by penny watson
“God in Heaven, what the Hell was that?” Hieronymus ducked as a loose text flew out of the shelves and barely missed his head.
“I think it came from outside, somewhere to the south,” said Ingo. He and his friends raced to the only window in the room, joined by the other scholars. They all peered into the sky and watched as blood-red flames and billowing smoke erupted in the distance.
Master Ralf trembled. “Where is it coming from? Can anyone tell?”
Ingo watched the steady stream of smoke pouring into the sky and grimaced. “I think that’s the Recreation Plaza.”
“Or, rather, was the Recreation Plaza,” said Loki.
“Uh oh. Oskar’s not going to be too happy about that,” Hie murmured, watching the spectacle.
“The Weihnachtsmann isn’t going to be too happy either,” said Master Ralf. “I hope they can get that blaze under control. I wonder what caused the explosion?”
Ingo and his friends looked at each other and nodded. They stepped away from the other elves and whispered together.
“I told you that Wiebe was up to no good!” Hie said.
“But why start a fire at the Plaza?” Loki asked. “It makes no sense. What good would come from it?”
Ingo shook his head. “It can’t be a coincidence that we saw Wiebe there today and now the plaza’s on fire. I don’t know what he’s up to, but there must be a reason.” He stroked his beard. “Let’s go. I want to see what’s happening and if there’s an explanation. Maybe it was a faulty pipe or something.”
“My gut’s telling me it weren’t no damned pipe,” Hie said, folding his arms across his chest.
Ingo silently agreed. “Before we condemn the elf, let’s see what’s happening at the Plaza. There’s bound to be a big crowd there by now.”
Loki sniffed. “What about the reversal spell?” He gestured to the ornery books hopping around the table.
“I’ll have to come back later.” Ingo put a hand on Ralf’s shoulder. “Master Ralf, we’re going to check out the Plaza. Could you please leave those books out for me? I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“Of course, Mr. Hertz. Be safe.”
Ingo and his friends raced from the library, with the taunting comments of past Bändigers in their ears. As he jumped off the last step in the front of the building, Ingo felt something trip him and he landed flat on his face in the snow.
“Quit being so clumsy, Ingo. Let’s go!” Loki shouted from the sleigh.
Ingo looked back over his shoulder and for a second, he swore there was a string pulled taut across the bottom step. Then it disappeared. It must have been his imagination.
“My God.” Oskar stared in stunned disbelief at the charred remnants of the Glasdorf Theater. “What the hell happened here?” A well-organized troop of volunteer elfin firefighters hosed down the smoking embers, which were all that remained of the gutted building. His throat felt tight as he gazed around the Recreational Plaza, cluttered with elves milling about, talking in hushed voices.
The plaza was vitally important to the population of Glasdorf. The elves lived in total isolation at the northern most point on earth. Other than the village, the recreation park was the only option for entertainment. It housed a theater for musical and dramatic productions, a gymnasium for sporting events, art studios for the kids, and an elaborate indoor greenhouse for elves suffering from seasonal affective disorder. Not to mention Oskar’s office.
Located on top of the auditorium, his office had become the Grand Central Station of the North Pole. A nonstop parade of irate workers, rambunctious children, concerned wives, and even Council members traipsed through on a daily basis. He’d fixed it up himself with an incredible surround sound system piping in his favorite alternative music, comfy furniture hand-designed by Sven, and an enormous “snow slide” which connected the back of his office to a snowy lot behind the building.
He watched the smoke curl slowly from the burnt structure and shook his head in bewilderment. This had been his home away from home for the past ten years of his life. He’d spent hours here calming down angry employees and making peace over a beer. Thankful wives showed up at all hours of the day and night bearing honey cakes and homemade snowberry jam. Groups of children often serenaded him in his office, belting out Christmas carols in their high-pitched voices. He liked it best of all when his brothers stopped by to hang out, play a round of darts, and shoot the bull about their day. All of his memories seemed to run into each other, blurring together. As much as he complained about his job, seeing the carnage that was once his office left him with an aching sense of loss.
“Oskar? What are we going to do?” The tremulous voice came from Hans, an elf who often helped organize events for special occasions. He was surrounded by his wife and children, who looked lost and forlorn. Oskar laid a comforting hand on Hans’ shoulder.
“Don’t worry, Hans. We’ve got the fire under control. I have no doubt we’ll be able to clean up this mess and rebuild our theater as soon as possible.” He knelt down next to Hans’ son, Jürgen, and ruffled his hair. “I remember you are a talented painter, Jürg. Maybe when I rebuild my office you could donate some of your artwork to decorate. Would that be okay?”
Jürg nodded and flung his arms around Oskar’s neck. “Uh huh,” he answered. “Do you like rainbows?”
Oskar smiled. “Rainbow paintings would be perfect.”
“Yah, no problem.” The small boy kissed his cheek.
Hans and Oskar shook hands, and then the elf led his family toward home.
Oskar glanced up to see his father weaving through the crowd. Nicholas Senior, a.k.a. Santa Claus, cut a formidable figure as he reassured the troubled elves. Contrary to popular belief, Mr. and Mrs. Klaus were neither plump, nor rosy-cheeked, nor particularly jolly. His father reminded him of a grizzly bear—massive, intimidating, loyal and protective. After years of training for marathons, his body was a well-honed machine, muscular and fit. And Oskar’s mother was his perfect companion. A petite silver-haired pixie, she competed in triathlons right along side her husband.
Santa was looking a bit the worse for wear today. He’d been the first one called when the fire erupted, and of course grabbed a hose and worked side by side with the elves to battle the inferno. His Nike sweatshirt was covered with ash and soot, his face streaked with grime.
Oskar rubbed a hand through his hair as his father approached. “Hi Dad. I got here as fast as I could.”
His father pulled him in for a tight bear hug. “I’m so sorry, Oskar. This must be devastating for you.” Santa stared at the wreckage and shook his head. “What a damned mess.”
“Where’s mom?” Oskar glanced around anxiously.
“She’s fine. Consoling some of the elves who are quite distraught. The children are especially frightened.”
“I don’t understand this. We have a top of the line sprinkler system installed. Any fires should have been doused before they got out of hand.”
Nicholas Sr. stroked his goatee and nodded. “I hate to tell you this, O, but the sprinkler system was disengaged.”
“What? That’s not possible. I am the only one with the code.”
His father shook his head. “I’m just telling you what the firemen discovered. The smoke detectors and sprinkler were off, and there’s no sign of any accelerant either. They don’t know what caused the initial explosion, but it appears to have started in your office. They said the fire burned so hot, everything was completely obliterated.” Nick Sr. wiped the sweat from his brow with a bandana. “They don’t think it started from natural causes either.”
Oskar raised a brow at that comment. “What are you saying, Dad?”
“Oskar Klaus. I am glad you have arrived,” a sharp voice interrupted. Master Eugen emerged from a group of elves, and walked toward them with his deliberate gait. “We must talk. Let us find some privacy, shall we?” The three of them walked to the edge of the lot.
Oskar looked down on the tiny magik Bändiger.
Despite his small stature, the elf exuded power and strength. A long white cloak trimmed with fur wrapped around his ancient body. Long frosty braids plaited with gold and silver threads hung down to his waist. All of the elves in Glasdorf feared and respected Eugen, even the Council of Seven. His knowledge of magik was uncontested. At some point during their childhood, the Klaus boys had nicknamed him “Yoda,” inspired by his wrinkled face, slow way of speaking, and totally kick-ass command of Light Magik.
Eugen clasped the forearms of both Oskar and his father in greeting. “This is quite upsetting, is it not? To see the destruction of something so important to our people.”
Nicholas Senior nodded. “We’ll get to the bottom of this, Master Eugen. And start rebuilding right away. It’s a damned shame.”
Eugen’s sharp gaze raked over the plaza. “I am not sure exactly what initiated this fire, but I do sense the presence of Dark Magik here. Something I have not felt for a very long time. And it worries me.”
“Dark Magik? I thought only masters could produce it. Are you saying one of the master Bändigers did this?” Oskar asked in confusion.
Master Eugen shook his head. “I’ve already spoken to your father. I am almost positive that no master had a hand in this.”
Nicholas Senior sighed. “Eugen believes somehow an elf has gotten access to spells conjuring up Dark Magik. It appears we have a rogue elf in Glasdorf, someone willing to risk the repercussions of using these enchantments.”
Oskar groaned. “Has the Council been informed about this? They must be freaking out.”
Eugen nodded. “I have already spoken to Hector. The Council is convening as we speak. They want this investigated and the identity of the rogue determined as quickly as possible.”
Santa patted Oskar on the back. “You’re in charge. Hector and the others want you to trace the source of the magik and identify the culprit.”
Oskar gazed up at the ashy ruins of the theater and ran a hand through his hair. “I can’t wait to get my hands on the little bastard who did this…” His fists balled at his sides as he watched the crowd of elves staring at the fire. Children were crying, parents looked worried. “Let’s get Boris up to speed. He’s my right hand man and will be a huge help. If there are any elves getting themselves into trouble, he’ll be the first to know.”
“Excellent idea, young man. I have every confidence you will uncover the mischief maker. If you need any help with the Magik, I am always at your service,” Master Eugen said. He returned to the crowd, murmuring reassurances to the bystanders.
Santa turned to Oskar. “I have every faith in you, son. No one knows the elves in Glasdorf like you do. Hopefully, you and Boris will figure this out before anything else happens.”
Oskar nodded. “Thanks, Dad. I won’t let you or the Council down. Boris is the most resourceful elf I know. Between the two of us, we’ll figure this out. We need to find this rogue before he causes any more damage.” He shook his head in anger. “Thank God no one was injured. It was lucky the Plaza was closed for the holiday.”
Nicholas Sr. stroked his goatee. “Maybe it wasn’t luck. Maybe someone wanted to send a message.”
Oskar and his father stared at the carnage. “Well, I’m not sure what message he wanted to send, but I know damned well what my response is.”
Santa quirked a brow. “Oh yeah, what’s that?”
Oskar smiled. “Whoever you are, your ass is mine.”
Kiana slowly regained consciousness. She felt nauseated and sore. As her eyes flickered open, it took a few moments to recall where she was.
Oh please, please, please let this be a dream.
Her body was crunched into a ball in the dark trunk. Only a sliver of light shot through a crack in the door. She stretched her arms and legs out of their cramped position and drew a deep breath.
I have to get out of here and figure out what’s going on.
Kiana twisted herself so that her feet were flat against the trunk door, and then pushed with all of her strength. Pop! The door bounced open and her body spilled out of the sleigh, landing with a hard thud onto the ground.
She pulled herself up onto her hands and knees and glanced around nervously. Oh my God! Where am I? She appeared to be in a courtyard next to an enormous castle. Scrambling to her feet, she scurried to hide behind a stone wall as voices approached.
“I heard a bomb went off in the theater. Maybe we’ve got some terrorists in our midst.”
“Don’t be an idiot! You’ve been watching too much television, you dolt. There are no terrorists in Glasdorf. I’m sure the furnace overheated and caused the explosion. That’s all there is to it,” replied a squeaky voice.
“I’m telling you, something wicked is amiss. Maybe some teenagers did it.”
Kiana’s heart fell as she peered over the wall. Two elves walked past, continuing with their argument. They were both dressed in striped stockings, curly shoes, and long knit caps with braided tassels. Neither of them noticed her, thank God, and she slunk down behind the wall and shivered.
This cannot be happening to me! It’s impossible!
Her eyes glanced up at the castle and she shook her head. It looked like a child’s fantasy come to life. The castle was dotted with numerous turrets and chimneys and draped in evergreen boughs. Hundreds of windows blinked with candlelight, and multicolored slate tiles overlapped on the roof. Spots of light, in a myriad of colors, flashed on and off like fireflies all over the walls of the building. The castle was nestled within a breath-taking panorama of evergreens dusted with snowflakes and icy ponds shimmering in the moonlight.
Stained glass windows of every shape and size embellished the castle walls. The glass was swirling within the designs, constantly shifting and changing. Attached to one end of the building was a towering conservatory. Through the foggy glass, she could see thriving flowers and plants in a misty interior. A gang of playful Malamutes raced by, barking and rolling in the snow.
Kiana didn’t think she could conjure up something this magical, even in her dreams. The aches and pains she was still experiencing from her “sleigh ride” convinced her she was clearly wide awake, and in a hell of lot of trouble. She buried her face in her hands.
What am I going to do?
“Excuse me, miss, are you all right?”
Her head snapped up at the quiet voice. Hidden in the shadows at the end of the wall, a tiny girl emerged. She had enormous blue eyes and long blonde braids hanging down her back.
Encased in a ratty coat, her body trembled in the cold. Kiana noticed holes in her knit cap and scuffs on her pointed shoes. Her tiny pointed ears looked red and raw, and a spattering of freckles stood out against her pale face.
“Are you okay? You look sad,” the child asked.
“I’m… I’m… just confused, I guess.” Kiana watched in fascination as the tiny girl crawled closer to her and sat down just a few feet away.
“My name is Gabi. I’ve never seen a Suddie before. Except for the Klaus family.” She cocked her head to the side. “How did you get here?”
Kiana shook her head. “I’m not sure exactly. Where is ‘here’?”
Gabi smiled. “You’re in Glasdorf, Miss. Right next to the Weihnachtsmann’s house.”
Kiana swallowed nervously. “Where is Glasdorf? And what’s a Suddie? And who is the Weihn… Weihn…”
Gabi giggled. “The Weihnachtsmann is Santa Claus, of course. Glasdorf is our village in the North Pole. Suddie is our nickname for Sudlanders, folks from the Southern World.”
Kiana’s jaw dropped open. This was the second time she’d heard Santa’s name come up. “There is no way we’re in the North Pole. It’s uninhabitable for human life. The temperatures drop to almost -50º F.”
Gabi nodded. “That’s true. But elfin magik keeps our village warm.” She inched closer to Kiana. “Your eyes are so pretty. They remind me of the color of the ocean. I’ve never been there, but I’ve seen pictures in books.”
Kiana stared at the e
lf child and shook her head. Okay, either I’m still asleep and having incredibly real hallucinations, or there really is a Santa Claus. She blanched and closed her eyes.
This cannot be happening to me…
Kiana felt something small and warm touch her arm. She opened her eyes to find Gabi’s hand lightly touching her forearm. “Don’t be afraid, Miss. Everything will be okay. Suddies aren’t supposed to be in Glasdorf, but don’t worry. I’ll help you hide out so you don’t get into any trouble.”
Kiana stared at the tiny hand. What a little sweet pea. Huddled in the cold, wrapped in tattered clothes, this child was offering her comfort and protection. Kiana smiled and offered her hand to shake. “My name’s Kiana. It’s nice to meet you, Gabi.”
Gabi inched a bit closer. “It’s very nice to meet you, too.”
Kiana noticed the girl’s fingers poking out of her ripped gloves. She hesitated as the child rubbed a runny nose. “What are you doing out here in the cold?”
Gabi’s eyes grew wide. “Hiding. I know I’ll be safe at the Weihnachtsmann’s cottage. Wiebe will never find me here. There’s too much Light Magik. He doesn’t like that.”
A chill crept up Kiana’s spine as the little girl glanced around nervously. “What’s wrong, Gabi? Who is Wiebe?”
Gabi’s eyes filled with tears. “Wiebe is my stepdad. He’s… he’s…” The child’s voice wobbled and she turned her face away from Kiana. “He isn’t very nice.” A pale blue bruise stood out on the girl’s cheek, illuminated by a lamppost.
Kiana’s hand reached up to gently brush her face, and Gabi flinched. Kiana could barely contain her anger. She had no idea where the hell she was, or how she got here. Maybe in some crazy town with a lot of delusional people (and some elves, her brain interjected) who still believed in Santa Claus. But the bruise on Gabi’s cheek was no figment of her imagination. Nor was the fear in the child’s eyes when she whispered her stepfather’s name.
Kiana reached out for Gabi’s hand. Shivering, the little girl looked up at her. “Gabi, do you happen to know where Oskar Klaus lives? Somewhere close by? He’s my friend, and I know he can help you.”