Krampus

Chapter Seven Naughty List

Footsteps, heavy, stomping footfalls coming up the stairs. Jesse found himself in his childhood room. He was six, maybe seven years old, and it was Christmas. The banister was strung with tinsel and Christmas lights and they blinked and sparkled. A large shadow blocked out the lights as it marched up the stairs. “Ho, ho, ho,” boomed a voice, one laced with judgment and condemnation. “Have you been naughty, Jesse? Hmm? Have you?” Jesse began to shake; he tugged the covers up to his neck. Santa pushed through the door, his burly figure so massive he barely fit through the frame. He crossed to Jesse’s bedside, carrying a large sack, a blood-colored sack, slung across his shoulder. He stood there towering, looming, his tiny black eyes locked on Jesse as though weighing his soul.

Santa rolled the sack off his shoulder and onto the bed. The sack was moving, as though full of dogs and cats perhaps. Jesse heard what sounded like muffled mewing and cries, but knew it couldn’t be, not coming from Santa’s sack. Santa shook his head sadly. “You’ve been naughty, Jesse. Very, very naughty.” Jesse tried to speak, tried to say that he was a good boy, but his mouth couldn’t form the words.

Six hunched figures crept up behind Santa, glistening skin, dark as pitch, twisting horns protruding from their scalps and long red tongues lolling from between black teeth. They looked at Jesse as though he’d be good to eat.

Santa loosened the cord and opened the sack and now Jesse could clearly hear the cries, and they weren’t from cats and dogs, but children, screaming and moaning as though in great pain.

Santa jabbed a chubby finger at Jesse. “He is on the naughty list. Put him in the sack.” The devils all grinned, rubbed their long fingers together, and reached for Jesse.

Jesse opened his eyes and found himself still in a room with six devils; their hunched figures silhouetted by the flickering glow of the potbellied stove. The church was dark and he realized it was night, wondered how long he’d been asleep. Something smelled foul; he sniffed. Blood?

Jesse scanned the shadows and found huge, unblinking eyes staring back at him. He sat up.

A cow, or at least its head, sat atop a chest, blood dripping down its tongue onto the floor. Whoa, he thought. Where’d that come from? He spotted a large steel wash tub against the wall. He made out a rump, flank, and two legs jutting up. Someone is gonna miss that cow. Something else was new: mistletoe, several piles of it. It looked as though someone had been whittling spikes out of the branches.

He climbed to his feet, swayed, put out a hand to steady himself, still a bit light-headed from the mead. No headache, not like a hangover at all, just a slight buzz. His stomach growled. He hoped to find something to eat besides raw beef. He skirted around the mistletoe and came up behind the Belsnickels. They sat huddled around Krampus’s sack.

“No, Krampus,” Vernon grumbled. “That’s not right.”

Krampus held what appeared to be a black powder pistol. Jesse moved up for a closer look and noticed there were two swords, a shield, and an old, rusty revolver lying on the floor.

Jesse squatted next to Isabel. “What’s going on?”

Vernon answered, “We’re trying to get him to find us some acceptable weaponry. You know, in case, say, just by happenstance, a giant wolf or some other monstrosity should come along.”

“He can pull anything out of there?” Jesse asked. “Not just toys?”

Krampus nodded distractedly.

Jesse agreed with Vernon, some updated weaponry would be very good to have indeed, and would certainly be in order when they stormed the General’s compound. “You need some automatic weapons. A few assault rifles would do the trick.”

“That’s just what I was telling him,” Vernon said, not hiding his annoyance. “Modern weapons, Krampus. You’ve seen pictures of them in the newspaper.”

Krampus raised his hands in obvious frustration. “It is not so easy as that. One must first know what it is one is searching for.”

“Might be able to help,” Jesse put in.

Krampus looked up at him, considered. “Yes, maybe you can. Come here.” He patted the floor next to him. “Sit.”

Jesse came over and Krampus pulled the sack between them.

“The sack finds what I wish. But first I must know what it is that I seek. And further, it is easier if the sack knows where to look. Easier and far less draining, and until I have my strength back, I must ration my efforts.”

“Okay, sure. What do I do?”

“You help me to seek. You are not of Loki’s bloodline, so the sack will not obey you. Thus we must work together. We both must hold the sack. You will think of a location and an item and I will direct the sack to obey.”

“I know how,” Jesse said. “I used it before. Took a few toys out of it.”

“That is not the same. You merely reached through a door that was already open.”

“No, I thought of a certain toy and the sack found it.”

Krampus raised an eyebrow. “That is indeed something. Perhaps there is a trace of Loki’s spirit in you somewhere. But still, that is not opening doors. You could never do that, not on your own. But it says something that the sack would hear you at all.” Krampus smiled. “That is good, it should make our task the easier.”

“What-all are you looking for?”

“Guns,” Vernon interjected. “Very good guns. Something that will punch enormous holes through giant wolves.”

“Money,” Isabel added. “There’s things we’ll need to buy—things we can’t get with the sack. Least not until Krampus is stronger.”

“Do you know of a place to find these things?” Krampus asked. “Keeping in mind the fewer doors I must open the better.”

Jesse grinned. He did, he did indeed. He’d never actually been inside the General’s office, but once, when Chet left the door open, he’d caught a pretty good peek, and the thing that stuck with him was the safe sitting in the corner. It was an old-fashioned safe, nearly as large as a washing machine, with a large brass dial set into its front. Jesse knew for certain the General stored guns in there, had to be cash as well, and no telling what-all else. Sure would hate to steal from the General, Jesse thought. Be a real shame. “Oh, I know a spot alright.”

“Good,” Krampus said. “Place your palms on the sack.”

Jesse did.

“Close your eyes and seek.”

“Seek?”

“Just close your eyes and it will come to you.”

Jesse shrugged, closed his eyes, and imagined the compound, then the motor bay, then the General’s upstairs office. Nothing special seemed to be happening. Then Krampus laid his hands atop of Jesse’s and slowly the vision sharpened, details he’d never seen materialized. The safe sat in the corner. Jesse steered his mind toward it and the vision followed, it was just that easy, then he went into it and all was dark.

“This is the place?” Krampus asked. “Inside the chest?”

“Yup.”

Krampus’s hold tightened and Jesse felt a slight charge.

Krampus pulled their hands away. “It is done.”

“That’s it?”

“The sack responds well to you, Jesse.” Krampus looked at him kindly, almost paternally. “Maybe a touch of Loki’s blood does indeed run in your veins.”

“So, I can just reach in there and take whatever I like?”

“You can, but be aware you are putting your hand into that other place. Your arm and hand will be visible to anyone who happens to be near. This can lead to trouble, to loss of limb, to even being pulled into the sack, into the very place you are robbing.”

Jesse hesitated. “But it is a safe. No one will be in the safe.”

“No, so long as the chest is closed, no one can see you.”

Jesse loosened the mouth of the sack, peered into its smoky shadows. “All right, here goes.” He inserted his hand until he bumped a wall. It felt right, like cold steel. He pushed downward until his fingers hit something hard, cylindrical. He grasped it, could tell by the weight it was a gun. He pulled his hand out, very pleased with what he found.

A minute later he had three machine pistols, several handguns, one sawed-off shotgun, a couple dozen boxes of ammunition, and stacks and stacks of hundred-dollar bills. But there were more surprises in the General’s safe: an unopened bottle of aged bourbon; an assortment of pills—amphetamines, by the look of them; what appeared to be several grams of pure cocaine, not crack but the real deal; keys to who knew what; all sorts of contracts and promissory notes; an envelope full of Polaroids of some woman that looked an awful lot like Jesse’s third-grade teacher, Mrs. Sawyer, in her birthday suit. Jesse wrinkled up his face but didn’t stop until the safe was empty. It felt good to take something back from a man who’d stolen so much from him, and knowing he’d be using the General’s own guns against him made the act all the sweeter. He grinned at Krampus.

Krampus grinned back. “You are enjoying yourself.”

“It’s empty.”

“Then we’re done.”

Jesse looked over the loot, at the cash, at all the guns and ammo. He nodded and let out a deep breath, suddenly feeling drained.

“You are weary?”

“Need something to eat, that’s all.”

“It is the sack. It takes a toll.”

Jesse wondered just what part of him the sack had taken that toll from.

“You should eat,” Krampus said, nodding toward the tub holding the beef.

Jesse looked at the cow leg. He was just about hungry enough to eat it raw, but figured roasting a few strips over the stove would suit him better. He hopped up and started over, caught sight of the cow head and stopped. “Hey,” Jesse called. “Is it possible to put something back? Back in the safe?”

Krampus raised an eyebrow. “Yes, it is possible. Once the door is open it will stay open until I open a new one.”

Jesse lifted the cow head by the ear and brought it back. “That safe belongs to the man that put this hole through my hand.”

Krampus nodded, grinned, and held the sack open. Jesse dropped the head inside. “Jesse, you are certainly a man after my own heart.”

ISABEL WALKED WITH Jesse along the gravel road, glad to be out of the moldy-smelling church. It was night and they were headed to a mini-mart called Pepper’s, which Jesse claimed to be about two miles back down on Route 3. They’d decided to walk instead of risking anyone seeing the truck or chance the vehicle running out of fuel. Jesse carried the empty gas can he’d retrieved out of the camper, gas being one of the things Krampus couldn’t pull out of his sack.

“Man, what I wouldn’t give to see the General’s face when he comes eye-to-eye with that cow head,” Jesse said with a laugh. “Over forty thousand dollars gone. Poof! That man is just gonna pee himself.”

Isabel shook her head distractedly, scanning the shadows, keeping an ear out for any suspicious sounds, any sign or hint that Santa Claus or the wolves might be near.

Jesse gave her a light shove. “Hey, c’mon, it’s funny. I’m telling you. You gotta understand that man’s the biggest son of a whore in all of Boone County. Hell, maybe in all of West Virginia.”

Isabel managed a smile. She liked it when he looked at her, liked his green eyes, the line of his jaw, but most of all she liked his laugh—kind and warm, and full of life. It’s nice, she thought, taking a walk with someone that’s not as ancient as the hills. Don’t hurt none that he’s easy on the eyes, she admitted. No, not one bit. She considered what it’d be like to hold his hand. It’d been a long time since she’d held hands with anyone. Not since her Daniel, and that had been over forty years ago now. But she knew this man wouldn’t want to hold her hand; she knew what she looked like now.

“Okay, so you gotta help me out here,” Jesse said. “Lord, where do I even start? None of this makes a lick of sense. Santa Claus, and giant wolves, and . . . shit, just what the hell is that Krampus guy? How in the heck did you ever end up with that devil?”

“He’s not a devil.”

Jesse halted. “Wait, did I get something wrong here? Aren’t you his slave? Didn’t he do this to you?” He gestured at her face. “Turn you into a monster?”

Isabel’s cheeks burned. She looked away, surprised by how much his words stung. “He saved my life,” she said, zipping up her jacket and pulling the hood over her head, hiding her face within its shadow. She walked on, leaving him standing there.

Jesse caught up.

“Well, that still doesn’t give him the right to make you his slave.”

“It’s not like that. You wouldn’t understand.”

“That’s ’cause it don’t make any sense.”

“And I ain’t no monster. I’m a woman. If you weren’t so thick you’d be able to see that.”

Jesse put up his hands. “Didn’t mean it like that.”

Isabel walked faster, leaving him behind.

“Ah, c’mon, Isabel. Slow down. I’m sorry.”

“I tried to kill myself, okay? Be bones in the ground, too, if weren’t for Krampus.”

“Kill yourself? Well, now why would you want to go and do a thing like that for?”

“That really ain’t none of your business. Is it?”

Jesse frowned, nodded. “You’re right, I’m sorry. It ain’t none of my business.”

She kept walking.

“Didn’t mean to pry,” he said. “Just trying to make sense of this whole thing. I mean it, I’m sorry.”

Isabel slowed, sucked in a deep breath of the cold night air. “I’d got myself into a bad situation. Seemed things just kept getting worse. I guess I tried to take the easy way out, okay?”

“Isabel, you don’t need to be explaining yourself to me.”

They continued on in silence. Isabel wanted to say more, ached to talk to someone other than Vernon and the Shawnee, someone young, someone with clear, sympathetic eyes. But opening up had never come easy for her, and she didn’t know this man. Just because he had a warm laugh and kind eyes didn’t mean he could be trusted. And you didn’t just start telling some stranger about how you got pregnant at sixteen, not unless you were prepared to have them look at you like you’re some kind of hill trash. But it hadn’t been some cheap hookup. Maybe if it had, the whole thing would’ve been easier. Isabel felt tears stinging her eyes and quickly blinked them away. Don’t you start. Just let it lie, girl. It always caught her off guard how bad it still hurt, even after all these years. She tried not to think about her baby growing up without a mother. How maybe if she’d been stronger, she’d be with him right now.

“I was sixteen when I ran away from home, ran away from everything. I wasn’t thinking straight, found myself up here in these hills. It was winter and cold, didn’t know what to do. Couldn’t see no way to fix the things I’d done. Walked out on a ledge and looked down at the rocks below and there was my answer . . . the answer to all the pain and heartache.” Isabel found she was crying. “Wish I’d had better presence of mind. I just felt so bad about everything . . . so bad. Just wanted all that hurting to end.” She wiped at her tears. “Dammit, didn’t mean to start all this blubbering.”

Jesse put an arm around her. Isabel had not had anyone touch her, not like that, not in over forty years. She covered her face and began to sob.

“I looked up into the stars,” she said. “Begged the Good Lord to forgive me, and walked right off that ledge.”

“Jesus, Isabel.”

“Well, I should’ve picked a taller cliff, ’cause that fall . . . it didn’t kill me.” She let out a mean laugh. “Just broke a bunch of bones. I couldn’t move. Just laid there crying and screaming. The pain was something awful.” She moved away from Jesse and wiped her sleeve across her face. “Well, it was them Shawnee that found me. They brought me to Krampus. I’m guessing I broke something in my spine, ’cause I could move but one arm, couldn’t feel a thing below my waist. Things were getting fuzzy. I believe I was dying. And that’s when Krampus bit me.”

“Bit you?”

“Uh-huh. That’s how he does it. Turns people. Something to do with mixing his blood is the way he tells it. Whatever it is he does, it saved my life. Healed me right up. About two days later I was up and walking about. Only that wasn’t all it done.” She held out her hands, looked at the jagged black nails protruding from her scaly fingers. “Didn’t always look like a monster y’know, used to have fair skin and long red hair. Owned a couple of pretty dresses, too.”

They walked on a long time without either of them speaking.

“So that’s why you stay, because he saved you?”

She looked up into the night, let the light snow hit her face. “No,” she said, knowing she’d go looking for her son if she could. She knew her boy would be in his forties by now, wouldn’t know her from Adam, and probably wouldn’t want to, either, not after she’d abandoned him. But she would sure like to see who he turned into. See if he had his father’s eyes. “I’d leave right this minute if I could.”

“Well, what’s stopping you?”

“Krampus forbid us from going into town. From going near folks when we can help it. Doesn’t want anyone seeing us. Or at least he didn’t. Y’know, back when he was all chained up. He’d send one of us into town every now and again to steal a newspaper, raid the library for any books on Santa Claus, or maybe if there was some other odd thing we needed that we couldn’t make for ourselves.”

“And, let me guess, there’s some sort of reason you got to obey him? He’s put a spell on you? Hypnotized you?”

She nodded. “That’s pretty much so. Once we turned, when he gives us a direct command, we’re powerless to do anything else. It’s like becoming a puppet. You no longer think, you just do.”

“And he’s ordered you to stick around, I take it.”

“He made us take this oath. Y’know, not to run off, to protect him, to take care of him, and other stuff like that.”

“Don’t leave much of a life for a young lady.”

“I try not to think on it too much.” She could see the mini-mart sign now, glowing not more than a quarter-mile ahead.

“What is he?” Jesse asked.

“Krampus?”

He laughed. “Who else would I be talking about?”

Isabel managed a smile. “Couldn’t tell you for sure. The Shawnee think he’s a forest god. Shoot, they’re so goddamn infatuated with him there wasn’t even need for him to have changed them. I guess he must’ve done it so they’d not grow old. Makwa told me that his whole tribe used to bring Krampus offerings since way back before the first white settlers even showed up.”

“And Vernon, I’m guessing he didn’t volunteer?”

She laughed. “He was surveying for the coal company sometime back first part of last century. He found Krampus by accident. Krampus, of course, wouldn’t let him go after that. So lucky Vernon’s been stuck with them stubborn Indians for company for going on nearly a century. And if you give him half the chance he’ll be glad to chew on your ear about it, too, let me tell you.”

They approached the store, skirting a mound of dirty snow piled along one end of the parking lot, and stopped in the shadow of a Dumpster. Isabel stared through the large front window at the goods inside the little mart. They sold a small selection of groceries and home basics, as well as local crafts and souvenirs: pecan rolls, jams, jellies, sausage and jerky, quilts, coon caps, key chains, magnets, and Indian jewelry made in China. She’d not been inside a store since before she was pregnant, and found herself mesmerized by the colorful displays and flashy packaging. Wouldn’t mind, she thought, spending a bit of time in there. Wouldn’t mind at all.

Jesse dug a roll of bills from his breast pocket. Flipped through them. “Shoot, it’s all hundreds.” He snorted. “Never thought there’d be a day when I’d catch myself complaining about having too many hundred-dollar bills. Ah, here we go.” He peeled off a hundred and two twenties, put the rest away, and headed toward the store. Isabel remained in the shadow.

Jesse stopped, looked back. “Oh, yeah . . . guess you gotta stay out here?”

She nodded absently, her eyes fixed on the shelves of cheap trinkets.

He studied her for a moment. “Been awhile since you been inside a store, I bet.”

She nodded again.

“Okay, gotta pay before I pump. It’ll be a sec. Now, don’t you go running off and leaving me.” He winked at her and headed away. “Oh,” he called over his shoulder. “And keep your eye out for snipes. A gal out this way lost a few toes to one just a couple of weeks ago.” Isabel set her hands on her hips and watched him trot off.

About a minute after Jesse entered the store, a car came up the highway and pulled into the lot. Isabel withdrew into the shadows. Two teenage girls and an older boy climbed out, laughing over some shared joke. One of the girls jumped onto the boy’s back and rode him piggyback into the store, all three hooting and carrying on as though life was one big carnival ride. So carefree, Isabel thought and tried to ignore the jealousy biting at her. “Life don’t always go the way folks want,” she muttered under her breath. “That’s all.”

Isabel watched them romp about in the store. Both girls had long, wavy hair. It bounced and shined, silky in the glow of the beer signs. Something a man would want to run his fingers through, Isabel thought, and touched her own cropped hair; it felt waxy, crusty. She hadn’t had a chance to wash since fall; the creeks were too cold this time of year. The girls had on makeup, lipstick, and eyeliner, earrings. All the things girls wore to pretty themselves up. She wondered if there might be some makeup to cover up the blotchiness on her face. Maybe a little lipstick? Might look a little bit more like a young woman than some cave monster.

Jesse walked out; the gas can in one hand, a sack of groceries in the other. He nodded her way, headed to the pump, and began filling the canister with gas. The kids left the store a moment later. The boy shook his can of soda, popped it open, and sprayed it at the girls. Both of them let out wild screams, scooped up handfuls of snow, and threw it at him. He ducked, slipped on the ice, fell, dropping his soda. All three of them laughed so hard Isabel thought they would need medical aid. And all at once Isabel wanted them to stop. She didn’t want to hear them, or see them. She clenched her hands into fists. Found she wanted to shut them up, wanted to tear their beautiful hair out of their heads, scratch their pretty faces, make them know what it is like to lose everything.

One of the girls tugged the boy to his feet. He slipped his hands around her waist, pulled her to him, and they embraced, kissed—a long kiss that only new love can share. Isabel put her fingers to her own lips, stared, hardly breathing. They piled back into the car and Isabel no longer wished them ill, no, only wished to join them, to climb into their car and go wherever it was that young boys and girls go these days to have fun. She tried to imagine what that would be like, to just have fun. She watched their taillights until they disappeared up the dark highway.

Jesse walked up to her. “Here. Can you take this?” He handed her a grocery sack and set the gas can down at her feet.

“I’ll be right back. Need to make a quick call.”

“Call? Wait. I don’t know if you should.”

“Isabel, I have to know if my little girl is okay. Just gonna call her grandmother. There’s no way one phone call is going to endanger Krampus. So you’re off the hook.”

She bit her lip. If something wasn’t obviously endangering Krampus or directly breaking one of his tenets, then her actions were her own.

“Isabel, I’m not asking. I’m going to make a phone call. I’ll be right back.”

“Yeah . . . okay.”

He started toward the phone, then turned. “Oh, here. I bought you a little something.” He pulled a plastic sack out of the grocery bag and handed it to her.

“What is it?”

“Why don’t you take a look and find out?”

She watched him go to the phone booth, then peered into the sack, found a pack of watermelon bubble gum, a giant chocolate almond bar, and something fuzzy. She tugged it out. It was a toboggan cap, black and white and so frizzy. She held it up and realized it was shaped like a panda bear’s head, complete with nose, ears, and big, droopy eyes. Two large fuzzy earflaps hung from each side. It was utterly ridiculous, but no one would ever, ever mistake it for a boy’s cap. There was something else in the sack. She pulled out a box, popped it open, inside she found a charm bracelet with an attached oversize pink, heart-shaped locket. She let out a small cry, covered her mouth. Apparently, Jesse had as bad a taste in jewelry as he did in women’s hats, but she couldn’t stop smiling. She tore it out of the box and slipped it on her wrist. Just some ticky-tacky, she knew that, but it was still glittery and oh-so-girly. Not the sort of thing a guy would buy a monster, and for that second she felt like a girl again. She closed her eyes, savoring the feeling. A tear ran down her cheek, then another. She tried to remember the last time anyone had given her a gift. It had been her Daniel, it had been the ring, some forty years ago. She wiped at her eyes. “Stop that,” she whispered. “Now’s not the time to go all weepy-eyed.”

Jesse hung up the phone and headed her way at a fast clip.

Isabel shoved her hood back and tugged on the toboggan, quickly tied the fuzzy earflaps beneath her chin. She hoped she looked as silly as she felt, couldn’t wait to see his face.

Jesse snatched up the gas can. “We gotta get back.” He headed up the gravel road without even looking her way, his face set and grim.

Isabel hesitated, confused, felt a sting of hurt. What just happened? She grabbed the groceries and sprinted to catch up with him.

“They’re after Abigail,” he said, his voice hard and tense.

Isabel didn’t know what to say.

“Linda’s mother asked me why Ash Boggs showed up at her place looking for Abi. That’s all the old witch would say, wouldn’t tell me a goddamn thing else. Just kept asking me what I’d done. You know what that means?”

Isabel shook her head.

“Means the General intends to make good on his threat, that’s what that means. Fuck,” his voice turned raw, cutting. “Fuck!”

Jesse’s long legs ate up the road and Isabel had to jog to keep up.

“There’s just no telling what the General might do,” Jesse said, but it was more like he was talking to himself. “I gotta do something before it’s too damn late.”

ISABEL WATCHED JESSE empty the gas into his truck, then screw the cap back on and toss the canister into the camper. They found Vernon on the steps. He glanced at Isabel, his eyes going right to her cap. He let out a chuckle. “Why that is just adorable. I do hope you brought Makwa one.” Jesse started past. Vernon put out his arm. “Hold up. I wouldn’t go in there just now if I were you.”

“Why?” Isabel asked. “What happened?”

“Nothing. Old Tall and Ugly is just in one of his moods. That’s all.”

Jesse pushed Vernon’s arm aside and headed in. Isabel followed and they found Krampus sitting cross-legged in front of the stove, his eyes closed, his face deep in concentration, the sack before him, an assortment of arrows, gold, and bronze, all looking ancient, strewn about his feet. The Shawnee sat away from him, watching him, looking nervous. Wipi glanced over at them and gave a warning shake of the head.

“Now’s not a good time,” Isabel whispered.

Jesse ignored her, started forward.

Isabel grabbed his arm. “Wait.”

Jesse shrugged her off, kept walking. “Krampus.”

Krampus’s brow tightened, but he didn’t look up.

Jesse walked right up to the Yule Lord. “Krampus. We need to talk.”

Krampus still didn’t open his eyes, but raised a hand, shook it urgently. Isabel could see the rising frustration on the Yule Lord’s face, knew what that could mean. She rushed to Jesse, put a restraining hand on his chest. “Jesse,” she said in a low, harsh tone. “You gotta wait.”

Krampus inserted his arm deep into the sack, appeared to be searching. This went on for several minutes. Isabel could feel the tension rising in Jesse with each passing second.

“Krampus,” Jesse said, raising his voice. “It’s urgent.”

Krampus jerked his arm out, opened his eyes, stared at his empty hand, then let out a howl. “Damn Odin,” he hissed. “Damn the Valkyries. Where did they hide it?” He locked eyes on Jesse and growled. “You dare interrupt me?”

Jesse didn’t back down a step. “We need to go now. Get my daughter before it’s too—”

“It will wait,” Krampus said and waved him off. Isabel found herself surprised by his restraint, then saw his exhaustion.

“No,” Jesse pressed. “You don’t understand, the General will—”

“You are the one who does not understand. I must find Loki’s arrow. Without it there is no way to stop him. Baldr will kill us all.”

“Krampus, you have to—”

“No,” Krampus cried, climbing to his feet, his tail snapping back and forth. “It is not your place to tell me what I must do!”

Isabel pulled Jesse back. “Stop it, Jesse.”

Jesse jabbed a finger at Krampus. “My little girl’s in trouble and I aim to do something about it. Tell you what, you just sit here, then. Me, I’m gonna go take care of this mess.” He yanked his arm free from Isabel and marched over to a cardboard box where the cash and guns sat.

Krampus’s face clenched into a knot, his nostrils flared, his breath came in short, hot bursts. Isabel knew what was next, watched helpless as his lips peeled back, revealing his long canines. His eyes flew open, red and glowing. She started to warn Jesse, but Krampus was on him in three quick strides. Jesse must’ve heard something for he started to turn; as he did, Krampus grabbed him, one hand around his neck, the other holding the front of his jacket. Krampus lifted Jesse off his feet and slammed him into the wall. The entire structure shook. “You will go nowhere ’less I give you leave.”

Jesse gasped, forced the words out. “Fuck you. I’m not one of your slaves.” Jesse grabbed Krampus’s wrist, tried to twist free. Krampus threw him to the floor.

“Hold him,” Krampus commanded and the Shawnee were on him, grabbing Jesse before he could get to his feet. Jesse flailed, landed a blow to the side of Makwa’s face, then they had him pinned.

Krampus stomped over, towering above Jesse, a low growl coming from deep in his throat. Isabel knew Jesse had gone too far, knew Krampus would bite Jesse, would turn him.

“My patience is at an end,” Krampus snapped. He squatted, grabbed Jesse’s arm, held it taut. “You leave me no choice.” He grinned, once again revealing his canines.

“No!” Isabel shouted. “Krampus, stop it!”

Krampus ignored her, opened his mouth to bite Jesse.

Isabel rushed in, pushed herself between them.

Krampus looked as though he might beat her to death with his bare fist.

“You made an oath!” Isabel cried. “A blood oath!”

Krampus shoved her away, sending her tumbling across the floor into one of the pews. Isabel rolled back to her feet and cried out, “Does the word of the Yule Lord mean nothing? Then how are you any different than Santa Claus?”

Krampus leapt to his feet, glaring at Isabel, and she could see he weighed her death, could see it burning in his eyes. He lifted his face upward, toward the rafters, let out a howl, gritted his teeth, and just stood there with his eyes shut, his chest heaving. Slowly, his breathing steadied. His shoulders slumped. “Isabel . . . my little lion. Your heart is bold and your words are true.” He set eyes on Jesse. “You . . . should you ever dare to challenge me again . . . I will kill you.” His words held absolute finality; he let out a long breath. “I will honor my oath. Those men will die, and die badly. But all in due time, for first there are more pressing matters.” He turned and staggered back to the stove, stared down at the velvet sack.

“Bind him,” Krampus said over his shoulder. “See to it he does not run off. I cannot risk him escaping. He is too unpredictable.”

Makwa yanked Jesse around, shoved him hard against the floor, and put a knee in his back. He gestured toward several curtain rods leaning in the corner. Wipi hopped up, slid out his knife and cut the cords loose from the rods. Isabel intercepted him on his way back. “Give me those.” She snatched the cords away from Wipi. Wipi looked at Makwa and shrugged. Isabel came over to Makwa. “Stop being such a brute. Now, get on off him.”

Makwa scowled, said something in Shawnee, which Isabel knew to be unflattering, but he got off.

“Put your wrists out.”

Jesse reluctantly did as he was told.

Isabel bound his wrists gently but securely. Jesse wouldn’t look at her, just glared at Krampus the whole time.

Krampus took a seat next to the sack. He picked up one of the arrows, studied it. “Where are you hiding?”

SANTA CLAUS STOOD on the ledge and stared down at the wolves. The early-morning wind whipped his long beard. His breath steamed in the chill. One of the wolves looked up at him, then to her mate lying still on his side. She let out a whimper and pawed at her mate, but the mate didn’t move. She barked up at the white-bearded man. Santa’s face twitched but he did nothing but stare.

The man searched the sky, found no sign of the ravens, hadn’t heard them since yesterday morning. He knew what that must mean. The trail was cold; without the ravens Krampus could be anywhere, could be a thousand miles away. He was wasting his time here.

He heard a horn, far away, from the east. He turned toward it, pulled out his own horn, and blew. The sound echoed across the valley, a sound most mortal ears would miss, a sound that could carry halfway across the world.

A few minutes later he caught sight of a sleigh flying toward him over the far ridgeline. It was smaller than his Christmas sleigh, drawn by two goats, Tanngrisni and Tanngnost. The goats were true Yule goats, the last of their breed, last of his ties to another age.

“The past should stay in the past,” he growled. So much had I managed to forget. Now, Krampus returns to resurrect old ghosts. Santa looked heavenward. Baldr is dead, by all the gods, and he needs to stay dead. Baldr paid for his misdeeds, his arrogance, his deceit, paid with his life, his soul . . . paid a hundred times over. How much is enough? When will I be allowed to forget?

The sleigh floated down and came to a skidding stop on the rough road. Two elves hopped out, both armed with sword and pistol, dressed in woodland gear: thick jackets, britches, cloaks, and boots. They scanned the hills with keen eyes as they strolled up to Santa Claus—the top of their heads only reaching as high as his belt. They peered down the ravine at the two wolves.

“Is Freki dead?” Tahl, the younger of the two elves, asked.

“No,” Santa replied. “But will be soon I am afraid.”

“Can we do anything?”

“Not for Freki. He is too large to carry in the sleigh.”

“ ’Tis a shame.”

“Yes,” Santa agreed, “and Geri will not leave his side. Not even in death. Their fates are one.”

They watched Geri pace round her mate. She licked his fur and again looked to the white-bearded man. She barked, then her bark turned into a whine.

“We can’t just leave them like this,” Tahl said. “There has to be something we can do.”

“It is sad, but they are of the past and like all the ancient ones, their time is done.” Santa turned, mounted the sleigh. The older elf followed, but the younger one stayed, watching the doomed creatures.

“Come, Tahl,” Santa Claus called. “Do not make this harder than it need be.”

The elf bit his lip, left the ledge and the wolves behind, ran and leapt into the sleigh. The older elf snapped the reins; the two goats bleated and leapt skyward, pulling the sleigh up over the trees. Tahl watched the wolves become smaller and smaller, until they were just two tiny specks alone in the forest.

As the sleigh disappeared over the ridge, the wolf set back her head and howled; the mournful, forlorn sound echoed through the snow-covered hills.