The Elf

by Max Dune

  Frost nods. “Then let’s go.”

  He raises both hands, and the dome bursts open in a thunderous roar that stops my heart for a moment. Millions of glittering ice shards fly outward, as if an invisible bomb went off at our feet. I shield my face instinctively, then wait several moments to examine the aftermath. To my surprise, Frost and I are dry as dirt.

  “You coulda warned me,” I say, panting.

  He scrunches up his face. “What would be the fun in that?”

  “Please try not have so much ‘fun’ over the next few days,” I mutter. “I’d like to return in one piece.”

  “Don’t worry. You will, around noon, to be precise.”

  “Noon?” I ask. “It took me four days get here.”

  He looks at me as if I’m slow. “We’re not walking there, my friend.”

  “Huh?” I ask, confused. “Do you have a sled or a snowmobile or something?”

  “No.”

  I place my hands on my hips, feeling exasperated. “Well, what do you have?”

  He flashes me a slow, rueful grin. “Me.”

  And then I understand. “Are you....insane?” I manage, forgetting about my earlier resolution to be amicable. I quickly step back from him, shaking my head in definite refusal. “I mean, are you actually proposing what I think you are?” I shake my head at him. “Nope. No way. Absolutely not.”

  Frost dismissively waves away my concerns. “I don’t understand why you’re freaking out. Air travel is one of safest methods of transportation.” He lifts a hand. “The odds of getting in a car accident are 1 in 500. Even trains are high, 1 in 400,000. On the other hand, only one in forty-five million flights crash.”

  “Thanks, Mr. Wikipedia. But you left out one vital fact.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You’re not a plane.”

  He grins. “No, but I’m one helluva pilot.”

  At this point, I’m 100 percent certain that he has lost his mind. “It’s not happening, Frost.”

  “Well, then you can walk back to your village alone,” he says with a shrug. “Say hello to White Fang and his buddies for me. I’m sure they’re not far off.”

  I pace in the snow, debating what to do, only to realize I have no choice in the matter. I can’t make it alone. As much as it sickens me to admit it, I need Frost. “Fine,” I concede.

  “That’s more like it.” He bends down and extends his arms.

  I shoot him an uncomfortable look. “What? In your arms?”

  “Unless you have a better idea.”

  As if this couldn’t get any worse. “Whatever,” I huff and move toward him.

  As I approach, though, Frost suddenly snickers and turns around, offering his back. “Just messing with you. Get on.”

  My eyes narrow. I climb on his back, scowling. “Hilario— Ah!”

  Before I can blurt out a coherent word, Frost ascends like a missile, showing off his lightning-quick acceleration. I grit my teeth, feeling my insides turn to stone. My heartbeat thunders in my ears. I tighten my grip around his neck and lock my ankles tighter around his stomach. During our vertical climb, everything goes by in a blur. All I can see is the brilliant sun, a glowing orb too fast approaching.

  “Enough!” I shout in his ear.

  After barking out a laugh, he slows and flies horizontally.

  This is much better. It no longer feels as if I’m slipping off. In fact, resting on my stomach, I have the most magnificent view—one usually reserved for birds. My initial fear fades, and I begin to actually enjoy the ride as the wonder, the exhilaration, and the awe of what I’m doing sinks in. I am flying. Really flying!

  Like every other gravity-restricted being on Earth, I’ve often dreamt of flying, but the real thing is a feeling like no other. I am overwhelmed with a sense of freedom as we soar across the sky—so rich, so blue—faster and faster. I let out a joyful laugh, followed by a boyish giggle as the excitement of flight tickles me all over.

  Below us, I spot a long patch of dense clouds. “Clouds!” I yell out in glee.

  Frost drops lower so we’re flying directly over them.

  We’re so close! If he drops any lower, we’ll be able to touch the contoured, fibrous mass. I wonder what they feel like. Sticky and billowy, like cotton candy? I think about that. No. Probably frosty and wet. It must be why he so deftly avoids them, to keep us from turning into frozen gargoyles.

  We continue soaring over the vast landscape I’ve been trekking over for the past few days, with Frost dipping and rising every so often, twirling and turning in the air. I am taken on the ride of my life, and my laughter and whoops only fuel him to perform crazier stunts. I enjoy it so much that I’m almost sad when Santa’s Village comes into view.

  My pilot descends about a mile away from the village, dropping us deep inside the encircling pine forest. We’re distant enough that the guards can’t possibly spot us.

  I wobble off his back, disoriented but smiling.

  “Still wish you’d taken a snowmobile?” he asks.

  I force my smile away and shrug.

  His expression hardens into a far more serious one. “Remember what I said, Lucian.”

  “Yeah, all right,” I mumble, still unsure of what to believe.

  “And for your own safety, don’t tell anyone you saw me...anyone at all. It might fall on the ears of the wrong people, and if that happens, they will kill you.”

  My face contorts in confusion. “Wait. Kill me?”

  Frost nods, then places a small electronic device in my hand.

  I glance down at the gadget, which resembles an MP3 player, with only one button.

  “If you get in any trouble, use this. Just press it, and I’ll find you.”

  Suspicion fills me, and I look him square in the eye. “How do I know it’s not another bomb, one that’ll blow me to smithereens?”

  His shoulders straighten. “The bombs I dropped before didn’t kill any worker elves. You think that was an accident? Just dumb luck?”

  “Well, I—”

  Before I can offer a retort, he pulls out something else, a tiny blue vial filled with liquid.

  “Wow. Another gift?” I say. “Lucky me.”

  He ignores my sarcasm. “Do yourself a favor and guard this with your life.”

  “That’s a tall order.” I pause. “What’s in it?”

  “Exactly what you set out for.”

  “Th-The cure?” I stutter, sobered by his words and the stern expression on his face. “Is this really it? The antidote?”

  A flash of impatience crosses his features. “Look, I told you there’s no...” He stops there, as if thinking better over arguing that particular point. “It’s a healing potion. I’ve kept it for centuries, just in case, but I am now giving it to you, Lucian.” He pushes the vial into my hand. “It is only enough for one person.”

  I am sure Frost is lying. He has to be. If this potion is so rare and valuable to him, why would he give it to me? An unknown, lowly worker elf who means nothing to him? I look up from the vial and stare at him, searching for the slightest sign of trickery.

  “You still don’t trust me. No reason to, I suppose.” He exhales deeply and jerks his head toward Santa’s Village. “When you’re ready for the truth, check the old mail room and the laboratory. Things will make more sense to you then.”

  As he turns to leave, I grab his arm. “Wait! You said they, as in more than one.”

  “Yes. Be very careful who you trust.”

  I remain skeptical, but before I can interrogate him further, he flies away, rustling the snow into the air around me. I am unable to decipher Frost’s true intentions. I have no idea if he was telling the truth about anything. Is the virus really just a myth, or is his tale just a façade, a ruse to obtain my trust? What’s really in this vial? For all I know, he could be using me to get closer to Santa. Like a pawn in some intricate game of chess. Whatever is going on, I don’t want Frost getting checkmate in the end.

  I put
the one-button thingamajig and the vial in my pocket and turn to walk to the village.

  A mile into the forest, I run into a chopper. He’s hacking away at a small pine with an ax. Behind him stands his sleigh, already half-full of wood. The loud whine of his reindeer alerts him to my presence, and the chopper whirls around. I recognize him. Peter. He had tried, quite unsuccessfully, to talk to the very stoic me when I first transferred jobs.

  I raise my hands. “Relax, Peter. It’s just me.”

  “L-Lucian?” Peter whispers in astonishment. “I-I didn’t expect to ever see you again. I mean, we all thought you’d... Wow. You’re alive.”

  I nod. “Barely but yes.”

  After a few moments, his head snaps up again. “Oh! I just remembered. I have to inform Oleg.” He drops the ax and pulls out a radio. “Peter reporting, sir. Lucian has been located. He’s in Sector Four with me. I repeat, Lucian is in Sector Four. Over.”

  Seconds later, Oleg’s cold voice growls over the radio. “I’m coming. Stay where you are. Over.”

  “Well, he sounds thrilled,” I mutter.

  Peter offers an apologetic smile. “He’s stressed. Everyone is.”

  When Oleg arrives a few minutes later, he looks beyond stressed. He looks ready to beat me to death. From atop his snowmobile, he throws me a withering stare that makes me lower my head. “Where in the hell have you been?”

  My voice is small. “I-I went after Frost.”

  Oleg swears in Russian, shaking his anger-reddened face. He waits for me to go on. When I don’t, he spits out, “Well? Did you find him?”

  Remember what Frost said, I tell myself. You can’t tell anyone about him. I still don’t know if I believe the guy. It could be a trick. Then I remember that he did save me from the wolves, and he did nurse me back to health. He showed me a different side of him, one that seemed authentic and kind. But can I trust my judgment? I decide I can. For now.

  Apart from Frost’s rescue and aerial transport, I tell Oleg everything. I even recount my misadventures with the sea witch, the pack of hungry wolves, and Blitzen’s tragic death.

  Oleg takes it all in, intently watching my expression until I finish. “So that was when you decided to turn back?” Oleg asks. “When Blitzen drowned?”

  I lower my voice, hurting from the awful memory. “Yes.”

  His fists clench. “Of course!” He looks away from me for a minute. After some of the fury leaves him, he glances at me again. “At least you made it back.” Next, he addresses Peter. “Take him to the hospital. We have enough dead elves already.”

  Peter is quick to respond with a nod. “Yes, sir.”

  After Oleg speeds away, we climb into a sleigh. The ride to the hospital is quiet and tense. Peter seems almost afraid to talk. That has me wondering what kind of rumors have been spread about me since I ran away. Whatever they are, I am sure they can’t be pleasant.

  I have to ask, “The village must think I’m insane, huh?”

  He turns to look at me with huge eyes. “What?”

  “For running off like I did,” I say, my face burning with embarrassment. “For stupidly thinking I could take on Frost by myself. They must think I’m a joke.”

  “Lucian, there isn’t a single elf who thinks that,” Peter says clearly. “It’s actually quite the opposite. You’re...a hero.”

  I pull my head back. “Please.”

  “It’s true. Nobody else was brave enough to do what you did, going out there like that, knowing the dangers you’d face. Not even Oleg or his guards are willing to go that far.” He gazes at me with a quiet admiration. “You risked your life for all of us, and people won’t forget that.”

  I push away his words. A hero? Pssh. Blitzen died because of my hare-brained mission. And given what I just withheld from Oleg, I feel more like a liar.

  Whatever I am, I soon find myself in a hospital bed, with Doc Billings holding a cold stethoscope against my chest, checking my pulse. I’m dressed in medical gown inside the intensive care ward with at least a dozen dying elves. I look over at the bed where Chance was the last time I was here. When I see that it’s empty now, I swallow hard and force myself to ask the question looming in my mind. “Chance is gone, isn’t he?”

  Doc puts his stethoscope down and nods solemnly, then turns his attention to scribbling something on a clipboard. “Apart from some dehydration, you seem to be in surprisingly good shape.”

  “Can I leave then?” I ask.

  He shakes his head. “No, I want to keep you here for observation. It’s going to be nothing but bedrest, water, and soup for the next forty-eight hours, for your own good.”

  Two days in here? My spirit sinks. The last thing I want to do is to sleep in this place. “Doc, I don’t think that’s necessary. Really,” I say, glancing toward the three patients nearest me, asleep, with IVs in their arms.

  Doc follows my gaze. “I understand your hesitation to stay here, Lucian, but it’s best not to take any chances. Your body has been through an awful lot. You need this downtime.”

  I try a different angle. “But we’re understaffed. I need to be helping, not lying around. Think of the children!”

  His eyes narrow. “Nice try, but you must stay. I insist, and doctor’s orders do still speak for something around here.”

  “Hang on. What about light duty?”

  “Bedrest,” he says sternly.

  I groan in exasperation.

  At that moment, there’s a knock at the door.

  When I turn my head and see Lily and Zeb standing there, my foul mood instantly vanishes.

  Doc Billings smiles and signals them over, then makes his way out, calling over his shoulder, “Thirty minutes max, you two. Your friend needs to rest and recover from his...little adventure.”

  “Thank you, Doctor,” Lily says gratefully before rushing over to me and burying her face in my neck. “Oh, Lucian, I was so worried!”

  I inhale her scent, my nose touching her skin. Sweet vanilla soothes me. As I hold her, I know what true joy is. “Lily...” I whisper into her dark, smooth hair.

  Before I can utter another word, she suddenly pulls away and gives me a gentle shake. “Lucian, what were you thinking?” she cries. “You could have died out there.”

  Zeb draws near my bed. “Yeah, dude. You’re lucky you made it back.”

  “I-I...” I stumble, trying to explain myself. “I just couldn’t stand by while all my friends were dying. I had to try something.” I sigh. “I failed though. I got Blitzen killed, and I almost died in the process. I completely screwed up.” My eyes swell at the thought of my fallen companion.

  Seeing my anguish, Lily takes my hand in hers and softens her tone. “It’s okay. You’re here, and that’s all that matters now.”

  “For now anyway,” I say, wistful.

  “What do you mean?” Zeb asks.

  I raise and drop my shoulders. “I mean...I’m probably gonna get fired. Look at all the trouble I’ve caused, all the rules I’ve broken. Santa will probably send me packing soon.”

  “Don’t be so sure,” a familiar voice says.

  All three of us whirl around to see the big man himself, standing right there in the doorway. Holy smokes! He’s here. He’s actually here. Meanwhile, Lily and Zeb are frozen in place, unable to speak a word.

  As he walks in, the pressure of the room seems to change. That deep, impermeable power emanates from him, seeping deeply into my bones. He doesn’t seem angry at all. His face is as calm and benevolent as usual, which makes up for the perpetually ferocious Oleg, who walks in right after Santa.

  “Santa, I am so sorry—” I start, but he shushes me before I can finish my apology.

  “Don’t worry, Lucian. Lily told me everything after you left—about her sickness. She also showed me your message.” He nods. “In the same situation, I would’ve done the same thing. You’ve lost so much, and that desperation to cling to what little you still have... Well, it’s entirely understandable.”

  I am re
lieved beyond belief. “Yes, but it was all in vain,” I mumble, my shoulders sagging miserably.

  Santa’s brows knit together. “So you didn’t see Frost at all?”

  Even though it feels very wrong to lie to Santa, I can’t bear to confess the truth just yet. My heart pounds as I hear myself reply, “No.”

  Oleg steps forward. “You didn’t find any signs of Frost’s body?” His voice carries no warmth, only frigid accusation and doubt.

  “No,” I repeat. “Just the blood trail.”

  Santa glances at his watch, then at Oleg. “All right, dear boy. Well, we should get going. Once the doctor releases you, you may resume normal duties, but not a moment before then. Do you understand?”

  I know now that Doc Billings must have talked to him, but I can’t be mad about that. If anything, I feel fortunate that Santa cares about my recuperation. “So I can stay?” I say quietly.

  “Of course!” Santa assures me in that booming voice that leaves no room for doubt of his words. “You’re family, Lucian.” Then, he turns to acknowledge my stunned friends with a nod. “Lily, Zeb, you both have a good evening.”

  Lily bows her head. Zeb can only manage a maniacal grin; he is completely star-struck. After a solid, reassuring pat on my shoulder, Santa leaves the room, taking Oleg’s ugly mug with him.

  As soon as Santa is out of sight and earshot, Zeb’s jaw drops in amazement. “Oh...my...God.” He falls back onto an empty bed that creaks and sighs under his weight. “Santa said my name. Did you guys hear him?”

  I roll my eyes. “Yep. He said Lily’s name too. What an honor for both of you.”

  “Shh!” he says. “This is my Kodak moment, ya hear? Mine!” He starts rolling around on the bed, humming to himself, basking in the glory of being spoken to by Santa.

  I smile. Lily just laughs at him. Man, I missed this. I missed them.

  We talk awhile, catching up, as if we haven’t seen each other in years. I keep my hand clasped around Lily’s the whole time. Zeb informs me he’s still trying to maneuver himself into the role of Pepper’s boyfriend—with Lily’s guidance, of course. As for Lily, we don’t talk about her health issue, although it does weigh on our minds. We have to save that macabre business for another time. Tonight is for more lighthearted topics.