The Elf

by Max Dune

  Darkness falls again, like a thick, black blanket of velvet, with sequined stars winking down at us.

  I set up my tent and cover Blitzen in the shimmery material again. “Thirsty?” I ask, then busy myself with gathering snow and melting it down. Once Blitzen’s thirst is sated, I gulp down a liter myself. I pretend it’s hot coffee. With extra cream and sugar. Mmm. I’d kill for a cup right now—preferably Frost, but I guess I’d have to find him first. I sigh. Where could he possibly be? Is he nearby? And, more importantly, is he still alive?

  The trail we’ve been following has all but disappeared, and I cannot recall the last time we saw any blood on the snow. I believe it was around noon, yesterday, about forty miles back or more. That worries me. If we haven’t found anymore tracks by now, it’s doubtful we ever will again.

  Yet I am hesitant to count Frost out. Surely we would have found his body if he fell from the sky. My gut tells me he’s alive and that we’ll find him, so we have to keep pressing onward, whatever the cost. With no blood trail or tracks to follow, I just have to trust that Blitzen is still following his scent.

  I crawl into the tent and lie down on the sleeping bag, just as I did the previous evening. Tonight, instead of raging hunger, it is Frost that fills my thoughts. I inspect my crossbow, crank the tension tight, and look down the barrel. I’m confident in my shooting skills. Why wouldn’t I be? I’ve logged countless hours of field-testing all our crossbows to make sure they pass quality control. That time honed my shooting ability, sharpened my accuracy. Granted, I’ve mostly hit rubber dummies that don’t move, but I know I can make an easy mark of Frost, moving or not. I will find him, and he will pay for what he’s done. Whatever the cost, I tell to myself as slumber catches me. I swear it.

  * * *

  The next morning finds us both in fine spirits. It’s amazing what a hearty breakfast can do for one’s morale. If we’re careful, the fish should last a couple more days, long enough for us to complete our mission. That’s what I keep telling myself anyway. I must think positively. Visualize my victory.

  As the day advances, I’m happy to observe the changing landscape. Short, spindly branches of shrubs and thin grass break through the snow. The flat ground begins to take shape, sloping inward at various points as the terrain becomes uneven. A good sign for sure. By noon, there’s even more to celebrate.

  A forest, thick and verdant, spreads north and south before us. Towering above the treetops is a range of granite mountains, ribboned in snow. The woodlands are several miles ahead, and the mountains are an interminable distance beyond them, but the fact that they are there almost has me jumping in excitement. “Frost has to be there! He has to!” I declare. It is exactly where I would stop to rest if I was injured, where I’d be safely hidden by the thick foliage. I am confident we’ll find our enemy there.

  Blitzen stomps a hoof on the ground. He is just as eager for the battle as I am.

  By the time we reach the forest, though, my enthusiasm has dwindled. The place seems to have been drawn out of a nightmare. The black trees twist violently out of the ground, and their equally dark leaves form a canopy so dense that hardly any sunlight breaks in. I bite my lip, staring at the path of gloom and uncertainty that cuts through the densely packed trees. A plethora of worries swirls around in my head, especially since we already encountered one mythical monster who tried to kill and eat me. I do my best to shove those grim imaginings aside and strap on my headlamp. After it’s turned on, I snap Blitzen’s reins.

  The reindeer remains still as a statue. He stares into the dark labyrinth of timbers.

  “I’m not thrilled either, but what other choice do we have? Going around the forest will take much longer, and our supplies might run out. We have to go through it.”

  He huffs unhappily, then proceeds.

  I can almost feel the darkness pressing down on me. It has a suffocating effect as we move carefully through miles of eerie maze. My ears strain to pick up any animal sounds, but apart from the distant howling of winds above us, silence fills the air. I turn my face from side to side, shining my headlamp beam on the massively thick trunks. These trees make the pines of the forest that encircles Santa’s Village seem like twigs by comparison. I’ve never seen anything like them, which makes me think magic is at work here.

  And that makes me nervous.

  After awhile, I begin humming Christmas carols. It helps calm me, and I’m sure it brings comfort to Blitzen too. I have to question the logic of my current plan. Because, to be honest, I don’t know the full extent of Frost’s powers. Santa hasn’t told us much. Apart from his flying, all we know is that Frost has dangerous ice-wielding powers. But what if he has other secret powers at his disposal? Such as super healing, for instance. If that’s the case, he could have recovered from the bullet wounds by now. I frown at the possibility; a healthy Frost will be much tougher to kill.

  Off to the right, leaves rustle.

  I stop humming and turn my head. I see them. A pair of golden eyes, shining in the darkness. I inhale sharply, then increase the intensity of my headlamp for better visibility. I instantly regret the decision. The eyes belong to gigantic black wolf. It rests on its haunches, with hits head lowered, perfectly positioned for an attack. A low growl escapes its throat, sending chills up my spine.

  Before it moves, I raise my crossbow and take aim.

  It doesn’t budge. It just maintains its battle-ready crouch, never blinking, sizing us up, salivating hungrily as it does. My chest tightens to the point of aching. God, what do I do? I think, shaking in fear. Should I shoot it or wait for it to make a move?

  Blitzen lowers his pointy antlers and waves them in the wolf’s direction. A warning to our enemy: “Back up or I’m making wolf-kebabs.”

  A smile forms on my face, half from nerves but half in great pride. Blitzen the Barbarian doesn’t mess around. I couldn’t have asked for a better companion, and I’m beyond grateful for my comrade’s brazenness, not to mention his intimidating physique.

  Suddenly the wolf throws its head back and howls. As if on cue, more yellow eyes appear in the inky blackness surrounding us. The pack joins him, releasing their own haunting wails. The reverberations of the cries crackle through my eardrums and make my hair stand on end all over my body.

  “Go, Blitzen. Go!” I cry.

  Blitzen dashes along the winding path at full speed, and the sleigh shudders so hard I must hold on in a white-knuckled grip to keep from toppling off. Hungry jaws snap just a short distance behind us. It sends all my senses into overdrive. A brown wolf runs alongside Blitzen and tries to take a bite from my comrade’s leg, but Blitzen senses it and reacts in time. He swings his mighty antlers back, knocking the beast against a tree. This causes the pack to fall back and reassess their plan of attack.

  Ahead of us, I see the blinding whiteness I’ve become so familiar with. “Faster! We’re almost out!” I shout.

  He picks up the pace.

  Next, a silver wolf pounces on Blitzen’s back and sinks its teeth into his flesh, causing the reindeer to bellow loudly. In one swift motion, I bring up my crossbow and take aim. My finger curls around the trigger, but I refrain from firing. The ride is too bumpy; I must wait until I’ve got a clear shot or I could hit Blitzen. Seconds pass at an excruciatingly slow pace. Just a little more to the left, I think. Almost... And...there! With the wolf’s back in perfect sight, I fire. “Bullseye!” I shout as the beast topples off Blitzen. I can only hope that the pack takes notice and drops their pursuit. I dare a peek behind me.

  No such luck. They are determined to stay with us.

  I turn my head back around and smile when I see the opening we need. We emerge from our dark hell and into the heavenly light, the wolves still nipping at our heels like furry demons. The ground beneath us is flat and hard, unlike the padded soil of the forest, and Blitzen’s hooves clatter noisily. It takes a moment for me to realize we’ve actually traveled onto frozen lake. At some points, the glassy surface is too smooth,
causing Blitzen to skitter and skate until he regains traction. The wolves don’t fare any better. One slides out of control and tumbles into a couple of his angry teammates, leading to a loud snarling match.

  Once my eyes adjust from the glare, I take aim behind us. The visibility is excellent now, and I have enough arrows to take out every wolf, provided each one finds its target.

  The black wolf from earlier is my first focus. He runs ahead of the pack, flanked by the others. I am certain he is their alpha. As such, I know that killing him might discourage the others in their chase. But he is cunning and keeps bounding from side to side, as if keenly aware of my intentions.

  I can’t get a clear shot on him. I must try for a steadier target. The brown wolf Blitzen played baseball with comes into view. He’ll do. I take the shot, and he goes down with a high-pitched yelp. Unfortunately, this causes the rest to shuffle around more, just like the alpha, rendering successful shots almost impossible. Still, I’m determined to try.

  Keeping my arms steady, I follow the alpha as he zigzags across the ice. When I have him in sight, I let an arrow fly. He jumps away just in time, and my arrow zips into the ice. I reload my crossbow quickly as the wolves get dangerously closer. Halfway across the lake, as I take aim again, the unthinkable happens. Huge cracks form around us, spreading out like a dark spider web. At first, the damage lingers behind us, eliminating some of our enemies in the process, but the break soon approaches us, bursting the ice wide open and sending Blitzen headfirst into the frigid water.

  As for me, I’m thrown from the sleigh when it bucks from the impact. I fly helplessly through the air, expecting to hit the water as well. Instead, I land atop of a floating chunk of ice.

  I writhe on the small glacier for several moments, overwhelmed by waves of pain shooting through my back. As I catch my breath, I am glad to see I didn’t land on my crossbow. My respite is cut short, though, when I hear vicious growls nearby. The alpha. He is floating on his own private island, too, about ten yards away, far enough that I don’t immediately panic. Of course, all that changes when he leaps onto another large chunk of ice, then another, then another, each one bringing him closer to me.

  I snap into action, taking a lesson from my enemy. I hop up on my feet, steady myself, and begin my own game of hopscotch, precariously jumping from chunk to chunk. My goal is to reach the unbroken part of the lake ahead. I’ll be more capable on solid ground.

  Every jump is a challenge. With the slightest misstep or poor judgment, I might slide right off. Still, I manage to land correctly each time and avoid a fatal dunk. Before the last leap, I take a deep breath, summon all my remaining strength, and jump.

  To my joy, I actually make it. But I don’t allow myself time to celebrate. I’m up and ready for battle in an instant, and it’s a good thing, because I see the alpha standing exactly where I was just a second ago. Just one quick leap, and the mangy nightmare will be upon me. I raise my crossbow. He rears back on his hind legs, then launches off his floating island. As he’s flying through the air, I pull the trigger and pray for accuracy.

  This could be it. This could be my end.

  He keeps hurtling toward me, his mouth agape, his yellow fangs glistening in the light. If this is how I’m dying, I hope it’s fast, that those fangs find my neck quickly and don’t drag this out.

  The wolf crashes down at my feet and thrashes about, as if being electrocuted. My arrow sank deep in his chest; only its green vanes are visible, protruding from bloody black fur. After a few more shakes, he stills. I inspect him. Give him a little kick. His chest no longer rises and falls. No steam comes from his nostrils. He’s dead.

  His underlings begin to howl from the other side of the lake, in great pain, as if mourning the loss of their leader. I reload my crossbow, giving them hard stares while I do. My message is clear: “I’m not through with you yet.” They slink away, their eyes glinting with fear, and retreat into the black forest.

  I turn my attention to Blitzen. He’s still in the lake, kicking hard in the water, propelling himself over to me.

  “Come on, Blitzen!” I shout my encouragement.

  His swim is made more difficult by the sleigh, which is still strapped to his body. The metal contraption is completely submerged in the water, but Blitzen is a fighter and keeps pounding the water with his strong limbs until he reaches me. He raises his front legs up and onto the ice, then attempts to pull himself out, but he can’t. There’s too much weight tugging him down from behind.

  I realize I need to free him from the sleigh. One problem. My knife is in the survival bag, which is on the sleigh. Come to think of it, everything—except for my crossbow and headlamp—is on the blasted sleigh! In a panic, I look down at myself and around me. I need to come up with something to free him. Then I spot an arrow. Would it work? Its tip is certainly sharp. I grab one, bend down at Blitzen’s neck, and start furiously slashing at the leather strip. The blade cuts, but it is so small that the process is slow.

  Blitzen continues flailing about, making my work all the more difficult.

  “Hang on, buddy,” I tell him after I finish the first strap. “Just one more strap to go.” He emits a hopeful sound, sending a warm blast of air onto my cheek.

  I cut so quickly that I don’t even notice that my hand is bleeding. All I can think about is getting that sleigh off Blitzen. He’s been in the water for several minutes already, and I don’t have to be Doc to know his body heat is quickly dissipating. Finally, the last strap breaks, and the sleigh slips off of him, carrying all my supplies and food along with it. I’m not upset. I just want that big lug up here with me.

  He tries to heave himself up, scraping his hooves against the ice for leverage. His front legs shake and rise a bit, then fall back down. My alarm intensifies. I don’t understand. Hadn’t I relieved him of all that extra weight? Why is he still struggling? But then I think of how much energy he expelled as we fled from the wolves, how hypothermia must be setting in from the relentlessly cold water.

  “Okay,” I say, throwing my crossbow aside. “New plan.” Then, tight-lipped, I grab his antlers.

  Blitzen’s eyes widen.

  “On three, I want you to try again.”

  He snorts a confirmation.

  “One...two...three!” Digging my heels into the ice, I pull for all I’m worth. Blitzen’s muffled groans vibrate in the air as I struggle to free him, but I don’t even bother breathing. I just pull and twist and fight for my companion’s life, even as stars begin dancing in my vision. It’s only when Blitzen plops back down that I stop and suck in fresh oxygen. Gazing down, I see we’ve made no progress. Several more deep breaths alleviate my lightheadedness. “Again...on three!”

  I grip his horns from a different angle this time, but it makes no difference. Blitzen’s knees buckle again. The hopeless expression on his face and his droopy eyes make it clear that he is beyond exhausted.

  Instead of comforting him, my tone hardens. “You can do this, Blitzen! On three!”

  To his credit, he makes another attempt, but he can’t even manage an inch of air. His legs just shake in place.

  My chest tightens, and tears make their way out. “Again!”

  The look in his eyes tells me he wants to, and they glaze over in an almost apologetic stare, but his body can’t go anymore. He whimpers, pleading for me to stop, to let him rest, to accept his fate.

  “No!” I wail, refusing to give up. My words come out in frantic shouts, breaking at the end. “You have to get up, Blitzen! You have to!” My begging is useless. He just stares at me, waiting for me to understand.

  Eventually, I fall to my knees, sobbing, a blubbering mess, and hug Blitzen’s head. “I’m so, so sorry,” I whisper, hiccupping between sobs. “I shouldn’t have brought you out here.”

  He licks my cheek, the way he always does.

  And so I hold him like that. As his breathing slows and slows. As his warm, pulsing fur loses its heat. I just hold on. Crying and mourning for him.
>
  Even as his last breath leaves his body and he slips from my hands and into the cold, murky water below.

  Chapter Seven

  After what feels like a miserable eternity, I steel myself to stand.

  He is gone. There’s nothing I can do about that. What I can do is finish my mission, not only for Lily and for my people but now also for Blitzen. He would’ve wanted you to finish this, I tell myself, so finish. I take inventory of my meager supplies. My crossbow, five arrows, and a headlamp. I take the lamp off and examine it. I scratch it off the list. It’s broken. It probably happened during my ice-hopping routine.

  No light means nighttime will be that much more dangerous.

  As I examine my surroundings, I’m comforted by the sight of thin trees and shrubs. Their limbs can be fashioned into torches, which will enable me to knock out two birds with one stone; obtain light and stay warm. It doesn’t matter that my lighters are gone. I can use sticks to start a fire.

  I look around. Which way now?

  Certainly, the black forest is a no-go. Even if Frost is hiding there, I won’t be able to defend myself against the remaining wolves in that low visibility and rough terrain. The precious seconds between every reload of a bolt could mean my death. I have no other choice. I must keep heading east, in the direction of the snow-capped mountains, and hope Frost is somewhere ahead.

  It’s a slippery walk to the shore, punctuated by plenty of tumbles and falls. Once I reach the edge, I’m dismayed to find a good three feet of powdery snow covering the ground beyond. It makes walking torturous. Each step requires so much exertion. I have to stop every twenty minutes to give the lactic acid that sears my legs a chance to simmer down. During the breaks, I collect whatever dry leaves and small branches I can find and stuff them in my pockets. I’m also on the lookout for game. Now that I’m more physically active, I’ll need even more fuel. My body has already burned through all the calories from breakfast, and it lets me know that in countless painful ways.