Yuletide (Matilda Kavanagh Novels Book 3) (8 page)

The entrance to the Krampus exhibit was impressive, with massive snowy mountains covered in pine trees, all decorated with glass ornaments and lights. They’d started with blue decorations and progressed to purple, to red, to yellow, to green, as though we were moving through a rainbow. The mountain-scape came closer and closer together until we were walking through a tunnel. The temperature dropped degree by degree, and finally we came to the entrance of a dark cave.

In glittering red letters over the mouth of the cave was the word
Krampus
. We stepped through, and the darkness swallowed us whole. Joey glowed, giving off her own light, and I called power to my eyes so that when I blinked, I could see clearly.

Once we moved away from the entrance, the “cave” looked like any other museum exhibit. Paintings hung from wires on the walls, ranging in size from portrait to massive. Glass boxes were placed around the room, protecting the items inside and giving the illusion that those things were real and not reproductions. In the corners were statues of Krampus, looking much like the costumes the Krampus revelers wore at the club the other night. People stood close to them, as close as the ropes would allow, and took pictures with them.

“Whoa,” Joey said as she stepped forward.

The lighting was dim, but we could see, so she allowed her glow to fade and I blinked the light out of my eyes. She flitted away from me, going to the biggest portrait of Krampus in the room. It stood about ten feet high and possibly seven feet wide. I wasn’t sure how the wires were holding it up.

I didn’t need to see another leering rendition of Krampus, so I moved to the first case in the room. In it were dead birch branches and a thick bundle of switches. The plaque stated they were the original tools of discipline used by the Christmas Devil, the right hand of Santa Claus. I rolled my eyes and turned away, facing a glass case raised on a wooded block.

It stopped me in my tracks.

Inside the glass box was a faded black sack. It was laid out and propped open so that we could look into the black depths of the bag. A chill ran up my back as I stepped forward. People paused in front of it and moved on, looking bored. With a lump in my throat, I stepped up to the case and held out my hands. Heat pressed against my palms as the power of the bag answered my seeking power.

It was real.

It was Krampus’s bag.

They had found Krampus’s lair.

Krampus was awake again.

“Mattie?”

I nearly jumped out of my skin when Joey’s hand landed on my shoulder. The yelp that came out of me sounded like a wounded cat’s.

“Take it easy,” a docent said from the side of the room, giving us a disapproving look.

Joey had to stuff her knuckles in her mouth to stop her giggling. “That’s the same noise Smert makes when you step on his tail.”

“Thanks,” I said, running my hands through my hair and tucking it behind my ears.

“So what’s the matter?”

“What do you mean?”

“You were looking at this thing like it was a ball of slime or something?” Joey leaned over to get a closer look at the bag.

Even without trying, I felt the power of the bag pressing at me, pushing at my aura and making my cheeks warm.

“Whoa,” Joey whispered when her eyes landed on the plaque. “They’re kidding, right? I mean, it’s not real?”

“No, they’re not, and yes, it is,” I said, not realizing I was taking a few steps away until Joey looked back at me.

“So you were right?” She blinked slowly, and the look on her face was heartbreaking, like when a kid finds out Santa isn’t real. “Krampus is back and snatching those kids?”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “No. That the bag is here proves he’s not.”

“What?”

“All the stories say that if you were bad enough to get snatched instead of switched, you were stuffed in the bag and taken to his lair,” I explained. “If the bag is here, then he has nothing to take the kids in.”

“Are you serious?” Joey gaped at me, but I shook my head.

“That’s how the legend goes.”

“You think a demigod needs a bag to snatch kids? C’mon, Mattie.”

“Listen,” I said, checking my phone, “the shop is gonna open in an hour. We need to get you back before you’re late.”

“So you’re just gonna stick your head in the sand?”

“What?” I stopped and looked at her.

“It’s an expression,” she said with an exasperated sigh, throwing up her hands. “I mean, you’re not going to do anything?”

“No, I’m gonna go home and finish baking cookies and get ready for the Solstice tomorrow.”

“About this,” Joey said, pointing at one of the stuffed Krampus statues.

“No, I am not going to do anything about this. Not everything is my damn job.”

“But Mattie—”

“Enough,” I said, making a cutting motion to stop her. “This is the first time in my adult life that I get to fully enjoy the holiday, okay? If the bag is here, then it’s not him. There isn’t a damn thing I can do anyway, so just drop it.” Joey glared at me, and I felt my temper rising. “Nothing is stopping you from going to the cops and telling them these theories.”

“Me?” If it was possible, her eyes got even bigger.

“Yes, you,” I said. “You’re half human. Those are your people, not mine, so you go tell them and see how they take it. I’m going to go home and bake some friggin’ cookies.”

Chapter 8

It was Winter Solstice, just a few days before Christmas, and the night was alive with energy and people. I could smell the fires lit all around town as people celebrated in their homes and on rooftops. The scents of sage and pine filled the damp night air, and I breathed them in, letting the smoke fill my lungs and cleanse me.

I should be at home, lighting my own fire, burning my spices, and cooking a feast to celebrate making it through the darkest part of the year, but I had a mission. I was lucky to get through the lobby unnoticed as Frankie tapped on her phone, no doubt texting Kyle. I was more than a little surprised they’d made it so long, but I was grateful for it too. Frankie had been much more bearable the last few months.

The city had strung lights along the roads, making the enchanted snow glitter. Wreaths were hung on street lights with massive red bows, and birch trees were temporarily placed along the sidewalks, their thin white branches strung with tiny twinkle lights. Innocuous holiday music was piped through the city as if we were in one massive shopping mall. It could have been obnoxious, but I kind of loved it, truth be told.

I tucked my scarf into the front of my short leather jacket and zipped it up against the cold. Tugging a slouchy knit hat over my head, but letting my bangs hang out so I wouldn’t get hat-head, I craned my head back to look at the sky. The enchanted snow was falling, so I couldn’t see the sky or the dome beyond it. They’d really done a fantastic job this year of giving the perfect holiday illusion without freezing us.

I pushed open Ronnie’s shop door and the sound of a dozen tiny bells chimed, announcing my arrival. There were more decorations than there had been a few days ago, and I had a feeling that Joey was responsible for them.

“Okay, do you remember how to work the safe?” Ronnie’s voice filtered back to me through the over-crowded shelves.

“Ronnie,” Joey said her name in that same forced-patient voice heard among teenagers speaking to less-intelligent adults, “this isn’t the first time I’ve watched the shop. It’s fine.”

“It’s the first time you’ve done it during the holiday.”

“It’s Solstice,” Joey said. “Everyone’s home celebrating. I probably won’t have any customers tonight. I don’t know why we’re even open.”

“Neither do I,” I said, making my way through the shop and reaching the register.

“Because,” Ronnie said with a sigh, as though she’d explained this one too many times already, “people always forget things for the holiday. We’re open so they can pick it up.”

Joey rolled her eyes, and I asked, “You ready to go?”

Ronnie looked around the shop anxiously. She bent down to check the safe, then the register, then straightened the carousel rack of charms I’d set up. I was happy to note it was half empty already.

“Ronnie, come on.” I held out a hand for her, but she ignored it.

She grabbed her coat from behind the counter and pulled it on, tugging her hair out from the collar.

“You know, for someone getting a present, you sure do look like you just sucked on a lemon,” Joey said, leaning on her elbows on the counter.

“Joey!” I snapped, as Ronnie said, “Present?”

Silver dust fell from Joey in a spike of panic. “Oh, gods, I’m sorry.”

“Wait, we’re going to get a present?” Ronnie stopped her fidgeting and pinned me with her big green eyes, a smile curling her lips, and I swear her freckles were brighter.

“Thanks, Joey,” I said, my head dropping.

“I’m sorry,” Joey said again, the cringe clear in her voice.

“What is it? What is it?” Ronnie asked, bounding around the counter to grab my shoulders, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

I looked at Joey as Ronnie shook me. “Well, at least I’ll be able to get her out of the shop now.”

Joey gave me an awkward smile, her shoulders reaching her ears.

I waved her concern away and looked at Ronnie. “Can we please go now?”

“Yes!” She snatched her purse, waved at Joey, and grabbed my hand to lead me out of the shop.

It was a short drive to our destination, and thank the gods for that, because Ronnie would not let up on asking me where we were going or what she was getting. Even when I threatened to turn around and forget about the whole thing, she didn’t stop. We pulled up in front of an apartment building about ten blocks from ours. Unlike ours, all of the apartment doors could be accessed from the outside, and metal-and-stone staircases zigzagged on the faces of the buildings. Every window was lit up as the occupants celebrated the winter holiday, chasing away the shadows and making our trek to the top floor less creepy.

“This is where my present is?” Ronnie asked, skepticism etched in her voice.

“Just c’mon,” I said, leading the way up the stairs.

We made it to the top, and I knocked on the door with a golden number twenty affixed to it. There was a crash inside, and someone yelled something unintelligible, answered by something equally indiscernible.

“Well, this isn’t creepy at all,” Ronnie said, leaning toward me, her brows raised.

“Shush,” I said, pushing her back.

After a few more moments, someone finally answered the door. The first thing I saw was a pair of thick glasses, then a hook nose. Duncan blinked when he recognized me, and he opened the door so we could see more than just his owlish face.

“Mattie?”

Before I could reply, his mother yelled from somewhere in the apartment, “Of course it’s her. Open the damn door, and let them inside!”

Duncan jumped as though stuck with a pin and scrambled back to let us in. I had to hook Ronnie’s arm with mine to pull her inside. She tripped over her own feet as I pulled, and Duncan closed the door before she could make her escape.

The apartment was cramped and warm, and I was pulling off my scarf to jam it into my bag before Duncan even had the locks turned. Ronnie stood close enough that I elbowed her in the shoulder when I moved. The living room was taken up by a massive, ancient couch facing a television that looked as if it was older than Ronnie and me combined.

The majority of the apartment was dedicated to the kitchen, which was more than twice the size of the living room. There were plants everywhere: hanging from the ceiling, taking up most of the counter space, and lining the window sills.

“A hedgewitch?” Ronnie whispered, finally sounding a little more normal.

I nodded and smiled when the wizened Antonia hobbled out of the kitchen. She was bent forward, a cane supporting most of her weight. She’d gone round in the middle in her old age, but her legs and arms were spindly thin. Her crooked, gnarled fingers clutched her cane. She blinked at me before adjusting her thick glasses. Her jaw was moving, and I knew she was messing with her dentures.

“Antonia,” I said, greeting her. When I reached out to hug her, she poked me with her cane, stopping me in my tracks. I made an
ooof
sound.

“I’m not your granny, child,” she snapped. “Don’t go hugging me like an old woman.”

“Sorry,” I muttered, rubbing my stomach where the cane had punched me.

“So this is the girl?” she asked, moving around to examine Ronnie.

Ronnie shot me a confused look and tried to smile at Antonia, but it was more of a grimace than anything.

“Yes, this is Ronnie.”

Antonia made a noise deep in her throat and circled Ronnie like a dog checking out a stranger. She pinched a lock of Ronnie’s long, ropey orange hair, rubbed it between two fingers, and sniffed. Though she was trying not to, Ronnie leaned away from the strange woman, and I had to stifle a laugh.

Duncan had sneaked back into the kitchen and was making a pot of tea and setting out a tray of cookies. It seemed like such a normal thing to do that it made it extra weird.

“Everything all right there, Toni?” I asked, realizing she was still inspecting Ronnie’s hair.

“I told you not to call me that, child,” she snapped, coming around Ronnie.

“Sorry.” I crammed my hands into my jacket pockets and rocked in place. “So everything okay? We good to go?”

“Hmph,” the old witch said, pushing her glasses up her hook nose. “Very well.”

She ambled into the kitchen, shoving Duncan out of her way as he reached to pick up the tray. It showed how often the blind old woman did that when he didn’t lose the tray. He took the tray, loaded with cookies, tea cups, and a pot of tea, and hurried out of the kitchen. I met him at the tiny, two-seater table that was too close to the edge of the couch and fixed myself a cup. Ronnie was still standing where I’d left her, unsure what to do.

“Well? Let’s get a move on!” Antonia’s voice was like the crack of a whip that made Ronnie jump.

She looked at me, and I nodded, telling her to follow the old woman.

“Me?” she mouthed, pointing at her chest.

I nodded, waving her on. She shook her head, and I rolled my eyes, setting down my cup. I took her hand and dragged her into the kitchen. Antonia was waiting for us in front of the sink, leaning on her cane. Instead of a cabinet under the sink, there was a flowered curtain, and from behind it, tiny noises could be heard. I glanced at Ronnie to see her staring at the curtain, her orange brows drawn together, and I smiled.

Antonia used her cane to pull the curtain aside and revealed a kindle of kittens in a cardboard box lined with a plush blanket. The mama cat was sleeping in the corner, purring loudly while her kittens tumbled and tripped over each other, mewing constantly.

“Oh my,” Ronnie whispered, dropping to her knees and leaning over the box.

Antonia gave me a look of approval, and I smiled back. Antonia was one of my regulars, coming to me for pain amulets for her arthritis and bent back. She was also one of my poorest clients and couldn’t always pay for her charms and potions. She was a pretty decent hedgewitch, but she didn’t have the knack for healing potions.

For the last two months, she hadn’t been able to pay me anything, so she’d brought me bundles of herbs and flowers to supplement my stores. But when she’d told me her cat was about to have a litter, I made a deal to have the pick of the litter for Ronnie and call her tab square. The witch hadn’t hesitated to agree.

“They’re so cute!” Ronnie said, trying to pet and scratch all eight kittens. “Wait, what’s up with their legs?”

I laughed and knelt beside her, reaching in to pick up a white-and-grey kitten. They had thick, fluffy coats like Artemis, but their legs were short, almost stunted. I held the mewling kitten and showed Ronnie. “They’re called Munchkins.”

“Napoleons,” Antonia said, whacking me in the arm with her cane.

I cringed, keeping my hands loose around the squirming ball of fur. “Whatever. All it means is that their legs are super short. These are Rug Huggers, right? The shortest ones?”

“Hmph,” Antonia replied, but she gave a quick nod.

“Oh gods, how freaking adorable!” Ronnie reached into the box again. “Is this my present?”

I let the white-and-grey one slip out of my hands and back into the box. “Yeah. I wanted to help you find a familiar. You’ve been having so much trouble, and when Antonia told me about the litter, I just had a feeling.”

Ronnie looked at me, her lips pressed together and her eyes shining with tears. I felt the answering prickle of tears just before she gripped me in a breath-stealing hug.

“Yes, yes, it’s all so touching,” Antonia muttered. “Let’s get to deciding.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Ronnie said, wiping at her face.

I sat back and let her have a little space. She closed her eyes and held out her hands. My skin prickled as Ronnie unfurled her aura, letting it reach out to the kittens. The mama cat rumbled in her sleep and shifted but didn’t wake. The kittens were still mewing and tumbling, but one by one, they moved to the edges of the box until just one was left in the middle.

It was probably the fluffiest of the kittens and was the color of orange sherbet with a white chest and paws. It looked at Ronnie with perfectly round blue eyes and mewed for her. When Ronnie opened her eyes, she giggled and reached for the cat.

“Hmph,” Antonia said. “Might’ve known—a ginger for a ginger.”

Ronnie shot the old witch a look, but with the kitten clutched to her chest, she just smiled.

“I think it’s cute they match,” I said, scratching the top of the tiny head.

Antonia just
hmphed
at me again.

“I can’t believe I finally found you,” Ronnie whispered to the cat, rubbing her nose against its furry face.

I let my aura unfurl and brush up against Ronnie’s. Hers was warmer, humming happily, brighter than it had been in a long time.

Antonia pushed the curtain closed, eyeing me as though she could feel my intense desire to take all of the cute little critters home. Not that I thought that would go over well with Artemis. I dug into my bag and pulled out a tiny gift bag. Ronnie glanced at it and then at me with a pinched brow.

“You should have something to open,” I said, holding it out for her.

She reached in and pulled out the tiny green collar I’d bought. The blank nametag flashed in the light, and Ronnie laughed. “A green collar for an orange cat, just like a tiny little pumpkin.”