Claus: The Trilogy

by Tony Bertauski

  She pulled the follicles open a little more. Seeing her son helped, too.

  Alive.

  She watched Jon and Tinsel holding hands.

  Alive and happy.

  Rudy snorted and tossed his head.

  Jessica meant to duck back into the forest of strands, but Tinsel and Jon looked at where Rudy was motioning. They saw her spying on them and let go of each other’s hands. Jessica stepped back and stood still, hoping they would think the moonlight played tricks.

  “Mom?”

  A chill coursed through Jessica; her skin was dimply. She stifled a sob that constricted her throat. Despite the sadness, she needed to hear that.

  Mom.

  She stayed inside the fibers, letting them push against her as they swayed, like the world embraced her, told her everything was all right. There were footsteps. She remained still. A red light penetrated the fibers. Rudy’s nose snorted its way into her belly. He pulled out and bellowed.

  Busted.

  Rudy stood over Tinsel and Jon.

  “Do you want to feed them?” Jon asked.

  The rest of the herd shuffled back as Jessica took a few steps. Tinsel looked back. “They’re nervous around strangers, but it’s all right.”

  “I thought I got to know them when Nog and I…” Jessica trailed off.

  “They have short memories,” Tinsel said.

  Rudy dipped his head and pushed Tinsel with his muzzle. She tipped over and grabbed onto Jon. Then both of them went to the ground, rolling around like beach balls. Beach balls that laughed.

  Jessica smiled.

  She smiled and stepped out of the fiber field.

  Jon told her about his new recipe. He told her how he could feel reindeer in his chest, could tell when they were happy or sad, tired or excited. He couldn’t explain it, it just happened. And he filled her hand with treats and led her to the herd. It wasn’t long before they were gathered around, nuzzling her for food.

  She couldn’t feel them, though. Not like Jon.

  He belonged here.

  Jessica felt a weight lifted from her.

  This is home.

  The reindeer were fed and ready to return to the mainland. Jessica scratched Cupid behind the ear and his back leg twitched. Tinsel and Jon thought that was hilarious. They’d never seen one of them act like that.

  Jessica tried it on Comet.

  It worked again.

  And while they were laughing, two elven were racing toward them. Jessica’s fingers slowed and Comet pushed against her to go faster.

  Merry and Nog slid up to them.

  “We have news.”

  Jessica’s heart quickened.

  C L A U S

  88.

  “You think he’s dead?”

  It was a tiny voice, so far away, like it was coming through a straw poked through layers of ice.

  A finger – just as tiny as the voice – poked Nicholas somewhere on the face. His cheek, maybe. It tickled his beard.

  “I think he’s dead. He’s cold.”

  “Of course he’s cold!” another voice, this one not so tiny, said. “Everything’s cold. Is he dead-cold?”

  “I don’t know. What’s dead-cold?”

  Something came crunching near the voices. Nicholas felt someone hovering over him.

  “Pull the hood back,” a third voice ordered.

  There was a commotion. Something brushed against his beard and fluttered over his face. He felt the coolness of a breeze and the darkness lightened. Something was breathing over him. In fact, three things were breathing.

  Nicholas opened his eyes.

  His eyelashes crunched as the frost broke away. Three lumps were directly in front of him.

  He blinked. They were bearded.

  Blink, again.

  Bearded elven.

  “Told you he was alive,” one of them said.

  “You said he was cold.”

  “I didn’t say dead-cold.”

  Nicholas groaned and they pulled back. The night sky was behind them. Nicholas began to smile. They were elven scouts. Nicholas remembered their faces. And their names.

  “Little help?” Nicholas lifted his arm.

  The elven looked at each other then latched onto Nicholas’s outstretched hand and pulled him into a sitting position. Layers of ice cracked and fell from his chest. He brushed the pieces off and then, with a heavy grunt, got to his feet and stretched.

  The air was sharp in his chest.

  The stars so bright.

  It felt so good to be alive.

  The elven stood. Staring.

  “Martis, how are you, old friend?” Nicholas boomed.

  The elven on the left, the one with the red beard, nodded. He started to say something – like how do you know my name? – but then kept nodding.

  “Kevish?” Nicholas turned to the one in the middle, the one with the beard to his toes. “How’s the bad knee treating you?”

  Long-bearded Kevish looked at his leg. Looked at Nicholas. He didn’t say anything.

  Nicholas chuckled again, a rumble of laughter. Ha-ha.

  “And Saranock.” Nicholas dropped a heavy hand on the lead elven’s shoulder. “You’ve always been a master scout, it’s no wonder you found me. By the way, how’s your daughter doing? She just got married. Any little rugrats running around?”

  Saranock twirled the curly ends of his mustache.

  “How do you know us?” he said.

  “It’s a long story, my friend. A long one to tell on a frosty night.”

  Nicholas looked behind him. There was a large circle of fresh ice that was just beginning to drift with snow. All around it were large chunks of snow and ice where the palace had fallen.

  Somewhere beneath that ice was the answer to Saranock’s question.

  “A long and frosty night,” Nicholas said.

  News traveled fast.

  It didn’t take long for the others to race up to the North Pole. Many of them swore they would never return to that palace – too many bad memories – but the news of a warmblood that survived for three days on his own was too juicy not to.

  Some arrived by reindeer and self-propelled sleighs. They gathered around in a large circle and the fat man called them all by name. He knew every one of them and everything about them, like he was one of them! A new group would arrive and he would call them by name and wave them to the front and then lean back and laugh this loud merry laugh. It was so contagious that the laughter spread throughout the circle until they were all laughing.

  “I’ll make sure I check on little Sherman,” Nicholas was telling a young couple about their son. “He’s been distracted in school, and if he’s not careful, he’ll end up on the naughty list.”

  Laughter.

  The circle tightened as each of the elven wanted their turn to meet the all-knowing fat man when a new group arrived. Nicholas stood three feet taller than the crowd and watched the arrivals. He kept his eyes on the smallest of the group.

  Nicholas put out his hands and asked for quiet. Elven shushed each other until silence fell over the crowd. They slowly parted, allowing someone to move to the front. Nicholas took a knee as those nearest to him moved away and looked at the smallest of the elven – one dressed in green with a pointy hat and curly-toed shoes – step into view.

  Sheepishly, he stopped in front of the fat man. He looked into his eyes and cocked his head curiously. He was looking for something.

  Nicholas put his hands on his shoulders and allowed Cane to see the twinkle in his eyes. To see what Claus had left behind.

  Cane wrapped his arms as far as he could around the fat man’s belly.

  Nicholas hugged him back.

  “He loves you very much, Cane.” Nicholas patted his back. “Very, very much.”

  The crowd began clapping. They didn’t know why, exactly. It just felt like it needed clapping.

  Cane began to dance to the rhythm of applause. Everyone fell into rhythm and cheered him on as he d
anced around the fat man. Nicholas stood up and joined the merriment.

  “Santa Claus!” Cane chanted. “Santa Claus! Santa Claus! Santa Claus!”

  The crowd caught on and began to clap and chant.

  Nicholas threw back his head and began to laugh.

  “Ha-ha-ho!”

  It boomed through the crowd.

  “HO-HO-HO!”

  Soon they were all dancing.

  “HO-HO-HO!”

  A red light streaked near the North Pole, where elven were enthusiastically dancing and clapping and celebrating. Nicholas watched the sleigh come to a stop. The others hadn’t noticed.

  Nicholas stopped clapping as the group unloaded. He watched the crowd selflessly allow the newest arrivals come to the front for their turn. Merry and Nog approached, holding hands. Their expressions were solemn, but happy.

  “Heard a lot about you,” Merry said. “You’re very special.”

  “Special, yes,” Nog added. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

  “Thank you.” Nicholas meant that from the bottom of his heart. “I’ve heard a lot about you as well.”

  Merry and Nog let go of each other and looked back. The crowd, sensing the moment, began to spontaneously part and silence slowly fell. They followed Merry’s and Nog’s gazes back through the opening to the woman outside the crowd.

  Jessica stood still.

  Quite still.

  Nicholas was transfixed by her beauty. He had dreamed of her for months. And now she was here. He took a step.

  She did, also.

  And by the time each had taken a second step, they were running. They hit each other hard, wrapping their arms around each other and squeezing so tightly that they nearly crushed each other. They embraced like they would never let go.

  Never again.

  The elven cheered. Some cried.

  Jessica put her hands on Nicholas’s cheeks. “I thought you were…”

  “I’m not.”

  Tears filled her eyes. She stroked his beard. “You look so different.”

  He let his fingers get lost in her hair.

  “You don’t,” he said.

  A pair of elven stood before them.

  Nicholas clasped Jessica’s hand and stepped back. He looked at the couple. He knew the girl was Tinsel. She was the herder, one of the few elven that could communicate with the reindeer. But the other one, he didn’t recognize him. Not with Claus’s memories.

  But he knew him.

  He knew this young man.

  Nicholas looked at Jessica. She nodded.

  He fell on his knees and threw out his arms.

  “What’s the matter, my boy?” he said. “You too old to hug the old man?”

  Jon and Tinsel, together, jumped into his arms. He squeezed them until they were out of breath. Nicholas lifted them up and turned to the festive crowd.

  “What are we waiting for, elven?” he shouted. “We’re home! The North Pole is our home!”

  And with that, the celebration continued.

  It went through the night and the next day. There was music, food, snowballs, and naked elven plunging into holes in the ice.

  The next day, the engineers brought the follicle wind harvesters and energy was restored. And the elven began to make their home again.

  At the North Pole.

  C L A U S

  89.

  It was a year later to that very day when the reindeer gathered at the North Pole.

  Now that the Fracture had ended, they spent more time on the mainland and less time jumping.

  Where the palace – gaudy and ornate and monstrous – once stood was now a modest mound that spread out for a square mile. Below the ice there were endless rooms and tunnels.

  On this night, the reindeer were tethered together in two rows with a sleigh at the back. Rudy, however, was at the front all alone, his nose bright red and illuminating the pair of elven that were walking down both sides, pulling treats from bags attached to their hips.

  “You sure this is going to work?” Merry climbed out of the ice.

  Nog was right behind her. “Of course it will.”

  “Is there enough energy for the timesnap to work?” she asked. “If he runs out, he’ll be stranded on the other side of the world and then how are we going to–”

  “Merry.” Nog put his finger on her lips. “It will work.”

  She took his hand away and kissed the back of it.

  Jessica climbed out of the ice. The reindeer shuffled as she neared, but she went to the front and around the massive spread of antlers and rubbed Rudy’s glowing nose.

  “How is everyone?” she asked.

  “Fat and happy,” Jon announced.

  Vixen snorted and tossed her head, glaring at him.

  “He didn’t mean fat, like fat-fat, Vixen.” Tinsel rubbed her leg. “He meant big and strong and healthy, not fat. Right, Jon?”

  He nodded and gave Vixen an extra helping of special treats. All was forgiven.

  A red cap emerged from the ice and appeared to get stuck. Merry, Nog and Jessica helped lift Nicholas out. He crawled on his knees and then stood up. He adjusted the wide black belt around the bright red coat.

  “It’s too tight, Jessica,” Santa Claus said. “How many times do I have to tell the tailors to add a few more inches to the waistline?”

  “Perhaps you need to eat less.”

  “I’ll freeze to death if I’m not fat and healthy.”

  Some of the reindeer rolled their eyes.

  “Stop it,” Santa Claus said, pointing at them. “You just concentrate on leaping.”

  Jessica brushed the snow off his shoulders and straightened the fuzzy red cap on his head. She kissed his cheek and whispered I love you. Santa hugged her and whispered back.

  Every elven was on the ice.

  They formed a circle around the sleigh. They were clapping and cheering and throwing hats. They had expected this day. It was finally here.

  Santa Claus waved and the cheering shook the ice.

  He waved both arms, and after several attempts to get their attention, silence fell.

  Santa Claus cleared his throat. “Thank you,” he said. “I’d like to take a moment to remember those elven that have gone before us. They sacrificed much and we must not forget.”

  He bowed his head.

  A collective head-bowing ensued.

  A crisp breeze fluttered over them. A full moon, glowing.

  They remembered.

  Santa Claus climbed into the sleigh with only a single bench. The reindeer restlessly stomped the ice. Tinsel and Jon threw the last of the treats and stepped back with Jessica.

  “Charged and ready.” Nog handed a large bag to Santa. “You should be able to reach inside and pull whatever you need out of it.”

  Santa put the bag on the seat next to him.

  “You sure you want to do this?” Jessica asked. “We’re not warmbloods anymore.”

  “Of course we are, my dear. We’ll always be warmbloods.” He touched his chest. “It’s about time they knew we’re up here.”

  He waved his arms.

  “AT THE TOP OF THE WORLD!”

  The crowd cheered.

  He held the reins and winked at the small party that stood back.

  “I’ll be back in a jiff,” he said. His eyes twinkled.

  And with that, he gently tugged the reins.

  “Now, Dasher! Now, Dancer! Now, Prancer and Vixen…” he shouted, calling out all the reindeer names.

  The reindeer crouched and, in unison, launched from the ice with enough force to crack it beneath them. Jessica, Merry, Nog, Tinsel and Jon watched it soar up into the winter sky, Rudy’s nose tracing a red streak in the night. They could hear Santa Claus laughing.

  And then the timesnapper ignited and they were gone.

  They waited for him to return. It would just be a few seconds.

  JACK

  The Tale of Frost

  J A C K

 
The North Pole

  1820

  Pawn ran for three days.

  He didn’t exactly run. Pawn was an elven: short and insulated, with layers of fat to survive the Arctic cold. His feet were wide and the soles scaly. He glided over ice, swam through frigid water, and rolled over the snow, rarely stopping… for if he did—if he so much as paused to catch his breath—a fire ignited the back of his head like the blue flame of a torch.

  So onward he slogged beneath the Arctic winter sky, dark during the day. Darker at night.

  It was sometime during the third night Pawn thought he would die. He began to shiver. Elven had lived through the Ice Age and carved their homes in the North Pole ice. They had adapted. They rarely felt the cold. And if they did, they certainly didn’t shiver.

  Pawn had no food. Even if he did, he couldn’t slow down to eat it. After three days, his body had begun consuming fat in search of calories.

  There were no reindeer beasts soaring overhead in search of him, no bright red nose streaking the sky. Surely his fellow elven wouldn’t be looking for him just yet. They would still be celebrating their freedom. They had just overthrown Jack, Pawn’s only friend.

  Jack is dead.

  When he tripped on an ice ridge, he began to roll. Once he stopped, his head began to sizzle. He cried out—perhaps blacked out—but it didn’t soothe the agony. He knew the tiny capsule Jack had buried beneath his scalp would not kill him—it would force him to obey.

  Go south.

  Pawn crawled to his knees and the pain eased to a small flame. He couldn’t get up, though. He had very little energy. Worse, his will to live had been crushed. He just wanted it to end, but his own thoughts were being replaced by other thoughts that forced him to keep moving, keep pushing, keep struggling.

  Keep suffering.

  And so it was that he didn’t hear the dogs barking until they were upon him. When he looked up, he saw them racing at him, their tongues lolling from drooling, black lips.