He barely saw it, like a bullet. He shook the snow off his face. Tinsel was already getting another. He couldn’t hear her, not that far away, but he imagined she was giggling. She wasn’t going to get another one off.
Jon scooped up some snow. Before he got up, before he could turn around, the third one hit him square in the butt, knocking him face first into the snow.
“You’ll need some help!” she called.
Frosty, with legs like tree trunks, stood over him with his hand out.
Jon smiled.
“Build a wall, Frosty.”
He had a fortress wall, four feet tall and two feet thick. Frosty moved too fast to see it happen.
“Ammunition,” Jon said. “We need a pile of snowballs.”
Seconds later, a pyramid of perfectly sculpted snowballs appeared. Frosty was waiting for the next command when a snowball exploded on the side of his head. He absorbed most of it.
“You going to take that?” Jon said. “She just hit you with a snowball. I think she wants you to throw one back.”
Jon looked over the wall. Tinsel had built her own fortress with a hole in the middle.
“You ever heard of Swiss cheese?” Jon asked.
Frosty just stared.
“It has holes in it. Let’s turn Tinsel’s fort into Swiss cheese.”
The smile returned to the snowman’s face. Frosty didn’t reach for the pile. He simply made a throwing motion and snowballs rifled off the ends of his fingers, hitting the wall like cannonballs, punching gaping holes in it. They thudded with hollow sounds, like ice cracking, until the wall came crumbling down.
No Tinsel.
SPLAT!
The snowball came from behind him, knocking Jon into his own fortress.
And then the giggle.
Tinsel was behind them.
Jon smiled. He reached for his own cache–
EeeeieiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiIIIIIIIIIIIIII…
The wind follicles were sucked down like strands of spaghetti.
“The alarm,” Tinsel said.
Three spherical objects popped out of the ground, snow and ice swirling around them. Three more snowmen had formed.
Frosty’s head turned on a swivel. The eyes darkened and the ridges above them protruded. The wind picked up and the snowmen – all four of them – began to grow.
In the distance, Jon saw the first of the six-leggers.
C L A U S
23.
Jessica followed Merry and Nog down a short tunnel. Merry and Nog stopped at the only doorway. They turned, but didn’t say anything.
A melodic bell jingled.
“Do you want me to go in?” Jessica asked.
Merry held up a finger. Wait.
A pudgy female – shorter than Merry – slid out with her head slightly bowed, paying little attention to the three of them.
“All right, dearie.” Merry gestured. “You may go inside.”
“You’re not coming?” Jessica asked.
“No,” Nog said. “This is your journey.”
Jessica stepped into a small room.
The walls were dark blue. The floor was striped and swirled like knotty walnut. On the right, a trail of water poured from the wall into a small pool. To the left was an ice sculpture.
And straight ahead – sitting comfortably – was the woman known as Jocah.
Her long braid was pure white; her face wrinkled in puffy folds that nearly hid her sky-blue eyes.
“Jessica, hello.”
Jessica was going to speak first.
She had her entire speech laid out. First, she wanted to know where her husband was located and if they could help him and when. And then she wanted to know if they could help them get home. She had other questions, too.
But then Jocah spoke and they all dissolved.
“Please, sit.” Jocah pulled her hand from the pocket of her tunic and gestured to a chair near the ice sculpture.
“I’ll stand,” Jessica said. “Thank you.”
Jocah wasn’t smiling, but Jessica had the distinct feeling she was. In fact, the room felt… sunny. It was warm and bright, like home should feel.
All her problems just felt… gone.
Jessica moved her lips, but nothing came out.
“Life strangely unfolds,” Jocah said. “Would you say?”
Jessica nodded.
“One moment, you’re sure you know what your life is. The next, you are inside a sheet of ice.” Jocah rocked back and forth. “Life is often quite different than what we believe.”
“Can you save my husband?”
Jessica practically spit the words. They flew like pebbles.
Jocah’s thin lips seemed to curve this time. She stared at Jessica, rocking. Jessica felt like she was looking through her. Inside her. She felt like this ancient woman, in an instant, knew everything about her.
Jocah reached to the small table next to her and lifted a teapot, filling two cups. She did this slowly, purposefully. When they were filled, she handed one to Jessica.
“Tell me about him.” Jocah sipped. “Your husband.”
The tea was warm and oily. It started with a bitter taste, then turned silky and sweet, coating her throat.
“We were abandoned by our guides, left to die. We were barely surviving, but we decided to finish our quest to the top of the world. Our son, Jon, was snow-blind. While we were resting inside the tent, we thought we heard voices. Nicholas went to investigate.”
Jessica paused.
“It was the last time I saw him.”
She took another sip of tea. A knot swelled in her throat. Her head felt buzzy.
“Tell me more.” Jocah rocked in her chair.
Jessica thought about telling her how they’d ended up on the quest to the northern regions. How she and Nicholas craved adventure and truth.
But then she told her something entirely different.
Rich people looked down on street rats like Jessica.
They used her mother as a mat to wipe their feet and her father as a stepping stool. The rich wanted to sweep her brothers and sisters under the rug so they wouldn’t get in the way. They didn’t want the less fortunate spoiling all the fun.
She resented them for having when she did not.
Opportunity.
Nicholas was rich. He would be no different.
He waited outside their apartment building. He held out his hand to help her step over a puddle and she slapped it away. She shoved him against the wall, jabbing a finger in his face. Go back to your world.
The next day, he was there again. Hand extended.
He offered her an umbrella when it was raining. A coat when it was freezing.
Jessica ignored him, day after day.
Eventually, Nicholas stopped offering his help. He was still there, most days. He said good morning. He offered to carry the laundry she brought home to iron. She ignored him.
And even though she found herself looking forward to his smile, she told him to go away. The rich were cunning. They were deceptive. They were sharks that preyed on people like Jessica. She was dirty, unattractive. He will hurt me.
She was disappointed the morning he was not waiting. Good, she told herself. She could get on with the business of helping feed her family. But then she saw the gift on the bottom step. A red apple.
And the next day, a fig.
After that, an orange.
She was tempted to step on them. Instead, she took them inside and divided them into eight pieces: one for each of her little brothers and sisters. She took the littlest for herself.
Then came the morning when she plucked the laundry from the lines. She folded them, placing everything in a bag. When she got to the stockings, there were lumps at the bottoms. Each contained a small gift. Sometimes it was a toy or something useful like gloves.
She felt a bit of guilt. She kept the gifts because her family needed them. But she refused to acknowledge him. If the fool wanted to give her gifts, that was hi
s business. It would be no different than finding such things in the gutter.
And then came the day of the bakery.
She was off to fetch a loaf of bread. It was not her usual route. She rarely bought bread at the bakery, but her mother had received a generous tip the day before. The smell of rising dough filled her head, lifting her off her feet. She was dizzy with a watering mouth. She couldn’t help but tear a piece from the bag when the baker handed it to her. It melted in her mouth. Guilt nibbled at her, but she had another bite. And another.
She couldn’t stop.
And while she stood inside eating a day’s worth of bread, she looked out the window. A block away, she saw an old woman fall. Her cane sank in the mud. She crumpled into a heap.
Jessica saw a young man run to the old woman’s side. He gently helped her to her feet. He walked her out of harm’s way. He took his jacket off and wrapped it around her. He walked with her until they were out of sight.
Jessica’s heart melted like the bread.
It was impossible for him to plan it. There was no way he could know that she was watching.
Nicholas.
“I don’t like the way this feels,” Jessica whispered.
The sound of her voice startled her. She was back in the room with the small, old elven woman. She wasn’t sure if she’d said any of that or if she just remembered it. Where once the warmth of his love filled her chest, there was an empty ache as cold as the ocean.
“Life is not about what we like, Jessica.” Jocah’s voice was soft and steady. “It wants to be experienced. It wants you to be present.”
The ache felt bottomless. Hollow and barren. Beneath it was a quiver of fear, jagged like veins of toxic electricity. It went deep inside her, deep to the very core of who she was. Jessica felt the loneliness, the abandonment of life, the fear of rejection. She felt the things that had weighed on her as a child were still there. Things she tried to turn away from, to gloss over with Nicholas’s love. To fill her neediness.
But now he was gone. She faced them alone.
“I invite you to stay with us, Jessica. To live with us for as long as you and your son need to live with us.”
Jocah set the teacup down and dabbed the corners of her mouth.
“What about my husband?”
“We will find your husband.” Jocah stood up and tucked her hands into the folds of her tunic, once again. She appeared to be ready to leave. Or perhaps Jessica’s meeting was over. She had so many questions.
Jocah smiled. This time, her thin lips curled upward.
And the room was warm again.
And when a high-pitched sound penetrated from outside the room, her warm gaze never wavered. Jocah remained present and relaxed.
“Jocah.” Merry stepped inside the room. “We must evacuate.”
Jocah blinked heavily.
“The six-leggers have located us.”
C L A U S
24.
Six-leggers.
They were dingy, like dirty snow, galloping like six-legged polar bears. But fast, like wolves.
The abominables created a protective wall of howling snow and ice. Jon and Tinsel were inside the eye of the storm. The beasts tumbled backward under the assault of the four abominables. They merged together to become the storm.
But the beasts held low to the surface, creeping slowly through the assault. When one would near the eye wall, a blast of banded snow would bat it out of sight.
But there were more.
Elven began popping above the surface.
“Ten minutes!” Tinsel shouted.
Jon looked around. The snow was crowded with short, round elven. And then she was there. His mother was above the ice, standing almost three feet above Merry and Nog and the others.
Jessica waved. Jon started toward her–
The first beast broke the eye wall.
It hit the snow with its front legs, burying its four back legs to spring. Its eyes were black. The lips pulled back, exposing a double row of jagged teeth and black gums.
Jon stumbled back.
The thing saw him. It shifted its weight and shot from the snow like a spring-loaded weapon.
Saliva hanging.
Claws out.
KA-BOOOOM!
A white fist powdered the beast.
Frosty swirled out of the eye wall. He stood as large as an elephant, digging his gorilla-sized arm into the snow and grabbing the six-legger. The beast roared and snapped and tore at the snowy arm. Frosty reared back and flung it through the eye wall and out of sight.
And then he dissolved back into the storm.
Sleighs were on the surface, the reins ready and waiting. The six-leggers’ roars were louder. The battle was creeping closer.
SPLOOSH!
Donner landed.
The elven quickly hooked the sleigh and loaded. Donner crouched and leaped, rocketing through a hole that opened in the eye wall.
Blitzen, Dasher, and Prancer were loaded and gone.
Half of the elven had evacuated.
Jessica had boarded the sleigh with Vixen, shouting for Jon to climb aboard. He watched her soar out of harm’s way.
The largest group of elven emerged around the white-braided woman. They helped her into the largest sleigh.
Comet and Cupid were loaded and off. The storm held and the elven were nearly gone. Dancer was on the ice and the sleigh fastened–
SPLOOSH!
Rudy landed.
Jocah was safely aboard the sleigh that was secured to the fiercest reindeer of the herd. Jon grabbed onto Dancer’s sleigh, propped his leg onto the floorboard–
RrrrrrrrRRRRRRaaaAAARRr!
Jocah’s sleigh spun.
A six-legger broke through and smashed the sleigh’s arms. Elven fell from the spinning sleigh.
Some shouted warnings. Others cried out.
Jocah was in the back of the sleigh.
The six-legger launched at her, legs extended and lips pulled back.
A rack of antlers swung around, knocking the beast out of the air. It tumbled across the snow. The abominables couldn’t break out of the eye wall to help; there were too many six-leggers.
Rudy lowered his head.
The massive rack spread out like an impassable fence. His nose was fire red and snorting. His eyes were trained on the six-legger that was back on its feet, circling. Rudy kept between the beast and the sleigh.
Dancer waited for Jon. The elven shouted at him, but he couldn’t climb aboard. There were elven still trying to harness Rudy. The sleigh couldn’t launch and the red-nose reindeer couldn’t hold still.
“Go!” Jon slapped Dancer.
The six-legger lunged at Jon. Rudy swung his antlers into its path, batting it back. Tinsel helped Jon lift the sleigh’s arms. Rudy backed into place while watching the six-legger get back to its feet. The arms locked onto the harness with a solid click.
Jon helped the remaining elven into the sleigh. The last one was unconscious.
The reins lay unmanned over the front of the sleigh.
Screams.
Two more six-leggers were inside.
They spread out. Rudy couldn’t stop them.
Jon jumped aboard and grabbed the reins. Tinsel slid next to him.
He heard the six-leggers’ roars. He smelled their foul breath – the stink of rotten meat – as Rudy launched. Tinsel shouted.
The wind-shear bubble isn’t up.
Subzero wind blasted Jon. His body temperature plummeted.
He wouldn’t remember anything.
C L A U S
25.
Claus sat at his workbench.
The surface was covered with tools and parts. He cleared off a space, punching buttons that appeared on the desktop, moving them with the tip of his finger. Sometimes he combined the illusory shapes, other times he drew a line between them, depending on the bond he wanted.
It had been months since he’d invented anything, not since he refined the sky-eye t
hat allowed them to monitor the North Pole from above with snowflake-size monitors. He knew it was another step towards capturing the rebels, so he tried to slow the progress down as much as possible.
With all this technology, WHY CAN’T WE FLY?
Claus explained the physics that made it difficult, but if he was honest, he just didn’t want to do it.
Nicholas snorted, smacking his lips in a fitful sleep.
Claus slid off the stool and checked his vital signs. He dropped the coin on the floor and watched the image appear, standing next to the head of the recliner. The bones had healed nicely. Even the lung had come along better than expected.
Cane clutched Claus’s sleeve as he stood on his toes to put his latest toy on Nicholas’s lap.
“Santa,” Cane said.
“Very kind of you, Cane.”
Claus picked up the toy. It was an amazing likeness of Jessica. Cane had seen some of the memories and fashioned the toy sculpture from scraps of pliable molding that allowed him to develop the facial features.
It was a nice gift, but would it remind him of what he was missing? Or would he not even be aware of what he once had?
“Is that what you’re doing with your time?” Jack’s voice dripped like icy slivers. “Playing with toys? Tsk, tsk, tsk… someone needs to grow up.”
“We’re checking vitals, Janack. Keeping him healthy.”
“Is that it? You and the little one.”
Cane hid behind Claus and didn’t bother peeking out.
Claus went through the motions of checking the pulse and listening to Nicholas breathe. Something fell off the bench, tinkling on the floor. It began raining spare parts.
“Someone told me the memory drain was not complete.” Jack slid his arm down the bench, shoving everything to the end. “I told them that was a lie. I told them my brother wouldn’t do such a traitorous thing and that liars are filthy. And then I froze his head because it can’t be true.”
“A dead warmblood is no good.”
The bench was cleared with a final crash.
“YOU’RE REALLY STARTING TO PISS ME OFF!”
Claus Trilogy (Boxed Set) Page 9