Book Two, Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty

Back when he’d been human, Lucas’ family had never had enough money to go shopping on Black Friday, but even he had heard stories about the atrocities committed in the name of discounted toys, though he had always brushed them off as exaggerations. Scary stories meant to frighten kids into going to college so they wouldn’t be subjected to the horrors of a lifelong career in retail.

But as the floor shook beneath his hooves for the third time in less than an hour, he began to wonder if there might have been some truth to those stories after all.

“So, uh, we’re safe in here, right?” he asked.

It was almost ten o’clock Friday morning. Derby Mill’s mall had opened at six, but the flood of customers hadn’t abated in the slightest over the past four hours. Lucas, Tanraak, and Moryta were safe and sound—for now—in the food court’s break room, but the thin metal door barely muffled the chaotic noises that were coming from outside. Willow had stayed back at the Dawsons’ house to take care of Justin, while Lena and Vixen went out to try and find whatever clues they could as to where Mari Lwyd was going to strike next.

Lucas shivered as somebody let out a maniacal laugh, which quickly turned into a scream of agony. It sounded like a massacre was going on out there. He had thought he’d been given the easy job, but now that he was here in the thick of the Black Friday catastrophe, he was beginning to wonder if he might have been safer with Mari Lwyd.

“Joyce says we’re safe,” Tanraak said. He and Moryta didn’t seem to care in the slightest that the apocalypse was taking place less than twenty feet away. They sat in the corner, eyes glued to the break room TV as it played an old claymation Christmas movie. “Apparently they can’t pass any sign that says Employees Only.”

“I didn’t know humans could use magic,” Moryta said. “I’ve gotta say, the longer we spend down here, the more impressed I am.”

Lucas frowned and turned toward the door. Speaking of Joyce, where was she? She had left, saying she had to go get something, but that had been almost fifteen minutes—

The door burst open, and Joyce slipped through the gap before throwing herself against it, holding it closed with her weight. Something outside struck the door so hard it nearly threw her to the floor, but she managed—just barely—to keep it shut.

“WOBBLEBOTTOM TUSH PLUSH!” chanted a chorus of angry voices. “WOBBLEBOTTOM TUSH PLUSH!”

“I could use a little help here!” she called as the door lurched behind her again.

Lucas sprinted across the break room, the elves close behind, and together their combined weight was enough to hold back the greedy mob.

“What happened?” Lucas demanded as what felt like the entire wall shook, threatening to give in.

“I don’t know!” Joyce answered. She held up a bag that she hadn’t been carrying when she’d left. “Somehow they got it into their heads that I’d bought the last of some stupid new Our Little Bovines toy, and—”

“GIVE US WOBBLEBOTTOM!” the shoppers roared. “TUSH PLUSH! TUSH PLUSH! TUSH PLUSH!”

“I thought you said the Employees Only spell would keep them from getting in!” Tanraak shouted.

“It usually does! But Black Friday has been getting worse every year!”

Slowly, when it became obvious that they weren’t going to be able to get in, the mob dispersed, seeking stuffed cow butts elsewhere. Sighing in relief, Joyce set her bag on one of the break room tables.

“All right, spill,” Lucas said, folding his arms. “What’s so important that you’d risk your life in that crowd to get it?”

Tanraak climbed up Lucas’ back and perched on his shoulders so he could see onto the table better. “Were you buying us Christmas presents? That’s why people go shopping on Black Friday, right? What’d you get us?”

Grinning, Joyce reached into the bag and produced…

“Costumes!” she exclaimed, holding out the brightly colored shirt to Lucas.

“O- Oh.” Lucas blinked in surprise and took the shirt. It was green, with red sleeves and a floppy collar with jingle bells sewn into it. “And this is…what, exactly?”

“Grandpa Charlie is going to be Santa,” said Joyce, pulling out an identical costume for herself. “All of his helpers are elves.”

She produced a long pointed hat with a bell on the tip next, and Lucas felt a little piece of himself die inside.

“Okay, so,” he said slowly, “I don’t want to put a damper on your enthusiasm or anything. It was really brave of you to go out and get these. But…”

Joyce looked at him, nonplussed. “But?”

“But, you realize you have two real, actual elves here, don’t you?”

Joyce paused, and then her face went as red as Santa’s suit.

“Oh! Oooh, holy crap, I’m so sorry!” she said, quickly ripping the shirt out of Lucas’ hands and stuffing it back into the bag. “I- I didn’t mean to…is that, like, an insult where you come from?”

Still holding the jingly hat, Lucas put his fists on his hips. “Telling a reindeer to dress up as an elf? An insult? I’d be less offended if you called my mother a yeti!”

“Probably because his mom is a yeti,” Tanraak said. Still perched on Lucas’ shoulders, he bent over so that his head was hanging upside down in front of Lucas’ face. “And his dad’s a straggele. It’d be more insulting to me and Moryta if you dressed him up like—”

“Hey, Tanraak,” Lucas interrupted him. “I think this would look better on you.”

Then he pulled the pointy hat so low over Tanraak’s head that it covered him like hood.

“Mm-mmmph!” Tanraak protested. He stood up straight, the bell jingling frantically as he tried to free himself from his bright green cotton prison.

“So yeah,” Lucas said to Joyce, shoving Tanraak off his shoulders so he landed in a jangly heap on the break room floor, “I’m not dressing up as an elf.”

“Right, yes! I mean no! I mean I’m sorry!” Joyce stammered. W- What do you want to—"

“Hello?” Lucas waved his hands at himself. “Reindeer?”

“But you’re not supposed to let anyone but me and Grandpa Charlie see you like that!”

Lucas rolled his eyes. “Oh, ye of little faith.”

Before she could ask what he meant, Lucas changed. Joyce stepped back in surprise, her eyes widening as his body morphed right in front of her. His clothes disappeared and his hands hardened into hooves, coming down to settle on the floor with a pair of loud clacks. His face stretched into a fully cervine snout, and his back popped as it realigned itself to let him comfortably stand on all fours. A few seconds later, Joyce raised her hand to her mouth as a full reindeer stood at attention in front of her.

“O- Okay,” she said, wobbling a little like she was about to faint, “I didn’t know you could do that.”

“He’s supposed to warn people before he does that,” said Moryta, crossing her arms. “Sorry, Joyce, I know I’m already ugly as sin, but I need to make myself even uglier real quick. You should look away or you might throw up.”

Unable to deliver a stinging rebuttal in this form—which he totally had—Lucas bent down and swung his head to the side, smacking Moryta on the back of the head with his antlers.

“Ow!” she complained. “Ask your grandpa if he wants to mount Lucas on his wall. I’ll happily help you carve him up.”

“No, no, this is perfect!” Joyce’s smile almost split her face in half. Stepping forward, she reached out and touched Lucas’ neck. “A real live reindeer? The kids will love it!”

She began to run her hand up and down his neck.

Uh oh, thought Lucas. Maybe this wasn’t such a good—

Too late. His back leg began to kick, completely out of his control.

“Aww, you’re just like a giant puppy!” Joyce laughed. “Who’s a good boy? Who’s a good Lucas?”

I am! I’m a good—no, no, no! Stop it!

Lucas raised his head and snorted into her face. Rather than stop scratching, though, Joyce’s grin only widened, and she dug her fingers even deeper into his fur until he thought he was going to lose his—

Doo-doo-doooo, doo-doo-doooo, doo-DEE-doo-doo-doooo!

Lucas’ ears perked up as the familiar tune of Jingle Bells began to come from Joyce’s pocket. Taking her hand from his neck—Oh, thank Kringle!—she pulled out her phone and opened up a text message.

“It’s Grandpa Charlie,” she said. “He says everything is ready. Come on, the rest of us have to get into our costumes!

She had brought three other elf costumes in addition to the one she’d tried to force on Lucas, a big one for her and two smaller ones for Tanraak and Moryta. The elves, naturally, had no issue with dressing up as themselves, but it took Joyce a couple minutes to convince them why they still had to wear their human disguises. Santa’s helpers they may have been, but a pair of fully grown adults the size of kindergarteners was probably more than the denizens of Earth were ready to handle—especially with Black Friday already stretching their sanity to its breaking point. Showing off a little, Tanraak even managed to tie the shirt Joyce had expected Lucas to wear into a makeshift, but still festive, green and red bridle.

Then, bracing themselves for the worst that humanity had to offer, they left the break room.

The moment they stepped through the door, the Black Friday crowds slammed into them like a tidal wave of flesh and greed. The force of it was almost enough to knock Lucas off his hooves, and he had to stop himself from instinctively taking off. He was carrying Tanraak and Moryta on his back, and Joyce was leading him by his “reins” toward a cordoned off section of the food court. A small wooden stage had been set up there, only about six inches high, with giant candy canes and presents surrounding a big white armchair. Charlie was sitting there, dressed up in his Santa outfit, waving cheerfully to the crowd as they rushed this way and that on the other side of the thin stanchions.

“Excuse me!” Joyce was yelling, doing her best to force her way through the violent crowd. “Sorry, just gonna squeeze by—oof!”

A large shape slammed into her, and the next thing Lucas knew, a massive pair of sweaty hands had grabbed him by his antlers.

“WANT BUY DONKEY!” the man shouted right into his face, spraying Lucas with spit. “HOW MUCH DONKEY COST?”

“BWAAAHHH!” Lucas bellowed, startled. He reared back on his hind legs, spilling the elves onto the floor behind him, but he couldn’t break the shopper’s grip on his antlers.

“Sir, he’s not for sale!” Joyce yelled. She tried to pry the man’s hands free, but he just shoved her away again, and she fell to the floor with a grunt.

Lucas froze. Anger rose up inside him, and he locked eyes with the bargain hunter.

“WHERE PRICE TAG?” he was yelling. “WANT TALK TO MANA—”

Lucas lowered his head and charged.

“—GERRRRRRRRRRR!” the man howled as he suddenly found himself hurtling across the food court. There was a fountain in the center of the huge room, and Lucas angled himself toward it, his hooves pounding against the polished stone floor. People yelped in fright as they dove out of his way.

“I JUST WANT TO BUY YOU!” the man screamed, tears streaming down his face.

“BWAAAAAH!” Lucas roared in response.

They reached the edge of the fountain, and the stone rim knocked the man’s feet out from under him. Lucas swung his head upwards, and with a cry of terror the shopper was hurled into the air before landing in the water with a heavy SPLOOSH! The entire food court went silent, and Lucas realized that everybody had stopped their psychopathic shopping sprees to watch.

Probably gonna have a few people wanting to give me rabies shots because of this, he thought wryly.

Lucas waited until the shopper sat up, thrashing and spitting filthy fountain water everywhere, then nodded in satisfaction and trotted back over to where Joyce was still lying on the floor.

“Sorry,” she said quietly. “I should have—”

Lucas leaned down and gave her a quick lick on the cheek. Joyce froze, her face turning red. Then, moving carefully, he hooked his antlers under her arms and lifted her up off the floor.

Ha! he thought as he set her back down on her feet. Human or reindeer, it doesn’t matter. No woman can resist Lucas, la futura botella de pegamento!

He didn’t actually know what that meant. A doe he’d dated once had called him that. Judging by the tone of her voice when she’d said it, though, it was obviously referring to how suave and irresistible he was.

“You should probably wash that cheek,” Moryta said to Joyce. “You don’t even want to know where that tongue has been.”

“We really ought to get him one of those cones that dogs wear,” Tanraak agreed.

Lucas resisted the urge to give his Rider a bath in the fountain as well, and together they made for their designated spot. Slowly, the commotion began again as the wild need for stuff reclaimed its hold on the shoppers’ one-track minds, but nobody bothered Lucas and the others now. In fact, they all gave the brightly dressed group a wide berth, and they were able to make it onto the bright green carpet without further incident.

“Are you all okay?” Charlie asked, bending over to help the elves over the little plastic fence that had been set up around the stage.

“We’re fine, thanks to Lucas,” Joyce said, giving the reindeer a smile.

“I saw that.” Charlie reached up to pat Lucas on the neck. “Thank you. I underestimated how bad the crowd was this year.”

“Like I said,” Joyce added, “it’s getting worse.”

“I have no idea what I would do if anythin’ ever happened to my granddaughter,” Charlie said. “Today, I won’t have to find out.”

Lucas snorted his agreement, bobbing his antlered head up and down.

Charlie’s face split into a grin, and he clapped his mittened hands. “Well, now that that’s all taken care of, shall we get started?”

“Yes!” Joyce shouted, practically bouncing up and down with excitement. “I’ve been waiting for this all year!”

“Then it’s settled!” Charlie cupped his hands around his mouth and hollered, “HO HO HO! The North Pole is now open for visitors!”