Chapter 7
NEO
I creep around the elf, my fingers grazing his shoulder to keep him rooted. I can see that behind the bad boy he pretends to be, he’s just shy. And a shy person is easier to bend than an angry person is.
Nox’s eyes won’t leave my body. The weight of the ribbon that’s tied around his hand is like a sealed vow between us. He trusts me; he knows I am just playing. "We’re not doing this for you," I tell the elf quietly enough that it feels like a verdict. "We’re doing it for the kids."
I pull my coat around my shoulders in one practiced motion, then I pause and look at both of them. "Are you two coming, or are you going to babysit each other until I come back?" I tease.
Nox shows a half-smile, the sound of his laugh small and dangerous.
"I’m coming," he says. "But you owe me a plan love, and it better involve me strangling an elf.
" Nox bumps my shoulder with his arm, kisses my forehead and we step into the dark together, the door closing behind us like a promise and a dare.
***
The red train groans to life with a puff of peppermint-scented steam and a jingle that sounds suspicious, like laughter from someone unseen. We climb aboard the cabin, where the seats are stitched with bright red velvet material and the windows are frosted in swirling patterns.
The train jolts forward with a cheerful menace, rattling along tracks that glow faintly red and green beneath the snow.
Outside, Mournton blurs past in a parade of black crooked rooftops, haunted candy canes and snowmen that wave with too many arms. I clutch my knitted black scarf between my fingers, my heart thudding with anticipation and unease.
"This is festive..." I mutter, and Nox responds immediately by kissing my forehead and sitting down.
"In a cursed toy factory kind of way," he grins, lounging like he belongs in a nightmare wrapped in tinsel. "I love it. It feels like we’re riding straight into a gingerbread trap." He takes out a cigarette.
"You can’t smoke on the train!" The elf sits across from us; he looks twitchy and pale, clutching the tickets like they might bite him.
"Stop me." Nox lights his cigarette and inhales the chemicals, blowing the smoke towards the elf.
The cabin lights flicker overhead—then slow down like they are thinking about something.
One bulb pops with something that sounds like a giggling sneeze, and shadows stretch just a little too far across the velvet seats.
Nox raises an eyebrow, clearly amused, ready to choke something if it comes to that.
The elf leans forward with a twitchy sort of concern.
"Are you… haunted?" the elf asks, his voice is thin, like someone trying not to wake a ghost. "Because the lights only flicker when someone’s carrying unresolved emotional baggage, a cursed heirloom or a ghost with opinions."
I blink at him. "No…"
Nox laughs. "They are ready to cut off your head if things go wrong," he whispers to the elf, deadpan.
The elf nods solemnly, as if that confirms everything he feared. Then he scoots half an inch farther away, closer to the door, just in case my aura decides to start narrating its trauma.
"So, no one is haunted? Because mixing Halloween vibes with Christmas ones is already weird enough." He asks again.
I give the elf a look, and the train rattles over a crooked bend in the tracks. A chorus of bells jingle from somewhere deep in the engine, like it is laughing at him.
"I’m not haunted." I tell the elf, raising my voice, "I just have a complicated relationship with seasonal magic and unresolved trauma."
The elf blinks. "That’s... basically haunted."
Nox leans back in his seat, his arms crossed, smirking like he’d just won a bet with fate. "She’s haunted. I’m cursed. You’re twitchy. It’s a miracle this train hasn’t derailed yet."
The elf leans in, his blue eyes dart up towards the flickering cabin lights. "I should probably warn you," he whispers, his fingers brushing the tickets. "The conductor… he’s a snowman."
"Like a jolly one?" I ask him, my hand reaching for Nox’s knee.
The elf shakes his head slowly, dramatically. "No. He’s… frostbitten with authority."
Nox raises an eyebrow. "What does that even mean?"
"He wears a conductor’s cap stitched from coal dust and disappointment. His whistle sounds like someone screaming into a snowbank. And if your ticket’s not in order, he’ll stare at you until you remember every bad thing you’ve ever done during the holidays."
I lean back, unimpressed. "So, a mean Frosty with a clipboard?"
The elf nods. "Exactly. And he knows if you’ve been naughty." His eyes land on Nox.
"Oh, we have been..."
Suddenly, the train gives a cheerful jolt, and a shadow passes by the cabin’s window—a shadow with a round silhouette with a carrot nose and glowing coal eyes. A distant whistle echoes through the cabin, followed by the sound of sleigh bells… and judgment.
Nox smirks. "Well, I guess we better behave. Or he might melt."
I look out the window, watching the silhouette of the snowman conductor glide past. "He’s got coal eyes," I let them know. "Like, actual coal. And they glow. That’s sooo cute."
The elf nods rapidly. "He sees through lies, and poor holiday spirit. And sometimes walls."
Nox tilts his head. "Wow! I won’t survive this shit?"
"I’ll be so sorry for your loss," he tells me with a naughty smile on his face. Before Nox can punch him, the cabin door slides open with a dramatic shhhk and the conductor steps in. He has three perfectly stacked snowballs, a crooked carrot nose, and a conductor’s cap that looks like it survived both a blizzard and a tax audit.
His coal eyes glow faintly, and his scarf is red. The elf gives us each our tickets.
The snowman doesn’t speak... he just holds out a mitten'd hand.
The elf fumbles with his own ticket, drops it, picks it back up and offers it with both hands like a peace treaty.
For a long, uncomfortable moment, the conductor stares at it.
Then he stamps it with a sound like as if sleigh bell being strangled.
Nox follows; he’s smirking like he is daring the snowman to blink first.
"I don’t like you." His frosty little voice flows towards Nox.
I hold out my ticket with a steady hand, the parchment warm from my touch and faintly glowing with a shimmer of red and gold.
The conductor looms over me, his coal eyes flickering like dying embers, his carrot nose slightly wilted from the train’s peppermint steam.
He reaches out with a mitten'd hand, slow and deliberate, and brushed the edge of the ticket.
The moment his snowy fingers make contact, the cabin lights flare, the train gives a hiccup and the snowman lets out a sound that is half a sigh, half a fart.
His coal eyes widen, then dim. And with a soft whump, he melts straight down into a puddle of slush and coal buttons, his hat landing with a tragic little plop.
I blink. "Was that supposed to happen?"
The elf gasps. "No! No, no, no! That only happens when someone’s too warm, or cursed, or both!"
Nox leans over, peering at the puddle. "Fuck! My shoes are wet!"
I stare at the glowing ticket still in my hand. "I think I broke Christmas."
"Go find a bucket!" The elf stands up while telling Nox.
"You go." Nox is now suddenly towering in front of the elf.
"Your girlfriend broke him!"
"What’s your name again? It will be DEAD! If you say something about her ever again!"
The tension in the cabin snaps like a brittle candy cane. Nox stands tall, fists clenched; his shadow stretches across the velvet floor. "You knew he was unstable," Nox growls, voice low and sharp. "And you didn’t think to mention that touching something warm could turn him into a puddle?"
The elf gasps, his ears twitching like offended antennae. "Excuse me, Mr. Brooding and Mysterious, but I didn’t know she’s infused with emotional nuclear fallout!"
Oh boy… here we go...
"You’re supposed to be the expert," Nox snaps, stepping closer. "You’ve got a face full of secrets and a nervous twitch that screams ‘I’ve seen things.’"
The elf puffs up, clutching his ticket like it’s a shield.
He is muscular and tall too, not like Nox, but still.
.. They look like two Dobermans, one black, the other white, about to kill each other.
"And you’re supposed to be the charming rogue!
But all I’ve seen is sarcasm, fangs and a complete lack of respect for magical protocol! "
"Oh, I respect magic," Nox says, smiling. "I just hate you."
The elf gasps like he’d been slapped with a frosty mitten. "You take that back!"
I sigh, "Boys, if you’re done reenacting a cursed holiday special, maybe we can focus on the fact that the conductor melted and we’re now on a train heading straight into Christmas town."
They both turn to me, slightly chastened. The elf mutters, "I think your bat boy is haunted."
Nox rolls his eyes. "And I think you’re allergic to me."
The train whistles ominously, as if agreeing with both of them. I crouch beside the puddle of slush and coal buttons, staring at the remains of the snowman like I’d just knocked over a sacred holiday relic. The hat lays askew, steaming faintly.
"We can’t just leave him," I say, looking around.
Nox raises an eyebrow. "You want to scoop up a melted authority figure and carry him around like a seasonal smoothie?"
The elf kneels beside me. "We have to! It’s protocol! If he melts, you collect the remains and return them to the Frost Vault before midnight. If not… he will reform with extra grievances."
I don’t hesitate and grab a plastic bag from my purse. I throw the marshmallows out of the bag, and they squeak in protest, rolling away. Then, I start to ladle the slush into the bag using a cracked candy cane I found under the seat.
Nox watches, his arms crossed, clearly enjoying himself. "This is the weirdest cleanup I’ve ever seen."
The elf arranges the coal buttons into a neat little pile. "Be gentle! His memory is stored in the carrot. If it bruises, he’ll forget how to jingle."
"Oh, for fuck's sake." I can hear Nox behind me. I carefully place the carrot nose on top of the slush, like a cherry on a very cursed sundae.
"Okay. He’s in. Now what?"
The elf looks around. "Now we keep him cold, keep him quiet and don’t let him hear any off-key caroling. That triggers his rage cycle."
Nox crouches beside me, peering into the slushy remains of the snowman. "Oooooh, frosty friend..."
I look at him terrified and with raised eyebrows. "You’re not seriously going to sing to him."
"Oh, I’m absolutely going to sing to him," Nox says, grinning like a mischievous ornament. "He melted onto your ticket. That’s romantic, tragic and weirdly festive. He deserves a send-off."
The elf whimpers from the corner. "Please don’t.
If he hears off-key singing…" Nox ignores him.
He clears his throat dramatically and launches into a sultry.
He sings slightly sinister rendition of a holiday tune that has to be banned from every mall.
His voice sounds smooth, smoky and just a little too theatrical.
"Oh, frosty friend, you puddled fast…"
I look at the bag. "Is he… bubbling?"
The elf shrieks. "He’s responding! Stop singing!"
Nox keeps going, now adding finger snaps and a dramatic wink towards the carrot nose.
"Let me try again… Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow…"
The elf stares at the bag in horror. "Do you want to die by sleigh bells?"
The bag burbles ominously.
Nox winks. "Only if they have rhythm."
I sigh. "This is going to be a long ride."