Chapter 15 Flying Reindeer 101
“Absofuckinglutely not.” I stared at the backyard full of men who had just informed me we would fly to Klarhaven. Not on a plane. Not in a helicopter. Not even strapped to a hang glider.
But on their backs. While they were reindeer.
“I’m not riding any of you.” I jutted my chin out, ignoring the way Dane’s eyes sparkled with amusement at my choice of words. “That is not a mode of transportation the FAA has approved.”
Vix snorted. “The FAA doesn’t know we exist.”
“My point exactly!” I gestured wildly at the sky. “There’s probably a reason magical flying reindeer aren’t covered in the transportation safety guidelines!”
Don stepped forward with a bundle of clothing in his massive arms. “You’ll need these.”
I reluctantly accepted what turned out to be the thickest, fluffiest winter coat I’d ever touched, accompanied by snow pants, boots, gloves, and a hat with a stupid jingle bell on top. At least they were a neutral gray and not red.
“Where did all this even come from?” I ran my fingers over the impossibly soft fur lining the hood. “I don’t own winter clothes.”
“Magic,” Blitz said, like it was the most obvious answer in the world.
“Of course.” I rolled my eyes. “Because why wouldn’t you be able to conjure a whole winter wardrobe out of thin air? Totally normal.”
Kip nudged the boots toward me with his foot. “Better get dressed unless you want your nipples to freeze off.”
I clutched the coat like a shield. “My nipples are staying exactly where they are, thank you very much.”
Cole chuckled. “Put them on, Neve. It will be cold, even for someone rediscovering their ice powers.”
With a dramatic sigh that would have made any teenager proud, I shrugged into the coat. It was annoyingly perfect and the right size. It was so light it barely felt like I was wearing anything, yet somehow it was incredibly warm.
“I know several good lawyers.” I yanked the pants up over my jeans. “If I lose so much as a finger to frostbite, I’m suing all of you.”
Pierce placed the boots in front of me. “No one’s losing any body parts tonight.”
I jammed my feet into the boots, which molded instantly to my feet like they’d been custom-made. “That’s exactly what someone says before an arm gets cut off.”
Dash held out the hat. “We won’t be flying into any ice storms, and the magic will keep you warm.”
My stomach lurched at the casual reminder of what was about to happen. Flying. On actual reindeer. Hundreds of feet in the air with nothing but fur and magic between me and plummeting to my death.
I tugged the hat over my ears, the bell jingling softly. “If I throw up on anyone, remember that this was your idea.”
The men exchanged glances, a silent communication passing between them. Then, one by one, they stepped back, forming a loose half-circle around me in the yard.
Dane tipped his chin toward me, all casual warning. “You might want to step back a bit.”
I retreated until my back hit the trunk of the lone palm tree that had survived my black thumb. From there, I watched as the most surreal transformation I’d ever witnessed unfolded.
It started with a shimmering in the air around each man, like heat waves rising from pavement.
Their forms blurred, stretched, and twisted.
Clothes melted away, replaced by thick fur in various shades of brown.
Human features elongated into muzzles, hands and feet morphed into powerful hooves, and atop each changing head, antlers sprouted and unfurled like time-lapse photography of growing branches.
Within moments, my backyard was filled with giant reindeer. Steam rose from their nostrils in the cool air, their massive antlers gleaming in the moonlight.
“Holy shit,” I whispered, frozen in place as nine sets of eyes—the same colors they’d had as humans—focused on me.
Only there weren’t nine reindeer. There were eight.
Rudy still stood in human form, moving purposefully between the reindeer with my hastily packed suitcase and duffel bag. He secured them with practiced efficiency to the backs of what I somehow knew were Pierce and Cole.
One of the smaller reindeer stepped forward, kneeling gracefully in front of me. His coat was deep brown, and his eyes were unmistakably Dane’s. As he lowered himself, I noticed a saddle-like contraption across his back that hadn’t been there when he’d first shifted.
My legs felt like jelly as I approached. “This is insane. I am insane.”
Dane snorted, nudging my hand with his muzzle.
“Fine. But if you drop me, I swear I’ll come back as a ghost and haunt your reindeer ass for all eternity.”
Taking a deep breath, I gripped the saddle and awkwardly swung my leg over, settling into place with all the grace of a newborn giraffe. The moment I sat, a feeling of rightness swept over me, and my brain recognized this as natural.
The saddle molded to my body like the boots had to my feet, securing me in place without feeling restrictive. My fingers found the horn and wrapped around it, the material warm beneath my touch.
A movement to my right caught my eye. Rudy was mounting the largest reindeer, which had a coat so dark brown it was almost black. Even in reindeer form, Don’s quiet strength was unmistakable.
“What are you doing?” I called over to Rudy, my voice higher than normal. “Aren’t you going to... you know?” I made a vague gesture at the other reindeer.
Rudy settled onto Don’s back, looking far more comfortable with the whole situation than anyone had a right to. “One of us needs to communicate with you.”
My brow furrowed. “But I heard you in my head when you were a reindeer in the park. You could talk to me then.”
Something flickered across Rudy’s face, though it was gone so quickly I might have imagined it. “It’s easier to protect you this way.”
Before I could question what exactly he meant by “protect,” Dane rose beneath me, bringing me to a height that made me yelp and clutch the saddle horn with white knuckles.
“Wait, I’m not ready!” I looked frantically at Rudy. “What do I do? How do I steer? Is there a seatbelt on this thing?”
Rudy’s lips twitched. “Just hold on. Dane knows what he’s doing.”
The reindeer began to move, padding to the center of my yard where there definitely wasn’t enough space for eight massive reindeer to take off.
“If I die doing this,” I hissed toward Rudy, “I want ‘I told you so’ on my tombstone.”
Dane’s muscles bunched beneath me, and I tightened my grip on the saddle horn so hard my knuckles ached. I don’t know what I was expecting, but the reindeer floated up like balloons.
No warning. No countdown. No galloping start.
My stomach plummeted as the earth fell away, hooves still positioned as though they were standing on solid ground instead of thin air. It was like being in an elevator with no walls, except the ground dissolved beneath us as my yard shrank to dollhouse size.
“Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit,” I chanted under my breath as I sent a prayer to whatever deity might be listening to not let me become a Neve pancake.
The world tilted and swayed as we rose higher, my backyard palm tree now a tiny toothpick against the sprawling grid of Palm Springs lights. The massive bodies of the reindeer were weightless against the night sky.
A thought struck me with sudden, horrifying clarity.
“What if someone sees us?” I called out, panic sharpening every syllable. “There are planes and drones and helicopters and… and telescopes! People look up!”
Rudy turned his head, his posture relaxed on Don’s back. The moonlight caught his profile, calm and untroubled by our casual defiance of gravity. “They won’t. Our magic bends light and hides us from human eyes.”
My laugh edged toward hysteria.
I might have believed him if Dane hadn’t chosen that exact moment to surge forward in a smooth, impossible leap through the air. We shot forward, the rest of the herd falling into formation around us like some kind of Christmas cavalry.
Palm Springs transformed from a recognizable grid of lights into a blurred smear of distant sparkles. My brain was confused as the world whipped by, but I could hardly feel the air move.
There was no skin-peeling, eye-watering hurricane-force wind. Just comfortable, slightly cool air and the gentle rhythmic motion of Dane’s body as he practically swam through the sky.
I’d expected the saddle to chafe, for my legs to cramp, for the cold to bite through my clothes. Instead, I felt... protected.
“How fast are we going?” I shouted, despite not needing to do so. I pressed myself lower against Dane’s neck, feeling exposed sitting straight up. This wasn’t a casual horseback ride.
Don moved close enough that I could see Rudy’s expression in the moonlight. “About five hundred miles per hour.”
I blinked, waiting for the punchline.
It didn’t come.
“That’s not possible!” My voice cracked on the last word. “We’d be torn apart by the wind at that speed!”
A rumble vibrated through Dane’s body beneath me. Was he laughing at me?
“It’s possible with magic,” Rudy reminded me with infuriating casualness, as though we weren’t currently breaking several laws of physics. “We’ll also be going through a few sky gates that will get us there faster. You’ll see a slight shimmer, but there’s no reason to be alarmed.”
We soared over cities that flashed by too quickly to identify, desert giving way to mountains, then forests, then more mountains, higher and craggier than before. Clouds surrounded us, parting now and then to reveal glowing ribbons of highway, neat grids of towns, and dark stretches of wilderness.
I lost track of time, mesmerized by the impossible journey.
My terror gradually mellowed into awe as I realized the reindeer herd moved as one, shifting and adjusting around each other with the precision of a dance.
No matter how they dipped or turned, I remained perfectly balanced, as if gravity itself had been changed to keep me safely in place.
The sky gates were a little disorienting, and I quickly learned not to look down when the air shimmered in front of us. The first time we’d gone through one, a building had blinked into a mountain so fast it made my head spin.
Eventually, the snowy peaks below grew larger, and the city lights became sparser until they disappeared altogether. We gradually descended toward an endless expanse of mountains, forests, and valleys, all blanketed in snow that glowed silvery blue under the moonlight.
My breath caught at the beauty. This wasn’t the manufactured winter wonderland of mall displays or holiday cards. This was winter in its purest form.
A town dotted with cabins appeared. I had absolutely no clue what time it was, but there was smoke rising from chimneys, lights coming through windows, and a few people and reindeer wandering about.
The herd dipped lower, and I saw a frozen lake glittering like polished glass beneath us. At its edge stood a massive cabin with a steep-pitched roof and stone chimneys. Windows glowed with warm light, and even from the air, I could see a wide wraparound porch circling the entire building.
Dane’s hooves touched down on the snow with impossible gentleness, the landing so smooth I barely felt the transition from air to ground. The rest of the herd landed around us, steam rising from them in the cold air.
I sat frozen in place, trying to process what had just happened.
“We’re here,” Rudy announced unnecessarily, hopping down from Don’s back.
I stared at him, then at the enormous cabin, then at the frozen lake stretching out into the darkness.
“Welcome to Klarhaven, the gateway to Jingle.” He approached Dane’s side and offered his hand to help me down.
My legs wobbled as I dismounted, but surprisingly there was no soreness. The only things I felt were a lingering sense of wonder and the dawning realization that Palm Springs was thousands of miles away.
I turned in a slow circle, taking in the landscape and the cabin. “This is... it can’t be real.”
Even as I said it, I knew it was. The bite of cold air in my lungs, the crunch of snow beneath my boots, the weight of reality settling over me. All of it was undeniably, irrevocably real.
“It’s all real,” Rudy confirmed, standing beside me as the reindeer began to shimmer and transform back into men. “And so are you, Neve.”
I’d never felt less real in my life.