Everyone was making the proper preparations for The Ride, letting Pandora focus on processing her journals in time for Christmas Eve. Pandora had just finished that job, sending the elves all twelve love stories, before grabbing herself a cup of coffee and walking through The Workshop.

Tío Tió de Nadal had managed to conjure up enough material for paper for all the paperback copies of the romance novels.

Tía Bûche de Noël had worked with the elves to start a candy box stuffing operation and had summoned up giant piles of all kinds of confections, from mixed candy and nuts to marzipan pigs.

The Yuletide Lads and their parents had been in charge of managing the novel printing and publishing operation.

As the books were printed, they were bound, hot off the presses. They were stuffed into boxed sets that had some very nice packaging, courtesy of the graphic design elves. The editing elves were pooped, as Pandora’s journals were riddled with colloquialisms and general misspellings. The boxed sets were shaped like festive present boxes and had room on top for a few boxes of chocolate. The chocolates would last the romance readers through all sixteen hundred or so pages of the stories that Pandora had turned from journal entries into romance novels.

The only question was, would the readers like the first books enough to see the entire series through? There was no way of finding out until the gifts had finally been delivered. Hopefully, the romance readers would love the stories and learn the truth about ice elementals and start to believe in them. Every page turned by every reader would matter.

Everything was going according to plan.

So why didn’t things feel okay?

Pandora looked into the freezer.

Jack looked like every frikkin’ fairytale princess ever, encased in a ‘glass’ coffin made of ice. She remembered the comparison Krampus had drawn, between Jack and The Matchstick Girl. It was hard for her to believe that the ice was what was keeping Jack alive, rather than keeping him from fading away…but, if Jack was going to be frozen for a thousand years, in a way, it was like a long death. It certainly wasn’t living. Pandora had tried her best to be Jack’s Christmas angel, to work a Christmas miracle. There was no telling whether it had been enough, not yet.

Pandora couldn’t help it. She’d visited Jack every day since he’d had to be frozen. Watching him get frozen by Boreas was a memory she’d tried to suppress, but every time she revisited Jack, she brought those same memories.

Boreas. The ice elementals. Jack. The empty freezer. The ritual seemed more scientific than magical at points, involving mechanisms foreign to The North Pole, but at other points, it was obviously magical, with the use of reagents like never-melting ice and herbs that Pandora couldn’t identify but that Befana had helped look over.

Ever since the beginning of this whole crazy journey, the effort to save Jack had been a group effort, and even then, Pandora was not alone.

Pandora felt a hand on her shoulder.

“Hey, Dad,” said Pandora, reaching to feel the hand, but it wasn’t her dad’s hand. She turned to face the person touching her.

“You know what I wouldn’t give to hear him say those words again?” asked Boreas, shaking his head, pulling his hand back. “Let me guess — every day?”

Pandora nodded.

“Surprised we didn’t run into each other sooner, then,” said Boreas. “Must be those North vs. South Pole time zones at it again. Anyway. To tell you the truth, I did come down here to get you. Thought you might want to see something that’ll bring a smile to your face.”

“I doubt anything could do that right now,” said Pandora, looking back to Jack as her eyes welled with tears.

“Oh, come on,” said Boreas, giving Pandora a light punch in the arm. “You wouldn’t want your father to hear that his daughter had lost the Christmas spirit, now, would you?”

‘I guess not,” said Pandora, wiping her eyes, but the tears kept coming.

“Hey — I wouldn’t want to hear that my future daughter-in-law had lost that spirit either,” said Boreas, crouching down to get on Pandora’s level. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a clean handkerchief and passed it to Pandora.

“Your future what?” asked Pandora, wiping her eyes.

“As if that’s not where you two are headed,” said Boreas.

“You seem awfully confident in that prediction,” said Pandora, raising an eyebrow.

“I gotta be,” said Boreas. “Either you save your future husband, or your wedding’s not for another thousand years…and who do you think has to seal him up permanently?”

“I hadn’t even thought of that,” said Pandora. “With everything going on, it’s easy to forget that you have the hardest job of all.”

“Come on, now, kid,” said Boreas, walking down the hall. “At that rate, you’re going to make me cry. Now, we’ve got a show to watch.”

Pandora followed after Boreas and, like Orpheus, she couldn’t resist turning back to take one last look at Jack. She turned back to Boreas and quickly ran up to him. Boreas walked quickly, leading Pandora out toward the empty tarmac.

“What’m I looking for?” asked Pandora, stuffing her hands in her pockets and looking around.

“He should’ve been here by now,” grumbled Boreas, looking at his watch. He looked back up and scanned the skies.

“There,” said Boreas. “You see that tiny red dot? Keep watching it.”

“Is that…” started Pandora.

“You bet your father’s sleigh,” said Boreas. “But, stay here. I gotta go handle some shit, but, you’re gonna wanna watch this.”

Pandora looked up. A giant red plane with a demon’s face painted on the front flew over the tarmac of The North Pole. The side of the aircraft opened.

At first, Pandora had a hard time seeing what was inside the plane. It looked like a moving mass of black and white with speckles of yellow.

Tiny beings, all around a foot to four feet tall, pooled around the exit to the plane. Then, they jumped, and Pandora realized what she was watching.

Krampus had delivered the ice elementals after all…but for some reason, they were all in their penguin shifts. The penguins of varying species jumped out the plane, squawking. They were wearing special tiny backpacks. The different species had different colored bags. Each pack looked like a Christmas present, until the penguins released the parachutes, using ripcords held in their beaks.

The parachutes exploded into the air, covering the sky in a rainbow of giant ornament balls. The parachutes were red, green, gold, blue, and silver. They were patterned with various festive designs.

The penguins chirped as they floated through the air, some turning in small spirals as they moved toward the ground, some flapping their wings, others kicking their feet. The usually icy ice elementals were actually bringing some humor and joy to The North Pole for once. It was indeed a Christmas miracle and proof that the 2018 Christmas at The North Pole was different from any other Christmas in memory.

The penguins hit the tarmac and shifted into their human forms. Their human forms were all clad in tactical black suits. They were in literal suits, tactical tuxedos, the standard uniform down at The South Pole.

“Well, slap a glittery gold star on my head and call me a Christmas tree,” said Pandora, sipping at her hot cocoa. “The crazy demon did it.”

Pandora drank her hot beverage and watched as the notoriously flightless birds floated through the air, down to the tarmac. It was raining penguins. The penguins just kept coming, wave after wave of the birds dropping out of the plane as Krampus flew in tight circles around the tarmac.

The last wave of birds hit the tarmac. The ice elementals had gotten into formation. They were like a sexy version of the Chinese Terracotta Armor, standing perfectly still, like mannequins in a warehouse, waiting for their orders. Even the ladies were wearing tuxedos — tailored for their form, but still quite formal and classy. Pandora noticed that a few of the ice elementals seemed to have remained in their penguin forms. They were waddling around the tarmac, kicking the snow, rolling around, and bothering the suited penguins who were waiting for their orders.

Krampus landed the plane. Krampus and his mystery copilot got out of the cockpit and walked toward Pandora. The Christmas elves in charge of the tarmac teleported the plane back to its hangar.

“How’d you like the show, kid?” asked Krampus.

“It was one of the coolest things I’ve ever seen,” admitted Pandora. “Who’s your mystery copilot?”

“Are you frikkin’ serious?” asked a familiar voice. The figure removed its baseball cap. A ponytail tumbled out of the hat. Two pointed ears popped out. The figure removed her scarf and sunglasses, revealing her face.

“Avery?” asked Pandora, shocked. “You were the copilot? Why the disguise?”

“This is no disguise,” said Avery. “It was frikkin’ freezing in that plane. We had to keep all the ice elementals cold.”

“Why were they in their bird forms?” asked Pandora.

“Because we could fit more penguins than fully grown men in the plane,” said Krampus. “It’s simple math. The smallest species of penguin represented here is what, a foot tall? The tallest is around four feet tall. Do you see a man or woman in that veritable army under six feet tall?”

“Well…the ones that didn’t shift back into their human form are still pretty small,” said Pandora.

“The ones that —” started Avery. “Krampus! I told you! Going in with a giant net and scoop up every dang penguin you saw made no sense! We caught some stragglers.”

“Woman, if we went with your idea, and marched them into the plane two by two like the animals into Noah’s Ark, we would still be down there,” argued Krampus. “There was no time to take attendance! Boreas told his shifters where to meet us. It’s on them for not shooing away these interlopers.”

“You mean…those penguins aren’t part of Boreas’ crew?” asked Pandora, stifling a laugh. Some of the penguins were just waddling around with their ornament parachutes trailing behind them. At least they were comfortably cold.

“No, and now, we’ve got to make sure we corral them back to The South Pole before the polar bears up here learn that down South, there’s a veritable bird buffet. Winner, winner, penguin dinner…for the polar bears, but not for our feathered friends,” said Avery.

“Toss them to the bears,” grumbled Krampus. “Makes my job a Hell of a lot easier.”

“And that is why you’ll never get on The Nice List again,” said Avery, rolling her eyes.

“Well, I have half a mind to go catch one and roast it for our dinner tonight, so I hope you like the taste of fish and poultry mixed together,” said Krampus.

“He’s insufferable,” said Avery.