by Sam Cheever
Or, better yet, creating a fire of our very own.
CHAPTER 4
Where are you, Darma?
In Gerbils’ basement.
How many masked rodents are watching the humans?
I’ve seen eight so far. But two of them just left, presumably to do rounds on the upper levels.
Okay, I’ll be there in a few minutes. I pushed the door into the mall open a crack and peered through. The mall area around the door appeared empty so I slipped through and eased the door closed behind me. My gaze slid toward the spot where I’d left my fake Santa and noted the pile of fake snow on the floor. Apparently my elf had discarded his Santa suit. I grimaced as I realized he had to be ambling around the mall in his skivvies. Unless he found an elves casual dress section in Gerbils department store.
Hurrying over to the holographic information center, I touched the floating depiction of Gerbils. The picture wavered on the air and swung ninety degrees to the right, leaving behind a wide green arrow pointing to the spot in the mall where the store was located.
Giving one last look around, I started off in the direction the arrow was pointing. I hadn’t gone far before the sound of jingling bells stopped me in my tracks. Multi-colored lights flashed across the floor in front of me.
“Ho, ho, ho!”
I jerked to a stop and turned a horrified gaze toward the hole in the ceiling at the center of the mall. The hole spun with flashing lights in red, green and blue. “Crap!”
Footsteps pounded toward me and I looked quickly around. The sound echoed strangely through the big mall but appeared to be coming down one of the eastern legs of the big spider that was the Angel City Mall. A loud thumping sound overhead spurred me into action. I visualized the roof and space shifted up there. As I landed, two shimmering ropes shot upward from the main floor, connecting to the ragged edges of the opening. The ninja elves started shimmying quickly up the ropes.
Behind me, reindeer snorted and stomped, their eyes rolling nervously toward the hole.
“Astra Q Phelps.” I blinked, my gaze shooting toward the sleigh that waited, sparking with magical energy, a few feet away. A small face glared down at me from the sleigh’s depths.
I glared back. “Hold that thought, Ralphy.”
I sent a jolt of power into the part of the roof holding the magical rope the ninjas were climbing. The ropes fell away and one of the ninjas fell downward, short arms flailing and beady black eyes wide with shock. The second ninja somehow managed to leap onto the roof, his pudgy fingers grasping the raw edge. Before I could react, he’d flipped himself onto the roof and was on top of the sleigh, his blade settled at Ralphy’s throat. “Where’s Santa?”
To my vast surprise, Ralphy glared back at his evil brethren. “Safe from you marauders.”
“Marauders?” Shaking my head, I signaled to Ralphy that I was going to blast the ninja.
He shook his head. “Hey, asshole, you ever watch Rudolf the Red Nosed Reindeer?”
The ninja frowned. “What are you blathering about?”
Ralphy chuckled. “Rudolf?”
The reindeer at the front of the sleigh turned his head, and I gasped. His nose was black. It didn’t glow at all. Before I could wrap my mind around the disappointment I felt, Something else on his face glowed. His gaze flared red through the night and, in the blink of an eye, he’d flashed toward the masked rodent, rammed him with his giant antlers, and sent him flying backward to land at my feet. I reached down and ripped off his mask.
The elf blinked several times and shook his head. “Where am I?”
“You’re at the Angel City Mall, Bob. And you’re in big trouble with Santa,” Ralphy told him.
That was when I finally recognized the elf lying at my feet. Bob and I had met the previous Christmas, when Santa disappeared and we feared he’d been kidnapped. I hadn’t recognized him without his Hooters ball cap. “Bob? You’re a ninja elf?”
Squinching his wide, bristly face, Bob looked up at me. “Phelps?”
I offered him my hand and helped him to his feet. “What up, man? Why’d you join the dark side?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Do you realize you keep answering my questions with questions?” I asked him.
“Do you realize all your questions are annoying?”
I gave up, looking at Ralphy.
“His brain’s scrambled,” Ralphy explained. “It’s the mask.”
I eyed the black mask on my fingertips, noting the tingling sensation it was giving off. “This thing messed with his mind?”
Ralphy jumped down from the sleigh, ambling over to shake his friend’s hand. “The Grinch talked him and some of the other guys into wearing them. They didn’t know what it would do to them.”
I frowned. “Why? Is the Grinch trying to take out Santa again?”
Ralphy shrugged. “I don’t think so. But if he can destroy Christmas he’s happy to do it.”
I had a sudden realization. “Wait! Dialle thinks Santa’s in danger. I need to let him know he’s not.”
Ralphy frowned. “You’re misunderstanding me, Phelps. Just because guys like Bob here are being duped into wearing the masks, that doesn’t mean they aren’t deadly. The Grinch apparently put too much juju into these things and they turned a harmless Elvin pet peeve into deadly intent.”
“So what are you telling me?”
“I’m telling you that the plot to kill all the fake Santas is real.”
“Crap.”
“And despite what these guys say, they wouldn’t know the real Santa if he bit them on the ass.”
I felt my eyes go wide. “So they might kill Santa too? By mistake?”
“They might.”
“Okay, with Bob here back in the ranks of the jolly, we only have seven more ninjas to take down and then Santa and the others will be safe.” I thought about it. “Maybe eight. I think there’s a big elf running around somewhere in his underwear.”
Ralphy’s brows lowered over his beady black eyes. “I won’t even ask. Besides, that would be true if this bunch was the only group of Ninjas.”
The first twist of alarm tightened in my gut. “There are more of them?”
“Oh, sure. In malls all over the world. Remember the elf union some of the guys were trying to start last Christmas?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, the Grinch took all of that negative energy and used it to entice most of the guys involved into wearing the ninja masks. There are at least fifty and maybe more. He told them if they took a strong stance against the fakery and commercialism of the Christmas season Santa would realize how invaluable they were to him and give them their union.”
“Holy frunkin’ bent gargoyle toes.” I leaned against the sleigh, the mask in my fingers drooping dejectedly. “How are we going to get rid of all these masked rodents?”
“The good news is the magic in the masks dies at Midnight.”
I perked up. “That’s only a couple of hours away. That is good news.”
Ralphy frowned. “Yeah. But there’s bad news too.”
“What is it?”
“You know how Santa gets all the way around the world in a single night...?”
I groaned, realizing where he was going.
“Yeah, Phelps. He slows down time. What we’re really looking at here is about ten hours of holding these ninja elves back.”
Astra? Where are you? I’m getting worried about these hostages.
Just a minute. Things are developing. Shoving aside my worry about the night ahead, I glanced at Ralphy. “So why are you here?”
Ralphy puffed out his narrow chest and tucked his stumpy thumbs into the waistband of his silly green pants. “I came to help.”
Astra! Things are getting sticky down here...”
I frowned at the elf. “Look, Darma needs my help with the hostages. Tell me in two words what you can do to help? I need to go.”
“Pixie dust.”
I narrowed my gaze o
n him. “What in Hades does that even mean?”
“You told me two words.”
“Don’t make me shoot you with a power arrow, elf.”
Bob giggled and slapped one pudgy knee.
“Pixie dust takes the power out of the masks.” Ralphy reached into the sleigh and pulled out a large paper bag with a big grease spot on the bottom. “I brought pixie dust cookies. All we have to do is get the ninjas to eat them.”
I lifted an eyebrow. “You think they’ll take a break from world domination to eat a cookie?”
Bob made a noise and reached for the bag, shoving his hand inside and coming out with a large sugar cookie covered in sprinkles. He shoved the cookie into his mouth and started moaning.
Ralphy cocked an eyebrow.
“Okay, but Bob is no longer under the influence.”
“It doesn’t matter, Astra. The magic residue is still there.”
“What if they aren’t hungry?”
Astra!!
A minute here, Darma. We might have a solution.
I’m out of time...oh bent frunkin’ gargoyle toes!
Ralphy jerked the bag away from Bob’s frosting coated fingers. “Elves are always hungry, Astra. It’s the thousand year old virgin thing. We compensate with sugar.”
Astraaaaaaaaaaaaa!
I grabbed the bag. “I’ve gotta go. You coming?”
I pulled my energy forward and Ralphy leapt off the sleigh, landing in my arms just as I popped away, heading for Gerbil’s basement.
We landed in a dark place that smelled like mouse droppings. I dropped the rodent in my arms and grimaced. “It stinks down here.”
Glaring at me for the unplanned dismount, Ralphy grabbed the cookie bag. “Are you sure this is where the hostages are?”
I nodded, turning on my heel and shrieking at the tall, pale-fleshed naked woman with no nipples who was standing behind me. I squealed, shoving a cookie at her.
The cookie bounced off her too-smooth face and crumpled to the ground at my feet.
“Phelps! Don’t waste the cookies. These are priceless.”
I inhaled deeply, trying to calm my racing heart, then coughed as I sucked in putrid air. Shoving the manikin aside, I headed toward a lighter area at the far end of the room. “Come on, I smell elf.”
Ralphy ambled after me, his small face folded into a glower. “You know elves have feelings, Phelps.”
“I don’t care. I kind of stopped caring the day you jerks kidnapped me right out of my shower all nakies and wet.”
Ralphy made a noise that brought my head round with suspicion. “You’d better not be laughing.”
Ralphy wiped the smile from his lips. But his eyes still sparkled. A shout up ahead was followed by a crashing noise and a pain-filled cry.
I held out a hand to warn Ralphy. He stilled. Leaning closer, I whispered in his ear. “You have a plan for getting those cookies to the other elves?”
Ralphy nodded, shoving a cookie into his mouth and chewing, his cheeks rounded out like a chipmunk’s.
“Your plan is to eat a cookie?”
Giving me a look, Ralphy grabbed the mask from my arm and yanked it down. Before my horrified gaze, he slipped it over his head, tugging it into position.
“Hey!”
He shoved a short digit over his mouth. “Quiet, Phelps. I got this.” Ralphy ambled away, toward the brick partition cutting off the lighted end of the room from the rest of the basement. He rounded the partition and I waited for the shouts that would herald his capture.
While I waited I wondered where my sister was hiding. Darma?
Kill all the Santas.
I blinked. Um, Darma?
Cut off the head and they’ll all die.
A cold fear crept up my spine. I hurried over to the brick wall and stuck my head around it to see what the rodents were doing. Ralphy sat on the floor with the other ninjas, happily chowing cookies. I glanced around, seeing a very confused bunch of hostages clumped together against the far wall. When they spotted me a few of them started to stand. I shook my head, putting a finger over my lips.
They stilled but didn’t sit back down.
Energy spit from the fingertips I held behind my back. “Uh, Ralphy?”
His head whipped around and he smiled. His mask was cockeyed on his face. “Phelps. Wazzup?”
Seven other little faces turned my way, all goofy with happiness and slack with cookie intoxication. “Really? Santa’s in danger and you’re just gonna sit there and eat cookies?”
They shared a look around the circle of elves, looking unconcerned. Ralphy finally nodded. “Just until they’re all gone.”
Expelling a frustrated breath I stalked forward, grabbing the greasy bag out of Ralphy’s hand. “Hey? Give me that back.”
He’d been holding on so tightly a piece of the brown paper came off in his hand when I grabbed it.
“Sorry elf. I might need a couple of these.”
I glanced at the hostages. “Any of you see a crabby looking blonde woman around here? She was supposed to be keeping an eye on you until we came up with a plan to rescue you.”
An elderly woman frowned. “We saw an elf in his underwear a while ago. He looked confused.”
One man, a good looking guy who looked to be in his thirties nodded. “Yeah. We saw her. Unfortunately rescuing us was the furthest thing from her mind.”
The pretty young woman next to him nodded too. “Yeah. She ran out of here a few minutes ago muttering something about cutting off Santa’s head.”
The fear that had crept in a few minutes earlier expanded to clog my airways. I looked at the sugar-saturated group on the floor. They were lying on their backs pointing to the lights above their heads and exclaiming as if they were watching laser works. “What did you rodents do to my sister?”
The elf next to Ralphy had his mask around his cheeks and was chewing on it as he giggled at the light. He pointed a fleshy digit toward the ceiling, swirling it in the air. “She looked good in the mask.”
The other elves nodded in agreement.
“You put a mask on my sister?” I jerked my gaze to Ralphy. “What will it do to her?”
Ralphy roused himself from his stupor long enough to thoughtfully narrow his gaze. He placed a finger over his mouth and sat swaying like a prophet.
Unfortunately for him prophets annoyed me even more than elves. “Ralphy!”
He jerked in surprise, focusing a bleary gaze on me. “Darma in a mask? He shuddered. “There’s a lot of rage there, Phelps.”
Yeah. That was pretty much what I’d been thinking. If the mask tapped into the mean in a person and multiplied it exponentially...my sister was maybe the worst possible choice to be wearing one. It would be like unleashing the four horsemen of the apocalypse on Angel City.
Scratch that, I thought as I pulled my power forward and envisioned the roof.
It was about ten times worse.
I entered my space shift with a feeling that I was already too late to avert the crisis I knew was coming. My feet touched the ground and the world came flooding back in the form of bells ringing frantically on the night air. High above my head, Rudolph’s eyes glowed red on the night sky. The sleigh dipped and veered violently as the person sitting in the seat whipped the reigns with anger-fueled veracity.
“Dude. You seen my pants?”
I glared over at the big elf in red long johns with Santa heads all over them. “Get lost, rodent.” I cast my gaze skyward again, groaning as I spotted the shiny blonde head of my sister. Darma was surrounded by boxes wrapped in pretty paper. A round, pale face peered down at me from the back of the sleigh, looking terrified.
She’d elf-napped Bob.
Angry Darma was loose on the world. Bewitched and dangerous. And all I had at my disposal to stop her was a bunch of drug-laced sugar cookies.
Talk about under armed.
CHAPTER 5
Ralphy popped up to the roof a moment later, followed by several more pops as the o
ther elves all joined us. To an elf, they clutched their heads and stomachs, groaning. Ralphy’s face was greener than his stupid pants.
“Hung over?” I asked him.
He wiped sweat off his upper lip and shoved his pointed red hat back on his head. “I’d forgotten about the residual effects of pixie dust.”
As the fat elf turned and horked in the snow-free spot where the sleigh had been, I lifted an eyebrow at the Ralphster. “Especially when you over-indulge.”
“Shut up, Phelps. Don’t kick an elf when he’s down.”
Shaking my head, I shifted my mental drawers. Tadpole, I need you.
There was a brief hesitation during which I worried my dragon wouldn’t respond. Finally, she came online, the sound of Christmas music blaring in the background. What’s up, Mother halfling?
I frowned. How did a laser rock band get into our communication path?
What? I can’t hear you over the music.
Turn it down!
What?
Switch channels, tadpole!
There was a grunt and then the music dropped away. Sorry. It’s Snoopy’s fault. He’s been playing this new rock laser band all week and the music is seriously stuck in my head. What’s wrong?
Shoving aside the disappointing realization that she assumed I was only contacting her because something was wrong...mostly because...well...something was wrong...I quickly filled her in on my dilemma.
Yikes! The thought of Darma under a rage-enhancing drug is terrifying.
Yeah. Tell me about it. Do you know where Santa is?
Not right at this minute, no. But the good news is that Darma won’t know where he is either. He could be anywhere.
I frowned. Right. Turning to Ralphy, I asked. “How do the elves locate Santa when you need him?
Ralphy shrugged. “NPPS.”
“In English please.”
“North Pole Positioning Satellite. All the sleighs are equipped with the technology.”
“So Darma will be able to find Santa?”
Ralphy’s green face paled. “Yeah, I guess so.” His eyes widened. “But she won’t know how to use it. NPPS is a complex process using several moons, the stars and a couple of planets to narrow in on Santa’s location. She’ll never figure it out.”
