Tracy
The door was locked. She tried it about a hundred times, hoping for a different result, but it stayed locked no matter what she did. She even tried picking it with a paperclip, but that only worked in the movies. What good was packing an emergency supply kit if it didn't help in emergencies?
She folded her arms across her chest and huffed as she sagged back against the door. If she was going to find Mrs. Claus and grill her for information, she had only one option. She marched over to the armoire, where she pulled out one of E. Higgens' handmade coats. But before she put it on, she grabbed hold of the name tag in the collar, ripped it out, then slipped it into her neck pouch. Evidence, because she doubted anyone would let her take the coat home with her.
The coat hung down to her knees, but when she tightened up the black leather belt, it fit more like a dress. More importantly, it would keep her from freezing to death in the Arctic as she searched for another room from the outside.
She grabbed the lip of the window and heaved upward, putting way more muscle into it than she had before. It moved a few inches, but she forgot to be careful, and her broken arm screamed in pain.
“Ow! Ow! Ow! OW!” She jumped up and down, clutching her arm to her chest.
Then, she remembered to be quiet. Santa didn't want her leaving the room, so he'd probably frown on her going out the window. But gathering evidence was essential to saving Pim. Surely, Santa would forgive her, especially if she got everything she needed before he found out she was gone.
Tracy pushed the window up, taking a lot more care with her arm this time, and climbed through it. As she popped out onto the crunchy dried up grass, the window slammed shut behind her. She whirled around and nearly fell over. Santa's house was gone! It was as if she were standing in a small clearing with the skeletons of dead trees closing in on her.
This was the second time that night she had been truly afraid. What happened to the house? How was she going to find her way back in? How was she going to find her way home?
She closed her eyes and forced herself to calm down. There had to be a rational explanation. Buildings didn't just disappear. It was probably some trick of light or mirrors designed to keep anyone from accidentally stumbling onto Santa's house. She hadn't heard of many people hiking around the North Pole looking for Santa, but if she had been brought there, then others had probably been brought there too. Santa had to have some sort of plan to ensure people couldn't find their way back.
With trembling hands, she reached out in front of her, swishing them through the air until her fingertips brushed against the cool concrete. She pressed her palms and her forehead against the wall and sighed with relief.
The house was still there. It was simply…hidden.
It felt strange, because it looked like she was leaning against absolutely nothing, but the wall was there. The scratchy concrete told her so.
Once she knew the building hadn't gone anywhere, she ran her hands along the wall, trying to find the window again. She had no intention of going back in that way, but she needed to know that it was an option.
She found the window. The problem was, there was no way to open it again. No edge that she could tuck her fingers under, and no way to muscle it open by pushing up on the glass. She hoped the other windows weren't like that, but figured they probably were. Well, maybe she could find a back door or something.
Tracy held her breath as she scuffled forward, dragging her fingers along the wall, searching for an opening. The North Pole was supposed to be wondrous, but this place reminded her more of a graveyard at midnight than a magical toy shop.
The silence made her ears feel like they'd been stuffed with cotton. Nothing skittered. Nothing squeaked. Every now and then, a slight wind blew, and the bare tree branches scratched against each other, rattling Tracy's nerves. Even the building felt rough and uninviting. She scrunched up inside the red velvet coat, but it wasn't enough to stop the chill from spreading through her bones.
As the minutes piled on top of her, she continued inching her way down the building.
Maybe my window was the only way in, she thought. The night was beginning to feel like an episode of Doctor Who. Elves that turned into trolls. Windows that weren't really windows. Buildings that disappeared when you looked at them. What if she really wasn't at Santa's workshop? What if she'd fallen into some other dimension or had been kidnapped by some alien masquerading as Santa?
She was just about to let her imagination take her to a different planet when a large column of light appeared in the middle of the forest. It was maybe a football field away, and it shot up into the sky as if the ground had opened up. To confirm her theory, Santa's sleigh whooshed overhead, zooming straight toward the light.
Well, that's more like it.
Tracy ran through the trees, ducking as the branches snagged on her coat and pulled at her hair. Santa's sleigh hovered in the beam of light for half a second, then lowered down, disappearing behind a large outcropping of rock. By the time she reached the spot where the light had appeared, both it and the sleigh were gone. In their place sat a small, perfectly still pond. A cave framed one side of it, and dangling above the entrance, reaching down toward the water, was a line of icicles that looked like a frozen chandelier. The icicles were too perfect. Each one was roughly the same size, and they were spaced evenly apart.
Something about the pond was off too. She had never seen one that calm, and it didn't smell like earth or mold. It smelled like that car factory her parents had once taken her to—oil and metal. She approached the edge and swished her hand through the water, finding exactly what she expected. The water wasn't there. Another trick of light, just like Santa's house. She reached down further and instead of finding mud, her hand touched something hard and smooth. She tapped it with her fingernails, and it echoed slightly, like a tin drum. Tracy smiled, the kind of smile where crazy ideas start to make sense. She held no hope of getting the ground to open up for her, but she didn't think she needed to.
Those icicles stretched down just like a gate, but they didn't quite reach the surface of the water. Lifting up the hem of her coat, just in case, Tracy waded into the pretend pond. The illusion swirled around her ankles, but her assumption held true. There wasn't a single drop of water in that clearing.
When she got to the icicles, she looked closely at them, noticing each one had a thin, metal tube running the length of it. Yep, those icicles had a purpose. They certainly were real though. And cold.
She sat down in the “water” and sucked in a deep breath, holding it in puffed out cheeks. She knew she didn't need to, but the illusion was just so real. Then, she laid down and rolled under the wall of icicles.
On the other side, she sat up, still holding her breath. No alarms. No flashing lights to warn Santa of intruders. They had taken a great deal of care to create a fake world, but it didn't seem to go beyond that. Well, that was good at least. Tracy let out her breath and stood up.
From inside the cave, it was easy to find the stairs carved out of the wall at the back. She took one last look around to make sure there weren't any cameras or trip wires, then started down the stairs.