by Sam Cheever
“Does Bob know how to use it?”
Ralphy’s eyes widened and he glanced around the roof, apparently realizing for the first time that his friend was gone. “Frunk me.”
“Yeah.” I reengaged my communication with Glynus. We have a problem.
The music blared briefly through our pathway and then stopped. What is it? my dragon asked.
The sleigh Darma’s driving has NPPS. She’ll be able to locate Santa. You need to get down to the workshop and send security elves after Santa. Tell them, if they encounter Darma only to subdue, not vanquish.
I’ll try, but if the elves think Santa’s in trouble there’s no telling what they’ll do to Darma.
That’s why you and Snoopy need to go too, Glynus. I need you to keep Darma safe until I can get there.
What are you going to do, Mother halfling?
I sighed. I’m going to warn Dialle and the others that the bad guy we’re looking for is my sister. Then I’m going to steal a sleigh and come after you.
Take care, Mother halfling.
You too, tadpole. See you soon.
Shuffling my mental drawers I contacted Dialle. Hey, bud! I’ve got some news on the current situation.
Astra, my love. Have you exterminated all the bugs at the mall?
I grinned. I considered them rodents but bugs would do too. Sort of. Turns out the masks lose their whammy when you subject them to a little pixie dust. I cast my gaze toward the green faced group of elves a few feet away. Or a lot of pixie dust.
That’s what I hear. Sleighs full of elves have been turning up all over the world where the hostages have been taken. They’ve been defusing and dragging the ninja elves back to the North Pole. It looks like we might get a little Christmas Eve back after all.
I frowned, hating to burst his bubble. Not so fast, bud. I’m afraid we have a problem. Darma’s been infected with a mask.
Stunned silence pulsed across the channel. After a moment I gave him a nudge to make sure he hadn’t dropped dead. Dialle?
We’ll have to kill her, Astra.
I swallowed hard. Don’t be so melodramatic, Dialle.
Astra, these masks bring out the meanest mean a person carries around with them. Your sister specialized in mean before mean was cool. She created the term. Her picture is next to the word in the dictionary. Snakes learned their mean from Darma. Demons have no mean on her...
Okay, okay. I got it. This is bad. I know that.
Bad? We left bad behind a few sentences ago. This is apocalyptic.
I frowned. That’s so not helping.
I could almost hear him shrug. Well, if you won’t let me kill her, how are we going to stop the mean tsunami that is Darma Phelps?
We’re going to locate her and sprinkle her with pixie dust, drama king.
Oh. Okay. That will work too.
Shaking my head, I disconnected from Dialle after asking him to hotwire a sleigh, kidnap an elf, and meet me at Santa as soon as possible.
I looked at Ralphy. He was sprawled on the roof, all four limbs stretched out, looking like he’d been flattened by a sleigh. “You gonna make it?”
He gurgled wetly and I took a step backward so he wouldn’t hork on my kickin’ new boots. Compassion thy name is Astra.
“Where would I find a sleigh, Ralphy?”
He fixed a bleary gaze on me. “Why?”
“Isn’t that obvious?”
Groaning loudly, he shoved upright. “You want to go after your sister.”
“And save Santa. Yes.”
He tugged his stupid pointed hat off his head, revealing damp, curly dark hair that was mashed against his scalp in a perfect inverted bowl shape. He used the hat to wipe sweat off his brow and lip. “I’m going with you.”
“Do you really think you’re up to it?”
He shoved a sweaty hand in my direction. “You think you can figure out the NPPS?”
I grabbed his hand and yanked him to his feet and then some. His stupid curled shoes left the surface of the roof and he gave a little yelp before settling back down. “Do I have a choice?”
“Yes,” he said, tiring of the question game. “You have the choice of bringing me along.” Ralphy gave a long, melodic whistle and I looked around.
Nothing.
He whistled again and the sky remained empty. Even the travel-ways above our heads were empty, everyone apparently having settled down for a long Winter’s nap. “Maybe your whistle’s broken,” I offered helpfully.
“Shut up, Phelps.” He turned his head and promptly horked up sugar cookies five inches from my feet.
I yelped, jumping back. “Right on my boots, you little rodent.”
“Shut up.”
I glared at him, dragging the toes of my boots through the snow to clean them. “You tell me to shut up one more time I’m going to punch you on your little button nose.”
“No, I mean, shut up!” He lifted a finger and took a listening posture.
The sound of bells sang clear and soft through the night sky.
Ralphy gave me a smug smile. “Broken whistle my small, white ass.”
I growled a little, realizing the next few hours in the sleigh with my least favorite elf were going to be pain personified. “You ever puke on my boots again I’m going to make new ones out of your hide, elf.”
“Whooo, I’m so scared, Phelps.”
I ground my teeth. What I wouldn’t give in that moment for the collective coal from my last five Christmases. So I could chuck it at his pointy elf head.
~SC~
Hours later Ralphy had found the sleigh Darma was in and triangulated it with Santa’s sleigh, which happened to be over Guam at the moment we located it. He was frowning at the strange looking screen that just looked like a bunch of squiggly lines and snowflakes to me.
“Can we beat her there?”
Ralphy’s frown deepened, folding his little elf face into creases. “Not unless Rudolf has engaged EFS.”
“What in Hades is EFS?”
He looked at me like I came from one of the slower elf families. “It’s Emergency Flight Strategies, Phelps. Did you not read the manual I threw at you?”
I’d read the title and the Table of Contents. But then I’d gotten bored and was currently using it as a foot rest on the floor. “Every word. I didn’t see anything about an EFS. Where was it? Buried in the footnotes?”
My bluff failed pitifully.
Ralphy eyed the three inch thick manual beneath my boots. “Page two, Chapter One. EFS Planning and Use.”
I shrugged, glancing past his shoulder. “Is that reindeer asleep?”
Ralphy’s head whipped around and he snapped the reigns angrily. “Look alive Ashley!”
The reindeer in question jerked awake, rolling an irritated brown eye in my direction. I tried to look innocent but Ashley the drowsy reindeer didn’t seem to buy it. Go figure. “How long until we intercept Darma?”
“At the current rate of speed, with a strong headwind and increased gravitational pull because our anti-grav systems are on the fritz...about an hour after she reaches Santa.”
I frowned. “That won’t work. We need to equalize somehow. She’s got lots of presents in the sleigh, right? Maybe that will slow her down.”
“It will. A little. But not enough to help us.”
“Okay, Prince of Doom and Gloom, what will help us?”
Ralphy stared at the NPPS for a minute, frowning thoughtfully. “If she encounters a head wind...”
“Is that likely?”
He sighed. “Unfortunately not in that part of the world. They’ll be over Hawaii soon and the sleigh will slide into the Kalua Huey air stream. It’s like an escalator for sleighs. There’ll be no stopping them then.”
“What about Bob?”
“What about Bob?”
“Can’t he do something to slow them down?”
“Normally I’d say yes. But his brain’s probably still scrambled from the mask magics.” Ralphy shook his head. “Be
sides, Bob’s my friend and all, but even without magical scrambling he’s not the sharpest elf on the Pole.”
I sat back, my mind racing. I needed to come up with a way to slow them down. Then it hit me. “Dragons!”
Ralphy just stared at me. “What about them? You contacted Glynus and Spence, right?”
Ignoring him, I shuffled my mental drawers. Tadpole, where are you?
We just flew over the Philippines. I think Darma’s just ahead of us. What do you want us to do when we catch up to her?
Don’t get too close, she’s not in her right mind and might fire on you. But you need to slow her down as much as you can. Ralphy and I are hurrying to you, but we’re about an hour behind.
A human hour or a Santa hour?
I blinked. Holy Bent Gargoyle toes. I have no idea. Let me ask.
“Ralphy...
“We have visitors, Phelps. It’s not good. They’re flying the Grinchie Flag.”
I expelled a breath. “Just frunkin’ great.” Tadpole. I’ll have to get back to you in a few minutes. We’re about to get Grinched.
The boat shaped green airship approached at a nerve-jangling speed, its curled bow piercing clouds in a direct path to the startled halfling and annoying elf in a sleigh. “Uh, Ralphy, are they going to crash into us?”
“It sure looks that way.” His stumpy fingers were moving quickly over the dials and buttons on the dash of the sleigh. A moment later the sleigh rolled into a turn that, I hoped, would take us out of the pathway of the Grinch’s airship. The reindeers’ long, bony legs stirred the air, the whites of their eyes showing as they ogled the approaching airship.
“Do you have supersonic speed on this thing?”
“We were already moving faster than sound, Phelps. I’m not sure I can pull much more out of this sleigh. It’s last year’s model.”
“Halt, please!”
Ralphy and I stilled as a familiar voice rang through the sky. The reindeer immediately dug in their heels and wrenched us to a stop.
“What the...?” I looked at Ralphy. “What would Mx. Claus be doing on the Grinch’s airship?”
Ralphy shrugged. “We’re about to find out.”
The ship stopped overhead, its wide, green belly opening to puke out a ladder, which dropped toward us at an alarming rate. I grabbed the last rung as it dropped toward my face, looking up into the rectangular door in the airship’s belly. “Who’s up there? Show yourself.”
A wide, rosy-cheeked face appeared in the opening. “Hello, Mx. Phelps.” Mx. Santa waved gaily, grinning as if we were meeting for tea and cookies in her North Pole apartments. “Come on up. We don’t have much time.”
Glancing at Ralphy, I lifted a brow.
He handed me a small vial and a cookie. “Go ahead, Phelps. I’ll be right behind you.”
Shoving the things he’d given me into my pocket, I reached for a rung and started to climb. The ladder swayed as I ascended, taking my queasy stomach on a ride with every swirl and dip. Above me, the strange looking airship belched bursts of air thick with silvery sparkles from the vents in its belly. I couldn’t shake the feeling that they’d hit the gas on the Grinch-blimp the moment I climbed through the hole above.
I wasn’t far wrong. A pudgy, soft fingered hand shot through and grabbed my arm as I neared the hole, yanking me inside. “Hit it,” Mx. Claus instructed whomever was driving. The ship shot forward, throwing me backward and to the ground, where I proceeded to bounce across the slick green floor on my bootocks.
I grimaced, climbing to my feet. Rubbing my behind, I frowned. “I think I broke my sacroiliac.
Mx. Claus patted my arm. “I’m so sorry, dear. I’m afraid time is of the essence. Shall we go to the control room?”
I followed her through the long interior of the thick-bodied ship. We passed through room after room filled with molded plastic furniture in bright colors. Although red and green featured predominantly in the color scheme of the ship, nowhere was there a single Christmas decoration or tree.
Unless you counted the life-sized poster of a beautifully decorated tree with pretty presents under it...and darts sticking out of its branches.
Mx. Claus shook her head at that, her shiny gray-blonde ringlets dancing perkily with the movement. “I can see I’ll have to have another talk with Grinchy.”
“What are we doing in the Grinch’s airship, Mx. Claus?”
She lifted a slim blonde eyebrow. “I’d think that would be obvious, Mx. Phelps.”
“I mean, I know we’re going to rescue Santa. But the Grinch created this mess, didn’t he? It seems like you’d want to stay as far away from him as possible.”
She shrugged plump shoulders. “Grinchy didn’t mean to cause Santa harm. He just can’t help himself when it comes to Christmas. I’m afraid he’s a Holiday Hater.”
We entered a large room filled with buttons, dials and levers. The entire front of the space was viewport, showing bright blue sky with frothy white trails where clouds flashed past. There were at least a dozen elves in that room, all of them turning, pushing or adjusting something.
The room smelled like sugar cookies.
My gaze caught on a large platter of the things, sitting on a table near the biggest Christmas tree I’d ever seen. The branches fell in vibrant green waves over several brightly colored packages. Walking over, I lifted the tag on one of them and grinned. It said, “To Grinchy, from Mx. and Santa Claus. Merry Christmas!”
I chuckled. When I looked at Mx. Claus she winked. “We’re almost there, dear. I’m afraid your sister is about to grab my dear Santa.”
“We need to get there first.”
She gave me a der look. “That is the idea, Mx. Phelps.”
I frowned, chewing nervously on my cheek as the sky flashed by in front of me. “What if we don’t get there before Darma grabs him?”
“I’ll do what’s necessary, dear.” She lowered a suddenly hard blue gaze on me. “You’d best make peace with that now, Mx. Phelps.”
I stared at the rosy cheeked Mother of Christmas turned scary predator and felt my stomach twist with nerves. In that moment I knew she wasn’t lying. She’d do whatever was necessary to save Santa. And I’d do whatever was necessary to save my sister. I shuffled my mental drawers. Tadpole?
Yes, Mother halfling?
Where are you?”
We’re over Hawaii. Darma just overtook Santa’s sleigh and I’m afraid it doesn’t look good. She has Santa in a choke hold.
Panic clawed my chest. I glanced toward Mx. Claus. Her soft, pudgy form and dimples no longer looked kind. I fully expected to see fangs when she opened her lips to speak to her elves.
Send me a picture, Tadpole. Hurry!
A moment later I was seeing what Glynus was seeing and she was right. It wasn’t good at all. Darma had Santa around the throat and was leading him toward the bright blue water of the ocean. I closed my eyes, said a little prayer, and sent myself to the place in Glynus’ vision.
My feet touched down into hot, moist sand and I stumbled forward. The roar of the surf was the only sound I heard, but magic prickled on the air as I shoved to my feet and started running. In the distance Darma stood with Santa in her grip, a blade held against his fleshy throat. A shout had me turning my head and Bob hurtled out of the darkness, flying at Darma. With a ninja type shriek, Bob landed on my sister’s back, his pudgy hands reaching for the knife.
I shot into movement, praying I would be in time to save Santa. My calves burned from running in the thick sand. The surf roared again, sending foamy waves to beat against the beach and pull at Darma’s legs.
Darma shrugged Bob off with very little trouble and he hit the sand with flailing limbs. She turned slowly toward me. I stopped dead in my tracks as her hard blue gaze seemed to shimmer in the moonlight.
Dread twisted painfully in my belly. “Darma, don’t do this. You need to fight the mask.”
She grinned. “You’re too late, Astra. This imposter needs to die.”
&nb
sp; I shook my head. “That’s not an imposter, Darma. You’re about to kill the real Santa.”
I scanned Santa a look and was shocked to see a sparkle in his small black eyes. Amazingly, he winked at me.
The man might as well tattoo the word Victim on his forehead.
Tadpole I need a distraction.
You got it. But there’s something you need to know...
The night erupted in a blood-curdling scream.
—there are more ninjas coming, Glynus finished.
I risked a glance toward the sound and swore as dozens of masked rodents hurtled down the beach toward us. The orange flame from the fiery torches they carried flashed across the shiny surfaces of their blades.
Now would be a good time for that distraction, Tadpole.
Yes, Mother halfling.
The sky exploded into flame, piercing downward from a blackened sky that I soon realized was the underbelly of dozens of dragons dropping toward the ground. The giant reptiles fired the ground between my sister and the approaching ninja elves, driving them back and holding them away from their evil...and cranky...leader.
The dragons circled the ninjas, sending sand flying into the air under the force of their fiery attack. The elves cringed together into a wad at the center of the circle. They lifted their blades, screeching in impotent rage as the dragons continued to encircle them in flame.
Something exploded behind me, reminding me I had another problem to deal with. I jerked around just as a geyser of sand blasted upward next to Darma. My gaze flew skyward, finding a blimp-like airship hovering overhead, the Grinch’s ugly mug painted on its side. Behind the glass of the wide viewport, Mx. Claus’s beady blue gaze was harder than flint as her hand slashed downward, ordering another blast that sent my sister and Santa flying through the air. Santa tucked and rolled and started to run. Unfortunately, he wasn’t fast enough. Darma lifted her hand and energy sizzled in her palm.
That was when I realized she was far enough away from Santa to be vulnerable.
I looked up into a hard pair of determined blue eyes.
As I shook my head, Mx. Claus lifted a pudgy arm and shoved it downward. Blue energy spun beneath the ship and I saw my sister’s death as it started to flare downward.