Page 67 of The Nightmare Before Kissmas
But there’s something I’m not seeing. A piece not connecting, and I let myself frown, concern breaking through my unease. “How does Halloween factor into this?”
Oh no. He wants to branch out from manipulating only winter Holidays. He wants Halloween too.
“They had their chance to be a part of our progression,” Dad says.“They chose to step aside. To their detriment—they will see they chose wrong.”
“Wait. Youhadconsidered merging—acquiring—whatever, withHalloween? When?”
Dad gives me an even look, analytic and calm, and after a minute of considering, he inhales with a decisive nod. “Years back. It was not made public as it barely made it past a preliminary inquiry from them, but they were also the ones who rapidly backed out once they learned that their autumn allies were vehemently opposed to a union with Christmas. They have been kept docile by the mere threat of news of that clandestine deal becoming public with their allies, and at the time, we had other Holiday arrangements to firm up”—he waves at the list—“so we did not pursue them in their indecisiveness, and they do not find themselves in quite the same boat of decreasing joy as these Holidays.”
In other words, they were too big to take on, so Dad let them continue unmolested.
“But we have solidified our position among the winter Holidays now,” he continues, “and it is time we begin branching out. We chose to focus on Easter, as—”
“Oh my god.” A shudder runs up through my body. I manage to stop myself from exploding at the last moment, a tight, painful swallow, until all that comes out is, “YoupersuadedEaster too?”
Dad gets my meaning and gives my slip of emotion a tight look. “No, Nicholas. Easter did not need to bepersuaded;they have always been among our friends. The arrangement with them is mutually agreed upon. They entered into it willingly. It was Halloween’s vocal objection to that union that had to be met with action.”
“With action. With athreat,you mean.”
“Halloween is the one who moved first. Their autumn allies would see it as an immeasurable breach of trust that they had ever considered joining with us, and they would pull their support. You act as though this arrangement I have with the winter Holidays is unique and heartless; Holidays have been trading joy for centuries. Halloween is no different with their own allies.”
I stare at him, recalling the conversation I had with Hex before the sleigh race, where he’d talked about Halloween meeting with other autumn Holidays. No part of what he said had sounded at all like Dad’s single-minded rampage for joy, and I cannot get what I’ve seen of Hex so far to fit in with someone who’d be okay taking magic so backhandedly.
“That Halloween felt they could have any say inChristmas’sbusiness without repercussion could not go unaddressed,” Dad says. “The situation as you know it is to remind Halloween thattheychose to upset the balance. I could easily let news of our prior negotiations spread to their allies—but instead I made sure that the stories being printed paint Christmas as having conceded to Halloween in their objections, and playing host to their prince as he courts Princess Iris is a mark of our public apology. Even at the end, when we still win the Easter alliance, they will get to run back to their allies the victim, solidified in distrusting us, but heroes for attempting to swipe Easter out from under us. We will have the Christmas-Easter union, unopposed. Everyone will have what they want.”
My head throbs with fighting to see through all Dad’s political doublespeak to get to the root of what he actuallydid.
That was why he was so weird when the Halloween envoys arrived at the palace a while back. He wasintentionallygroveling to them—or as close to groveling as he ever gets—in front of the press in order to start laying the groundwork for this lie.
When he sent his real threat later, that Halloween would bekept in line,they had no choice, did they? They could have refused, but then it would have looked like they were the ones being assholes when Christmas had more or less bowed to what Halloween wanted; but refusing would also have given Dad permission to let slip this dirt he has on them.
It wasn’t enough that he threaten them into silence again with his blackmail shit; he wanted topunishthem. To make sure they know not to mess with Christmas.
My jaw cracks as I pry it open. “And the only way to do all this is to have alive persontrapped in our palace?”
“He is not trapped, Nicholas. He is free to come and go as he wishes. But he came here willingly, and his court agreed to this knowing it was a faux-engagement from the start.”
“Because the alternative was you leaking the previous Christmas-Halloween negotiations to their allies. That’sblackmail.”
I say the word like a plea.Don’t be like this. Please.
Dad yanks the folder out of my hands. His face darkens, and the temperature of the room goes frigid, my breath suddenly a visible cloud on the air. I fight to keep from backing up a step.
“That is the reality of managing the largest Holiday in the world,” he says. “You do not yet understand the things that must be done, the decisions that must be made. This may seem cruel, but the alternative is to allow us to fade away, and that I will not permit.” He points at me, and I can’t help it; I flinch. “Do not act on this information. Do notspeakof this information. You will sit on it, absorb it, and process what it means before I give you any role in this. I am trusting you, Nicholas, trusting you when you have only ever proven that you are unworthy of that trust. What you do with the things I have told you will determine the kind of Santa you will be.”
He’s never said anything truer in my life.
In the place where that childish hope once lived is just emptiness now. It’s empty and hollow but aching, and I didn’t think this conversation would leave me feeling so alone.
Dad sits back down at his desk. “And clean that paint off your nails before the next event.”
The black and orange nails. I’d forgotten about them. Hadn’t tried to hide them.
Nausea squirms down my stomach. Hex and I… is that something Dad would use against Halloween too? But it would counteract the plot that makes Christmas look like they’re bowing to Halloween.
Still. The fact that I have to ask myself that question—would my dad resort to blackmailing the guy I was kissing?—has my vision going spotty.
“I do want to be good at this,” I hear myself say. It’s the first time I’ve ever admitted that aloud, to myself, toanyone.I’ve bared my soulmore in the past ten minutes than I have maybe ever, and to my father, of all people.
