The Master

by Melanie Jackson

  Chapter Nine

  Breakfast disappeared very quickly, which Nick took as a compliment, though it might have also been due to the small portions. Though it disturbed him, he made no objection when the children rounded out the meal with a handful of dog cookies.

  “Is it time yet?” Gretel asked again, eyeing the stockings and packages piled in the center of the table. “I want to open the Christmas socks.”

  Feeling oddly excited, Nick put the communal dish from which the children had dined into the pan of snowmelt warming by the fire, then announced that it was finally time to open their presents. He had just gotten up and gone to the table when Zee said: “Wait!”

  She said something to the children in their native tongue, and they got up, too. Gretel giggled. All three of them headed for the door.

  “What—?”

  “Close your eyes, Nick. The elf brought something for you, too.”

  He stared at Zee, feeling stupid and also puzzled. Santa had come? But how? When?

  “Zee . . .” he began, feeling sudden concern that if there was a package on the porch it might be something dangerous left by her cultist cousins. After all, it couldn’t really be from Santa. “Look, I don’t think that—”

  “Nick!” she pleaded. “Close your eyes. Trust me.”

  “Okay.” Baffled and a bit nervous, he did as she asked. The door opened and there was more giggling, followed by a scraping sound. Zee was whispering instructions. The door closed with a small slam.

  Suddenly, the air was filled with the smell of fresh-cut pine. There was more scraping in the corner of the room and then Zee said: “Open your eyes!”

  Nick turned and faced Zee. She and the children were standing beside a scraggly pine tied with tattered plastic ribbons and propped crookedly in the corner, where it appeared to have grown out of the floor. It looked terrible, something too sorry even for Charlie Brown—but it was still the loveliest tree he’d ever seen.

  Touched to near speechlessness, Nick approached the trio and their Christmas offering. It took some stooping and stretching, but he managed to enclose all of them in a hug.

  “Thank you,” he said quietly. “That is the best gift I’ve ever received. Really, it’s the best Christmas ever.”

  Delighted, the children began to laugh. “Zee found it on the porch! She said it was for you.”

  “It won’t stand up straight,” Zee apologized, trying to adjust the stunted pine.

  “That’s okay. It doesn’t need to,” Nick assured her. “It’s perfect as it is.”

  “Our turn now!” Hansel said, beginning to wiggle. “I want Christmas, too.”

  Nick spent another moment looking into Zee’s dark eyes, then he dropped his arms and said, “Okay, let’s see what Santa left for all of you.”

  The toys were a huge hit and required lengthy discussions about proper usage. Nick was patient while he explained everything, but he was secretly itching for Zee to open her gift.

  She, however, was as fascinated as the children with the radio-control car and the bear with the elaborate wardrobe, telling Nick that her childhood had been as deprived of childish distractions as Hansel and Gretel’s. Nick couldn’t spoil the moment by taking her away from the fun.

  Eventually it was Zee’s turn to have her present. She handled the small box carefully, but Nick was ready to swear that she didn’t know it contained jewelry. That seemed very odd, because every female he had ever met—down to his niece, when she’d got a pearl ring at age six—knew what a jeweler’s box looked like, and behaved a little differently when given one.

  Zee carefully pulled off the tinsel and opened the lid.

  “Oh, Nick! How pretty! They look like stars. And they’re diamond—it’s just what I needed! How did your elf know?”

  Nick smiled a little, amused by the idea that Zee needed diamonds.

  “Let me see!” Gretel said, peering into the box.

  Then, with a change of tone that absolutely defined her as female: “Oh! I like that.”

  “They’re small but real,” he said, wondering if he sounded stupid stating the obvious. He decided to add a few other significant facts. “Diamonds are the hardest gemstones. They last forever. It’s why most people choose them for wedding rings. They endure while still being beautiful.” He didn’t add that they represented what true love should be. There were limits to his sappiness—or, at least, limits to what he would say aloud.

  Zee looked up, her eyes shining easily as brightly as the diamonds, which twinkled in their bed of white satin. “I like the pendant shape. It feels . . . happy. What does it signify?”

  “It is happy, because it is a heart,” Nick agreed. He was very pleased with her reaction. “Let me help you with the clasp. It can be tricky when you have long hair.”

  “Thank you,” Zee said, turning and lifting her hair away and exposing the lovely nape of her neck. He noticed what looked like a diamond tattoo, and wondered when she had gotten it. And if it had been voluntary. He thought about the other marks on her body and felt his gut twist. He had been distracted at the moment and not thinking, but the marks had been symmetrical. That meant they were deliberate.

  “Here.” Zee handed him the jewelry box over her shoulder. “Oh, let me take off my other pendant.”

  Nick’s hands threatened to shake, but he was stern with them. He carefully lifted out the gold chain and obediently freed its tiny clasp. He lowered the pendant around Zee’s neck and then carefully joined its two ends. He couldn’t resist dropping a quick kiss on her diamond tattoo. It was dumb, but he wanted to do something to make everything better for her.

  “There. You’re all set,” he said.

  “Thank you,” Zee responded, turning back to Nick and touching the pendant. It rested right above her heart. “It’s beautiful. I don’t know how the elf knew to choose it, but it’s perfect.”

  No, it’s not—but you are, Nick thought, though he managed to swallow the grossly sentimental reply before it reached his lips.

  “But what does it do?” Hansel asked, shattering the mood. “Does it have batteries? Can it fly?”

  “It doesn’t do anything,” Nick said. Then he added: “Except remind the wearer that someone cares about her. It’s something you contemplate.”

  “Oh.” Hansel shrugged. “I think the elf should have brought her another car. Then we could race.”

  “Can Miss Bear ride in your car?” Gretel asked, also losing interest in the necklace once it was on her sister.

  “She can ride on it,” Hansel said, going to fetch his car. “The only way she would fit inside is if we cut her head off.”

  “No,” Gretel shrieked, cradling the bear. Then she added: “Maybe later.”

  “Bloodthirsty, aren’t they?” Nick laughed. “But then, I used to melt my green army men with matches. I liked stretching them into new, humanly impossible positions.”

  Zee appeared to give the idea some thought. “I don’t think they are bloodthirsty—at least Gretel isn’t. That is part of our worry. I am not very cruel either. I think we disappointed mother. She wanted us to be mean and resourceful.”

  Nick was appalled. He prayed he’d never have to meet his future in-laws.

  “Don’t worry about not being mean,” he commanded. “You are better off not being cruel. Cruel people are never happy. And the children won’t need to learn how to be brutal. We’re going to take them somewhere safe and see to it that they have a good, protected life. Anyway, Christmas isn’t about dwelling on bad things. Today is for good things only.”

  “What is it about?” Zee asked. “I mean, at its heart. I haven’t been able to figure that out. You said it was about a birthday. At the mall, they had a giant banner that said Peace on Earth. I thought that was lovely.”

  “It is many things—and it means different things to different people at different times in their lives. They call it the season of miracles. Or the season of the spirit,” Nick answered. “But mostly, to me anyway, it’s about
love . . . and being honest enough to tell the truth about how you are feeling. And, Zee, I do care about you.”

  She nodded, but her smile dimmed slightly.

  “What’s wrong?” Nick asked. “Have I frightened you by rushing things? I wouldn’t normally have been so . . . It’s just that the circumstances are extraordinary. Please don’t be upset that I care.”

  “Nothing is wrong—not right now. But . . .” She trailed off. “Nick, there is something I need to tell you before you begin to care about me too much. And before you help the children and me.”

  “What is it?” he asked gently. “Don’t be afraid to tell me. Is it about your family?”

  “Yes—partly. You remember when I said we were lutin?”

  “Yes, lutins from Europe.”

  “My ancestors were from Europe—from France. Lutin is a French name. It means . . .” She took a deep breath. “It means goblin.”

  Nick blinked.

  “What?” He didn’t understand what she was saying. Lutin did mean goblin, but it could also be a name—couldn’t it?

  “The children and I are part goblin,” she said softly.

  “But you can’t be. Goblins are green and have four arms.” He knew that much from the news. Also, they weren’t considered human enough to study in medical school. They had their own doctors. Obviously, Zee was quite human.

  “Pure-blood goblins do. My mother was a goblin-cross. She was born in the Las Vegas hive. She ran away to marry our father, who was a human-fey hybrid. You know what this word signifies? Fey, I mean.”

  “Yes, it means to be psychic—to have the ability to prophesy.” His eyes dropped to her necklace. She had talked about needing a scrying stone. Did Zee think she was psychic? But that was just nonsense—superstition.

  No, it’s not, said the ghost in his head.

  I don’t believe in faeries and psychics and magical bullshit, Nick answered.

  But you believe in ghosts?

  That’s different, damn it! he argued. I have to believe in you; you’re following me.

  The voice inside his head just laughed. You have a lot to learn, and you’re going to have to learn quickly.

  “The power to prophesy,” Zee repeated. “That’s true. But it is also a word for faeries and elves—and other magical creatures.” She kept her voice low as she glanced over at the children. They were happily giving Miss Bear a ride on Hansel’s car.

  “Yes, I’ve heard that,” Nick said automatically. Everyone had. A decade ago, there had been an amendment to the Citizens with Disabilities Act, preventing discrimination against people who had fey blood. But he had never seen a fey, had never even known anyone who’d heard of anyone seeing a fey. Most people thought feys were just . . . well, fairy tales.

  His brain suddenly felt frozen. “I’ve never met a fey, though. No one I know has. They all died out in the drought, I thought.”

  “Not all. There aren’t very many left. They are endangered species and they keep away from humans,” Zee said. “But those who remain are strong, and their leader is Jack Frost—the Jack Frost. He lives in a faerie mound called Cadalach somewhere near here. That’s where the children and I need to go. We were headed there when the weather goblin sent that storm to intercept us.”

  “Weather goblin?” Nick pulled out a chair and sat down. He was feeling suddenly dizzy.

  “Or it might have been that creature at the mall,” Zee added. “I think—I can’t be sure—but I believe it was a hobgoblin. They can control the weather, too. I hope I’m wrong, though. I don’t want that thing following us.”

  “A hobgoblin?” Nick repeated.

  “Yes.” She finished with a rush: “And I could feel him trying to hypnotize the children at the mall. He wanted them. That’s really why we ran away. I don’t think Luz would have attacked us in town—but that hobgoblin could have. I had to get the children away.”

  “He wanted Hansel and Gretel?” Nick asked. He didn’t want to believe her, because such talk was insane, but her fear was palpable now, and he had no choice but to acknowledge that whatever had happened at the mall had frightened Zee badly. He might not believe in hobgoblins, but she did.

  “All the children, Nick.” Zee said again, “All the children. There were lots of them lined up to see him. He was pretending to be your good elf, Santa Claus. But he was eating up their thoughts, draining them.”

  The ghost had warned him that he needed to ask questions about the creature at the mall. He should have listened.

  This couldn’t be real.

  I’m afraid it can, the ghost answered.

  Nick met Zee’s gaze, sure that his own was as horrified.

  “If this is true, then we have to go to the police,” he said. “Right now. He has to be stopped.”

  “They won’t believe us. They’re like you. Most of them don’t believe in feys or hobgoblins. Anyway, I’m afraid that it’s too late,” Zee said. “I think that he was going to take them yesterday. All we can do is go to the fey. They have hunters. They’ll be able to get the children back. But we haven’t a lot of time— and I know someone is chasing us.”

  “Why don’t we have time?” Nick whispered, fearing her answer. “What is he going to do with those children?”

  Zee licked her lips, her eyes worried—perhaps for the children, perhaps because she feared she wouldn’t be believed.

  “I can’t explain how I know this—it must be the part of me that is also fey—but he means to sacrifice them on New Year’s Day. He’s going to kill them and blame it on goblins.”

  “What? Why?” Nick was barely able to get the questions past the sudden constriction of his throat. Visions of carnage swam in his brain. “Why kill innocent children?”

  “I think he wants to start a war,” Zee answered. “He wants humans to get angry enough to kill the goblins.”

  “But why?” Nick asked again. He had a second momentary vision of some creature—huge and dark—swinging a giant ax. The monster was covered in gore, but he kept swinging, grunting every time his blade encountered another head. Horror clogged Nick’s brain, dimmed his eyesight. What Zee was suggesting was a nightmare, but he no longer doubted her—not in his gut.

  “I don’t know why he’s doing this, or how he can even be,” Zee answered. “I don’t understand it at all. Hobgoblins are like a myth to us, something to terrify naughty children. The legend says that they were created by the first great goblin king of France—they were the lutins’ servants and the king’s bodyguards before they trained trolls. But the king had to kill them all because they were too violent and tried to overthrow him. I thought they were all dead. That’s what they taught us—that King Gofimbel and the Dark Faerie Queen executed them all.”

  She swallowed, then continued. “But this one isn’t dead. And he hates goblins. Humans, too. The rage in him was so terrible that I fainted in the parking lot. The children had to drag me away from the mall—away from his aura. It was as if I had breathed in his poison, his hate—and he saw me. Nick, he looked inside and he knew who and what I am. He knew about the children, too, and wanted them.”

  “What can we do?” Nick whispered to himself. “Can we defend ourselves against him?”

  You can take the girl to Cadalach, the ghost said. As soon as the snow melts enough for you to get away.

  You are suggesting that we run away to see faeries about a killer hobgoblin.

  You’ve got a better plan?

  No, he didn’t. Which was the problem. He believed Zee, and that she was right about going to the police. He couldn’t imagine trying to make them believe his story.

  Think of this as an adventure. It could be exciting.

  Yeah? Exciting? So are sky-diving and Russian roulette. It doesn’t mean I want to do either of those things.

  Well, you have to do something.

  Yeah, I know.

  Nick reached for Zee’s hands, folded them in his own and brought them up to his mouth, where he breathed over their chilled fl
esh. He rubbed her skin lightly, part of him marveling at its texture.

  “Don’t worry.” Nick looked into Zee’s eyes. They were different; beautiful, but not human—he could see that now. And it didn’t matter. “We’ll find your Jack Frost and we’ll stop this monster. Then I will take you and the children far away to someplace safe where no one bad will ever find you.”

  “I don’t know if anyplace is that far away,” Zee whispered.

  “There has to be. We’ll find it.”

  Chapter Ten

  As soon as he could, Nick slipped away from the others. He sat alone, listening to the car radio, waiting for the heater to drive back the cold. The reception was bad, but he heard enough to be assured that at least part of Zee’s story was absolutely true; the man playing Santa at the Desert View Mall had been murdered and had his costume stolen. It was believed that the imposter Santa had gone back into the mall and carried on with the murdered man’s job, seeing as many as two hundred children before closing time.

  Nick shivered as he listened to the announcer’s scratchy voice, thinking how close Hansel and Gretel had come to this killer. Zee, too.

  So what now? the ghost in the sideview mirror asked.

  I guess we’re going to see the faeries.

  Nick shuddered at the strange thought, and switched off the car engine. He didn’t like the plan, but the snow was melted enough to get back to the main road. Like it or not, it was time to leave. He took out his cell phone, hoping for a signal and that his battery wasn’t dead. It was time to break the news to his sister that he wouldn’t be coming this Christmas at all.

  His family took it better than he expected. Afterward, not having much in the way of possessions, it didn’t take long to load the children and Zee into the car. His Jag was overfilled with bodies and luggage even before Nick carried out his own duffel, but the clutter was strangely cheerful. The door of the cabin closed behind him with a clunk that sounded very final. He wasn’t superstitious, but Nick had the sense that this small haven was now shut to them. They had no choice but to go on.