Chapter 5

Cat Radio

“C’mon.” Kisa pushed the grate out of the way and squeezed through the tiny opening. She crawled forward on her belly and stood to discover that they were in a storage room full of wrapping paper. Turning around, she grabbed Holly by the wrists to pull her through. Holly sat down against the wall while Kisa helped Tink. The goblin grumbled when her horns caught on the edge of the grate, then swore when she fell on her face.

The openings in the heating system were typically small, which meant it had taken some time to find one big enough for them to squeeze through. They had walked for several hours, all tied together by the garland around their waists to keep from getting split up. On more than a couple occasions, one of them had fallen in a hole that hadn’t existed for the others, or turned down a brand new hallway that opened up without warning. Eventually, Tink’s goggles had tracked airflow and she led them to an exit big enough for the three of them to fit through.

“Tink tired of fucking vents,” she declared, then stood and brushed off her dress. “Husband big lost, need better strategy.”

“Agreed.” Kisa frowned at the vent, then closed her eyes. They had tried to find Mike, but his location kept shifting all over the place. Sometimes Kisa could sense that he was close by, but then he would shift away as if teleported. The trio had made slow progress, and Holly’s only contribution had been her presence. The elf had been silent the entire time, staring at her feet as they walked.

Tink stuck her head back in the vent and looked around, her nostrils flaring. “Husband wait for Tink!” she hollered, then backed out. “Stupid fucking furnace,” she muttered and flopped down on the ground. “Tummy hurt. Big hungry.”

At hearing these words, Holly flinched, then reached into the pack around her waist and pulled out a handful of cookies. They were sugar cookies shaped like bells, wreaths and candy canes that had been decorated with white frosting and colored sugar crystals. She handed them wordlessly to Tink, then sat down against the wall.

“No make Tink forget?” the goblin asked warily. “Tink no like memory cookies.”

Holly shook her head. “They’re magic, but they don’t make you forget,” she said, then took another one from her pouch. She took a bite to show that they were safe. “I’ve got plenty, but a couple should fill you right up. I have them for long missions away from home, human food isn’t really good for elves. Too much salt.”

Tink handed Kisa a couple, then ate the rest all at once. Her dress was soon adorned with cookie crumbs, which she meticulously picked up and stuffed into her mouth.

“So are you ready to talk?” Kisa took a bite of the candy cane cookie and moaned. It was the most fantastic thing she had ever tasted, filling her mouth with buttery richness and just a hint of peppermint.

Holly sighed, then wrapped her arms around her legs. “What do you know about Santa?” she asked.

“Beard. Fat. Red suit.” Tink listed these off, her mouth still full of cookie crumbs. A few fell out, and she picked up the crumbs and dutifully tucked them back in her mouth.

“He’s much more than that.” Holly looked back at the vents. “The human world only sees what it wants to, which has always been a double edged sword.”

“What do you mean?” Kisa took another bite and fought back the wave of culinary pleasure that rushed through her. If she got a chance, she was taking some of these home with her after this was all over.

“He didn’t always use to be the way he is. Santa, he adapts, you know?” Holly stood and turned toward the wall. She pulled a marker from her pack and started drawing on the wall. When she stepped away, she had drawn a man in robes and a tall hat. “This was how people saw Santa in the beginning. Just a simple man with a desire for generosity. He was called Saint Nicholas back then, and he performed miracles and a great many deeds. His legends grew until he did something that all mortals eventually do—he died.”

“Doesn’t seem dead to me,” Kisa said. “Not that I’ve met him, but we’re at the North Pole. Clearly he still exists.”

The elf nodded, then drew a picture of a jolly Santa, complete with hat and a giant belly. “There’s an entire story between these two pictures,” she explained as she capped the marker. “One that nobody ever gets to hear, not even most of the elves.”

“What’s he hiding?” Kisa asked. “You make it sound so ominous.”

Holly scowled, then nodded to herself. “He has a secret, a very big one. Allie told it to me a long time ago, but only because I get to leave the North Pole.” She turned back toward the drawings and tapped on the saint first, then Santa. “Hundreds of years is plenty of time for one man to go from this to this. You would think that a man who gives gifts to children would be universally lauded, but that isn’t so. He’s had his share of enemies over the years.”

“Tink have enemies, too.” The goblin walked over to Holly and stuck her hand in Holly’s pack. “Still hungry, maybe two more cookies.”

Holly swatted Tink away and then handed her a couple more. “I’ll run out eventually, especially if you keep eating them so fast.”

“Tink, here.” Kisa had gotten full after eating just one of her cookies, so gave her spare to the goblin. “So, anyway, Santa’s enemies?”

“Right.” Holly looked back at the wall. “Um, where was I? Oh, yes. So before most of the elves were here, the North Pole was ... very different. I’m fuzzy on those details, but it’s important to know that Saint Nicholas found this place long before he became Santa Claus. He and the first elf started making toys for little kids, but it was more than that. When he took the place over, some of the locals didn’t take too kindly to it. Battles were fought, long affairs that stained the North Pole in blood.”

“Santa wear red coat to avoid cleaning bill,” Tink added knowingly.

“No, he didn’t! Eat your darn cookies.” Holly scowled at Tink for a moment, then looked back at Kisa. “I don’t know the full details on the fights, and even less about why he came to the North Pole in the first place. Alabaster was one of the first elves here, and is one of the most trusted. He knows practically everything, but tells nobody. Outside of the big secret, I only know so much of this extra stuff because I’ve been around Allie when he’s had too much eggnog and he’s spilled some details on occasion.”

“Hehe, eggnog.” Tink smiled. “Tink like magic eggnog.”

Holly ignored Tink. “So the big secret is this: Santa is powered by belief. If you could convince everyone in the world that the big man didn’t exist, he would simply cease to be.”

“That ... wait, how is he powered by belief?”

Holly tapped on the picture of Saint Nicholas. “Some time after Saint Nicholas came here, he died, and then was resurrected. Nobody is sure of the mechanism itself, but he’s essentially immortal. Immortality always comes with a hefty price, and his is that he will only exist as the world sees him. It’s why Allie wants me to pay attention to how the world sees him, it’s to brace for any changes we may experience on our end.”

“Hold up.” Kisa held up her hands, a stray memory floating through her head. It was rare to remember anything new from her time before the house, so she latched onto it with enthusiasm. “I think I remember something from when I was little. I saw a picture of a black Santa and asked ... someone how that was possible. They explained something about how Santa can be black, or white, or Japanese, depending on the child.”

Holly tapped her nose for emphasis. “Exactly. Before that soda ad campaign, he was much more diverse in appearance. White robes one day, red the next, was a bit of a toss up. When he’s not visiting with a child, he reverts to the overall public perception, which is currently a jolly fat man with a beard in a red coat.”

“So if everyone believed Santa was a woman, he would become one?” Kisa asked.

Tink laughed. “Santa make own milk for her cookies!” she declared, then mimed squirting milk from her boobs and catching it on her own tongue.

“Ugh.” Holly looked away from the goblin, her cheeks brightening. “But yes, it could happen. Which brings me back to those battles. If Santa had become a warrior for the sake of survival, it would have changed him at a fundamental level. Anything he does becomes a part of his image, which then becomes a part of who he is. I believe the human term is ‘doubling down’.”

“So if he became a killer...” Kisa pondered the possibilities, imagining a psychotic Santa Claus who murdered his way across the North Pole and then headed south for more victims.

“Precisely. I think you understand.” Holly drew a quick picture of a devil on the wall. “Which brings me to the Krampus. A demon from the deepest pits. Nobody knows how it happened, but Santa enslaved this creature to do all his fighting for him. It helped protect his image and win the battle for the North Pole.”

“Tink hear of Krampus.” The goblin’s ears perked up. “Tink remember tales of Krampus from childhood. Be good, or Krampus eat you!”

Kisa looked at Tink with curiosity. To her knowledge, Tink had never brought up her own childhood.

“Sounds right,” Holly added. “The Krampus is a mean old thing who believes in punishing bad children instead of rewarding good ones. After so many of these fights, Santa and Krampus came out on top. Once the North Pole was safe again, Santa locked the Krampus away. He couldn’t let the demon interfere with Christmas.”

“So do you think the Krampus escaped?” Kisa asked.

“Oh, no doubt, he’s out, he has to be. Some things make more sense now. Allie slowed him down while we escaped into the furnace. He would have gotten us all, otherwise.”

“Why Holly need escape?” Tink asked. The goblin’s dress was adorned with cookie stains that she occasionally sucked on. “Old ears make sure Holly not lost.”

“Santa needs people to believe in him so that he continues to exist.” Holly took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “If the Krampus has captured the other elves, there’s no telling what happened to them. I could be the only one left for all I know. But that’s not what’s important. You see, the whole world is time locked right now. The elves were created for Santa, not just as his helpers, but as his guardians and protectors. The world remains locked for months on end, maybe even years, it’s always different. Our belief sustains his existence during the lock, and if we’re all snuffed out...”

“Then no more Santa.” Kisa whistled. “That’s some pretty heavy stuff right there. But we’re not time locked either, and I believe in him, so it should be safe, right?”

Holly shook her head. “No. It takes a special kind of belief. Knowing he exists and believing in him are entirely separate things. A child has a special kind of belief, an innocent way of seeing the world that adults lose. They believe without needing proof, which is a very big deal. Elves were created to love Santa, so our belief in him is baked into our magical cookie code. An adult who believes in Santa with child-like innocence despite being told he doesn’t exist is essentially impossible to find these days.”

“Tink believe,” the goblin declared. “Santa bring Tink special person to love, always believe in Santa.”

“You hardly have an innocent worldview,” Holly said with a snort. “You were just pretending to milk yourself. Besides, the first time I met you and said Santa needed your help, you called me a ... word I won’t repeat. And told me to do something anatomically impossible.”

“Goblins make lots of milk,” Tink added, holding a pair of fingers out from the tip of each breast to represent her nipples. It was clear she was avoiding Holly’s accusation. “Babies hungry always, come in litters.”

“Okay, Tink, enough about your boobs.” Kisa snatched a cookie from Holly’s pouch before she could react and tossed it to Tink. “So the Krampus is hunting you, and we can’t let him have you. Got it. Moving on. Anything else we need to know?”

“If Jack Frost is helping him, there will be others.” Holly groaned. “Oh, Santa, I don’t know what to do!”

Kisa patted the elf reassuringly on the shoulder, then felt a powerful tug in the center of her body. Her cat ears perked up as she looked into the hole they had crawled out from. Mike had reappeared somewhere nearby, but was still miles out. She fought the urge to crawl back in the hole and find him.

“I need you two to hush for a minute.” Kisa sat down in front of the vent with her legs crossed. “We’re close enough now that I think we can talk.”

“Talk? With who?” Holly looked perplexed.

“Cat radio,” Tink said, then sat next to Kisa. “Tell husband Tink miss him biggest.”

“I’ll tell him you’re causing trouble.”

“Even better.”

Kisa grinned, then shut her eyes and took several deep breaths. Her magic pulsed deep inside her body, then blossomed like a rose as she sent her consciousness forward.

Mike and Yuki had traveled silently for the last couple of hours, and were currently in a narrow duct. As they walked along, the metal flexed beneath their feet. There weren’t any vents to see the Workshop through, which worried Mike. If not for the little lightning spider guiding the way, it would be pitch black.

“I need another break.” Yuki’s face was pale as she leaned away from Mike and put her hand on the nearby wall. “Just for a few minutes.”

“Yeah, of course.” Mike helped her into a sitting position, then moved next to her. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and she slumped against him.

“Sorry,” she muttered. “It’s like I have the worst hangover ever.”

“Kitsune can get drunk?” he asked.

“Stupid ones can,” she replied. “It’s been a very long time since I’ve indulged. Set my own tail on fire. Never drink and do magic. You’ll blow your own damned face off.”

“That’s good advice, I’ll have some t-shirts made.”

She snorted, then groaned. “Oh, that hurts so bad. I thought it would be better already.”

“How long were you in there?” he asked out of curiosity. “Christmas Past seemed to have quite the upper hand on you by the time I arrived.”

“Days,” she replied. “I lost track.”

“I’m so sorry.” He rubbed her ears, causing her to sigh. “It wasn’t that long for me.”

“I’m glad,” she told him. “I can’t imagine what that stupid ghost put you through.”

“Not much, honestly.” He looked down at the hand he had punched Christmas Past with. His knuckles were scraped raw, despite their soft impact. “Just some old mommy issues that I’ve largely resolved. They obviously thought it was low-hanging fruit, but I didn’t bite. Would have made me suffer more if they had me relive that Christmas I got food poisoning.”

“Gross.”

“I’m guessing you saw her? Emily, I mean.”

“Yeah.” She sniffled in his arms. “It was super fucked up. Brought back a lot of feelings. Then they took me on a tour of my greatest hits over the years. Made me question a lot of my decisions, I think it’s how they got inside my head.”

“Nasty.” He stroked her fur absent-mindedly. “I used to think about the past all the time. It can be hard to let those things go, doubly so if you have to watch a physical manifestation of them.”

It wasn’t just that his life had changed for the better. When Naia had done that initial soul swap with him, she had fixed something in his head. Instead of a past that would surface and scream in his face during his waking hours, the wounds had been allowed to heal, leaving emotional scars that faded into the background as he swapped souls with the others. In the Dreamscape, his mother’s voice used to follow him around and shriek madly in an attempt to bring him misery. Now there was just blessed silence, other than the lapping of the waves against the shores of his mind.

On at least a couple of occasions, someone had tried to use the past against him. While jarring at first, repetition had blunted the edge of that particular weapon.

He thought back to what he had seen in his childhood, and his mother’s missed medication. After the trick with his ex-girlfriends, Mike wasn’t certain if what he had seen was real or not. If not, then nothing had changed. But if his mother really had been ill and needed that medication to stay stable...

He shook his head and wiped the moisture from his eyes. Nothing could ever change what had happened, and all he could do was feel bad for the little boy playing with toy cars under that Christmas tree. Mikey had a loving family one Christmas, and they were gone the next.

“Hey.” Yuki squeezed him. “You good?”

“Just sad,” he told her. “It’s okay to be sad sometimes.”

“That’s good, because I’m sad a lot.” She shifted in his arms into a more comfortable position and nuzzled against him. “And that’s what made me weak. That ghost used my grief to get inside my head, to make me feel useless. You had to come rescue me, and it should always be the other way around.”

“Why?” he asked.

“Because that’s what I’m good for. I’m a weapon, I’m supposed to protect you.”

“You’re not just a weapon,” he replied. “You’re a person, and my friend. We protect each other. I couldn’t have survived Oregon without you, we both know that. You’re stronger than me in so many different ways, but it isn’t always about what you can do for me. You’re also an artist. I’ve seen the easels in your room, I know you’re not just painting new tarot cards in there.” Yuki had a bad habit of leaving her bedroom door open, and her paintings were usually pointed right at the door. Over the last several months, he had seen landscapes and still-lifes that were nothing short of amazing. “There’s more to you than just being the ice queen.”

Yuki didn’t say anything for so long that Mike wondered if she had fallen asleep. Or maybe he had made things awkward by complimenting her so much all at once. Not being able to see her face made it difficult for him to read how his words had landed, and this was a conversation that required a measured approach.

“Do you miss her?” Yuki asked unexpectedly.

Mike knew exactly who she was talking about. Other than Eulalie, almost nobody brought up Velvet around him. He wasn’t sure if they were afraid it would hurt his feelings, or if it just made them uncomfortable.

“Every day,” he replied. “It’s weird to think how big a part of my life she became, even though I only knew her for a few days.”

“Love can do that,” she said. “It’s the sword that can mistake your heart for its own sheath. Every time you wield it, there’s a good chance that you only hurt yourself.”

“Do you miss Emily?”

The temperature in the hallway dropped, and he felt Yuki tense up. It was almost like her magic was acting defensively, but there was no actual threat. It was likely the question itself, and he almost regretted asking.

“I don’t know how to explain it,” she said. “I love who she was, but loathe who she became. I dream about her most nights. Sometimes she’s just watching me, other times we talk. We reminisce, we argue, it’s like she’s really there. But sometimes the dreams turn bad, and I’m facing her as she was toward the end. I scream her name, beg her to snap out of it so I can save her, but...”

“That sounds hard.” He squeezed her affectionately. “This might sound silly, but if you ever need Lily to go into your dreams, she can probably help.”

In fact, Lily had offered once to go with him to the Dreamscape and masquerade as Velvet, but he had turned her down. He didn’t dare tarnish that final memory of her shimmering eyes as she crossed over on the shores of his soul.

“No thanks. There’s a lot in there I’m not really comfortable with her seeing.”

“I understand.” He sighed and relaxed against the wall. They had walked so far already, and there was no telling how much farther they would have to go. His magic had recuperated a bit, but not enough to power him on the marathon jogs he was used to. Maybe if Yuki shrunk down, he could carry her and jog for a couple of hours until they found a way out.

Thinking of Yuki, he wondered what sort of tragic secrets she still carried. There was more than a single lifetime of hurt weighing on her soul, and he wished for perhaps the hundredth time that there was a way he could help her with her burdens. Sometimes it seemed she was on the verge of crossing the divide she had built around her, but it always surprised him how quickly she was able to step away from that metaphorical ledge.

Mike. It was Kisa’s voice, wavering slightly as if spoken through a tube. Can you hear me?

I can. Even though it was dark, he closed his eyes. Kisa materialized before him, sitting with her legs crossed. Where are you? Are you all okay?

We are. Kisa’s eyes popped open, and she smiled. I can see you!

We mustn’t be too far away, he replied with a grin. Ever since the two of them had connected minds across thousands of miles and a dimensional barrier, they had been working on replicating the feat. When close enough, they could communicate telepathically, but it required a fair bit of concentration. Luckily, he had nothing better to do right now.

“What’s going on?” Yuki asked.

“Cat radio,” he replied, using Tink’s favorite term for it.

“Are they close?” she asked.

“Hold on.” It took him a moment to strengthen the connection. Where are you? We can head that way, he told Kisa.

Don’t. We’re in the Workshop right now, but listen. The furnace is enchanted, the tunnels change without warning. Kisa tilted her head as if listening to something. Tink says that you should try to find a way out next time you find a vent. It would be easier to find you out here. Is Yuki still with you?

She is.

Good. Don’t get separated, the vents of the furnace are constantly shifting. Kisa made a face. You’re being hunted.

I know, he replied. Just had a pissing match with the ghost of Christmas Past. They weren’t happy with the outcome.

There’s at least two more in there with you. Are you okay?

I am, but Christmas Past got away, so they’re still out there. Apparently they work for the Krampus, now, whatever that means.

Kisa nodded. About that. He’s hunting Holly. We need to regroup and figure out a plan. This guy sounds like a real dick, and he might be in there with you, we aren’t sure.

“Mike?” Yuki’s voice was a whisper as she grabbed Mike by the front of his jacket and tugged. He opened his eyes and saw that a faint glow was coming from somewhere up ahead. The tunnel was being illuminated by a distant ball of light that disappeared around a distant turn, but didn’t go much farther. Its ambient light was more than enough to continue illuminating the main passageway.

He closed his eyes again and saw Kisa. Her image rippled, a result of the distraction. Even when the two of them were in the same house, it was very difficult to maintain a psychic link like this. Shit, we have company. Stay out of the vents, we’ll find a way to escape.

Kisa gave him a thumbs up, and then vanished.

“It’s getting closer,” Yuki whispered as she rose, then pulled Mike up. The tiny sphere of light was surrounded by red lines of energy that made it look like a Christmas ornament. Festive music echoed down the corridor, and Mike was fairly certain he was hearing Auld Lang Syne being sung.

“Let’s head back the way we came,” he whispered back. “The vents change anyway, doesn’t seem to matter where we go.”

She nodded. As they backed away from the approaching light, they passed a corridor that descended like a slide.

“Hold on.” Mike led Yuki into the side passage, then knelt down and held his hand to the floor. He summoned a lightning spider and guided it to the corner. The air sizzled around it while it waited for instructions.

“Okay, let’s go.” He held Yuki’s hand as they moved twenty feet down the corridor. At his mental command, the lightning spider jumped around the corridor and shot sparks into the air as it ran away.

The spirit blasted after the spider with the sound of jingling bells. The spider fled down the corridor and away from the spirit, scattering light and sparks in an attempt to make a scene. Mike and Yuki crouched down as the spirit barreled past them, leaving glitter and snowflakes painted all along the corridor behind it.

There was a loud pop, and the hallway went dark. Mike felt his magic strain at the sudden change in distance between himself and the little spider before it fizzled out.

“It’s gone,” he said, then summoned another spider for light.

“I’m guessing the ghost of Christmas Present?” Yuki pointed at the decorations, which were already fading into colored smoke. “At least it leaves a trail for us to avoid.”

“Then I say let’s avoid it.” He turned down the corridor and felt a tugging in his abdomen. It was Kisa’s presence, suddenly much closer. Had the furnace tunnels shifted again? “I sense the others nearby. I hope that means we’re close enough to the Workshop that we can break out of here. We just need to find a vent big enough to fit through and we’re set. If we don’t, we’ll probably starve or die of thirst while being chased by Christmas movie rejects.”

“I can make us water.” She held out a hand and summoned a small icicle. “There’s not a lot of moisture in here, but this is doable. It’ll sap your body heat, though. I think you’ll freeze to death long before you starve.”

“Least of my concerns right now.” He took the icicle from her and sucked on it. His lips had already cracked. She summoned one for herself and bit the tip off. “That’s bad for your teeth,” he said.

She bared her fangs at him with a smile. “I’ll worry about my teeth. You worry about getting us out of here.”

It was hardly a fair trade, but seeing her smile was worth it.

They continued down the long hallway until it tapered, forcing Mike to crouch. He lost track of how many hours they walked, his stomach grumbling in protest. That single mug of hot cocoa wasn’t going to sustain him forever.

The spider leading them down the tunnel blipped out of existence, carried away by whatever magic ran the place. Mike and Yuki paused, and she summoned a foxfire flame to float ahead of them.

“You’ve got to be running low on magic,” she told him. “Let me lighten the burden.”

“I’m doing okay. The spiders are pretty easy,” he explained. “I’m really just having my magic walk in front of me. Since there’s nobody to sink into, it doesn’t even take that much concentration to maintain. I can even reclaim it, but there’s a small chance it might trigger my sex drive, so I usually just let it fizzle out.”

“How many of them can you control at once?” she asked.

“Three, if we’re talking complete control. If I just make them run until they hit something, I can do quite a few.”

Yuki nodded. “A lot of magic scales up exponentially based on complexity. The fact that you make them look like little spiders probably doesn’t help.”

The comment wasn’t meant to be hurtful, but it felt like he was punched in the gut. He stopped walking, and Yuki squeezed his hand.

“Shit, I’m sorry.” She patted his arm. “It’s not that I forget, I just—”

“It’s fine.” He took a deep breath and let it out. The lightning spiders had been created shortly after Velvet’s death as a way to speak with the spiders in his own house. Their lives were typically simple, and once he had convinced Tink not to swat them, it wasn’t uncommon to spot them in the corners of the room giving him a friendly wave. “It really is. I started using them as a way to stay connected to her and it’s just a habit now. I honestly don’t know if I could make them into a different shape without some serious effort.”

“I’m the same way with ice magic. When my third tail grew, I was so angry and bitter that I connected with ice on a fundamental level. I’m not in that place anymore, but the magic is just as much a part of me as my own hands. I tend to lean on it.” Yuki turned and wrapped her arms around him, holding him tight. “But I wish I could learn to lean on others, like you do. I hate feeling isolated, like I’m the fifth wheel of the family. And before you begin, I know I do it to myself.”

“Yuki.” He twisted to hug her properly. The fur of her coat was indistinguishable from her own natural softness, and it was remarkable just how fluffy she felt against him. “I think you already know this, but I’m always here for you, no matter what you need.”

She shifted, and he could make out the outline of her smile in the dim light.

“Thank you,” she said, then looked up at him. Her eyes were shining, and he was suddenly aware of how close her face was to his. Her triple tails swished about, then folded around him as if in an embrace.

Her foxfire went out, and she got on her tiptoes and planted a small kiss on the corner of his lips. One of her fangs caught the edge of his lower lip, but not enough to draw blood.

When Yuki spoke, her voice was barely a whisper. “I’m not entirely certain, but I think I may be falling for you, Caretaker.”

“I—” Mike was cut off when she pressed her finger against his lips to shush him.

“Don’t say anything, not yet.” She let out a sigh and hugged him. “Just hold me a bit longer, and then we need to keep moving. You won’t be able to survive the cold like I can.”