Crimson Overcoat Versus Christmas, Page 2

looking for and pulled it from the cabinet. He turned to face the dwarf with a hammer of his own. The handle was double wrapped in orange safety tape. The head was little more than a crude cube of iron shaped by brute force. A smiley face was painted in yellow on the business end.

  The dwarf charged again. He swung his hammer with both hands over his head like he was trying to drive a giant nail into the ground. Alexander dodged and attacked simultaneously in an almost liquid maneuver. The dwarf smashed the ground hard enough to knock the books off the shelves in the entire room. Alexander swung his cold iron hammer in a swift blow to the dwarf’s spine. Bones shattered and the dwarf howled in pain.

  The dwarf lay still, wincing in pain. Alexander drew his ray gun and stepped away from the creature, never taking his eye off of the now wheezing warrior.

  “It is rare that one of Kringle’s mercenaries is bested in single combat,” said Holly as she came out from the back room.

  “Wait, did you say Kringle?” asked Alexander. “As in Kris? Jolly Old St. Nick? Santa, the man in red, Father Christmas, all that?” he finished.

  “The Master has many names in this world,” said Holly.

  “That makes you one of Santa’s elves?” he said, still incredulous. “And that whatever reason you came here looking for a Champion was reason enough for Claus to send a berserker dwarf assassin to stop you? “ finished Alexander.

  “Yes, as you would understand it, that is the case.”

  “Finish me, human. You dishonor yourself by hesitating,” growled the dwarf from the ground.

  “Quiet. The grownups are talking,” said Alexander.

  While Holly and Alexander spoke, the dwarf reached into a pouch on his belt. He thumbed a small mechanical switch connected to a dwarvish machine embedded in his leg. The mercenary vanished in a flash and a puff of sulfurous smoke.

  “Shit,” cursed Alexander.

  “You should have killed him when you had the best of him,” said Holly.

  “Too much paperwork,” said Alexander. “Insurance is going to have a fit over this anyway.”

  “Don’t go anywhere,” said Alexander to Holly as he walked to the door, picking up the office phone on the way. Something on the frame had caught his eye. As he dialed, he pulled a small brass box off of the wood. It was a complex mass of clockwork, crystals and brass. It appeared that it was what cracked the wards. He put it into his pocket and waited for the phone to pick up.

  “Hello?” said a female voice on the other end.

  “Kristina, it’s Alexander. I know it’s the holidays and all, but we’ve had some issues at the office and I need you to come in right away and wait for maintenance. It will be time and a half. The boss won’t mind.” said Alexander.

  “I’m in the middle of Christmas shopping and the kids are out of school. My arms are full of bags as we speak,” she replied.

  Alexander continued talking as he walked over to the broken cabinet. He pulled out a canvas go-bag that he kept packed and ready at all times.

  “Bring the kids. They can help clean up. It’s a real mess,” said Alexander in a gross understatement.

  “What happened?” Kristina asked.

  “I’ll tell you later. I’ll be out of touch for a while. Big job that just came up. Just get here, please. I’ll get you and your old man something extra nice for Christmas, and I will owe you big. Please come in,” he pleaded.

  “Alright, you divot-chinned charmer. We’ll be in as soon as we can,” Kristina said as she hung up.

  “May I speak now?” asked Holly.

  “Yes,” said Alexander.

  “Does this mean that you will accept our offer to act as Champion?” she asked.

  “Yep. Ever since Gimli kicked down the door, I’ve been tits deep in your little game. That’s why I hate this mythological spirit world bullshit, Holly. Once you get wrapped up, it’s never over until you see it through. Stupid cosmic bureaucracy bylaws. So we’re headed out, you and me. You can fill me in on the rest of the details as we travel. Where are we going, or do I even need to ask?” Alexander said, knowing the answer before she said it.

  “We’re going to the North Pole, of course.” said Holly without a hint of irony.

  Twenty minutes and a wet drive on the interstate later Alexander and Holly pulled up into the dirt lot that she had directed them too. A broken and faded road sign advertised the “Kristmas Kingdom” promising self cut trees and family fun. The lot was massive and long since closed. Rows of full size pine trees stood silent. A chain link fence locked with a chain and deadbolt circled the 40 acres of forest that used to be a tree lot.

  The pair dismounted. Holly led them to the locked fence.

  “The way is through here. Please follow me so you don’t find yourself lost,” she said. She then scrambled up and over the chain link fence and landed without a sound on the other side.

  Alexander followed, clearing the fence in a single leap without touching it. His boots squished in the sand and mud pine needles on the other side. Holly walked into the woods and Alexander followed. The trees were large and strong, cultivated and then set free. The scent of fresh pine permeated the air. In its heyday, this lot must have been the “Family Holiday Fun Destination” it claimed to be.

  The temperature began to drop as they walked. It had also started to snow. The woods were silent, footsteps muted by the thick layer of pine needles over sandy soil. Holly would stop every now and then, feeling some unseen current, and change directions. They ambled through the woods at what seemed to be random patterns. Alexander almost never went to other dimensions or planes on purpose so he had little clue as to how they were supposed to get to the North Pole from here.

  It was cold now. Alexander was unaffected by normal cold temperatures. It had to be far below zero for him to become bothered by it. The snow was also coming down harder. Visibility was getting bad. Snow covered the ground. It was odd how he hadn’t noticed the change. It bothered him how easy it was to slip out of one world into another.

  The trees became larger and further spaced and the snow was now several feet deep. It also grew darker even though it was just past noon. The world felt ethereal, shapes and colors out of a half-remembered dream. Scents carried memories of past holidays, amalgams of experiences. Some belonged to Alexander, others were never his. It all reminded him of how much he hated the spirit world.

  “We are almost to Messestadt,” said Holly. “From there we can arrange passage further North.”

  Orange and gold lights became visible a few minutes later. A snow covered road lit by gaslights wove through the woods. Holly and Alexander walked in the wheel tracks left by sledges that had passed through. As they neared town Alexander found himself staring in wonder. Childhood memories welled up without being beckoned by the sight of the village ahead of them.

  Messestadt looked to Alexander like Charles Dickens and Norman Rockwell got together, took a heroic dose of magic mushrooms and designed a town. Cobbled streets were filled with more or less human looking people going about their holiday business. Wreaths and red bows hung from the gaslights. Red brick buildings lined winding streets, where urchins hurled snowballs at unsuspecting sweethearts stealing a kiss. But the saccharine sweetness was dulled by the menace of the surrounding forest. The trees grew oppressive, and the storm grew worse the further one got from town.

  “I feel like I’m in a Coca-Cola ad,” remarked Alexander as the two walked down the sidewalk of Main Street. People mostly ignored the pair as they went about their business.

  Holly led them through a series of alleyways. They were festive and sinister at the same time, the dark side of holiday celebration. A group of young men jostled the two as they sang a filthy drunken carol that Alexander had never heard before. Behind a trash can, an anthropomorphic rat in Dickensian garb robbed a pair of pixies at knifepoint. He hurried on, eyes forward, determined not to get in any deeper than he already was.

  They stopped at a small shop tucked into a dead end street. T
he window was dirty with accumulated coal soot and snow. The writing on the door was in an odd script that Alexander didn’t recognize. He thought of Gretchen, who would be having fits of joy at the weirdness of the whole adventure. Alexander had been around long enough to know to ask as few questions as possible. Take what you saw at face value and everything would come out peachy.

  Holly rapped the door with her knuckles. After a few moments a mechanical iris opened up revealing smoky red glass that glowed from within. The iris shut, and the door opened.

  “Please, do come in,” said a stooped, ancient man wrapped in a fur robe and wearing a decaying garland on his head.

  The inside of the shop was filled with odd mechanical devices and toys of all shapes and sizes. Some were new, others ancient, and all in various states of disrepair. Alexander scanned the shelves while the Holly and the old man exchanged greetings. They spoke in a lilting musical tongue and embraced after a quick exchange. Holly removed her hood revealing her head of full dark red hair.

  “Alexander, this is Carnot. He will help us get to the North safely,” said Holly.

  “In due time,” said Carnot. “First, a cup of hot tea, perhaps some schnapps, and I shall discuss some things with your Champion. I am certain that you have many unanswered questions. I will answer them to the best of my knowledge. Please, come,” Carnot said as he led them into a small apartment in the back of the shop.

  The two elves sat on ornate wooden stools while Alexander kneeled at the small table. He felt like a giant in the small quarters. The old man shuffled about the kitchen, deft wrinkled hands moving like lightning as he prepared what amounted to a small feast in a few minutes.

  With the table set, Carnot and Holly began to eat. Before Alexander touched anything on the table, he reached into a pocket hidden in his overcoat. In there was a small totem, a small clockwork device that served no purpose other than to tie him to the mundane world. He had been tossed about through space and time one too many times throughout his long years. He had the time-space anchor built for him by a very powerful magician in the mid-eighties. With the gears turning and the machinery beating slow and steady like a tiny heart, he felt confident that he could eat and drink without fear.

  After some of the best food he had in years, the three relaxed around the table to talk. Tea and schnapps were poured and the fire stoked. The warmth of the fire and the powerful drink made the encounter more relaxed.

  “I was once indentured to the Yule Lord, Kringle, as Holly and her clan are now,” began Carnot. “Our people have worked for him for ages, long before he acquired the power that he has now. We enjoy the work. It is what we are made for. Kringle defended our people from the goblin tribes that roam the North, fed and sheltered us through the dark of winter, and gave us purpose. But he can be a cruel master. Those that fail him are punished with the utmost severity. He sees and hears near everything in his domain-”

  “You mean he knows when you’ve been sleeping, he knows when you’re awake? He knows when you’ve been bad or good?” interjected Alexander, a wry smile on his face.

  “Precisely,” said Carnot, “and he tolerates no one stepping out of line. He sends his enforcers to give warnings. He sets his demon on those whom he wishes to make an example of,” said Carnot..

  “Demon?” said Alexander.

  “Yes. Bound in chains and adorned with bells, Krampus is given free rein to torment those whom his master deems unworthy,” said Carnot.

  “I never saw that Claymation special,” said Alexander.

  “So how come you don’t work for the big man anymore? He sounds like a peach,” said Alexander.

  “I bought my freedom. I’ve always been somewhat odd for an elf. My skills as a hedge wizard are minor, but