Previous Post "This is it?" Griffin asked with a dubious tone, his lion tail twitching as they crested the bright white hill under the full moon. "The north pole? Santa's workshop?" "Yep!" Zebulon answered happily, then caught on to the boy's seeming disappointment. "Why... what did you expect it to be like?" "It's... it's just a stone barn" he noted. "There's a house too!" the elf pointed out indignantly. "See? It's a split level ranch, with two and a half baths! And there's a workshop out back!" "It's lovely" the Fairy Princess Magweed assured him, looking over the warm little farmstead in the middle of the bleak, endless glacial landscape. A warm flickering glow came from within the frosted windows wreathed with holly and evergreen boughs, and some simple white string lights hung around the roof line while smoke rose lazily up from the stone chimney. "Yeah... the loveliest "worldwide distribution center on a scale unmatched through all reality" I've ever seen" Griffin added, snorting through his beak. "It *is* the biggest! I swear!" Zebulon huffed as they made their way down the snowbank towards the little settlement. "You kids just don't know much about Christmas, that's all. There are traditions to uphold! The elfin zoning board isn't about to ruin the image of the North Pole by approving a landing strip for 747 cargo jets. Plus, the environmental impact study was worried about the mating routes of the polar bears." He pointed proudly. "Look... Look! There's the North Pole itself! See the candy cane striping? That's authentic polar architecture. There's no reason updating our services should mean abandoning our heritage. You Americans would probably want to plunk down a Starbucks over top of it or something." Maggie leaned in close to her feathered brother. "What's a Starbucks?" she whispered. "She was on Battlestar Galactica" he whispered back. "Ask Dreamcatcher to show you sometime." Zebulon motioned for them to take cover behind a large snow drift on the outskirts of the lamplight coming off the North Pole. "Okay, here's the thing... We're going to have to sneak into the workshop to get access to the Mythlands gate. You two will need to stay out of sight... children aren't supposed to see any of this. In fact, if you two were awake, then you wouldn't... Awake children set off all kinds of Santa alarms." "Why aren't we supposed to see it?" Griffin asked. The elf shrugged. "Plausible deniability, maybe. I don't know... it's just the rules." Magweed nodded. "Rules are important." "Right. Anyway, you two go hide in the stables over there... don't worry, the reindeer won't rat on you. They're very discreet... just ask Pegasus. I'm going to find a buddy of mine in the loading docks who owes me a favor... I'll come back and get you and he'll be able to slip us in the back door. Okay..." He poked his head over the drift, "...wait for my signal, then make a break for the barn door." The twins waited until he had crept off around the side of the barn through a series of short runs from drift to drift, punctuated by theatrical dives and roles which may have been stealthier had they not thrown up clouds of lose snow which glittered in the bright moonlight. Shortly thereafter came a reasonable facsimile of the thrice repeated cry of a confused and forlorn caribou, and Maggie and Griffin rose and shuffled through the snow to the stables. "You're sure your gift for reading people's hearts still works when you're sleeping?" her brother asked again. "He really does mean well" the Princess insisted. "Didn't he shoot you once? And dad another time?" "Well... yes" Maggie admitted as her brother pulled the small side door open with a gentle creak. "But he was really quite apologetic afterwards..." The warm, lofted interior of the barn seemed quite a bit larger than the exterior would indicate. Rich wooden beams joined by wrought iron brackets rose up from the hay strew floor into a cathedral like ceiling criss-crossed with rafters. Harnesses festooned with jingle bells hung over railings worn smooth with age and half-height stable doors separated the middle of the barn from the rows of reindeer stalls lining each side of the long building. Overhead, holly and evergreen were woven through the supports, and bright lanterns and strategically placed pot belly stoves made the interior warm and inviting. "Um... hello" Magweed greeted the many antlered heads that poked over the doors to take a look at the visiting twins. All chewing stopped. "I hope we're not intruding... we were told to wait in here for a friend." The unblinking stares continued in silence, until finally the chewing resumed. "They like you" a voice rang out from a far stall. A large man in dirty denim overalls and a faded plaid flannel shirt stepped out holding a shovel. He pulled off his work glove with his teeth and ran a hand through his long messy white hair, trying to straighten it out. Large sweat stains spread out from under his thick arms, and chest hair bristled through the opening under his fuzzy chin. "Although they're a little skittish about the griffin there" he added, leaning the shovel up against the stall and approaching them. "Had some bad experiences with mythical predators... dragons, mostly. I gather there were some exceptionally positive experiences with a winged horse, but I don't ask questions about that sort of thing." He smiled broadly and gave a polite nod of the head. "Hello... I'm Kris. I work here." Magweed gave the best formal curtsy of her nightgown that she could manage, as taught to her by Myrna Fieldmouse. "It is very good to meet you. I'm Maggie, and this is my brother Griffin." Normally the rule was not to talk to strangers, but as they were trespassing here she felt the least she could do was be polite about it. Kris nodded to Griffin who attempted some sort of bow on four legs. "You know..." the stable-hand said in hushed tones, "You could probably win the audience over if you claimed to be vegetarian." "Maggie is" the furred and feathered boy responded. "I like hot dogs though." "Truth be told, I do too" the man admitted. "But I admire your sister's ideals." He pulled a couple of small stools up to one of the iron stoves and gestured for the two to join him. "So what brings you all the way out here, eh? We don't get too many passersby in these parts... especially ones walking in through the dreams of a slumbering harp seal." "So that explains the herring smell!" Griffin noted to himself. "And here I thought Zebulon had some kind of fungus growing in his curly shoes." "Ah" Kris noted, nodding. "Zebulon brought you." Magweed nodded. "We're saving Christmas." "Secular Christmas" Griffin added. "Really? What a remarkable thing. And you're that fond of it, that you'd come all this way to save it?" Maggie tried to think of an answer, but Griff chimed in first. "We've never celebrated it, actually..." He shrugged his winged shoulders. "I'm sure it's very good and all, but... in truth, it sounds kind of silly." "They put a tree inside the house" Magweed noted confidentially. "Oh, indeed... some of it is just plain goofy" Kris concurred, leaning forward. "You know, I saw on television that people in Parodiopolis camped out in parking lots for all of their Thanksgiving holiday so that they could be first in line to go Christmas shopping on the next morning at 4 a.m.!" "Mr. Clancy says they're crazy, but at least they're good for the economy" the princess relayed. "No doubt" Kris nodded. He looked over to Griffin, who was distracted by the sight of burlap grain bags stacked in the corner. "You can try some if you like, but I wouldn't recommend it." The winged boy jumped guiltily. "I wasn't... I mean..." He looked back to the sacks. "Is that the magic oats that Zebulon mentioned? Can it really make someone... some reindeer... fly?" "It makes them fly, and a few other things which require me to be in here with my shovel multiple times a day." Maggie looked over the sacks with curiosity. "Are they wild oats?" she asked. She wasn't sure what those were, but apparently Kerry might be experimenting with them from the conversations she overheard the adults at the Lighthouse having. The possibility that her young aunt could fly would explain why poppa always threatened to ground her while aunt Sarah offered to buy her protection. "I'm not sure where they grow them, but they taste awful... even as a toasted breakfast cereal." "You've tried them?" Griffin asked. The man smiled with a twinkle in his eye. "Couldn't resist the temptation... I mean, flying? Now that's something... who wouldn't dream of that?" He shrugged. "Never got me off the ground, however... although my stomach did a few loops. Runs right through a reindeer with no problem though." "Have you tried... Maybe using other, non-deer fliers would be less clean up work." Kris shook his head. "No... has to be reindeer. They have the perfect temperament. Couldn't be griffins, for instance. Griffins fly much to fast, and can turn much too sharply. No way to build a sleigh that can match that kind of performance." The boy considered this. "That's very true" he nodded sagely. "Plus, griffins really don't like to be belled." "Understandable." They were interrupted by a reasonable facsimile of the thrice repeated cry of a melancholy walrus. "Ah" the man noted. "I think that's for you. You'd best be on your way... and don't worry, I won't tell anyone about your sneaking about... except perhaps for my missus." The man smiled fondly. "I think she would quite admire your pluck... likely remind her of herself when she was younger." He stood and offered his hand. "It was a pleasure meeting you Griffin... Don't give up on the silly parts of life, or the silly dreams for that matter... I've found that both often lead to the best results. And Maggie... not only are you charming company, but a very lovely young lady." Maggie accepted his hand and shook it as she smiled politely with an unblemished face. "That's only because I'm dreaming." "Nonsense" Kris insisted, leaning down to address her. "True beauty shines from within, and like a candle, it might not be apparent in the light of day... but it stands out like a beacon when things grow dark." He winked at her. "Just ask the fellow with the nose, third stall to your left, on your way out." With a big smile bristling through his beard he waved as they headed for the door. "Take care now... and good luck saving Christmas!" he called after them. They met Zebulon outside the door, crouching behind a stack of firewood. "Did you two have any problems in there?" "No" Maggie whispered. "We met a very nice stable-hand, and he promised not to tell on us." "Okay, good... if you can trust him, then we should be fine" the elf replied, scratching his chin. "Although when I worked here, the only stable help was Zigfield, and he was kind of a jerk." "I really liked this new guy" Griffin offered as they stealthily made their way back around to the workshop to continue their mission, their breath hanging in the crisp night air. "Although he did smell strongly of reindeer poo..."

Ed Asner?

Another charming chapter in this story. You do a great job writing the kids, which is hard, because its tough not to have them be too precocious. Looking forward to th next bit