Book Two, Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine

“Is this the place?” Lena asked.

“The note says 15 Joyful Orchard Road,” Justing answered, glancing at the piece of paper before returning it to his jacket pocket. “That’s where we are, right?”

“Yes,” Lena admitted. “I just didn’t expect it to be so…”

“Ritzy,” Lucas finished for him.

Justin fought not to stare. When the owner of a corner store, little more than a gas station without pumps, had invited them over, he had assumed that they would all be crammed into a single guest bedroom in a cozy, but modest, house. The last thing he had expected was to find himself standing in front of a…well, not quite a mansion, but about as close as a house could get without becoming a mansion.

“There’s no point in standing around out here,” said Willow, taking Vixen’s chair and pushing it up the driveway. “Come on, let’s go in.”

“I expect everyone to be on their best behavior at all times,” Vixen said sharply. “Is that understood—Lucas?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Lucas asked, the plastic bag with his energy drinks clanging as they followed her to the front door. “Oh, doorbell dibs!”

He darted in front of everyone else and jammed his finger against the doorbell. The door flew open almost immediately, revealing a grinning Joyce on the other side.

“You’re here!” she exclaimed. “We weren’t sure if you were really going to accept our invitation or not. Come in!”

One by one, they stepped inside, and Justin realized the house’s interior was just as impressive as the exterior. The roof was nearly thirty feet high, and the entire back wall of the living room was made of glass, providing a perfect view of a twelve acre backyard with grass as green as any golf course’s. More couches than Justin had ever seen in one place were lined up like a parking lot full of school buses in front of a TV worthy of a movie theater’s wall. A nearby door led to a kitchen big enough for a restaurant crew, attached to a dining room big enough to fit all of that restaurant’s patrons. A hallway stretched in the opposite direction, with more than a dozen doors leading to more than a dozen bedrooms. No, double that, Justin realized. A walkway set into the wall above the corridor, which was accessible via a spiral staircase at the edge of the living room, sported just as many doors as the one below.

Behind him, he heard Lucas whistle. “Swanky.”

“Welcome!” Charlie greeted them. He had been sitting on one of the couches, but now he was rising to come meet his guests. “Did you find the place all right?”

“We did,” Vixen said, bowing her head to him again like she had at the store. “Thank you again for opening your home to us. I promise we won’t be a burden.”

Charlie laughed. “Course you won’t! No such thing as bein’ a burden during the holidays!”

“This sure is a big place for just you and your granddaughter,” Moryta said.

“It wasn’t always like this,” Joyce admitted, closing the door behind them. “Grandpa Charlie built this place so that our entire family could live here together.”

“What happened?” Justin asked, realizing half a second too late that that was none of his business.

“Life happened,” Charlie answered sadly. He touched one of the walls, as if he could still feel the memories of better times within the wood. “Some of them didn’t get along, and moved out to get away from each other. Others weren’t happy livin’ in a town as small as Derby Mill. Said there weren’t enough opportunities.”

“Which is dumb,” Joyce snapped. “Grandpa Charlie has enough money to support the whole family!”

“It’s only natural that people would want to provide for themselves, Joyce,” Charlie admonished her. He went back into the living room and sat down again. “Nobody likes feelin’ like they’re a burden.”

“But you just said—”

“Just because something is true doesn’t mean it always feels true,” Charlie cut her off with the air of someone who’d had this argument a hundred times before. “For a while, even after they left, were still able to get them all to come over once a year. They would come on Thanksgiving, and leave the day after Christmas. But then, little by little, that came to an end too.”

“Too far to drive. Too expensive to fly. Too long to not go to work,” Joyce huffed. The look on her face made it abundantly clear what she thought of such excuses. “Christmas is supposed to be about being with the people you love! Why even have a family if you’re going to do everything you can to stay as far away from them as possible?”

“Now, that’s not fair, Joyce, and you know it,” Charlie argued softly. “Like I said, life happens.”

“Life didn’t happen to me,” she argued. “I can’t think of anything better than living with my grandpa. Helping at his store, being an elf during Christmas. What else could anybody want?”

“Joyce!” Charlie said, more sternly this time. “Not in front of our guests.”

Her face reddened. “Sorry.”

“You folks can take any of the bedrooms you want,” Charlie said, settling back into his seat. “There’s food in the fridge if any of you want it, though I suspect the only thing most of you want right now is a nice, soft bed. You look like you’ve had quite a trip.”

“You have no idea,” said Lena.

“Thank you,” Justin agreed. He glanced at his friends, then back at Charlie. “Not to look a gift horse in the mouth or anything, but are you sure you’re okay letting a bunch of strangers into your house like this?”

Charlie gave him a long, hard look, and for a minute Justin thought he had stuck his hoof in his mouth. He could only imagine how everyone would react if Charlie suddenly came to his senses and kicked them out, all because Justin couldn’t keep his intrusive thoughts to himself. But then the old man nodded.

“I think I am, yes. I can’t say for certain what it is, but I feel a sort of…connection with you folks. As if I’ve known you my entire life.”

“You’re a very kind man,” Vixen said again.

“Joyce, make sure they have everything they need, will you? These old bones of mine need a rest.”

“Yes, Grandpa Charlie.”

Joyce let them choose their own rooms. Being reindeer, Justin, Lucas, and Willow were immediately drawn to the ones on the second floor. The spiral staircase they used to reach them seemed to fascinate Willow. Unlike Lucas and Justin, Willow was a reindeer born and raised, and when you grew up being able to fly wherever you wanted to go, stairs became a foreign concept to you. Justin was just glad she had the presence of mind not to float up to the second floor without thinking.

Justin’s room was plainly decorated. A TV—several times smaller than the one downstairs, but still bigger than anything he had ever owned—sat on top of a mahogany dresser facing a king sized bed. By the wall sat an overstuffed recliner, and a desk that would have been perfect for reading or doing homework. There was even a connected bathroom with a shower. Thinking about how the drains were going to look after a herd of reindeer got done with them made him cringe, but that didn’t stop him from wanting to soak his tired bones under the hot water anyway.

He dropped his rucksack on the floor, then realized with a jolt that he had completely forgotten about his saddle. Luckily, Santa’s charm had covered it up along with his fur and antlers, avoiding the awkward questions Justin wasn’t sure he’d have been able to come up with answers for. And speaking of the charm…

He tapped his finger against his badge, and sighed in relief as the illusion vanished. He hadn’t felt any different while wearing it, but it was good to his own reflection in the mirror again.

The face you were wearing before is your reflection, he thought. It’s only been a year. Have you really forgotten who you used to be already?

Justin frowned. He had long since accepted that he was a reindeer now, and would be staying that way for the rest of his life. And why not? It was a life that made him happy. But the disconnect that he felt between his current self and his human self suddenly struck him as…disturbing.

Before he could consider it more, a knock came from his door, and he hastily tapped the badge again to put the illusion back in place.

“Vixen says she needs to talk to you before you go to sleep tonight,” Lena said as he opened the door.

Justin glanced at Lucas’ door to his left, then Willow’s to his right. “Should I get the others?”

“No, she just wants you.”

Justin’s ears perked up in surprise as he followed his Rider back downstairs. What could Vixen possibly want to talk to him about at this time of night—and alone? His stomach rolled over inside him. Something told him he wasn’t going to like the answer.

Vixen, of course, had chosen a room on the bottom floor. Justin felt a pang of guilt he couldn’t quite explain at the thought of her sleeping so close to the ground, while he and the others were up in the sky, even if it was just a few feet above her. Still, he knocked on the door while Lena retreated to her room, and Vixen called for him to come in.

“You wanted to see me?” he asked.

The Elder sat on her bed, her wheelchair pushed against the wall where she wouldn’t have to look at it. She was back in her true form, so once the door was closed behind him, Justin tapped on his badge and lowered his illusion as well.

“I know you must be tired after that trip, so I won’t keep you for long,” she said.

“I’m—” Justin paused, fighting back a yawn. “Fine.”

“You know that this mission is going to be a dangerous one,” she went on, “but I doubt you—or any of the others—understand just how dangerous. Mari Lwyd didn’t become one of Krampus’ most favored servants for no reason.”

Again, the shadow fell over Justin’s heart. Part of him wanted to believe that after going mano a mano with Krampus and surviving, anyone less dangerous than the Lord of Darkness himself would be no problem at all. Luckily, the larger part of him knew that was stupid. He hadn’t beaten Krampus, he reminded himself bitterly. For ninety percent of that fight, Krampus had just been toying with him—and Justin had still been losing. It was pure luck that had gotten him out of that fight alive.

Technically speaking, he hadn’t even managed that.

“I don’t say this to frighten you,” Vixen went on. “But I do want you to be wary.”

“I will be,” he promised her.

For a moment, Vixen looked him up and down, her eyes thoughtful.

“There is something you could do to help alleviate some of that danger,” she finally said, speaking slowly as if she wasn’t entirely sure she should be saying this. “Both for you and for the others.”

Justin’s ears perked up again. “What is it?”

“One year ago, you proved not once, but twice, that you were capable of using a power that few other reindeer have access to.”

Justin’s ears drooped. Oh no. Not this again…

“You are a Lightcaster, Justin Flinchley,” Vixen said sternly, reading his expression. “This is a power too rare and too valuable to remain unused. I admit, that is primarily my fault, but with certain…” Her eyes flicked unconsciously toward the wheelchair. “…events, I haven’t been able to devote the necessary time to helping you realize that potential.”

Justin held back a groan. Lightcasters were the reindeer whose light was so powerful, they were able to channel it to use in battle. Vixen had done exactly that earlier when she had signaled Lucas to stop distracting the Yule Cat. Justin had used that same power in his fight against Krampus. It was the only reason he—and likely the rest of their group—were alive today.

And he still had no idea how he had done it.

“I don’t claim to have Santa’s Knowing,” Vixen continued, “but I do have hundreds of years’ worth of experience in fighting Krampus. And right now, that experience is telling me that we will need you at your full potential before this mission is over.”

“But I can’t—”

“You can,” Vixen interrupted him, “and you will. The lives of your friends may very well be at stake with this.”

Justin’s ears drooped even lower. Vixen had already tried to train him to be a Lightcaster several times over the past year, but the results had been…discouraging. He understood the concept in theory. Every living thing had a light. That light was made up of all the virtuous parts of a person’s soul. For some people, that light shone so brightly that it could manifest in the physical world and be used to drive back the creatures that thrived in the Darkness. But understanding how it worked and being able to use it were two entirely different things. Both of the times he had done so, it had been entirely instinctive. Whenever he tried to reproduce it consciously, he never had anything to show for it other than a cold nose and a wounded ego.

Justin’s face must have been an open book, because Vixen said, “The first thing you have to do is stop doubting yourself. Faith and belief are a big part of controlling your light. Stop convincing yourself that you can’t do it, and you’ll be surprised by how quickly you’ll find out that you can. Understand?”

“I…” Justin hesitated, the lie already on the tip of his tongue, and then sighed and shook his head. “No.”

“Spend some time thinking about it,” she told him. “But wait until tomorrow. We have a very busy day ahead of us, and you look tired.”

Justin nodded and headed for the door. She was right about one thing: he was exhausted. But he knew that he would have a hard time getting to sleep, with everything she’d just said echoing in his head all night long.

This is fine, he thought anxiously, shutting her door behind him. I just have to learn the reindeer equivalent of brain surgery overnight. And if I don’t, my friends might die! So no pressure.

No pressure at all.