Claus

Thirty

The North Pole was not the candy cane and sugar plum village Humans pictured it to be. It was crowded with buildings practically attached at the seams. Some were built with wood planks and others red bricks, most with triangle roofs. Smoke billowed from every visible chimney. Was her father in the city? Was he in one of those houses eating or reading? Or maybe he liked to draw.

Was he even alive?

No one had ever wanted to give Faryn information on her father. She didn't know if her parents' relationship was a one-night thing or if Clora loved him. If she wanted to be with him.

The Elves that passed by the train station stopped when they caught sight of Faryn. She was going to be rejected by them, and when that happened, who would she have?

She expected Klaus to be at the train station, or her mother if she was in fact fine, but there was no one waiting for them. Klaus must have assumed Jack could ensure Faryn made it to him.

Her stomach twisted. She was about to meet her half-brother under circumstances where he believed she murdered his father.

Once upon a time, it might have been nice to have had a brother.

Jack ran a hand through his hair and muttered something to Moroz, her cousin clearly disgruntled that no transportation had been provided.

Peter sidled up to Faryn. "I think his mind's about to explode."

"It would solve about a hundred problems at once." Clíodhna's voice came from behind her, and Faryn couldn't stop herself from tensing. She just kept seeing the black fog roiling around Clíodhna, and with no explanation for why she had Krampus powers, Faryn wasn't sure how much trust she should be putting in the Leprechaun. Perhaps she should mention the powers to Peter and Cassian.

Ziva brushed past Jack, her boots crunching in the snow. While on the train, she had changed into a red and white dress that came a few inches above her ankles to avoid dragging in the snow. Thick pants peeked out from underneath the hem. Harumi, Peter, and Clíodhna were bundled up as well. Cassian was to some degree, but he had built up at least a little bit of tolerance to the cold living in the alps.

Faryn could tell it was colder than what she was used to, but it only felt like a few degrees difference. Her lined jeans and thin jacket kept her comfortable enough. Moroz and the Snow Maiden didn't have many layers either.

To the left was a shop that only sold hot chocolate and to her right was a restaurant that specialized in tacos and pasta. Garland and lights were strung on every building. Though it was early afternoon, the sun had already set.

Where were the mourning flags? The wailing that their oh-so-great leader was missing and possibly dead? Or were the Elves who lived here not as disillusioned with Nick as the rest of the world?

Ziva led them up a cobblestone street that rose into a slight hill. The garland smelled like fresh pine, as if they had just been strung.

What would it have been like to grow up here?

Cassian maneuvered his way to her and walked alongside her in silence. Maybe he sensed a potential threat. An ambush by Winter Court members. Her dagger was secured under her jacket within easy reach.

She was grateful she was still allowed to hold onto it. Once Ziva's sanctuary was lifted, it would probably be taken from her.

"I can't tell what you're thinking," he murmured low enough only she could hear.

She arched a brow. "Can you often tell what I'm thinking?"

"I'm not usually curious about it."