Mistletoe & Mischief

by Selena Page

  Whatever the rest of the story, Mallory Caprice had been given this house to age genteelly. Her father had built it with that intention in every stick and brick. It still stuck around - that was part of why nobody else would use the place. There was something to be said for not going against the will of the Caprice family - they could be terrifying when you did.

  She squeezed Jack's hand. He'd gone against the King of New York City for her, and that King had been every bit as scary as an ancestral legend. "All right. In, clothing, out. Hopefully still have time for a little, ah, pre-legal-marital bliss before dinner?"

  Before Jack could answer, a voice crackled down the stairs. It sounded exactly like she'd always imagined her great-grandfather sounding. "No Caprice woman would do something like that! Shame, shame on you and shame on your house!"

  "...It's not haunted," she muttered, half to herself. She was clinging to Jack's hand, though she’d never admit it. "It's not haunted, it's not haunted..."

  "Look," he whispered. The little wizened creature coming down the stairs looked like Grandpa Caprice's picture - and yet not. There was a hint of green skin through the wispy white hair.

  "If you don't want to be a proper Caprice girl, then you can live here in solitude for the rest of your days. Locked in. Bricked in." The voice seemed to cut right through Amber’s skin and into her bones.

  "You know," Jack's voice was loud, strong, and lazy. "I've heard a lot about Caprice girls. I've met a few - mind you, mostly just the werewolf's daughters, but hey - and they're some impressive women. Not the sort you'd want to lock in anywhere.

  "I mean," he continued, as the specter stood up straight and looked less and less like pictures of her great-grandfather, "Really, Amber here, not the sort of girl I'd ever try to brick up anywhere. She took on the Palace Guard of the High Court's King of New York City. The Palace Guard. Not the sort of people I'd want to take on, and I've got all my powers. She's got her magic locked up, and she's still a fierce woman."

  Jack had been by her side for all of it, fighting the Palace Guard while they chased him, though he didn't mention that part and Amber didn't feel the need to correct his story. She stood up a little straighter and glared at the thing.

  "Not to mention the troll and the Skin-takers, of course. And here we are, just wanting to bring you some nice clothes, and what do you do? Threaten her. Seriously. That's not very bright is it?"

  The creature stepped forward. "Troll?" It croaked. "Skin-takers? This one? The Caprice have no power."

  "Caprices have less power," Jack corrected. "That's a lot different from having no power."

  The creature cleared its throat. "Clothes, you said?"

  "I don't know... We came to give you nice yuletide clothing, and what did you do? You tried to spook my bride to be." Jack stood up to his full height and, for a minute, looked even taller.

  It was easy to forget, Amber considered, exactly what a Fae Prince he was. Until he did that, and you were left going oh yeah. He was looking down at the hob with a look of regal menace, and the hob was cowering.

  It was really quite impressive and very hot.

  "Clothes?" the hob offered again. "We will, this house, we will make it spotless. The yard, spotless."

  "The house," Jack decided, still holding himself full and proud. He looked a little bit like his father, like this. "Clean, tidy, no pretending you mean 'nothing in it' for spotless. Understand?"

  "Clean," the hob nodded. "Clothes?"

  "And then we may deign to give you clothes, and you can head back to your nice comfy nest on the other side of the Border. Wouldn't that be nice?" Jack's smile was sharp and unkind.

  The hob responded with a cautious smile. "A troll, truly? Trolls are mighty creatures."

  "She is a mighty Caprice. Clean the house then, spic and span."

  "We will do that!" The hob chittered loudly in its own language and several other hobs - eighteen other hobs - came out of the woodwork and the walls, behind the furniture and out from under the lamps.

  They moved faster than the eye could track. They dusted and swept, washed and tidied, moving like a line of cleanliness across the house. Amber felt her feet being cleaned and stepped backward, only to find that her shoes were in better-than-new condition and the ankles of her jeans were crisp and stiff.

  "When hobs are motivated," Jack murmured, "they can even make rags like new clothes again. You might have to explain how the tear in the couch was repaired, though."

  "They're renting from the Caprices. Eventually, they have to figure out something's a little weird. Did they just fix that old hole in the wall? I didn't think anyone knew it was there."

  "Like I said, when they're motivated... I feel like we should have gotten better clothes." Jack smirked. "Then again, they did insult Amber Troll-slayer, Affianced of the Prince of New York."

  "Oh, are we using your title now?"

  "Only when I absolutely have to - hey, look. You're done." He grinned down at the lead hob, and then let his smile fade into something formal, something suitable for Prince Jacanamo. "Your service had ameliorated the offence done to me and to my affianced bride. Now, we give you these gifts of clothing, and suggest you head off to the fair lands quickly, before you give any more offense."

  Amber handed the hob a tidily folded pile of Walmart jeans and glittered t-shirt. She watched the creature closely and still somehow missed the moment when it spun around three times and its old rags were replaced by the sparkling new kids wear. On the hob, it looked both ridiculous and regal.

  One after another, they handed out piles of clothing. The first hobs were excited; as they kept on handing out the same three shirts and the same two pairs of pants, they grew less and less excited. The last one put her foot down, glaring at Amber and Jack.

  "These are not original clothes. These are not interesting clothes. These are boring and copied clothes. I will not take them."

  "You'll take them," Jack growled, "or we'll do to you what we did to the troll."

  "You cannot." She raised her chin. She was an interesting little hob, smaller than the rest and more pointed everywhere - chin, nose, elbows, ears. If Amber hadn't been hurrying to get them all out of the house and back into fairyland, she might have wanted to take notes. "You, fae prince, you can do nothing to us. The ancient compacts say that clearly."

  "I can't," Jack agreed. His smile was all sharp edges, and his hands were glowing. "That's true. But there's nothing saying one Caprice daughter can't."

  "Caprice called us. Caprice cannot harm us." The hob stomped. "I am not satisfied and I do not like this. We do not leave unless we have new clothing."

  "You're not scared of the troll-killer?" Jack raised his eyebrows in possibly feigned disbelief. "Even if a Caprice summoned you, it doesn't mean a Caprice can't do a world of disservice and discomfort to you."

  "And we can stop cleaning and do disservice and discomfort, as well."

  There were several other hobs that hadn’t left yet, all in the process of trying on and admiring — or fussing over -- their new clothes. All of them had stopped now and were looking between the difficult hob and Jack and Amber.

  "Disservice?" one asked. It sounded eager.

  "Discomfort?" another offered. It tugged on its bedazzled shirt curiously.

  "Destroy!" offered a third, who had already put holes in its new jeans.

  "Deal," Jack put in. "As in, we had one. We provided the clothing, you leave."

  "No threats in deal," the hob complained.

  "No. There weren't. And you threatened, as well."

  "How about," Amber interjected quickly, "this Caprice gives you her nice fringe vest in addition to the outfit? The vest is new," she added, "and only worn by me." She shrugged out of the vest and held it out. "It's very nice," she added, perhaps too much in the tone she'd use with a recalcitrant cousin or niece. "It ought to fit you fine, too, it laces on the sides..."

  The hob wrinkled her little nose. "It is..." she touched the fringe. “It is
nice," she decided.

  "Destroy?" offered the hob in the ripped jeans.

  "Disservice?" offered the one uncomfortable in its shirt.

  "Deal," the hob sighed, sliding on her fringed vest. "The Caprice has made the deal good. We leave now."

  The hobs sighed and, one by one, winked out of existence. Amber collected the last Walmart bag and sighed in relief; Jack wandered into the kitchen to assess the damage.

  "Well, that was... pretty typical for the Caprices, I suppose. Did we miss anything?"

  "They repaired some broken dishware and the sink probably wasn't this clean when it was new. And I think they scrubbed the ghost, too. She's looking awfully shiny.”

  "Ghost?" Amber wandered into the kitchen. There, floating in the middle of the very-bright tile, a wisp of a woman with the Caprice look to her chin hovered.

  "Merry Christmas, cousin." Amber saluted the woman lazily. "Here's to being apart but Caprices together."

  "Merry Christmas." The voice was as thin and wispy as the woman in front of them, but it was still clear. The woman curtseyed politely, and vanished into the air.

  "She did look clean," Amber mused. "Well, let's let Grandpa know that we dealt with his mess."

  "We dealt with hobs, and now I have to meet your grandfather? I'm not sure this seems fair."

  They exited, Jack still complaining with his fingers laced in Amber’s and his hip nearly bumping hers, out into the chill of the Saratoga Christmas eve. The ghostly smell of mulled cider followed them out into the night, along with the whispery sound of sleigh-bells.

  BLANKET FORT

  Andrew & Kara

  Andrew stared out the window of his Saratoga Springs house with his iPhone pressed to his ear. The window stretched from floor to ceiling and provided a stunning view of the snow-covered valley below. He treasured this view. It reminded him every day of the peace and tranquility that his life provided. He felt blessed day in and day out with the boredom that filled his life; he reveled in its ordinariness.

  All of which was about to come crashing down.

  His grandfather gave a polite cough on the other end of the line. Andrew chewed the inside of his cheek thoughtfully, dark brown eyes narrowing. He didn’t care that his grandfather was waiting for a response. He needed a moment to think and he was going to have it.

  A few more moments passed in silence.

  “What do you mean it just appeared out of nowhere…?” Andrew asked, his voice sliding into a peevish, sharp tone.

  Kara perked up from her place on the couch in front of the fireplace. She knew that tone. It meant Andrew was annoyed. It meant that something was getting on his nerves. It meant something was happening. She arched an eyebrow and quirked a smile. Yes. Something was bothering him. More importantly, something was happening or had already happened--in which case there was bound to be fun.

  “There may have been a bit of a spell or something…” his grandfather’s dry voice drawled across the line, “Regardless, the fairy is here. She’s mucking about the property somewhere and is bound to cause trouble.”

  “Yes, of course grandfather, she must be stopped. I don’t understand why you want me to handle it.”

  Andrew caught Kara’s interested expression and rolled his eyes. Gods that woman would not stop once she got something between her teeth. He knew if he just hung on the line or turned his back for some privacy the whole thing would need to be explained again. Relenting to the argument he knew was coming, he thumbed the speaker icon. Kara clapped and bounced on her knees leaning on the back of the couch.

  “Well there was that whole business with the mine and that smoke monster you dispatched,” Andrew’s grandfather’s voice filled the room.

  “You’re on speaker Grandpa and Kara is with me. She was a large part of ‘dispatching that smoke monster’.”

  “Ah yes. Of course. Good to talk to you Kara.”

  Kara smiled and rolled her eyes at Andrew. He knew she loved his grandfather; she thought he was gentlemanly, wise, sweet, and kind.

  “Good to talk to you, too, Mr. Caprice,” Kara said warmly.

  “Anyway… you are the perfect person to handle this Andrew. I’m sure you and Kara will be able to track down the little bugger and deal with it accordingly.”

  “I didn’t even use that tracking spell last time and now I have no idea how to deal with a fairy.”

  “I have full faith in your ability as a warlock to deal with them.”

  Andrew contained a growl and clenched his fist, knuckles cracking.

  “Very well. Where is this errant fairy?”

  “Like I said, it’s gotten itself somewhere off the property. I’m sure you’ll be able to find it.”

  Andrew rummaged through his workshop, digging through containers of herbs, stones, and even a few crystals. Kara leaned on the frame of the doorway smiling at his backside.

  “Come on, this will be fun,” she cajoled.

  Andrew grumbled something as he moved another container.

  “It will be fun.”

  “You and I have very different definitions of ‘fun’.”

  “It’s a fairy. How bad could it be?”

  Andrew found what he was looking for and leveled a flat gaze at her, a corner of his mouth twitching toward a frown.

  “Fairies are bothersome little monsters. My grandfather should not have been mucking about with them, let alone have them decorating the house for the season and party.”

  Andrew dropped the cardboard container on the table with a crash and bang.

  “Andrew… they are old,” Kara said soothingly.

  “That is what decorators are for, not fairies. All they had to do was hire someone and the house would’ve been perfect for the party. What are they going to do for the meal? Summon a minor demon to roast the turkey?”

  Kara stepped away from the door and wrapped her arms around Andrew. She felt the tension in him lift at her touch. Despite his petulant tone, she loved seeing him ruffled. He spent so much time trying to make everything perfect that he would get lost in the moment.

  “Come on. It’s a fairy. You’ll find it, we’ll go get it or convince it to leave or send it back to Neverland and get home in time for diner. It’ll be fun!”

  Kara was right Andrew realized. Fuming about his grandfather’s inability to deal with the fairies wasn’t going to help anything and making a fuss wasn’t going to help.

  Andrew smiled down at her. Kara always had the best outlook on anything.

  “Alright,” he said, relenting.

  Andrew spent the next hour preparing and collecting the items for the tracking spell. He hoped the fairy was still somewhere on the Caprice property and hadn’t gotten itself into town. If it had stayed on the property, his search narrowed to a few acres. Luckily, his grandfather hadn’t wasted anytime contacting him. That almost guaranteed the fairy was somewhere nearby.

  Andrew and Kara finished packing and loading all of the supplies into the car and they piled into Kara’s Range Rover and headed to “the House” as Andrew referred to it.

  Raymond Caprice, Andrew’s grandfather, greeted them at the door. He was tall and erect despite his old age. He looked much younger than his 85 years, and carried himself like a man half his age. He wore a sensible set of trousers and house shoes, and a neat, light blue-collared shirt.

  “Come in, come in. Oh you must be Kara!” He said ushering them in.

  “Hello! It’s so good to meet you. Andrew has told me so much about you,” Kara beamed.

  “Oh no. I hope it was good.”

  “Mostly…” Andrew said huffing under the weight of the cardboard box.

  Andrew’s grandfather smiled sheepishly. He was very aware of his grandson’s propensity as a shut in and felt guilty for dragging him into the mess that the holidays had become.

  “Well let’s get you in and get you situated Andrew,” Grandfather said, leading them down the hall.

  Raymond led them through the soaring gallery of the mai
n hall. Dark-stained woodwork framed the room. A tasteful mix of family portraits, Victorian, and modern art adorned the walls of the main hall. Two sweeping stairways arched up to the second floor, the hallways dark. Taking them through the hall and making a short turn down a hallway, Raymond led them to a large salon. The winter sunlight streamed in and lit the room brilliantly.

  “Ah. You tried to compensate for the wrong season by doing the summoning in a room that was brightly lit,” Andrew observed.

  “Yes. Exactly!”

  “Well, that’s your problem. Winter sun is winter sun, you can’t fake summer,” Andrew said, fussing about the large room. He began removing crystals and lenses and arranging them about the room.

  Kara grinned at the elder Caprice.

  “Sorry. He gets so fussy when there is any excitement,” Kara said in stage whisper.

  Andrew glowered at her, but kept working.

  “You should’ve seen him as boy. Loved school. Abhorred sports. Truly enjoyed his studies.”

  “Well it has come in handy…” Kara said.

  “Yes that business with the mine. So good of him to clear that up.”

  “Yes. It was,” Andrew said flatly, “Now I get to clear this up.”

  “Don’t be so cross. You’ve only got to track the one down. It’s not like you have to deal with all of them,” Andrew’s grandfather said suddenly finding the curtains to be very interesting.

  “What do you mean ‘just the one’?”

  “Never you mind. Just stay focused on the task at hand,” Raymond said wagging his finger.

  Andrew sighed and turned back to the work at hand. A few minutes later, he finished and stepped outside the circle of crystals and lenses to view his work. He made a few small adjustments and stepped back into the center. He sighed and put his hands on his hips.

  “OK. So you’re certain the fairy came through here?”

  “Yes… that’s the last place I saw it before I chased one off that was getting fresh with your grandmother.”

  “I don’t want to know. I certainly don’t want to know,” Andrew said, hands raised.