Lacey was swimming through quicksand, bumping up against tree roots as she reached out with her arms, one by one, to take the next stroke. Why were there so many of them? Her fingers scratched against their barky skin, the rough sand granules chafing against her arms. She couldn’t complete a single stroke without having to weave under, over, through, and around them; and every time she thought she’d found a way past, more appeared.

  Obstacles, so many obstacles. They taunted her, developing faces, their voices echoing oddly around her. Albyrne, leaving green paint on everything he touched. Icy, sending a jagged fault line through a sculpture of an ice dove with one badly-placed beat of his ice pick. ‘She didn’t come this way, she didn’t come this way,’ Tinsel, Blinky, and Huey sang, as they danced in a circle through a rain of cards. And far away, behind them all, Elf told Bethy he loved her, while Bethy just replied with, ‘She went to see the Abominable Snowman.’ The echo of her voice was so soft, Lacey could barely hear her over the rest of the chaos.

  ‘This is your fault,’ Cynthie complained, as cookie timers on oversized chicken feet fled clattering from Melo’s coop. Danji laughed, handing out glasses of glühwein to everyone who spilled past her. For every glass she dealt out, she downed one herself. The dream was reaching a crescendo, with all the characters spilling together creating a babble of voices that drowned out all meaning. And then, it somehow combined into one familiar voice, speaking with unmistakable clarity.

  ‘You can’t make Christmas come,’ Cassie whispered beside her ear, her voice jerking Lacey out of the dream. She was in her bed at Mathilda’s, alone in the room.

  Her skin felt cold, yet her back was damp against the mattress. For a while she just lay there, taking one deep breath after another. The dream scenes circled through her mind, as she matched them with the events of the previous day, sorting for logic in the chaos. Gradually, her whole body became cold, and she pulled the covers back over her.

  It didn’t help. With all her body heat dissipated into the night, the cold blankets just chilled her more. It felt like the other covers on that too-thin mattress. In one brief moment, the whole situation clicked into place, the facets neatly aligned with the other time. Why, she wasn’t even sleeping in her own pyjamas. Everything she owned here was borrowed from Mathilda, just like the little pack of flimsy sleepwear the nurse in the empty ward had handed her.

  To be fair, they had tried to liven it up with coloured drawings and cutesy posters, but at that point she hadn’t been in a mood to appreciate much. After all, this was right after she had made her mistake and Christmas had never been the same again.

  Funny how she ended up in a place all about Christmas now. You’d think that she would’ve felt more uncomfortable here, with everything it represented. In a way, she could thank Jinxy for that – not that she wanted the elf to be gone – but her mystery had given Lacey something to focus on beyond the season surrounding her here. A touchstone with which to keep her present, if you will.

  If Jinxy couldn’t be found… She squirmed anxiously underneath the borrowed covers, finally getting up and taking her notebook out of her carry bag. It was proof of the work she was doing and her progress, how uncertain it might be. And she could keep adding to it, until she got it right.

  Her eye caught the snowflake candy cane, still basking in the starlight on the windowsill. Her heart slowly stilled as she watched the little pinpricks of light glittering from it. As if aware of her gaze, it gave a little flare of acknowledgement, warming her heart further. She closed her eyes, savouring the feeling. It was a welcome contrast to the turmoil of the dream, and the loneliness her memories had sparked.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  Suddenly, she feared for it. It was so special, what if someone saw it on the windowsill and took it from her? She couldn’t bear the thought. Looking around, she removed it from the starlight and placed it deep into the closet. Its shine dulled a bit in the dark, but that was okay. It would be safe. She rearranged the clothes to cover it, accepting that she couldn’t completely block its shine through the layers.

  The notebook she took back to bed with her, hugging it close as she settled in underneath the blankets. Tomorrow she would get back to work, following every lead. If she had to personally interview every single elf in the village, she would do it. Christmas just wouldn’t be the same without Jinxy.

  ??

  Blessday dawned, shining its rays on Lacey where she lay in bed. She unfolded her arms from the notebook she fell asleep with. One of its corners had bent a little. After flipping it back into position, she carefully smoothed the crease.

  Sudden knocking hammered through the cottage.

  ‘Mathilda! Mathilda, help! It’s Elf!’ Bethy’s voice sounded from the outside.

  ‘I’m coming!’ Mathilda responded from the room beside Lacey’s.

  Lacey jumped up, grabbing a robe and opening her door just in time to see Mathilda fly out of her bedroom, a half-arranged scarf flapping from her neck as she sprinted down the stairs.

  ‘Lacey, go ahead and have breakfast. I’ll be back when I can,’ she called over her shoulder, stuffing her arms into her coat and grabbing the medicine bag that sat ready by the entrance. The door slammed shut behind her, and Lacey watched as Mathilda and Bethy hurried off through the snow.

  She was alone now. Feeling a weight in her hand, she looked down to see that she still held her notebook. Making her way into the kitchen, she dropped it on the table, thinking she could keep working on Jinxy’s mystery over breakfast.

  The comfy silence of the house wrapped around her, as she rummaged through the pantry. What should I make? she wondered. It’s not like they had convenient boxes of cereal in the village. Pulling out some odds and ends, she set the table with leftover bread, with butter and jam. She also put out some cheeses, and a few links of cold breakfast sausage. There, I can eat and there’s food for Mathilda too when she comes home.

  She’d barely finished the thought, when a cabal of angry squawks, claps, and hisses erupted out in the street. What is that? she cautiously pulled the back door open, peering outside. It was Peter. He was running at full speed, being chased by a gaggle of geese, angrily honking, flapping, and doing their best to peck at him. One lunged forward, its beak missing Peter’s ankle by a breath. Peter drew ahead in a burst of speed, as if he had sensed his close call.

  Seeing the door open, he put all his energy into one last charge, pushing past her and slamming the door behind him. ‘Thank the Saints!’ he huffed, as he sagged backwards against the door. There was a slight thud, the lead goose not able to stop fast enough, followed by indignant squawks from the other side of the wood.

  ‘What was that?’ Lacey asked, amazed. ‘Did you do something to them?’

  ‘If wearing red means doing something, then yes.’ Still out of breath, he pushed away from the door, moving to sit at the table. ‘They hate red, and since my coat is the largest piece of red clothing in the village, that apparently makes me their number one enemy. Never mind that I’m the one who’ll feed them every day while they’re here. You may want to watch out too, since they’ve seen you saving me now.’

  ‘What? But I didn’t do anything,’ she said.

  ‘Doesn’t matter, they don’t care. Ooh, breakfast looks good, where’s Mathilda?’ he seamlessly switched topics.

  ‘Bethy fetched her – there’s something wrong with Elf.’

  ‘Oh,’ he paused, frowning. ‘I wondered why he wasn’t at the meeting last night. I hope it’s not too bad.’

  ‘Me too,’ Lacey said, sitting down and pulling the bread towards her. ‘I suppose we got half the mystery solved now, except that it’s the least important part.’

  Peter nodded, pressing his lips together. ‘Yes, that’s true. I would rather have found Jinxy than the five golden rings. But at least we can eliminate some of our clues now. That might help highlight what’s really important to us. What’s that book you have here?’

  Lacey looked down at her special notebook, lying closed on the table.

  ??????

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