Chương 41: Chapter 40 - Christmas Eve

I was in the sitting room, relaxing in the armchair in front of the fire, when I felt a presence sitting in the other chair.

"Merry Christmas Eve, Emerra." I smiled.

"Merry Christmas Eve, Jacky."

"Did I say that right?"

"Close enough. What matters is that you made it back before tomorrow morning."

"That matters?" I rubbed my forehead.

"Yes, Jacky. Come and go all you want— I'd never tell death what to do—but you're still an important member of this house. It's good to have everyone home on Christmas." He hummed, then said, "Are the ghosts still here?"

"I put them to bed early."

"But you didn't go to sleep? I thought that the earlier you went to sleep, the faster Christmas came."

"You do know that's a joke, right? Most humans don't actually have the ability to change temporal reality."

"Ah." I gazed at the flames.

"I wasn't sleepy."

"Are you still having nightmares?"

"Sometimes. They remember almost everything now, so…yeah." I looked at him. The firelight reflected oddly off the matte bone of his skull.

"What will happen to them?"

"I don't know. They exist in a state that's outside of life's normal process. I had wondered if they would disappear once their contract with the wendigo was dismantled, but apparently, your attention was enough to give them an extended existence."

"Is that a good thing?"

"Good for whom? Them? Or you?" When Jacky heard my quiet laugh, he shifted and grumbled, "I'm afraid the universe in general is indifferent, but they seem to be enjoying their time here."

"That's good then. I'm glad they're here." I took a deep breath.

"Do you think we could keep them forever?"

"I'm afraid not. You've been a good friend to them. I don't think they'd be willing to harm you like that, and their presence would wear you out.

"Then what do we do?"

"If a solution doesn't present itself, we'll have to go find one."

"Can we wait? At least a day?" Jacky regarded me with the pits of his eye sockets.

"You want everyone here on Christmas?" I nodded.

"I promise I'll do nothing, but I can't promise anything more than that."

"Thank you, Jacky!"

"You sound so happy about having them here. And yet, because of them, you're delaying Christmas by sitting up to avoid a nightmare."

"Oh, I'm not going to have a nightmare tonight. Tonight I have to dream about dancing sugar plums. Those are the rules."

"What's a sugar plum?"

"I have no idea." The mansion sighed as the wind pressed on it from outside, but the cold was held at bay by the walls, the register, and the fire. The storm only made the house feel cozier. Jacky said, "Do you know how Mr. Bhaird is doing?" My frown was there and gone in a second, but I knew the thought of Mr. Bhaird would always bother me.

"It's probably a good thing his mind is gone," I said.

"They found the other two bodies in his house, and there's no way he could explain he didn't do it."

"He has no memories?"

"No memories. He can't talk. It's like he's empty."

"So the victim who can't defend himself becomes the scapegoat," Jacky said. Darius had said something similar two nights ago, but at least he'd had the decency to look upset as he said it. Noctis went on, "I'll talk to the Torr. I think he'll receive more sympathetic treatment with them than he would in a normal facility."

"Thank you, Jacky. That would mean a lot to me."

"Why?" I blinked and looked up at him.

"Did you know Mr. Bhaird?" he asked.

"I have to say, I'm surprised you're fond of him. I've had to work with him before—he was a rather difficult man."

"I didn't know him, but I know he didn't deserve what happened to him."

"That's true, but I fail to see why it would matter so much to you." My mouth opened and closed several times as my brain churned over what I should and shouldn't say.

"Ah," Jacky said, turning back to watch the fire.

"You feel guilty." The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. My face flushed, but my embarrassment had to share space with my amusement and disbelief.

"And how do you know that, Mr. Noctis?"

"From long association with Darius Vasil—though, he's gotten better about that. I believe the usurpation of godhood is a folly reserved mostly for the young."

"Excuse me?"

"What else would you call the assumption that a person would have both the power and responsibility to make everything perfect and just?"

"I don't think that."

"Then what does your sense of guilt indicate?"

"It means I wish I could make everything perfect and just, and I know it's my fault this happened."

"Because you cut down the tree?" I nodded.

"Even though it was a perfectly innocent action and you knew no better?"

"Yup! I guess I'm still young enough to be disappointed that I'm not a god." He stared at me for a moment, then looked away.

"As long as it pleases you."

"Jacky, what did you do with the wendigo?"

"The Canadian Torr didn't want to take responsibility for it, and Mr. Tremblay's enthusiasm over being its custodian made me feel wary, so I decided to take it up north and leave it there."

"You just…buried it?"

"Killing it would have been impossible as well as immoral. It was a creature, killing and eating to survive. I understand why you would abhor its particular methods more than most, but it had done nothing wrong."

"That's not the issue! Please tell me you at least took it far away from any town before you buried it." There was a microscopic pause that poured an extra dose of concern on my already humming nerves.

"I didn't bury it," he said, "and I'm under no obligation to protect people. You need to learn that. My role is different. It's natural that you and the others would have different goals than I do."

"What did you do with the container, Jacky?" I hadn't meant to use my mom-voice—I wasn't even supposed to have a mom-voice—but there was a particular tone I had learned to rely on whenever Jacob was evading my questions. I had honed it to the point I could make death squirm.

"I dropped it," Jacky said." Where did you drop it?" He waved his skeletal hand.

"Somewhere north of the Queen Elizabeth Islands. In the Canada Basin, I think."

"You dropped it in the Arctic Ocean?"

"…Yes." I grinned.

"I take it that meets with your approval?" he said.

"No wonder it took you four days to get home." I wagged my finger at him.

"But I thought you weren't obligated to protect people."

"I'm not, but I will protect my household."

"I do feel safer." I sighed, then said, "The box we put the container in was rated to handle those kinds of conditions, right?"

"Iset made sure of it."

"I'm glad." After a short silence, Noctis said, "You know it'll get out one day. That's inevitable."

"I know." I looked over at him.

"This mean old man I know recently told me I'm not omnipotent, so I guess I'll have to accept that. We did the best we could."

"You did. And you did well." He looked at the carriage clock sitting on the mantle, almost hidden by all the garlands and decorations I had put around it.

"It's getting late," he observed.

"You should go to bed."

"Maybe I should look up what a sugar plum is first."

"Emerra, Santa Claus doesn't come until you're asleep. There are rules." I managed to keep from laughing, but I rolled my eyes as I got off my chair.

"Well, if it's for Santa, I guess I could go to bed." I figured that would be easier than trying to explain to Jacky why I kept talking about a nonexistent person as if he was real.

"Good night, Emerra."

"Good night, Jacky." Jack Noctis remained in his armchair for an hour that he couldn't perceive. It was marked by the darkness and warmed by the light of the lamps and the fire. A strange stillness stole over the house. Even Iset and Darius, who were usually active at night, fell silent, and the few mice that Jacky indulged paused in their cracks and holes. And, for a fraction of a second, the flames held still.

Anyone else would have assumed it was a trick of their eyes, but Jacky didn't have eyes, and he didn't know what a second was or what a fraction of one might feel like. The flames had stopped moving, and he had seen it. There was a quiet clack off to his side, then a rustle. He didn't even turn his skull.

"It's been a long time since I've had a raven in my house," Jacky said. A man's voice, low but cheerful, answered: "I know. They're not supposed to follow me these days, but when he heard it was your house—well, there was no stopping him."

"I think we've always gotten along well." There was a flutter of black, and a raven perched on the arm of the chair next to Jacky's hand. Noctis raised one of his skeletal fingers. The bird pushed his face against it.

"He agrees," the man said.

"I didn't expect it to be you." The man shrugged his broad shoulders.

"There are some who say I shouldn't be here."

"I'm one of them. How did you get in?"

"I was invited." The man pointed with a large, rough finger to the decorations on the mantle. Jacky sighed.

"I specifically told her, no gods."

"Not even me, old friend?" At last, Jacky looked around. The man was tall, and every inch of his skin was as rough as his hands. His hair and beard were a shaggy mat of white and gray. He wore a fur-lined cloak that might have once been a deep red, but it had been dulled by time. A shadow fell across his face, hiding his right eye. He stood there, waiting, with a smile lurking at the edge of his lips.

"You may come in." Jacky turned back to the fire.

"Have a seat."

"Thank you." The man sighed loudly as he sat in the armchair next to Jacky.

"A long night?" Jacky asked.

"For me, the longest."

"You answer to exaggerated socks now?"

"Times change. A wise god is glad whenever he's invited. Besides, I like my new role."

"How have you been?"

"Oh, adapting. Enjoying myself. I've become fashionable again—we'll see what happens with that."

"Which you?" The man laughed.

"Have you found wisdom yet?" Jacky asked.

"A little bit every day. And how are you doing?"

"Busier than I could have imagined. I lost my freedom when I agreed to help them."

"Did you gain anything?" Jacky put his elbows on the arms of his chair and interlaced his finger bones.

"I think I gained everything." The edge of the man's mustache bent up. He watched the fire as he said, "Sacrifice is a strange thing, isn't it?"

"It is." The raven made a quiet noise and fluffed his wings. Jacky unlaced his hands to pet the bird's head and neck.

"Why are you here?" Jacky asked.

"If you came here as invited, I was under the impression you'd at least have a sack." The man shook his head.

"Not for this stop. I'm here for the children."

"The children?" The man put one of his rough hands to his face for a moment, then he moved it.

"It's been a long time since I've been able to surprise you." He sat up.

"But you remember, I've been a courier before."

"That was ages ago."

"You don't forget the way."

"What claim do you have over them? They aren't yours."

"They are. They know several of my names, old and new. They're born from the lines of my people—""You took warriors." The man's voice boomed: "They are warriors! They're brave and loyal, and they've proven their worth for over three hundred years." In a quieter voice, he added, "Besides, they've been very good children." In the pause, the only sound that could be heard was the rippling flames. Even the raven was careful to be silent as he gazed with his shining black eyes between the two figures.

"And this is your gift to them?" Jacky said.

"The last and best I can give them—safe passage." Noctis sighed.

"Emerra will be sad. She wanted to celebrate Christmas with them." He tilted his skull.

"Can you wait?"

"I'm afraid not. I have more power tonight than any other. It has to be done before the sun rises."

"She'll want to say goodbye."

"That can't be. There are rules."

"Yes. She knows." Jacky tapped his finger bone on the arm rest. The raven bobbed his head to mimic the motion.

"Is there nothing we can do?" The old man rubbed his beard.

"There might be something. There was no letter, but she did invite me here…and she's generally been a good girl."