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Chapter 15~ Looking Higher
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The breath hitched in Kit’s throat as she met the eyes of the stable elf. The small boy, probably a newbie to the team, stared back, clutching a shovel in one hand and a bucket in the other. Seems he was given the short end of the staff.
A sudden reflex kicked in and Kit smiled. “Hi,” she began, closing the stable doors behind her. “I didn’t think anyone would be here this time of night.”
The elf was quiet for a few seconds then looked back at his shovel and gestured.
“Right,” she said, eyes closed. “Um, well, look, I’m here for inspections. Yeah, they like to have us come by at night so as to not disturb the crew during work.” Kit was suddenly very glad she’d decided to wear a knit hat.
The elf narrowed a brow and dropped his shoulders. “You’re pretty big to be an elf.”
“Well, I’m old.” She paused for a second. “And I know The Head Elf.”
Suddenly, the small elf tensed up.
Kit carried on at this. “Oh yeah, Bernard, know him? And I think he’d be very interested to hear how another elf was disrupting the night inspections.”
The boy looked as if he might faint. Kit drew it back in. “Look, I’ll overlook it just this once if you give me ten—no, twenty minutes to do my job, got it?”
The elf nodded vigorously, not daring to meet eyes. He darted past Kit and disappeared behind the stable doors.
But, what worried Kit wasn’t the fact that she’d scared the living daylights out of an elf and possibly gotten herself on the Naughty List—no, it was the part of the plan she hadn’t considered: the terribly loud and terribly violent storm outside.
She looked around her and at all the sleeping reindeer. Also another slight hurdle—she didn’t know how to ride. But, she’d watched enough times to get the gist, right?
She hauled a saddle off the wall and lugged it over to the nearest reindeer—Dasher. The loud thumping sound as it fell was enough to wake him up. The Alpha reindeer lifted his head to Kit and glared at her so hard she thought he might look straight into her soul.
“Stop that,” she scolded, reaching out a hand to brush back the cowlick of fur on his forehead. “You should be excited. We’re going to go save the world.”
Dasher just stared back with drooping eyes before laying his head back down.
“No, come on. You gotta get up!” Kit glanced around at all the other sleeping reindeer before finally landing on a nearby peppermint drop bucket.
“Yes!” she snatched up a handful of the candies and shoved them under Dasher’s nose. They were his favorite after all. His eyes came alive once more, and he reached out his snout in desperation. Kit pulled away and raised the peppermints high in the air.
“Want a treat? Then you’re playing by my rules, ponyboy.”
After a bit of negotiation—with Kit losing a couple peppermints—Dasher finally made it onto his feet and out of his stall. Kit began strapping the saddle and reigns onto Dasher, all the while her heart beating out of her chest.
Why in the world did she choose him? He was the most powerful of all the reindeer and certainly didn’t take direction from just anyone. But, he was the fastest after all, and they needed to be in New York as fast as possible. Kit looked out at the open end of the stable, leading out onto the landing strip. The wind whipped and snow nearly blotted out the glowing red lights. Every second was crucial now.
She turned her attention back to Dasher as she hooked her backpack to his saddle. In her head, she tried to figure out a way to mount him. Why did he seem so tall now? Kit backed up a little ways and tried for a running start. Her foot instantly missed the stirrup. Her chest hit his side like a brick wall, and she was quickly on her back.
The breath flooded back into her as she regained her senses.
“This is going to be harder than I thought.”
After four—maybe five minutes of attempts and inevitable fails, Kit was back on her feet once more. It was obvious Dasher was beginning to grow annoyed.
“Okay, one more try. We’ll get it this time, I promise.”
It was true that failure was the best teacher because Kit had picked up a few tricks of her own. With all the strength in her arms instead of her knees, she hoisted herself up, keeping a firm grip on the saddle. Once she landed herself, she found the center of gravity and slipped her other foot into the stirrup. And something exploded inside her chest.
“Oh my god. I did it. I can’t believe it!” she squealed, hugging onto Dasher who shook her hands away. Kit looked ahead at the storm and noticed a bigger detail. She would have to fly. They would have to fly.
“Hey,” she started, taking hold of the reigns, “You, uh, know how this next part goes, right?”
Dasher snorted, and Kit knew if he could smirk, he definitely would. Kit felt his back legs tense as well as her own heart. Fear filled the bottom of her stomach as Dasher reared back his head. And she held on a tight as she possibly could.
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While Dasher and Kit were halfway down the landing strip and the stable remained calm and empty once again, the door of the stable opened as another elf reappeared. Only this one we knew well.
Bernard jogged over to the center of the stable where Kit had been only moments before and watched as she and Dasher grew smaller and smaller in the distance. He hadn’t meant to follow. He hadn’t even meant to get anywhere near. But, that didn’t matter anymore. She’d get herself killed before anyone else had time to stop her.
He could normally rate how angry he was feeling at any particular moment, but now—now he wasn’t even sure if it was anger. She was forcing him to do the one thing he hated most in the world. Fly.
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“Oh my god, slow down!!” she screamed, but the words seemed to sail into the wind behind her. Kit was positioned as close to Dasher as she could get, pressed tightly again him and head up against his right side. She could barely open her eyes without getting an entire fist’s worth of snow into them. She tried to figure out where they were exactly, but Dasher was making it impossible. She just hoped he knew where he was going. Kit was never really one to be afraid of heights. The many childhood trips to the North Pole had shaken that fear right out of her. However, all those other times, she had the sleigh to hold onto.
She dug her fingers deeper into Dasher’s fur and latched on with a vice-like grip.
“Please don’t let me die, please don’t let me die!” she chanted, eyes squeezed shut. Every whip of the frozen air sent shock waves all across Kit’s face and spine. She felt as if any moment she might freeze and fall off. A gentle blur of lights warmed the insides of her eyelids, and she saw New York begin to appear off in the distance. Kit pushed herself up slightly to find a view of where they might be, but the flurry of snowflakes was far too thick. Besides, a more pressing thought had entered Kit’s mind. How in the world are you supposed to land reindeers?
Kit grabbed hold of the reigns and forced herself up closer to a sitting position. She squeezed her thighs and pressed her ankles into Dasher’s sides like she’d watched Grandpa Scott do.
“Down!” she shouted, yanking the reigns. Dasher was quick to take her hint and angled himself downwards, which Kit hadn’t expected to actually work. Gravity fell onto both of them, and Kit felt herself sliding forward. Instinctively, she shoved a hand across Dasher’s upper back to slow her slipping. But, he took this as a command to push ahead. With a powerful rear kick, Dasher leaped down toward what looked like Upper Manhattan.
“No!” Kit shrieked, folding forward and nearly losing grip of the reigns. It felt like a never-ending drop in a freezing cold rollercoaster. She tried desperately to steer Dasher toward the top of an apartment building. But, they were coming in too fast. Kit could quickly see cars and streets, and soon, street signs themselves.
Her panic was tearing her into threads, and she knew if they kept up this pace, Kit might land too hard and seriously hurt herself. Finding feeling in her fingers, she gripped the reigns and yanked up as hard as she could, steering Dasher toward a nearby apartment building. Their descent slightly softened, and for a second, Kit thought she might not die.
Dasher suddenly tensed and started sweeping his legs to clear a landing path. They finally hit the ground, and Kit felt a shock wave rip through her legs and torso. Dasher slammed his hooves into the roof. Kit weirdly felt her body begin to lift.
It happened so quickly. Her bottom half got flung out her seat, only her hands left on the reigns. But, those soon detached themselves, and she was suddenly flying through the air. Kit only saw the clouds in the night sky above her before her outreached hand smashed into the concrete below. She began to barrel-roll, her upper back smashing into the ground. She tucked her head and body in as tightly as she possibly could before she finally rolled into a mass of snow. Everything fell deathly silent for several minutes as Kit came to her senses. She could barely move and definitely couldn’t ignore the ripping pain in her right hand. She shoved and rolled her body away from the snow. If she could work up the energy to cry, she would’ve without question. But, the only thing she could muster was an agonized groan. The wind whipped hair across her face. She was content to sit there and die.
The clop of hooves slowly approached then stopped. Dasher reached down his snout and nudged Kit’s frozen head, considering giving her a lick and deciding otherwise.
She fluttered her eyes open to meet the large black ones of Dasher. She was a terrible rider. There was no doubt. But, she was in New York. And all at once, time felt precious once more.
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It was broken. It had to be broken.
Kit had never broken a bone in her body before, but she was sure that she was in need of medical attention. But, it didn’t matter. She could lose the hand for all she cared.
The worst part was climbing down the fire escape. She’d never gone down a ladder with one hand. And she swore she’d never do it again. Dasher met her at the bottom as Kit dropped to the pavement, cradling her right wrist. And they began their trek.
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It was almost midnight when Kit finally arrived on Flora Mae’s block. A new type of confidence was pumping through her veins. The scary kind that you got before presenting a speech you’d prepared just barely enough. It could go either way—success or death. You know the feeling.
The storm was just as bad on the ground as it was high in the sky. The wind whipped and snow packed the ground. The only light that Kit could see came from the dull yellow glow of the streetlamps. She counted down the buildings and apartment numbers until eventually finding the tall red-bricked townhouse. She neared the steps and stared at the door. They didn’t have much time. Certainly not enough time to think about her next actions too much. She quickly rang the buzzer, shoving her arm back in her coat to cradle her wrist. Dasher grunted. Kit looked around them. The storm was far too violent for Dasher to bear. Kit eyed the doorway then Dasher’s antlers.
“You might have to lose the horns to fit in.”
She didn’t know if reindeer could roll their eyes, but Dasher certainly tried.
Kit continued ringing the buzzer, knocking, and calling out. But, there was no answer. Kit finally turned back to the street and stepped out onto the sidewalk. She couldn’t break down doors. There was no way she could pick a Manhattan apartment lock. But, their time was far too invaluable to wait around. She’d need to look somewhere else. She’d need to look higher. Higher…
Spinning back around to the townhouse, Kit looked up to the darkened windows, peering desperately through the white winds and smiling. That’s it.
Quickly, she mounted Dasher from the concrete steps, and they began hovering above the door, slowly rising until meeting the windows. Kit reached out, rapping on the window glass and calling “Flora Mae!”. Several seconds passed before a light brightened the room and a hand drew back the blinds.
Kit grinned and waved. “Hello!”
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