Chapter 8: True North

It took most of the hour to get Santa’s bedroom cleaned up. Mike and Yuki had stacked the wet towels in an empty laundry basket by the fireplace before sitting down to eat the food left for them. Beneath the silver domes on the tray was a wonderful roast duck dinner with green beans and mashed potatoes on the side. A thermos full of hot apple cider had been provided, and the two of them ate in silence on the floor as they attempted to finish the meal before Mrs. Claus returned.

Occasionally, a loud banging could be felt throughout the house, but Mike had decided it would be better to stay put. He was already on her bad side, and didn’t have anything else to wear other than the pants she had given him. His clothes were lost in the cracks of reality, and he didn’t feel like wandering around the North Pole in just his pants.

Yuki kept flashing him sly smiles. Her upbeat demeanor was infectious, and he caught himself smiling in response. When they finished eating, she leaned against him and closed her eyes.

“Not bad for a first date, Caretaker.” She chuckled and put her hand against his chest. “Though I would have preferred somewhere with more dancing.”

“Oh, so we’re dating now?”

She giggled and turned her face away from him. “I’ll probably end up pregnant after what you did. We might have to get married.”

“What?” He sat up so suddenly that Yuki fell away from him, revealing the stupid grin on her face.

“Man, you’re so easy.” She laughed and patted her belly. “I can’t get pregnant unless I want to. For someone who likes to blow his load in every woman he fucks, you put very little thought into the potential consequences.”

He pressed his lips together and frowned. The thought had occurred to him more than once that he should really get his shit together regarding all the women he had sex with. “You’re not wrong,” he admitted.

“Maybe Christmas Present will give birth to all sorts of new holidays. Mike day, big dick day, Radl—ow!” She jerked away from him when he pinched her inner thigh.

“I should probably talk to Naia about birth control,” he admitted. “I’ve just taken it for granted that so many of you are either incompatible with me or can take care of it yourselves. That’s how I ended up with an egg and a little horse boy who hates me.”

Yuki sobered up at the mention of Callisto. “I don’t think he hates you,” she said, then sat up and adjusted her robes. “The centaurs aren’t stubborn because they’re taught to be. They really are just born that way. The herd are his people, and maybe it’s that you represent that part of him that’s always going to be different. He’s still a child and doesn’t fully appreciate that being different is a good thing.”

“I suppose so.” Mike looked at the door again, wondering where was Mrs. Claus. He had expected her to return in exactly an hour, but he had no way of knowing just how much time had passed.

“Should we leave?” she asked, noticing his gaze.

“No.” He looked back at her. “I suspect she’s still dealing with Kisa and hopefully Tink and Holly.” His familiar was thirty feet below him now, and he could sense her gratitude and contentment, which likely meant that Mrs. Claus was feeding her as well. He had tried to communicate a couple of times, but Kisa had been too distracted to sense him. “Telepathy would be really nice right about now,” he told her.

“Then maybe you should find a telepath to fuck.” She winked at him and stood. “So how does this work? Can you summon ice magic now?”

“Hmm?” Realizing that she was asking about his ability to swap souls, he shrugged. “Oh, right. No idea, it isn’t always obvious. Would be nice if it was.”

“I see.” She stretched and walked across the room. “Do you think visualizing magic was the trade off?”

“Can’t be. We hadn’t, um, finished yet.” He had told her about the weird tendrils he had seen. In fact, with a bit of concentration, he could see an aura surrounding Yuki. It sparkled like a diamond and changed colors depending on how she stood. “My best guess is that maybe it’s from Christmas Present.”

“Interesting.” She lowered her head in thought. “I guess it would make sense, sort of. Christmas Present can see everything that happens around Christmas day, all at the same time. Do you think that means you can only do it on Christmas?”

“No idea. Will probably experiment with it later when I don’t feel so burned out.” The meal and rest had refreshed him, but his body ached. Even though he had never run a marathon, he assumed how he felt now was comparable.

“Should probably put a condom on, first,” she replied. “In case you make yourself come again.”

“Ha ha, very funny. I’ll know better next time.” He shook his head at the memory of pulling his magic back inside of him. In hindsight, he should have known better. “Being turned into a cum fountain is a party trick I don’t feel like repeating.”

“Yeah, my sinuses are still out of whack from it.” She snorted for emphasis just as the door to their room opened. Mrs. Claus stood there with her hands on her hips, then walked inside for a look around. She said nothing for several moments as she inspected the room, then nodded.

“I suppose dessert is in order after all,” she declared, then looked at Mike. “Some friends of yours are here. Why don’t you grab a shirt from that closet and we can all meet in the kitchen to discuss what happens next.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He watched her leave, then let out a deep breath. Knowing that he was off of Mrs. Claus’ shit list was a huge relief.

The closet contained several long-sleeved white cotton shirts with buttons at the top. They were vastly oversized, but seeing no alternatives, he put one on. While adjusting the collar around his neck, the shirt shrank down until it became a perfect fit.

Had the pants done the same thing? He hadn’t even noticed while putting them on. Seeing a pair of slippers at the bottom of the closet, he put them on and waited. Unlike the clothes, the slippers didn’t seem to have any magical properties. They were maybe a size too big, but kept his bare feet off the floor.

“Not bad,” Yuki told him. “I imagine Santa can’t have someone adjusting his clothes on the fly every time he eats too many cookies.”

“The guy’s got all those elves, I just figured there’d be a whole division devoted to tailored clothes.” He tucked the shirt in and gestured to the door. “Shall we?”

They left the room and found Holly standing outside. The elf sighed in relief when she saw them.

“Kisa said you’d be here,” she said. “Though we were a little worried about what shape you’d be in. Mrs. Claus said you were fine, but she seemed upset.”

“I’d say it was just a misunderstanding, but we didn’t get off on the right foot. Our arrival was a bit ... tumultuous.”

Holly nodded. “Ours, too. We crashed a reindeer through one of the skylights. The Krampus beat us here and was too preoccupied with banging on the front door to see our approach. Mrs. Claus wasn’t mad, though, she was pretty happy to see us.”

“Mike rode in on the ghost of Christmas Present,” Yuki offered. “I won’t bore you with the other details.”

“You saw the ghost?” Holly stopped and turned around to face them. “We met Christmas Past, but they were so damaged.”

“Christmas Present was on the fence, but Mike was very convincing.” Yuki winked.

“Oh, thank Santa.” Holly put her hands together and sighed in relief. “That is great news. What about the ghost of Christmas Future?”

“Uh...” Mike looked over at Yuki. “That’s one we haven’t dealt with yet.”

“Oh.” Holly took them to a spiral staircase carved out of wood. It wrapped tightly around a central column with decorations carved into it. He recognized a lot of the decor as pagan in nature, but didn’t know much else about it. “I hope he doesn’t show up here. He’s the scariest.”

“What does he look like?” Mike asked.

“Kind of like your friend, Death,” she replied. “Only way more intense. He sees everything that could happen to you, which is his gift. But seeing a near infinite number of futures every time he meets someone ... we think it’s part of the reason he doesn’t talk. His mind is just so busy filtering information that he barely exists in the present.”

Mike frowned, wondering at the implications. How could he battle a foe capable of seeing the future? Were the spirits’ powers limited only to the time around Christmas? It was something that bore consideration.

At the bottom of the stairs was a doorway that opened into an enormous kitchen. Modern day stainless steel appliances clashed with the root-like structure of the room’s framing. If he didn’t know better, Mike would believe he was actually below a giant tree.

The large kitchen island was big enough to seat ten, but its only occupants were Kisa and Tink. Both of them jumped down from their seats and nearly knocked Mike over with their hugs.

“Asshole,” Kisa muttered. Tink didn’t bother with words. Instead, she bit his side through his shirt.

“I missed you, too.” He hugged them both affectionately. “I’m glad you’re safe.”

“Tink too smart for frosty bi—”

“AHEM!” This was from Mrs. Claus, who emerged from a nearby pantry with a large pie in her hands. “Language, dear.”

Tink scowled. “Tink want pie, tell husband later.”

Mike laughed, then followed them back to the counter. He took a seat and Tink scrambled onto the chair next to him. Kisa sat on the other side, leaving Holly and Yuki to sit on the edges.

“And here we go.” Mrs. Claus set the pie on the counter next to a knife. A stack of plates and forks had been set nearby, which Kisa passed out. The top of the pie was adorned with thick strips of crisply cooked dough, revealing a mixture of berries inside. “It’s been chilled already, so you don’t have to wait.”

Tink scooped up the knife and deftly sliced it into five equal pieces.

“I don’t know that I can eat that much pie,” Mike told her as she used a fork to remove the first piece.

“Husband make room. Best pie ever.” Tink placed the pie on Mike’s plate. “Everything nice woman makes tastes so good.”

“I’ve got plenty of practice,” Mrs. Claus admitted with a smile. “There isn’t a whole lot else I get to do up here.” She opened her mouth to say something else, but was interrupted by a loud banging sound from above.

“What is that?” Mike asked.

“That would be the Krampus. He is very upset that you all are here.” She leaned forward, the low cut apron revealing a ton of cleavage. It looked more like something a sexy maid would wear. “But he doesn’t dare come inside.”

“Why is that?” Mike asked. He waited for Tink to finish splitting up the pie, then took a bite. The crust was buttery and melted on his tongue, and the berries were a type he’d never had before. They started tart, then turned sweet in his mouth. “This is really good,” he admitted.

“Thank you. As to the Krampus...” She sighed and pulled off her apron. Mike couldn’t help but notice that the flimsy garment expanded in her hands once it was off her body into something that looked a lot more functional. “I can’t explain it fully in present company. The information is quite sensitive.”

“There’s nothing you can tell me that they can’t hear,” he said, though he didn’t know if that was true about Holly. “They’re family. I trust them.”

“And I will trust your judgment when it comes to what you’ll share with whom later,” she said. “This will make far more sense once you hear what I have to say.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” He swatted Tink’s fork away from his plate. “You’re not even done eating your own piece.”

Tink hissed at him, then went back to her own plate. She tried to sneak a piece off of Yuki’s plate, but the kitsune burned the goblin’s hand with purple foxfire.

“You are a hungry thing,” Mrs. Claus noted. “You ate three helpings of dinner and still have room!”

“Goblins hate cold,” Tink replied between bites of her food. “Eat big meal, sleep all winter. Tink no time for sleep, but still want to eat. Get big butt for husband.”

“More cushion for the pushin’,” whispered Kisa so that only Mike heard her. He pinched her beneath the counter, causing her to bump Holly.

Mrs. Claus nodded, then slid Tink a plate of cookies that were hidden below the counter. “When you’re done with your pie, you can have some of these.”

“No!” Both Kisa and Holly yelled, then looked at each other.

“Just ... not cookies,” Kisa added. “She ate them until she was sick.”

Tink had already hooked a claw into the plate and dragged it toward her. “Nice woman’s cookies way better than stupid devil cookies.”

“Devil cookies?” Mrs. Claus leaned on the counter, her breasts nearly spilling out of her nightie. Mike kept his focus on what was left of his pie.

“The Krampus was making gingerbread devils.” This came from Holly. “It’s what he had the dark elves making.”

“Tink eat devil cookie. Taste like pepper and ashes.” The goblin stuck her tongue out for emphasis. “Spit out right away.”

“Hmm. That makes sense, I suppose. It’s probably how he subverted the reindeer.” Mrs. Claus stood and adjusted her lingerie. One of her nipples slipped free and she frowned before hiding it. “We’re very lucky that Dancer noticed them in her feed. They must have some other purpose, though.”

“I have to ask ... what’s with the lingerie?” Yuki leaned forward eagerly. Mike silently blessed her for asking, because he had been afraid to.

“An unintended feature of Christmas day,” Mrs. Claus grumbled. “The rest of the year, I get to be the happy homemaker. Baking, playing games with elves, spending time with my husband. But right before Christmas, it begins. The lingerie sales, the sexy role-playing by couples. Right now, the world has thousands of women dressed like this pretending to be me and my only saving grace is that Mrs. Claus is largely seen as faithful to her husband. Otherwise, I would be an absolute mess right now.”

“Is that why your apron looks different now?” Mike asked. “I saw it change when you took it off.”

“Good eye for detail. You’ll need it.” She tugged at the straps of her nightie. “This is actually a very comfortable sweater. Unless I go outside, anything I wear becomes like this.”

“Why outside?” Kisa asked.

“Because everyone knows that I would freeze to death without a good coat,” Mrs. Claus said. “While indoors, I am seen as the loyal wife, waiting to adore my husband with a slew of sexual favors when he returns. Outside? I’m clearly busy helping get ready for Christmas.”

“And the magic just keeps track of that for you?” Mike asked.

Mrs. Claus nodded. “It does. Sometimes the changes aren’t obvious right away, but I can always tell when a lingerie company launches their new Christmas collection. I have more to say about that, but it will have to wait.” She lifted a thermos from beneath the counter. “Hot cocoa, anyone?”

They sat and finished their pie while catching up on all that had transpired. The hot cocoa warmed Mike from the inside and the soreness in his muscles faded away. He wondered if the cocoa itself had some restorative properties, because he felt almost good as new. However, he could definitely use a shower.

Tink finished off her pie, what was left of Kisa’s pie, and a plate of cookies. Patting herself on the belly, she pushed her stool against Mike’s and leaned her head on his arm. It wasn’t long before she snored softly in his embrace.

With the food finished, the group moved out into the main room while Holly left to do the dishes for Mrs. Claus. A massive fireplace sat at the center of the room with flames visible from every side. The chimney rose through the middle of the room only to vanish several stories up. Bookshelves lined the walls of this floor, and a cursory inspection revealed that most of the books weren’t Christmas related at all. It looked like Santa or his wife were huge Tom Clancy fans, but the bulk of the collection was Young Adult fiction, though there were some scattered romance collections.

Next to the fireplace was a large loveseat and the biggest recliner Mike had ever seen. He set Tink on the recliner and covered her up with a blanket. Kisa pulled a book from one of the shelves and curled up next to the goblin. Tink belched, and Kisa made a face.

“Seriously,” she said, her eyes watering. “Stop letting her eat sweets. That smells awful.”

“It’s Christmas day, sweetie.” Mrs. Claus handed Kisa a mug of cocoa and a sandwich. Mike had no idea when the woman made it. “You really should eat more, you’re far too skinny.”

“But I...” Kisa inspected the sandwich and sighed. “Yes, ma’am.”

“You, too.” Mrs. Claus picked up a platter of sweets that had been sitting on an end table and handed them to Yuki. “Whatever you don’t eat is going to Dancer, so don’t feel too obligated.”

“How come she gets cocoa and a sandwich while I get more cookies?” Yuki asked.

“She rescued a reindeer. You ruined my bedroom.” Mrs. Claus patted Yuki’s head condescendingly then looked at Mike. “Shall we, dear?”

He nodded, doing his best to avoid eye contact with Yuki. The kitsune pouted, but still grabbed a handful of cookies to eat.

They walked to a locked door along the far wall that Mrs. Claus opened with a golden key. Behind the door was a stone staircase that spiraled down, and she picked up a lantern hanging from a hook by the door. It ignited by itself, casting a warm glow over the stairs.

“Where are we going?” he asked.

Mrs. Claus smiled and shut the door behind them. “You’ll see. This is perhaps the most important place in the North Pole. Follow me.”

The stairs were long enough for Mike to dread the inevitable climb back up. It also didn’t help that the narrow steps had him turning his feet, which made the oversized slippers shift as if they were going to fall off. Clearly whoever was in charge of Santa’s magical wardrobe had taken the day off when it came to footwear.

Several more minutes passed before they came to the bottom. Mrs. Claus paused before a pair of thick wooden doors held together with iron casings. She turned to face Mike, her features suddenly hard.

“Of the many things I show and tell you, the contents of this room must remain a secret from your friends.” She placed a hand hesitantly on one of the large rings. Mike watched as silver and red tendrils wafted from the door and curled around her, then flashed out of existence. Mrs. Claus didn’t seem to notice.

“I can’t guarantee that,” he told her. “Not without knowing what’s inside.”

She smirked. “I don’t think you understand. You aren’t being given a choice in the matter. Much like your beloved geas, the protective magic of this place has rules. Outside this room, the North Pole is built by the love and beliefs of children. Naturally, this effect extends to their adult counterparts, hence my current predicament.” She fidgeted with the lace along her collar. “But this room? This is the center of it all, unaffected by whatever happens out there. We have many things to discuss, but nary a word about this place in particular shall ever slip past your lips. Should someone read your mind, the memory of this place shall drift away from you like a dream until their presence is gone.”

Mike regarded Mrs. Claus. “If this room is so important, then why show it to me?”

“If my husband wasn’t on the verge of dissolution, we wouldn’t even be having this conversation.” She pulled on one of the rings, and Mike’s ears popped. He rubbed at them while both doors opened simultaneously as if by magic. Golden light streamed from the room, and he followed her inside, squinting in an attempt to make anything out.

The light vanished, and he found himself standing at the bottom of a large metallic cylinder that stretched nearly a hundred feet into the air in the center of a gigantic room. Adorned with red, gold, and silver ribbon in a spiraling pattern, the cylinder was topped with a sphere made of light that pulsed gently.

“What am I looking at?” Mike noticed that a structure had been built at the base of the cylinder. Moving closer, he saw that it was a circle with numbers along the edge that counted up to three hundred and sixty.

“Welcome to the North Pole, Caretaker.” Mrs. Claus shut the door behind them and hung her lantern on a nearby hook. The glow from the lantern expanded dramatically, revealing that the room containing the cylinder was spherical in shape. Several floors overlooked the center of the room, and he could see bookshelves, workbenches, and a ton of tools lying about. Everything looked old, as if he had stepped into a forgotten museum.

“Wow.” Mike walked toward the pole, but Mrs. Claus grabbed him by the hand.

“No closer,” she warned just as the sphere of light on top of the pole expanded. It swallowed most of the empty space in the room and formed into a replica of the Earth that spun around the cylinder. Green and red lights danced along the surface of the sphere, stretching all the way down to the South Pole. All along the planet, sparkling lights dotted the landscape.

“So this is where you can see everything,” he said, then found a nearby stool to sit on. A sparkling light hovered over the east coast of Russia drew his attention. “What’s that?”

“It’s the sleigh. I have no idea what it’s doing there, but am under the impression that someone is using it to deliver toys. Look.” She pointed at the base of the North Pole, which looked as if it had filled with fluid along the outside. “When those gifts get delivered, it replenishes the magic used to allow Santa to move around outside of time. The spell itself is incredibly powerful, it took Santa over a century to unlock its true potential. I was originally thinking of retrieving the sleigh and hiding it here, but the Krampus likely wants it for his own nefarious purpose. If they are delivering presents, it may be best to let them continue doing so.”

Mike nodded. It was clear that the Krampus had some sort of plan, but they didn’t know what. Maybe that was something worth looking into. If they could figure out what the demon was going to do, it might give them insight into how they could stop him.

“You should know that I have sent Christmas Present and Dancer to assist with protecting the sleigh. It looks like they are almost there.” Mrs. Claus pointed to a pair of lights that were moving toward the sleigh. “I’m not sure why they left the safety of your home, but that’s something we can worry about later.”

“I’m sure Lily will be thrilled for the extra help, especially because I bet that Death conned her into it.” He pictured her reaction to the amazonian spirit and grinned. “Death will be upset that Santa himself didn’t show up.”

“Perhaps.” Mrs. Claus found a seat of her own and sat next to him. “This is where everything began. For Saint Nicholaus, anyway. You see, once upon a time, he was called to the bitter cold of the north. The trip nearly killed him, but the call was strong. He found a doorway buried in the snow and it brought him here.”

“Who built this place?” he asked.

“The Architect. It was the last of its kind that was built, but the first one of its kind on Earth.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Mike said, turning toward her, his mind racing. Was this place part of the Great Game? “From what I understand, my house was built maybe two centuries ago and Santa has been around way longer. There’s no way this place was created last.”

She laughed, her eyes actually twinkling in the lights of the magical globe. “Oh, I guarantee it was. You see, the Architect didn’t get their title because they could design magical homes that are merely larger on the inside. This place was their magnum opus, the hardest of them all to build. Woven together out of stone, wood, and the very fabric of time itself, it sent itself back centuries once it was completed. Honestly, I wouldn’t think about it too much. Anyway, the spot we now sit is where Saint Nicholas met the First Elf.”

“The First Elf? Who was that?”

“The guardian of this place, much like your beloved nymph.” Mrs. Claus smiled. “When you became a player in the game, they called you Caretaker. And when my husband joined, they called him Claus.”

Mike felt the breath leave his body. “Santa is part of the Great Game? I have so many questions!”

Mrs. Claus frowned. “I’m afraid that I can’t tell you too much about the game itself. There are certain rules that have to be followed when it comes to the game’s secrets.”

“But players don’t have to follow those rules, right?” He remembered the shadow’s claim about players in the game speaking with each other on a regular basis. “Santa can tell me whatever I need to know once I find him, right?”

She shook her head and took his hand. When she squeezed, he realized just how cold her fingers were. Looking up into her eyes, he saw that she looked older than he remembered. Was it a trick of the light, or...

“If he was still a player, then yes. But he died a long time ago.”

Confused, Mike pulled his hand from hers. “But aren’t we here to save him from the Krampus?”

Mrs. Claus took a deep breath and looked at the North Pole inside of the hovering globe made of light. With a heavy sigh, she patted Mike on the leg and tilted her head in his direction to look over the top of her glasses at him.

“Immortality comes with a price, my child. Allow me to share with you the price my husband paid so many years ago.” She turned to face him, straightening the hem of her nightie. “I’ve heard that a nymph awaited you when you moved into your home. When Nicholas first came to the North Pole, he found a very different creature waiting down here for him. We call it the First Elf, but only as a sign of respect. You see, it was definitely not an elf. In fact, it wasn’t even of this world.”

“Was it the Krampus?” Mike asked, suddenly breathless.

“What? No. You’re getting ahead of yourself, stop that.” She dismissed further questions with a wave of her hand. “It was a being from outside time and space, an amorphic entity that had been chained here to protect the most powerful property devised by the Architect. To look upon it was to risk madness, and if not for my husband’s sturdy resolve, it would have consumed him.”

“Wait, you mean...” Mike held his hands up in apology. “Sorry, please continue.”

There was a twinkle in the older woman’s eye as she nodded.

“This time, I believe your guess is right,” she told him. “They’ve been called many things over the years, these cosmic entities. Ancient ones, eldritch beings, abominations, doesn’t matter. The guardian of this place was the only thing capable of protecting it, and my husband accomplished the impossible.”

Mike almost asked if Santa fucked it, but knew better.

“They became best friends, as close as brothers,” Mrs. Claus said wistfully, her eyes back on the map of the Earth. “And that’s where all this trouble started.”

The mirror room was hidden deep beneath the Workshop at the end of a long stone tunnel. Glyphs came to life and burned with harmless flames as Jack hovered down the long hallway, her arms wrapped around her stomach. The trip was always disorienting, but she had no idea why. Nausea, dizziness, and even a touch of vertigo assailed her senses until she entered the room where the mirror was stored.

Santa was waiting for her, his hands pressed against the glass. He smiled as if happy to see her.

“Quit the bullshit,” she told him. The silver frame of the mirror melded into the marble floor, making it look like the mirror had sprouted up from the ground. The room had a harmless fog that clung to the circular walls. It would sometimes descend and cover the floor, but it stayed away from Jack, as if afraid. “There’s no way you’re happy to see me.”

Santa shrugged, then took his hands off the glass. He didn’t say anything to her, nor did he attempt to. Instead, he pulled a seat from somewhere outside of the mirror’s edge and set it down. With a wink, he sat in the chair and patted his knee, as if to invite Jack to sit and tell him what she wanted for Christmas.

She ignored him, pacing the room as she gathered her thoughts. She had come down here when the Krampus had been trapped inside the mirror, the demon speaking to her telepathically. Back then, the room had felt ominous, like a prison. The fog was constantly drifting across the mirror, sometimes obscuring the Krampus as he pressed himself against the glass.

It was here that the Krampus had given her the recipe for the potion she had given to Santa. Grýla had provided her the ingredients, gathered by her kin and the Yule Cat. It had been a simple matter to get one of the elves to slip it to him, but Jack didn’t see what happened next. The Krampus had assured her that it would weaken Santa enough that the demon could escape, but that was all she knew.

“So do you have anything to say for yourself?” Jack moved in front of the mirror and frowned. Santa just shook his head. “Really? The Krampus has taken over the North Pole, subjected your elves, corrupted your reindeer. It’s only a matter of time before he ... does whatever it is he needs to do to your wife. Christmas belongs to him now, which means you’re done, gone, finished! And you really have nothing to say?”