It stood upright, glinting gold and crimson, sparkling under the lights and buzzing with a power I couldn’t see but could sense in the air around us. It wasn’t large, maybe only a few feet long and slender enough that I could have wrapped my hand around it.

“That’s it.” I hadn’t meant to whisper, but there was something majestic about the small object that filled me with reverence.

Felix had no such inhibitions.

“Yep,” he said brightly, and walked toward it. I followed cautiously.

It was the only thing in the room, and it was the only thing that needed to be in the room. It rested in a Christmas tree stand with spindly golden legs. Stripes of gold and crimson spiraled up its surface, and at its top was a ball of gilded filigree. Inside the ball, light sparkled blue and red, lightning and flames dancing together.

The whole thing spun slowly, creating the illusion that the stripes were twisting up the pole like a snake.

Felix grabbed the gold railing that surrounded the platform and used it to swing himself up to stand on the platform’s edge. He hung over the railing like a kid hanging over a fence, totally unimpressed by the magical object in front of us.

“North Pole, meet Holly. Holly, meet the real North Pole.”

I stood on the floor, not daring to get closer. I imagined I could carry the pole without trouble, although I suspected the power coursing through it would be enough to knock me out.

“What is it?” I said. “I mean—why?”

“Why’s it here?”

“And what does it do? And why does he want it?”

I didn’t dare say Frost’s name here, as though doing so might magically summon him. I couldn’t stand the thought of running into him again, and the idea of him getting anywhere near this pole filled me with a dread I couldn’t put a finger on.

Felix watched the pole spin for a long moment.

“Santa’s not really here for the toys,” he finally said. “It’s not about the presents. He’s the Guardian.”

“Of the pole?”

“Of the world.”

He turned to look at me, and the surprise on my face must have delighted him, because a small dimple appeared on his cheek and his eyes twinkled.

“It’s not quite that dramatic,” he admitted, then pursed his lips thoughtfully. “Actually, no, it is. It’s dramatic. This pole is the source of Jack Frost’s power. He created it hundreds of years ago. Tried to harness the powers of ice and fire. It was a huge success and the world paid for it.”

“What happened?”

“Cold snap,” Felix said. “A lot of people died. A lot of crops failed. Frost didn’t mind. It meant he could be out in the world more. He’s a frost sprite,” he added at my confused expression. “Can’t go out where it’s warm or he’ll melt. If he can’t go out, that means he can’t exert his power over the Glims, and exerting power is kind of Frost’s thing. Some people like money, some people like quiet evenings at home, and some people just like knowing they can magically beat up everyone in a three-country radius.”

It matched what I’d seen of Frost. He hadn’t tried to magically beat me up, but he’d had me cornered, even though it was clear I’d wanted to get out. No decent person would have kept me trapped, but Frost had.

“How’d Santa get it?”

“No one knows,” Felix said. “Well, except maybe Mary, but she’s not talking. Whatever happened, the Faerie Queen ended up ordering him to protect it. He didn’t want to.”

I gave in and climbed up beside Felix so I could lean over the railing to get a better look at the pole. The lights flickering in the bulb on top seemed powerful but contained.

“Why not just keep it in Bermuda?” I said. “Or, like, anywhere near the equator?”

“It’s tied to the Arctic Circle, just like Frost. If it gets too far from the Circle or Frost, its powers will fall out of balance and it’ll—well, no one knows. Some people think it’ll explode. Some people think it’ll send the planet into an eternal winter, which is what Frost wanted it for in the first place. Or maybe its power will ricochet and send the planet into an eternal summer. And you thought global warming was bad.”

He waited for me to get his hilarious joke. I narrowed my eyes at him and he sighed.

“Only Santa and Frost know for sure,” he said. “All I know is that the pole has to stay here, which means Santa does, too.”

I let the pieces slide slowly into place in my mind. No wonder Santa had been so on edge earlier. I would be, too, if failing at my job meant the entire world was going to freeze or fry.

“That must be a lot of stress,” I said.

Felix snorted. “Understatement of the year.”

One last piece still wasn’t fitting. I watched the pole spin as I tried to figure it out, then gave up.

“What do all the toys have to do with it?”

Felix smirked. “Santa hates his job,” he said. “He’s stuck here, though. The Workshop is his attempt to do something with his life that enjoys.”

I stared at him. “Christmas—the entirety of Christmas—is one old man’s distraction?”

He shrugged. “Basically.”

He hopped down from the platform. I put my hands on my hips and faced him.

“The entire Workshop exists because he didn’t like being the Guardian of the pole and needed to kill time?”

“More or less.” Felix grinned and put his hands in his pockets. He rocked back and forth on his heels, unable to be still for more than a moment. “His Christmas journey is part of his annual check to be sure Jack hasn’t found another way to expand his territory. Bringing presents to the kids is just something he does to make the trip more interesting.”

I couldn’t wrap my mind around it. But then, I hadn’t been able to wrap my mind around much of anything since I’d first gotten here, so why should this be any different?

“Elves immigrated here because Santa needed help,” he said. “Plus the North Pole has a great quality of life. It’s warm inside the dome because Santa’s from Turkey originally and hates the cold, and so he creates a Mediterranean climate inside it. You should stick around and see this place in summer.”

I ran my hand through my hair. “For real.”

“I’m totally serious right now,” he said.

“Wow.”

It seemed unlikely and absurd—and yet, it made perfect sense, and I was almost surprised I hadn’t figured it out earlier.

Not that I could have figured it out earlier, because the whole thing was insane.

“This is ridiculous.”

“No,” Felix said, raising his eyebrows at me. “It’s cool. It’s really, really cool.”

“Pun not intended.”

“Pun always intended.”

He held up a hand. When I didn’t react, he rolled his eyes, grabbed my hand, and high-fived himself.

“You now know as much as any elf here,” he said. “You’re basically a citizen now. Welcome to the North Pole.”

“Why shouldn’t I be a citizen? It’s not like things could get any weirder.”

Felix grinned, and an icy chill gripped me as the lights went out.