Santa Daddy, I’m Not the One

16

NILS

I placed the gift under the tree with care. That was the last name checked off my list. I should be on my way back to Twinkle Glen, but I had one more task to accomplish before I could return home, one that weighed heavily on my heart. My sleigh cut through the crisp night air, the stars twinkling above like distant beacons as I flew to Landon’s hometown. I’d deliberately saved it for last.

The house was dark, but I knew who I was looking for would lurk around, waiting for his chance to ruin another Christmas. I landed the sleigh with practiced ease on the roof.

“Stay here,” I told Eirik, who had accompanied me tonight. “I won’t be long.”

The snow crunched under my boots as I tiptoed across the frost-kissed shingles. Down the chimney chute, I landed in the living room. I opened the small endless sack and plucked out the toys for the kids in the orphanage. I laid them out nicely, then stopped to eat the cookies that had been left behind.

While munching on one, I tiptoed up the stairs and found the bedroom. I slipped inside and came face-to-face with the horrified occupant. I knew all his tricks. He’d been doing this for years, and it was time to put an end to it. Landon had proved that the world didn’t necessarily fall apart because of breaking one rule.

The man’s mouth bobbed open, and he sat up against the headboard.

“Who are you?” he croaked. “There’s nothing in here. All the gifts are under the tree. Take them and go.”

“I don’t want your gifts. I brought them.”

He furrowed his brow. “What?”

“I know what you have been doing all these years. Stealing the children’s gifts and pawning them. I’m here to put a stop to it.”

“How…did you know? Who are you?”

“Can’t you tell?”

He shook his head.

“Yes, you do. Tell me, what’s my name?”

“Santa Claus? You’re not real.”

“Am I not?” I crossed my arms. “I can list every gift I’ve put under your tree. And every misdeed you’ve done, like stealing little Mary’s doll and the bike that was meant for Tommy last year. You took all the presents I brought for Landon. I know it all.”

“How…?”

“Because I’m Santa. In the spirit of Christmas, I’ll give you one chance to make it right. The next time you rob from these children, you will regret it.”

With one last warning glance, I turned, but at the door, I blew a swirl of frost into the bedroom. In case he woke up tomorrow and thought the whole thing was a hallucination. He would have the devil of a time getting the frost out of his bedroom.

On the roof, Eirik was waiting for me, his expression concerned.

“Is everything all right?” he asked as I climbed back into the sleigh.

“It’s taken care of,” I said, my thoughts already racing back to Twinkle Glen, to Landon and our ball. I couldn’t wait to dance in the square with him, the lights from the tree shining on us. “Let’s go home.”

The sleigh soared above the sleeping town, leaving a trail of stardust in its wake. I looked down at the world below, satisfied. Our task for the year was done. In the months of rest, I could properly woo Landon before we had to get busy working on new toys for the next Christmas.

The familiar sight of the frosted forests and twinkling lights of the workshop welcomed me home. The air was crisp and filled with the magic that always seemed to permeate everything here. But as we descended into the clearing, my heart sank. A crowd of elves huddled together, their faces etched with worry and fear.

I landed the sleigh and leaped out, Eirik close on my heels. “What’s happened?” I scanned the faces but didn’t see Landon among them.

“Santa, it’s Landon!” one of the elves said, her eyes wide with panic. “He’s missing! We think Frostheart might have taken him. One of the elves spotted him in the forest when we cut down our tree.”

A cold dread filled me, chilling me to the bone. Frostheart had already lost. Why was he still going after Landon?

“Where was he last seen?” I asked.

“Near the edge of the Whispering Woods,” another elf replied. “We called to him earlier. When we didn’t see him return, we started searching for him.”

Without another word, I dashed past the elves toward the Whispering Woods, its trees whispering secrets in the wind. I knew these woods well, had roamed them for centuries, but now they felt alien, hostile even.

“Frostheart!” I bellowed through the stillness. “Show yourself!”

The forest remained silent, but I pushed on, looking for any sign of Landon or Frostheart. The snow was trampled in places as if there had been a struggle, and my heart raced with every step. I had to find him. I had to bring Landon back.

As I ventured deeper into the woods, the light from the workshop faded, and the trees grew denser. And then I heard it—a laugh, cold and mocking, drifting toward me on the breeze.

“Run, run as fast as you can. I’m afraid it’s too late to find your man.”

“Frostheart!” I roared. “Where is he?”

The laugh intensified, getting closer, and a shadow detached itself from the trees. Frostheart stepped into the clearing, his eyes glowing with malevolence.

“Looking for this?” He held out a cloak I recognized immediately. It was Landon’s.

Anger surged through me, hot and fierce. “Where is he?”

“Now don’t be so hostile. I merely helped him to find the location to cross over into his dimension.”

Time seemed to freeze as Frostheart’s words sank in. If he’d indeed brought Landon back, then…he would have already forgotten about me and our love.

“What did you do?” I rasped.

“I brought him here,” Frostheart said. “And he no longer served a purpose. Be grateful I didn’t kill him but just brought him back to where he belongs.”

“What have you done?” I roared. Raw pain streamed through my veins like lethal poison. My lungs burned from running through the forest, but it was nothing compared to the hurt lancing through my heart.

I’d lost him.

I’d lost my Landon.

“This is spectacular.” Frostheart laughed. “Seeing you completely devastated has made up for foiling my plans repeatedly. He won’t remember you, Santa. He’ll once again be the selfish, uncaring boy I brought into your world.”

So many times in the past I could have killed Frostheart, but I never did. As the epitome of cheer, how could I? I’d always been led to believe that with the right influence, anyone could change, but realization dawned on me. Frostheart would never change. And I didn’t want him to. I needed to eliminate him for tearing me and Landon apart.

“I’m going to kill you,” I whispered.

“You? Kill me? That’s the antithesis of everything you believe in.”

Anger burning inside me, I manipulated the fallen snow, swirling it around him.

“Snow? You’re going to kill me with snow? Is that even possible? Have you forgotten who I am?”

I continued until he was completely buried under the snow. With a loud cry, I ripped the snow apart into tiny particles, destroying Frostheart and scattering him along with the particles. He’d underestimated my anger, underestimated how much I was willing to bend the rules if pushed too far.

“You… you…” he sputtered as his form disintegrated before me.

“I told you. This ends now.”

And then silence. The snow stopped swirling and settled into a thick blanket that covered every inch of the forest floor.

Frostheart was gone.

But so was Landon.

Why did I have to lose him again?

In the eerie stillness of the Whispering Woods, I fell to my knees, the weight of my loss pressing me into the snow. The only sounds were those of the wind sighing through the trees and my ragged breaths.

Time slipped away, measured in heartbeats and frozen breaths until finally Eirik came. His steps were slow, hesitant. He dared not touch me, knowing that there was no comfort he could offer that would ease my pain.

“Santa,” he said softly. “We should go back.”

“What am I going back to?” I asked, my voice hollow. “He’s gone, Eirik. He’s gone.”