Page 2 of Sugar Plum Fae
"Any suggestions?"
"Perhaps a visit from Krampus is in order." Roderick wiggled his fingers, and a distant jingle of bells froze everyone on the street before they scattered back into their homes. He snapped his fingers, and Ben knew some of the houses would have a small bundle of twigs waiting for them.
He chuckled. "Somehow I knew you'd suggest a bit of well-meaning terror."
“It keeps things interesting.”
"Interesting isn't quite the word I'd use for your antics," Ben remarked, leading them away from the window. "More like...nightmarish."
"Finally, recognition for my hard work," Roderick deadpanned, yet there was a spark of pride behind his stoic expression. "I must go. I will see you soon."
“Leave the sack at home,” Ben called out, but he didn’t receive an answer.
Later that evening, Ben stepped out onto the snow-dusted streets of Whitlock. The town square was back to being a flurry of activity with Yule preparations underway, but something still felt off. He watched as a group of werewolves strung up garlands with less howl and more sigh than normal, their usual exuberance dulled.
A banshee wailed softly as she hung wreaths on lamp posts, her lament not for lost souls but rather for the missing cheer that seemed to haunt the town. Even the goblins, known for their raucous laughter, were subdued, their chuckles muffled under woolen scarves as they shuffled past with boxes of ornaments.
Ben meandered through the streets, his gaze sweeping over his people. It wasn't just the cold that nipped at the edges of the town. It was a drudging shuffle that seemed to have taken root in the once vibrant supernatural community. They all looked like zombies—even the ones who weren’t.
And then there was Zenaida. She bustled through the crowd, a whirlwind of energy and smiles, her dark hair flowing behind her like a banner of defiance against the dreary mood. Her grating cackle cut through the muted murmurs of the townsfolk, and she danced around a frost giant with the grace of a leaf on the wind.
"Good evening, Mayor!" she sang out, twirling past him with a basket full of mistletoe and holly.
"Zenaida," Ben acknowledged, his eyes narrowing slightly. Why was she so unaffected when the rest of them weren't? What did she know that they didn't? Something was brewing in her cauldron, and that didn’t bode well for anyone.
Chapter One
Candace
Candace Juniper twirled playfully among the candy trees, her laughter ringing through the faery Kingdom of Sweets and Dreams like the tinkling of a thousand tiny bells. Her golden curls bounced around her face as she danced between the frosted branches, her feet barely touching the ground. As a sunsidhe fae, Candace exuded an aura of pure joy.
"Lady Candace," a young gingerbread boy called out to her, his gumdrop eyes beseeching.
"Hello there, sweetie." Candace crouched down beside him. "What can I do for you today?"
"Can you make it snow powdered sugar again?" A hopeful smile spread across his icing lips.
"Of course." She wiggled her fingers, and a soft flurry of powdered sugar began to form a confectionary snowstorm.
"Thank you!" The gingerbread boy ran off to join his friends.
Candace rose to her feet, a fond smile curving her lips as she watched the children play. She glided through her land, checking on each inhabitant and offering words of encouragement. Approaching a young snow fae who was struggling to finish her dance routine, Candace gently guided her through the steps. As she watched the girl's face light up with pride, Candace knew this was why she had become the protector and nurturer of her people: to help them achieve their dreams.
As she wandered deeper into her realm, Candace paused by a grove of peppermint trees, their crimson and white stripes giving off a scent of crisp happiness. Closing her eyes, she let hersenses expand, taking in the dreams of the people throughout the mortal realms as well.
"Lady Candace, when will you be visiting other realms during the Yuletide season?" a curious candy fae asked, her gossamer wings shimmering with iridescent colors as she flitted closer.
"Soon.” It wasn’t yet Yule, and she was still preparing to bring them the best dreams she could to make hope and joy last through the new year.
"Even to the humans in Whitlock?" another candy fae chimed in, her tone frightened.
"Why? What’s going in in Whitlock?” Candace asked.
But the candy faes twittered away without answering her.
Whitlock was a small town in Connecticut, hidden from mundane humans. It was a town of supernatural creatures run by a vampire mayor. And the territory was well within the moonsidhe realm.
Closing her eyes again, she focused her power on the people of Whitlock. She didn’t like what she sensed in their dreams—nightmares, rather. She needed to investigate further. Singling out a farmer, she entered into his dream of planting crops. But it was a volatile mix of both dream and nightmare. One moment, he had enough to feed his family through the winter. The next, the crops withered on the vine and rotted in the field faster than he could harvest them.