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Chapter 18~ Silver Bells
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When Bernard and Kit reached the top of the apartment building, they paused in the freezing 2 A.M. wind that whipped at Kit’s hair and Bernard’s grey coat. Their walk had been quiet, filled only with shivers and Bernard’s yawns. Say what you will about immortals—they keep a very strict sleep schedule. They watched Prancer and Dasher hover to the top of the building and land a few yards away. But, it was hopeless trying to fly across the Atlantic without being shot down or seriously injured. Bernard had tossed up the ideas in his head and had only landed on one. Kit looked at him, waiting for him to say something. She glanced at her phone’s compass before pointing to her left into the night sky.
“That’s our direction. We can’t fly too high or else we’ll freeze, but we need to stay in the line of the clouds so we’re not easily spotted over civilization. Any ideas?”
“One. It’s not great, but it’ll get us there. I’ll need something,” he said.
“Like what?”
“Scrap metal, anything really.”
Kit looked around over her shoulder at the mostly barren rooftop. Along the side of the railing was a ladder laid on the ground and part of a rusty generator. She shuffled over to the generator, grabbed hold of one side of its plates, and ripped as hard as she could. The whole side came off in one fell swoop. Kit hissed slightly at her hand.
“Kit!” Bernard snapped, “What did I say about putting work on your hand?”
“Doesn’t matter,” she continued, dropping the hunk of metal at Bernard’s feet. “Work your magic, elf boy.”
He paused, giving her a look. “Elf boy?”
Kit tilted her head slightly, almost challenging him. “Yeah.”
He smirked to himself and let the heat build in his fingertips once more. “You know I’m having to use a lot of magic for you here recently. I feel like maybe I should get compensated.”
She frowned.
He nodded. “Okay, too far.” He snapped his fingers, and the large sheet of metal began shifting and stretching into a round bowl shape…almost a boat…now a sled…
“It’s a sleigh!” she exclaimed.
Not a great one in the least. It was thin in places and disproportioned but usable, safe, and big enough for the both of them.
“I figure it’ll get us to Europe without another major accident.”
Kit smirked, her eyes gleaming. “Oh, where’s your spirit of adventure?”
“Back in the North Pole. Come on, get in.”
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Bernard harnessed and tied up the reindeer to the sleigh. With a bit of extra magic to kick up their speed, it may only take a few hours for them to make it across the Atlantic Ocean. He didn’t let it show, but he was beginning to feel the tiredness that came with his magic. Too much of it in one day and he’d need to rest. But, Kit needed it more. They settled into the seats of the sleigh. Bernard’s hands wrapped tightly around the reigns.
“Are you ready?” he unsurely asked.
Kit wrapped her hands tight around the sides of the sleigh and tensed. “Ready.”
Bernard tugged the reins, and the bottom of the sleigh began shaking as the reindeer began to near the edge of the rooftop. They lifted off, and the bottom of the sleigh began sliding downwards.
“Bernard!” she shouted.
“Hold on!” Bernard latched his hands onto the sides of the sleigh and pressed the warmth further in. The sleigh lurched upwards before steadying out again. The reindeer pulled and kicked, dragging them higher and higher into the air. As the sleigh finally settled and they drifted over the city clouds, Bernard looked over to Kit clutched to his arm. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” she sighed, releasing her held breath and loosening her grip, “I’m fine.”
The sleigh rose higher above the clouds, and the chilling air rippled through each space between them. Kit shivered bitterly against his shoulder. Her teeth chattered and she trembled.
“Hey, you’re freezing.”
She didn’t even try to argue.
“Look behind you,” Bernard said, “I can’t have you catching pneumonia.”
Kit groped the space of the seat behind her and her hands landed on thick fur. She pulled out a heavy black-fur blanket that looked like something straight out of a Game of Thrones episode. Without a second thought, she wrapped it tight around herself and buried her chin deep into the fur.
“W-W-What...about y-you?”
What felt like 10 degrees to a human only felt 65 to an elf. The sharp relentless gales felt only like a cool breeze.
“I’ll be fine. My skin’s pretty tough—not like yours. Don’t worry about me.”
A moment of quietness passed between them. Bernard offered little to no body warmth, but still, she shuffled closer.
“I’m…t-t-tough,” she moaned.
Bernard smiled to himself before looking down to Kit beside him, bundled up in a ball and nearly half-asleep. There was the warmth again. He felt it beginning in his hands without a thought. He felt a glowing inside his chest that made even his skin tingle. He wasn’t even trying. Suddenly, he heard a sizzling sound and noticed the rope of the reigns beginning to singe from his hands. He quickly latched them onto the sleigh’s post and let them cool. He needed to cool.
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After about an hour, Kit had fallen fast asleep. She laid, head draped on Bernard’s arm with her legs bundled up in the thick fur blanket. And it was the best she’d slept in weeks. There was nothing underneath them but a black, empty ocean that spanned to the earth’s very horizon—like a dark canvas of void for miles and miles. Bernard still held hope for the reindeer’s strength. He’d been emitting small traces of his own magic into them since they left, just to ensure they could make the trip. And he began to feel the draining like blood falling away from the skin and down into the feet. He hadn’t used this much magic in a single day in years. He tried to keep his mind occupied while he watched, drawing thoughts away from his fatigue and the girl laying on his shoulder. He thought of Curtis, of all people, and how he was keeping up with the Workshop. He had, no doubt, the utmost assurance and confidence in him, but he’d never left Curtis in charge unannounced. Usually, any long necessary absence of Bernard was preceded with a week-long prep session and training seminars before the date. And, well, Curtis did have the tendency to overthink and panic—he’d criticized this many times in past performance reviews, after all. Bernard’s job meant so much to him. It was all he ever imagined for himself. Leading people was all he was ever good at. And he knew, one day, the position of Head Elf would go to Curtis, and Bernard would have to find his own spot in the world.
He peered down to the vast, empty sea trailing under them and suddenly felt a queasiness in his stomach and an ache in his head. Thinking of it was too much to handle. He stared back up at the reindeer as Kit, still asleep, shifted her weight away from him, a hand slipping from her blanket and draping across her knee. Bernard tried to keep his eyes ahead. Every time he looked at Kit, his heart turned into something he couldn’t describe—like the shattering of a glass ornament into a million shards or even a hot mass of lava running out of control through his veins.
He had tried so hard to get the two of them back to where they once were years ago, but inside, the truth was clear enough. They never would. Kit was different now—not just the haircut or the few inches she’d grown or even her new Columbia University dream. And Bernard didn’t see her the same anymore. He felt stupid around her—like every logical thought he’d carefully crafted for thousands of years read like Braille to him. And he couldn’t stand to see her walk away to someplace he couldn’t follow. He just wanted to hold her, feel her warmth, and lift her up so everyone could finally see the greatness he saw in her.
Bernard realized he’d been staring, quite obviously, and flicked his eyes away to the floor of the sleigh. Then, he saw her hand, calm and tranquil against the fur blanket. He saw her sleeping face, so still and serene despite the occasional gust of wind blowing through a wisp of hair. And before he could even think, Bernard reached out a hand towards her, so careful and hesitant as if she might be made of nothing but smoke. As his fingers touched the soft of her skin, his chest began to beat gently from a place deep inside. She was noticeably warmer than him, nearly heating up his own hand. But, more than that, she felt electric, as if her own sort of magic was radiating off of her and invading his every nerve, every sense. As his fingers began enveloping hers, he let the last few traces of his own magic warm her hand and spread through her whole being. Kit drowsily shifted her weight back onto his shoulder, resting her cheek on him and drawing closer to the comfort only he could provide. And the beating in Bernard’s chest grew so loud that he thought she might hear it. He softly squeezed her hand as the last of his energy drifted away. His eyelids began to fall and his head grew heavy. But, the clear fact rang and echoed through his mind like an icy silver bell.
He loved Kit.
Perhaps, he always had.
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