Chapter 12

12

Jingle bells,

Elves always smell,

Of candy and chocolate.

Dancer heard the squeaky threat and shifted as she pounded up the steps and threw herself in front of Nanook.

“Don’t shoot!” she yelled to the ragged gang of elves holding the weapons.

Wearing a hat that had lost its bell, Ding-a-ling blinked at her. “Dancer?”

“Hey, Ding-a-ling.”

“How did you get here? Everyone thought you died in the initial assault.”

She shook her head. “I managed to escape and brought back help.”

Ding-a-ling grinned. “We’re saved. I can’t believe you managed to get FUCDD.” FUCDD being the Furry United Coalition Department of Defense. Their military branch.

“Not exactly,” she stated. “A storm blew me off course, and I ended up with the FARTZ, who currently have no way of getting in touch with any FUCs.”

“Then who’s that?” Ding-a-ling pointed to Nanook, who chose that moment to block her girly bits from view and glare.

“That’s Nanook, who is a retired FUCDD. The owl is Benedict, also military, and that other bear is Kira, Nanook’s sister.”

The elf’s smile fell. “You brought three people? That’s not even enough to handle the Yeti, unless you brought fruitcake.”

“We’re just part of the rescue team,” she admitted as she chewed her lip. Perhaps mentioning the fact they were so few could wait. “How is it you’re here in the barracks? I figured Krampus would have everyone sequestered in Gingerbread Hall.”

“Only the old and the very young. They’re holding them hostage to ensure good behaviour while we work.”

“Krampus is making toys?” She couldn’t hide her surprise.

“No. Krampus is converting the toy factories to make weapons like guns and bombs. Whereas the Candy Factory is now concocting some kind of potion.”

Her eyes widened. “What’s Krampus planning?”

Ding-a-ling shook his head. “No idea but it can’t be good.”

At Nanook’s grumble, she quickly asked, “Have you seen some children? They would have arrived yesterday. Krampus kidnapped them from the folks in FARTZ.”

A female named Hollybell stepped forward. “I saw them. They’re with the other kids in the hall.”

“Unharmed?”

“As far as we can tell.”

Kira, who’d been quiet until now, pointed to the gun. “Are you the ones who emptied the armory of weapons?”

“That would be Krampus. Confiscated every weapon in the village. This”—Ding-a-ling waved the pistol—“was part of my personal stash.”

“You said the adults were working, yet you’re here,” Dancer pointed out.

“Krampus has no idea how many of us there are. Some of the other elves covered for us so we could slip away in the hopes we could figure out a way to free the rest. Alas, so long as the old and young’uns are prisoner, we dare not do much.”

“We need to cut the head off the puppet master,” Dani stated. “Get rid of Krampus, then the wolverines and other creatures being controlled should revert back to normal.” AKA trying to eat them because they were hungry and not because someone told them to.

“That won’t be easy. He’s holed up in Santa’s house,” Hollybell informed.

“He’s got a walrus just inside the front door, a big mean one,” stated another elf whom she didn’t know by name.

“Then I guess we’ll have to find another way in.”

Nanook grumbled.

“Yes, I know you can take a walrus, but we’re looking for the element of surprise, remember?” She glanced at Ding-a-ling. “How else can we get inside?”

“The windows are shatterproof,” the elf mused aloud. “And the tunnel to the hall would obviously require you getting past the Yeti.”

It was Kira who said, “What about the chimney?”

Again, Nanook made a noise.

Kira snorted. “Obviously you won’t fit. Neither of us would, but…” Her gaze slewed to Dancer and Benedict.

Nanook shifted abruptly to state, “No fucking way.”

“Don’t be so quick to say no,” Dancer interjected. “You were the one who said if we take the head of the insurgent out, we win. If we can get inside, then Benedict just needs to shoot Krampus.”

“Not we. Bennie doesn’t need you to do his job,” he growled.

“But he could use the support,” she retorted. “Not to mention, I know how to get into Santa’s personal workshop.”

“It’s too dangerous.”

“More dangerous than escaping some wolverines, flying in a storm across the sea, crashing, running into a polar bear, taking a helicopter back across the sea, crashing again and almost freezing to death?”

He growled, but Dancer held her ground. “This mission is dangerous for everyone, but we don’t have a choice. Krampus has to die.”

“You think this fucker is going to stand still while you shoot? There could be more guards inside we don’t know about.”

“Which is why you and I will go knocking at the door,” Kira stated. “While we tussle with the walrus and cause a distraction, Benedict and Dancer slip in, handle the threat. If this Krampus is controlling the animals, then, with its death, they should disperse and we can go grab our kids.”

“What if there’s more than a walrus inside?” Nanook argued.

“Then I will do my best to not get killed.” Bravest thing Dancer ever said aloud.

Kira’s head swivelled as sharp yips and grunts of the enemy sounded. “We don’t have time to argue. Seems like the boys are giving us the distraction we asked for.” She glanced at Nanook. “I know you don’t like this plan, but we don’t have a choice. So, let’s give her and Benedict the best shot at success by reducing those in their way. So, brother, shall we go hunt us some walrus? You know I have a recipe for the meat.”

Nanook grabbed Dancer rather than replying, lifting her so they were eye to eye. “If you die, I will be very angry.”

“As opposed to…”

He growled.

She grinned. “Don’t worry, Nookie. I plan to survive. After all, someone owes me a kiss. Now, shall we go save Christmas?”

“Yeah!” The ragged band of elves cheered.

“We need to move quick. Ding-a-ling, I need a weapon for Benedict. And clothes.” Because she wasn’t climbing onto Santa’s roof naked.

The elves yanked stuff from the lockers. She and Benedict dressed quickly before taking the weapons handed to them. No one made any comment on how ridiculous they looked, the leggings barely reaching their knees and skintight, the tunics more like belly tops. Thankfully, everything, including the slippers, could stretch. The material was accommodating, if bright.

“Let’s do this,” she huffed, her heart racing with fear and adrenaline.

Nanook, back in his bear shape, gave her a long look before charging out of the barracks, roaring, Kira on his heels.

The elves surprisingly followed, singing of course. “Oh, come all ye faithful, elves will be triumphant!”

Dancer glanced at Benedict. “Ready?”

“No, but we’re going anyhow.”

They exited to an insane amount of noise, the raucous elves yodeling, the bears growling, and from in between the houses, the enemy came. Not many, thanks to Arnie, Rook, and Weaver having drawn some of them out of the village.

Nanook ignored the wolverines racing for him and headed left for Santa’s house, the only one built of stone. Only a single story, it sprawled, the interior large, as it accommodated both his living quarters and his original workshop before he expanded.

While Nanook charged for the front door, Kira whirled to watch his back as the howling wolverines converged. The elves lined up on either side of Kira, holding up their candy cane slingers, which they began firing at the handful of wolverines racing for them.

Dancer glanced at Benedict, looking as ridiculous as her in the very tight elf clothing. “We can climb the porch to get to the roof.” The railing was easy enough to get on top of. She’d hoped the walrus would emerge from the house to fight Nanook, but the door remained shut. Not for long, she’d wager, with the way Nanook kept barreling into it.

Across the square, she noticed the Yeti watching and yet not moving from their post. Not interested in engaging, or were they being coerced to stay there? Whatever the reason, it meant one less threat to deal with.

The railing proved slick, but Dancer managed to climb onto the porch roof and then turned to give Benedict a hand. His bum arm had less strength than his good one, but he managed on his own, grunting with effort.

As they stood to traverse to the rooftop, the Yeti suddenly visibly shook and stood from their post.

“Uh-oh,” she muttered.

“Looks like Krampus gave them new orders,” Benedict stated. “We better move fast.”

The fresh snow made the tiles slick, and they had to step carefully to reach the chimney, which then led to a new dilemma. The smoke rising from it indicated a fire burned.

Dancer grimaced. “Guess we’re singing our feet.” She glanced at her slipper-covered toes.

“Not necessarily. Help me.” Benedict reached down and scooped some white stuff and dropped it down the chimney.

Duh. “Good idea.” She joined him in dumping snow, with thick black smoke being their sizzling reward.

It stung the lungs and eyes. Benedict grimaced. “And to think I gave up drinking so I could do this.” He grumbled, but he still climbed over the lip first and dropped down. Only a dozen feet or so, but Dancer chose to brace herself inside the chimney and went down more slowly. She emerged from the smoldering damp hearth to find Benedict in Santa’s kitchen. A quiet place since the last Mrs. Claus died. Poor Santa. He’d had a few wives since the original Mrs. Claus, but whatever sustained him did not extend to his spouses and made him unable to have children.

The kitchen table held a mess of food, plates with remnants, containers opened and food inside partially eaten, dishes piled in the sink.

Benedict put a finger to his lips, as if that were necessary.

They tiptoed from the kitchen to the hall and held their breaths, as they could see the front door and the large walrus blocking it. The beast never noticed the intruders, too busy barking at the bears that came knocking. When those ferocious ice bears splintered the door, the chunky threat went humping outside.

With it gone, some of her tension eased. Benedict, though, remained stiff and alert.

The hallway had a few options. Washroom right across from the kitchen, the door wide open so they could see no one was inside. At the rear end of the hall was the bedroom, which took only a moment to check out, as its door also remained ajar. The big bed within had its covers rumpled but no one in it laying their head on a pillow dreaming of sugar plums.

The next room had no door, just an open arch, and Benedict peeked around the edge before he slid into the parlor with its coal-burning stove. A cozy space with books and a television from the seventies set in a big wooden frame.

He glanced at her and mouthed, “Where next?”

She sidled close and whispered, “Santa’s old workshop.” While the big man no longer needed to make toys, he still found a need for a private workspace.

Benedict glanced around the parlor with a frown. “Where’s the door?” he hissed.

“Hidden.” While Santa didn’t believe in having locks in the village, he did keep his workshop secured. Most likely because it held the vault with his bible of Good and Naughty Children, as well as the dust he made. Flying powder, sleeping tonics, and she’d even heard rumors he fabricated other things inside.

Only a few knew how to enter. Technically, Dancer wasn’t one of the privileged, except she’d happened to overhear drunken Rudolph boasting one day.

“Yeah, me and the big guy are close. He even gave me the combo to get into his secret room.” Rudolph had been trying to impress some woman at the time.

Dancer, while knowing she shouldn’t, had stayed to listen.

“He doesn’t use a key?” the woman questioned.

“Nah. It’s a puzzle lock based on the Twelve Days of Christmas. Only, the correct symbols don’t match the verses.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, for example, the partridge in a pear tree? If you press that icon, a trap door opens. The actual correct one to push is the cat in the oak one.”

“A cat?”

“Santa went with the things he liked more.”

Rudolph had gone through them, one by one, although Dancer had wandered off around eight, as in between his telling, she’d heard the moist lip-smacking as they smooched. Given her crush on the famous reindeer, she’d not wanted to hear the next more carnal act to come.

But she remembered enough to feel somewhat confident until she stood in front of the wall carved with all kinds of images. The twelve ones for the regular poem, but dozens of others. A goat in a tree. Two turtle doves, but there were also a pair of flamingoes and elephants. The latter being the correct tile.

She pressed the cat in the tree, then the duo of elephants. The first eight she had no problem because, as soon as she saw the image, she remembered Rudolph’s boasting, but on the ninth, she ran into issues.

“What’s wrong?” Benedict hissed.

“I didn’t hear the last four,” she admitted.

“So, we’re guessing now?” he asked, glancing at the wall.

“We know nine isn’t the ladies dancing. What other nines are there?” She eyed the wall.

“There’s nine chickens pecking,” he pointed out.

She frowned. “Santa hates chicken. Says it reminds him of turkey, which he’s not fond of.” With that said, she pressed on the nine giraffes.

“What happens if you choose wrong?”

She glanced at her feet. “We end up in a pit.”

Benedict’s eyes widened, and he took a step back.

She perused the wall for the tens next. Ten leaping lords could be frogs or sheep. Santa loved his woolly jammies.

Click .

The floor didn’t move.

Eleven was the fish dancing in the waves.

Which left twelve.

Not the twelve drummers. She glanced between the other two options. Twelve Christmas stars around a moon or twelve presents under a tree. Both seemed apt.

She frowned.

“Can’t choose?”

“Neither seem right,” she murmured.

“It’s a fifty-fifty pick, and we need to get this done.” Benedict kept glancing over his shoulder.

The sounds of fighting continued, but more surprising, Krampus didn’t emerge from the secret room. Even if Krampus weren’t inside, they needed access to the tunnel to reach the hall, to the Yeti.

She pursed her lips as she eyed the wall, wondering if she’d missed something. Her gaze went to the one tile that didn’t match the rest. A portrait of Santa’s first wife, smack-dab in the middle.

Before she could second-guess herself, she pressed it.

Click .

The door opened, and her jaw dropped at what she saw beyond.