Page 27 of The Nightmare Before Kissmas
I finally catch the severity in his voice.
“What’s wrong?” I tug into my shoes. “What happened?”
“Halloween is here.”
I go rigid, one leg up, one shoe on.
“Say that again?”
“An envoy from Halloween is here. They heard about you and Iris. And they’refurious.”
We stumble out of my room, me leaning on Kris, or him leaning on me; together, we make about one functional person, what with how much sleep I think the two of us got.
“How—what? They sent someone here? Holy shit.”
“Exactly.”
“Holyshit.When was the last time Halloween was in the North Pole?”
Kris’s look says,Never, duh.
There are certain Holidays that Christmas is known for interacting with. The cheerier, brighter Holidays. Everything for reputation.
Halloween is, shockingly, neither cheery nor bright.
They’re a major player in our world in their own right, but they keep to themselves, we stick with Easter and Valentine’s Day and a few others, and everything’s good, and no one encroaches on each other’s seasons or shit. Everyone wins.
As far as I know, Halloween is based out of—New England, I think? Hell, that might be wrong. I know next to nothing about them. Never particularly had to.
Kris and I come to the landing at the top of the foyer, and there, down in the middle of a room flooded with Christmas decorations, stand two people who clearly do not belong here.
They’re dressed all in black, sleek suits with a pop of orange in their pocket squares. In spite of the reason for their presence, they’re oddly calm, expressions cool as they face off with Wren.
“Where’s Dad?” I whisper to Kris.
He shrugs.
We stay at the top of the staircase. No one’s noticed us yet.
“—alliance goes through,” one of the Halloween delegates is saying. “The reigning Santa must understand how this comes across.”
“We assure you,” Wren says, “this is not meant to be perceived as a threat. We hardly see how this matter involves you at all.”
“We disagree,” the man says. All thisroyal wespeak and forced civility tinges the air with electric strain. “The unionization of two of the most powerful Holidays very much involves us. Christmas has toyed with such unions for far too long—to act on what has previously only been threats has taken your ploy for control too far.”
“There is no ploy at work.”
The voice booms through the foyer. The candles surge brighter, the scent on the air deepens in sugary richness, and snowflakes fall, indoors, drifting down from unseen clouds in a gentle peppering of white.
Below us, Dad saunters into the foyer.
He, at least, has changed from last night, wearing a bright red sweater, a reminiscent nod to his famous uniform. It gives him an immediate presence and I can’t help but wonder if he took the time to change into that once he heard Halloween had sent people. He’s certainly using enough magic to give himself clout.
The Halloween delegate bats a snowflake from the air. “Ah, King Claus. A pleasure for you to join us.”
“A pity Halloween could not coordinate a more official meeting,” my dad cuts back. “But since you are here, I would like to personally assure you that the arrangement between my son and Princess Iris is not as severe as you claim. Nothing has been finalized.”
Oh, that’s abold-faced lie.They’re planning our wedding already, for fuck’s sake.
