Chapter 13

Liselotte

“Will you tell us why you’re in the Chancellor’s office? You are neither the Chancellor nor badged staff, so don’t try to pull anything foolish,” says the elf with sugar flowers in her hair. Did she snag them from the landscaping?

“I love the contrast of the grey flowers in your pink hair,” I say with a demure lowering of my chin. We’ve gone around and around about why I was in the Chancellor’s office. How much longer can I avoid answering the question? Telling her it’s my wedding day exposes Gerhard. Revealing the Chancellor’s offer or my special abilities will condemn me to a lifetime as Santa’s slave and Earth to Christmas every day. Even admitting I was one step from Krampus Village puts a target on my back.

“Thank you, but I asked you a question!”

“I’m sorry, I got distracted. What did you ask?”

“I’m not afraid to rough up a bitch. I may be small, but I’m an elf,” she says, pressing her fists into her hips and puffing her chest out. Asserting herself out loud like that means she’s had to prove herself repeatedly. My heart goes out to her.

“I see that you are,” I reply. She’s just like me. Women who want to be acknowledged for their competence on the job but also want to be recognized as feminine. How many times did I cry over receiving the wrong kind of attention over the years? I was bullied with back-handed compliments, sexual advances, sabotage of my list, and physical violence, so I knew my peers saw me. I bet this elf will be ridiculed for her flowers. “I take your invasion quite seriously, but I must compliment beauty when I see it, or I’m not living.”

“Are you living? I mean. Is Krampus Industries letting you live?”

“Is Elf Industries?” I counter. If I’m wrong, I’m in trouble, but I can’t help reaching for this elf whose lost soul looks so much like my own. “Somedays, I feel like it strangles my sense of self from my body until I’m nothing but a machine.”

“Yes,” she says with a dreamy look in her bright blue eyes. “My friend, Sunshine, gets all the advanced assignments. She’s up there hunting Krampuses while I’m down here—oh.”

“It’s okay, I’m not running,” I blurt to reassure her. Sitting in the security interview room next to the lobby is much better than being trussed up with the majority of Krampuses by the front door like Christmas turkeys in a grocery store window. With the frosted windows, the guards will think I’m tied to this chair if I stay seated. “I know what it’s like to be given a lesser assignment and know I can do more, but at the same time, not want to mess it up either.”

Funny how she gobbles up the lie I spit through my teeth. I’ve been the best of the best since birth because of my special ability. Curiously, this elf reminds me of Sally. Our friendship mirrors this elf’s with Sunshine. Sally has the same portal ability as me, yet she worked the food rations counter in the apartment complex instead of claiming a Christmas Eve territory. Why would she do that? Was she hiding in plain view? In this elf’s story, I’m Sunshine, while Sally is…

“I’m sorry I never introduced myself. I’m Liselotte. What’s your name?”

“I’m Dalia, like the flower,” she says, patting one of her hair adornments. The childlike gesture curves my lips into a smile until she grabs my hand for a handshake. I hope I never see the face I made at the shock—literal shock.

Electricity holds my hand in place while I would do anything to release my arm from the agonizing pain of our connection. Luckily, Dalia releases me before I succumb to electrocution. I don’t know if she forgot that elves can’t touch mammals—people, animals, or Krampuses—without zapping them with electricity or if she zapped me on purpose. The guard elves carry guns, but their little hands are the most feared weapons in the building.

“Why is Sunshine down here?” Dalia runs to the window when she recognizes her friend. I’m forgotten. Maybe her attention to detail is why she isn’t on more difficult assignments. “Look! Almost the whole elite team is gathering on the lawn.”

“Do you see anything out there?” I ask, leaning forward in my seat. While I don’t want to remind her I’m not secured to the chair, I’d love to see the Chancellor and Sally driving some doomsday machine to our rescue.

“Santa’s helicopter,” she murmurs. “I’ve waited my whole life to see him in person—”

“You’re an elf,” flies out of my mouth. She whirls around at my voice as if reminded I’m here. “How have you never seen Santa Claus?”

“He keeps to the Christmas Palace or the Nice List Vault. Workers, maintenance, programmers, and security elves like me don’t interact with him. While the elves are more inclusive than the Krampuses, Santa holds himself apart. Rumor has it he used to be a Krampus.”

“Really? Do you know the story of his conversion?” If Santa’s on his way, the danger level has escalated beyond what we thought possible. Rogue elves wanting Christmas every day is one thing, an orchestrated coup by their leader is another. The itch to portal to Earth makes the fur on my legs stand on end. Santa wouldn’t harm Gerhard, right? Santa loves kids—does that mean he loves people who work with kids?

“There are too many conversion stories to count. The truth is probably buried somewhere under the Christmas Palace. It doesn’t matter now. He’s one hundred percent elf.”

“No, no, no, not yet! He can’t be here yet!” A blond elf in a black-striped outfit whines as he bursts into the room. He collides with the front window and presses his face against the glass. “What will the Big Man say when he finds I can’t break a human?”

“Won’t he be happy you found the human? Seriously, Anise, you must look on the bright side if you ever want to be promoted. Sergeant Sugars hates your dreary outlook on life.”

“It’s Star Aneese , not Anise…not after everyone started calling me Anus. And I’m not pessimizing, I’m truly fucked! No matter what I do to him, the human laughs in my face,” Star Anise stops his tirade to bang his forehead on the wall. “Pain, electricity, sodomy, nothing fazes him. Quick—Krampus Lady—how do you punish a human on the naughty list? Please save me from Santa’s wrath…they will demote me to making glue or digging in the mines if I mess this up.”

Oh dear, I drew blood biting my lip to keep from laughing. Gerhard’s ability to act as a switch, coupled with his smart mouth, threw this elf for a loop. Now that I know he’s alive, my heart lightens. If he’s taken to Christmas Palace to be broken by Santa, I’ll reveal my ability to go with him. Together, we will escape to Earth, where Gerhard will help me hide.

The plan in my head straightens my spine, fortifies my strength, and warms my soul.

“You do know that’s why I brought him here,” I say to my new elf friends, leaning over with my hand beside my mouth. They lean forward too, as if I share hot gossip I don’t wish the other Krampuses to hear. “Gerhard’s son was on my list, but the father was too naughty to ignore. As you know, we don’t have jurisdiction over adults—” I wait for them to nod along “—so I brought the matter to the attention of the Chancellor. That’s why I was in his office.”

“You fell in love with the naughtiest of them all. Didn’t you, Liselotte?” The booming voice behind me could only be Santa Claus.

“Krampuses are magnets for all things naughty,” I say, crossing my legs and fixing my posture. I have no hope of outwitting Santa Claus, do I? Will he catch on that I’m stalling him until a Krampus can rescue Gerhard without self-sabotaging my disguise? What if Santa guesses I’m one of the three Krampuses who could make Christmas every day?

“And I ensure nice things only go to nice people,” he sneers as he enters my field of vision. Beyond him is a sea of wide-eyed Krampuses and elves in the lobby. I don’t know who’s more shocked to see him. With an operation as large as today’s invasion, I don’t know if he could have stayed on his side of the Sea of Faith.

His giant, black boots leave sugary footprints and cracks in the floor as he stomps. Whoever started the rumor of a rotund, jolly man never met this iteration of Santa. The Lead Elf has muscles rivaling Gerhard’s but stands as tall as Eugene. His silver hair is tied at the nape of his neck as if to emphasize his sharp facial features. A scar bisects his eyebrow while another mars his top lip. As he spins a chair to sit backward upon it, he flashes the shoulder holster full of four pistols beneath his red velvet coat.

“Do my looks surprise you, Liselotte? Or are you sizing up your next silver-haired conquest?”

“I wondered where you lost your hat. The depictions of Santa I’ve seen all have a red-pointed hat topped with a cute puff.”

“Puff?”

The incredulous expression on his face reduces the severity of his vibe to manageable levels. I make a gesture of squeezing a puff ball over my head. His eyes widen further as if he’s trying to ascertain whether I’m separated from the others because I’m special and useful or because I’m unhinged and dangerous.

Anise and Dalia inch their way toward the door to escape without detection. Why don’t they take this opportunity to make contact with their leader? Are they afraid of Santa? I’d never fear the Chancellor, but elf culture seems to be one happy family—bonded through a fear of their leader. Are they happier with their community, as Gerhard often implies is true of humans? As I contemplate their actions, I keep my eyes off them. The least I can do is let them escape after they held me here without injury and kept Gerhard alive…although in what state, I don’t know.

“Yes,” Santa says with a maniacal smile blooming on his face. “I’ve misplaced my hat. Seems we’ve both lost our possessions in Christmas Town, haven’t we, Liselotte?’

“I’m sorry,” I reply, because there’s no way I heard him correctly. He jumps from his chair, knocking it over with a clamor. “I haven’t lost anything, nor do I wear a hat.”

“I stand corrected,” he says, bowing as he backs away to the far edge of the room. “You lost something much more precious than a trivial hat.”

He taps on the wall in a curious pattern, wandering to and fro, more searching than random pacing. There are no windows or doors on that side. What is he doing? His coat fans out around him when he turns at the corners. The wall crumbles slightly as he drags his hand along. Sugar grains and pebbles bounce toward me. His cheek makes a scraping sound to accompany his eerie humming.

“I have no idea what you’re looking for. I haven’t lost anything. Precious items don’t slip through my fingers,” I say with more bravado than I feel.

“Good girls shouldn’t lie to Santa.” His praise coats me like dirty motor oil.

“I’m not your good girl, nor do I lie to you.” As much as this maddening conversation pushes me to lash out, I must remain level-headed to decode his riddle. Krampus Industries depends on me to stall him until Sally and the Chancellor can rescue us.

“You forget, Liselotte—” he hums to himself before singing “—see you when you’re sleeping. I know when your—" I jump when he punches through the wall…

…and drags Gerhard into the room by his hair…