Oh, yeah.
The guards took positions off to the sides so they wouldn’t obstruct the view of the oncoming party. He wanted the rebels to see him in all his glory. He considered knocking a hole in the ice and throwing one of the guards in it so the rebels would know that – if they pissed him off – they were going for a swim to the bottom of the ocean, baby. He decided against it because, as it turned out, his best guards were with him. If he’d thought of it earlier, he would’ve brought one of his flunkies for the demo.
There’s always later.
As the sun dipped near the horizon, Jack began to fidget. The time was almost up. He thought they would’ve appeared by now. Unless they were planning to arrive on one of those dreadful reindeer which, actually – when he thought about it – would be sweet. They’d trap the beast and have enough DNA to start cloning their own.
Jack licked his lips. He tasted sweetness.
“Party, advancing.”
Jack sat up, slightly disappointed to see a large sleigh. He realized his shortsightedness. He should’ve demanded they arrive on a reindeer, but, all right. That’s okay. The scientists were coming. He began laughing.
You can’t eat the cake all at once.
The guards looked at Jack and turned away when he growled.
The sleigh appeared to be self-propelled instead of pulled by a beast. No big deal, Jack had sleighs like that. They were energy hogs and Jack liked to have his six-leggers lead the way, so if those smarty-pants thought they were showing him up, then the joke was on them.
The sleigh was big and boxy and enclosed, just slits for seeing from the inside. It looked like a tank. Like a…
Jack stood.
They wouldn’t dare.
Jack liked sitting in an open sleigh. It was so refreshing.
But he was vulnerable. He could take a snowball right to the jibs if he wasn’t watching. He couldn’t take a chance, not with the other sleigh coming.
Transparent shields folded over the top and snapped into place. Jack was protected inside an impenetrable box. Nothing could touch him.
Better.
Now, if the rebels had a mental breakdown and decided to send a weapon instead of the scientists after he asked them so nicely, THEY WOULD BE SORRY!
The guards raised weapons. The sleigh-tank barreled across the ice, hitting an ice ridge and nearly flipping over, gliding on one track before regaining balance.
Jack called the six-leggers to stand in front of him. They would absorb the impact if the sleigh tried to ram him. He shouted at the guards to get in front of them. That thing would have to plow through all those bodies before it reached him–
The sleigh-tank heaved forward – the weight shifting to the front end. The rails slushed in the snow with an icy grind.
Slowly, it stopped fifty yards away.
The guards remained with weapons locked and loaded.
Nothing happened.
The sleigh was large enough to hold a party of scientists. But it wasn’t moving. It sat on the ice, waiting. It could be a trap, so Jack waited. And waited.
“PAWN!” Jack shouted through the transparent walls.
Pawn was out front. He looked back and Jack flicked his hand at him. Go see.
He took the guards with him. They advanced, warily.
The six-leggers growled.
One guard reached for the door. It snapped open and he jumped back, weapon quivering. Pawn shuffled closer, closer and closer; pushed it open with the muzzle of the weapon and – slowly, ever so slowly – looked inside. He poked his head in first.
Leaned in.
Then climbed inside.
“What is it?” Jack shouted. “What’s in there? TELL ME WHAT’S IN THERE!”
The other guards ran up to the door and looked inside. They leaned inside, too. The six-leggers were nervous, stamping the ice and puffing clouds. Jack wished they were attached to his sleigh. It’d be cool if he was, like, fifty more yards away.
He was sure the sleigh-tank ate them.
Pawn jumped out.
“Excellence.” He was out of breath. “Come see.”
“Are they in there?”
“No, Excellence, you just got to–”
“Wait, what do you mean… no?”
“Er, maybe you should come see.”
Jack stood on his toes like he might somehow get a better view. “Is it a trap?”
“No. I don’t think so.”
“You DON’T THINK? You’re a guard, dummy. Is it a trap or not?”
“You just have to look, Excellence. You don’t need to go inside, just peek in and look.”
Jack glanced again. He called the six-leggers back to the sleigh and ordered the guards to hook them up. They pulled the sleigh.
“Slower,” he muttered. “Slower, but closer.”
The six-leggers stutter-stepped ahead. Jack jerked back and forth. He slunk down in his chair. It was bigger than he thought. They pulled up alongside it and the shadow fell across his puny sleigh.
“Okay, stop,” he said.
The door was open and he could see now, but it was dark inside. All the guards had climbed inside – all ten of them. And Pawn climbed in next, swallowed by the darkness like it was a blanket of black fog.
Pawn’s hand emerged, waving Jack to come inside.
“Is it a trap?” he called through his hands.
“No,” they called.
They wouldn’t come out. Even after he demanded it.
Jack balled up his fists and bounced them off his thighs. If the scientists weren’t in there, his head was going to explode.
“All right, okay,” he muttered. “Stop being a little girl; don’t be scared. Don’t be scared; it’s just a sleigh that looks like a tank, that’s all. Go see for yourself, that’s all.”
Siiiiii-lent night,
Siiiiii-lent night.
Jack tapped the protective shield and climbed off his throne.
He felt naked out in the open like that, but the cold felt good. His lips moved while the song played in his head.
The tank was some sort of silver metal. The handles along the door felt good in his hands. He stepped onto the bottom rail and pulled himself near the opening. The darkness was thick.
He held his breath.
He stuck his head inside.
It was a big tank.
Even bigger inside. Almost as big as his room back at the palace. The scientists did a remarkable job of expanding the space inside–
Scientists!
WHERE ARE THEY?
It was empty inside.
Empty, except for a table with a little glowglobe that hardly penetrated the dark. Something was next to it.
“How do you think they did it?”
“Ahh!” Jack jumped.
He hadn’t noticed Pawn standing next to him, just inside the door.
Pawn waved his hands. “I mean, somehow they made the inside–”
“Shut up and go get that.” Jack shoved him at the table. “I’ll be in my sleigh.”
Jack was back in the comfort of his impenetrable glass room when Pawn came out. He jumped down and held it up.
A note.
It was a note.
Jack waved him closer. Pawn pressed it against the glass.
One word.
No.
Jack leaned closer and read the word. Over and over.
“All right. Okay. That’s fine.”
Siiiiii-lent night.
The protective walls folded open.
“Can I see that?” Jack held out his open hand.
Pawn gave him the note.
“Not that, dummy. THAT.”
“Excellence?”
“The weapon. I would like to see it.” He flicked his fingers while his skin darkened. “I want to hold it, so give it to me, now, PLEASE.”
Pawn handed over the paddle-shaped weapon, handle first. Jack ran his fingers over the smooth surface. When he squeezed the handle, it grew into a ten-foot
-long, flat-sided club.
“Excuse me.”
Jack patiently stepped past Pawn. He patiently lifted it over his head.
“Excellence, we should analyze it for self-propulsion properties–”
Jack glanced over – paddle over his head. “You might want to step aside.”
CRACK!
The paddle became a blur.
It buckled the tank like it was made of cardboard.
Snow and ice mushroomed above their heads.
Again.
Again and again and again.
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!
The tank was an unrecognizable hunk, half buried in the ice. The guards watched from a distance.
Jack, huffing at the cold air, lifted the weapon. It trembled above his head. He had turned the color of a deadly storm. He stood on his toes, reached high.
SPULUNK!
A geyser exploded.
The ocean swallowed the sleigh, what was left of it. Nothing was left but a hole.
Jack dropped the weapon and wiped his hands. He climbed back onto his seat and leaned back. His bruised complexion was hidden beneath a thick layer of frost. He grabbed the bowl of sardines and shoved them all in his mouth, chewing and chewing and chewing. Heads and eyes and tails fell on his belly.
“Send all forces. Wipe them all out.”
He wiped his mouth, smudging his frosty cheek.
“EVERY ONE OF THEM!”
The palace came into view.
Dark waves of his army were already spreading out from the base like an ink stain. They’d received his orders. They’d probably heard what he did to the tank, too. They would find the rebels and squash them. Not one of them was to be captured. He wanted them blotted out of existence, shoved beneath the ice to sink to the bottom of the ocean.
Was that a wee bit impulsive?
Yup.
But Jack felt better. That’s all that mattered.
C L A U S
35.
Nicholas lay staring at the ceiling, wondering where he was.
The floor was covered with stuff. The room had been ransacked. While I was sleeping?
He kicked things out of the way to clear a space to stand.
He looked around and remembered.
I’ve got to figure a way out.
He’d watched the attack.
He’d cracked his eyes open and saw Claus and Jack. It made no sense until he saw his son. He saw Jon take the reins in a sleigh and escape.
He escaped.
Nicholas wasn’t going to wait around for another attack. Next time, it might be different. And where is Jessica?
He needed out.
NOW.
He was feeling strong.
His left leg was solid and his ribs intact. He took a deep breath and barely felt the pebble of scar tissue in his lung. And his beard, bushier than ever.
Something clattered under the workbench.
Cane was working. There were nine metallic spiders lined up next to him. He put the finishing touches on the last one and placed it at the end of the line. He stood up and clapped.
The spiders got up and crawled into the lab, over the piles and through the junk like scavengers. The things started carrying the debris around and putting things together.
They were cleaning.
Claus stopped to watch the spiders.
There were already neatly stacked piles and organized shelves.
“Very good, Cane,” he said.
“What have you done to me?” Nicholas walked across the uncluttered floor.
“Saved your life is what I’ve done.”
Nicholas snatched Claus by the lapels of his coat. He was too heavy to lift. Nicholas leaned over. “I CAN’T REMEMBER ANYTHING!”
“Nonsense,” Claus said. “You’ve only lost the first sixteen years of memory.”
“Only?” Nicholas pulled the fat man closer. “What gives you the right to take ANYTHNG?”
Cane stopped clapping.
Claus gently peeled Nicholas’s hands away. He went over to the workbench and thought for a moment, drumming his fingers.
“I don’t expect you to understand,” he said quietly. “What I’m doing is unforgivable. But I’m doing what I can. I’m keeping you alive.”
“You have no right to do this.”
“Of course not.”
“You’re a monster.”
“Perhaps.”
Nicholas paced around the lab, running his hands through his hair. Claus was right, he couldn’t remember when he was a kid. It was gone. Vanished. He couldn’t remember growing up or where he was born, what he liked to do. Was he rich or poor? Were his parents alive or dead?
It was as if he’d been born sixteen years old.
Nicholas grabbed an object. He pressed his fingers around the edges for a good grip. He didn’t want to hurt Claus, but if it was going to be him or Nicolas, then Nicholas would play.
He whirled around, reared back–
Froze.
The bands on his wrists and ankles held him in place.
Claus tapped his fingers on the workbench and turned around. He was still nodding, like he understood Nicholas’s pain.
“My people are being destroyed, Santa. We’ve been torn apart and we may never heal. So, you see, neither of us is winning. We’ve lost, Santa.”
He started for the exit.
“For that, I am sorry.”
Cane walked along with him, only his curly-toed shoes sticking out from under Claus’s coat.
“You’re going to take more of me, aren’t you?”
Claus didn’t answer. He waited at the door.
“Follow me, Santa.”
The bands released their hold. Nicholas dropped the chunk of metal. He was going to follow, whether he wanted to or not. Claus gave him the opportunity to come along with dignity rather than be forced to walk like an animal.
Nicholas nodded.
He followed.
C L A U S
36.
Snow was up to Jessica’s knees.
Snowflakes – the largest she’d seen – drifted down in wayward paths, landing gently in her hair.
The day was bright. Calm.
She watched the empty horizon, realizing she wasn’t wearing protection against the sunlight reflecting off the snow, nothing to keep her from the snow blindness that had affected Jon before they lost their way.
Before we ended up here.
She wasn’t sure how cold it was. It was cold, but how cold? Subzero? Just below freezing? She’d lost perspective. She was there, above the ice, standing near the top of the world, wearing minimal protection, and she felt all right. She felt good, like it was merely the nip of autumn at the end of her nose.
And autumn meant change.
Jessica welcomed change. All her life, she hoped things would be different.
She would stay out in the autumn nights until all her friends went home. She didn’t like coming back to their crowded apartment, to see her mother lying in that bed.
A bed that stank of sweat and sickness.
If her momma was awake when she got home, she’d hold out her arms and Jessica would have to climb into the bed with her. She loved the warmth and the softness, but the smell clung to her for hours.
When her momma fell asleep, Jessica would crawl and hide until her dad was home. He’d stagger through the door, raising his voice. Sometimes things broke. When he was asleep and snoring loud enough to shake the walls, then – and only then – would she come out.
By morning, she’d leave before any of them were awake.
Jessica never minded the cold.
Nog climbed onto the ice, flicking the white flakes from his sleeves while muttering something about snow and Merry and time.
Jessica didn’t take her eyes off the horizon, but she could see him searching his pockets until he found his bag. He let out a chuckle and a smile, and took the time to catch a snowflake on his tongue.
Jessica wanted to catc
h snowflakes, too. She wanted to make snow angels and build snowmen and enjoy life, but she couldn’t.
Not now.
She was angry.
Jessica didn’t want Nog there on the ice, watching the horizon. She didn’t want to be responsible if something happened to him. She’d already done enough to the elven.
They’re following you.
That’s how the Cold One found the colony. He was able to track Jessica. As long as she was with them, they would know where to find them. Jessica informed Merry and Nog that she would be staying behind.
They begged her to change her mind.
They insisted she would not survive.
They declared a solution would be found.
Jessica ignored them. Jon would go. He was… comatose. He had to stay.
So she stayed on the ice and watched the reindeer jump out of sight, taking her son with them. They were right; she wouldn’t survive long. But if she stayed, they all would die with her.
She couldn’t accept that.
And Nog climbed out of the ice. He wasn’t supposed to be here.
These elven… they were so joyful no matter what. They’d been displaced for one hundred fifty years, their lives continued to be threatened, and here was Nog catching snowflakes, as curious as a child.
After all these years, he was still joyful.
She wanted that.
She wanted what they had.
But someone has to watch the horizon, she told herself.
That was no excuse. But she told herself that anyway.
Nog pulled out a metallic ball.
Jessica had seen one of them, briefly. She’d seen the balls in the midst of the storm. As the last of the sleighs escaped, one of the balls flew into the seat next to her and Nog threw it in his bag. Now he held it in the palm of his hand. Lights blinked along the surface.
He tossed it into the snow.
A form suddenly rose up, a body of snow and ice with stout arms and a fat head.
Claus Trilogy (Boxed Set) Page 12
