Ever Again or How I Became Santa Claus

EVER AGAIN or HOW I BECAME SANTA CLAUS

by JOHN EDER

with illustrations by THE AUTHOR

Red & White & Black & Blue

chapter 1

Red & White & Black & Blue

C

hristmas Eve makes her stomach hurt. She’s glad she used her

employee discount to get Tommy the toy he wanted before it sold out. But now she’s broke again, and not even a hint of a Christmas bonus. The cold wind cuts right through as she trudges down the empty, frozen street. She’s just off work. The store was open late to let people shop till the absolute last minute. Sigh. She’ll be glad when it’s over, Christmas.

Because Christmas hurts, these days. She misses Tommy’s Dad, gone seven years now, gone forever in the war. He never even met Tommy. Tommy looks like him, especially the eyes. Jackie’s gone from one dead-end job to another after quitting school to support Tommy and herself: waitress, temp, now the big box store for the last two years. She’s got a skullcap on with a Lions logo, though she

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Ever Again

doesn’t even like football much. Somebody left it in the break room, and it’s warm. There’s a puffy parka over the red vest the store makes her wear, and cheap boots that don’t keep the cold out at all. She totally forgot her gloves. She’s hurrying to her beat-up car, back to Mom’s house.

Jackie’s grateful. She’s grateful the car starts, that Mom let her move back in, that Tommy’s healthy, that she even has a job. But she Christmas-wishes they could all leave the city, move somewhere nicer. Maybe she could go back to school, maybe get a better patch of road in front of them. That’s when she sees what’s happening in the alley. Two thugs yelling at a frightened woman. One of them’s waving a knife around. Jackie can see the car, maybe fifty yards away. All she has to do is keep walking, get in, drive away.

But something stops her. She can’t let it go down like this. Not on Christmas Eve. She yells at them, “Hey! I’m calling the cops!” They yell something nasty at her, then go back to struggling with the woman for her purse. It’s like the muggers somehow know Jackie’s phone battery is dead, which it is.

So Jackie picks up a handful of dirty snow, packs it hard into a snowball and throws it. She feels like she’s outside herself, like she can’t believe she’s doing this. But she does it. It hits the one with the knife right in the side of the head. She was always good at throw-

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Red & White & Black & Blue

ing snowballs. “What the hell?” Now their full attention’s on Jackie, faces twisting in anger. They let go of their victim, who runs for it.

“Hey! Get some help, hon!” Jackie yells lamely after her. She realize she’s on her own here, and that maybe what she just did was the right thing, but not necessarily the smart thing.

The one with the knife yells: “I’ll kill you!” Jackie thinks two thoughts. The first is: no good deed goes unpunished. The second is: this is my last thought. They grab her. “Dumb move,” the knife man hisses.

Jackie closes her eyes. Wow, this was fast. Goodbye Tommy, I love you.

But there’s a sudden noise of boots crunching on the road. She opens her eyes in time to see something spin the one with the knife around.

Something fast and big and...red? The guy holding her lets her go, throwing her to the ground. Jackie hits hard, her hands held out in front of her, scraped raw by the impact. Behind her there’s a struggle, but it’s over fast. The muggers are thoroughly beaten, they run away.

The first thing she notices is his eyes. Warm eyes. Then his gentle smile. “Are you all right, dear?” His voice is kind, but strong. “I saw what you did, you’re very brave.” Then she sees the rest of him, and she has to laugh.

Because it’s Santa Claus.

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Ever Again

chapter 2

Malpractice

“W

ell, you don’t look so bad,” he says. “Let’s see those

hands.”

Jackie holds out her shredded hands. She figures him for one of the store Santas, maybe an old biker working his white beard to pick up some extra cash. She’s still shook up, but she jokes, “Wow, Santa, I didn’t know you could kick butt like that.”

He laughs, “Ho ho ho!” Man, he’s really staying in character, she thinks. “I used to kick a lot of butt!” He holds out his hand, helping her to her feet.

“I’ll bet. Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you. You sure handled those two! You work at the store?”

“I don’t, uh...well, I work seasonally, you know. I’m Nikolai.”

“You’re kidding.”

“No, no, that’s my name.”

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Malpractice

“No, no, that’s my name.”

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Ever Again

“That’s really something, considering your line of work,” she says, nodding at the red suit.

“Ho ho ho!” She kind of wishes he’d stop doing that, though it does sound awfully convincing. “Come on, we need to wash those hands off, get ‘em wrapped. There’s a diner down the street.”

“But I can’t...I don’t have any money. I spent it all on Christmas.”

“I’ll buy, come on.”

While Jackie washes her scraped hands in the diner’s bathroom, he asks the waitress if there’s a first aid kit. “Sorry sweetie, we can’t let customers use the first aid, ‘cause of the malpractice insurance.”

“I’d just like to put some antiseptic on these cuts for her, you know, no biggie. There won’t be a malpractice suit...” He reads her name tag. “Cathy...please?” The waitress looks over her shoulder.

She can see Mark, the manager, behind the register watching them, like maybe Nikolai is some kind of nut. Jackie comes back with paper towels wrapped around her hands. Nikolai asks, “You OK?” “Yeah. It stings, but I got the gravel out.”

Cathy’s concerned, once she sees Jackie. “Oh, hon, what happened?”

“I got mugged. He saved me, it was really something.”

“Saved by Santa on Christmas Eve! You work around here, Santa?”

“Sometimes. Seasonally.”

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Malpractice

“Well, good on you, Santa Claus. The best I can do, how about I get you some cloth napkins, OK? It’s better to wrap your hands in.”

Cathy whispers, “And, look, I’ll see if I can sneak the disinfectant out of the kit. I’ll have to slip it to you.” She checks Mark the manager, he’s busy cashing out a customer.

“Oh, you are sweet, thanks.”

“No worries.” Cathy winks and goes off to the back.

“She’s nice,” Nikolai says.

Jackie looks him over. “So you’re a tough guy? Santa Claus?”

“Well, I wasn’t always Santa Claus, you know.”

“At the store, you mean? Like, you had other jobs?”

“Oh, no, dear, I don’t work at the store.”

“Well, where? At the mall?”

“No, no. Once I was a Viking.”

“I knew it! Is that a biker gang? I knew you were a biker!”

“No, darling, no. Vikings... you could call us gangs, but we didn’t have motorcycles back then.”

“Oh, like a street gang?”

“More like a ship’s gang, really.”

“Well...so, where do you work now?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“Yeah, you’re a store Santa.”

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Ever Again

“Well, you’re half right!”

“I don’t get you.”

“Jackie...I am Santa Claus.”

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Incident At The Diner

chapter 3

Incident At The Diner

“U

h...sure you are.” Oh no, Jackie thinks. He’s a nut. Wait a

minute. How does he know my name?

“Ho ho ho! They never believe me!”

“So...you’re Santa Claus, right? And you took time out from Christmas Eve to save me, and now you’re taking even more time to help me get patched up here? It’s a little hard to believe.”

“Time is fluid. Well, for me anyway. “ “But don’t you have go, um, deliver the presents and stuff?”

“Oh, of course. But there’s plenty of time.”

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Ever Again

Cathy the waitress comes back. She looks over to make sure the manager’s not watching. “Here, sweetie, here’s the napkins. I’m gonna slide you the disinfectant...” Cathy pulls it out of her apron, but mis-times it. Mark the manager sees. He frowns, walks over.

“Everything OK over here?” Mark’s fake smile says everything’s definitely not OK over here. “Cathy, is that from the first aid kit? You know that’s against the rules.”

“I was mugged,” Jackie blurts out. “He saved me, he saved me from these two guys. I scraped my hands when I fell.”

Mark says, “I understand, ma’am, but I can’t give you the disinfectant. We’re not an emergency room, and if you had an allergic reaction, well, we’d be liable...“ Nikolai says, “She’s not going to have an allergic reaction.”

“Sir, you’re not a doctor, are you?”

Nikolai looks amused. “Actually, I am a doctor. I have medical degrees from several universities. Now, please, give me the disinfectant.”

Mark the manager laughs, “Or what, Santa? You gonna put coal in my stocking?”

Nikolai laughs too. “Ho ho! I never do that, I don’t know how that ever got started. Now, please give me the disinfectant.” The bell on the door rings, a policeman comes in. He just came in for coffee, but

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Incident At The Diner

now he sees something’s up.

Mark the manager keeps on, louder now that the cop’s here: “Sir, I told you, it’s against the rules.”

“Break the rules.” Nikolai’s voice is quieter and darker.

“Sir, are you threatening me?”

Jackie says, “Look, maybe we should just leave.”

“Just let her use the medicine...”

“Sir, I don’t care if you really are Santa Claus, there is no way I am giving you the disinfectant.”

The policeman walks over. “Everything OK here?”

Mark puffs up a little more, now that the policeman’s here. “Guy thinks he’s Santa Claus.” Jackie notices Nikolai’s gloves, on the counter. They’re white leather, finely stitched, not store Santa gloves at all. His outfit too, now that she really looks at it, is expertly tailored, the trim is real fur, the boots well made. It doesn’t look like a costume.

“Let go of the bottle!” Mark’s getting red in the face.

“Look, let’s all just calm down a little bit. Sir, I’m gonna need you to let go of the bottle,” the cop says.

“She needs antiseptic.”

“Sir, I’m gonna have to ask you to step back...”

“Nikolai...” Jackie’s pleading with him to let it go. She appeals to

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Ever Again

the cop: “He saved me, can you please just all chill out?”

“Sir, please let go of the bottle.”

Nikolai faces down the cop and the manager. There’s a look on his face that’s far from jolly Santa, a look that’s fierce, ancient, dangerous. “Enough!” he says in a loud voice.

Jackie’s frightened. The situation’s spinning out of control. The cop isn’t having it. He’s going for his pepper spray.

And then Nikolai claps his hands.

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Incident At The Diner

She sees waves of light, ripples, circles, purple and green and yellow. There’s a crackling sound, and a SNAP. And everything’s stopped.

The whole place, except for Jackie and Nikolai, is frozen. The cop’s got the pepper spray in his hand, Mark’s yelling, Cathy’s in mid-shout, disinfectant in one hand, coffee pot in the other. Coffee’s spilling from it, the drops frozen, suspended in mid-air. The TV is even stuck on a scene from It’s A Wonderful Life, with Jimmy Stewart’s Uncle Billy and his crow. “Time out,” Nikolai says.

“Oh my God! You really are Santa Claus!”

“Yes, I told you so!”

“But...I thought you were crazy!”

“No, well, not too crazy anyway. I’m sorry I had to do that, but, you know, couldn’t be avoided. Let’s see to your hands now. I’ll go get that kit.”

He goes to the back of the diner, rummaging around. Jackie touches the face of Mark the manager, frozen in mid-yell. His skin is warm and alive. She swallows one of the drops of coffee floating in mid-air. Yup, it’s coffee, still hot. Yup, it’s real. Nikolai returns with the first-aid kit. He swabs Jackie’s hand with the disinfectant. “You’re gentle,” Jackie says. “You’re gentle and you’re Santa Claus...”

He laughs his warm laugh. “Oh, I wasn’t always gentle! And I

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Ever Again

wasn’t always Santa Claus, like I said. Before they found me, I was very different. After they found me too, for a while.”

“After who found you?

“The elves, of course.”

“They’re real too? Elves?”

“Oh yes, they’re real. It’s all real, young lady.”

“How did they...I mean, you said they found you? Were they looking for you?”

He pats her bandaged hand. “How’s that feel, dear?”

“So much better! Thank you!”

“Ekki at pakka.”

“What?”

“Ekki at pakka. That’s ‘you’re welcome’ in my native language.”

“Your native language?”

“Yes, it’s many years since I spoke it.”

“What is it?”

“Norse. The tongue of the Vikings.” He smiles again, and looks at her, really looks at her. Jackie feels like he’s looking right into her soul. She remembers the song: he’s gonna find out who’s naughty or nice. “You know, Jackie, I don’t stop for just anyone. It’s a very busy night for me. But I saw what you did. It was brave. Like you weren’t just thinking of yourself. You have character. Guts.”

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Incident At The Diner

“Thanks. I couldn’t just let them...”

“Yes, but they might have killed you instead.”

“I know, I didn’t think.”

“Hm, well...you made a difference in the world, didn’t you? You did good, you helped, you gave.”

“I guess...I mean...you know...I like helping people.”

“I do know.”

“But there’s not...it’s hard. I can barely help myself.”

“Mm. Times are tough.”

“I always wondered...why do you do it? Where did you come from?”

Nikolai smiles. “I don’t usually tell people. But you...” He looks her over again, then makes up his mind. “Mm-hm. So be it. All right, I’ll tell you.” He looks over at the TV and smiles. There’s Uncle Billy with his crow perched on his shoulder in It’s A Wonderful Life. “Part of why I like this movie is the crow, the raven. When I was a Viking, my friend was a raven.”

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Ever Again

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Notiker The Stammerer chapter 4

Notiker The Stammerer

“A

raven?”

“Yes, just like Uncle Billy’s bird there on the TV. But first I’ll tell

you about the Vikings. We came out of the cold lands. We were a sea-faring race. We followed the whale’s way, the seagull’s road over the oceans.

My clan was the Rus, a mighty tribe of fierce warriors. We had our gods, the Aesir. They were old, tough gods who took what they wanted when they wanted it. Above all was Wotan the All-Father, and Yggdrasil the Tree of Life. Trees were important to us. We built our homes near them. Each house had a spirit tree. The house might change, the people change. The old ones would die, the new ones be born, but the tree lived on. Each generation knew that tree, and the tree watched over them. The world was a very different place then, filled with trees and animals, much greener, much wilder. I grew up in the woods by a river at the foot of the white mountains. I remember a happy childhood spent outside playing with my friends, running with the dogs. I was a part of the forest. And so was my friend

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Ever Again

the raven.

All the Vikings loved ravens because of Wotan, who was always changing into one. We’d fly a special red and black raven flag when we were about to attack some place. If it fluttered, if it caught the breeze, that was a good omen. It meant Wotan was on our side and we should attack. If it didn’t flutter...well, most of the time we’d attack anyway! Because we were Vikings!

I had a pet raven called Vlarni. Everyone loved Vlarni! He was our mascot. I’d had him since I was little, and then he came with me on the sea. I even have a tattoo of Vlarni...”

“You have a tattoo? Santa Claus has tattoos?”

“Vikings had loads of tattoos!” Rolling up his sleeve, he reveals an arm sleeved with tattoos.

“Wow!” “Oh, yes! Look, here’s Vlarni the raven, right there. He was a good bird, up for anything. I found him one day by the spirit tree of our house. He was just a hatchling fallen out of the nest. My friend Squint wanted to stomp him. ‘Baby bird stomp,’ he said, like it was a fun game. Vikings had no tolerance for weakness, and a helpless baby bird is about as weak as you can get. But I couldn’t stomp him, and I couldn’t let Squint. It just...it didn’t seem right. So I scooped him up.

Squint made fun of me for being soft, but I didn’t care.”

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Notiker The Stammerer

“Squint?”

“Yes, everyone had a nickname. Squint’s eyesight was bad, was why he got his. Me, I was born Nikolai but everyone called me Finehair, because I had an excellent head of golden hair. White now,

but I still have most of it! My jarl, the king, was Ragnar Lodbrok but everyone called him Hairy Britches, from him stuffing straw in his clothes to keep warm.” Nikolai takes a danish pastry from a covered tray. “This looks good! Anyway, a big part of the idea of me, Santa Claus, is sneaking in and out of all these houses like a thief in the night. Well, there’s a basis in fact there. I have been a thief in the

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Ever Again

night, and I was good at it.”

“I never thought of it that way, but you are kind of the world’s greatest burglar.”

“Oh yes, in and out fast,” he says. “Vikings became warriors early.

Twelve summers old in my case. Hairy Britches took Squint and me along on a raid on another clan. There were stones. Crystals, navigation stones. You could use ‘em to plot the sky, set a course, move by the stars. Seeing stones, they were called. And Hairy Britches wanted them. A rival jarl had them, a mean thug with a terrible speech impediment. Notiker the Stammerer was his name, and he was a ferocious, deadly fighter. The only way into his fortress was through a tiny window that Hairy Britches’ scouts’d spied out. Too small for a warrior. But just right for kids like Squint or me. And Hairy Britches had a plan.

We were scared. But we were more excited at the chance to be grown-ups. Hairy Britches’ plan was Squint and I’d crawl through the window and find the gate. One of us would stay there, ready to lower it. The other’d get the stones from under Notiker’s throne, where he kept ‘em.

That was my job. I found Notiker’s throne, in the feast hall. I also found Notiker himself, asleep on his throne. Notiker was big and hairy, with a patch covering one eye. I slid out the box with the

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Notiker The Stammerer

stones smoothly enough, but that one red eye of his opened, and looked right at me! I grabbed the stones and ran.

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Ever Again

Notiker the Stammerer yelled, ‘St-st-stop, th-th-thief,’ and chased after me. All around warriors awoke, dogs barked, it was bad! I raced to the gate just in time to see Squint hack through the rope holding it shut. The gate came down, our warriors rushed in. I remember Notiker’s look of surprise. Then he laughed, swinging his sword, singing at the top of his lungs. Singing his death song, you see. Notiker was a real Viking! He took down a lot of our men that day, but we won through with surprise and guile. Hairy Britches said Squint and I were warriors after that. The seeing stones worked wonders for our navigators, the accuracy of Rus sailing became legend.

By the time I was sixteen, I was on the longships with Squint and my mates and Vlarni too. And oh, how we bothered the Coast of Triumphs! From Skellig to Rathlin, from Inishmurray to Avaldness, how glorious I thought it was! We fought, we triumphed, we ruled, we drank, whatever we wanted we took! But it’s one thing to fight warriors, to pick on people your own size. Other times, it wasn’t like that.” He sighs and frowns. “Like at Lindisfarne”

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Lindisfarne

chapter 5

Lindisfarne

W

e swept into Lindisfarne from the sea, burnt the village,

looted their treasure. It wasn’t really a battle. There were no warriors there, just monks, farmers, fishermen. I remember standing in the middle of it. The town on fire, the sun setting through smoke, the sea at our back. The screaming. And one of us, Klak Harald he was called, he’d cornered a woman and her child. Just a baby. Klak Harald had his axe out.

I looked up and saw Vlarni on top of a roof, watching. I remembered the scrawny hatchling I’d saved. Now he was grown, strong, smart. He was looking at Klak Harald menacing this woman and child. Vlarni looked curious, cocking his head like birds do, like he couldn’t figure out exactly what was going on. I suddenly had this

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Ever Again

idea, that lives, innocent lives, they were worth something. Who was Klak Harald to take these people’s lives?

It was very un-Viking, but I grabbed his arm, and told him no. I told the woman to run. Klak Harald, he was much bigger than me.

But I held him off, and the woman ran with her babe for the deep forest on the edge of the town. Klak Harald was furious. I wasn’t supposed to care about saving defenseless people from mad Vikings like Klak Harald. I was supposed to be a mad Viking! And Vlarni, he just flew off to the forest himself, as if he was following the mother and child. Klak Harald said, “Even the raven knows you’re soft!”

I knew in my heart I’d done the right thing, but everyone was against me. Even Vlarni’d deserted me. And here the town was under our thumb. All my fellows were having a grand old time, but not me.

I felt bad for all the people there. We’d stolen their treasure. We’d burnt their town, and them defenseless, no warriors to fight for them. It didn’t feel honorable at all.

Hairy Britches, Squint, Klak Harald and I wound up in a tavern, one of the few things we’d left standing. We were in there for days, getting roaring drunk, chasing the wenches around, eating big haunches of meat...you know, Viking stuff. Klak Harald had forgiven me for my bad manners, or more likely forgotten about it under all that ale. It was day three when we finally passed out.When I woke, it

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Lindisfarne

was night. The hearth had gone out. Squint, Klak Harald, and Hairy Britches were snoring away. The wenches and the tavern keeper’d crept off and left us alone.

Out of the darkness, Vlarni flew into the tavern, perching on the back of a chair! “Caw caw! Caw caw caw,” he crowed.

“Vlarni!” I was so glad he’d come back! I held out my arm to him, but he didn’t come.

“Caw caw caw!” He looked past me, into the darkness beyond the threshold. “Caw caw caw caw!” He kept looking at me, then looking into the dark, like he was talking to someone out there. Talking about me.

Then, I heard a voice from out of the darkness. “We’ve been watching you.”

I whirled, startled, drawing my sword. Another voice said, “You’re not like them.”

I saw no one. I said, “Who are you?”

The voices repeated, “We’ve been watching you.”

Another said, “You’re not like them.”

I moved forward, sword held out. “Who are you?”

“You can help us.”

“Where are you? Are you gods?”

The voices laughed. “Ha ha, not gods, no!”

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Ever Again

“Where are you then?”

“We’re right in front of you.”

“But I see no one? Are you invisible?” The hair was up on the back of my neck.

“You look too high. Look down here.”

I lowered my gaze. They stepped out of the shadows, into the feeble candlelight of the tavern. I hissed through my teeth, “Wotan’s blood...”

They were three little bearded men, with big eyes and pointy ears.

Elves are no more than waist high, no wonder I missed seeing them!

They wore soldier’s tat, odds and ends from ancient armies, from Rome, from the Huns, armored mail here, a spiked, furry hat there, a hodge podge of military gear. One of them called me by name! “You can help us, Finehair. And we can help you.”

And that’s how I met the elves.

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The Little Men

chapter 6

The Little Men

“C

aw caw caw caw caw,” said Vlarni. The little men looked

at him intently, listening.

One of them answered back, in bird talk. “Caw caw caw caw?”

Vlarni hopped around some more, like he was making a big point.

“Caw! Caw caw caw caw caw!”

The little man answered, “Caw caw!” Then, to me, he said, “Yes, watching you, ever since the bird here told us about you helping that woman and her child. She told us about you too. She came to us, in the woods. Kind, what you did for her. You’re not like them, not cruel and stupid. You could help us.”

“We could help you,” said another.

“Help me do what? I don’t need help!”

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Ever Again

“Help you be who you should be. You’re wasted as a Viking. Your talent lies in helping others, not taking from them.”

“What? I am a son of the Rus, not some lily-livered monk!”

“We didn’t say you wouldn’t be fighting.”

“Plenty of opportunity for that!”

“For better reasons than just looting and pillaging, forever taking and giving nothing.”

“Who are you? What do you want?” I said.

The red-headed leader smiled. “I’m Snorri, friend Finehair. Or Nikolai. May you have many names before your time’s done. That’s an elvish good luck wish. My companions, Harzach and Pieter.” The little men bowed.

“Elves...” The Rus had many tales about elves, and they weren’t all nice and cute. Elves were powerful beings, to be feared and if at all possible avoided.

“Aye, elves,” Snorri said, eyes narrowing. “You know the elves, Viking, the elves of the deep Earth, tree-dwellers, mountain haunters, gold miners. Elves of the Old Ways. But the Old Ways are ending.

Soon it’ll be our time to go back into the Earth, to leave the world of the new men behind.” He settled into a chair, filling a pipe. “We hardly pay much attention to man anymore, to tell you the truth.”

“But we have a problem,” Harzach said. “A problem what needs

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The Little Men

violence and cunning,” “And stealth.”

“And the willing heart.” Snorri lit his pipe, blowing a cloud of smoke, which changed color from grey to pink with yellow sparkles.

“Do you want to see? Will you hear us out? Or are you afraid?”

“Afraid? I am Rus, I’m afraid of nothing, little man!”

“Good! You’ll need all your courage. Pieter, do you have it?”

“I do, yes, here – oops!” There was a thud and a little glass globe fell to the floor.

“Careful!”

“Sorry!”

“Butterfingers.”

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Ever Again

The elves concentrated on that little ball. It rose into the air! It grew bigger, till its lines just dissolved. Floating in space was an image of green fields, blue skies, a castle presiding over a prosperous town hard by the coast, much like Lindisfarne.

“Pretty, isn’t it?” Snorri said. “A happy place. Till darkness fell.””

“He’s a swine,” said Harzach.

“That’s an insult to swine. He’s evil,” said Pieter.

“It’s the witches fault. They should clean up their mess.”

“Why should they? They wanted to make a mess. Besides, they can’t any more, not after what he did to them.”

“What...who are you talking about?” I asked.

Snorri sighed. “It’s the person who’s causing the problem that we need help with. Well, really, the person is the problem. Rathi, the prince of that land. It was a green and fine place, and the people were happy under Rathi’s parents, the king and queen. But this king and queen believed in the new ways. They vowed to stamp out witchcraft. Witches get mad if you try to stamp them out. Well, this king and queen chased the witches away all right. And then the king and queen had a son.”

“Bad timing, bad timing.”

“We warned them.”

“Yes, we warned them. But they didn’t like us very much either.

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The Little Men

They didn’t like our ways, our old ways. But there were worse ways.”

The image floating in the air showed crones in witches’ rags conjuring a child, around ten years old, out of a smoking cauldron!

“This is dark magic,” I said.

“Oh, the darkest,” Snorri answered. “A changeling, the witches made him.” The globe flickered to another child sleeping in a bed, then withered old witchy hands reaching in, holding something over the child’s mouth. The boy squirmed for a moment, eyes opening in terror, then closed, his body limp. The witches carried him off, leaving the child from out of the cauldron in his place.

“This is wickedness!” I said.

“The wickedest,” Harzach confirmed.

Snorri took up the tale: “Oh, yes. Never vex a witch. Hex for vex is all you’ll ever get. But even the witches couldn’t guess what they’d conjured. They thought they could relax. But the changeling had a mind of its own. He schemed to become king.” The globe showed the changeling Rathi lounging on a golden throne. He looked out at the world with cold eyes. “He disposed of the king and queen, his supposed parents. It looked like accidents, but it weren’t.”

“Falls off horses. Choking on appleseeds, that sort of thing,” Harzach said.

“He didn’t help the witches either. He wanted their power. He

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The Little Men

hunted ‘em and he caught ‘em. He applied...pressure.” Terrible images flashed in the air now, of the witches put to the rack and the flame.

“Stole their ways, stole their knowledge, stole their power and when he was done, stole their lives. And then, he called something. Something foul, from beyond the stars.”

The terrible child, Rathi, stood in a circle of red candles, mouthing an incantation. A thing appeared, wreathed in foul, grey smoke.

It was seven feet tall in the figure of a man, but that was all that was human about it. It was a demon in black fur, one foot human, the other a hoof. It was horned, like a goat, with pointed ears. A long tongue lolled, slobbering out of its mouth. Its yellow cat-eyes looked around the room dumbly. Then Rathi spoke, and it bowed down before him.

“Wotan’s blood! What is that?”

“That is the Krampus.”

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Ever Again

chapter 7

The Krampus

“W

hat in the world is a Krampus?”

“A thing from beyond. A thing to do his bidding. The people saw

Rathi’s wicked ways and rebelled. He solved his problem by conjuring the Krampus to take what people will never let be destroyed, to gain leverage over them.”

“Take what?”

“Not what. Who. The children, the children.” The globe showed the awful Krampus sneaking into a sleeping house. He carried a bag over his hairy shoulder. He emerged with the children of the house stuffed, squirming, into the big bag. “Spirited off to the hall of Rathi.

All the children of the town, children of the whole kingdom.”

Now Rathi stood on a balcony of the castle. Below was a mob, demanding their children back. Then, at Rathi’s side appears the

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The Krampus

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Ever Again

Krampus, with his black, pointed tongue drooling out of his fanged mouth. The Krampus shoves a terrified child in front of him. “Rathi had the Krampus steal the children. The people could do nothing, and now he’s set them to work, building war machines that even you Vikings’d run from.”

Rathi’s cowed subjects built ships and armored sleds, covered with spikes. They chopped down ancient trees to make bows and axe handles. They smelted iron to forge swords and axes. It looked harsh for these enslaved people. But I also saw their creations with a Viking’s professional eye. “I have to say, that is a nice catapult.”

The elves looked at me with disgust, but Snorri said, “Don’t worry, brothers, that’s why we got him. We need a warrior, not a philosopher. And I do remember the way you treated that woman and her child, Viking. You’re not entirely bloody-handed, no matter how you talk.”

“Maybe not. But mostly,” I said. “Why does he make all this?”

“Rathi will forever look a child, he will be as the witches created him, never aging, so long as he lives. But he has the ambitions of a grown tyrant. He’ll make war on the world. He’ll use his own people as fodder. Unlike him, the children he enslaves will grow. They’ll be forced to enlist, to fight for him, all held sway under the power of the Krampus. They’ll find you, too, they’ll find your Rus.”

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The Krampus

“I’d like to see that!”

“Oh, you will, you will. Rathi’ll have an army, and no one able to stop him. Unless he’s stopped now.”

“But...you’re elves, you’re magic. Can’t you, you know, cast a spell or curse him or something?”

“In magic he’s too strong. We tried to stop him with magic, but he has the Krampus, and the Krampus’ power is beyond us. He can smell magic a mile away. We tried raising an army against him, but his war machine is already too powerful to be taken by brute force.

But one man, one strong, resourceful, crafty man could sneak into his keep and kill him. And the Krampus.”

I’d been foggy with drink, but this last cleared my head right up.

“Elves...why should I even believe you? You could just be after this Rathi’s throne, for all I know. And him coming after the Rus – I reckon we’d take our chances, and this Rathi’d be the worse for it.

You’re asking me to risk my skin, if I read you right. What’s in it for me?”

Snorri smiled. He held out his hands, clasped together, closed.

When he opened them, there were our seeing stones! “What you stole, you must win again.”

I lunged for him, but he moved out of my way so fast that I fell flat on the floor. I leapt up, chasing after him. He ran away from me

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Ever Again

at lightning speed, climbing the walls like a bug! He rocketed around the walls, running sideways, laughing like it was hilarious. I chased him till I was dizzy. Vlarni was hopping up and down, cawing in excitement. Finally, I gave up.

“You’ll never catch me, I’m afraid,” Snorri said. He swung lazily on the wooden chandelier hanging from the tavern ceiling.

“Fine. Keep the stones, I don’t care. We’ll navigate without ‘em.”

“You can, of course, but the stones, the stones make it so much easier and quicker, don’t they?”

“So what? I’m not sticking my nose in some crazy wizard castle with a demon in it for the stones, none of us would, we’ll just sail away as best we can.”

“Mmm, but without the stones – wouldn’t you say their use shaves much time and guesswork off your navigation? Days, even a week, I’d wager.”

“Yes, yes, it’s much faster.”

“Mmmm. And you’ll need to plot a quick course quite soon.”

“Why? Are the farmers going to throw beets at us?”

“Oh no, not farmers, no.” I’d forgotten about the globe, then noticed it stuck to the ceiling, out of harm’s way. It slowly floated down, expanding again. “Something much worse than farmers coming.” The globe showed a fleet, shields lashed to the sides of the boats,

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The Krampus

decks crowded with warriors, flying over the waves. Snorri identified the ships. “Erik Bloodaxe’s fleet. D’ye remember Erik? You might recall his father, Notiker the Stammerer. I daresay Erik Bloodaxe recalls the Rus, eh? He’s heard of your doings here. Very bad, very bad. Did you know, Erik has converted? Mm, yes, converted to the new

ways. He didn’t take kindly when he heard you raided this place, and now he’s coming. For his father’s memory, for the new ways. You’ve got maybe seven, eight days before he arrives with overwhelming force. I think he’d like to find the youth what let down the gate on his father’s fortress. Maybe have a little talk with him. You could cut and run now, I suppose, assuming you could wake everyone up. But you’d have to figure a course away from him and without the stones

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Ever Again

to set the course, that’ll take some time, won’t it? Blundering around out there on the ocean.”

Bloodaxe was a formidable enemy, and he hated the Rus. If he fell on us with such a large force, we were done. Snorri said, “Do as we ask and you’ll get the stones back. And that’s not all. You’ll carry away treasure what’ll spin your head.”

Now my ears perked up, for a Viking is shrewd and listens well when someone speaks of our favorite thing: treasure. “Keep talking...” I said.

“D’ye think Rathi lives a life of privation? He’s rich beyond imagining! Look, here in his treasure room!” The globe showed a vault piled high with gold and jewels. “Yes, just lying around. If you accomplish your mission, slay Rathi, slay the Krampus...before you go, just fill a sack. A big sack! Many big sacks! All you can carry.”

“By Ymir, this is real?”

“Oh, yes, all of it, quite real.”

“How do I know you’ll keep your word?”

“Elves always keep their word. You have our word on it!”

I frowned at that, but let it go. “I still don’t understand – why should you care about the world of men and what happens in it?”

“Rathi wants us elves next. He wants our power. We’ll never be able to rest, he’ll sniff us out. He’ll put us to the rack and the fire, just

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The Krampus

like the witches. He’ll wring our secrets out of us, bleed us of our power. And then he really will be unstoppable.”

“He’ll set the Krampus on us, with his birch switches and his bloody red nails,” Harzach said.

“We need a sword to pass through the fire,” Snorri said.

“Fire? Nobody mentioned fire.”

“Not a real fire. But, if you look at it like that, we’ve been sending bundles of wood into a fire, when what’s needed is steel, a single sword of good steel. It’ll heat up, sure, but pass through and strike!

You, Viking, are that sword.”

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chapter 8

Animal Language

“W

hat, me? One man, against a whole fortress?”

“Are not the Vikings the strongest, meanest, most cunning, most

able of warriors?” Harzach asked.

“Of course!”

“And are you not a Viking?”

Vlarni was hopping around again. “Caw, caw, caw!” He bobbed his head up and down, as if agreeing.

“Vlarni’s told us you are the best swordsman of your clan. He’s told us of your outstanding sneakiness and abilities as a thief,” Snorri

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Animal Language

said.

“The skills what stole these very stones,” Harzach said.

Snorri said, “Fine and sneaky, eh? Vikings are not just fierce in battle, they’re full of guile and wiles, no?”

“Caw caw caw!” Vlarni flew to my shoulder.

I shooed him away, and he flapped around the room, settling on a chair. “Cursed bird! Blabbing your tail feathers off about my business.

But wait, what do you mean anyway, he told you about me? Birds can’t talk, you elves are just making up things with your mystical nonsense.”

“You won’t be alone, either,” Snorri said, ignoring my question.

“Allies will be with you.”

“What sort of allies?”

“Oh, magic allies!”

“But I thought Rathi could smell magic a mile away?”

“The magic of humans and elves, but not magic placed in vessels.”

“Animal vessels!” Harzach said.

“Caw caw!” Vlarni crowed.

“What do you mean, animal vessels?”

“Rathi can smell out magic on people or things like people, like us elves. But animals, no. We will send you with strong animal allies, yes!”

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“Animals? What good will they do?”

“Who is more stealthy than an animal? Who sees in the dark, flies, runs like the wind? Who can hunt...and kill? You’ll be able to speak to them, to have them help you. Come to me, Viking.” I hadn’t even seen him get down from the chandelier, but suddenly there he was, right in front of me. Despite my fears of elves and magic, my gut said the little men wouldn’t harm me. “Give me thy ears.” I knelt to Snorri’s level. “This is the point of no return. Now is the moment, here is the place. Will you accept this mission? For glory and gold?

Or are ye afeared?”

“I told you, I fear nothing, I am a Viking!”

“So...you accept?”

These wily elves were using my nature to enlist me, but what choice did I have? We had to have the stones...cursed Bloodaxe coming to slit our throats...and all that lovely treasure! “Little man, you are shifty as any Viking prince! But you have my sword and me. I warn you, though. Go back on your word and I’ll have your head as well as Rathi’s.”

“The word of the elves is a sacred thing.” Snorri began rubbing his hands together, faster and faster, till they were a blur. When he stopped, they were glowing orange and yellow, looking hot as a forge. Then he put his hands on my ears! But I felt no pain, no heat,

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Animal Language

nothing really. When he took his hands away, I felt unchanged.

“What? That’s it? Nothing happened.”

The little men laughed. Vlarni flew to my shoulder again, squawking, “Caw caw caw!” Then his birdcalls changed. Vlarni was talking! He said, “I’ve always loved you, Nikolai. I’ve always wanted to tell you how much. You saved me and I owe you my life. I remember everything, the ravens remember. I remember how you saved me from getting stomped by Squint. I remember how you took care of me and helped me grow up. I remember watching you grow up, too, seeing you run and play in the forest. I remember seeing kindness in you, and strength. There’s a light out of you that you can’t see, but I see it, I see it.” He nodded to the scene around us, the drunk Vikings passed out in the floor, the stinking tavern, the smoking ruin of Lindisfarne outside. “You’re made for better things, Finehair. Don’t worry, I’ll be with you, me and the others.”

Back in the diner, Santa Claus smiles at Jackie. “It wouldn’t do to have those elves see a Viking shed a tear, but Vlarni, well...that moved me. The raven, Wotan’s bird-spirit, it was as if Wotan himself was talking to me. That night...well, some nights change our lives forever.”

“I’ll say,” Jackie agrees.

“That one changed mine. So I said: ‘All right, bird. Now what?’”

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46

The Reindeer King

chapter 9

The Reindeer King

T

he elves were thrilled. “Wonderful! And you will not be alone,

as we said. You’ll have Vlarni and others. One of them comes now.”

Something was in the dark road outside the tavern. It looked like fireflies at first, but it was the glow of animal eyes reflecting the moon. Maybe they got me a horse! An eight-legged horse, like Wotan had!

But it wasn’t an eight-legged horse, it was a herd of reindeer. They were stately, elegant, but what good were reindeer? The ranks of the herd parted. A buck walked down the center. His horns were fine and tall. The herd made a path for him, bowing down as he passed.

“A reindeer?” I said.

“This is our ally, Donner the Reindeer King, an immortal spirit of the forest, and the possessor of a great power.”

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The deer looked down his nose at me. When he spoke, it was in a deep, plummy voice: “This is him? Rather young, don’t you think?”

“Yes, yes, but youth is on our side, youth has energy and spirit,” Snorri told him.

“Youth accepts the mission, you mean,” Donner snorted.

“What good is a deer to me? Can I eat him?”

Snorri laughed, “No, you are to ride him!”

“I thought you said the lair of Rathi was far away. How can a deer help? I mean, why not a horse, then?”

“A horse?” Donner rumbled. “I am King of the Reindeer!”

Vlarni hopped onto the horns of Donner. “Please, Reindeer King.

Give him a chance. You two are getting off on the wrong hoof.”

“Hmph. All right then, brother raven, if you vouch for him. You, Viking, what is your name?” Donner asked.

“I am Nikolai Finehair of the Rus.” “All right, Nikolai Finehair of the Rus, climb on my back. Don’t worry, it’ll be all right,” the big reindeer insisted. I got on his strong back, Vlarni perched on my shoulder. “All right then. Just hold onto my antlers. We won’t be going far, but I will show you my value.” I expected him to break into a run. Maybe he was a really fast deer.

He began to gallop, then just stepped up into the air! We were flying.

We rose higher and higher over Lindisfarne. “By Ymir, you can fly!”

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The Reindeer King

I yelled. Flying’s a big part of my work now, and that was the first time. What a thrill, it never gets tired.

After a few more turns, Donner landed back at the tavern. “So,” Snorri said, “I think now you can see the genius of Donner. Beloved of the old gods is the immortal Reindeer King, given the gift of flight by them, a gift he passes down through the generations. Donner’s no friend of Rathi, nor are any of the forest animals. Rathi will kill their green woods, his army eat them, his schemes poison their lakes and rivers with filth. Yes, Rathi has no friends among the animals. But you do. Donner will fly you to the hall of Rathi and back.”

I felt stupid for doubting Donner. I knelt before him and said, “I was a fool. Forgive me.”

Donner snorted, his hot breath steaming in the cold air. “We’ll start over.”

“Agreed,” I said. “Reindeer King.”

“Viking.”

Snorri said, “You must come away with us, to our camp in the forest. There’s things to do.”

“All right, but what about them?” I gestured to my sleeping, drunk fellow Vikings.

“They’ll be fine. If you complete your mission, we’ll give you the stones.”

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“But...what if I fail?”

“If you fail...oh, what’s the difference, we’ll give them the stones.”

Snorri was smiling, like he was making a funny joke. But his expression darkened. He gripped my arm, looked into my eyes, and I saw fear there. “But you mustn’t fail,” he said.

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Dava & Fenris & Ever Again

chapter 10

Dava & Fenris & Ever Again

T

he trees whispered in the wind over the elves’ camp. The

forest animals were drawn there. The birds were curious to see what the fuss was about. Vlarni hopped from limb to limb all day, talking to them. “The robin told me Rathi builds for war. War for everywhere. And he’s nearly ready. Ships, sleds, armies.”

“Into the north? To our land of the Rus?” “The Rus and beyond. Rathi’s greedy for all the world.”

“And what about Bloodaxe?”

“The seagulls tell me he’s a week or so out, closing across the channel.”

I looked around the camp. Elves, talking animals, how my world had changed in just a day! Suddenly the deer all looked up, startled and frightened. Donner stepped protectively in front of them.

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52

Dava & Fenris & Ever Again

Out of the forest, an old she-wolf slunk into the camp. She was gaunt, sinewy, but still strong and possessed of a healthy set of fangs.

Donner stood tall, staring her down. The she-wolf wasn’t intimidated. She looked past Donner, at the cowering deer. “I’ll see you later...” she said, smiling a wolf smile. “Don’t fret, Reindeer King, I’m not hungry. I’ve business with Snorri.” She nodded to Snorri, and he to her. “Fenris...his time came. It was just this morning. Before his end, he told me to come to you.”

“You know what we have to do,” Snorri said.

“I know. Fenris knew, we all knew. Take what you need. Leave the rest for the forest.”

“Ever again,” Snorri said. He put his hand gently to her face, as you might soothe a small child.

She pressed her head into his hand. “And ever ever,” she answered. Then she saw me. “This is him, eh?”

“Yes, this is Nikolai.”

“Nikolai, rrrrgh.” She growled low in her throat, a greeting. “I’m Dava, mate of Fenris.” She paced around me, sniffing, appraisng me.

“Hmph, well chosen. He seems quite fit. And righteously murderous.”

To me, she said, “My Fenris has passed into the Ever Again. He left something for you. And now you must come and take it.”

“Me?” I looked to Snorri, who nodded. “All right then.”

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Ever Again

“You’ll need your sword,” Snorri said. “And you, master raven and Reindeer King, may I have a word?”

Snorri and I followed Dava the she-wolf deep into the woods.

Snorri’d set a task for Vlarni and Donner, who flew to the east. Now the day was ending, the sunlight fading. We came to a rock, out of which grew a bare tree. Under it was the body of a wolf, watched over by a pack of eight or nine more., silently, in vigil. When even a fly came near the body, they would snap and bite at it, driving it away.

Dava told the pack, “He’s here, this is the one, come to do what he must. It could have been any of the other animals, but it came to us when Fenris passed. Let him carry the spirit of the pack. It’s not just for them. It’s a thing that needs doing, for all of us.” She nodded to Snorri and I. “Proceed.”

“To do what?” I asked.

Snorri answered, “Skin him.”

“What?”

“Take his coat,” Dava said.

“But – we already have coats and blankets...”

“Not a coat like this one will be, I hope. Take it, take what he gives you,” Dava said.

In the half-light I built a little fire, heated my sword and skinned

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Dava & Fenris & Ever Again

the dead wolf, Fenris. Dava and the pack kept a distance as I worked.

They set up a terrific howling, mourning him. When I finished, they stopped. Dava came back to me. I stepped in front of the corpse of Fenris, wanting to spare her the sight of him, skinned as he was. She said, “I see what you’re doing, trying to be kind. Rrrrgh...not needed though. That isn’t Fenris, that’s just a body now. Wolves are practical animals. Fenris was a sweet mate. A powerful wolf, the terror of the forest, a wise leader of the pack, a strong father to his cubs, a constant love to me. What made him dear has flown away to the Ever Again. And flown into my heart, where I’ll carry his memory, till my turn comes. And that is as it should be, human, that is the way. Ever again. And ever ever.”

Dava glanced only once at the red corpse of Fenris. She raised a howl of wild, deep love into the cold sky. Then she stopped, and smiled her dog smile at me. “Do what needs doing.” She looked at Snorri and laughed, low and raspy. “And you tell those reindeer to watch out. Just because we were nice to them this time doesn’t mean they aren’t still delicious!” Then Dava the she-wolf and her pack disappeared into the dark forest.

When they were gone, I asked Snorri, “Why did we do that? We have plenty of coats, furs even.”

“Old fur,” Snorri said. “With the life long gone out of it. Fenris –

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he still lingers.” He pulled a drawstring bag out of his pocket, pouring the contents into his hands. It was a green, sparkling powder.

He dabbed a finger in the powder, and touched it to my forehead. “I bind you to the skin. You’ll see...” He put the remaining powder into the fire. Green smoke enveloped Fenris’ coat, clinging to it. I caught a whiff of grass, rain, something sweet like a flower and something metallic and sharp. “I bind Fenris’ spirit, for now. He’ll go later. He knew. They all knew we would ask this of them. The she-wolf was wrong, he’s not all the way gone to Ever Again. He lingers, he lingers...he’ll help you.”

“Help me how?”

“I don’t know, really. It’s different every time. Go to sleep now, we’ll leave the coat to dry, and find out in the morning.” Snorri was right, I realized I was tired. I stretched out under the forest canopy.

“Ever and ever again,” I muttered, and fell asleep.

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A Voice In My Head

chapter 11

A Voice In My Head

I

woke shivering. Snorri was still asleep. I was cold and my

stomach in a knot. It was fear. Fear that I was in over my head, that I’d die doing this. The mission suddenly seemed crazy. But if I didn’t go, all my fellows’d be trapped by Bloodaxe. I looked to the sky, to mighty Wotan. “All Father, hear me, take away my fear.” But nothing came. I looked to the ancient trees around me. “Yggdrasil, tree of life, give me the strength of thy roots, the power of thy limbs.”

Nothing. Just a chill wind through the trees, and Snorri sighing in his sleep.

I sighed too, shaking with cold. Then I thought of Fenris’ coat, dried and cured overnight above the fire. It looked a little disconcerting. The elf had put yellow glass marbles in place of the eyes, and they were eerily lifelike. Still, the coat would be warm, so I gathered

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Ever Again

it up. It held the fire’s heat, nice and toasty. But I nearly jumped out of my own skin when suddenly a voice spoke in my head! Where am I? Where is my body? I yelped, and threw the coat to the ground. The glass marble eyes were glowing!

I was scared of it, the coat of Fenris, but I’m a curious person. I picked it up and put it back on. Again, the thing spoke in my head. Its voice was full of good humor. Ah, now I think I know. Are you the one the elves spoke of? Ho! Am I no more? Come, come, talk to me, not much I can do to you now, is there? Don’t be afraid! Look at you, you’re one of them aren’t you? Those fierce Northmen? You’re not supposed to be frightened of

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A Voice In My Head

anything! I’m Fenris. Who are you? Have you see my girl, my Dava?

“I – I’m Nikolai Finehair of the Rus. Yes, yes, I saw her, your mate.

She told us about you, that you had...that you were...”

Dead? But I live on, apparently. How was my Dava?

“She was sad but strong. She loved you, wolf-spirit. She loves you still. She howled over your body.”

How I love my DavaaAARROOOO! The wolf was howling in my head, it was ear-splitting!

“Hey, stop it, stop it!” I had my hands over my ears, but it didn’t help.

I can mourn a little if I want! Northmen...all you know is battle. What can you know of love?

“They told me you’d help me. Now, will you, or will you just insult me?”

Ha, all right, all right. Yes, they said it was to be against him who’d destroy the forest. And enslave the villagers and eat all their tasty sheep. Can’t have that. Is that why I’m still here, fierce warrior?

“Yes, that’s it.”

Then I am for it! Say! Before, you were calling out to Wotan...is he your god? Well, it’s only natural to be a little frightened. Healthy, really.

I know you now, Nikolai Finehair, we’re bound. I know you for capable with a blade, strong, merciless when you need to be. I’m here with you now.

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Perhaps your Wotan sent me. Let us see what we can do against this ruiner of lands. I felt the fur tighten a bit, as if Fenris was wrapping himself around me.Wolves are good at slipping into places quietly, lying in wait, then GRRRRSSsstriking without mercy! Will that suit?

“It sounds well suited, but how?”

“Nikolai, where are you?” Snorri’d woken, and was searching for me around the camp. I was right there, a few feet in front of him. But he didn’t see me.

Ha ha ha, that’s how! He can’t see us! He can’t see you with me on! Ah, the guile and style of the wolf, rrrrrrrrgh. His happy growl made a rumbling in my head, and I had to grin too.

“Thank you Wotan, this is strong magic,” I said. The elf jumped, frightened at the sound of my disembodied voice.

“Oh! Nikolai, where are you?” I doffed the coat, and Snorri’s eyes widened. “So – you found its power then.”

“Yes, Fenris and I have had a long talk.”

Snorri clapped his hands together. “Ah! Praises! You are one with the wolf spirit!”

I suddenly felt much better, and couldn’t resist tilting my head back, and howling: “AARRROOOO!”

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The Plan

chapter 12

The Plan

“A

RRRROOOO!” Nikolai’s howl echoes off the diner walls,

then he laughs.

Jackie laughs along with him. She says, “You really are jolly!”

“I try to keep it fun! Anyway, back to my story. The training.

Mostly sword practice, a lot of climbing up, even more climbing down. Lots of climbing down! I finally found out why.”

Snorri told me: “It’ll be after a feast. The warriors’ll all be passed out, drunk.”

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“Yes, but how do I get in?”

“Down the chimney.”

“What? I’ll burn up!”

“Not if you go in at the right time. If you go very early in the morning, the fire will have died. The chimneys are big, big enough for you to squeeze down. It’ll be warm, yes, but...”

Vlarni said, “It’ll be hot, but not so bad if you go in quick. I did it, Nikolai!”

“What? You?” “Yes, I’ve been there, with Donner, while you went and got Fenris. I had a look around. I went down the chimney, late at night.

They’re big and wide. I singed my tail feathers, but I did it!” He ruffled his feathers, proud of himself.

“Huh...well, it’s a novel plan.”

Vlarni said, “It’s the only way. The fort is...well, it’s not like any other, you’ll see. I was thinking of Hairy Britches, you could stuff your clothes with straw, like him, help keep the heat off while you climb down.”

“Well...I guess it could work.” At this point, nothing sounded that crazy. Vlarni said Rathi’s soldiers wore red uniforms. The elves were making me one, the idea being that I’d blend in and pass through the fortress unquestioned. But there was something else Vlarni told me.

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The Plan

“There’s a garden there. Trees everywhere with lights in them.”

“What, you mean candles?”

“Not candles, the light came from inside somehow. Maybe it’ll make sense to you, I’m just a bird, but you have to cross that garden to go either way – up, where Rathi is, or down, where the children are. Where the Krampus is.”

“You saw him...the Krampus?”

“No...but I did see the children. It broke my heart to see them, starved, dirty...”

“Bird, you are the raven of Wotan, but more tender than a baby!”

“It was you rescued me as a baby, so maybe you’ll have some tenderness for children kept in filth and chains. If nothing else, your mission is good and right, to set them free. The Krampus’ lair branches off from their dungeon, a tunnel going back into some sort of cave.”

Snorri said, “Our spies what’ve seen him say the Krampus often seems distracted, dulled somehow by Rathi’s enchantment. The enchantment that binds him hangs around his neck in the form of a jewel. That’s the source of Rathi’s control. Of course, there’s no way of knowing what’d happen if the necklace was off, if that would be a better or even worse situation for you, him unbound.”

“Necklace or not, he can be killed? The Krampus?”

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“Oh, yes, a sword through the heart would lay him down. The Krampus is a demon all right, but he is in a body of this world. You won’t kill his soul, I suppose you’d call it, but you’d get rid of him for the moment. He’d go back to wherever Rathi conjured him from.”

“And Rathi?”

“Rathi’s a terror, but more or less mortal. Creep up, stick a sword in him, and be done. Fill your pockets with loot.”

I had to take a deep breath. Part of me was scared, yes, I’ll admit it. But the bigger part, the warrior, the thief, the ferocious Viking welcomed my chance for glory in battle, and to get rich too. “When do we leave?”

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The See-Through Fortress

chapter 13

The See-Through Fortress

T

he moon was a sliver. Vlarni was tucked inside the coat of

Fenris, and we rode on Donner. My coat and pants were stuffed with straw, like Hairy Britches did to keep warm. Two swords were strapped to my back. With Fenris’ coat on me, I could see through wolf eyes. The night scene below appeared brightly lit, like mid-day.

We flew and flew, above a frozen river. Along its bank the forest was spoilt, trees chopped down and burnt, the refuse of Rathi’s war machine. We came to a snow-covered plain, and set in the distance was the fortress.

It was indeed impenetrable from the ground, because it wasn’t there. I mean, of course it was there, Rathi’s stronghold. You could see it was five, six stories tall. But the bottom part of it was transparent, see-through, not there. It was only around the third floor

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that it was visible. Rathi’s magic made it so there was no way to find a door in. It was a forbidding sight, isolated on a cold plain, ringed round with outriders and guardhouses. A stealth building! But we could see the roof, and we landed there. Four big chimneys popped up out of it.

“We made good time.” Vlarni said.

“Maybe too good.” I was touching the side of one of the chimneys.

It was warm. Very warm.

Fenris spoke to me in my head: We’re early. The scent of meat roasting carried on the smoke wafting from the chimneys.

Vlarni flew up to the edge of one, peering down. “Yes, fire going there.” He flew to the other chimneys, one by one. “All of ‘em lit.” I could hear, through Fenris’ sensitive ears, the laughter of the feast, the sizzle and pop of meat over blazing fire. But it was freezing on the roof, even with Fenris’ coat around me. Donner was an animal of the cold lands, made for it. Vlarni kept to the edge of the chimney, catching heat that way. But my teeth chattered. If I had to stay like this for hours, I’d freeze to death.

Fenris helped me. He said, Best settle in. Put your back up against the chimney, it’s warm. Don’t worry, we’re with you. Have the Reindeer King come here , if you please. Fenris instructed Donner to lie down across me, as much as he was able to without crushing me. The body

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heat of Donner, the coat of Fenris, and the chimney against my back warmed me. I even dozed off fitfully. I dreamt. I dreamt of things yet to come, things I wouldn’t even recognize till they came to pass, centuries later: rockets to the moon, airplanes, skyscrapers. And people like I’d never seen...black, brown, yellow, all sorts of people from all sorts of places. I dreamt of the whole big world and my place in it. I dreamt of a sword in my hand, my hand red with blood, and I saw my hand let go of the sword.

I woke up with a start. I didn’t know where I was for a moment.

Still, I felt good inside. Something in that dream had touched me. I felt I was being shown the way. And better, I felt that what I was doing was somehow right.

Fenris growled in my head, It is right. But hang onto the sword a little bit longer. Like he’d seen the dream too. Maybe he had, since we were bound.

Vlarni perched on my knee and said, “It’s time.”

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The Way Down

chapter 14

The Way Down

I

could see some glowing embers, and heat was still coming up,

but nothing like the roaring fire before. Fenris said: Look to the east.

You have to go now. He was right, the sun was rising. It would be dawn soon.

“They’ll see us up here, Rathi has riders out all the time,” Vlarni said.

Fenris said, I am with you, cut-throat killer, demon slayer.

Vlarni encouraged, “Treasure’s dripping from the walls in there!”

Donner said, “Be brave, Finehair, you can do it!”

I put handfuls of snow inside with the straw in my clothes, so it’d melt, and wet the straw as I descended. I got my Viking blood up.

“You animals don’t know who you’re dealing with. I am Nikolai, son of the Rus!” I beat my chest.

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“That’s the spirit!” Donner stamped his hoof. Vlarni cawed, obbed his head, and the coat of Fenris tightened around me.

I tied a long rope to the chimney, gripped it, and heaved myself over the side. The heat was stifling. My back braced against the hot stone, clumps of soot falling all around me, I descended. It was torturous, but I made good progress till I felt myself get jammed. “I’m stuck! It’s the swords!” The swords strapped to my back were making me too wide.

“You have to get them off!” Vlarni called from atop the chimney.

“I have to undo the straps...” I felt panic. I wiggled my hands around to the straps, and loosened them enough to drop one. “Ah, gods, do I just drop it? They’ll hear!”

“Believe me, they’ll be drunk, passed out.” Vlarni had flown down and sat on my shoulder.

Fenris said, Calm now, calm, we’re breaking into the henhouse. Drop the sword. I felt the sword give and skitter down the wall, landing with a mercifully quiet thud. Good, good, Fenris said. Maybe you only need drop the one. I had enough wiggle room to move down a bit more, but the other sword was still catching, wedging me in. It seemed like the chimney narrowed the lower I went.

“No, they both have to go.” I raised my other shoulder, my muscles trembling with the effort, and then the second sword was gone, land-

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ing with an alarming clang. I thought at any moment the warriors below would look up into the chimney to see where these swords’d fallen from. “They’re sure to hear that!” But there was no alarm, the way must be clear. Without the swords it was easier, but the heat became more and more intense as I lowered. Fenris didn’t talk any more, the only sound was my own labored breathing. Suddenly I fell, landing with a thud in the hot embers of the fire. I rolled out into the cool air of the feast hall. I should‘ve gotten right up and made for cover, but I was so spent I just lay on my back for a moment, gazing up at the high vaulted ceiling.

I was in.

Long tables were covered with plates piled high with bones, empty mead casks, goblets strewn on the floor. All around were drunk, snoring warriors. Pulling the steaming hot straw from my clothing, I flung it onto the remains of the fire. It caught, burnt, and was gone.

I found the swords in the fireplace. They were hot. I had to wait precious moments for them to cool enough to handle. I was so hungry.

It’d been hours since I’d eaten anything. But there was no more food, the warriors’d eaten it all. There was nothing left except a plate of pastries and a skin of something, wine I hoped. By then the swords’d cooled enough to strap back in place across my back.

I hid behind a tapestry, invisible in the shadows and Fenris’ coat. I

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took a swig from the skin - it wasn’t wine, but goat milk. It was good and filling. I wolfed down the pastries and the goat milk.

“Cookies and milk,” Jackie says, back in the diner.

“Cookies and milk,” Nikolai laughs.

“But how did that become kids leaving you cookies and milk?”

“Well, you tell one person a story, they tell another, it gets twisted around. It finds a life of its own. And then you have cookies and milk left out for Santa. It’s the same with the chimney!”

“What, you don’t go down chimneys any more?”

“Oh no. That’d take forever! And I barely survived the one in Rathi’s fort. But that’s how these things get changed and become whatever they become.”

“Legends.”

“Yes, I suppose so. Anyway, there I was eating cookies and milk, hiding behind this tapestry. ‘Now what?’ I asked Vlarni.”

“This way to Rathi,” he said.

We exited the feast hall. I followed Vlarni down a corridor. Turning a corner, we had to stop short. While all the rest of the fortress lay in a stupor, Rathi’s personal bodyguards were wide awake. Four of them were posted at the door to his tower. They couldn’t see me with Fenris’ coat on, and I thought I could take them all, but the wolf advised: If you miss one, if they raise an alarm, you’ll have to fight them,

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Rathi, the Krampus, all of them at once. No, that is not wolf style. Carve your prey away from the herd. One at a time is the way. Down first, to the Krampus.

“We have to go through the garden I told you about,” Vlarni said, as we descended a flight of torchlit stairs. “Wait till you see! Don’t worry, the warriors never come here.”

Fenris growled: Maybe something’s keeping them away. But I wasn’t listening. Because what I saw took my breath away.

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The Garden of Jewels

chapter 15

The Garden of Jewels

T

his wide hall was high-ceilinged and arched, floored in stone,

the walls of varnished wood. It was filled with pine trees planted in big pots. Multi-colored, dazzling points of light in the tree-branches filled the hall with a soft glow. Through a cunning series of mirrors, Rathi had sunlight directed in there, just to make the trees light up.

Fenris said, I see trees, I see light, but I don’t see the sun. What is this place?

“I don’t know, but those lights...so many, all in colors.” The lights were jewels, precious stones big as eggs, shaped as teardrops, as pyramids, as globes. The mirrored sunlight was split into colorful beams

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by their facets. “There’s a fortune here, just in this room!”

I was busy ogling the pricey ornaments but Fenris was wary. He growled, Rrrrrrghthis is wrong. Why would you leave all this treasure alone in a house full of greedy soldiers? You saw those warriors, swords for hire. Such a treasure’d sorely tempt them. Why leave the henhouse unguarded? Take a deep breath, Viking, through the nose. I sniffed deep, and I myself smelled nothing. But Fenris cried: Ah, no! Beware! Beware!

That’s when I heard the growls. Dogs – snarling dogs.The biggest dogs I’d ever seen, three of ‘em, with spiked collars, bigger than any of Fenris’ pack. I fell back, pressing up against the wall, drawing my swords. “How can they see me, aren’t I supposed to have invisible wolf powers?”

They are dogs, they are like me, Fenris said. They see their own kind.

Vlarni dove at their heads, pecking at their eyes. He distracted them, but only for the moment. I could understand their dog language, but I didn’t know what to say to them to get them to leave off.

A man in the hall!

Kill the man! Eat the man!

Fenris said: Don’t move. Don’t do anything. Vlarni landed on my shoulder, spreading his wings, cawing at the dogs. The beasts were solid muscle and fang. I could take one down maybe, but three at

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once? They’d rip me to shreds. I was figuring to give it my best shot, picking which to strike first, when Fenris said, I know what to say to talk our way out of this. Let me take control of you.

“Fenris, I...ach –” Something was changing in my throat.

Don’t argue, they’ll tear you apart, even with those swords. But me...we’re all dogs...let me talk to them.

“Talk to them?” I felt Fenris take control of my voice and the next thing I knew I was howling: AROOOO! The puzzled dogs all stopped snapping and gaped at me, panting, their tongues hanging down.

Fenris spoke to them through me. Hear me, dog-brothers, I am Fenris of the Wolf Clan! Do not harm one of your own!

The dogs blinked, not knowing what to make of this. One stepped forward warily. I gripped my sword handles, ready to strike. No, be calm now, they’re curious. Breathe deeply and stay your sword, Finehair.

Learn from the master...

The lead dog sniffed at me, asking, How can a human speak in dog?

This is no ordinary human. This is... Fenris searched for the right words.

“Tell them I’m good,” I told him. “Tell them what Rathi wants to do...”

This is a man sent here to kill your master!

The dog said: Kill the master? Why would we allow that? We will kill

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this man! Rrrrrarrrgh! The dog growled and sputtered.

No, no, the master, your master, he’s evil, he’s planning terrible things.

Surely you have seen, heard terrible things here?

We see nothing, we see only the garden and the Man and the girl who brings our food every day.

The girl – the girl must be a slave. Do you know what a slave is?

We know nothing of slaves. We only know the garden and the Man and the girl, there is nothing else.

A slave is someone kept against their will to do the will of others. The girl, is she kind to you?

The girl is the only human we know, except him who trained us. The Man. I imagined the Man as the dog’s trainer, some soldier handy with animals.

Is he good to you, the Man? The Man beats us, the Man kicks us! The Man, he taught us to kill strangers! Rarrrragh! The dog lost control, moving up closer, barking wildly, snapping at me, its training taking over.

I raised the sword to him, but now I felt Fenris take over not only my voice, but my movements. I fell to my knees, dropped the sword, spread my arms wide. Stay out of it, I’m your only chance, the pack’ll kill you, Fenris told me. To the dogs, he said: Kill him if you must, I give you his throat. My head twisted to one side, exposing my neck. I was

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Fenris’ puppet, baring my throat to these slavering killers!

“Are you crazy?” I said. “They’ll rip my throat out!”

Shut up, and let me talk. To the dogs, he said, Do what you will, but hear me first, my brothers, I beg of you.

The lead dog said, All right, we’ll hear you and then we’ll kill him.

Fenris ignored the threat, continuing, The Man, you fear him?

He is the maker of fear and pain, the dog repeated.

But the girl is kind?

The girl brings food, we like her. Others, men who come into this hall, we show no mercy, we rip them to bits, we chew them up! The bloodthirsty brutes nodded in agreement, wagging their stubby tails at the thought. The girl brings food and water. And sometimes she scratches our ears.

The second dog said, That’s nice.

The third said, It is! It’s so nice! She is the ear-scratcher! The girl is nice, we never kill the girl!

Fenris said, That girl you love so well is a slave. You are slaves, slaves of the Man. Made to do things you don’t want to do. Really, do you want to rip out the throats of total strangers? Killing a deer in the forest, that’s one thing, you have to do it to eat, but to do it because a human tells you to, to do it not to eat...

Oh, we eat them!

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Humans are tasty!

Wotan’s blood, and me with my throat bared! But Fenris would’ve been a good lawyer making his case. Have you never et a deer, brothers?

Have you never felt the thrill of a hunt in the open forest?

There is only the hall, said the first beast.

Oh no, there is not only the hall. The Man has denied you truth, he tells you lies! Where we come from, the human, the raven...have you ever seen a raven before, my brothers?

No, we thought him a magic thing.

He’s not magic, he’s a beast of the air. They fly through the blue sky. Yes, there’s a big, blue sky! There’s a fat, warm, yellow sun, there’s...oh my brothers, my heart breaks for you! Never to see forests, to slake your thirst from running rivers, to taste sweet, clean air. Never to be free!

What is free?

Yes, what is it? The dogs were paying attention now.

Free’s when you do what you want. Free is denied you here, free is denied the girl. Do you love the girl?

What is it, love?

When the girl scratches your ears, that’s love.

Ah, then we like love.

Fenris asked, What if there were a world of ear-scratching, and not beating and kicking?

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Now the dogs were getting interested. Is it a big world?

Bigger than you can imagine.

We thought the whole world was the hall. Does the girl come from the big world?

Yes, but the girl’s imprisoned here, like you. We want to set her free. We want to set you free.

The dog said, The Man beats us when we do our business here in the hall. The Man makes the girl clean it, but the Man rubs our noses in it first.

If there’s another place that’s not the hall, can we pee without getting beaten?

Can we poop without getting our noses rubbed in it?

Fenris laughed, Ha! Oh yes, yes, my brothers! Poop all you want, pee in tall grass, no masters to beat you for what’s natural!

It is natural, isn’t it?

Fenris said, It is! Oh my brothers, there is nothing more natural!

The dogs were thrilled to find somebody to sympathize with about their problems with the Man. What are we supposed to do?

There’s only the hall! We have to go here, but the Man rubs our noses in it, the Man kicks us!

Fenris agreed, When you have to go, you have to go!

Now the dogs were wagging their tails, coming up to me, sniffing me, seeking Fenris. Where are you, brother?

I’m in the coat the human wears.

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The dogs drew back, whining and cringing. The lead dog whimpered, But you are a ghost, brother!

I am in the half-life between here and the Ever Again. I’m here, with this human. I’ve taken him over. We’ve heard of your master – not the Man who beats you, but the one Rathi, the one your Man works for, and his creature, the Krampus. They’ll destroy the forest and the green grass, and kind girls who’d scratch your ears and love you if only they had the chance. This Rathi only sees dogs as slaves to kill his foes and then be kicked for seeing to their natural needs. Let my human succeed in his mission, then you’ll be free, like me, like the raven! Free to run the forests, free to hunt! The dogs were confused, but Fenris was getting through to them. Free to poop where you want!

The dog’s tails began to wag, and they repeated, quietly at first, then louder: Free, free, freeeeee! They stopped abruptly, looking at something behind me, wagging their tails harder than ever. I turned my head to see what it was.

She was skinny, starved in this prison. She was in dirty rags and wore thin stockings against the cold floor. She looked almost Rus, except where our eyes are blue, her eyes were a certain shade of violet. She carried a bucket filled with rank meat and slops. She had to be the girl the dogs spoke of, the ear-scratcher who fed them. She was a slave, yes, but she carried herself with dignity and grace.

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With Fenris’ coat on, she couldn’t see me. Without thinking, I took it off. Her eyes widened at the sight of me, but she didn’t scream or raise an alarm. “Oh no,” she said. “But it’s feeding time.”

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Katja

chapter 16

Katja

B

ack in the diner, Nikolai says, “I remember that moment like

yesterday. Her face in the colored light...”

“The colored light?” Jackie asks. “From the jewels? Hung on the trees?”

“Yes, lit by mirrors.”

“Lit like Christmas lights?”

“Exactly like Christmas lights.”

“Were there strings of popcorn on the trees? I’m waiting for the explanation for that.”

“I have no idea where that one came from, we didn’t even have corn then. Anyway, this girl stared at me and finally said, ‘Are you going to kill me, thief?”

“I’m not a thief, I’m here to set you free. I’m Nikolai Finehair, of

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the Rus.” “Hello, Nikolai Finehair of the Rus. I’m Katja. I was from the village down by the river, but that seems ages ago. If you’re not a thief, and you’re not one of Rathi’s men, who are you?” I wasn’t sure how much to reveal. Vlarni looked at her curiously. Smiling, she held her hand out to him, saying, “Oh, what a pretty bird!” He flew over, perching on her finger. “He’s heavier than he looks! Hello, bird!”

Vlarni said, “I like her. Maybe she can help us.”

So I told her my mission. Katja said, “It’s hard to believe, yet here you stand in a wolf’s coat, and with a raven. And you do look all burnt up from the chimney.”

“Here! Try him on!” I wrapped her up in Fenris’ coat and she vanished from sight, but could still be heard.

“Ahh! He’s talking to me!” she said.

“Yes, he can talk to you in your head.”

She and Fenris had a talk. We heard only her side of it, with pauses when Fenris spoke in her head. “I think so too. Can I? I think I could. It’s all I’ve thought about, all any of us think about. Yes. All right.” She took off the coat, reappearing. “He’s a persuasive fellow, your friend Fenris.” She narrowed her eyes, looking me over. “You do look a killer. All right. If he thinks you can do it, so do I.” Back in the diner, Nikolai tells Jackie, “I liked her at once. Really

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liked her, you know what I mean?”

Jackie remembers Tommy’s father, the first time she saw him. “I do, Santa Claus.”

“Well, she was all brass at that point. She said, ‘All right then, come on.’ I asked where we were going.”

“To the children. Put the coat back on, your wolf’ll tell you what he thinks.”

Fenris laid it out for me: She’s not only in charge of the dogs. She’s the leader of the children, the eldest. I’ve got a new plan. First, we must be rid of the Man the dogs talk about.

The dogs capered around in front of us as we walked. Fenris had a role in the plan for them too. The lead dog asked, When do we do it, wolf brother, when do we do it?

I will tell you. May it give you satisfaction!

Oh it will, it will!

Fenris continued: The Man carries the keys to their prison. If nothing else, we must set them free, these children and my dog brothers. I ‘m serious, my brothers must escape! We kill this jailer, give these young humans the keys, and the girl will show us where the Krampus is. First him, then Rathi. Even if we fail, the cage will be opened. At least some of them will get away.

We’d gone through a hidden door off the garden hall into a very

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different sort of place. Where the garden was elaborate, all lacquered wood and polished marble, this was a torch-lit stone passage, dank, dirty, damp. “Through here is the way to our jail, he only lets me out to feed the dogs,” Katja said.

“The Krampus...have you seen him?”

“He brings the plans to the workshop.”

“What do you mean, what plans, what workshop?”

“Rathi lets no one sit idle. He has our parents building his war machines, and he has us building toys.”

“Toys?”

“Yes, Rathi’s evil to the core, but has a child’s love for toys. War toys mostly. Right now he has us building a fleet of toy ships for him, in miniature. The Krampus brings us plans, I guess they come to him from Rathi. Some of them are actually quite nice, quite well done.

Every once in a while something pretty slips in too, which is odd, given the source.” She absently scratched one of the dogs’ ears, its tail thwacked against her legs. Vlarni rode on her shoulder. Like me, he was fond of her immediately. Rounding a turn in the corridor, Katja hushed us. “Hsst, quiet now, this is where he sits. And you mustn’t kill him.”

“Why not? He’s cruel to you, to the dogs.”

“He’s mean and awful, but killing, it’s a sin.”

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I had no idea what a sin was, but I promised. We turned the corner. On a stool outside of a heavy cell door sat a fat, scraggly-bearded toad of a person, the master of the dogs, the Man. He wore a ring of keys in his belt, and a knotted whip.

“What is this? Why are the dogs with you? Where’d you get that bird? Who were you talking to, I heard voices in the corridor?” He got to his feet on short, stumpy legs, grasping the whip. The dogs stood there for a moment, looking at him happily, their tails wagging. Then one came forward, raised its leg, and peed on the wall!

“Why, you filthy cur! I’ll teach you!” But the dog stood its ground, wagging its tail.

Strike now, Fenris said. I stepped behind the jailer, braining him with the pommel of my sword. He pitched forward on his face, out. I unhooked the key ring from his belt.

“That one,” Katja said. I slid a key into the lock on the thick door.

It swung open on creaky hinges. I dragged the jailer inside, to a strange world of both misery and play. It was dirty, wet and smelled bad, the smell of too many people crammed together for too long.

But there were tables filled with marvelous toys. Dolls, spinning tops, jack-in-boxes, and many, many boats of every color and style: our own Viking longships, Arab dhows, Chinese junks, Roman barques, Egyptian rafts, a whole navy. Everywhere were ships in

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progress being worked on by a small army of grimy children. They shrank back at the sight of the dogs, not to mention Vlarni, and the unconscious jailer being dragged by invisible me. They ducked under the tables, cowering. “No, it’s all right, they won’t hurt you,” Katja reassured them. “There’s someone here...a warrior.” She told me, “You should show yourself.” I took off Fenris. The children gasped as I appeared out of nowhere. “He’s come to set us free. Now help me tie up this tub before he wakes up.” The children were frightened at

first, can you blame them? Invisible Vikings appearing out of nowhere, their oppressor, the Man, helpless, it was all a lot to take in.

I thought I’d help the process along, so I told them, “Look, he’s gone sleepy-bye and he wants a night-night dolly.” I stuck one of the toy dolls in the unconscious Man’s arms. “Now he’s happy! So tuck him in, eh?”

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The children looked to Katja. “You heard him.” First one then another began to giggle, then they eagerly roped up the Man. I put a gag in his mouth to stop him yelling when he came to. They came closer, dozens of them crowding me, goggling at me.

But then there was a noise, far away down the hall, a clomping.

A hoof falling on cold stone. Katja ran to the door, closed it, turning the bolt with the key. The children were terrified, scattering back to their worktables. Katja turned to me, the first time I saw her look scared. “He’s coming!” she whispered.

“Who?” “The Krampus!”

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chapter 17

Game Time

K

atja was good in a tight spot. She told the children, “Get

back to work, and don’t say a word.” We stuffed the unconscious Man under a table, tossing a dirty blanket over him. She ordered the dogs hidden under another table. They were frightened of the Krampus, the fur up on their backs, their ears back, their tails between their legs. Vlarni perched in a dark corner, his black feathers blending into the shadows. I put on Fenris’ coat, and vanished. Katja joined the children working on the toy navy, all of them acting as if nothing unusual was going on. The clomping steps stopped, the door opened.

The Krampus was seven feet tall, at least. He looked much big-

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ger in person than he had in the elves’ orb! His nasty, long tongue slurped out of his fanged mouth, like a snake tasting the air. His wrists were in heavy iron shackles, joined by a long chain. He was manacled, but with plenty of room to move his arms. A necklace made out of some sort of tree root was round his throat, and bound in its strands was a red jewel. This was the necklace the elves spoke of, that bound the Krampus to Rathi. His breathing was husky, wet, labored. He carried an air of both terrible menace and of a person crushed under a weight. What a foul thing! Fenris said.

Katja stepped up to face the Krampus. She was brave! “Well?”

When he spoke it was with a raspy, hissing tone. “Make your choices, he wants you.”

A few minutes later, we were in the corridor again, Katja, me, and a group of twenty boys and girls. She’d chosen the strongest, and least starved looking, for what purpose I had no idea. At least it was clear Fenris’ coat worked with the Krampus. He didn’t see me, I was safe, invisible. Vlarni stayed hidden in the shadows of the workroom, so it was just Fenris and I along. We arrived once again at the entry to Rathi’s tower. The red-uniformed guards bowed to the Krampus, opening the heavy door. Inside the tower, a spiral staircase around the edges went up, up, up. The Krampus led the way. Finally the stair ended in an ornate door, red like the uniforms of the guards that

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stood watch. Our ragtag group shuffled in, into the den of Rathi.

There was a solid gold throne for a mad king. Here was a perfumed bedchamber with huge canopied bed, rich tapestries on the walls, and gold candlesticks on ornate tables by the bedside. There was a long dining room, the table filled with bowls of fruit, cakes, and pastries. And toys everywhere: dolls, wagons, hoops, wooden swords, horses, everything a child could want. And then there was the strangest room of all, a world unto itself. It was a very large room, the high ceiling painted like blue sky. A tiny sun hung over it, bright as day, a ball of yellow light and heat, just like our own sun, floating free. This miniature sun lit a miniature world laid out in the center of the room. It was like a model train layout, but much bigger, more detailed and realistic, filling the room. There were rolling, green hills, a thick forest, and a big lake of real water. There was even weather: fluffy clouds drifting over the land. By the lake stood a village, with little houses and streets. A ship lay at anchor off the village pier. On the other side of the lake another ship sat. These two ships were kitted out for war, shields on the sides, and curious devices, like cannons, rigged on their foredecks. Close by the forest, the earth was scorched, scattered with wreckage, the signs of a recent battle. I realized this entire fantastic world was for simulating war.

I noticed movement in the little village. It was mice! Mice walking

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on their hind legs, wearing clothes, like people. They swarmed out of the houses, running to the quay as they saw our group loom like giants on the horizon.

“Ah! Are you ready?” I nearly jumped out of my skin, the voice came from right behind me! I turned and saw Rathi for the first time.

I was shocked at how young he looked, how small. He wore red, like his palace guard, but a darker shade, like dried blood. He had finely wrought chain mail over his clothing, a leopard fur vest and a cape clasped with silver chain. Up close, his ears were slightly pointed.

Though a child, he radiated cold power and assurance. He was like a coiled snake, ready to strike.

There they were, both in the same room, my targets, Rathi and the Krampus! Fenris said, Rrrrgh, so close, so unaware! Can you take the one, then the other? Rathi was behind me, and the Krampus separated from me by the group of children and Katja. I quietly unsheathed a sword.

But Katja suddenly rushed between Rathi and I. She couldn’t have known, she had no idea where I was at that point, her only aim was to confront him. “You’re a sick thing! Why do you think children can fight like soldiers? Look at them, they’re half-dead! How can you call this a fair fight?” His red costumed guards moved in, surrounding Rathi, but he pushed them aside, answering Katja.

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“You know the stakes. If you win, then it’s freedom for you and yours. If it gets too much, you can always surrender...and besides, it’s fun.”

“Fun! Fun? Children have died!”

“That’s why it’s fun! Anyway, you need to be a better commander.

After all, you’re in charge,” he told her.

“Then...then I surrender now! How’s that?”

“Oh, that’s against the rules, you have to try. Now gather your wits and gather your forces. It’s game time.”

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Into The Miniature World

chapter 18

Into The Miniature World

T

he Krampus shoved Katja back with the children, herding

them onto a green field in the miniature landscape. Rathi joined them. I stepped onto the field too, hoping to reach Rathi, but couldn’t in the press of the small crowd. The Krampus began mouthing weird gibberish, a spell. His eyes glowed a sick yellow. Something came out of his hands, rays of colored light, shifting, hazy, like a poisonous fog.

Rathi smiled, bowing his head, as if basking in the sun at the beach.

Katja and the children looked sick, like they knew something bad was going to happen, and the room...

What is this? Fenris growled. The room is growing? But the room wasn’t growing. We were shrinking. The Krampus stayed the same size, but the rest of us shrank. The children moaned. I felt ill. Rathi looked happy and carefree, immune to the sickening effect. As we

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got smaller and smaller, the Krampus became a giant over our heads, mumbling incantations. When we stopped shrinking, we stood on a grassy plain a short distance from the water. Rathi straightened his sleeves. Everyone else, including me, was laid out on the ground, dizzy and nauseous. Rathi briskly commanded Katja, “Well? March on! Down by the seaside! It’s ships today, with Greek fire.”

“Ugh, you horrible little child,” she said, under her queasy breath.

“Horrible perhaps, little definitely, at the moment...but child?”

Rathi moved to her, looking in her eyes. Though I was on my knees with dizziness, now was the time to skewer him! But my head reeled still, I couldn’t get to my feet in time. Rathi leaned in close to Katja.

“Child? Oh, not exactly. You should think twice before you scold me, little girl.” He hissed at her horribly, like a snake, and she shrank back. Rathi smiled, pleased to frighten her. “But win the day and go free. We meet in the lake.”

My head finally clearing, I struggled to my feet. But before I could strike, Rathi called up to the Krampus. “Hey, you! To the boat, let’s go!” The Krampus’ giant hand lowered down. Rathi stepped onto it, was lifted up, then delicately placed into the distant village of the mice.

Katja sighed, her shoulders slumping. She faced the children.

“Well...let’s go, then.” Without breaking the cadence of her speech, in case the Krampus or anyone else was listening, she addressed me.

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“I don’t know if you’re here, but if you are we’d be glad of your help.”

“I’m with you. I wanted to get him just then, but I felt sickened.”

“It’s the getting small does it.”

“I won’t miss him again.”

“May you have your chance.” Our little group began to march across the green fields. The clouds drifted over, casting shadows on the grass. “Rathi tests his ideas for war here, in a world of his own making. The ships we fight on are like the ships he has our parents building. Last week, we had to fight a battle with sleds with catapults on them...and Greek fire, he’s very fond of that.”

“What is Greek fire?”

“A kind of liquid fire from the ancients. Rathi’s war designs are ingenious. He tries them out on us. He’s made it a game, between us and him. I’m the oldest survivor. We’ve had many leaders and they’ve all fallen here. Now I’m in charge, till it’s my turn to fall.” She looked glum, then brightened. “But now you’re here, warrior!”

We arrived at the lake, where our ship bobbed, tied to a dock. On deck were a few of the mice I’d glimpsed in the village. These were dressed as warriors and sailors, walking on two legs, busying themselves with securing the ship for battle. They were dressed in little versions of the same red uniform I had on, the uniform of Rathi’s army. “Ugh, the mice,” Katja said. “They’re so disgusting. Just keep

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quiet now. They’ll go over the rules and then they’ll hand over the ship to us.”

“What, they can speak?”

“Oh, yes, they’re filthy little talkers! Now come on.”

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Battle At Sea

chapter 19

Battle At Sea

O

ne of the mice spoke to Katja, in a rough voice. “She’s

shipshape and ready to go. There’s the Greek fire loaded in the hold.

Bring a couple of your boys. I’ll show you how to work it.” Katja motioned to two boys, the mouse pointed them to a two-sided handle.

“One on either end, start pumping, laddies! Brisk now!” The boys did as told, and the mouse stepped up to the strange cannon mounted on the deck. To Katja he said, “Look here, girlie, here’s the trigger.” He held it down and a gout of flame stretched over the water. “You have one, he has one. Range depends on how fast you pump. You’d probably double the distance with strong lads at the handles. The rest of it, we’ve laid out spears, bows and arrows, shields, helmets, the usual.

Nice spike on the prow, handy if you want to ram, but then it’s close quarters. Don’t know how that’ll work when you’re mixing it up

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with us mice.” He smiled, twirling his whiskers. “Mice what shows no mercy...”

Katja said, “And where’s the white flag of surrender?”

“At the bottom of the mast, but you know you can’t just surrender right away, it’s...”

“I know, it’s against the rules, he wants us to try. He is a cruel thing.”

“To the bone, missy. See you on the high seas, then,” the mouse said, strolling off.

Katja sighed. But I was excited! “You have a Viking with you now! We’ll cut Rathi to pieces in a ship like this.” A wind picked up, the sails filled, the ropes were cast off, and we slid away from the dock. Far away, on the other side of the lake, Rathi’s ship likewise launched. Cheers and hoots came from the village, bells rang. The foredecks of the distant ship swarmed with warrior mice. There was a ball of flame as they tested out their own wicked fire cannon. I fell to command. “Get two of your fittest on the pump, make sure that fire thing’s ready up. The rest of you, stand by the ropes.”

Katja said, “Maybe we have a chance this time, with you. Whenever we face Rathi, it’s terrible. Last week we lost five of us.”

“Children died?” I asked her.

“Oh yes. Children will die today too, most likely, unless you’re

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as good as you say. He won’t accept surrender until some damage is done.”

“Why does he do it?” “ You heard him. It’s fun for him. He’s itching to do it on a grand scale, with men instead of mice, but for now he loves playing at it with us as his foes. And he doesn’t play fair.”

“I won’t, either,” I said. “But I have to get on board his ship.”

“How?” “We’ll ram him. Like the mouse said, this ship has a fine prow for that. But the children’ll have to fight his mice.”

“For a chance to kill Rathi? Oh, they’ll fight.”

Far overhead, the Krampus, a colossus astride the green field, stared unblinking into space. He wasn’t looking for a stowaway Viking, so it was safe for me to take off Fenris’ coat so my crew could see me. “Listen to me. If we can close with Rathi’s boat, board him, we can win the day. I’ll put a blade in him once and for all. But you’ll have to fight. Will you? To end him?” I’d like to tell you they cheered and beat swords on shields, like in a movie, but they mostly just nodded grimly, starved and weak as they were.

The wind drove our ships closer together. I put Fenris’ coat back on. Katja took the wheel. Our cannon blew a bolt of fire across Rathi’s bow. His helmsman dodged, but had to bare his midships

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to us. I could see Rathi on the foredeck. At first he looked amused, then alarmed, as our intention to ram him became clear. A stream of Greek fire spat from his cannon, lighting our sail. But we didn’t

break course. In flames, bearing down on them like the wrath of Wotan, we struck home.

Our bow caught them amidships. With a satisfying crunch, we rode up, snapping their rails and settling above their deck. Now the children cheered, they were game all right!

Our burning sail crumbled over, lighting Rathi’s. The children rushed over the rails. I put Fenris’ coat back on and joined them, seeking Rathi. I saw him, going for the fire cannon. But bad luck

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stepped in. I passed by the mast, where a nail was sticking out. It caught the coat of Fenris, popping open the clasp. Poof, suddenly I was visible! Rathi didn’t see me, he was busy scrambling to the cannon, but the astonished mice did. Their devilish black eyes widened, then narrowed to slits. If mice could smile, they would’ve. They had me outnumbered twelve to one. But they’d never faced a Viking before. I was smiling too! Then the battle was joined in a rush of swords.

I felled three right off the mark, but these rodents knew what they were doing. They were hard to put down. More saw what was going on and joined in, so now I was fighting I don’t know how many. I called for Wotan to help me win the day, the mice were getting to me through sheer force of numbers.

And Wotan came through, in the form of Vlarni the raven. But not regular-sized Vlarni. This was a giant Vlarni, dwarfing the ships, the mice, and me. He’d followed us after all. The Krampus, still deep in his trance, gave no sign of seeing him. He saved me from the mouse horde, picking up the warriors in his talons, dropping them in the water. But Rathi turned the Greek fire cannon on the poor bird’s tail-feathers. With a squawk, Vlarni flew off.

Now there were fewer mice to slow me down, but Rathi’d gained the cannon, and new rodents joined the fray against me. We were

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toward the stern, still unseen by Rathi. He was laughing, gloating, calling out to Katja: “You’re bold, girl, you’re bold! Ramming my ship – I wasn’t expecting that! And where’d that bird come from? Somebody must’ve left a window open! But now – surrender or I fry all of ye!”

I was so close! But the mice forced me back, back. I was against a door and then we all tumbled down, the warrior mice and I, into the hold of the ship. I cut at them, laying them down one by one. But as they fell, they blocked the door. I struggled to clear them away, so I could rush Rathi.

Suddenly, I had a queasy feeling, the same as I had felt when shrinking. I was growing! I was growing too big to get out the door!

The door-frame cracked, splintering under pressure from my expanding body. The Krampus was returning us to our normal size.

Thank Wotan, the coat of Fenris was where it’d fallen. I put it back on, vanishing before I was seen.

We crushed the ships beneath us, then were standing in the ocean like giants. The mice were left behind, thrashing in the water, swimming for shore. The growing made me as sick as the shrinking.

I found I was next to Katja, both driven to our knees by nausea. “I couldn’t get to him,” I whispered.

“He had us in his sights, he would have burnt us all alive, no mis-

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take. I had to surrender,” she said quietly, the moans of the sickened children all around us. The white flag was still in her hand.

Rathi’s lips curled in a mean smile. “That was well fought, girlie.

Unlike you to have a sneaky plan like that. If I didn’t know better I’d say you had help.” He stopped abruptly, closed his eyes, sniffed the air.

He’s smelling for magic, Fenris said. The Krampus too seemed to know something was off. He held his arms wide, palms outstretched, seeking me in vain. But they can’t scent us, Fenris said with relief.

Rathi shrugged. “Mmm...all right then...I suppose you do have some imagination. But not enough to win your freedom, I’m afraid.

Back to jail. And I want you to build me some new ships.”

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The Living Necklace

chapter 20

The Living Necklace

T

he Krampus walked us back to the dungeon, his hoof thud-

ding on the flagstones. He carried something rolled up, a chart of some kind. He looked around suspiciously, hissing, “Where is the jailer? Where are the dogs?” The jailer, of course, was still bound and gagged under the table, and the dogs were hiding.

She had nerves of steel, Katja. “I have no idea,” she said. “The jailer’s drunk again, probably. Or maybe he took the dogs for a walk.

Do you have another plan for a toy for us?”

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The Krampus was still looking around, but snapped out of it. “A plan, yes...another ship for...for Rathi.” His behavior was weird, he seemed drugged, or sleepwalking. He handed Katja the plan.

She unrolled it, looking it over. Her face softened. “It’s lovely.

Another lovely toy. Whoever designs them is a genius. Rathi, he’ll probably add spikes to it.”

The Krampus’ face relaxed for a moment. He looked like he was going to...smile? But then he snarled, “Ahhh! I deliver the plans, you build them, I care nothing for ‘lovely!’” He leaned in close to Katja.

“You are behind schedule, girl.” He grabbed one of the children, a little girl, by the ear. “I’ll be happy to eat one of you to move things along, maybe this little sweetie here, eh? I’ll eat her up! Would you like that?”

“No! No, please, we’ll work harder!”

He flung the crying girl into Katja’s arms. “See that you do!” Then he looked sharply around the room again, like he was somehow aware of my presence. His yellow cat-eyes landed on Vlarni, perched on a ledge in the rocky wall. This was the first I’d seen of Vlarni since the sea battle. He was dazed, his feathers singed. “What’s that bird doing here?”

Vlarni’s head jerked up. He flew for it just in time as the Krampus leapt all the way across the room, sticking to the wall like a bug,

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scrambling to grasp Vlarni. Vlarni flew in circles around the room, the Krampus chasing him, hissing and growling. He smashed into the table the dogs hid under, and they bolted from their hiding place.

“Arrrgh! Dogs? What’s all this? Wicked girl! I’ll bite your head off!” He flew at Katja, foaming at the mouth. The dogs found their courage, barking and snapping at him, defending Katja.

In my head, Fenris said: Now! Now! I got a running start, and sprang through the air, sword raised high. I landed on the Krampus’ back, and plunged the blade home. His hide was thick, the sword had trouble going in. But I wounded him. He howled in pain, slamming against the wall, trying to get me off his back, knocking the wind out of me. I hit the floor with a grunt.

The Krampus turned, puzzled to see nothing, then stomped his hoof hard on the spot where I’d fallen. Rolling clear, I escaped by a hair. I took a deep breath, and he heard me. “An invisible man! I hear you! I’ll see your blood, invisible man!”

I rushed in again, scoring a wound on his leg. He swatted me with a backhand, knocking me for a loop. Worse, the fighting loosened the coat of Fenris again. It fell, and I was revealed, sprawled across the floor. “Assassin!” he hissed. The dogs lunged at him, mauling his legs. But they were no match for the Krampus. He kicked one clear across the room, batted another away like a fly, threw the third into a

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table full of toys. I took the opening they’d won, swinging my sword.

At the last moment, the Krampus twisted. My sword went wide of his body but sliced right through the necklace he wore. He turned, his forearm smashing me full in the face, sending me into the wall.

I hit hard, sliding down, dazed. But I saw the necklace falling to the floor.

Everything changed. The Krampus looked around the room as if seeing it for the first time. His voice was different, softer, confused.

“Where...where is it? It’s off, oh, at last, it’s off! But where is it, where is it? You must stop it!”

I saw the necklace coming alive, slithering across the floor, fast, like a terrible snake, headed right for the Krampus. His eyes bulged in panic as it wound around his leg, sliding up his body. The Krampus pawed at it, flinging it away. It hit the wall, fell to the floor, then instantly came back, launching at him!

The Krampus ran out into the hallway. I saw the living necklace slither after him. I was still crumpled on the floor. Katja was closer.

I yelled to her. “The necklace! Crush it!” She flew out the door in chase. Shaking off the cobwebs in my head, I followed. I heard crashing down the corridor, the Krampus cry out, “No, no, no!” Then a scream. Katja!

I ran after, racing to an archway in the wall and a narrow tunnel.

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From out of it came a fetid odor. Fenris warned, This is his lair, steel yourself, the necklace has him again. You have to kill him this time. Now in!

The tunnel was small, I had to scrunch down. It was a stinking animal’s hidey-hole, but not only that. The sides of the corridor were lined with...with things. All sorts of things, of beauty and wonder and even sentiment. Here was a chest full of pearls, there a crown, a candelabra, a painting of flowers, a toy, a seashell, a maypole with colorful ribbons dangling off it, an oriental carpet, all stuffed in close.

It wasn’t so much the horrid lair of a beast as the chaotic surroundings of a crazy artist with very, very poor hygiene.

I plunged on, groping past a ship’s wheel, a bust of a Roman emperor, boxes filled with buttons, a basket of dolls, an urn filled with paint brushes, a set of animal horns. Tread carefully, he’s close, and wounded, Fenris said. The tunnel opened into a room. Tables were covered with toys, and drawings of toys, the type of plans the Krampus had brought to the children’s workroom. Candles lit the room in a soft glow. The unmoving form of Katja lay on the floor. The Krampus was nowhere to be seen. I lifted Katja up, and she came around, her eyes wild. “He is here!” she said, just as I heard a bellow from the shadows. He was on me! I saw the necklace, sparkling around his throat. He couldn’t see me with Fenris’ coat on, but he’d

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heard me, marking where I was when I lifted Katja. Now he had me, his arms clamping me in a bear hug, raising me off the ground, squeezing the air out of me. I saw stars, felt my ribs on the verge of giving.

With a wild yell, Katja fastened herself on his back, raking at his eyes with her nails. Roaring in pain, he dropped me, trying to get her off him. Reaching up, he found her hair, pulling on it hard. Katja screamed, releasing her grip. Swinging her by her hair, he threw her to the floor. But he’d been distracted for a precious moment. I closed in, and found a hold on the necklace. I tore it off the Krampus’ neck. I stomped on it again and again, brought my sword handle down on it.

It broke apart into glittering fragments, writhing, then finally lying still.

I stood there panting for a moment, my head spinning, then ran to Katja. As I helped her to her feet, we heard the sound of weeping.

The Krampus was on his knees, sobbing like a lost child. He said, “They’ve sent you to kill me, haven’t they? Oh, at last! Thank you, thank you!”

For the first time, the Krampus was still long enough that I could really see him. I saw the marks of the lash, scars caused by torture.

He caught me looking. “Oh yes, warrior. I’m no stranger to Rathi’s chains and fire. He’s a cruel master. I’ve blackened my soul with

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wrongs done at his command, but his magic is too strong for me to break while I am in this body.”

“In this body...what do you mean? Do you have another?”

“I come from a place past the need for bodies. When I was there, I was free. I flew endlessly in the spaces between worlds, all mine to explore. I saw the birth of planets, I visited faraway stars, I was part of the fabric of the cosmos. Then Rathi conjured me here, binding me with that terrible necklace. I’d have killed this body long ago, but the jewel would not let me. Oh, how I wept! And Rathi, Rathi wants toys. He is at heart a greedy child. And when he wanted toys, I drew the plans. My only solace was drawing things, things that might delight a child.”

“You drew the plans? We thought you were just the messenger, that somebody else did them, or even Rathi himself,” Katja said.

“Rathi creates only chaos and death. No, it was I. I was happy drawing toys, the only time I was ever happy.” He took a rattling breath. “You, warrior, are the hand of fate. You must slay me, slay

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this body. Rathi has other necklaces to chain me. You must strike before it’s too late. Rathi will enslave me again, so long as I am in this shell. But free of it, an army of Rathis can’t hold me! And I will leave you both with a gift. I see you, warrior, your heart touched with pity, though you’re sent to kill me. I see you, girl, in your kindness and strength. I see goodness. I’ll give you a gift. Use it well, and you will have time to do so. Because the gift is time itself.”

By Wotan, I longed for simpler days, when I just fought other warriors and called it a day! All this magic and wizardry gave me a headache. Then, down the tunnel came a sliding, metallic noise. It got louder, closer, till scores of the enchanted necklaces came pouring out of the tunnel, some crawling on the ceiling, like lizards.

The Krampus flung his arms out, baring his chest. “Strike now, I beg you! Free me, before it’s too late!” The necklaces were attacking Katja and I, as well as the Krampus. They were winding up my leg, trying for my throat. I had to tear them off. I looked into the Krampus’ eyes and he into mine. I set my stance. At the last, he smiled kindly. “Be worthy of the gift I give. Do good things. Bring joy.” He closed his eyes.

And I drove my sword into his heart.

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118

White Light

chapter 21

White Light

A

ll the necklaces dropped to the floor, and were still. The

Krampus’ head slung back, his mouth opened. His eyes glowed white.

White light poured from his wound. There was a WHUMP that made the whole fortress shake. All the Krampus’ flesh was consumed by the white light. He became a featureless, glowing figure. He stood up, unfurling, like a butterfly out of a cocoon. He didn’t have wings, but seemed weightless, like he’d fly away in a breeze. He stretched, then clapped his hands together. There was another WHUMP that made the walls shudder and the floors tremble. When he spoke, his voice was different. It was warm, kind, strong, but still the Krampus.

“You’ve set me free! Here is your gift.” The Krampus reached inside himself, his hand melting into the whiteness of his body, withdrawing a ball of light. The light hung there, changing colors, spinning. “This is my gift to you who freed me, the gift of time. Use

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it wisely.” The ball got bigger, like a balloon, and then it popped. A wave of light broke over Katja and me. It was warm like the summer sun, and went right through us. We were sparkling, lit from the inside, changed.

The Krampus rose into the air, blasting out of the room, down the tunnel, shaking the fortress, on his way to Rathi.We weren’t sure what was about to happen, but we knew we wanted to see it. Katja and I ran down the corridors, in time to see the spirit pause at the door to the children’s prison. He ripped the giant door off the hinges as casually as you’d tear a piece of paper, then sped on. Inside were all the children, uncertain but ready, clutching their tools as weapons.

“Come on!” Katja said.

The fortress shook violently as the Krampus sped through it. The children poured out into the corridor, the three dogs joyfully leading the way into the jewel garden, then out into the feast hall, filled with warriors still half-drunk from the feast. They didn’t even try to stop the children. They were too busy looking for the exits, terrified by the luminous phantom of the Krampus shooting by overhead. Katja said, “There’s a way out over here.”

“I have to follow!” I told her. “I have to see it through!”

She reached out for my hand, and a blue spark arced between us.

Like myself and Fenris, like the Krampus and Rathi, Katja and I were

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bound now, bound by magic. For a moment, everything stopped. I looked in her eyes. A certain shade of violet. We both smiled, and we even laughed. But the fortress shook again, really alarmingly this time. It was going to fall, you could hear timbers cracking. “Don’t get killed,” she said. The room shook again. Katja shooed the children to the exit. I threw the coat of Fenris back on, and ran in pursuit of the rampaging Krampus.

I found my way to Rathi’s quarters, the glow of the Krampus spirit flying ahead of me. His passage cracked the walls, with pure power and energy. The heavy oaken doors were reduced to splinters. In the room with the miniature world, the lake, and the village of mice, the Krampus flickered and danced. Rathi was nowhere to be seen. The Krampus looked down on the tiny village, searching and then finding. “You cannot hide. Ah...there you are. Skulking among the mice.”

At a sweep of his arm a wall of water rose from the lake, breaking over the tiny village, destroying the houses, washing the mice away.

As the water receded, the drenched, tiny Rathi floated up in the air, dangling before the glowing Krampus. “I send you back to the dark, oh my prince.”

Rathi screamed. The Krampus closed its hand around him. There was an awful sizzling and hissing, then terrible Rathi was gone in a curl of smoke.

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The Krampus began to grow and grow and grow. Heat blazed off him, there was a rush of wind. The fort was coming down any moment. The Krampus’d outgrown the room, pressing up against the rafters. He raised his arms, the roof came apart. Timbers fell all around me. I blundered around blindly, I couldn’t find the door.

At the last moment, the Krampus saved me. I suddenly felt myself picked up bodily, and propelled through a window. I flew, pinwheeling through the cold air, full three stories up. All around snow fell heavily. I was sure I was going to die, but I didn’t. I landed in a snow bank, reasonably softly. I felt my fall somehow guided by the Krampus. I saw him, now a giant, blasting out of the roof of Rathi’s fortress. Stretching his arms to the sky, he shot away like a rocket from a bottle, leaving our world behind. The fortress collapsed, flattened.

And then I too collapsed, flattened, the senses knocked out of me.

I saw the white of the snow bank all around me. Then everything went black.

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In The Ruins

chapter 22

In The Ruins

W

hen I woke, Vlarni stood on my chest. “About time,” he

said, when my eyes opened. “It’s freezing out here.” It was twilight, almost dark, snow still coming down. I saw the orange glow of a torch coming through the snowfall. It was Katja, the three dogs with her.

“I was afraid you were dead,” she said.

“No, I...hold on...you can see me! But I have Fenris on.”

The voice of Fenris came into my head. Ah, there you are, Viking.

Yes, I’m leaving you now. I’ve done what I told the elves I’d do – you have too. And now I claim my reward, the Ever Again, where I will wait for Dava. I wanted to say goodbye to you, brave warrior. Ha ha, we won, we won through! Raarrrrrgh! Hmm, oh yes, the Krampus was right, you must use it well.

“Wait, what did he mean, use it well?”

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I haven’t a clue! I’m just a wolf! But I think you’ll know, Finehair, in time. Farewell to the raven, to King Donner, to the girl. Farewell, farewell to you most of all, brave Viking Finehair!

“Fenris, wait!” But he was gone to the Ever Again.

“But did he tell you what the Krampus gave us? I mean what to do with it?”

“Not exactly, but I think something in that light was life. A very long life. He wanted us to do something good with it, but I don’t know what that is.” She helped me to my feet. “Where are the children?”

“On the way to the village. I put some of the older ones in charge.”

“The fortress...there was a fortune in treasure there.”

“I have to go back to the village. My family...my...” She hesitated.

“Will you come?”

“Yes, of course. I...” I wanted to tell her how I felt about her. But I couldn’t. Me, a Viking who could fight warriors and demons without batting an eye, I was afraid to speak my feelings.

Katja said, “It’s only a little ways, over that hill and through a woods and down...well, look there. Where the smoke is.” On the horizon was a column of smoke. “I expect they’re burning Rathi’s war machines. Come when you are ready, then.”

“There’s so much gold and treasure here, don’t you want to...?”

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“There’s...they’re waiting for me. Just bring me some, I guess.”

“All right, well, I’ll follow after...”

It was awkward! I couldn’t figure out what was bothering her, so we just said our temporary farewell. She went to the village, and Vlarni and I back to the fortress. It’d crumbled, fallen to the earth, but there was a lot of salvage to be had.

From out of the snowstorm, the Reindeer King appeared, and I hailed him. “Donner! We’ve won the day! Where have all Rathi’s warriors gone?”

“Run away, all of them,” he said. “Screaming this is a cursed place.

Which I reckon it is, eh?” Vlarni flew over to Donner’s horns and perched there. “Hello, bird,” said the reindeer. He looked at me again.

“I can see you, though you wear the coat. He’s gone, the wolf?”

“Fenris has gone to the Ever Again.”

“Well, he earned it. Ever and ever again.”

Off the stable, a roof’d partly fallen in on a warehouse filled with Rathi’s war sleds. I decided the best bet was to fill one up with treasure, then ask Donner to tow it. Picking through the ruins, I found the remains of the jewel garden. I filled sacks to overflowing with precious stones. I found crowns, necklaces, goblets, coins in the wreckage of Rathi’s chambers. Outside the collapsed tunnel of the Krampus, I noticed rolls of his plans for toys. I recalled how well

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he loved drawing them, and scooped them up. I stumbled on many other toys, wonderful things crafted by the children, many still in pristine condition. I thought it might be fun to give those to them who made them, let them enjoy the fruits of their labor. And Katja?

I’d ask her hand in marriage and take her back with me to the Rus. “A good girl, that one,” Vlarni said, riding on my shoulder as I looted the fortress.

I said, “I think so too, bird!”

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chapter 23

At The Crossroads

W

e set off for Katja’s village. Smoke from many fires filled the

horizon. Pulling over a hill, I saw charred ruins of warships and sleds. Rathi’s former slaves were burning all the war machines he’d had them build. We trundled on, through a snowy forest of bare trees, to a rise overlooking what had to be Katja’s village. A river ran through, huts clustered around it. In front of each hut was a tree, a spirit tree, just like the Rus had. I wanted to do something good for these people. I remembered the words of the Krampus.

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I talked it over with Vlarni and Donner, what to do for Katja’s village. We waited till night, when everyone slept.

In each spirit tree, I hung jewels. I had bags full to spare, loot from Rathi. Under the trees, I put a toy for a child, from Rathi’s workhouse. Some of the huts had their washing out to dry, the stockings hanging. I put a few coins in each, and some candy I’d looted from Rathi’s chambers. I made them gifts.

We were at the end of the road through the village, all proud of ourselves. By then, it was dawn, grey and misty. There was a little cough behind me. It was Katja. She was scrubbed, and in clean clothes. She looked beautiful. “You startled me! How did you know I was here?” I said. I was so happy to see her, my heart was jumping for joy.

“I don’t know how, but I felt it. Your presence? Maybe we’re sort of alike now, after what happened with...you know. It was good of you to do all this.”

“It seemed right.”

“The Krampus would approve.”

“Katja, I...” I was not good with words.

“I know...” She held my hand. “But, I...” I hadn’t noticed him, I was so excited to see Katja. But he was behind her: a boy my age.

He came forward, standing next to her. He was a farm boy. He was

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strong, nice looking I guess, but not a Viking of the Rus. I could have run him through in a second, grabbed Katja for my own, taken what I wanted, like Wotan! But I didn’t. I just listened when she said: “I’m promised to him, Nikolai. It’s our way. I can’t...I can’t leave my people, I can’t leave our ways.”

Back in the diner, Nikolai swivels back and forth on the stool.

“Crazy, huh?”

“I guess people still do stuff like that in some places,” Jackie answers. “Arranged marriages?”

“Yes, old ways, our old ways.” He laughs. “Back then, they were the only ways! I hadn’t even conceived of Katja having a life outside of this adventure we’d just shared, but, of course, she did.”

She’d been promised, she was a strong girl of child-bearing age, that was the way it went then. People weren’t so forward thinking as to have you picking out your own mates. The Rus had similar traditions, and we too were bound by them, seriously bound. I had two options. Either kill this farmboy and steal Katja for my own, or walk away. I had no idea what to say. I just mumbled, “If...why can’t...I...”

“Nikolai...” She put her hand on my face tenderly. “I have to. And you have to go back to yours.”

I awkwardly put my hand to her face. I told the boy, who just stood there grim-faced, “Take good care of her.” I gave her a bag of

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precious stones and treasure from Rathi’s hoard. “Here...I hope they help you. I should go. Farewell, Katja. Of the village by the river.”

“Farewell, Nikolai of the Rus. I’ll try – try to do what he said.”

“Me too. I’ll try too.” I walked away, in the falling snow. Katja was lost to me in all the vastness of the world.

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chapter 24

Among Friends

A

gain, Vlarni and I flew across the roof of the Earth on Don-

ner’s back. Snorri didn’t seem at all surprised to see us. “It went well, then?” The elves pawed through all the treasure, but didn’t want any.

They were more interested in the part of it I’d given away. “Why’d you do that?” Snorri asked.

“It just seemed right.”

“Hmph. And Fenris, gone now, eh?”

“Gone to the Ever Again.”

“Well, life is long. And yours will be very long. The gift the Kram-

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pus gave is the longest of lives. You’ll age slowly, disease will pass you by.” I pondered this, as the elves perused the Krampus’ plans for toys.

“Fantastic, what cunning design! May we take these with us? When we go away? Something to while away the time.”

“Yes, yes, have them. But why do you even want to go away?”

Snorri sighed. “Our old ways die, beliefs turn elsewhere, our power fades. It’s time for us to leave the world of men.” He smiled. “The Krampus saw something in you and this Katja you told us about. I hope you find your use.” He put the seeing stones in my hands. “Our end of the bargain, eh? One final thing. We’d like you to close the door after us.” So Vlarni, Donner and I followed the little men to a bluff covered with weeds and dead branches. They pulled the deadwood from the rock, exposing a head-high, round stone carved with runes.

Snorri spoke an incantation: “Hniga dyrr áifr!” The rock rolled aside. Behind it was a tunnel down into the earth. “You’ll have to speak the words, after we are in, the door must be closed from the outside. Cover the rock as it was. Go back to your people, you’ve done well. See that you continue to do so, grow in wisdom and compassion.” He turned to the animals. “Reindeer King, your part in this was well done, as was yours, Master Vlarni. And now, goodbye.

Speak the words, dear son, Viking Nikolai Finehair, beloved of the

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elves.”

I spoke the words, the stone rumbled into place, and that was that. I was left staring at a rock, standing there in the woods above Lindisfarne, with a talking bird and reindeer. I asked Donner, “What about you, then? Why not come with me to the Rus lands, plenty of grazing there?”

“My place is here, Nikolai, with the herd, as yours is with the Vikings, and Katja’s with her clan. I hope for the day I see you again, but we must follow our fates.”

Everyone was leaving me! I asked Vlarni. “You’re not flying away too, are you bird?”

“Donner’s right, we all have to be in our rightful places in the world. Here’s mine.” He flew to my shoulder. How I loved Vlarni!

He made me laugh, which felt good, and I felt a little of my spirit return. Donner bowed to us, we to him, and Vlarni and I set off down the path to Lindisfarne.

No surprise, Hairy Britches, Squint and Klak Harald were still in the tavern. “By Wotan! There he is! We thought you’d deserted!”

Hairy Britches clapped me on the back. “Where’d you get that wolf skin?”

“Hunting.” I didn’t know what else to say. “Hunting for these.” I laid the seeing stones on a table.

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“Wotan’s blood! I didn’t even know they were gone! Klak Harald, you’re trusted with keeping ‘em, how did this happen?”

Klak Harald looked befuddled, then angry. He glared at me darkly.

“I...they were on the ship.”

“I had to get them back. Elves stole them.”

“Elves?” Hairy Britches looked skeptical.

“Elves what sent me on a mission.” I told them all about the elves, the coat of Fenris, the flying reindeer, the see-through fortress, the Krampus. I left out the part about my bag of Rathi’s treasure. I still had sackfuls of jewels and gold, which I’d prudently hidden in the bushes. There’d be hell to pay with Vikings and a treasure like that in their midst. I planned to fetch it before we shipped, pile it in with all our other goods going back on ship, then retrieve it quietly, once back in the Rus land. Well, they listened, and maybe Squint and Hairy Britches believed it, but Klak Harald’s pride had been wounded by the theft of the seeing stones under his care.

“Elves? Wizards? Krampuses, whatever that is? He’s lying! He stole the stones, then brought them back with this yarn, to big himself up! He thinks we’re fools,” Klak Harald said.

“You should take that back,” I said. “You’re drunk and stupid.”

“Dog! I’ll have your liver out for that!” Klak Harald pulled his sword, and I mine. We flailed away in the tavern, steel sparking steel.

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Klak Harald was drunk, and too big for the small room. I scored one wound on him, a graze on his arm. He slashed at me and cut me across the shoulder. Blood ran down my arm, wetting my hand.

My grip on the sword became slippery. But Klak Harald fell over a chair, and I was quick at his neck with the blade, holding it there. I’d be right to cut his throat. It’d be the Viking thing to do. Even Klak Harald looked resigned to losing his life. It was the natural order of things in the mean Viking world. But I remembered the Krampus.

I remembered my dream on the roof of Rathi’s half-there fortress.

Here I was, a sword in my red hand, and over what? Words? An argument? I felt my face twist as if I was under some tremendous pressure. I remembered the Krampus’ face as he fought the power of the terrible necklace controlling him. What controlled me? Was it just a set of traditions, an unquestioning acceptance that this is the way the world is, and we have no choice? Or did I have a choice? I felt heat rush to my face, and a terrible realization, terrible for a Viking used to bloodlust and fury came to me. I realized I didn’t want to kill Klak Harald. I dropped my sword.

The others were astonished. I told them: “I’m changed. I won’t kill you, Klak Harald. All I’ve said is true, and that’s all there is to it.”

I held out my hand to Klak Harald. He shrugged, and took it. I pulled him up. He studied me for a long moment, then laughed.

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“All right, then, Finehair. Say your piece.”

In the diner, he’s filling a to-go box with Danish and donuts.

“Reindeer, they love pastry,” he tells Jackie, nodding up to the roof.

“Rudolph likes the almond ones. Well, the Vikings had all sorts of questions, but I convinced them of the truth, by talking to Vlarni.

Come here, bird, go there, if you understand me do this or do that.

Hairy Britches agreed to sail. Just in time, too. Bloodaxe’s fleet was just up the coast, coming from the northeast.

My role in all this – winning back the seeing stones, warning about Bloodaxe – raised me up in the eyes of Hairy Britches and the others, even Klak Harald. Over time, the Rus became powerful, more powerful than all the other clans, in large part due to me. My secrets were kept among friends, between Hairy Britches, Squint, Klak Harald and I. And when Hairy Britches went to Valhalla – the Viking version of the Ever Again – I was chosen Jarl. I was the king of the Rus.”

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chapter 25

Long Live The King

N

ikolai stuffs another Danish in the to-go box. Jackie says,

“You’re really pillaging the pastries there, Viking guy.”

“Yes, well, that’s nothing pillage-wise. I didn’t completely leave off Viking ways when I was Jarl. We got plenty of loot and there was plenty of fighting. Just not with farmers and innocents, like at Lindisfarne. I still had a limited idea of what good was, you know?

But I tried to steer the Rus more towards settling down, to trading, rather than war. Our clan, all the others, just constantly fighting and killing each other, and what for? Nobody could really tell you. No

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more war was what I wanted. Easier said than done!

I also wanted children. But whatever the Krampus did to Katja and I, it made it so I couldn’t produce children. I took a wife, my Thyrwi, a beautiful Rus maiden, strong, thoughtful, gentle, kind. All her sisters, they had children. But we had none. We were happy together, and we had many nieces and nephews to care for, but it was a sad thing for both of us. I told Thyrwi about what I’d done in Katja’s village, leaving gifts for the children. She thought that was a good thing to do, so we began doing it each year for all the children we could, leaving little toys and presents for them under the spirit trees.

Thyrwi, she knew about me. I told her about my adventures and the Krampus and that I wouldn’t get old. She doubted me at first, but the seasons changed, the years turned and turned again. She aged, while I stayed the same. My fellows, Squint, Klak Harald, everyone passed as time went by. I aged only a very little bit, I was still basically a young man. I had to wear a fake, white-haired beard and wig so I looked the right age.

Vlarni the raven grew old too. He ruled the Rus along with me, sitting by my throne in the longroom. One day in autumn, the crops were being brought in. I remember the smell of wood smoke, and Vlarni on his perch. He looked old. His feathers were dull, and his eyes too. He spoke quietly. “I’m old as a stone. I’ve had a long life, a

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glorious life. But, Finehair...my time’s come. I want to fly to the forest, and go to the Ever Again. Let the forest take what is left of this body. I want you to remember me as I am...your friend, who loves you so well.”

Tears filled my eyes. Vlarni was my oldest, my best friend. “And I love you, old bird,” I said. “Raven, sacred of Wotan. I love you with all my heart.”

Vlarni laughed, “Old bird is right. I feel it coming, it won’t be long, so don’t worry. I don’t even think it’ll hurt. Be brave, as I know you are. You’ve still got work to do.” He looked to the west, where the

sun was setting. “The sky is wonderful this evening. I’ll see you, Nikolai. Look for me when you get there, to the Ever Again.”

“Ever and ever.”

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“Ever and ever again.” Vlarni the raven flapped out of the hall and into the sky, and I never saw him again.

Years later, Thyrwi passed too, my Thyrwi. Before she went, she made me promise to keep my tradition of giving gifts anonymously to the children each year, after harvest, before winter really set in hard. It made them happy, and that made me happy. It was good for grown-ups to see too. It kind of melted them a little, you know?

They’d be a bit kinder to one another around that time of year. Thrywi, I was with her when I was still figuring my way, she was dear to me. I wept and wept when she went. I was losing everyone I loved so much. After Thyrwi went, I felt like I lost my mind. I felt I was living in a dream, that nothing really mattered. Never to die? Where was the meaning? I thought I might as well, what’s the saying? Go for it. I was so tired of the never-ending wars the Rus were always involved in, despite all my efforts to end them. I tried to make peace one last time. I was determined. I called a council of all the jarls.

But all the other jarls were old, like I supposedly was. They were hard, bitter old men, not disposed to peace. All my attempts failed, and the ceaseless wars stayed ceaseless. I felt useless. I couldn’t make the changes I wanted, that I thought they needed. I’d been grooming Squint’s son to be jarl, he was as good a leader as you could find in the Rus. He’d guide the clan responsibly at least. So, finally, late one

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night, I just rode away. You see, people watched my every move as the old jarl. But I didn’t really look old, under the beard and wig. I still looked like I was in my early 20s. So I took off my chieftain’s robes, put on the clothes of a common warrior, took my bag of Rathi’s treasure, put it all in a saddlebag and threw it on my horse. He was a good horse, big, strong, and deeply philosophical. “Now what?” he asked.

I wanted to go where it was warm. “South. To the sun.”

We wound up in Venice. In a big city like that, it was easy for me to blend in. I used some of my treasure to set myself up in a relatively modest palazzo. I became a gentleman, a merchant. I kept up my tradition of bringing toys to children anonymously once a year. It was a modest thing, but made me feel happy and useful, to bring some small happiness into the world.

The years went by that way, fifty, one hundred, one into two into

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three, the centuries turned. It was, in many ways, a quiet life. But I felt like I was getting ready for something. I didn’t know what. I still had this idea of being a Leader of Men. But I loved giving out the gifts the most, I always did that every year. And I always wondered about Katja, about where she was. I wondered if she was still alive, if she did the same, wondered about me. I’d loved Thrywi, but my life, my life was so long. Katja and I, we were the only two of our kind, the only ones who would understand what the other was going through. I wanted to find her, but this was a different world. There were no phones, no internet, no search engines, even the maps we had weren’t much good.

At a party, I met a young man named Marco Polo. He wanted to explore new trade routes to the far east, and he needed money. He appealed to me, a wealthy Venetian, for backing. And I agreed, on one condition: I come along.

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chapter 26

In Antique Lands

“O

h, that was a glorious undertaking! It woke me up again to

life. We crossed seas and deserts. In the day, the sun turned every-

thing to yellow and brown. At night the moon hung blue in the sky, over oases lined with palms, the stars like diamonds overhead. I was a traveler in antique lands, like Shelley’s poem. I was fascinated with this part of the world, so unlike the cold lands of the Rus. Here there were the marvels of the ancient world: ruins, pyramids, gods and demons, different ways, whole other ways of life.

Different, but I kept one part of my life the same. Even on my voyages with Marco, I kept up the annual gift-giving, sneaking out

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to leave little presents for the children - children of desert nomads, children of a jewelled city, wherever I found myself. After a time, I parted with Marco Polo. I went to live with the Bedouin, learning their desert ways.

I became a merchant again, outfitting a small caravan, protected by my Bedouin friends. One thing living for centuries’ll make you good at is driving a bargain, and I was very successful. I had four hundred camels endlessly crossing the wastelands between cities.

The desert’s an ocean of sand instead of water, dry instead of wet, the camel’s way, not the whale’s way. The days were filled with the rhythm of the caravan moving under the hot sun, the nights were cool and quiet.

And I still wondered about Katja. Some nights, if there was a moon, it would light the desert sand almost white, like snow. I’d think about Katja and the north, I’d look up at the stars and wonder where she was, what she was doing, if she was still alive.”

In the diner, Nikolai looks dreamy and faraway, but he’s brought back to earth by a glow under his coat. It’s a small, old-fashioned hourglass, filled with glowing sand. He holds it up, squinting at it.

“Oh, must wrap this up. All this about time, and here it is running out. Even I can’t hold it back forever.”

“Well, you must have found her? Katja?” Jackie asks.

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“Oh, stumbled across her more like. As always, it didn’t hurt that I could talk to animals, particularly the camels. Very patient animals, camels. They always said, ‘Nikolai, you should get a girlfriend.’ I’d say, ‘What do you camels know?’ But they’d scheme and plot to put me in the path of this woman or that. Camels are terrible busybodies!

They suggested we take the caravan into a walled city-state that lay in our path, Alishir it was called. Alishir was rich, I’d make a lot

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of money there. Camels are shrewd animals, so I took their advice.

There was a set way to meet with the leaders of these places, the princes of the desert. I’d send a gift ahead, a falcon or a chest filled with gold, something nice. They’d send back word that they’d trade with me. I’d be received in their grandest hall, expected to bow down to them, to give them more gifts, to praise them to high heaven, then all would be well, and business could be taken care of to the benefit of both sides. We brought goods they didn’t have. I traded with them for things that couldn’t be found back in Europe.

So, there I was in golden Alishir, city of minarets and sparkling towers. The hall of the caliph was magnificent! Marble floors, gold and ivory everywhere, all set in a lush garden. The royal court lined the aisle in all their finery. Big guards stood holding scimitars. And on the Caliph’s throne, not a man, but a woman! The Caliph had passed from this world, and the Calipha ruled in his place. Silk robed and veiled, she sat on a throne of alabaster and rosewood. I could practically hear those camels laughing. Golden Alishir had a queen, not a king and they were hoping we’d...well, you know...fall in love!

I kneeled before her, salaamed, did all the ritual groveling one does in those situations. I’d done it a million times before. You’re not supposed to look at them before they give you permission. After a lot of bowing, praising, talking about how unworthy I was, finally her

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grand vizier said, ‘You may look on the Calipha.’

When she saw me up close for the first time, I heard her gasp. Her hand flew to her mouth. Her eyes widened above the veil. Her eyes that were a certain shade of violet.”

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chapter 27

Turn Back The Years

S

he had me brought to her rooms, quietly, by her most trusted

servant. She took my hand in hers. The Calipha let down her veil.

“Katja...” My eyes filled with tears. She began to cry too, and we fell into each other’s arms. We held each other for a long time like that, weeping, but for happiness. To find the only one like you in all the world, the one you’d longed to see for so long, the one you thought lost to you forever, after losing so many others...oh, it was overwhelming!

There was lots of catching up to do, telling one another what’d happened to us. She’d followed much the same path as I. She and her first husband, the boy in the road, had accumulated a fortune, and much land over time. But she also ran into the same problem I had.

“Everyone else grew old. All those around me, all those I loved. I had

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to make myself look old, stoop like a crone, wear a white wig...”

“I had one of those too!”

“Yes, but eventually that wasn’t enough, because soon there were whispers of witchcraft. I finally took my savings – quite a lot at that point, and those jewels you gave me, and I fled in the night.”

“Ha! That’s the same thing I had to do.”

“Well, you really have no choice after a while.”

“And...did you have children?”

“No, no, I...we were never able to...”

“Nor I.” “I always wondered about that. It’s got to be something about what the Krampus did that made us barren. But I do love them, children.We adopted three whose parents’d been lost, raised them as our own and...even them, I watched them grow old and pass. Grief’s such a hard thing. It’s like a wave that breaks over you and then goes on, so you can come up for air. But they break again and again, waves that keep coming. I loved them, all the ones I buried.”

“I did too.”

She brightened. She said, “We stole your idea, your lovely thing you did of putting little gifts under the spirit trees! We kept that up, my husband and I. For children of the poor, who didn’t have anything, each year...and what do you know? It caught on! Others

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started doing it for their children too! It was wonderful to see, the happiness the children get from this idea that someone just loves them enough to give them a gift, they get so excited! And it somehow brings out the best in grown-ups too!”

“I did it too, I keep doing it, I’ve never stopped!”

She told me about her many lives. She’d wandered south, then east, like me. She had come to the desert to explore the ancient land, maybe to find some answers as to what the Krampus would have us do. She came to Alishir, dazzling the Caliph. They’d had a happy life together, and she’d followed her heart’s wish to help children.

“I started a home for them here, a palace for orphans and the poor, with green parks and cool fountains to play in. The children of the city, they’re my children in a way.” The Caliph though, he’d been carried off on a tiger hunt gone terribly wrong. “I told him not to fool with tigers, but he wouldn’t listen. Now he’s gone three years, and I am Calipha of Alishir.”

I told her about my jarldom, about what had happened with the Rus, my flight away, about Venice, Marco Polo, my desert travels, everything. I told her, “Katja, the moment I met you, in Rathi’s garden of jewels...I remember you in rags, carrying the dogs’ slops.

I remember your face, and your purple eyes. And I remember how I felt I’d been struck by Thor’s hammer! I thought we were forever

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lost to each other, lost in the big world. To find you now, after all the centuries gone to dust...I...” Well, I’m not ashamed to tell you, I think anyone would feel this way, the tears came again.

They came to her too, but Katja smiled through them, held my hand to her lips, then pressed it to her cheek. “Ever and ever again,” she said. “At last.”

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Ever Again chapter 28

The Mechanical Hummingbird

W

e weren’t sure what to do. Should I become Caliph at her

side? How would the people of Alishir react? Katja was a beloved ruler. She managed the affairs of state brilliantly. But a new marriage, especially to a northern outsider, might not go down well. Alishir was rife with intrigue. Katja had her hands full, dealing with sheikhs, princes, warlords, all with their feuds and schemes.

The biggest threat was a desert shaman, a supposed wizard, Az Al-Wiri. Al-Wiri led a growing army of nomads. Katja told me, “He wants Alishir. There’s whispers he wants to enslave the people, to use them for some foul end, something otherworldly. They say he can raise the dead, that he can capture a man’s soul in a jewel, that he commands an army of rats, that he lives in the sewers under Alishir.

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The Mechanical Hummingbird

He reminds me of Rathi.”

“By Ymir, he does sound like Rathi! Do you think that weasel could’ve survived?”

“Oh no, I’ve seen Az Al-Wiri, I received him in my court at the first, he was representing the Wazari tribe in some dispute...the Wazaris, they’re villains! Al-Wiri, he’s a small, bald man, brown as a berry, old, wrinkled but with the most piercing eyes. I saw them flash red like...well, like a rat’s! A horrible man, but not Rathi.”

“Just as dangerous perhaps.” We sat on a balcony, the last fading light turning the minarets orange and pink. Torches and candles had been lit in the streets and houses, all was aglow in twilight. I wanted to stay in Katja’s kingdom, a green island in the desert, a paradise.

There were problems of course, just like with the Rus. Still, I thought maybe here the two of us together could bring peace to all, could succeed in managing the affairs of men where I’d failed by myself. But this Al-Wiri wouldn’t make it easy.

As if on cue, a turbaned eunuch entered, bowing before us. “Your highness, a gift has arrived from Az Al-Wiri.” He presented us with a small chest. Inside the plushly lined box were two things, the first a letter. Katja read it aloud: “Oh my Queen, your servant humbly requests the honor of presenting himself at court, that he may sing thy praises and lavish gifts upon thee. If you would grant my wish,

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wind the key in this bird. It will fly to the happiest of men, and I shall present myself on the morrow. If thy answer is no, keep the bird, and with it my heart.” The second thing in the box was the object the note mentioned. This was one of the most remarkable things I’d ever seen, and keep in mind that I was a wealthy merchant, used to seeing the most forward inventions of the day. It was a hummingbird made out of metal and jewels, green, blue, ruby throated. It had a small key round its neck and a hole to put the key in for winding. “What do you think?” Katja asked.

“Amazingly made.”

“Perhaps I should meet him at court again. To be diplomatic.”

“Yes, and I’d like to get a look at him.”

“I’m going to wind it.” The bird came to astonishing life. It fluttered its wings, cocked its head all birdlike, then began flying and hovering just like a hummingbird.

“Wotan’s blood!” I swore and drew my sword, realizing suddenly that the thing’s little beak could be poisoned or it could hide any other number of dangers. But it buzzed harmlessly out the window, disappearing over the minarets and towers.

“Well,’ Katja said, ‘we’re going to have visitors.”

The next day, Az Al-Wiri was received at court. First he made a progress through the city, like a hero. Or more like an animal that

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everyone’s afraid of, hoping if they’re nice to it, it won’t bite them.

He came on a shabby chariot pulled by black horses, attended by four tribal warriors, faces hidden behind masks. The people threw flowers in his path as he made his way to the palace, and the sick and infirm begged him to heal them. As he entered the court, I kept a discreet distance from Katja, mixing in with the crowd. I had a dagger in my boot, just in case. The Royal Guards lined the room, and two of them were stationed on either side of the Calipha. All the nobles gawked at these desert bandits and their weird, wizened leader - a magic man, prostrating himself before their queen. Katja said, “Rise, Az Al-Wiri, blessed of the desert, and look upon us.Why have you come to my court?”

His voice was oily, smooth, a snake’s voice. “Oh my Queen, my fellows and I know Alishir holds no love for us. We would make right, we would show our love.”

“And how would you do that, Az Al-Wiri?”

“Oh my Queen, with blooms!” Az Al-Wiri gestured, and everything of wood in the room, the moldings, frames, spearshafts, even parts of Katja’s throne, sprouted colorful flowers! “Oh my Queen, with wonders!” Butterflies of all colors flew from his palms, fluttering through the room. “Oh my Queen, with treasure!” He laid his palms on the floor, and piles of gold coins appeared under his

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hands. The piles grew and grew, each growing as tall as he! “Oh my Queen, with slaves!” He opened his cloak, and men and women, one on each side, walked out! Two by two slaves materialized, twelve in all. They threw themselves down before Katja’s throne, twelve people from nowhere! The hair was up on the back of my neck, but Katja was calm, just observing before she finally spoke. “Az Al-Wiri,

you do us much honor with your generosity. But it is not treasure, or slaves, or wonders that we crave. Rather, we crave your loyalty, and peace between nations, on which a price cannot be set in treasure.”

“Oh my Queen, we would give you our loyalty and more. We would give you our love.” The court gasped and murmured as Az AlWiri got down on one bony knee, spreading his arms wide. “For we know thou art widowed and in need of a mate. Does not every queen need a king? I come to you now, my Queen, to offer my hand to thee in marriage.”

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We hadn’t seen that coming! Katja kept steady, though, replying: “Az Al-Wiri, favorite of heaven, you honor me by asking for my hand! But the wound on my heart from the death of the Caliph is too raw, and will not let another into my heart. I pray thee, take our hand in friendship and let there be peace. But I cannot wed thee.”

Az Al-Wiri’s face darkened as he rose. “You would do well not to refuse. For ye shall ne’er again find a man such as myself.”

That’s for sure, I thought. Katja continued diplomatically fending him off. “Nay, not in a thousand years shall I find a man as you, dear Al-Wiri, but such a marriage is impossible.”

That reptilian face twisting horribly, he spat venom: “Nay, none is a match for Al-Wiri, oh Queen, not even your Northman!” He glared at me. “Aye, I know of him, I know all. I am Al-Wiri and will not be denied!” He made another of those weird, fluid hand motions.

The flowers he’d conjured shriveled to brown. Gesturing again, all the butterflies evaporated in puffs of smoke. Laying his hands on the floor, the piles of gold coins became worthless sand. Worst of all, at another wave of his hands the slaves gasped for air, choking, and then they too turned to crumbling sand! Then he turned to Katja, raising his hands toward her.

That was enough for me. “Get him!” I yelled, and the Royal Guards and I charged. Al-Wiri’s men stepped in front of him.

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“Behold, northern scum,” Al-Wiri hissed at me. His eyes rolled back in his head, and he made a sound like hiccups. His guardsmen toppled over, face first to the floor, their bodies dissolving into...

“Rats!” yelled the captain of the Royal Guards. Where there had been four guardsmen were now hundreds of rats, swarming over the court, sending everyone into a panic. Leaping, scratching, biting rats!

Al-Wiri took advantage of the confusion to run into the courtyard.

A ball of flame and smoke erupted where he stood, and he was gone.

When the smoke cleared, we saw he’d disappeared down a drain set in the flagstones, leading to the sewers below. The rats laid off their attack, following their leader into the drain.

From out of nowhere, from everywhere, came Al-Wiri’s oily voice: “Reconsider, oh my Queen, or face consequence. Thou hast one day to ponder. Then I shall send thee an engagement gift.”

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chapter 29

The Face In The Bowl

T

his time it was a crate, so heavy it had to be brought in by

servants bearing it on poles across their shoulders. Inside was a large bowl, strangely painted with faces of children. At the very bottom of the bowl was a hand-sized clump of hair. Hair cut from many heads: brown, blonde, red, black, all mixed together. The bowl didn’t seem big enough to be so heavy, but two men could barely move it.

“What does it mean?” Katja asked.

Just then, another servant entered, announcing, “The minister of the children’s home begs audience, Calipha.”

The minister was a mess, trembling, throwing himself on the floor before Katja. “Horrible news, horrible news,” he cried. “Vanished, vanished! The children have vanished out of their beds in the night, without a whisper.”

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“The children...” Katja and I both looked to the bowl, to the painted children’s faces. They began twisting, pushing out from the surface, becoming three dimensional, alive. They began to cry. Then the faces stopped crying, becoming still, receding back into the surface.

The clumps of hair had vanished. In their place was a golden ring, for the finger of a queen. The bottom of the bowl suddenly came to life, and the face of Al-Wiri himself pushed out of it.

The face spoke: “Thy children are in no danger. They are in my care. Take the ring I give thee and wed me. I await your answer at the oasis of Beni-Khaznat. I await thee....” The voice trailed off, the face settling back into the bowl’s surface.

“He has the children. I can’t marry that slimy snake, but what to do, what to do? Send my men after him? He’ll have those sewer rats of his eat up the children.”

I wished I had Thor’s hammer to smash Az Al-Wiri over the head with. Then a thought struck me. “Thor...”

“What about Thor?”

I had an idea, one that made me laugh out loud. “Ha! Oh, there will be a wedding, my dear!”

“You want me to marry that evil old man?”

“No! I’m going to marry him!”

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chapter 30

The Wedding of Az Al-Wiri

I

n the Viking myths, Thor is very wily. In one story, the frost

giants steal his hammer. They’ll only give it back if the goddess Freya marries one of the giants. She refuses, of course, but Thor still has to have his hammer back. So he decides he himself will dress as the bride, wearing a veil. He goes to the wedding and once he’s in he kicks everyone’s butt and gets his hammer back.

The plan was I’d have a small warrior escort, posing as holy men and servants. Once in the presence of Az Al-Wiri, we’d settle his bill, so to speak, and free the children. So, imagine me in a wedding

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gown, jewelry, veiled, quite covered-up as was the custom, thank goodness. Az Al-Wiri had only seen Katja from a distance, so hopefully the illusion would hold long enough for me to close quarters with him. Our little caravan arrived at his camp at Beni-Khaznat.

Unknown to the men in my escort, I’d also talked to the animals in our train. I was in a wadu on the back of an elephant, and there were four camels as well. They’d agreed to create havoc once things got hot. I felt pretty confident when we entered the camp.

The oasis was full of Bedouin and nomads. I wondered how many of them were made of rats. Then the head rat himself, Al-Wiri came out to meet us. “Oh my Queen! How you do honor our camp! Will you accept my offer?”

I just nodded. One of our fake holy men spoke for me, since my voice was too deep to fool anyone. “The Queen will wed thee, Az AlWiri, but you must prove good faith by setting the children free.”

Al-Wiri smiled, and his sharp, stained-brown teeth were a horror! “Set them free? They are already back in their beds, returned to Alishir as soon as I saw thee.” So now we had to wait, while a rider was sent to make sure. This was the hardest part, because then it was feast time, as we counted down to the wedding. I was sitting next to Al-Wiri, at a table filled with various sheikhs and warlords. The wine was flowing. Al-Wiri gazed at me strangely after he had had a

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few. “Thou seemest so much...larger close up, my Queen.”

“Her highness would tell thee that the court is cunningly constructed so as to make her appear smaller,” my holy man escort improvised. “So, uh, so her subjects feel at ease in the presence.”

“Why will you not speak for yourself, my Queen?” Al Wiri asked.

“Her highness would tell thee, Az Al-Wiri, that she may not speak on her wedding day until...uh...” He was groping for an excuse. “Until the first kiss between bride and groom! It is a custom of our people.”

I groaned at that. Al-Wiri asked, “Are thee all right, my Queen?

Doth thy stomach trouble thee?”

“Her majesty is nervous at the prospect of the wedding night.”

I could smell the wine on Al-Wiri’s breath, he’d had quite a bit.

“Then perhaps we should get on with it, eh?” he chortled.

“Her majesty must make sure of the safety of the children and then thou shalt receive thy due.” Just then, the rider returned.

“The children, they’re back, it’s miraculous, as if they were never gone,” the rider said.

I heaved a sigh of relief. We’d make fast work of these desert creeps, I thought, so long as I could close with Al-Wiri before he could work any sorcery. We were led to the altar. Az Al-Wiri gave me a funny look as I towered over him, but he’d had so much wine, and was so eager to take over Katja’s kingdom, that he shelved any

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worries, putting the ring on my finger. “At last, I may kiss thee!” he exclaimed. He puckered his wrinkly lips, leaning in for the kiss.

I raised the veil, and Az Al-Wiri opened his eyes to see my angry, bearded face.

“Desert rat,” I roared. “Prepare to go to the Ever Again!” That was the signal. My men attacked, surprising all the cutthroats assembled.

The tent became a whirlwind of flashing steel. I shot a hand out, gripping Al-Wiri by his scrawny neck, but before I could break it, I felt it melt beneath my hands into something small, furry and wriggling. He’d dissolved himself into rats, dozens of them. They scurried away. I lost them in the haze of battle, fending off his soldiers, all the while fighting in a wedding dress. The tent began to partly collapse from the elephant and camels crashing in on it, but the central poles held, the canvas drooping, part of it catching on fire from the candles. It was a chaotic moment, the kind to warm the heart of a Viking. I felt the battle lust run through me like a charge. “Where are you, wizard?” I yelled.

There was a sound of rushing air, a sort of snapping noise that I did not like the sound of at all, and wicked laughter. I heard a keening musical note and was startled to see Az Al-Wiri, reassembled, playing a weird stringed instrument, like a violin. The sky was suddenly dark with ominous clouds, as if he called them down with the

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strange music. It began to pour rain. Lightning crashed from the clouds, touching down, sizzling into the sands around us. A bolt struck one of my warriors, sending him flying in a shower of sparks.

Another bolt struck, lighting the ruined tent blue and white. It took on a human shape with arms, legs, a head. A warrior of lightning! The flashing, crackling thing laid about, scattering friend and foe alike. Al-Wiri’s eyes sought me out in the crowd. The lightning warrior moved toward me, Al-Wiri close behind, directing it.

Confronting the creature, I remembered the Krampus. Doubtless this was another enslaved star-being like him, just yearning for freedom. I yelled above the noise of battle and the arcing electricity, “Oh demon from beyond, I know you would be set free! I would take you from your misery, that you may slay this worthless wizard!”

I was hoping the thing would bare its breast to my blade, Krampusstyle. But it kept moving to me with evil intention. I swore, and plunged a sword into it. That was a bad idea. Electricity shivered up my arm, standing all my hair on end and flinging me onto a table.

Half-full wine goblets flew up, up and into the flickering demon.

When they hit, the liquid seemed to explode, staggering the creature, halting it for a moment. This was long before anyone knew about how water can short circuit electricity. We didn’t have any circuits, let alone short ones! But liquids clearly played havoc with the light-

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ning warrior. There was plenty of water raining from the clouds, but under the canopy where we fought it was still dry. The thing made for me again, Al-Wiri behind it, sawing away on his infernal fiddle.

Then I noticed the drooping canvas ceiling of the tent above had filled with rain water. A lot of rain water!

Al-Wiri’s evil little face was overjoyed as he piloted his lightning thing to me. But I didn’t attack him, or the creature. Instead, I got on top of a banquet table. I launched myself through the air, slashing through the bulging canvas. Gallons of rain water spilled down on Al-Wiri and the lightning warrior, with instant results. The creature seized, writhing. The sand underneath was soaked. It conducted the electricity to Al-Wiri in leaping bolts, the lightning backfiring on him. His hands clenched the fiddle but couldn’t play. Al-Wiri fell to the desert floor with a thud and a crunch. The sand beneath him had melted to glass and the creature was gone.

My men and I routed the rest of Al-Wiri’s motley crew, who fled into the desert night. We were congratulating ourselves when I heard the thud of horse hooves approaching. I thought it might be more Al-Wiri allies, late for the wedding, but over the rise came Katja’s guards. She herself rode at their head. “I couldn’t leave you on your own. Besides, you look fetching in that dress,” she said. We laughed, everything had worked out.

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Except it hadn’t. The blackened husk of Az Al-Wiri wasn’t dead yet, he was a tough rat to kill. The ground began to thump, slowly at first. We turned to see the burnt figure of the wizard rhythmically pounding his charred fist into a circle he’d drawn in the sand.

He stopped pounding but the thumping continued, louder, the sand shaking under us. Al-Wiri cursed us through burnt lips: “Laugh well,” he croaked. “Queen without a kingdom!” His breath rattled in his throat, then he was really gone.

But the thumping, now nearly jolting us off our feet, moved across the desert, carving a deep trench as it traveled. “The city!”

Katja said.

We chased the trench, racing after that terrible sound, but couldn’t get ahead of it. We crested a hill overlooking the city and saw...nothing. Golden Alishir was swallowed whole by the desert, only a cloud of dust remained. Maybe it was a trick of the mind, maybe it was the rushing wind, but we heard laughter, the laughter of the cursed wizard Az Al-Wiri, laughing at his terrible revenge.

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chapter 31

Adrift

A

whole city, gone. Oh, how we cried! Katja and I and our

little band of warriors were the only survivors. We cried and we cried. Absolutely nothing left.

But we stayed in that cursed land. We did what we could, which wasn’t much as it turned out. The destruction of Alishir, the death of Al-Wiri, all made a power vacuum. We wanted to make a difference, to do what the Krampus had charged us with, do some good. Maybe this was the time for us to do it, to pull good from terrible evil.

The sheikhs, warlords, sultans and caliphs had enough respect for us to come together in a summit. We urged peace to the warring factions, to try to stop the never-ending strife that that the Al-Wiris of the world benefit from. But we couldn’t, the meeting ended in squab-

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bling over old feuds, the sheikhs yelling at one another. Katja and I, without a state or an army, had no real say. Nothing would change, conflicts must continue, business as usual.

We also had the feeling that even though the tribes respected our grief, we wouldn’t last the season there. They would kill us just because we were in a weakened position.

So we left the desert, mourning the dead and the ones who’d die in the struggles to come. The few survivors of Alishir, our soldiers, some came with us in a sad little caravan, some scattered to the desert. I’d tried once again, we’d tried this time, Katja and I together, to change people. It never really worked out very well. People have to want to change.

Katja and I found our way back to Venice. My treasure waited, and my business had been run well while I was gone. In fact, we were set up in fabulous style, with a palazzo in town and a villa in the country. We passed many apparently pleasant years just being charming rich people. But it wasn’t all pleasant. Inside we grieved our mistakes and failures, haunted by the ghosts of Alishir. Our bitter experiences turned us away from interfering with states and war. It seemed futile after the failures we’d had.

We were adrift. We got into a fairly un-Santa-and-Mrs.-Clauslike life of parties, whirlwind socializing, fun fun fun, all the fun

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money could buy. We were trying to forget. On the surface it looked like we were having a great time. But we were always tortured by our promise to the Krampus, even when we were living it up at this or that grand party. I remember seeing Katja across the room at a Carnivale bash in Venice. Everyone was dressed in their crazy costumes and having a fantastic time. But Katja looked sad, lost, like she was seeking something she knew she’d never find.

The only thing we were able to do on a regular basis was the gift-giving. We did it every year, for poor children, and always anonymously. Legends began to spring up about who brought the gifts. It was a saint they said. I had to laugh at that, a saint, me? But it gratified us to do this supposed saint’s work, Katja and I. She had the toys secretly made by skilled Venetian craftsmen, who were paid well to keep quiet. I did the deliveries. That was enough for a while. To bring joy to a few innocent unspoilt children, to let them believe in magic and good in the world, that was rewarding, that felt right. But we still grew restless.

One rainy afternoon in Venice, Katja looked out over the Grand Canal. A storm was coming in over the water. She said, “There has to be more, don’t you think?”

“But what? Get back into the king and queen business?”

“I’ve been thinking about it. There’s someone we could ask, you

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know? Someone who could give us some good advice,” Katja said.

“Who? There’s no one like us.”

Behind her the storm lowered over the canal, the whole wide world cold, misty, and grey. Katja said, “The elves. We’ve got to wake them up. We’ve got to go to Lindisfarne.”

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chapter 32

Go North

I

n the forest above Lindisfarne, we uncovered the rune-carved

stone. I recited the words for the first time in centuries. At first, nothing happened. Then the stone rumbled, rolling aside in a cloud of ancient dust, opening the tunnel into the dark, cold earth. There were no signs of life, only a scroll, rolled up on the floor. It was a map of the world. There was a large X at the very top of the world, as far as you could go. A scribbled message read: GO NORTH. Now it was one thing to go from Arabia to the continent in those days, but to go from Ireland to the North Pole quite another. Mount-

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ing an expedition like that, let alone keeping it a secret was a tall order. We couldn’t very well take along a lot of people or help, seeing as how we were immortals looking for elves, for goodness sake! But there was nothing else for it, we had to find out what we were meant for. Fortunately for us, this was a golden age of exploration. We wended our way north on ships charting unknown lands, as quiet financiers of these expeditions. Far into the Arctic, we saw glaciers of blue ice in frozen seas, packs of weird animals, penguins, whales, it was all new and exciting.

Finally we arrived at the last northern outpost of civilization. We outfitted a large sled with a pack of huskies to pull it, and set off through the white wastes. Speaking the animal language came in handy again. “Oh yes, avoid that sweep of ice over there,” the pack dogs would tell me, or “Wait by this hole in the ice here, and you can spear a seal for dinner.” Katja would sing to the dogs as we rode, and they would bark along. She became the Ear Scratcher again.

The days went by, always we headed north. We reached a rocky plain the sled couldn’t pass over. The plain ascended at an angle, till it reached a small peak perhaps ten miles off. The strange Northern Lights played above the peak, shifting green, blue and yellow sheets of glowing color. “Those what goes there never comes out,” the lead dog said. “It’s the Last Place. It’s a bad place. Bad animals there.”

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“The elves would protect themselves,” I pointed out.

“But us...they would let us in....wouldn’t they?” Katja looked uncertain. I was too, a little. I had no doubt the elves would have good will toward me, but who knew if they were awake or alive or what had driven them to this frozen land?

“After all this, to turn back?” I asked.

“No, we have to go through with it. But what about the dogs?” said Katja.

I put the question to the pack. Their leader said, “We’ll wait for you here for nine suns. If you don’t come back, we’ll know you’re lost. It’ll be easy to find our way back to our home, especially without pulling that heavy sled, and we can live off the spring thaw, there will be plenty to eat. But you...are you sure?”

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chapter 33

What The Cat Dragged In

W

e were sure.

Sure that if the elves were anywhere in this nightmare landscape,

it would be in the worst possible place. They’d want to be well away from people, from civilization. The Last Place fit the bill. It was a hellish spot, nothing but ice, snow, and rock columns, the wind whistling through like the blazes. We clambered over thick sheets of broken ice, jumbled like a giant toy blocks. We may as well have been on the moon. My beard had icicles hanging from it. We gingerly found our way over trembling ice bridges above freezing waters. We trudged across rocky plains strewn with sharp stones. All the while, the eerie Northern Lights danced overhead as if showing us the way.

Through a spyglass I made out in the peak something round. something much like the rune-covered stone in Lindisfarne. Not taking my eye off the stone, I held the glass out to Katja, behind me.

“Here, take a look.”

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“I think you might want to take a look at this first. Turn very slowly please, and try hard

not to look it in the eye.” I

heard alarm in her voice. It

was a polar bear, ten feet tall,

and snarling at us. “ I am

the guard of the western

pass! Turn back or you

shall perish!”

I pled: “O brother

bear, we have journeyed far,

we mean no harm!”

The bear was startled to

hear me speak its language,

and stopped for a moment.

But bears are single-minded.

“None shall approach!” He

dropped to all fours, roar-

ing. “You shall perish!”

“Katja, run!” But she didn’t run. She stood next to me.

“Maybe we can take it down together,” she said. We had only ice axes to fight with. The white bear charged but he never reached us.

Something slammed into him, knocking him over in a dust-cloud of snow. The bear grunted, fell on his haunches, wheezing from the impact. Standing between us was a huge reindeer, a familiar reindeer, a magnificent reindeer! The bear sat up, bewildered. He said, “Why did you do that, Reindeer King? I’m doing my job! None shall approach!”

“Calm, calm brother bear. I had to stop you, someone would’ve gotten hurt,” Donner said. “These two are known to me. They can approach, of all humans.” Then he turned to us, “Nikolai...and Katja

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too! You have found one another again, I rejoice to see you!”

“And we you! Not a moment too soon!”

“Ah, brother bear was only doing his job.”

“They’re here? The elves?”

“Oh, yes.You found the map, obviously.”

“But why here, why to this lonely place? And what are you doing here?”

“Mmm, well, elves require privacy, you know. Lindisfarne, the pilgrims, the hunters, the locals, the town expanding, spreading...all sorts of people stumble through those woods. They hear legends of elves and treasure, and some of them actually found the stone, you see. Humans, once they’re curious, they just can’t help themselves.

The elves weren’t having it. They needed some place quiet to carry on their work. They decided to go far away, somewhere dangerous to go, forbidding, this place, the North Pole. As for us reindeer, it was the same problem really. We hung on in the woods there for a long while, watching over the elves’ rest and all, but when humans hear tell of magic reindeer, flying reindeer, or any reindeer, they all want to catch us or eat us. When the elves offered us a place with them, well, it seemed the best for the herd, so here we are.”

“But you said they needed a place to carry on their work,” Katja asked. “What work? I thought they were asleep?”

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What The Cat Dragged In

“Asleep?” Donner laughed. “They never sleep! They’re elves – they need to keep busy!” We’d arrived at the round rock, Donner leading the way, the bear behind us. It rumbled and rolled aside, clumps of snow falling as it moved. The tunnel into the cliff was floored in wood, the walls plastered and finished, lit with soft, warm light from marvelous crystals embedded in the ceiling. It was also mercifully warm! Donner laughed. “Nice, eh? Building it was a task, believe me!” The entry opened into a larger, high-ceilinged chamber, like a lobby, with multiple arches to different halls, all going deeper back into the peak.

The hall was so high there were birds flying inside. Elves were to and fro everywhere, everyone busy. We just stood there gawping for a moment. Then a familiar voice called out: “Hello hello!” There he was, not aged a day after all the centuries, little red-bearded Snorri.

He laughed. “Well, well, look what the cat dragged in!”

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chapter 34

Busy, Busy, Busy

W

e’d thought it’d be a tomb, with the elves laid out in cas-

kets. But when they’d said they needed to go into the Earth, they meant just to be away, secluded from the world - not asleep. This strange citadel was alive with activity.

“We thought you’d be...I don’t know...napping?” Katja asked.

Introductions had been made, and now it was time to catch up.

“Oh no my dear, we are elves, every type of busy you know, busy hands, busy minds, busy, busy, busy. We just...” Snorri sighed, wistful. “We like to be occupied. This place suits us well, Lindisfarne was getting too hot!”

Snorri led us down a hall that turned into a bridge over a vast ice crevasse. Below, a river of blue water flowed, turning massive wheels providing power to dynamos. Billowing clouds of steam rose around

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Busy, Busy, Busy

the bridge.

We followed Snorri into a huge cavern, a giant hollow carved out of the rock. Windows blasted into the rock ceiling, glassed over in thick ice, let in shafts of sunlight. The strange, giant crystals we’d seen in the hallway were here too, set in the walls, glowing with light and heat. The air was warm as a spring evening and smelled of jasmine. A tree as tall as Rathi’s fortress was planted in the middle, and all throughout its branches were living quarters, a village of treehouses.

That was a wonder, but Harzach said, “I think you two may be most interested in what we’ve been putting our hand to for centuries now.” In a warehouse-sized room, elves were all at worktables, hammering, sanding, cutting, painting, making toys, ships, dolls, tops, jack-in-the-boxes, hobby horses, all manner of toys. But the work stopped when they saw Katja and I in the doorway. Then all the elves burst out laughing!

I asked Snorri, “What’s so funny?”

“Oh, Harzach was saying you two would be along any day now, that you’d eventually have enough of the world. Come on, let me show you around. You see, here are the plans we’re working on.”

There was a long stretch of boards along one wall, covered in blueprints and diagrams of toys to be built.

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“Are these the Krampus’ designs?”

“Yes, from the Krampus we’ve taken a lot. The marvels he came up with! Stupendous toys, intricate, fascinating!”

“But why do you do it?” Katja asked.

Snorri laughed. “Elves can’t just sit around,” he said. “The Krampus’ designs were so good, we just started making them. That’s what elves are good at.”

What were we good at? Katja and I had a long talk with Snorri, sitting on the front porch of a cottage in the giant tree at the North Pole. We told him how we felt aimless, how we’d tried and failed to come up with any good use of the gift the Krampus’d given us. We didn’t know what our path should be. We told him about how we had both ruled kingdoms. We told him about our sadness seeing our friends and loved ones grow old and die around us while we lived on.

We told him about Alishir. We told him about the futility of trying to stop wars, trying to govern, trying to be major players in history.

We told him about our centuries adrift. And we told him about the children we gave gifts to each year.

“Out of all these things, this, giving gifts to children, giving of yourselves really, this is the thing where your eyes light up, where your voices become impassioned!”

“Well, it is nice, it’s fun and...”

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Katja interrupted shyly, “We can’t have children of our own, and we love them so.”

Snorri lit a pipe, squinting through the smoke at us. “But you make them your own by giving to them. Seemingly a small thing.

Children are small things too, but they grow. Don’t you think knowing kindness and joy in youth translates to a kinder life as an adult?

Someone eternally unselfish and giving, well...people like that might have more effect on the world than a thousand kings and queens.” He blew out a smoke ring. Then he seemed to decide something, rapping his knuckles on the table. “Let us see, let us see. Let me confer with my fellows. Have something to eat, get some rest, and I’ll return for you.”

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chapter 35

The Ring of Trees

T

he next day Snorri took us deeper into the elves’ domain to

another massive chamber cut from the living rock. There in the room was a meadow covered in lush green grass, a mild breeze from nowhere ruffling it.

Snorri said, “They like their comforts, as do all elves, and they love nature, as do all elves. They are very, very old. Come on, they’re waiting in the Ring of Trees.” The meadow led to a grove of trees.

Snorri led us to twelve trees in a circle. A campfire burned in the center, lighting the shady green with a mellow orange glow. It was hard to tell if it was day or night, the Ring of Trees was somehow 190

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outside of time as the rest of the world experienced it. At the base of each tree, in chairs of polished wood, sat an extremely aged elf, grey beards down to their belt buckles. Snorri bowed to them, Katja and I bowed too. I didn’t know what to say. Katja kept her wits, though.

She said, “We are honored.”

The very oldest of them, he must’ve been around when dinosaurs walked, spoke. “You’ve come very far just to see us. Impressive. You’ve shown your mettle time and again. Rathi...he was bad.”

He gestured to the trees, the meadow, all of it, the elvish kingdom at the end of the world. “All this wouldn’t be possible without you, what you did. Snorri tells us you want to do further kindness to your people, but don’t know how. You’ve tried to turn them from their unkind ways, but failed, with fatal results. What now, eh, what now?”

It was a bit unkind, this old geezer elf’s assessment of us. I felt a little offended, but Katja answered first: “That’s why we’re here, to ask you what you think.”

“Mm-hm, yes, and we have thought on it, all of us. We may have something for you. Would you take another challenge...undertake a change?”

I said, “Would it help us? Help us to be worthy of what he...the Krampus...gave us?”

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“Yes, we know about the Krampus, the visitor, the star flyer. A stalwart heart at the finish and a fine toy designer also!” He pulled a jack-in-the-box from under his seat and wound it till the little puppet popped out of the box. At this all the other elves laughed, and the one who’d been speaking laughed too, slapping his thigh. “Ha ha ha!

I never get tired of that one!” I must have looked vexed, because the old elf winked and said, “Oh, lighten up, Fineheair! Laughter and joy are in scant supply in the world, enjoy them when you can!” Then his face darkened. “We fled, you know. Fled your world for this place.

We’re afraid of what humans’ll become, of the power you’ll wield over the earth soon. And it will be soon, in our terms, in the terms of the trees, the rocks, the things what abide, watching time go by.

Humans love war, love doing harm to one another, love to take and not give. But there’s also a good side, isn’t there? We see it in people like you two. It’s like you humans are at war with yourselves all the time, between your good selves and your bad selves.”

Another took up what he was saying: “Your people, they need encouragement to be better. They need a lesson. Lessons are best taught to the young.”

A third said: “Snorri told us of your work with children, giving gifts with no expectation of recognition or reward. This is...well, you’re on to something worthwhile. Purely giving, never taking.

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Maybe it will inspire your fellow humans, to do the same.”

Another took it up: “What we’re proposing is for you to continue doing this, this gift-giving, yes? But on a larger scale, for you to become a symbol, lord and lady of this giving spirit. Of what is best in you. Even if it’s only for one day a year.”

The first said, “Would you be this symbol, the two of you? It will involve quite a bit of work, making things and, uh...”

“Legwork,” said the second.

“Yes, yes, legwork! But we can make it easier for you, speed things up a bit eh? The deliveries.”

“Many things are within our reach,” said the third.

“Yes, yes. We’re magic you know,” the first said, smiling, and the others laughed. “So this is our proposal, yes? Our solution to your confusion, for the two of you. Each keeping the other, working together. But to do this, another change to you, to your bodies, must be done. There’s nothing else to say really, but will you accept? Hm, another mission from the pesky elves!”

We took each other’s hands, there in the Ring of Trees. Katja spoke for us. “Will it hurt?”

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chapter 36

The Thing of the Universe

T

he elves joined hands. the campfire flared, changed colors to

purple, green, yellow, shifting like the Northern Lights, then became a constant reddish orange. The elves began to glow. From the inside out, first from where their hearts are, then down through their veins, rivers of white light filling their entire bodies. They were chanting something, it got louder and louder. It was frightening, but also beautiful. Like the Krampus when he changed, they transformed.

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They became all white light, crackling, sparking, elongated, like a chain of glowing paper dolls. The chain began moving in a circle.

And the glow, the light took over Katja and I too, till we were, we were...

In the diner, he smiles, shrugs and says, “There really is a force

in the universe. There’s all sorts of names for it, but everyone longs for it in some way, don’t they?”

“Yes, everyone does.”

“But you hardly ever feel it. It’s a distant thing. It’s outside of science, outside of technology, it’s something like...I’ve been around for centuries, but I still can’t put a name to it. Poetry, maybe. Maybe you feel it seeing a leaf fall from a tree, or in the moment your child is

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born, or when you really, truly fall in love with someone, and them with you, but it’s there. It’s always there. It isn’t something that’s really going to listen to you. But you can listen to it. And it was there, then, in the Ring of Trees. Really there! It was the thing, the Thing of the Universe.

You know, the word ‘thing’, it’s Norse, it’s Viking language. It means a meeting, an assembly. The Thing of the Universe, the Ever and Ever Again. It filled that place. And then it left, and everything was back to normal, if you can call the elves’ kingdom at the North Pole normal. It was unchanged. But Katja and I, we were changed.”

The old elf told us: “We gave you the power to talk to animals, we helped you with Fenris, and you did what we set you out to do for us against Rathi. The Krampus gave you his gift of long life.

And now there’s more gifts for you. You’ll be everywhere at once, fast, unseen, like the wind. And time is changed for you when you want it to be. Slowed or even stopped for a while. And there are no obstacles to you any more in the material world. Walls, doors, locks, stone, brick and mortar, none of those things will slow you. Walk through them like a phantom. Speed, time, and space are yours to command.”

The elder said, “Your use is to show love and kindness, that those who feel it will remember what you do and carry it on, down

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through the ages. To give a gift is your task now, your burden and your reward. Be the symbol of peace, love, generosity, kindness, laughter, joy. That is our gift to you. All our resources are here for you, all our craft and determination. Ever and ever again.” Then all these antique elves startled us by laughing! Slowly at first, then really guffawing! And I have to admit it was kind of funny. Me, the Viking warrior, and Katja, the rough girl from a tiny village, set to do this!

We laughed too, and may have cried a little. The elves were all shaking our hands, hugging us, and breaking out some sort of elf beer that got us all loopy! Elves do love a good time.

As we walked back to our quarters, Snorri was excited, outlining the plan. “You’ll do as you did before, you know, but on a grand scale.

But you have some figuring to do on how to do it exactly, how to go about it, who you’ll be.” We climbed to the treehouse they’d put us up in, Snorri banging on about how glorious it all would be, till he finally left us.

Both exhausted and a little woozy, we fell asleep gratefully. The next morning, Katja found me on the porch of the little treehouse, looking out through the branches at the rustling leaves. “What are you thinking?” she asked.

“I was thinking...well, how to do what they asked.”

“I’ve been thinking too. We’ll do it together, but one person must

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be the focus, don’t you think, to capture the imagination of children?

You should be that person, Nikolai. As before, like we did in Venice.

I supervise the making and you do the delivery. You will be secret, but you should also be seen, sometimes, to build a legend around.

And I was thinking there should be a costume for people to recognize.”

“This all began in Rathi’s fortress. Remember that red uniform and the coat of Fenris?”

“Where’s the coat of Fenris now?”

“It’s in a trunk back in Venice. It’s a little ragged now, centuries old, you know. Maybe there’s still a little magic left in it though.”

“You’ll need that! Fenris would be happy. I remember your red uniform as if it was yesterday, very handsome you were in it. And I like that it’s from whence you came and all that. Let me see....”

She drew an outfit that was pretty close to what I wear today. “Red uniform of Rathi, reminder of the ways we leave behind. White trim of Fenris’ coat, reminder of the Ever Again. And a cap to keep your head warm!”

We decided to set out for Venice that night. The fast way.

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chapter 37

The Gift

W

e couldn’t very well sail back to Venice, not with thou-

sands of miles of ice and ocean between. But we could fly, perhaps.

So we got on Donner’s back, at Snorri’s urging. “Time and distance are yours to command now.The Reindeer King is the vehicle, but the source is within you. The elements, time, space, material, none of these affect you when you use the gift. Think of where you want to go. You’ll get the hang.” Donner kicked off into the sky, and I thought, I thought hard, and then everything was whooshing by and we were going very, very, very fast, and the next thing I heard was

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water lapping.

We were outside our palazzo in Venice. It was Carnivale time again, when Venice transforms itself into one big costume ball.

Passersby in costumes and masks gawked at us. Then they congratulated us on our creativity, what an excellent idea for Carnivale, riding around on a reindeer! My startled servants let us in the palazzo. We found Fenris’ coat in the trunk, and were back at the Pole in as long as it took to think about it. Elvish magic, ho ho ho!

In the diner, out of the blue, Jackie asks: “Can you die?”

“Oh yes, yes, we will, but not for quite some time. We do age, but slowly. So there’s a lot of Christmases left to us but eventually...pfft.

And I hope...we hope, Katja and I, that there’s someone, somewhere to carry on for us.” He’s looking at her in that way again, Jackie notices. Like he’s looking into her, looking for something. But she shakes it off, she must be mistaken, and anyway she has so many questions to ask him before he goes.

“Do you actually go into every house? I mean, I give Tommy all the presents every year, and there’s never been any mystery presents under the tree that came from Santa!”

“No, not in every house, not any more, there’s too many houses now! But the gifts, the idea of the gifts comes from the tradition we began all those centuries ago. It’s...ugh, it’s become twisted a little. So

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commercialized now with the Black Fridays and the Cyber Mondays and that music, I mean, some of it is really terrible! But I think, I hope...well, I know that people still get it, still get the idea of generosity and love.”

The hourglass glow pulses faster now. “I have to be on my way soon, so let me wrap it up. Wrap it up, ha! Katja and I decided I’d need a way to get around. Again we thought of Rathi, and how we began.We thought of his war machines, the sleds, and we thought it would be good to make a sled the vehicle, the means of transport.

We had Donner and his flying reindeer offspring to pull it. By then there were generations of them. Katja and Snorri supervised the making of the toys, and soon we were set for our first official Christmas.

There were loads of bugs, problems, kinks in the process, but we eventually got it down. At first, I did give out gifts to all the world, but the world was so much smaller then. As the population’s grown and the idea of Santa’s spread, I’ve become mostly a symbol, which was the plan all along. A symbol for kids and everyone who was a kid once, which is everybody. And people just carried on giving, all on their own, you see. That’s the miracle of Christmas. It’s kind of like the Ever Again and the Ring of Trees and the Thing of the Universe.

Something outside time, outside the normal world. Something of the

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spirit. It doesn’t have to be expensive or elaborate or even an object really, Christmas is a kind act, a gentle touch, a little laughter and joy.

And hopefully people carry on that spirit throughout the rest of the year too, in their daily lives. Yes, we can hope they do that! So much of what we do is based on hope. And me, I do still go out giving gifts to those who won’t get them otherwise. And sometimes, once in a very great while, I still dare to put my hand out to people who deserve it, who need it. And who can maybe help us, help our cause.

People like you.”

“Me? I don’t...?”

“Oh yes, dear, you. You don’t live as long as I have without getting some insight into human nature. I’ve met many interesting people over the years. When Katja and I aren’t doing this? We’ve done lots of other things. Remember that elvish good luck wish? ‘May you have many names before your time is done?’ I’ve been Nikolai Finehair, I’ve been Jarl of the Rus, I’ve been Nicola of Venice, Pere Noel, Dun Che Lao Ren, Weinachtsmann, Father Christmas. I’ve had many, many names, and I’ve lived many, many lives. We’ve seen the world a thousand times over. Katja and I have graduated a hundred times, from a hundred universities, with a hundred degrees. I’m a great believer in education, you know, learning, understanding, being useful. Yes, we’ve been to school. We’ve hobnobbed with kings

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and queens and presidents. They have no idea who we are or how we got in their circles, but there we are. It’s funny, they always say I look familiar. We’ve met the good, the bad and the in-between. Scientists, leaders, holy men. We were friends with Lincoln. I did the washing up at Schweitzer’s clinic.We marched with Gandhi, with King. We saw something in them too.”

“But...they were great people, doing amazing things.”

“Everyone has to start somewhere. It’s not about scale. It boils down to people doing the best they can to help...advance the species, I suppose you could say. I do think of the Krampus and what he was and what we are, humans of Earth. The Krampus, he’s out there right now somewhere flying free, a being of pure thought and energy untied to any material, any competition, any struggle for survival, a being at one with the Thing of the Universe. Maybe that’s where we humans are headed. Bit by bit, little by little. To becoming things of pure energy, pure thought. And maybe we can all help the process along, each in our way. Katja and I, we’ve stuck to our mission: just the kids, just giving. But there’re other forces in the world for good, things others can do. Even right here, right here in your town, in your own part of the world. Especially right here. Wherever you are.”

He gets up, closing his to-go box of danish. “That Thing of the Universe, I can tell you without any doubt at all, it wants us to be

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happy. It doesn’t want us to grieve or to be afraid, it just wants us to be...to be nice to one another, it’s as simple as that, to be kind.” The glowing hourglass starts purring. “Mmm, I have to be in Sheboygan in five minutes.”

“I – I don’t know what to say. Thank you for telling me all this.”

Jackie laughs awkwardly, holding up her bandaged hands. “Thanks for saving me. Thanks for the first aid. How did you say it? Ekki at pakka?”

“Oh, very good, very good Norse!” He looks in her eyes. “There’s a lot of bad things in this world. I can’t stop the sled for all of them, you know. I do see something in you. I see a good heart. I feel I know all about you, just from seeing you help that woman. I see courage. I see selflessness. I see...well, I see love. I see possibility. I see concern for those around you, for your fellow humans, and I see that you’re stuck. And if you weren’t stuck, maybe you could really help, you know, advance the species. Help others.”

“But what can I do? I can barely pay the bills.”

“I know. But if someone gave you a chance like I got, to start over, you could do so much.” He’s walking around to the frozen figures of Cathy the waitress, Mark the manager, the policeman, putting something in each of their pockets. “A Christmas present. Of course, such a person would need allies, like I had. Maybe this bunch, if

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they believe too. They’re not magic animals, but we work with what we’ve got.” The hourglass is pulsing light and purring like crazy now.

“I have to go. If your circumstances were to change, remember to do something useful, eh? Remember Santa Claus. Oh yes, and remember to laugh, too!”

“I don’t...what do you mean?”

He kisses her on the forehead. “You can be a leader, I think. You’ve got it in you, brave girl.”

“Please...wait. I’ve been...” Her voice cracks, and Jackie’s face twists with rushing emotion. Her eyes fill with hot tears. She feels grief and she feels a wild hope. She realizes she’s been waiting so long, waiting for something she couldn’t name, waiting for something good. Waiting for the Thing of the Universe. “Please...please. You have to tell me...”

“I have to go.”

“I’m just...I want to...I want to so badly. It’s like you said, it’s what everyone wants, isn’t it? Just to be useful, really useful. I mean, I do. I want to help, I want to give, I’m tired of everything being so screwed up. If I could make a difference...but how? I’m just one person!”

He wipes away her tears. He smiles at her so warmly, like the sun over the ocean. He’s holding her bandaged hands, pressing things into them, small, hard things, closing her fingers over them.

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“Everyone is just one person. If you really want to, you’ll find a way.

And I know you really want to. Merry Christmas!” He lets go, claps his hands like before, and...

Snap.

The diner’s come to life again. The coffee hanging in midair splashes to the floor, the policeman pulls his pepper spray out, Mark the manager’s yelling for Nikolai to let go of the disinfectant, right where he left off, and then they all stop. Because Nikolai’s not there.

“Where’d he go?” Mark says.

Jackie blinks. Tears are in her eyes. Did that just happen? She feels something in her hands. She opens them and gasps. Big diamonds, big as robin’s eggs, five or six in each hand. Jackie forgets to breathe for a minute.

Cathy the waitress and the others all gawp at the stones. Cathy says, “Oh my God, hon...where did those come from?”

Mark the manager says. “Hey, who ate all the Danish?”

They’re startled by hoofbeats and a sound of something really big, really heavy, scraping along on the roof. The diner shakes and rumbles, cups rattle in the saucers, a ceiling tile falls, lights flicker on and off. The noise moves overhead like rolling thunder, then is gone.

Everyone is still, until the policeman hustles outside. He comes back inside, shaking his head. “I don’t know...” he says.

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In a small voice, Jackie says: “Santa Claus has left the building.”

Cathy says, “That was...” Her eyes grow wide and she claps her hand over her mouth, like she just can’t say it, what she’s thinking.

“What was that?” Mark says. “What’s wrong with the TV?” The TV is still frozen on the scene from It’s A Wonderful Life, but then it too kick-starts back to regular time.

The policeman says, “What was...uh...Miss...where did you meet that man? Was he...I mean, who...?” He gives up, then laughs.

“You’re kidding me. On Christmas Eve.” Cathy the waitress, Mark the manager, the policeman, all smile a little uncertainly. They aren’t sure what just happened here, but it seems like magic. They’d like to believe in magic. Wouldn’t everyone? Wouldn’t you?

Tommy...Jackie remembers her son. “I have to go! I have to go!

I’ll come back! I’ll pay for the Danish!” She runs out the door, then runs back in, breathless. “Look in your pockets!” Then she’s back outside. She hopes those muggers are gone! She scans the street, it’s empty. She stops and laughs out loud. She looks back inside the diner. Cathy the waitress pulls something shiny from her pocket, holds it in her hand, her jaw hanging open. The others do the same, with the same result. They’re all looking around for an answer, like how did this happen and what are they supposed to do about it?

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Jackie pounds on the glass. They all look at her, startled. She yells, “Merry Christmas!” They all gape at her for a moment, then laugh (well, Cathy’s actually crying a little, and the cop looks like he could go that way too), then wave at her and say Merry Christmas too. “I’ll be back,” Jackie yells. “We need to talk!”

She rummages in her pocket for her car keys. There they are, next to the stones. She looks up. She sees something far off through the falling snow, moving fast. Headed for Sheboygan.

Then she knows. She knows it’s important, what he told her, what he gave her, the gift. She knows she’ll figure it out. She’ll have things to do. He set her free to do something. And she will, but not today.

Today is for something else. Today is special.

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Today is Christmas.

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