Top Elf

by Caleb Huett

  Celia thought for a second. “Take one present from each of them for the baby. They can’t stay mad at it; it’s a baby.”

  Buzz’s present was a kind of flare gun that could build and shoot fireworks. I fired a tiny one that spelled out I’M SO IMPRESSED! in bright green lights.

  “Okay, next one.” I flipped to a random page in the giant Santa Manual. Sally said Celia had no chance of winning without a copy, so it was her gift.

  “You go into the apartment of a married couple with two kids. They have a stocking up for their dog. What do you put in it?”

  “Nothing. It’s a dog.”

  I fired the red firework that said SORRY DUDE!

  “It’s amazing and beautiful that they love their dog so much,” I explained. “Put one of your emergency dog treats in the stocking.”

  “But what if I run out? Without those treats, a dog could wake up a whole family!”

  “Bring a lot of treats, I guess.”

  H.O.R.S.E., who was still sitting on our dining room table, lit up her eyes. “INSTALLATION HORSEPLETE.” A tiny compartment opened in her metal neck, and a flash drive spat out. That was Bertrand’s gift: a copy of the entire up-to-date Naughty/Nice database.

  “It’s a lot of data, but you might be able to use it for something,” he had said at the party. “Klaus will have access to it, so it’s only fair.”

  It was the day before Christmas Eve, though, and it had taken H.O.R.S.E. the full two weeks to download everything. So much for that.

  “She could at least update our map,” Celia said. “I can study her updates tonight. You should get some sleep.”

  I interrupted my own yawn to laugh. “No one’s sleeping tonight,” I said. “It’s the night before the night before Christmas. Everyone else is at The Workshop, even Santa. I’m not going to leave you alone now. We just need to get energized.”

  I pushed the only button on Kurt’s gift—a cube only a few inches tall. “Play a fun song.”

  “Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer” started playing, and I felt like I was trapped in a nightmare.

  “A different song.” It switched to something else upbeat and dancey.

  “I figured you’d need a good study soundtrack,” Kurt had said. “So I got you every song. It gets way louder than it looks like it would, too.”

  My phone and Celia’s phone buzzed at the same time. I checked mine first.

  “It’s an email to everybody in The Workshop.” My voice rose in pitch as I read further down the message. “Asking if anyone knows where Santa is???”

  Celia was reading now, too. “He’s missed four inspections, starting two hours ago. Last seen at the Stable. Mrs. Claus is safe, but she has to stay with the Wish Generator to make sure it doesn’t malfunction tonight, since we’re using so much power to finish preparations.”

  “We have to help. The whole North Pole can’t take a break right now, even to find him.”

  Celia nodded. “I won’t be able to focus on studying now, anyway.”

  We threw on our coats and shoes and headed outside.

  “I’ll start looking in town and check what’s happening at The Workshop,” she said. “You check the Stable and Claus Castle, deal?”

  “Deal.” We took off running in opposite directions. I pulled out my phone, found Crasher in my contacts, and dialed.

  She answered immediately. “ ’Sup, Cap’n?”

  “Are you at the stable?”

  “Nope. I’m helpin’ get the Big Nine ready for tomorrow night. It’s borin’, you know, but important. They don’t ask just anybody to do it. Life-or-death stuff.”

  “Oh. I was going to ask for your help finding Santa, but if you’re busy—”

  “Are you kidding? That sounds way more fun. I’ll be right there. Sorry, XII!”

  “You really don’t have t—” The phone went dead. Cool.

  I turned a corner on the edge of town and could finally see the whole Stable, all four glass towers even prettier at night thanks to lights shining out of the dome. I paused for a second to admire how beautiful it was, and Crasher slammed into my back.

  “Sorry, Cap’n!” she yelled, not slowing down at all.

  I was tossed up and over her head, onto her back. I wrapped my arms around her neck, and she lifted us up toward a tower entrance.

  “What’s goin’ on?” she yelled over the wind.

  “Santa’s missing!” I yelled back. “He had a meeting with Dreamer before he disappeared!”

  “Got it.” Crasher didn’t set me down when we reached the tower like before—she just yelled “DUCK!” and flew down the spiral stairs at lightning speed. I squeezed my eyes closed so I wouldn’t think about how much it would hurt if we crashed into one of the walls.

  We burst through the entrance, and Crasher tried to slow down before heading straight toward a clump of trees. I reached my arms up and grabbed a branch, pulling myself off her before she tumbled into the trees and flopped onto the tall grass between them.

  “That was amazin’!” she yelled.

  I let go and dropped to the ground—right in front of Maria Duende.

  “Hi, Maria.” I tried not to sound angry.

  “Why are you here, Ollie Gnome?” She thrust a microphone in front of my face.

  “I’m trying to find out what happened to Santa.”

  “Is that true—”

  “Yes.”

  “—or are you returning to the scene of the crime?” In her excitement, she pushed the microphone too far and crumpled my nose. I stepped back in surprise, and she gasped. “Seems I’ve caught you off guard! Weren’t expecting to be seen through so quickly?”

  “I definitely didn’t kidnap Santa,” I said, irritated that this was even being suggested. “And I didn’t sabotage Andrea, either. Everyone knows that but you.”

  Maria paused, and after a moment motioned for Seyi to turn off her camera.

  “We came here to interview Dreamer, but he won’t see me. He likes you, right? He gave you reindeer.”

  “Uh, I wouldn’t say that he likes me. But I think I know how to talk to him.”

  Crasher was finally fully upright and off the ground—we left Maria and walked through the Stable, which had a much different feel than it had the last time I’d been there. Fewer reindeer were around; many were probably at the takeoff zone helping Santa’s team, the Big Nine, get ready. The rest were mostly sticking to the ground and talking in hushed tones. They watched me and Crasher pass by and whispered things about us.

  It’s already spreading, I thought. They’re worried about Christmas.

  Crasher waited at the entrance to Dreamer’s grove, and I held my breath as I walked through the tree tunnel.

  “Why did the chicken cross the playground?” Dreamer’s gentle, regal voice began before I had crossed all the way into the clearing. I looked around; it was hard to spot him with his voice coming from everywhere. Eventually I found him, floating up high, reading a book nestled between branches on a tree.

  “Dreamer, Santa’s missing, and this was—”

  “To get to the other slide.” He turned and looked me directly in the eyes from way above. His face didn’t move at all. “Ha.”

  “Is that … a joke book?”

  “I requested one after our last meeting. I hated yours, of course, but I saw the potential.”

  “Uh … great! I’m glad you’re enjoying them.”

  “Yes.” He floated down and stared at me with his huge reindeer eyes. Nothing about his expression shifted even a little bit. “They are hilarious. For example: What happens when you cross a vampire … with a snowman?”

  I knew this one. “Frostbite!”

  Dreamer reared back in the air and glared down his nose at me. “You interrupted me.”

  “Sorry, I mean, ‘What?’ ”

  “Frostbite. Ha. Ha. Ha. Now hurry up and explain why you’re here. I don’t have time to talk to all of you.”

  “All of us?”

  “Yes. Com
plainer was here, then the Great Gift-Giver himself, and then Pesterer, the one who is like a fly, always buzzing those cameras in places she doesn’t belong. And now you. Must I entertain every two-leg tonight?”

  “ ‘Complainer’?”

  Dreamer shook his antlers and caught a falling ornament fruit in his mouth. “Yes, your friend. I believe you gave him that name.”

  So Ramp came to the stable.

  “What did he want?”

  “He told me Gift-Giver sent him to borrow three extra reindeer. I gave him the same three he used in the race. I mentioned it to Gift-Giver when he arrived for our formal meeting, and he knew nothing about it. You are such poor communicators.”

  “Do you know where he went after he left you?”

  “Of course not.”

  So that was it. I bowed, said thank you, and left. I didn’t tell Maria about Ramp—I didn’t want her to broadcast anything until we had all the facts. I hopped on Crasher’s back, and we set off toward Claus Castle.

  I checked the time on my phone—past midnight. As I was putting it back in my pocket, I got a text from Celia. Ramp’s sleigh is gone. It’s not in The Workshop.

  He has reindeer, too, I sent back. Santa told us to think about whether we really wanted it. Maybe he’s quitting?

  Maybe. No sign of Santa?

  Nope. Just now getting to Claus Castle.

  Crasher skid along the snow in front of the main doors, spraying snow all over the stick man, who had been snoozing on a stool.

  “Oh no.” He looked around, eyes wide. “I’ve been working more shifts lately—and I didn’t get much sleep last night—and—”

  “It’s okay, sti—wait, what’s your name?”

  “Karl Kobold.”

  “Karl. Did you know Santa’s missing?”

  His hands drifted up to his face, and he pushed his features around in surprise. “What?!”

  “How long have you been asleep?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t seen anybody, but—” He looked at the time on his watch and his face drained all its color. “A long time. I think the answer is a very long time. Oh no. What have I done?? Santa is missing, and it’s my fault!!!!”

  “It’s okay. Calm down. I know where we should check.”

  “I’ll wait out here, Cap’n.” Crasher glanced around nervously. “In case Santa comes back. I’m not really into spooky castles, ya know?”

  I walked to one of the side doors, and Karl followed. Claus Castle was a lot spookier in the dark. It was old, and the walls were covered with paintings that seemed to move in the shadows. Even the plush carpet felt too squishy and weird to be safe.

  “Ramp?” I called. Nobody answered. “Santa?”

  “Even the kids are out,” Karl told me. “Bertrand is with his mom, Sally’s at The Workshop … who knows, with the older boys. How long has he been missing?”

  “Almost three hours.”

  Karl nodded. “We can’t even call an official emergency yet. He could just be off working on his sleigh somewhere and thought we knew about it.”

  “Maybe.” I got to the reindeer statue on the staircase and turned it ninety degrees. The stairs folded up and revealed the other stairs, but the hole was so dark I couldn’t see the bottom.

  “Here you go.” Karl handed me a big, heavy flashlight that felt like a club. “Everybody on the security team’s got one of these.”

  “Thanks.” I clicked it on and pointed the light into the hole. Stone stairs, scurrying spiders, the hand-scanner snow globe, and—

  Oh no.

  Curled at the bottom was a body with no suit and a very jolly face.

  “He’s asleep.” Celia checked his pulse and breath. “He’s even snoring a little bit. Why haven’t you guys turned on the lights yet?”

  “Oh, right.” Karl sheepishly crossed over the carpet to the door and flicked a switch, lighting the big electric chandelier and several smaller lights around the main hall. With the lights on, Santa was obviously breathing—his body was moving up and down.

  “We shouldn’t tell Maria yet.” Celia gently shifted Santa into a more comfortable position. “Everyone will panic.”

  “I’m panicking!” I whisper-yelled. “What are we going to do about Christmas?”

  Celia smacked Santa’s face gently. “Santa, wake up. Wake up, Santa.”

  Santa just kept snoring.

  “Hopefully he’ll wake up by Christmas. Karl, could you call any Secret Helpers to carry him to his bed?”

  Karl nodded and walked away to say something into a walkie-talkie. Celia and I decided to investigate farther into the secret hallway.

  “The walls were already up when we got here, so someone’s been back here,” Celia observed. “Santa’s the only one who can open the doors, though. So did someone follow him in, knock him out, and then drag him all the way back down the hallway just to leave him there? That doesn’t make sense.”

  Celia walked ahead to the next room and froze in the doorway. “The Quantum Kringle is gone. And this room is a wreck. Everything’s been thrown around everywhere.”

  We immediately ran back down the hallway, where two Secret Helpers were lifting Santa up and carrying him toward the master bedroom.

  “So someone took the Kringle and Santa’s clothes, and then left. But they either dragged Santa back to the stairs for no reason, or Santa let them in himself and they waited to knock him out until they were on their way back out.”

  “What if it was Klaus?” I asked. “I don’t want to believe it, but … maybe he was worried he wouldn’t win. He’s been really mad at Santa lately, too.”

  “Or Andrea. I wouldn’t put anything past her at this point.”

  “Or anyone else who lost the competition and doesn’t think they should have.” I put my face in my hands. “My head hurts.”

  “It’s not going to do any good to keep guessing. I wish there were cameras.”

  Karl gasped and whirled around. “There are!”

  “Wait—really?”

  “Of course there are! I’m sorry I didn’t think of it already. Look!” He pointed to a corner inside the stairwell, where a little metallic glint shone inside all the stone. “I mean, this is where Santa lives. He’s got the best security team in the business! Even the secret rooms have cameras.”

  Karl led us outside and walked us around the back of the castle. He looked around the snow until he found what he was looking for—fake clay snow blending in with the real stuff. He pushed down on the snow twice, and it rose up, revealing a hatch in the ground. We all jumped down.

  It was a room small enough that we three elves were cramped standing in it together. Lots of monitors were all over the walls, showing live camera feeds of every inch of Claus Castle.

  “Somebody comes in and reviews the footage every day just in case, but we haven’t had a real security issue in … well, ever. Only real excitement we get is Kurt sneaking out at night.” Karl rotated us so that he was in front of the large keyboard, and he hit a few buttons to pull up the entrance to Claus Castle, where Karl was snoozing on the stool. “And I’ll rewind until we see something.” He pressed an arrow key, and the video started rewinding. Nothing happened for a while—so much so that it was practically a still image—until we saw a blip of something exit the castle backward and walk up to Karl. It happened too fast to understand, so he played it more slowly.

  Karl was awake. A figure totally covered in a hood and cloak walked directly up to him, held out a bundle of sticks, and shook them in Karl’s face. He immediately fell asleep.

  “It wasn’t your fault!” I said. “They put you to sleep!”

  “I smiled like I knew him, too. But I don’t remember that at all.” He pushed a button that switched to a camera over the main hall.

  The cloaked person twisted the reindeer statue, opening the stairway. At the bottom of the stairway was the hand-recognizing snow globe—he put his hand over it, and it glowed with a blue light. After the scan was complete, the wall ro
se off the ground.

  Celia frowned. “Santa said it only recognized Santas, though.”

  “Could it be Santa’s dad? The last Santa?”

  “I think he’s still in California. But maybe.”

  The cloaked person walked down the white hallway to the microphone. He took a deep breath and said something, causing the door to open. He walked through.

  “Wait a second. Go back.”

  Karl rewound a few seconds.

  “Is there sound?” Celia asked.

  “Yeah. Let me just …” Karl pushed a few buttons and clicked on a speaker. “That should do it.”

  Now we could hear the figure take a deep breath. He yelled in his best booming voice:

  “Ho, ho, ho! Merry Christmas!”

  Jingle bells chimed. A robotic voice said: “SANTA RECOGNIZED. WELCOME, KRISTOPHER KRINGLE.”

  “WHAT????” I yelled.

  “WHAT????” Celia yelled at the same time.

  “WHAT????” Karl was also yelling, I think. It was very loud in that tiny room.

  “Maybe we heard it wrong.” Celia reached over him and rewound a little.

  The robotic voice said, “WELCOME, KRISTOPHER KRINGLE.”

  Karl, apparently in shock, pressed rewind over and over.

  “KRISTOPHER KRINGLE. KRISTOPHER KRINGLE. KRISTOPHER KRINGLE.”

  “Kris is short for Kristopher?” I mumbled.

  “OF COURSE IT’S SHORT FOR KRISTOPHER!” Celia shouted. “THE REAL ISSUE HERE IS THAT KRIS KRINGLE HAS BEEN DEAD FOR CENTURES!”

  “I know!” I huffed. “I was just surprised, is all.”

  Celia tried to pace but the room was too small, so she just circled in place. Karl clicked for the video feed to keep going. Kris Kringle, I guess, walked into the private workshop and went straight for the Quantum Kringle. He grabbed it, tossed it between both hands, then lifted it up into the air.

  The snow galaxy within spun and grew until the snow started pouring out of the Kringle and whipping around the room. The snow created a strong wind that knocked papers onto the floor and tables over sideways. After just a few seconds, the whole room was the wreck Celia had seen a few minutes before.

  “Can it do that? Did we know it could do that?”

  Celia shook her head. “I’ve never heard about this. Santa said it was only an engine.”