“He’s gonna kill you,” a calm voice observed. Someone shifted a blanket on top of me. “You ever been dead before?”

I opened my eyes and sat bolt upright.

The carriage. The woman.

I’d been bleeding.

“Who’s going to kill me?”

“Whoa!” someone said, and pushed me gently back down into a throne of pillows. Not a second too soon, either; sitting up so quickly had made the world spin around me, and the edges of my vision were starting to close in again.

I took a deep breath and blinked, trying to focus on something—anything.

I was okay. Or, at least, I was alive, and that was a good place to start.

“They’re not going to kill you,” the voice said. “They’re going to kill Crystal and Aspen. They’re the ones who ran into you. That’s Crystal,” he added, nodding his chin toward a short young woman with pale blond hair and an anxious expression.

This must be a hospital. Except it didn’t look like a hospital. The ceiling above me was red and domed and set with a giant inlay of a golden compass rose.

I shifted, carefully this time, and looked at the person sitting by the four-posted bed I was lying on. He was slender and had the flawless, loose posture of a dancer. A mess of dark curls tumbled around his pale face, and his slightly pointed ears and playful smile gave him an elfin look.

“Who are you?”

“I’m Felix,” he said. “And you’re Holly, right? We ran your fingerprints.”

I hadn’t known hospitals did that. I rubbed my head. It ached.

“Holly North, right?” he said. “That’s an awesome name.”

“My parents thought it would be funny,” I said. “I was born in December and I got stuck with a Christmas name. Guess I should be lucky they didn’t name me Pole.”

“That’s funny,” he said, and laughed.

The sound made my head throb.

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block out the light and the noise. “Where am I?”

He paused.

“Well, it’s ironic,” he said.

I opened my eyes and looked at him. His head was tilted, and his lips were pursed like the was trying to make sure no words escaped before he’d thought them through.

“What?” I said.

“Your name. The Pole thing.”

The door opened, and I looked over to see a tall, overweight old man with glasses walk in.

He didn’t seem like a doctor. He had one of those giant beards I’d only ever seen on aging hippies and mall Santas, and he was wearing a green flannel shirt that made him look like a lumberjack’s grandpa.

Crystal rushed up to him.

“I am so sorry,” she said, wringing her hands. “I didn’t expect it to be so icy, and something was glitching on the nav panel and I got distracted. It was dark and I just panicked. She’s okay. I mean, she’s going to be okay.”

“We’ll talk in my office,” the man said. His voice was deep and warm, with a hint of an accent I couldn’t place, but he had on a serious, concerned expression as he looked down at her. He put a hand on Crystal’s shoulder. “Go find Aspen and bring him with you. We need to discuss your driving privileges.”

She nodded, looking miserable, and left the room. The man folded his arms across his chest and looked at me.

“How are you feeling?”

“I don’t know yet.”

I struggled to sit up, slowly this time. I realized I was wearing polka-dotted flannel pajamas, which beat out a hospital gown in terms of comfort but still seemed odd.

“My head hurts.”

“That’s not surprising,” the man said. “You had quite a collision there.”

“They didn’t bring me here by ambulance, did they?” I said.

I could not afford an ambulance bill right now. I could only imagine what I’d racked up in hospital fees already.

Felix giggled. The old man gave him a sharp look, and said, “No, no, you didn’t come by ambulance. An ambulance would have a hard time getting here.”

The snow must have gotten worse.

A horrible thought struck me.

“Oh, no,” I said. “Not a helicopter.”

One of Felix’s dark eyebrows shot up into a perfect, quizzical arch.

“Why would we bother with a helicopter?”

“Felix,” the old man said, warning in his voice.

Felix held up a hand and waved it, as if to say okay, okay, and pressed his lips tightly together. He made a face at me, which the older man either didn’t notice or chose to ignore.

My head throbbed with pain. I wished they’d all leave and turn out the lights when they went.

I cleared my throat. “When can I go home?”

The old man and Felix exchanged looks. The man tightened his arms across his chest and looked down at me. A few lines appeared between his bushy white eyebrows.

“I’m afraid we’ve run into a little transportation problem,” he said. “It might be a while.”

The weather must be bad if hospital vehicles weren’t even running. Not that I could take whatever vehicle a hospital tried to provide.

“I’ll just get a rideshare,” I said. Instinctively, I reached for my pocket, but of course, the flannel pajamas I had on didn’t have pockets. My stomach tensed. “Where’s my phone?”

Felix snorted.

“Felix,” the old man barked.

“Sorry,” he said, not looking sorry at all. “Your phone isn’t going to get much service around here.”

Of course it wouldn’t. These were the Colorado mountains, and my cell plan sucked.

I took a deep breath and tried to pretend to be patient. “Do you have WiFi?”

“Nope.”

“What do you mean, nope?” I said.

I sat up straighter. What kind of hospital didn’t even have internet?

“Well, not any kind that’s compatible with Humdrum devices,” Felix said.

Sure, it wasn’t a great phone, but calling it humdrum seemed a little rude. I looked around, but my phone was nowhere to be seen.

I got my first good view of the rest of the room, though. It was full of shimmering crimson wallpaper, an enormous cherrywood fireplace, and a marble floor covered with fluffy white rugs. A giant, massive, absurdly big Christmas tree sparkled in the corner with a thousand lights and ornaments that looked like they might be made of real crystal.

This wasn’t a hospital. This was a hotel—the kind I couldn’t afford.

“Where am I?” I demanded. My insides churned.

The old man looked at me, and then a smile started in the corner of his mouth under his beard. It spread to his lips and then the entirety of his face, transforming his expression into one that startled me with its warmth. His eyes twinkled in a way I hadn’t realized real people’s eyes could.

I smiled back, then caught myself—what was I doing?—and looked to Felix for some kind of explanation. He just grinned at me.

“Can I?” he said.

The old man nodded.

Felix turned to me, glee all over his face.

“Welcome to the North Pole,” he said.