Under the Lights of Northernmost

Chapter 1

Saint Nicholas – otherwise known as Santa – stood in his office at the picture window, staring out at the Well of Magic and the glow of the Northern Lights in the sky.

It was December first, Christmas was a mere twenty-four days away, and that meant his brother Angel, known to the world as Jack Frost, would spend every waking moment trying to kill him.

So that he could gain control of the good magic of the world.

The only thing between the good magic users of the world and utter destruction at the dark-magic-wielding hands of his brother was Saint and the Yuletide Guardians, shifters who lived and worked at Northernmost and kept the Well safe.

More than his brother’s vendetta against him, Saint’s mind was on the children of the world.

His hand flexed, the letter addressed to him at the North Pole in his grip. The young boy had written, asking for a particular toy for himself and something for his baby sister, which had brought a smile to Saint’s face. But the last few lines had made him pause:

And could you stop the bad dreams? All my friends have them too. I’m scared to sleep, but Mommy says the boogeyman can’t get me, and I should think good thoughts, but it’s really bad. If I only get one wish for Christmas, take the nightmares away.

The Northern Lights pulsed in the sky, yellows and greens and blues, mirrored in the Well’s glow.

The good magic users of the world came to the Well through the Portal, which stood at the edge of Northernmost, made of the bones of an ancient, extinct magical beast. Only good magic users could utilize the Well and come through the Portal into Northernmost. But that didn’t stop Angel and his evil followers from trying their damnedest to get in.

And now the children of the world were being plagued by nightmares? Enough to give up their Christmas wishes to ask Santa to intervene?

His gaze moved from the Well to the darkness beyond.

Out in the freezing dark night was his brother’s lair.

He was gearing up for Winter Solstice, when he’d blanket the world in winter.

Because he was evil now, filled with malice and hate, he couldn’t get into Northernmost or replenish his warlock magic at the Well.

He had to steal magic from good magic users like elves, warlocks, and witches.

Sometimes he simply stole their magic and returned them to the world as human, but sometimes he killed them.

Or he turned them into one of his followers, a shadow of who they’d been before, with black eyes and gray skin.

What are you up to, brother?

Saint turned from the window, opened the letter, and read the last few lines again.

Was Nightmare, the most powerful evil dream walker in the world, up to his old tricks and going after children to feed his dark nature?

Or was there something more to it? Nightmare and Angel were friends. Darkness loved darkness, after all.

But would they team up? And to what end?

There was a knock on his door and he called for whoever it was to come in as he sat heavily behind his desk.

Tami, an elf who worked in the office, opened the door. “Santa, I’ve got that stack of letters you asked for.”

He motioned for her to bring them in, and she set a tall stack of open letters in front of him.

“Damn.”

“Yeah,” she said, with a rue-filled gaze. “Almost every letter has something about bad dreams in it. Oh, and Mother Nature asked you to call her.”

“Thank you, Tami.”

She nodded and left, closing the door behind her.

He picked up the phone and reached out to Ehrik Rule, otherwise known as Sandman, Nightmare’s counterpoint.

Where Nightmare was corrupt and fed his magical nature from the fear created by nightmares, Sandman and his good dream walkers fed their nature from the peace and happiness that came from good dreams.

“Sandman.”

“It’s Saint.”

“Hello, Santa, how are you faring?”

Saint settled back in the big leather chair and rubbed the space between his brows with his thumb. “I’ll get right to the point,” he said. “Nightmare is up to something, and I believe it may be connected to Angel’s interest in taking over the Well of Magic.”

Ehrik sighed. “My people and I have seen an uptick in nightmares. We always have to deal with them, but it’s been worse lately. As if he’s ramping up to something, but I can’t imagine what that might be.”

“Christmas,” Saint said. He swiveled in the chair, his gaze catching on the fireplace mantel where two stockings hung.

One for himself and one for his wife, who’d been killed by Angel years ago in retaliation for the belief that Saint had taken out Angel’s wife.

But he hadn’t. One of Angel’s own people had.

Shaking his head to dispel the sorrow that always plagued him at his own loss, he listened as Ehrik told him about the bad dreams they were combatting, promising to let Saint know if he saw anything suspicious.

While Nightmare couldn’t get into Northernmost, he could still attack the dreams of their people because his magic was just that strong.

After hanging up, he was about to call Tami in to ask her to send a message to the elves who called Northernmost home, cautioning them about Nightmare’s increased activity and instructing them to tell the security team if they had any particularly bad dreams.

First, though, he called Sylvaine, known as Mother Nature, the most powerful witch in the world.

“Hello, Sylvaine,” he said when she answered, her musical voice lilting across the line.

“Well, Happy December first to you, Saint. Thank you for returning my call.”

“Of course. What can I do for you?”

He hoped she didn’t want to share bad news. Last year at this time, Angel had gone after witches and warlocks, abducting them and turning them human, dumping them off, magicless, in Mother Nature’s coven’s territory.

“I wanted to let you know that Calista and I are ready to bring Seth to Northernmost,” she said. Calista was the most powerful fairy, and the head of the Tooth Fairies.

“Good,” Saint said. “The Portal is closed for the month, as you know, except for extreme circumstances, so I’m going to send Pixie to open the special portal for you. How many? I’ll create extra wards for concealment.”

“Me, Calista, Seth, and two others for security.”

“Give me an hour to get the wards ready. Thank you for this.”

“You’re welcome. This is the Christmas your brother will be stopped for good, I’m certain.”

“I hope fate is on our side,” Saint said.

The call ended and he rose to his feet, his fingers resting for a moment on the stack of children’s letters. He’d deal with Nightmare later, if he was in fact working in tandem with Angel.

For now, he had wards to create to keep Seth and the others safe from Angel.

His brother was most powerful on Winter Solstice, but that didn’t make him any less dangerous today.

Saint had reached his limit with his brother. He’d killed too many in the name of taking over the Well of Magic and trying to murder Saint. He could not be allowed to succeed.

Which was where Seth came in.

One way or another, this would be the last Christmas Saint and Angel clashed.

He just hoped fate was on his side, since Christmas and the good magic of the world depended on it.