by E. A. Copen
“And you’re what? Some kind of leader?”
He nodded and pulled a metal ladder from where it was attached on the back of the sled. It wasn’t near long enough to reach the ground, and yet when he unfolded it, it reached all the way down. I got the distinct feeling that it’d grow as high or as short as he needed it, though I didn’t sense any magic at work. Maybe the Kringles just had a sort of magic that was undetectable to outsiders. He tested the weight of it with a foot before climbing carefully on. “A new Santa is elected every three years at the Christmas Convention. Kringles, the Krampuses, and elves all get to cast a vote.”
Emma grabbed the top of the ladder and held it steady. “So, the North Pole is a democracy?”
“With all the problems that come with it,” Klaus confirmed. “Except it used to be, we slept for most of the year. Over the past few decades, our sleep time has waned. Last year, we got less than a month of rest before we had to get up and begin prepping for the next holiday season. It’s exhausting. Mask and his creatures have been taking advantage of that and attacking without reprieve. We should be on break right now. Instead, we’re battling an incursion. It’s enough to make anyone grumpy.”
When he reached the bottom, he secured the ladder and motioned for me to climb down. I did, and Emma went next, followed by Guy. Once we were all on the ground, we followed Klaus around to the front of the house.
“So, how do you keep from being seen by security cameras and stuff?” I whispered my question, afraid to wake someone.
Klaus spread his fingers and a chill ran over me.
Emma shivered. “What the hell was that?”
“Special Kringle cloaking spell.” He grinned and pressed his finger to the side of his nose. Klaus removed one of his mittens and grasped the doorknob with two fingers. The lock clicked and the door slid open without him even turning the knob.
Guy hung back. “The rest of you go on. I think I’d better not go in there.”
I frowned at him. “How come?”
He winced. “There are just some places guys like me aren’t welcome. This house is giving off that vibe. It’s protected. I don’t know how to explain it, but if I went in…”
I nodded, understanding. Houses that were homes had a threshold, a sort of magical barrier that kept nasty things from coming through easily. It filtered out most magic. I didn’t have to leave any of mine behind because I’d forged a bond with Nate and his wife, but Guy didn’t know them.
Not every house was a home. Living in it wasn’t enough to build up that sort of protection. It took time, pride, and happy memories to strengthen a threshold. It was reassuring to hear that Nate’s was still intact, especially after all the struggles he and his family had been through recently.
Nate’s living room had several strings of electric lights draped from the walls, blinking in blue and white, as well as a few wreaths and a big, brass menorah on the table. The candles had been removed and placed in a dish beside it, along with one of those long lighters.
Klaus looked around and slid in further, making room for Emma and me.
“I should be the one to wake him,” I said. If he saw Klaus, he’d probably lose it, and Emma’s hand was still straying too close to her gun for comfort. The fight had left her jumpy. The worst that would happen if I surprised them was that Leah would clobber me.
The first stair groaned under my weight. I winced and waited for someone to come barreling around the corner with a bat. When no one did, I let out the breath I’d been holding and crept up the stairs the rest of the way.
The upstairs was dark except for a small sliver of light coming from under the bathroom door. Maybe they’d left it on. If so, then why close it. Maybe one of them had gotten up to wander to the toilet. If so, I’d better hang back here. Don’t want them to walk in and find me hovering at the end of the bed in the dark.
I waited just outside the door in as casual a pose as I could manage. A short moment later, the toilet flushed. The sink turned on for a minute, then it and the light went off in short succession before the door opened. A bleary-eyed and shirtless Nate halted in the doorway, squinting at me.
I lifted a hand to wave. “Hey, buddy.”
Nate shrieked and darted back into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. Before I could knock on the door and explain myself, there was a loud crash in the bedroom, and Leah came running out, clutching a golf club like a baseball bat.
“Get out of my house!” she shrieked and swung it at me.
I ducked, barely dodging. The golf club hit the wall instead and carved out a good chunk. Good thing I’d moved out of the way or that could’ve been my skull. “Leah! It’s me! Cease fire!”
She hesitated a moment. The bathroom door opened, light from the little room flooding the hallway so that they could see me clearly for the first time.
Nate blinked and squinted again. “Lazarus?”
Leah gritted her teeth and looked like she wanted to take another swing at me, but she lowered the golf club and huffed out a heavy breath. “What in the world are you doing here? Did you break into my house?”
“What? No!” I waved my hands. “I mean, sort of. But it wasn’t me. Look, Leah, it’s complicated, but I need to borrow your husband for a few.”
Her hands tightened around the golf club. “Oh no, you don’t. You don’t get to disappear for two days and then show up, acting like everything is fine, only to steal my husband away for one of your magical schemes! I won’t allow…” Her voice trailed off, her focus shifting beyond me, eyes growing wider. “What the heck is that?”
I glanced back to see Klaus clearing the stairs. “Who? Him? He’s Klaus, the current Santa.”
“Why is Santa in my house?”
Nate put a hand on his wife’s shoulder. “Go back to bed, Leah. I’ll take care of this.”
She gave him a warning glare. “If you go off on another one of these adventures, you’d better call to check-in, or I swear—”
“Leah,” he said firmly, “You’re going to have to get used to this. I’m going to be the next Pale Horseman. Weird things are going to happen. We talked about this.”
Just like that, all the fight went out of her. She deflated like a balloon with another sigh before pinching Nate’s cheek. “Don’t you die on me,” she said and kissed his forehead.
He smiled and kissed her back. “Keep the light on for me so I can find my way home.”
Leah gave us one more appraising look, then trudged back to the bedroom, dragging the golf club behind her. She didn’t shut the door but appeared in the doorway a moment later, Nate’s glasses in hand. He took them from her, ushered her back inside and closed the door gently behind him as he came back out with a small overnight bag in hand.
“What’s that?” I asked, gesturing to the bag.
“Bug-out bag.” He placed the bag on the floor. “After the last couple times you showed up needing something at short notice, I figured it was a good idea.” Nate slid his glasses on and blinked. “Now, what’s this all about?”
“I need to get back to the Nightlands,” I said.
Nate frowned. “Which means you need to die. You want me to watch your body for you again.” He sighed. “When I become Death, I hope I never have to do all of this.”
“You won’t,” I promised. “You’re smarter than me. You won’t make the same mistakes I did.”
Nate glanced at Klaus. “Do I even want to know what Santa has to do with anything?”
Jingle Bells started playing, and Klaus went digging through his pockets before producing a fat satellite phone. “Sorry. Gotta take this.” He rushed for the stairs while answering the phone.
“Why don’t you get dressed and I’ll explain everything along the way. I’d dress warmly if I were you. I have a feeling we’re going to be headed back to the North Pole very soon.”
While Nate dressed, I went back downstairs to check on Klaus. I found him in the kitchen, pacing near the sink. Cute little snowflake dish
towels hung off the handle of the stove. Not a thing looked out of place in Leah’s kitchen. I wondered if my future home with Emma would look this neat and tidy. I’d always thought Emma was a clean freak before I got to know her. Turns out, she just didn’t spend a lot of time at home. I admitted to being a slob with no table manners, though, so I doubted our place would be as spotless.
“News from the front?” I asked eagerly.
Klaus stopped pacing. “The fae managed to repel the attack, but they took losses—more than I would have liked. We can hold them for a while, but not forever. Especially if more Krampuses come.”
I leaned against the kitchen wall, near a big chalkboard sign with a Bible verse on it. “I’m still not sure I get why one was there, or what they are.”
Klaus sighed and pulled out a chair at the table. “They’re like us. Once, they were us. Kringles. But they pledged themselves to other gods, strange gods, and lost their way.”
“The Outer Gods. Guy told me about them.”
He nodded. “They were recruited to the service of these Outer Gods by another Voidwalker long ago. The Outer Gods oppose the Old Ones, whom Mask serves. Served, I suppose. Rumor has it that he’s betrayed them. Generally, the Outer Gods want little to nothing to do with humans. Humans, even those with magic, don’t have enough power to register on their radar. But when a human becomes the vessel for an Old One, even one who has betrayed his own kind, it draws their interest.”
I crossed my arms. “Guy said it was because of a potential break in reality, whatever that means.”
“I suppose.” Klaus shrugged. “I don’t have much contact with either group beyond trying to keep them from their repeated incursions onto Earth. I’m a simple Kringle. I don’t pretend to understand reality, strange gods, and their servants. I do know that Mask is bad. Stopping him is good. Stopping him also lets me rest, and I am all for whatever lets me get a good night’s sleep.”
“Amen to that,” I muttered.
Nate appeared in the doorway dressed in a simple black sweater, black jeans, and work boots. He’d donned a knitted cap and was in the process of shrugging on a heavy parka and thick gloves.
“Where’d you get all that?” I asked as he zipped up the parka. “This is the South. It barely ever drops below freezing, yet you’re prepared for an expedition to Antarctica.”
“I’ve adopted a new motto,” he said, wrapping himself in a scarf and bending to pick up his bag. “Be prepared for anything and nothing can surprise you.”
“A good motto.” Klaus nodded approvingly.
Nate’s voice was muffled. “You want some milk and cookies before we go?”
Klaus’s face lit up. “Did you say cookies?”
It took a while for Nate to unbundle and fetch the tin of cookies from the fridge. While the two of them bonded over sweets, I went to check in with Guy outside. Emma was with him, and the two of them were silently watching the skies as if they’d open up at any minute and pour more Maws on New Orleans.
I tried to imagine it. Wasn’t hard, with everything else that’d happened. They would overrun the city in hours, and there’d be little to nothing I could do to stop them. Not that I’d want to. Even as I’d been fighting them at the North Pole, there had been a part of me that didn’t want to, a little voice telling me to walk away. It wasn’t my fight. Such small creatures couldn’t possibly be a threat. I’d wanted to lie down and sleep in the snow. Willpower alone kept me going, and fear that if I did, I wouldn’t ever wake up.
“Nate and Santa are having milk and cookies before liftoff,” I told them.
“It’s good that someone’s enjoying their night.” Emma hugged herself.
I pulled her close, if just to share a little warmth. It wasn’t that cold outside, not compared to the North Pole, but the memory of what we’d seen there was chilling enough.
She rested her head on my chest. “I don’t want you to go.”
“I know.” I stroked a gloved hand over her hair. Static electricity sparked and made some bits of it stand on end.
“I’ll take good care of him,” Guy promised. “Make sure he gets back in time to get married, too.” He lit a cigarette. There was a small pile of them growing at his feet. Something had him nervous. Was it the upcoming trip to the Nightlands or something else?
Emma buried her face further in my chest with a groan. “Oh, that’s right. The wedding. I don’t know what’s worse, facing the end of the world or going back to work on that seating chart.”
“I told you that you didn’t have to work on it.”
“You know, I almost got married once.” Guy leaned against the railing on the front porch.
Emma lifted her head to give him a doubtful look. “You’re not even completely human.”
Guy shrugged. “She didn’t know that. Poor girl didn’t know much of anything about me. Thought I was just another Yank like the rest of ‘em.”
I couldn’t resist the bait. “What happened?”
He pulled the cigarette from between his lips and examined the dying embers at the edge of the paper. “Turns out I didn’t know her all that well either.” He tapped some ash off the end. “The point I was gonna make though, was that it’s rare for two people to get along well enough for long enough they decide they want to spend the rest of their lives together. Think of all the things in the universe that had to go right. You had to meet the way you did, work things out the way you did, exactly as you did. Now, multiply that by the number of generations in history going all the way back. The chances you’d find happiness with each other are astronomically small. You’ve done all the work. The rest is just icing on an already very nice cake.”
Emma slid away from me. “Are you saying you think a wedding isn’t worth all this stress?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying. But then, what do I know? I’m a cosmic being trapped in the body of a deadbeat cop from the Roosevelt era.” He shrugged, put his cigarette back in his mouth, and shuffled back toward the ladder to the roof.
Emma frowned after him. “You don’t feel the same way, do you?”
I sighed. “I don’t care about a wedding, Emma. We could get married in your living room if you wanted as long as you’re happy. That’s what’s important to me.”
Her shoulders shook. At first, I thought I’d said something to make her cry, but then she started snickering. “Can you imagine Mom’s face? She’d lose it! Hey, Mom. Sorry, but we canceled the wedding. Don’t bother coming. We’re already in Honolulu.”
I took her hands in mine with a smile. “On the beach, in the sun, sipping drinks from coconut shells.”
She rolled her head toward the sky. “I’d much rather do that than work on another damn seating chart.”
The front door opened and Nate stepped out, bundled tighter than a Christmas present. Klaus came behind him, chocolate chip cookies overflowing from his pockets.
“We’re going to the North Pole,” Nate said excitedly.
Emma let go of my hands and slid back a few steps to let them pass. “What if there’s another attack? Will we be safe there?”
Klaus nodded. “Safer than here, anyway. Here, civilians might get hurt if another Krampus or Yule Cat attacks. At least at the Pole, you’ll have an army watching over you.”
He had a point. There was nowhere else I’d be safer than behind Klaus’ wards and guarded by Remy’s armies. Well, except maybe if I didn’t go to the underworld to start with. There were still gods there who didn’t like me. Maybe showing up on their doorstep and hoping they’d just let me walk through to the Nightlands wasn’t the smartest idea I’d ever had. Still, it was the only idea anyone had come up with so far, and Guy assured me it would work, so long as we took that creepy book with us. Besides, I didn’t see anyone else coming up with any other options. Believe me, I’d have taken any that didn’t require me to die one more time.
Nate hauled his bright red medic bag through the front door and practically skipped to the ladder. Footsteps bange
d up the metal rungs. A moment later, he called down to us. “Well, what are you waiting for?”
“Someone’s excited,” I grumbled and trudged through the dead grass toward the ladder.
Guy flicked his cigarette to the walk and shook his head. “And here I thought I’d live long enough to get bored.”
I helped Emma up the ladder. “You’ll live long enough, all right. You’re not the one who has to die for this to work.”
“True.” His eyebrows pinched. “But going to the Nightlands isn’t what you’d call safe, not even for someone like me.”
Chapter Eleven
The wind whipped by too loudly for any of us to speak, even with Klaus’s strange protective magic bubble around us. As we flew back to the North Pole, I couldn’t help but remember my last trip to the Nightlands.
To open the doors, I’d needed a key and the blood of a Titan, which I’d obtained by talking to various gods. None of the gods had just handed the keys over. They’d wanted me to do each of them a favor first. I didn’t have that kind of time this time around. I also didn’t think I had time to go walking through all seven hells. I needed to go straight to Irkalla to see Nergal and Ereshkegal, the gods in charge of Irkalla, the Babylonian underworld. They’d walked me to the door in the Nightlands, or at least the door that led to the weird space between the Nightlands. Anyway, the last time I’d spoken to them, they were dealing with a crisis of their own. A crisis of souls.
The long and short of the situation was that the gods were hoarding souls, keeping them from being processed. The rebirth cycle of human souls had slowed, and eventually Ereshkegal and Nergal would have to make a choice: allow humans to be born without souls or replenish their soul stores through some apocalyptic-level extinction event. They’d been leaning toward the latter.
Unfortunately, the cause of the shortage wasn’t easy to address. The other underworld gods were hoarding them to use as a power source in case war broke out. Asking them to give them up would be akin to negotiating the surrender of a nuclear arsenal. No one was going to do that easily.