Holly North

by Emma Savant

  “You wouldn’t be patient either if you were still trapped at Santa’s Workshop,” I said. I lowered my voice. “They’ve blamed the elf I was with for you getting in, like I planned, but I don’t know how long that excuse is going to hold up. I need to get out of here before Santa works out what really happened. You need to come get me.”

  Frost smirked, his thin lips and eyebrows arching up together in an expression that made my fingers twitch with the desire to punch his smug little face. He looked like a rat, but that seemed like an insults to rats because I’d met more than one of those and found them twice as smart and ten times as likable as the frost prince.

  “I have no intention of going anywhere near the old man,” Frost said.

  He lifted his hand, and I saw that he was clutching the pole. The fire and lightning in the bulb seemed brighter, and they flashed with a frantic energy I hadn’t seen before.

  I gritted my teeth.

  “You promised you’d get me out of here.”

  “And I will,” he said. He lowered the pole. “Goodness, you’re a fussy little human. I keep my promises, Miss North. But I’m not coming to get you. You need to come to me.”

  “I can’t leave the dome,” I said.

  “I think you’ll find you can,” he said. “On the western edge of the Workshop, the ground gives way rather suddenly to the sea. Go tomorrow night at eleven o’ clock to the westernmost point of the snowflake. You did notice the building is shaped like a snowflake, didn’t you? It’s horribly twee. An ice floe will be there to pick you up. Don’t be late.”

  “I’m not stepping onto an ice floe in the middle of the night,” I said. “Are you insane?”

  “So they accuse me.” He flashed his delicate eyebrows, and I couldn’t tell if he was mocking me. “If you want to go home, that’s your only way out. Take it or stay there until the old man figures out you’re the traitor in his midst. It doesn’t matter to me.”

  A noise sounded behind him. He glanced away from me, and an irritated expression crossed his face.

  “With power comes a great many people wanting things, did you know that?” he said to me, sounding bored with his newfound omnipotence. “Just watch, the vampires will be kicking down my door in another day or two asking for favors, and then I’ll find myself quite busy. If you want things, Miss North, you’d best get on that floe before I run out of time for you.”

  He lifted a pale blue finger towards me as though he were going to reach through the mirror. Patterns of white frost crept across the mirror’s surface, and then it rippled like a pond and stilled to show only my own pale face staring back at me.

  Chapter 22

  I pressed my nose up against Donner’s. He snuffled softly and blew hot air on my face.

  “You have reindeer breath,” I murmured.

  He blinked slowly, and I scratched the top of his head.

  I would miss them. If Frost took me home, if Santa took me home, if I ended up freezing to death tonight—it didn’t matter. I’d miss every last reindeer no matter how I left them.

  I buried my finger in Donner’s fur and tried to relax into his steady warmth.

  The stable door opened. I looked up to see Joy, her cloud of red hair tamed into a messy bun on top of her head. Ringlets fell down onto her cheeks, but they weren’t quite enough to soften the anxiety on her face.

  “Hey,” she said softly.

  “Come on in.”

  She stopped on her way over to scratch the reindeer. I was pretty sure by this point that it was impossible not to at least pat someone’s nose while in this room. Comet leaned into her touch with closed eyes, chuffing in happiness.

  “I didn’t see you at dinner,” Joy said. She bit her lip. “Is everything okay? Everyone’s talking.”

  “About the power outage yesterday?”

  She nodded. No one besides the people who’d been there last night knew exactly what had happened, and the Clauses had sworn the rest of us to secrecy.

  Felix had objected, saying that everyone had their suspicions anyway and deserved to know, but Santa and Noelle had shut him down within seconds. Noelle had hissed something about causing a mass hysteria and Santa had crossed his arms and agreed that things were better kept quiet, and, while I knew Felix disagreed, I also knew he wouldn’t break Santa’s confidence no matter what he thought of it.

  “Everything’s okay,” I said. “Comet here just kept throwing tantrums when I tried to leave, and I had a big lunch anyway.”

  She smiled sheepishly. “I guess everyone’s a little on edge.”

  “Everyone gets on edge every time the power goes out,” I said. “All you magical people ever consider that electricity is just going to be spotty up at the North Pole?”

  I laughed, and was amazed at how easy it was to pretend that everything was normal and we were all safe.

  Here, in the warm dark stable with the reindeer and one of the most unexpected friends I’d ever had, it was hard not to feel like everything would be okay in the end.

  I felt a sudden surge of gratitude for Joy’s friendship, and Felix’s, and Lucy’s and Nate’s and everyone else’s. I’d worked and eaten with and talked to so many elves since I’d arrived.

  I wasn’t going to be lifelong friends with most of them. I probably wasn’t going to see any of them again after I left the North Pole—however that happened. But they felt like real friends, and that was something I hadn’t experienced in a while.

  “Thanks for checking on me.”

  She dug into her pocket. “That’s not all I did,” she said, pulling out something wrapped in a napkin. She pulled back the wrapping to reveal a slightly crumbly sugar cookie topped with raspberry frosting.

  “Aww.” I accepted the cookie, took a bite, and then snatched away from Donner before he could steal it.

  Joy burst into giggles. I tapped Donner on the nose. He blinked and looked casually away from me.

  “They’re so spoiled,” Joy said.

  “I wish my cats had a stable like this.” I picked off a small crumble of cookie and fed it to Donner, who inhaled it and started nosing at my shoulder for more.

  “You have cats?”

  “Not mine,” I said. “Just strays. I feed them but there’s never enough food or love to go around.”

  Joy’s forehead wrinkled just slightly. “Strays?”

  “Yeah, stray cats,” I said. Her face stayed confused. “Like, cats that don’t have homes or families. They live on the streets and eat mice or whatever they can hunt.”

  She looked like she was about to cry at the thought. I patted her arm.

  “Hey, it’s okay,” I said. “Our worlds are different, remember? The cats are used to it.”

  “We don’t have stray animals at the North Pole,” she said, which I’d already guessed. “How horrible.”

  I couldn’t imagine what it would have been like to grow up here, secure in the knowledge that all cats had warm laps and Santa would always be there to save the day. Joy’s naiveté had surprised me more than once, but I envied the way she saw the world.

  I had to do my part to help Santa keep them safe and protected. The Workshop was strange and overly cheery, but it didn’t annoy me anymore. It was unique, and amazing, and I would feel better if I went home knowing it was safe.

  If I went home.

  The word had crept into my thoughts more and more lately. I smiled at Joy and scratched Donner’s head.

  Had I really missed home all that much? Had I really left anything behind that I couldn’t recreate here—and in a way that would be brighter and better?

  It was a dizzying thought, the idea of staying here, but it wasn’t a thought I could even explore until the Workshop was safe from Frost.

  Reluctantly, I pulled my hand away from Donner’s thick fur.

  “I’ve got to go,” I said. “Felix is teaching me how to mix reindeer feed in the kitchens. I guess he talked the cooks into giving him an hour or two. I thought they just ate hay, but whatever.�
��

  “The feed gives them more nutrients than the hay can provide,” Joy said. “Felix takes it really seriously.”

  “Felix takes nothing seriously,” I said.

  She laughed, and I wrapped up the cookie, and we parted ways in the hall.

  The reindeer had to stay warm and dry. Joy had to stay in her world of sugar cookies and happy endings. And I had to do everything in my power to keep them all safe.

  Chapter 23

  I’d never been to Santa’s office before, but it was everything I would have guessed. Glistening built-in bookcases, crimson curtains, a thick rug, and a brightly crackling fireplace all combined to give the room a look of supreme coziness and security.

  Santa looked neither cozy nor secure. He sat at a polished desk with his spectacles perched on the bridge of his nose and had the posture of someone about to singlehandedly storm a castle.

  Noelle stood opposite him, her clipboard wrapped against her chest and an equally intense look on her face. She narrowed her eyes as I came in.

  What was her problem? And what was with the clipboard? It wasn’t like we wouldn’t all take her perfectly seriously without it.

  I stepped into the room and closed the door behind me. Suspicion was beginning to gnaw at me every time I saw Noelle. She had as much authority as anyone in the North Pole apart from the Clauses, so far as I could figure, and she had none of the cheery optimism of the rest of them. If anyone was going to let Frost into the North Pole—but no, I couldn’t think like that.

  Santa trusted her. I had to trust her, too.

  “Have a seat,” Santa said to me. He turned to Noelle. “Thank you for the suggestions,” he said. “I’ll leave it in your hands.”

  We both watched as she nodded sharply and walked out.

  I sank into a red armchair. Santa tapped a candy cane rapidly against his desk, thinking, and then pulled something out of a drawer.

  “You’ve never used magic, right?”

  “I don’t think so,” I said. “Unless you count the mirror from last night.”

  He nodded, more to himself than to me, and held up a small gold chain with something dangling on the end. I leaned closer and squinted my eyes. It was a Christmas ornament, a tiny blue bulb pendant that caught the firelight.

  “That’s magic?”

  I hadn’t said goodbye to the reindeer, I realized abruptly. What if I didn’t get another chance?

  I swallowed and focused on the pendant.

  “It’s a charm,” Santa said. “You’ll wear it when you go to meet Frost. It will protect you a little from his power, or at least that’s our hope.”

  “Your hope.”

  “Frost is powerful now that he has the pole,” Santa said. “This is the best we can do.”

  It was more than I would have on my own. I nodded.

  “It will let you freeze him, too, if you have to,” Santa said.

  I raised an eyebrow. “Might be better to have something that will let me melt him.”

  He stood up with a soft groan and walked out from behind the desk. “He’d sense anything like that a mile off if it came from my magic. This is like his magic.”

  “It’s like his magic?”

  “It’s like music. He’d notice a wrong note. He’s not likely to notice this.”

  He handed me the amulet. The gold chain felt like almost nothing against my skin, but the bulb was cool and heavy for its size. Santa nodded to me, and I put the necklace on.

  “If you need to freeze him, you’ll squeeze the bulb in your palm and focus the energy at him.”

  I held the pendant up. It looked ordinary, like Christmas jewelry I might find at the mall.

  “How do I focus energy at someone?”

  “You’ll understand instinctively if it comes to that,” Santa said. “It’s no different than focusing attention. I made it foolproof.”

  “Glad you think I’m a fool,”

  Santa reddened a little and opened his mouth before he realized I’d been teasing. He hooked his thumbs under his suspenders and scowled a little at me.

  “Just trying to lighten the mood,” I said. “Don’t worry, I’ll figure it out. And I’ll keep him distracted long enough for you to get in and do—whatever you’re going to do.”

  I wasn’t clear on that part. All I knew was that my job was to lead Santa to Frost and maybe keep Frost talking.

  Then, Santa had said, I was supposed to get out of the way.

  He walked to the window and looked out. I knew he’d put all sorts of protective magic all over the North Pole to shield us, but I couldn’t help feeling like every window was a threat—an opportunity for Frost to look in.

  “Frost will try to freeze you solid if he catches you helping me,” Santa said. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

  “I already said I’d help.”

  What I hadn’t said was that I had nothing to do but help, that my life was not so full of loved ones and meaning that I’d be missed if I didn’t walk out of this. I hadn’t said that I might as well spend my time helping him, because I wasn’t doing anything else that mattered with the time. I hadn’t said that I would rather risk my life than one of the elves’ lives, because they all had someone to live for and a job that meant protecting the world and, what the heck, bringing happiness to the children of the world.

  I was just Holly. No one had ever expected much of me, and they wouldn’t miss me if I was gone.

  If I walked away from Frost in one piece, though, maybe I could make a fresh start. The city under the dome wasn’t enormous, but maybe it was big enough to fit just one more person, even if she was a Humdrum with no particular talents.

  I tucked the pendant under my sweater. The bulb stayed cool, but it warmed me anyway. I might be going in alone, but it felt nice to think I wouldn’t be defenseless.

  Santa sighed deeply, and my stomach began to churn.

  “Are you ready?” he said.

  “Of course not,” I said.

  I stood and wrapped my arms around myself.

  Someone knocked rapidly on the door. Santa waved a hand, and the door, across the room, clicked open.

  Felix burst in with a bundle of red fabric in his arms. He scanned the room and his antsy face relaxed when he saw me.

  “I thought I’d missed you,” he said. “Mary sent you a coat. She filled it with phoenix down. Coziest there is. It’s going to be cold out there.”

  I took the coat from him. Even balled up like this, it was as warm in my arms as one of the reindeer.

  “Thank you.”

  “There’s an enchanted lighter in the pocket,” Felix said. “Same kind we all use to start our fires without kindling. Just in case it’s too cold for you.”

  I laughed. I wasn’t ignorant enough to think an enchanted lighter would do anything against Frost, but it was a nice thought, and a nice way to show he cared.

  “Good idea,” I lied, and Felix pretended to smile.

  He didn’t have high hopes, I realized, and neither did Santa.

  I balled my hands into fists. It didn’t matter.

  We only had one path forward.

  “What was Noelle here for?” I said.

  “She had some ideas on tightening security around the Workshop,” Santa said. “Just in case Frost uses your departure as a way to get back in.”

  “You think he’s going to want back in now that he has the pole?” Felix said.

  Santa shrugged but didn’t answer.

  I slipped the red coat on and zipped it up. The heat was instant and went clear to my bones.

  The grandfather clock in the corner of Santa’s office read a quarter to eleven.

  “I’d better go.”

  Santa held out a hand. I shook it. His palm was warm and his grip was as steady as my knees were weak.

  “I’ll be right behind you,” he said. “The mechanics tell me they’ve got the sleigh up and running. This will be a good test run.”

  I walked with Felix out of Santa’s
office and down to the westernmost end of the Workshop.

  Frost had chosen this spot well. This corridor was almost deserted at this hour, and there was an emergency exit at the end of the hallway that led outside.

  I stopped far from it and took a deep breath. I was glad I hadn’t eaten much besides the cookie Joy had brought me. My stomach felt like it was about to turn itself inside out.

  “Don’t be scared,” Felix said. “Santa will be right behind you. You just need to keep Frost distracted for a few minutes so he won’t notice Santa coming after him.”

  “What if Santa tries to take the pole while I’m still on the ice floe?” I said. “I don’t know where Frost’s going to take me. I don’t even know if he’s going to take me anywhere. For all I know, his entire plan is to shove me off the floe and let me freeze and drown.”

  Felix nudged my arm.

  “That’s what the coat’s for,” he said. “It’ll keep you warm even in the water. I mean, your toes might fall off, but the essentials will be all right.”

  “Gee, thanks,” I said.

  He held up a fist, and I bumped it with mine.

  “You’re going to be okay, Holly,” he said.

  I wished I felt as sure. Nothing about this felt safe or wise.

  What it did feel was unavoidable.

  I squared my shoulders.

  Felix slipped away down the hallway, and I strode toward the door and out into the dark Arctic night.

  Chapter 24

  I stood on the edge of the floating ice that held the Workshop. In front of me, black waves churned out toward the horizon. There was no Aurora Borealis tonight, though thousands upon thousands of stars winked in the darkness.

  The air was cool but comfortable, in the strange way I’d come to expect under the dome. Beneath my coat, I felt toasty and protected, but I could only guess how long that would last once I left the barrier’s protection.

  In the distance, a small blob of white appeared on the horizon. It floated toward me, faster than it should have in the water’s currents, and after a few moments a floe just large enough for two or three people to stand on bumped gently against the ice beneath my feet. I shivered in a way that had nothing to do with the temperature.