Chapter 29
Of Magic and Reindeer
Ijolted awake, heart pounding, with absolutely no idea where I was. The ceiling above me glittered with tiny, embedded crystals, like stars frozen in ice. For one wild moment, I thought I’d manifested a bizarre snow shark aquarium in my sleep.
Then it hit me: the North Pole. Santa’s castle. My home.
I sat up, running my hand over the silky sheets that practically hummed with enchantment. The room felt simultaneously foreign and achingly familiar, like a recurring dream I could never quite remember upon waking.
Something else felt different too. There was a strange tugging sensation in my chest, as if nine invisible threads were pulling me in various directions. I pressed my palm against my sternum, focusing on the feeling.
The guys. They weren’t in the castle.
I knew this with absolute certainty, the same way I knew it was snowing outside without looking through the frosted windows. The awareness hummed through me like a low electrical current. In Klarhaven, I’d felt drawn to them, but here... here the pull was amplified, as if the veil had cranked our connection to eleven.
My hand drifted to the space beside me. They’d invited meback to their house, but at least for one night I wanted to be in the castle. Plus, I had a day jam-packed with Claus business.
Holy reindeer balls, I was going to be Santa Claus.
I wondered whether they would let me change the name. Something like Mistress of the Sleigh or Maiden of the Pole.
A soft knock interrupted my thoughts.
“Come in!”
My dad opened the door and stepped inside, looking significantly less exhausted than he had yesterday. “Good morning, snowflake. Sleep well?”
I nodded, momentarily overcome by the surreal nature of this conversation. Small talk with Santa. About sleeping arrangements in his magical ice castle.
Just a normal day in the North Pole.
“I thought you might like a tour.” He shifted his weight, thumbs hooked into the belt loops of completely normal jeans paired with another Jingle polo.
Thirty minutes later, I followed my dad down a long hallway attached to the castle and down a spiral staircase that opened into what could only be described as organized chaos. The central workshop sprawled before us, a massive open space bustling with more activity than Times Square on New Year’s Eve.
Elves—not short caricatures but average-looking people with an ethereal quality and pointed ears—moved with purpose between workstations. Some wore practical coveralls with tool belts, while others donned more whimsical attire that shimmered with magic.
“Holy figgy pudding.” I gestured wildly at the chaos before us. “This is... this is...”
“Christmas magic in action.” He beamed with unmistakable pride. “This is the central hub. There are seventeen specialized workshops spread throughout the complex.”
As we descended the last steps, heads turned in our direction. Conversations faltered, tools paused mid-motion, and the noise level dipped noticeably.
A tall elf with braided lime-green hair approached, his eyeswidening as he recognized me. He dropped into a formal bow, right fist pressed to his heart.
“Miss Neve.” His voice carried, causing a ripple effect as other elves turned to look. “The frost has returned to the mountain.”
I froze, momentarily panicked by the formality and attention. Several more elves abandoned their tasks, moving toward us with expressions ranging from curiosity to outright joy.
My dad’s hand settled on my shoulder. “They’ve been waiting for you to come home.”
The weight of those words settled over me as dozens of elves bowed or waved, their faces alight with a mixture of hope and wonder that I couldn’t possibly deserve.
“But I nearly destroyed everything.” I looked past the elves welcoming me to find several still working or outright glaring.
Admitting I’d nearly demolished Santa’s workshop felt like I’d replaced all the North Pole’s cocoa with lukewarm chamomile tea.
An elf with hair striped like a candy cane stepped forward, her gaze fixed on me. “The saplings that weather the harshest winters grow the strongest roots.” Her voice carried through the workshop. “You left as a frightened child, Neve North. You return a woman of magic and reindeer.”
