashion a pendant powerful enough to house what became a fine artifact the likes of which this region hasn’t seen in quite some time.  And now, with the ruby fixed into a pendant, we’ve made not just a symbol of solidarity between all the people of the great north, but a tremendous tool that we can use to not only repair the damage that was done to your homes, but also the strain that has built between the giants, dwarves and elves.  As per the agreement, you’ll each alternate using the pendant, employing its enhancements of strength and speed to restore your forest, mine and cave.  Afterwards, we’ll…”

As Santa went on, the delegates and ambassadors watched in wide-eyed wonder.  Their host had tremendous poise, and a charismatic gift for planning, and everyone in attendance truly felt united.

But one little guest, who could not quite understand the words, couldn’t help but remain distracted.  Maisie’s gaze remained fixed on the jeweled centerpiece, and she licked her lips as she considered how it might taste.

“With our friendships renewed, I see a time of great prosperity in place for us over the next century or more,” Santa said.  “So, if I may, I would like to ask that you all raise a glass.  Here’s to an alliance that will result in great things for our region, for now and for long to come.”

The delegates raised their glasses, mugs and barrels, and Santa’s ambassadors did the same, toasting to the grand plan.

By the time those drinks reached the table once more, however, the attendants realized that there was a subtle change about the place.

“Ahem,” Peanut said.  “Humans?  We have a problem.”

For a moment, Michael and Rhianna looked about, not realizing what had occurred.  They spotted Zelda’s tucked back ears then, and watched as she lowered herself down toward the table.

“What’s wrong, Zelda?” Rhianna asked.  “Why do you look so sad all of a sudden?”

Michael arched his eyebrow as he considered her odd behavior.  “She never does anything wrong,” he speculated.  “But she always looks worried whenever…”  He looked at Maisie as his words trailed off and watched as she looked away in shame.

Maisie licked her lips again and moved her head forward as she burped.  It didn’t take long for her humans to realize what had transpired.

By then, the other delegates, along with Santa, noted the strange shift of mood in the room.

Rhianna remained quiet, but her widening eyes gave away her feelings of concern.

“What’s the matter dear?” Santa asked.  “Is everything al—” He gasped upon realizing what happened, and his face went red once he realized that the pendant was gone from the center of the table.

“You seem surprised,” Michael deadpanned.  “Aren’t you always watching?  Shouldn’t you have seen this coming from a mile away?”

“That’s…that’s one of the great embellishments of my character,” Santa claimed.  “What, do you think I never sleep?”

By then, the other attendants began to understand what occurred.

“If we don’t have the pendant, the mines might not last long enough to be properly reinforced,” Halgrum stated.

“Let alone my cave,” Rurnar added.

“And as hard as the soil is, it’s tremendously difficult to plant new trees,” Beroras stated.  “We were going to use the pendant to aid us in that endeavor.”

“Now, now,” Santa said, raising his hands to placate his guests.  “Let’s not worry ourselves too greatly here.  There is a simple solution to—”

“Where’s the elf that took me dagger?” Halgrum asked.  “A little incision right on her belly ought to get us right to the ruby.”

“Whoa,” Michael said, pushing out his chair and rising from his seat.  “Are you a board-certified veterinarian?  Because if you aren’t, you can forget poking at our puppy with any pointy objects!”

“We don’t need a knife,” Rurnar said.  “I’ll squeeze it out of her and get the ruby back in no time.”

Rhianna held out her hand and pushed it against the giant’s as he reached forward.  “Settle yourself down there, big guy.  Nobody squishes our dog but us.”

While everyone else grew louder and louder, the elf pacing behind the table offered up a quiet solution that nobody heard.

“You know,” Beroras said, “we could always just…wait.”

The stern voices filled the banquet hall, and Maisie, still unable to understand them, let her eyes dart from one place in the room to the next.  She looked to Michael, who rose from his seat and yelled at the dwarf.  She looked to Rhianna, who used her “angry” voice toward the giant.  She looked to Peanut, who shook her head at the young dog in disappointment.  And she looked at Zelda, who returned a look to her before saying some more words that she just couldn’t quite understand.

“You know you’re not supposed to eat stuff that isn’t given to you,” Zelda said.  “Now everyone is mad and worried about you!”

Against that chorus of louder and fiercer voices, Maisie hopped from her seat, and looked about for any sign of peace.  Her gaze settled upon the giant doors that Rurnar had entered from, and though she knew that they were closed, she thought perhaps she could scratch them open.

Maisie darted in that direction, and to her surprise, bolted faster than she ever had before.  Unable to stop before she reached the doors, she collided into them.  Rather than hurt herself though, she barreled right through them, tearing one of the doors off its hinges.  A cold gust of wind burst into the room, sending shivers down the spines of those in attendance.  Maisie had moved so fast that nobody quite realized what happened, but it didn’t take long for her family to realize she was there no longer.

“Maisie?” Michael called out.

“What just happened?” Rhianna asked.  “Where’s our puppy?”

“She just…took off,” Michael replied.  “She was here one second, and the next it was like a bolt of black-and-white lightning.”

The delegates rose up, and looked about as well, peering this way and that, and approaching the battered doors.

“She has the ruby pendant,” Santa explained.  “She has the power of the enchanted gemstone, so she can move as quick as the wind, and she’s as strong as Rurnar—if not more so.  Fret not, though.  We can see where she went, and—”

“I can see her trail!” Halgrum shouted.  “Little puppy footprints, leading out into the snow.  Beroras, you’re good at tracking, ain’t ye?”

“I’ve got keen eyes,” the elf confirmed.

“Then let’s get after her!”

Rurnar stepped out into the cold then as well, shaking the ground with his urgency.  “She’s moving far and fast,” he said, pointing to the distance between her paw prints.  “Come on then.  A higher vantage will give you a better chance at seeing her trail.”  He lowered his hands, letting the smaller delegates climb onto his palms before he lifted them up to his shoulders.

“Will you kindly…” Santa tried to say.  “…And they’re gone.  Well this is a right proper mess that I wasn’t expecting.”  He turned to his remaining guests, his ambassadors who had saved Christmas on more than one occasion, and realized they had one of their own that needed help that year.  “I’m surprised you aren’t out there as well, charging after them.”

“We don’t even know where to begin,” Michael said, his eyes wide with confusion, and his voice crawling with exasperation.

“We couldn’t possibly keep up with the others,” Rhianna said.  “But we can’t let them catch her Santa.  None of them are thinking clearly!”y6667

“Alright,” he replied, offering a reassuring nod.  “You all are calm and listening to reason, which is more than I can say for the others.  They can try to track her, but as frantic as she was, and in an unfamiliar region, I’m sure she’ll be darting all over the place before she finds somewhere that she feels safe.”

“But we don’t have any tracking skills,” Peanut declared.

“What?” Zelda piped up, clearly offended.  “I am always checking the perimeter for signs of any mischief.  My nose is a finely tuned machine!”

Peanut narrowed her eyes.  “I’ve seen them throw you food that you’ve missed before, and you couldn’t sniff it out even when it dropped right under you.”

“Luckily, I won’t be asking anyone to track anything,” Santa said.  “With a little Christmas magic, I think I’ll be able to help you find your missing pup before you know it.”

“And before the others find her,” Rhianna said.

“They’ll tire themselves out before long, and they’ll need to come back here to regain their strength,” Santa assured.  “Why don’t you four follow me?”

The DeAngelo family did as instructed, shadowing their host as he walked out into the cold of the snowy night.  They saw Maisie’s tracks as clearly as the delegates had, but they didn’t linger there, for Santa turned to the side, and walked alongside the lodge until they passed its far edge.  There, not so far away, was another building that looked just as warm and inviting as the lodge had.  Santa led the family there and pressed through the swinging door at the front of the building.

In the soft light of the building, they couldn’t see much, but Santa wore a smile as he turned to regard them.

“I’m not sure what’s in there, but you seem pretty happy,” Zelda said.

“I’ll be lending you three things to aid you this night,” Santa said.  “I think you’ll recognize this first one well enough.”  He turned toward the building once more, peering into the darkness.  A moment later, he brought his hand to his mouth, blowing a puff of air off of his hand as though he had plucked magic from the aether and scattered it into the building.  Sure enough, that magic took form, brightening the lanterns that were strewn about the building.  There, in the center of the main room, was a familiar-looking sleigh.

“Is that the one that we—” Michael began.

“The very same,” Santa expressed with his joyous tone.  “Only this year, I won’t be asking your little pup to pull it on her lonesome.  Perhaps one of my friends could help you in that regard.”

Santa placed two fingers in his mouth and let a high-pitched whistle pierce the air.  Almost at once, his guests heard the clip-clop of hooves, and they saw shadows moving from the pens in the building.

“Now, I can’t let you use all of my friends here,” Santa said.  “I need them strong and rested for Christmas Eve.  But I think you’ll find that even one of them will give you the strength to outpace Halgrum, Beroras and Rurnar.”

As he finished speaking, Santa’s friends emerged from deeper in the stable.  One by one, a dozen reindeer entered the room—including one with a shiny red nose.

Zelda gasped, and her eyes grew large.  She sprinted forward.

“Svetlana!” she cried out, running past the more famous deer, who grumbled and returned to his pen, just a little dejected.

When Zelda reached her reindeer friend from their previous adventure, Svetlana playfully tapped her hoof at the ground and reached down to nuzzle the pup.

“I see your little one has a strong memory,” Santa said.

“That night when we returned, she would not stop talking about her favorite reindeer,” Rhianna said.

“And even when the next day came, and she couldn’t talk, she still woofed at us like we could understand her,” Michael added.  “For weeks.”

Peanut clicked her tongue then.  “So, we’ve got a sleigh and someone to pull it.  What good will that do us?”

Rhianna flashed a half-hearted smile.  “Ignore the cynical kitty.  But…she does have a point.  Your other friends have an experienced tracker with them.  I have a hard time finding my glasses when they’re on my face.”

“Fret not,” Santa said.  “I think the last item I’ll lend you will be the one that helps you most.  Follow me.”

Michael and Rhianna did as they were told, chasing after their host as he moved toward a desk in the corner of the room.  Peanut remained in front of the sleigh, taking the opportunity to groom herself, while Zelda continued speaking with Svetlana the reindeer, regaling her with all her tales and exploits over the previous two years.

“Here we are,” Santa said, pointing toward a mirror that hung from the wall above the desk.

“Ah yes,” Michael said.  “The power of self-confidence.”

Santa snorted and laughed at that notion, steadying himself on the desk before shaking his head.  “I’m sure you’ll have no need of that.  But what you might benefit from is a little magic.  Rhianna, no doubt you’ve been reading that tome you were gifted a couple years back?”

“Front and back,” she replied.  As she considered his words, her eyes widened in anticipation.  “You’re going to use ‘old world’ magic, aren’t you?”

“Do you want to see how I always see the things I need to?” Santa asked.

His guests couldn’t keep their heads from nodding, though they were shocked still when they saw as Santa lifted his hand and pointed toward the mirror again.  His skin began to glow, and before either of them could lift their hands to stifle the illumination, the whole room was awash in light, stealing away their vision.

A moment later, the light faded, and their vision slowly returned to them.  Santa stood there, a proud smile on his face.  Together, Michael and Rhianna looked to the mirror, realizing that it no longer offered up a reflection.  Instead, it showed their lost dog—Maisie charged through the falling snow, toward the massive forest before her.

“Is this right now?” Michael asked.

“You think I run my magic mirrors on a delay?” Santa asked.  “This is live.”

“A real-life Santa tracker,” Rhianna muttered.

“Only it’s tracking Maisie,” Michael added.  “Look at how fast she’s moving.”

“I think it’s about time we get you moving,” Santa said.  “Svetlana will carry you quickly, but the others have a head start on you.  There’s no way they’ll catch your little one, but they could scare her into running farther away or into a dangerous situation.”  He plucked the mirror off the wall and handed it to Rhianna.  “You’ll need this, I’m sure.  Just remember to keep it safe.”

“Because if it falls into the wrong hands, it could lead to disaster for Christmas?” she wondered.

“No,” Santa said.  “The magic I’ve enacted will only work for a day, and then it will revert to just another mundane mirror.  But if it breaks, it’s still seven years bad luck!”

“And we won’t be able to find Maisie,” Michael added.  “Come on everyone.  Before the others get too far ahead of us.”

While Michael, Rhianna and Peanut climbed into the familiar sleigh, Zelda hopped upon the ground by Svetlana.  Santa set everything in place, gently placing the bit inside the reindeer’s mouth before urging the chihuahua into place alongside her family.

“I’m sure that I’ll be seeing you all soon,” he said.  “When you get back, we can resume our feast in full—I’ll keep things warm until then.”

“Thank you, Santa,” Michael said.

“It’s just another adventure,” he said with a laugh before lightly tapping Svetlana on the rump to get her started.

The reindeer pulled the sleigh out into the snow, and immediately set to work, building up speed and tugging the DeAngelo family along.

“You go Svetlana!” Zelda cried, peering over the lip of the sleigh.

Rhianna held up the mirror, squinting past the falling snow as it whipped by them.  She caught Michael looking at him and clicked her tongue.  “What?  You know how I can’t look down at my phone in the car without getting sick?  This is practically the same thing.”

He just snickered, and clung tight to the reins.  “How’s she doing?” he asked a few moments later, peering at the mirror.

“She’s coming up on the forest,” Rhianna said.  “When she gets in there, it might be too dark to see anything, so we have to move fast.”

“Faster then them, anyway,” they heard.  Michael and Rhianna looked between them then, to see that Peanut had joined them at the front of the sleigh, hanging over curling front of the vehicle.  “Look,” she said, pointing to the snowy horizon.

Each of them—and Zelda, too—followed that gesture, and noticed the towering giant who trudged across the icy plains.  From that distance, they could only just notice the two figures on his shoulders.

“Alright, Svetlana,” Michael said, giving the reins a light snap, “let’s beat them to the forest, okay?”

With a horse-like snort, the reindeer dipped her head and pushed ahead.  Rhianna grabbed Michael’s arm when she lurched back from the extra boost of speed.  She buried her head against his shoulder a moment later, and Michael lifted his arm to combat the rush of snow that blew forth.  Peanut dropped to the floor of the sleigh, grabbing Zelda and pulling her back when she drew too close to the edge.

“You do care!” Zelda exclaimed.

The cat narrowed her eyes.  “If you fall out, we have to stop and come back for you.  It’s too cold out here to stay any longer than we have to.”

Zelda stared for a moment, digesting the allegedly callous reason.  She subsequently ignored it and began bobbing her head from side to side.  “You like me, you like me!”

“Stop that,” Peanut groaned.

That request was granted then, for Svetlana carried them along fast and true.  As the sleigh sped on, Rurnar’s large feet showed alongside them, and the cat and the dog looked up to see the elf and the dwarf on his shoulders.

Michael handed the reins to his wife then and cupped his hands around his mouth.  “We’re going to go on ahead guys,” he yelled.  “But don’t worry, we’ll make sure we get the pendant—safely—and we’ll meet you back at the lodge!”

That explanation seemed to do less to placate the delegates, as Rurnar took longer strides and increased his pace then.

“They think we’re going to just grab our super dog and run off,” Rhianna said.

“That pendant had her burst through a giant pair of doors,” Michael replied.  “We don’t need to give Maisie any more powers than she already has.  Our house will be knocked down to the studs.”

“I’m more worried about how quick she is,” Rhianna said, her voice quavering just a bit.  “If only she could understand us.  She doesn’t like hearing us yell, and it’s all just noise to her.”

“It’s okay.  I’m sure she’s nervous out there all alone,” Michael insisted.  “She’s going to be overjoyed to see us.”

Zelda drew close to Peanut and tilted her head upward, offering up a thoughtful look.  “If Maisie gets excited and jumps up on Mommy or Daddy, will they squeak like one of our toys?”

“It’s more likely they’ll be tattered like the rug, or the couch, or the—”

“Not helping, you guys!” Michael cried.

“We have to hurry,” Rhianna pressed.  “She’s in the forest, and it’s so dark I can’t see where she is anymore.”

“I don’t think that will be a problem,” Michael replied.  “Look,” he said, pointing with his chin.

As they barreled toward the Andal Forest, they could see the battered trees that Rurnar had knocked down during the skirmish between the elves and the dwarves.  Those felled trees had deep scratches in the bark, and the DeAngelo family knew that they were on the right track.

“Stress scratches!” Rhianna claimed.

“She definitely went this way,” Michael said.

They plunged into the forest, avoiding the uneven terrain as they went.  Svetlana was forced to slow as they weaved between standing and fallen trees alike, but she still moved as fast as she could.  When the canopy above grew dense, the husband and wife looked at one another in confusion.  The starlit sky seemed to pour between the boughs, light enough to illuminate the path forward.  They couldn’t understand why it seemed so dark around their lost pup when they scrutinized the mirror.

“That can’t be just the forest, right?” Rhianna wondered.  “We can see this clearly; why is it we can’t see her just as well?”

Michael urged Svetlana around some snow-covered rocks before peering at the mirror.  “You’re right,” he said.  “That’s way too dark.”

“We better find her soon,” they heard between them again.  Looking down, Peanut was clinging onto the front lip of the sleigh.  “Our trail is starting to disappear.”

Sure enough, the fallen trees were far sparser then, and the scratches that indicated Maisie’s path of escape seemed to fade from view.

“Even the mirror isn’t helping us enough,” Rhianna said.

“Wait a minute,” Zelda said.  She sniffed the air, tilting her head to the side.  “Svetlana, slow down!”

The reindeer instantly slowed her pace, adhering to her friend’s request.  No sooner did she slacken to a trot, and Zelda bolted from the sleigh.

“What are you doing, puppy?” Michael said, hopping from his spot and shuffling after her.

“I’d recognize that stink anywhere!” she cried.

Unable to wait there, Michael charged after her, hoping not to lose another dog in the process of Zelda following her nose.

Rhianna scooped Peanut up then as well and stepped out into the snow.  She turned to regard their reindeer guide, stroking her back a few times.  “We’ll be right back Svetlana, okay?  Maybe hide so that the others don’t see you while we’re looking for Maisie.”

The reindeer grunted, but slowly tugged the sleigh further into the woods, away from the small clearing there.

Peanut cleared her throat, then, gathering up Rhianna’s attention.  “Don’t even think about adopting another pet,” she said.

“We would need a much bigger litter box,” Rhianna considered.  “Let’s make sure we have our current family safe and sound before we think about that though, shall we?”

She trudged through the snow then, hoping that she would be able to find her way through the trees before long.  Some barking not far away helped her narrow her direction, and a few moments later, she saw rocky, mountainous terrain before her.

“This way,” Michael called out when he saw his wife wandering about the area, juggling the mirror and the cat between both her hands.

She looked over and saw her husband in his striking new outfit, standing out against the backdrop of white and grey.  He stood before a gap in the rocks, which seemed to lead into a dark and twisting tunnel.

“Zelda went inside,” he said.  “She swears that she can smell Maisie, but I can’t see past my own hand in there it’s so dark.”

“We didn’t think to bring a torch,” Rhianna said as she drew close.  “Do you think we need to go back to the lodge and get one?”

As she spoke, the way forward seemed to brighten, and they saw Zelda at the end of that illuminated path.

“Thanks!” she said.  “I’m not scared of the dark or anything, but…”

Michael and Rhianna looked at one another, trying to understand how they were able to drive away the darkness.  Peanut kicked away from Rhianna’s hold then, landing upon the cold stone floor of the tunnel entrance.  Left with just the mirror in her hand, Rhianna realized why there was a sudden glow around them.  The looking glass grew bright, giving off an otherworldly light that brightened the cave entrance.

Awash in that light, Peanut strode into the cave, passing the pup who still sniffed at the air around her.

“Hey…don’t run off,” Michael pressed.

“I’m not running anywhere,” the cat scoffed then.  “While that one blindly follows her nose, you missed an obvious sign that the one that bites and chews and scratches everything has been here.”  She looked at the side of the cavern wall, and sure enough, some deep gouges were there, thanks to the enhanced strength lent to the pup by the enchanted pendant.

“Well that’ll make things easier than looking at the darkness in the mirror,” Rhianna considered.

“Give me a minute,” Zelda said, still sniffing the area.  “I’ll find her.”

As Michael and Rhianna walked on, following Peanut with the powerful equivalent to a modern floodlight, Michael tapped Zelda on the side, gathering up her attention.  “Come on,” he said.  “We figured out where we’re going.”

“I helped!” she cried as she fell into step behind the rest of her family.

“You sure did, little puppers!” Rhianna commended.  She handed Michael the mirror then, before reaching down and plucking Zelda off the floor and snuggling her close to her chest.

With the light source in his hands, Michael looked about the area, realizing where they were.

“Do you know what this is?” he asked.  When he didn’t get a response from anyone, he pointed to the joists along the side of the walls, and to the runic inscriptions that they passed here and there.  “These are the tunnels that the dwarves built—there must be a mine down here.”

“Or this is the tunnel they were trying to carve out to find more of those rubies under the wasteland,” Rhianna speculated.

“Ooh, good thinking,” Zelda joined in.

Michael chortled at her little addition, but his face grew stern soon after.  “If that’s true, Halgrum is going to know these passageways like the back of his hand.  We need to move a little faster.”

A loud grumble echoed in the cavern, and when they looked down, they saw Peanut displaying a sourpuss.  “All her scratches are way down here, and she moves so fast they’re few and far apart.  I’m doing the best I can.”

“You’re doing great, Peanut,” Rhianna assured.  “Let’s just keep moving and do our best.  Between your eyes, Zelda’s nose, and our magic mirror, we’ll find Maisie in no time!”

They traveled on for some time, but with every new intersection in the mines, they had to stop and study the walls or sniff the air for any stray scent of their lost pup.  They went on and couldn’t ignore the chill that crept into the air, all of them beginning to shiver in the cold, damp place.

“I’m less worried that the others are going to find her before us, and more worried that she’ll freeze before anyone can!” Rhianna said.

“It’s okay,” Michael promised.  “I’m sure we’re close.”

As he spoke though, the cold became almost too much to bear.  They walked forth into a much larger chamber, and the ceiling seemed to stretch far too high.  Far above, moonlight shone into the cavern, offering the faintest light to the mine shaft below.  Illuminated as it was, the room could be seen for what it was.  Debris was scattered here and there, with large planks of wood smashed to bits, and piles of rocks and stone spread throughout the chamber.  A large blanket lay against the wall on the far side of the room—much bigger than one a human would use.

“It’s a dead end,” Peanut said.  “But…how?”

Zelda still sniffed at the air, but with all the dust that had built up in the dilapidated room, she couldn’t stifle a sneeze.  “Bleh!” she said.  “I can hardly sniff anything out anymore.  But I know she’s nearby.  She has to be!”

Without any other means to carry on the search, Michael turned the mirror over careful not to blind himself with its illumination.  As he stared into the looking glass, the light it offered seemed to settle, and his wife drew nearer to get a glimpse as well.

“I don’t understand,” Michael said.  “It’s still just showing nothing.”

Rhianna narrowed her eyes, peering into it still.  “Say something again,” she instructed.

“Did you just tell me to speak like one of the dogs?” he asked.

“Look,” Rhianna said, pointing to the mirror.

He did as he was told then, taking a closer look at the enchanted device.  Sure enough, it wasn’t as empty as he first thought.  The mirror displayed the tremendous blanket, and the sweeping motion that moved a few layers of it.  It grew brighter then, as if indicating that it wanted to be used to brighten the room once more.  Michael was happy to oblige, and as he turned it toward the discarded blanket, it was like a spotlight shone on whatever lay underneath it.

“Is that…?” he asked.

“I think it is,” Rhianna said in a much more cheerful tone.

Every time either of them spoke, the back-and-forth motion beneath the blanket grew faster.  Zelda took note of it then as well and began digging at the heavy covers.  She soon realized the futility of that, for the blanket was simply too substantial to move any which way.

“A little help here!” she cried.

Michael placed the mirror down against the wall behind them, positioning it in such a way that it would offer its light up to them.  And he made his way to the blanket, Rhianna followed alongside him.  Together, they gathered up armfuls of the covering, shifting it this way and that.  Zelda helped where she could, her anticipation growing with every swat of her paws.  Behind them, Peanut took a breather, and groomed herself.

“Keep up the good work,” the cat said.

Together the DeAngelo family moved layer after layer, until they could see a wagging tail beneath the piled-up blanket.

“Whacha doin’ in there, Maisie?” Rhianna asked.

Zelda let a little growl pass through her lips, that sounded somewhat like a disappointed grumble, and somewhat like a relieved huzzah.

That noise did little to ease Maisie’s tension though.  She began noticeably shivering, and with the strength of the pendant flowing through her, everyone there could feel the cave begin to shudder.

Michael dropped to the ground and sat next to the nervous pup, petting her back.  “We were so worried about you Maisie.  You scared us so much.”

Rhianna joined him there, and gently pulled Maisie away from her little burrow.  “I thought we talked about this,” she said in a teasing, playful voice.  “You’ve got to stop eating things.  It’s one thing to chew up the stuff in our house, but it’s another thing entirely to devour a symbol of peace that’s meant to unite three clans.”

“And you can’t just run away!” Zelda added. “You’ve got to take your lumps when you do something wrong.”

“Or just stop doing bad things,” Peanut said.  When Michael and Rhianna sent her disapproving looks, she sat up straighter.  “What?”

Maisie bowed her head in shame, her ears drooping down.  She snuck glimpses at her family, who all looked at her and spoke in a language she couldn’t understand.  The little dog licked her lips nervously, but nuzzled alternately between Michael, Rhianna and Zelda.

As everyone pet her and tried to ease her nerves, a small burp escaped her mouth.

“Umm,” Rhianna said.

Maisie’s head kept moving back and forth then, and she started making hacking sounds.  Michael slid out of the way as the pendant—covered in ick—landed on the floor of the cave.

“No, no, no,” Rhianna said as she sprang off the ground.  “This is the worst thing that’s ever happened.”

Michael couldn’t hold back a chortle, but even he blanched a bit as he picked up the pendant and wiped it on a corner of the giant blanket.  “Remind me to wash my hands when we get back to the lodge.

“Ew!” Rhianna groaned.

“Let’s say we get out of here,” Michael said.  “Why don’t you take the mirror since I’m sure you don’t want to carry this.”  He let the pendant dangle from his hand as he rose up, but as he looked at it, he saw the black and white pup still huddled up on the ground.  With a happy sigh, he stuffed the pendant in his pocket instead, and reached down to pluck Maisie off the ground.  “Actually, let’s hold onto something more important.”

“Yeah!” Zelda cheered.  “Squish her so tight she can’t possibly run off.”

Together, the five of them began their departure through the cavern.  Michael leaned down and kissed Maisie on the head, and knowing that she was safe once again, she nuzzled against his chest.

Almost as soon as cold dissipated, it returned, for they began nearing the entrance.  Not one member of the family could tell which one of them yipped as they exited the stone tunnels and saw the three delegates from the feast.

“It seems ye found the wee pipsqueak,” Halgrum said.

“You saved us the trouble, it seems,” Beroras added.

Before the giant could talk, the woman below looked up at him with more confidence than she thought she could muster.  “There’ll be no squishing here,” Rhianna said then, taking a step forward and placing her fists on her hips.

“No need for it, anyway,” Michael said.  He balanced Maisie on one arm even as she cowered away a bit, avoiding any eye contact with the noisy trio of delegates.  With his free hand, he reached into his pocket and retrieved the magic pendant.  “She was all too happy to give it up.”

Halgrum clenched his jaw and leaned back, narrowing his eyes.  “Lad, which side of that mutt did the thing come out?”

“It came out the same way it went in,” Michael revealed.  He pulled his eyebrows down into a slight frown as he looked up at Rurnar.  “I’m sorry to say though that we…we kind of used your blanket to wipe it off.”

Rhianna took another step forward and clapped her hands.  “But enough about all that.  We must get back to Santa’s lodge.  There’s a feast to be had, and he’s sure to be worried.”

“No harm, no foul, right guys?” Zelda asked.  “Except for the turkey back at the lodge.”

Peanut smacked her face with her paw.

Beroras sighed and folded his arms over his chest.  “We came here to get the pendant, and it seems you’ve already retrieved it.  It seems we traveled through the cold with the utmost haste for no reason.  And so, we begin the long trek back.”

“Well, wait a minute,” Michael said.  “I think I have a way to get us back to the lodge in no time at all.”  He turned to Zelda and pat her on the head.  “Will you do us the honor of calling over your friend?”

Her mouth curled up into a big smile while she panted in excitement.  She turned to the trees and tilted back her head.  “Svetlana!” she cried.

A moment later, the reindeer burst through the dense forest, still tugging along the sleigh.

“You think she can carry the lot of us?” Beroras asked.  “Even when Santa travels by himself, he has to line up nine reindeer.”

“Aye, but he has all them toys,” Halgrum reminded.  “Of course, they barely fit…and Rurnar is a bit bigger than that sack of goodies.”

“All he’s got to do is hold on,” Michael said with a chuckle.  He approached the furry reindeer, nudging his wife along as he went.  “Can you give me a hand?  I can’t unclasp the pendant while I’ve got this noodge here,” he said, smooching the pooch again for good measure.

Rhianna was happy to oblige, and she set the pendant in place around Svetlana’s neck.  “Now don’t get going until we’re all ready,” she told the reindeer.  “You’re going to be like a shooting star flying across the sky!”

Svetlana stamped her foot at the joke, leaving a somewhat bigger dent in the packed snow than she intended.  Rhianna just laughed and waved on her family.  She waved more enthusiastically when she tried to summon the three delegates as well.

“Alright everyone,” Michael said as they crammed into the sleigh.  “This wasn’t as disastrous as we thought—merely a hiccup and a bit of an adventure.”

“With a little bit of magic, I’m sure the feast they prepared will be just as warm as it was before we left,” Rhianna said.  “Food we can eat,” she reminded, playfully poking at Maisie.

“Alright, enough of the pleasantries,” Halgrum said.  “I’ve got a rumbling in my belly that feels like Rurnar’s taking a jog on it.”

“We’ll be back there in no time,” Michael assured.  “Now, Svetlana! Just Svetlana! Now dash away!” he cried with a light snap of the reins.  The reindeer took off at once, bolting into the snowy night.

*          *          *

Dusted free of the snow that covered them all, the delegates and Santa’s special guests were pleased to be inside the lodge once more.  Svetlana had joined them inside the building, shaking off remnants of the slush she’d kicked into the air along their return trip.  She’d earned her respite, and she happily crunched on a carrot that Cecelia held up for her, the maiden giggling with every twitch of the reindeer’s whiskers.

At the banquet table, Halgrum regaled Michael with one of the exciting tales of heroism from his clan—no doubt exaggerating with great details some aspects of the story.  At the same time though, he chomped down on a plump turkey leg, the juices dribbling down his face and getting caught up in his beard.  Every now and again, Michael could hear a word or two between his chewing—a “dragon” here and a “snow monster” there.  He nodded and smiled to the dwarf, raising his mug whenever he heard a particularly funny portion of the tale.  But his focus always drifted to the center of the table where the three fur babies chomped down on their treats.

Likewise, on the other side of the table, Rhianna half-heartedly watched while Beroras and Rurnar good-humoredly bickered back and forth, arguing about who was more integral to tracking down the runaway pup.

“If it wasn’t for the height advantage that I gave you, you would have never seen her wee tracks,” Rurnar boomed, taking a gulp from his barrel as if he had proved his point.

“I would have found them eventually,” Beroras said.  “It might have taken a little extra poking around, but I’d have found them.  Unlike you, who were too far away to see those tiny footprints.”

Rhianna laughed at their ongoing feud, and she took the moment to look to the fluffiest guests at the table.

Maisie’s eyes grew wide as she licked the plate beneath her.  Some kind of carved meat had sat there, but it was all but gone in those few moments afterward.

“Ooh try these ones,” Zelda excitedly said as she nudged another plate closer toward her sister.  “They’re orange like pumpkin, but they’re…I don’t know…starchy like potatoes.  But they’re kind of sweet too!”

Peanut stopped eating her fish just long enough to lift her gaze toward the chihuahua on the opposite side of Maisie.  She sent her an unamused stare that went unnoticed.  Unperturbed, Peanut set back to work, sinking her teeth into the large fish filet that was stretched out before her.

Everyone enjoyed that merriment, but they grew even more excited when their jolly host strolled back into the room, dangling a jeweled pendant from one of his white, unblemished gloves.

The delegates and human ambassadors broke out into applause, happy to have the ruby back in the room, cleaned up and sparkling.

“Now let’s try this again,” Santa said, though he kept the pendant close at hand, rather than placing it on the table.  “This ruby is a symbol,” he said.  “At one point, it was a symbol of disagreement, of competitiveness, and yes, even of greed.  But at some point, over the last few weeks, and even earlier today, it became a symbol of collaboration and solidarity.  It united your three clans, and you came together to bring it back, so that you could make things right about your homes.

“Of course, it didn’t quite work out the way we had hoped, because this little one was a lot quicker and stronger than anyone could have predicted,” he went on, smiling as he towered over the table and looked at Maisie.

Even though his tone was jubilant, and he was as happy as he could be, the little dog lowered her head and looked up with guilty eyes.  A little whimper escaped her lips, and she looked to Michael and Rhianna for some assurance.

None of the delegates noticed, but his human ambassadors smiled when they saw Santa snap his fingers, and they detected the presence of new magic in the feasting hall.

“What was that?” Santa asked.  “I couldn’t quite understand you before.”

Maisie gulped, and looked back at him.  “I said, ‘I’m sorry I ate the shiny thing’.”  As her words lingered in the air, it took a moment for her to realize she had spoken words that sounded different to her.  Her eyes crossed as she looked to the end of her nose.

Santa let fly a belly laugh then, winking at Rhianna and tossing a smile at Michael.

“Does this mean she’ll be able to talk every year like the others?” Rhianna asked.

“It wouldn’t seem fair otherwise,” he said.  “Now go on, I’m sure there’s much to talk about!”

Maisie still looked at her nose in confusion while Zelda squirmed onto the table and in front of her little sister.

“Maisie, you can talk!” she exclaimed.  “And more important: you can listen.  So, there’s a lot that I must teach you, and only so much time to do it.  Lesson one: How to fetch.  The key instruction here is that you have to bring the ball back.”

“That’s less important than recognizing where you’re walking,” Peanut pushed.  “Why do you always have to walk around like everyone’s black and white shadow?  One of these days I’m going to stop walking and people are going to have a hard time figuring out where I end, and you begin!”

“We can’t lose another ball, Peanut!” Zelda insisted.  “I won’t have it!”

“The last thing we need is for Little Miss Stalker to sweep the legs of one of our humans,” Peanut countered.

“Thank you, Peanut,” Michael exuberantly said.

“If they can’t get the food, we’ll starve.”

Michael’s smile faded then, and he stared at his cat with narrowed eyes.

As the feline’s latest words reached her, Maisie’s eyes grew wide with excitement.  “Food!  That’s the most important thing!”

Everyone laughed at that thought, for they all knew how dangerous her appetite could be.  With her newfound voice, Maisie was eager to talk all about her exploits over the past year.  She told taller tales than Halgrum and spoke more than Beroras and Rurnar combined.  And despite all that, her sisters were happy to talk to her.

One by one, the other delegates excitedly rose to talk to the new, talkative pup.

Beroras ran his hand down her back, and Maisie wore a contented smile.

“I’m sorry I chewed on all those trees,” she said.

The elf laughed.  “It could have been much worse!  With your powers, you could have knocked a whole lot of them over.  Truth be told, we elves always like to use a fallen tree to its fullest, and I’m glad you used them to ease your nerves.”

Halgrum was there a moment later, patting her on her head.

“I’m sorry I scratched up all those stone walls,” she apologized.

A deep chortle escaped the dwarf’s lips, as did a burp he tried to stifle with his hand.  “It’s okay there, little doggie.  It’s just a mine.  There’s no need for it to be fancy.”

When the giant approached, and towered over the table, Maisie couldn’t ignore her feelings of unease.  She gulped and looked up at him, his face so far away from her.

“I’m really, really sorry I hid in your bed, sir,” she squeaked.

Rurnar’s laugh shook the banquet room, and he shook his head as he dismissed any of her worries.  “It’s alright, very little one,” he said.  “I’m glad you found a place to sleep and settle yourself.”  He reached down and scratched her head with the very tip of his pinky, making sure to be extra careful with the small pup.

With apologies and forgiveness out in the open, the delegates and the ambassadors returned to the festivities in full.  Santa regaled his guests with stories of his own past exploits, happy to have a year where most everything was in place.  Surrounded by warmth and merriment, everyone celebrated long into the night.

*          *          *

When the DeAngelo family returned to their world, none of them could pretend in the slightest that they weren’t as exhausted as they could remember.  Michael stumbled on ahead, opening the door for everyone else.  Peanut and Zelda were eager to get inside out of the snow, and they bolted past the curtain.  Rhianna cuddled their other sleepy dog against her neck.

Maisie, with her newfound voice, had spent nearly all the rest of their time at Santa’s lodge speaking.  Once she realized who Santa was, and what he represented, she rattled off a list of things she wanted (which, though they started as small and reasonable requests, quickly became a bit greedier and more ridiculous as she went).  Santa listened to her for longer than everyone else believed he would, and all his other guests laughed whenever the pup took a deep breath to continue her demands.  It was his turn to laugh—quietly—when the dog blinked and yawned in the middle of her thoughts.  Within a few seconds, she stretched out on the floor, quietly continuing her speech.  She was blissfully unaware when Santa stepped away and prepared to say his farewells to the rest of her family.

When she was startled awake by the gasp of her older sister, she resumed her list without missing a beat.

“…and maybe another bag of pork chomps—just in case the other ones get lonely.  And then of course we need to get Zelda a bag of her own, so that I have something to steal, and…”  Maisie blinked her eyes and looked around, realizing that they were no longer at the lodge.  “Santa?”

“Don’t you worry,” Rhianna chuckled, kissing the pup on the side of the head.  “He knows exactly what you need, and you’ll get it on Christmas day.”

“But look!” Zelda shouted.  “We’ve already got some presents under the tree!”

Sure enough, several wrapped presents were there, with a huge burlap sack lying against the wall there as well.

“What did he get us this year?” Michael asked.  “Another couch?  That thing is huge.”

“Whatever he got us, I hope this year there’s no more woofing coming any of these boxes.  Or worse: meowing!”

Peanut sent a salty look toward Zelda, squaring her jaw and narrowing her eyes.  She looked up at Michael and Rhianna with a sneer.  “I, too, am done collecting little sisters for the moment.”

“What do you say?” Rhianna asked.  “Should we get to it?”

“Those presents aren’t going to open themselves!” Michael said.

Rhianna set Maisie down, and she curled up next to the other members of her family, who plucked the presents out from under the tree, and set to unwrapping them.

Michael grabbed his first and looked at the tag on top of it.  “Hey, this one is from Halgrum.”  He pulled the wrapping paper apart and removed the lid from the box within.  “A new pair of slippers!” he said.  “And look: there’s a note inside.”  He took it out and laughed before he showed it to his wife.  “Since Maisie ate my old ones,” he explained.  He leaned over and smooched the pooch before he kicked off his boots in excitement to try on his new slippers.

Zelda, too, couldn’t contain her excitement, and set to work chewing and clawing at the box with her name on it.  With a box that was bigger than her before her, she nudged the top off it, and was startled for just a moment when a card sprang up out of it, in the shape of a reindeer’s head.

“It’s from Svetlana!” she giggled, and she sprang back up to see what else was in the box.  She gasped with delight and couldn’t keep her tail from wagging.  “It’s a whole bunch of toys!” she cried, taking hold of one and plucking it out from the pile.

“No doubt because Maisie ate all your ones,” Michael said, teasing the other puppy, who started to shake off her fatigue in the presence of all the excitement.

“Ooh…look what Beroras sent me,” Rhianna said.  She pulled two beautiful midnight blue-colored velvet pillows from a box of her own.  “Because Maisie ate our old ones!”

Peanut swatted at the gift box with her name tagged upon it.  “Open this one for me, peasants,” she demanded.

Michael chortled at that stern request, but he was happy to oblige.  When he picked it up though, he could hear rattling from within.

“That’s strange,” Rhianna said.  “You know what, there is a bit of a theme with the rest of these.  And Maisie really didn’t eat anything of Peanut’s.  I wonder what it could be?”

Michael shrugged.  “It looks like this one is from Cecelia.”  He ripped the wrapping paper off the small box, and opened it up, noticing the small tube within.  When he reached inside though, he felt a rolled-up piece of parchment first and pulled that out.  “For Peanut,” he read.  “We noticed you’re losing a bit of weight, and this will make you feel better.  Take two a day.  Forever.  Love, Cecelia.”

“What?” Peanut cried.

While she dealt with that unpleasant news, Michael grabbed hold of her and set her down in his lap, squishing her in his arms.

“There’s only one present left,” Rhianna said.  “You know what that means, right?” she asked Maisie.

“Is that one…for me?” the youngest fluff asked.

“Come on, open it, open it!” Zelda cheered.  She ran behind the tree and started tugging at the mound of burlap, barely able to move it at all.  “I could really use that pendant about now!”

“I’ll help,” Michael said, handing the kitty to his wife.  He rose up and moved to the burlap sack, tugging with all his might to move it toward the center of the room.  In exhaustion, he collapsed once he arrived there.

“Whatever it is, it must be really nice!” Zelda said.

Rhianna leaned over, then, noticing the tag sticking off it.  “This one is from Rurnar, the giant,” she said.  “And there’s another little scribble on the bottom.  ‘It’s had its annual wash. -Santa’.”  She arched her eyebrows in curiosity and pulled at the twine ribbon that cinched the sack shut.  With a magical puff of smoke, all that sack disappeared, leaving the gift behind.

Maisie’s eyes grew wide as she recognized the blanket she cuddled beneath back at the North Pole.  She sprang on top of it, settling into the comfortable folds of it.  That time though, she looked around eagerly at the rest of her family.  “Come on!” she said.  “There’s plenty of room for everyone!”

Nobody could resist that invitation, nor the comfort of that massive blanket.  One by one, all the rest of her family joined her there in the warmth and coziness.

Even Peanut.

Together, the DeAngelo family cuddled next to the tree, watching the snow fall outside their window, wondering what joys the next year would bring.

Happy Holidays everyone!

If you enjoyed this story, check out the DeAngelo Christmas Archive.

The post Christmas Feast appeared first on Tellest.