Page 4 of Naughty Elf: Aster

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Page 4 of Naughty Elf: Aster

Noel shrugged. “Not a lot.”

Sweet pup. No one should have to lose a parent that young. “How about tomorrow, after we do our shopping, we watch some videos of your papa? Would you like that?”

He nodded again. “Yeah. Can I pick out a toy?”

Groaning, I tickled his sides. It was so close to the holidays. He knew the rules. He also knew he had me wrapped around his finger. “Okay. But just a little one.”

“Deal, bruh.” He pulled a fist out of his comforter to fist-bump me.

Bruh. My kid was calling me bruh. “My name is Dad. No more bruh.” I chuckled and left him to get his rest.

Chapter Three

Aster

It shouldn’t have come as a surprise to me when Santa sent for me later that night. I didn’t just have a little mess up. I messed up on a scale I don’t think any cookie baker had ever seen. Not only did Santa have no cookies, but neither did the elves in my department. They all probably hated me right now.

And, fair enough. I wasn’t exactly happy with myself.

It was almost a relief to get the message delivered. It was on a Christmas card, of course. You can’t get in trouble without it being festive around here. But the truth was, no matter what lay in store for me when I faced the Christmas carols, it couldn’t be nearly as horrible as the consequences I’d made up in my head.

There was a rumor that not all of the Krampuses were born that way, that some of them had done something awful and that was their punishment. I couldn’t imagine having to intentionally terrify children each year. I understood it was tradition and humans celebrated them, but it wasn’t in my personality. If I were going to be around human children as part of the holiday celebrations, I’d want to be building gingerbread villages and making snow people, not giving them nightmares. Oh, and glitter. I so loved glitter.

Looking back down at the card again to make sure I had the time right, I pulled on my coat. It wasn’t the first time I read it. Heck, it wasn’t the forty-second. I had myself so freaked out about being late that I didn’t trust myself to remember a single time.

Walking through the crowds of people going about their business had me feeling like an outsider for the first time. They were singing, skipping, laughing, and having a merry old time in the village, like there wasn’t a life-changing meeting about tohappen. They had no idea that I was about to face the wrath of Santa Claus.

Was I being dramatic? Gods, I hoped so. He’d never been anything but nice to me. For all I knew, I was stressing out for no reason. I wouldn’t know for sure until I got there.

I was glad to at least be dealing with it tonight and not have to wait until the morning. There was no way on this pole that I’d have managed a wink of sleep with this hanging over me. And if morning came and it was time for work? I’d have had no idea what to do. This was better. Like pulling off a bandage.

After I cleaned the kitchen, I tried to find Ernie. He wasn’t home. He wasn’t with his friend, one of the Krampuses. He wasn’t anywhere that I could think of.

Was he embarrassed by me? Was he worried that he was going to get into trouble too? Was he mad that I ruined the cookies? Or worse, did he get sick from the little bit he ate? And if he did, did that mean Santa got sick, also.

It was amazing how many spirals I could get myself into during the few hours since I saw Santa take his first nibble.

The short walk to Santa’s office felt like miles, the dread building stronger and stronger in my middle with each step. When I arrived, I half expected to see the Elf Council or maybe Elf Resources telling me I was demoted. I’d have deserved a demotion, that was for sure.

Instead, it was just Santa there when I knocked on the door. He walked in and sat in his big red chair with two cups of cocoa on the coffee table. He indicated for me to take a seat across from him. He hadn’t said a single word since I arrived.

His silence was scarier than any words he might’ve said.

I sat down, waiting for him to say something, knowing that if he was being so silent, he expected me to be as well. He looked down at my cocoa, and I picked it up, sipped it slowly, and watched him over the rim.

“I’m…I’m sorry.” I couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“I know you are.” He reached out in front of him, and suddenly there was a book in his hand. Every one of us knew that he was filled with magic we didn’t understand, but he wasn’t a show-off. I flinched, the book’s appearance startling me. He set it down, opened it, and tapped on some words.

I placed my mug on the table and leaned over to read them. My mind was unable to process a single word, the letters a blur. Then my stomach clenched as I recognized the symbol at the bottom of the page. This wasn’t just any book. It was a book of our laws up here in the North Pole. I’d learned about it in school and assumed I’d never see one since I wasn’t in a career having anything to do with it.

I was wrong.

After too many minutes of me staring, Santa read the words to me, and I fully understood the gravity of my situation for the first time. I hadn’t only messed up and cost elves their cookies. Nope, I had gone and broken a major law—not because I intentionally tried to hurt Santa or because I messed up the cookies but because Santa had eaten inedible sweets that I provided him.

Sugar balls!

“I’m sorry, Aster. There is no choice in a situation like this. My hands are bound in licorice whips.” There was nothing jolly about him right now. “You know the consequence, right?”




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