by Sam Cheever
I pointed toward the round table near the bookshelves. “Come in. Sit down. Let me get you something hot to drink. We have hot chocolate, tea or coffee.”
“Hot chocolate, please,” the woman said in a soft, quivery voice.
“I’ll get it,” Sebille said, hurrying past.
“Thanks, Sebille.” I reached for my phone, finding it useless.
“Cell service is out,” Devard said from inches away.
I turned in surprise to find him right behind me.
He held up his phone. “I just tried to call over to the vapery to make sure they closed up and got out of there. The storm is building fast. It’s supposed to be a bad one.”
I worried my bottom lip with my teeth, wondering if I should send everyone home.
As if he’d read my mind, Grym said. “It’s probably safer for them here.”
“He’s right,” the man sitting at the table said. “It’s deadly out there. Visibility is horrible and the wind is brutal. The snow feels like tiny icicles falling from the sky.”
Bat’s boogers! I fought not to show my panic at his words. The last thing I was prepared for was an all-night sleepover party for a dozen of my most magically diverse…or averse…friends.
Sebille put two steaming mugs of hot chocolate in front of them. The delicious scent of rich chocolate filled the air, and I noted the tiny marshmallows floating across the surface of the decadent chocolate with a smile.
“Thank you so much,” the woman breathed, holding her mug in two hands and sipping it with obvious pleasure. “That tastes wonderful.”
“Would you like some food?” I asked. “We have lots.”
They shook their heads. “No, but thank you,” the man said. “This is perfect for now. Please, don’t let us keep you from your party.”
“It’s fine,” I told them. “You’re my guests too.” I gave them a smile that I hoped was welcoming. They seemed to relax.
Grym sat down at the table with them. “Where were you heading before you slid off the road?”
The couple shared a look and the woman pulled her coat open, revealing a typical Elf’s costume, based on corny human mythology. “We’re supposed to be elves at the mall.” She grimaced. “It’s probably a madhouse there.”
The man chuckled. “I don’t suppose they’ll invite us to do it again after we’re no shows.”
His wife nodded. “I’m having trouble working up a negative reaction to that thought at the moment.”
We all chuckled.
An orchestral strain of A Fairy in the Christmas Tree began playing, the rich sound saturating the room with emotion. The man closed his eyes. “Gorgeous.” His eyes flew open. “You have a Soul of Christmas box. Where’d you get it?”
Grym and I shared a look. “Umm,” I said.
The woman lifted the knitted cap off her ears, showing me the points. “It’s okay. You’re the Keeper, aren’t you?”
Human hybrid Elves. Not Fae. Not really. But they were born with a tiny bit of magic, mostly of the cloaking variety, and lived their lives looking like the human version of Santa’s little helpers. Some of them resisted the humiliating stereotype and tried to mask their most telling features, but some, like my Elvin guests apparently, decided not to fight fate and found jobs in film and theater playing the creatures they resembled.
Before I responded, I glanced toward the three humans near the food, seeing them happily occupied and not paying attention to us. Then I nodded. “A friend of mine gave it to me for Christmas.”
“Where is it?” the man demanded. “I need to see it.”
I didn’t like the way he asked, so I ignored the question. “How long have you been playing Santa’s helpers at the mall?”
The woman chuckled. “I believe this will be our fifth year, isn’t that right Eattle?”
“That sounds right, Earline.”
The strange names nearly made me smile. “Well, I guess I’ll go mingle. Please make yourselves at home.”
A plaintive yowl sounded on the other side of the dividing door. I veered in that direction just as Mr. Peabody came out of the small bathroom and nearly ran into me.
“Oh, hello, Naida. I’m sorry.” He wavered a bit on his feet, his eyes going momentarily crossed.
“Are you all right?” I asked him, reaching out to touch his arm in case he started to fall.
“I’m fine. I think I just had too much of Sebille’s special tea.” He winked at me, and I slid my assistant a look. She was standing by the window, waving her arms expansively as she spoke to Devard.
“Maybe you should stick to the eggnog for a while,” I told the elderly man. “And have some food.”
He nodded and tottered toward the food table.
I hurried over to Sebille. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
She turned a bright smile on me, her eyes looking a bit glassy. “What’s up, boss?”
The music came to a crescendo and dropped to a dramatic pause, which was filled by dual yowling on the other side of the dividing door.
I glanced that way, torn.
“You should let the furry rats in, Naida,” Sebille slurred.
I glared at her. “I need to speak to you for a moment.” I turned to Devard. “If you’ll excuse us for a moment…?”
He nodded and I tugged Sebille toward the center aisle of the bookshelves. I stopped in my tracks when I saw Mrs. Foxladle sitting in one of the reader chairs at the center, her gaze following something only she could see and her hands reaching to bat it away.
I turned to Sebille. “Did you spike everybody’s tea?” I asked in a harsh whisper.
She reared back, nearly toppling over and having to take a couple of steps to keep from falling. Placing a hand dramatically on her chest, she fixed her face into a shocked expression. “Moi?”
“Yes, Vous!” I said, well past the last shred of my patience. “You’ve made everybody drunk.” A sudden thought made me yelp in horror. I ran to the front of the store again and looked at the two Elves. They were still sitting at the table, still sipping their hot chocolate and seemed to be fine. They’d removed their hats and coats and were chatting with Claudette Baxter.
My heart rate dropped to a reasonable level. Apparently, my irresponsible assistant hadn’t drugged Eattle and Earline’s cocoa. That was something, at least. The last thing I needed was a lawsuit from two complete strangers being drugged against their will.
Somebody tugged a curly strand of my dark brown hair. I turned with a glower to find Sebille wavering before me. “I din…didn…didn’t spike anything.”
She was clearly under the influence of something. And I wasn’t sure I could trust anything she had to say. But something passed through her iridescent green gaze. Something wary and touched with fear. And I realized she was telling me the truth. “If not you, then who?”
She wobbled there for a moment, and then her eyes went wide. We both said his name at the same time.
“Hobs!”
I turned on my heel, heading for the artifact library.
“Wait, Naida!” Sebille called out. She started to fall sideways and caught herself on the shelves. “What d…do…doooo…doooyou want me ta do?”
I wrenched the door open and two sleek gray forms shot into the room, tails whipping angrily. “Make coffee. Lots of it. And see if Lea can do something.”
Sebille gave me a jaunty salute that sent her reeling sideways. She stumbled into the aisle between the shelves and I had no idea if she hit the ground or not. I let the connecting door slam shut behind me and went in search of the naughty hobgoblin.
4
It Ain’t for the Bleeps and Fraidys
“Hobs!”
Silence met my shout, deep and almost pulsing with expectation. It was much quieter than it should have been.
“Hobs, come here, please.”
Nothing.
I closed my eyes and engaged my keeper magic, tuning into the artifact library at a detailed level, so that I felt the
pulse of everything inside the massive space. I sensed a tension running through the room, a slight thrum in the magic that told me something wasn’t quite right.
But no Hobs.
Where was he? “Hobs! You’re scaring me. Come out here right now.”
High above my head, something shifted. I looked up to find SB staring down at me. “What be twisting yer mainsail, Lass?”
“Have you seen Hobs?”
SB lifted his wings and floated down to me, landing on my shoulder amid a storm of downy under-feathers. “Walked the blackguard off the plank, meself, not a quarter-hour past.”
Since we had no plank, or large body of water to float it over, I wasn’t overly concerned by his statement. I chose to glom onto the part that told me Hobs had been there. “You saw him? Which way did he go?”
SB danced sideways, lifting his wings, the ratty feathers scraping along my cheek. “Down, down, down to the belly of the sea. The lad sank like a bloody rock, and at the bottom he be.”
I rolled my eyes. “SB, I don’t have time for your limericks. This is important.”
“Bwawk!” He rose in alarm as the dividing door flew open, crashing against the wall behind it. I spun to face the person standing in the doorway, the small, rotund form encased in a red velvet jacket with fake fur trim and green and red striped socks, which ended in jaunty green slippers that curved upward at the toes.
Earline’s rosy round face was fixed in an expression of awe, her black eyes filled with the same emotion.
How in the goddess’s best lace panties had the Elf opened that door? It still had Sebille’s magical lock on it. “Earline. Can I help you find something?”
The black button eyes roved around the library, widening as they took in the massive array of magical artifacts. “Oh, my!” she murmured.
I hurried forward, blocking the artifact library with my body as I gently pushed her back into the bookstore. A messy collection of red and green feathers whirled past my ear, and SB flew squawking into the bookstore.
My guests all turned to exclaim in surprise as the parrot made a circuit above their heads. “Drink yer ration o’ grog, ye lads, sup yer thimble miladies. It’s a bloody cold night that’ll freeze yer bleeps, and it ain’t for the bleeps and fraidys.”
Claudette Baxter squealed happily, clapping her hands as SB swooped past and made a lewd suggestion above her head.
I closed my eyes, striving for calm. Then opened them again as an icy hand touched my skin.
Earline, looking concerned.
“Are you okay, Naida keeper?”
I nodded, forcing a smile. “I’m fine. Were you looking for something?”
Earline frowned. “Yes. I can’t find Eattle. I checked the stacks of books. By the way, there’s an elderly lady in there who seems to be rather inebriated.” She frowned with disapproval. “Hopefully, you’re not serving spirits here?”
I shook my head. “I’m not, no. She’s probably just tired.” It was a lame excuse. I felt guilty for implying that Mrs. Foxladle might be suffering from night dementia, but it was all that came to mind. “I’ll check on her.”
Something brushed against my leg and whirled away before I could identify it. Hex or Mr. Wicked, no doubt, enjoying the party and all the food they were finding on the floor. I firmly closed the dividing door, checking to make sure it still glowed green. Just in case, I sent a wisp of keeper magic into it to reinforce Sebille’s lock. Earline should not have been able to open that door.
Unless I’d left it slightly ajar by mistake.
Deciding that had probably been what happened, I pushed that bit of worry aside. “He wouldn’t be back there. You checked the bathroom?” I glanced toward the small bathroom. The door was open. It was empty. “Maybe he stepped outside for some air?”
Earline sent a worried gaze toward the big window behind the tree. The snow was coming down in thick sheets, blocking out everything except the faint, eerie glow of the street light behind it. “I hope not. Maybe we should send out a search party for him.”
I barely bit back a grimace. The last thing I wanted to do was send my guests out into the storm. “I could probably scrape up a couple of people to help with that.” I patted her arm. “Let me see what I can do.”
I approached Grym first. He was standing near the window, looking out into the snow.
“Did you see Eattle leave through this door?”
Grym looked surprised. “No. He’d have to be crazy to have gone out in this. You can’t see three feet in front of you out there.”
I stared into the falling snow, worry burrowing through my stomach. “Earline thinks he went outside. She wants us to go search for him.”
Grym slid the small, round woman a look. “Did she check the bathroom?”
“It’s empty.” I let him see the concern on my face. “She opened the door into the artifact library.”
“Did you forget to lock it?”
I bit back irritation. In his shoes, I’d have probably asked the same question. “Double locked. Sebille reinforced it.”
His expression turned even more serious. “I don’t like this.”
A woman stumbled past, bumping into me and turning with a smile to apologize. “Naida, I’m so sorry. I guess I’m a little light-headed from the vape I just tried. Sebille offered me a very unique mixture.” It was Claudette Baxter, her cheeks rosy and her cloud of blonde hair slightly askew as if she’d repeatedly run her fingers through it.
I hadn’t known Claudette vaped, but I seemed to remember she used to be a smoker so it wasn’t really that unusual for her to have taken up vaping.
Her words struck horror in my heart. “Sebille broke out her special vapes?”
Claudette’s smile was wide, slightly crooked. “I know, exciting, huh.” She glanced around, frowning. “Have you seen my purse?”
“What does it look like?” I asked.
“Tiny and black, about yay big.” She held her hands about five inches apart. “It has a long silver chain on it.”
“No, sorry. I haven’t seen it. But I’ll keep my eyes open.”
Frowning, she nodded. “Thanks. Maybe I left it over by the food table. Everything tastes so delicious. Especially those cookies.”
I looked at Grym, and he shook his head. “You’re going to have to start a ‘lost and found’ after tonight.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve lost my keys. I was going to leave earlier, but I couldn’t find them anywhere.”
“You don’t have to leave, Grym. It’s okay.”
“Well, as it turns out, I can’t anyway. The roads are impassable now.”
A plate of food appeared in front of me. I turned to find Lea, her turquoise gaze slightly twitchy. “I brought you some food. You haven’t had a minute to visit and eat.”
“I’m not really hungry.”
“Eat!” she ordered, then giggled. “Sorry. I channeled my mother there for a minute.”
“I’m really not…”
She picked up a cookie and stuffed it into my mouth. There was nothing I could do but take a bite. I chewed and swallowed, dropping the cookie back onto the plate. “There, are you happy now?”
“Nope. Two more bites of cookie and then you can eat your vegetables.” She giggled again, wheeling away to join the other guests, whom I was just noticing, seemed to be equally giddy.
“This is the drunkest party I’ve ever been to where nobody’s drinking.”
Grym took a cookie from the plate and held it up. “Maybe it’s these cookies. Have you noticed the smell of them follows you all around the room?”
I inhaled deeply, enjoying the scent of sugar and vanilla. “It smells like Christmas.”
Grym took a huge bite, swallowing and eyeing my plate. “Are you going to eat that?”
I handed him the plate. “Help yourself. Do you think we should go out looking for Eattle?”
Grym shook his head. “He’s probably under the table or behind the stacks. If he�
�d gone out this door, I would have seen him.”
My gaze slid to Earline and worry niggled. The woman stood all by herself, her hands crossed in front of her. She seemed to be guarding the connecting door as if she believed Eattle was in there.
I scanned my mind back over my quick visit there, trying to remember if the Elf could have slipped through. I was almost certain I’d pulled the door snugly closed. He’d have had to be invisible and really fast to get through behind me.
Though, Earline had gotten the door open. Seemingly without even trying.
The bites of cookie in my stomach turned sour.
A heavy drumbeat preceded a booming rendition of the little drummer boy, coming from the Soul of Christmas box. Each beat was like an extra heartbeat in my chest. The powerful concussive sound was like a shot of adrenaline to my system, ratcheting up my stress level until it felt as if my heart was in my throat.
A wave of dizziness made me wobble on my feet. I took a deep breath and braced myself against the shelves.
“Naida, did you take the tea strainer? I wanna make…” Sebille’s voice trailed off and she cocked her head, her gaze sliding upward, to something I couldn’t see. “Pretty.”
Had everyone but me lost their minds…?
A large butterfly, iridescent green and purple like a Sprite’s wings, fluttered past. I squinted at it, trying to figure out how a butterfly had gotten into Croakies in the dead of winter. “Where did you come from, pretty one?” I stuck a finger out and the butterfly landed on it, waving its antenna at me and smiling widely. “Hello,” I said. “What’s your name?”
“Naida?” someone said.
“I’m Bob.”
Well, that didn’t seem right. “Bob? Really?”
“Yes. Bob. With two Os.”
I thought about that for a minute and then giggled. “You’re lying.”
“Naida!” A big hand clawed my shoulder and shook me so hard poor Boob went flying off into the distance. I reached for him, crying out his name. “No, wait, Boob!”