Emma knew how pointless it was to ask more of her, as all of Santa’s elves were well aware of the Clauses mysterious immortality and otherworldly knowledge, but she’d been following the conversation carefully, and she had an important question she felt certain Mrs. Claus—or Wendy—would answer.
“Was what happened to Boris part of the curse?”
Wendy nodded. “Yes, as was Lily’s mother’s death.”
“Wait. She’s responsible for Willow’s death?” Gemma shrieked. “She killed my sister? I knew there was something wrong with that girl! She’s always so—”
“Lily would never have done that, Gemma,” Emma interrupted her. “Not knowingly. And I thought Willow died of natural causes?”
“It appeared that way, yes,” Mrs. Claus answered cryptically.
Gemma glared at her. “And what does that mean?”
“Lily didn’t—doesn’t—know,” Wendy intervened. “Emma and Crystal are right. Lily would never hurt anyone intentionally. In fact, she goes out of her way to prevent herself from hurting others. Which is why she’s now en route to Antarctica, and that is the problem we need to focus on here.”
“It’s her father, isn’t it?” Gemma asked, not to be dissuaded. “That low-down dead-beat never even had the courage to show his face around here after he got her pregnant. He just vanished. Probably some psychotic warlock who has a grudge against all the good snow witches and warlocks, and he gets his jollies from—”
“Gemma, please calm down,” Mrs. Claus interrupted in a soothing tone.
“Her parentage plays a role in both the blessing and the curse,” Wendy said carefully, weighing her words. “But it’s not pertinent to this discussion.”
“How can you say that? How can you say any of this? You keep telling us things that sound awfully important, and then you say to forget about it, or ignore it? And we’re supposed to do something with all this mess? How are we supposed to save Lily if we don’t even know what we’re saving her from? How can—”
Emma sighed and stood. She walked away from the circle and into the mist, leaving Gemma’s tirade behind, and soon enough, gnarled tree trunks studded with red-capped mushrooms, gears, and gizmos appeared. She smiled to herself and nodded. As she’d suspected, they were in Santa’s workshop, an expanse of nature and contraptions enclosed in a huge ice and glass dome. It had been years since she’d last walked through the forest here. Before she and Pipaluk had the kids.
She plucked a mushroom and walked back to the dream gathering. Gemma hadn’t run out of steam yet.
“And I demand to know what happened to my sister! I have a right to know! She was my only sister, and if my niece had something to—”
Emma strolled up behind Gemma and stuffed the mushroom into her open mouth.
“What the—”
And then Gemma froze. Her upraised hands, previously gesturing wildly, sank slowly to her lap. Her mouth slowly closed. She chewed and swallowed; the tension eased from her face and body with each passing second; and by the time Emma had resumed her seat in the circle, a blissful smile had spread across Gemma’s face.
“Now, the immediate problem is that Lily has run away,” Emma summarized. “And we need to bring her back. Isn’t that it?”
Wendy nodded, relieved to get back on track. “She’s on an ice floe headed toward Antarctica as we speak.”
“An ice floe. Hm. That will use an awful lot of magic to maintain in warmer temperatures, won’t it? But I suppose if she has Pipaluk’s potion with her, she can restore her magic as she depletes it. Unless there is a limit to how often the potion replenishes itself, which is entirely possible. He didn’t have time to test it thoroughly before he gave it to her.”
Mrs. Claus positively beamed. “What did I say, Wendy?”
“I never doubted you. Or her,” Wendy replied.
“The question is direction and speed,” Emma continued, more to herself than the rest. “Lily operates on impulse, so she’d take the most direct route possible: straight south. Now, whether that’s south through the Atlantic Ocean, or south through the Pacific Ocean… Hm. Wendy, do you know which way she went?”
“The Atlantic Ocean.”
“The Atlantic. Okay. As for speed, she’d go as fast as possible at the beginning, and once her thoughts and emotions settled—and she began to feel the drain from her magic—she’d slow down to something more sustainable. When did she leave?”
“Right after you and Pipaluk got home from your date.”
Emma nodded. “Of course. Impulse. Then she’s only been gone a few hours. Crystal, you would have a better idea than me. How far do you think she could have gotten?”
Crystal sat up straighter and screwed her face up in thought. “Let’s see. If I decided to take off on an ice floe—which I wouldn’t, because I’m not crazy—I’d probably… be somewhere east of Greenland by now. Accounting for Lily’s more powerful magic… She may have passed Greenland completely.”
“So, by the time we wake up, she may have passed Europe completely,” Emma concluded. “And the closer she gets to the equator, the more magic she’ll have to use. That will slow her down. Gemma, do you still have that friend who’s an airline pilot?”
Gemma nodded slowly, a dreamy, far-off look in her eyes. “He’s on leave visiting the North Pole right now. We have a dinner date tomorrow.”
“Ew.” Crystal made a face.
“I’ll need him to fly me there. And Crystal, too.”
“Um, why me? And how exactly do you propose to find her? Are we just going to fly around until we see her?”
“Yes. And then you and I will jump off the plane and land on the ice floe.”
Crystal’s blue eyes flew wide open. “Excuse me?”
“Pipaluk has parachutes and rockets we can use,” Emma said dismissively. “Then you can use your magic to help Lily steer the ice floe north again. You can take turns to help with the fatigue.”
“I’m not agreeing to this.”
“Gemma, I’ll need you to watch my kids,” Emma continued. “I love Pipaluk, but he isn’t the most observant father, and since you successfully raised Crystal to adulthood, I assume you have some knowledge of how to handle children.”
Gemma nodded. “I’d love to,” she said, her expression and her voice still distant.
“How much of this will we remember when we wake up?” Emma asked Wendy.
“None of it. You’ll all have vague impressions of what you decide to do. That’s it.”
“I’m deciding to wake up and call Hallmark with a new movie idea, and that’s all,” Crystal intoned.
“Gemma, call your friend first thing in the morning and convince him to fly Crystal and me out to Lily, then come to my house. I’ll talk to Pipaluk and get the kids settled, and then I’ll pick you up, Crystal—”
“I’m not doing this,” Crystal repeated.
“And we’ll leave to find Lily. Now, after we get her back home, what do we need to do?”
“It’s all in the poem,” Wendy replied. “And I can’t say anything more than that. I’m already bending the rules as far as I can without breaking them as it is.”
Crystal groaned. “So helpful.”
“We should bring the book with us, then,” Emma said. “Crystal and I can study it while we’re flying to get Lily.”
“You’re not listening to me.”
Emma pressed her lips together and turned to look directly at Crystal. The snow witch squirmed uncomfortably.
“You’re telling me you would take it upon yourself to prove Lily's innocence when your boyfriend arrested her, but you won’t help me stop her from making what sounds like it could be the biggest mistake in her life?”
Crystal dropped her gaze to the grass, pouting. “He isn’t my boyfriend…”
“I don’t care what you call him. You’re coming with me, and that’s final.”
Crystal sighed dramatically. “Fine, I guess…”
“Good.” Emma nodded and turned back to Wendy and Mrs. Claus. “Anything else?”
“One more thing,” Wendy said, shuffling her feet nervously. “Don’t get mad, but I have a… connection to your son.”
Emma’s brown eyes narrowed.
“Not by her doing,” Mrs. Claus intervened. “He has a special gift for picking up on certain details from the immortal plane. Like the picture he drew of Wendy.”
Emma’s eyes widened. “I knew I’d seen you before.”
“And I’ve met your husband a couple of times in his lab,” Wendy admitted. “He needed a little help to figure out that potion for Lily. But this will be the last time any of you see me.”
Mrs. Claus hopped to her feet. “I think we’re settled here. Sweet dreams, and good luck.”
She clapped her hands, and it all faded to black.
And then visions of sugarplums danced in Emma’s head.
*****
Date of creation: 04/04/2025
Word count: 2,993
Author’s note: The prompt was to write a short story between 1,000 and 3,000 words where the female protagonist is strong and powerful and fights against all odds. There was no genre requirement.
ns3.21.28.69da2
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