“You’ll have to excuse me if I don’t swoon at his gigantic boots.” With a huff, Donner headed out the door with Cupid at his heels.
“Donner, about tomorrow…”
Plum pudding. Please don’t say it. Please don’t say it.
“I would really appreciate it if you would be here for my training. Blitzen has some repairs he needs to make to his biplane, and I could use the help.”
“Me?”
The last thing Donner wanted was to spend any more time around that brute, but how could he say no to his dear friend? Besides, if it was just the three of them, no one would see him spending so much time with a Dockalfar. After all, Donner had a reputation to maintain. North Pole City was overrun with gossips.
Cupid’s big blue eyes watched him closely as he waited for Donner’s reply.
“Yes, of course I’ll be here.” Donner held up his book. “There’s no shortage of books in Jack’s library. I can read while you two do whatever it is you’ve been doing.”
“Magic,” Cupid said excitedly.
“You mean dark magic.” Donner hadn’t meant to sound so harsh when he’d said it. His friend’s smile fell. Plum pudding. “But in your hands, I bet you do good things.”
Cupid’s bright smile returned, and he nodded as he followed Donner through the corridor. “Calder has been teaching me how to use our magic for good. Just because it’s dark magic doesn’t mean the wielder must use it to do bad things. For instance, Calder is teaching me how to manipulate light.” He waved a hand and the flames in the wall sconce to their right went out.
Donner stopped in his tracks, a lump forming in his throat. “Please don’t do that.”
“Oh. I’m sorry,” Cupid said sincerely, his expression troubled. “You don’t need to be afraid.”
Donner frowned at him. “Afraid? Who said I was afraid? Afraid of what?”
“Of the magic. Calder’s been teaching me all sorts, but especially how to control it.”
“Well, then, I expect him to know what he’s doing.” Just what he needed, to be spending time with a Dockalfar who wielded great darkness. Sounded like a jolly old time.
Chapter 2
The North Pole was in a tizzy.
Was it the upcoming marriage of Jack Frost to his beloved Rudy Rein Dear that had North Pole City and neighboring Winter Wonderland in such a frenzied state?
No.
Had the Mouse King or his underlings somehow escaped their icy prison cells in the Mountain Fortress to wreak havoc and destruction upon the land?
No.
All the fuss was due to the displacement of one elf. Sadly, Calder was that elf.
Calder’s frown deepened, and his nearly black eyes narrowed. Quiet gasps and murmurs met his ears. This was all getting to be a tad ridiculous. With a sigh, he finished his mulled wine, then stood. The place stilled. Every Christmas elf and sugarplum fairy in the tavern held their breaths, wide eyes on him. What exactly did they believe he was going to do to them? If he’d wanted to do whatever it was they believed, he would have done so by now.
He stretched his arms over his head, the wide breadth of his solid chest expanding with his deep breaths. His back ached from being hunched over the small table, and the muscles in his arms and legs were faring no better. His backside just about fit in the wooden chair that was too close to the floor for his great height. It forced his knees into a somewhat uncomfortable angle. For breakfast, it had taken four meals to satisfy him, the portions far too small for him to get his fill with one alone. Why were Christmas elves so blasted small? His boots alone probably weighed more than any elf in this room.
Then there was the staring. By now he’d grown accustomed to it, but he still disliked it. Greatly. It wasn’t their fault. They had every right to fear him and even loathe him. Christmas elves were loving and kindhearted by nature, but even they were not so good as to forget or forgive such vileness inflicted upon them. Every enchanted creature had its limit, and the Dockalfar had pushed Christmas elves over theirs some time ago. In their eyes, Calder might as well have struck the blow himself. The thought made him feel sick to his stomach.
Regardless, he smiled warmly and gave them a little salute before heading for the door. The tiny bell above it jingled, and Calder didn’t move out of the way quickly enough. A Christmas elf ran into him, bounced off, and landed on the snowy sidewalk. He stared up, and up, and up, at Calder.
“Eeep!”
The poor fellow scrambled to his feet and darted down the street as if someone had set fire to his striped stockings. Calder shook his head. Perhaps this wasn’t such a good idea. Knowing the elves of North Pole City would fear him was one thing. Coming face to face with that fear was another. Unlike most Dockalfar elves, Calder did not wish to be feared. In fact, from a very early age, all he’d wanted was to be loved. It sounded rather silly to his own ears, but it was the truth. Not that it mattered. Love was a gift he would never be entrusted with. For one, Dockalfar males did not couple with other Dockalfar males, and what creature outside of his own kind could possibly love him? Hundreds of years on this earth had proven it, and so he’d resigned himself to a life without love. Instead, he tried to find joy in other ways.
By the time Calder had checked in to the Pine Needle Inn, rumors of him being in North Pole City had spread like jelly on toast. Not one cranny of the city had been left uncovered. Everyone knew he was here, and those who didn’t come to see for themselves stared or gaped whenever they saw him. Some didn’t bother, too scared to wait around to see if he was going to turn them into frogs or snap his fingers and make them disappear in a burst of black smoke. He was, after all, brother to the Dockalfar who had tricked Major Hollis Frost into using black magic on Rudy Rein Dear’s plane, nearly ending the beloved pilot’s immortal life.
Calder of the Dockalfar was a giant among elves, wicked, dangerous, and not to be trusted. His kind was deplorable, and at times Calder agreed. The Dockalfar had started the Frost War hundreds of years ago, and as a fierce warrior, Calder had had little choice but to fight. Much to his relief, his strength and skill landed him a position fighting the monstrous ice beasts conjured by the King of Frost rather than the toy soldiers. No lives were taken by Calder during the war. None of that mattered. The Dockalfar had slaughtered the Queen of Frost.
Calder swallowed hard. He deserved their distrust, their anger, their loathing. Yet as he walked down the snow-covered street, he did his best to smile and lose himself in his surroundings. North Pole City was truly extraordinary. The twinkling lights that decorated the beautifully ornate shop fronts sparkled like tiny stars. More of the same lights draped from lamppost to lamppost on both sides of the street, forming a glittering path of enchantment. The snow was always white and pure. Sumptuous scents teased his nostrils—vanilla, roasted chestnuts, freshly baked cookies, and cinnamon. His senses were alive with wonder. In the distance, he heard the merry jingling of bells from the sleighs transporting elves about town. A door opened from a shop close by, and the melodious sound of carols lightened his heart. He loved music.
With a silly grin, he hurried over to the shop. Oh, and what a shop! It was filled with tantalizing treats. Music and anything sweet was not permitted back home. It hadn’t kept his mother—bless her soul—from spoiling him rotten with delicious cakes and cookies. His father would scowl and remind her how such things were frowned upon, but he could never deny her. His father was many things, most exceedingly frightful, but he had loved Calder’s mother fiercely.
Mindful of the low door, Calder entered the shop. He had never seen so many colors.
“Hello,” Calder said pleasantly.
The gray-haired sugarplum fairy behind the glass counter gasped and took a step back, fear in her wide silver eyes. Calder did his best to appear friendly, which was no small feat, considering his size. He remained still, so as not to knock over anything with his sword’s scabbard, which hung from the wide leather belt fastened around his waist.
“I would like to purchase
a box of your delicious goods.” He read the fairy’s name embroidered on her colorful apron. “Honey Blossom. That’s a beautiful name.”
“Th-Thank you. Are you…? You’re Cupid’s brother.”
“Yes.” Calder smiled brightly as he surveyed the many delicacies. There were small cakes, cookies, pastries, some with fruit, others with cream, all clearly made with love. “I’m here visiting him. I saw your lovely treats, and my brother has such a sweet tooth.” Not to say anything of his own. “He’ll love these.”
Honey Blossom nodded and quickly went about preparing a pretty red-and-white-striped box. She was nervous, and her tiny hands shook. Calder pretended not to notice.
“Which would you like?” she asked, her voice unsteady.
“I’ll take a dozen. Whatever you choose will be fine.” Then he noticed a pretty cupcake with lavender frosting and a glittering purple star nestled on top. It reminded him of Donner’s eyes. Violet eyes were rare among elves, especially Christmas elves. “I’ll take that lovely purple delight as well.”
“Of course.”
Calder looked around the shop, hoping it might help the fairy feel less anxious. It would be a terrible shame if she dropped one of those scrumptious cakes on the floor. When she was done, she cleared her throat. He turned to her with a smile.
“Thank you.” He reached for his belt and the coin purse holding his gold pieces. Honey Blossom let out a squeak. “It’s all right,” he assured her. “I only wish to pay for the goods.” Her eyes went wide, as if he’d suggested something nefarious.
“Oh no, please. No payment needed.”
Calder frowned. “Nonsense. I’m certain you work very hard at your craft.” He removed two gold pieces from his purse, then placed them on the counter. She shook her head vigorously.
“That’s far too much.”
“Very well.” He returned one of the pieces to his pouch. She was about to say something else when the bell above the door jingled. Calder took his box, wrapped beautifully in a big red bow, and then he turned. Five Christmas elves stood in his path. He motioned toward the door.
“Excuse me.”
One of the taller elves—who still only reached Calder’s chest—stepped forward. His fists shook, but he looked determined.
“You’re not welcome here, Dockalfar.”
“Calder. My name is Calder.”
“We don’t care who you are,” the elf replied with a huff. “You should go home to your own kind.”
Poor fellow. Calder could tell he was trying to be intimidating. He came off as more of an angry bunny, twitching ears and all. “And I will, once my visit has ended.” Calder took a step forward, and as expected, they all took several steps back.
“Go home,” another elf squeaked.
Calder let out a heavy sigh. “I will, but I made a promise to my brother Cupid and Mayor Kringle.”
At the mention of Mayor Kringle, their eyes widened, and they fled from the shop. With a chuckle, Calder left. He figured that would do the trick. Mayor Kringle was the very spirit of Christmas. The last thing any Christmas elf wanted to do was upset him.
The walk to Jack Frost’s palace in North Pole City was refreshing. Calder enjoyed walking. He was never in much of a hurry, preferring to admire the beauty of the world around him. Jack’s palace was at the far end of the city, and beyond it lay miles and miles of forests and snowy fields. The palace itself was a glorious testament to the Prince of Frost. Calder had never seen such opulence. He could only imagine what the King of Frost’s palace looked like. Calder had heard stories of its magnificence, but he’d never set foot in Winter Wonderland. The laws set forth in the treaty created by the King of Frost and signed by the Council of the Dockalfar, including Calder’s father, Bard, prevented him. It saddened him that such a treaty existed, but he understood.
The guards knew who he was even from a distance. The first day they had surrounded him with their weapons. It had been awkward, to say the least.
Cupid’s lessons were going better than expected. He was a natural at wielding his magic, and with his faery mother’s traits, using his magic for good came naturally to Cupid. Being of pure Dockalfar blood, it was not in Calder’s nature to use his magic for good, but Calder refused to be a pawn of his powers or his people.
Was he heading down the right corridor? This palace was so blasted big, and every corridor looked the same to him. All silver-and-white marble with grand arches. The décor was silver, white, and pale blue except for the occasional splash of color. Calder would guess the bouquets of fiery red flowers were Rudy’s influence.
Where could Cupid be? In the kitchen, pilfering treats from the cook? The library? No, that was where Donner would most likely be. The elf perplexed him.
A haunting melody of a violin met his ears, and he stopped in his tracks. What an incredibly beautiful yet melancholy sound. The notes called to him, taking hold of his body and propelling him to move forward as if by some ethereal force. He followed the melody until he found a large, intricately decorated music room filled with all manner of instruments. By the window, a familiar figure sat playing an ornate violin. It was Donner.
Calder remained exceptionally still, not wanting to alert Donner to his presence and stop him from creating such wondrous sounds. The music slowed before picking up, and Donner’s eyes were closed as he moved the bow across the strings. His brows were drawn together as he played, but he appeared to be immersed in the music. He sat with his ankles crossed, his back slightly arched, and his lips parted. Calder had never seen anything more beautiful. Donner’s hair was as black as the darkest night, his eyes a radiant violet the likes of which Calder had never seen. His skin was fair, a sharp contrast to Calder’s own charcoal gray complexion. Donner seemed to be the opposite of Calder in every way, from his outward appearance, to the beauty he produced. Calder could never hope to conjure up such enchantment.
“There you are.”
Donner gave a start, the music screeching to a halt. His head shot up, and he stared wide-eyed at Calder.
With a sigh, Calder turned to frown at Jack. “That was very rude.”
Jack gaped at him before seeming to shake himself out of it. “A Dockalfar calling me rude? Well, now I’ve heard everything. You’re here to help Cupid with his powers, not supervise Donner’s recital. Move along.”
With a roll of his eyes, Calder followed Jack Frost out of the room, though not before turning back to Donner, who sat in silence, his violin on his lap. “That was beautiful.”
“Thank you,” Donner replied, his cheeks flushed.
“I would very much like to hear more sometime.”
Donner nodded.
With a bright smile, Calder bowed his head, then left the room, following an impatient Jack down the corridor. Quite frankly, he was surprised to see the Prince of Frost.
“Shouldn’t you be preparing for your wedding?” Calder asked, amused at the way Jack narrowed his eyes.
“If one more elf shoves another color palette at me, I’m going to lose my bloody mind.”
Calder chuckled. He could just imagine Jack Frost surrounded by dozens of Christmas elves, all vying for his attention, asking questions about flower arrangements, rehearsals, seating layouts, and the hundreds of other decisions requiring his input. Astonishingly the Prince of Frost hadn’t lost it, brought on a blizzard, or snowed them all in. Jack wasn’t exactly the most patient of winter spirits.
“I’m sure Rudy appreciates your efforts.”
Jack came to a halt, forcing Calder to do the same. Had he said something wrong? Jack turned to him, eyes frosting over as he drew closer. His pitch-black hair drained itself of color, turning white from the roots to the tips, and his voice was a low growl when he spoke.
“You do not speak his name, Dockalfar. Not after what your brother did.”
Calder frowned at Jack. “Correct. After what my brother did. His actions are his alone. I had nothing to do with it.”
“Let’s get one thi
ng straight. I am merely tolerating your presence here out of respect for Mayor Kringle. However,” Jack spat as he held one hand to his side, causing a blustering winter wind to sweep around Calder, its chill seeping into his bones. “You hurt anyone I care about, and not even Kringle will be able to save you from my wrath.”
The ice prickled Calder’s skin, and despite Jack’s somewhat smaller stature compared to his own, he knew his magic could not rival that of the Prince of Frost, especially when the prince could summon the King of Frost’s power should he wish.
“I suppose all I can do is show you I mean no harm to you or anyone else. I am not my brother nor am I defined by my Dockalfar blood. In time, I hope you will come to see that for yourself.”
The wind and ice vanished as if never summoned, and Jack’s hair and eyes returned to their former colors.
“I trust you won’t remain here long enough. Finish Cupid’s training, and go back to your kind. The treaty between our kingdoms ensures peace for the sake of our people. It doesn’t change what you are or what I think of you. Cupid is in the room at the far end.”
With that, Jack stormed down the corridor in the opposite direction.
Well, that was… enlightening.
Calder continued down the corridor until he found the room in question. Cupid was inside, concentrating exceptionally hard on pushing a cup across the small round table with his powers. Every time he moved his finger, the cup fell over. With a smile, Calder walked over and set the cup upright again.
“Stop trying to push it, and instead allow your powers to surround it and glide it forward.”
Cupid bit down on his bottom lip and held his hand out before the cup, his gaze focused. A small black trail of smoke left his hand. It encircled the intricate little teacup and gently pulled. The teacup moved.
“I did it!” Cupid bounced excitedly.
“Wonderful! Soon you’ll be able to do it with larger objects and then living creatures.” The moment Calder put the box of sweets down, Cupid’s eyes widened, his mouth all but watering. Calder held a hand up with a chuckle. “These treats are for after you’ve practiced.”
North Pole City Tales: Complete Series Page 32