Advent Letters: Year Six, Letter Four

As the gnomes removed the wyvern from the chariot and asked—yet again—if Matt was sure he wanted the older dolphin, the snake-rider and the dog-headed chariots were already skipping across the surface of the ocean. Matt said he was sure, and grabbed the reins. The older dolphin, once harnessed, looked ahead not with the fiery frenzy of the prior two creatures, but rather with something like expectation. Matt told himself this was a good thing.

“Suit yourself,” the gnome pit crew leader said. “Your air bubble is this buttom below the goggles.” 

Before Matt could ask what they meant, the crew was urging his dolphin forward. Soon, the boys and their chariot were skipping across the surface of the Faerie sea like a jet ski, white foam flowing out behind them.

By this time, the dog-headed team and the snake team were far enough ahead of them that Brian couldn’t extend his hammer enough to hit them without sending the whole chariot off kilter. Jer kept firing arrows precisely at the two other chariots, but they were so far away that the other drivers were able to get a good read on their approach and block them with their shields. There was nothing to do but catch the other chariots as they all went careening toward the horizon.

That’s what Matt tried to do: goading his dolphin as much as he dared, and trying to pick as smooth a line as free of waves as he could. But as he did this, two concerns kept nagging at him. First, it seemed like, despite all his efforts, the other two chariots were widening their lead on his older, slower dolphin. Second, the gnomes had told him to turn downward at the glowing pool in the water. He wondered what that meant, as well as the air bubble button by the goggles.

As he was thinking this, the outline of the serpent chariot suddenly vanished between the waves. A few moments later, the dog-headed chariot did the same thing. Matt was trying to piece this together in his mind when he noticed the rippling bubbles from both chariots at a swirling circle in the sea. Then it all came together.

“Air bubble buttons!” he shouted. “Hit them now!”

All three brothers fumbled at their goggles, hitting the button just before Matt’s dolphin plunged beneath the waves. The chariot was now racing several meters beneath the clear turquoise Faerie sea. The buttons had caused a clear crystal bubble to wrap around each of the boy’s heads, pumping in air to breath and keeping their view of the Faerie sea clear. Up ahead, the dog-headed chariot and serpent were still opening up their lead, and just about to enter the cave.

Matt guided the dolphin along toward it as well, hoping that he hadn’t already doomed the race by choosing the older dolphin.

Several mer-sentries stood guard outside the cave, gesturing with their coral tridents for the chariot to enter the dark mouth of the cave. Out of a crude sense of politeness, Matt nodded at the sentries as he went. The sentries, with their blue skin and broad mer-men chests turned dappled by the rippling waters above them, returned a grim nod. Matt gulped as they entered the cave.

Inside, the only lights were from bioluminescent algae, and a few Faerie angler fish—just like regular angler fish on earth, only twice the size. Matt fought the urge to slow down in the glowing green almost-dark, knowing that every moment was precious. The dolphin seemed to sense Matt’s urgency, taking the paths and cave tunnels like it knew where to go without Matt.

This, finally, seemed to gain some ground, and the chariot entered the cave’s main chamber of the cave. At the center, a mermaid stood sentry over three elaborately-carved statues made of a coral that changed colors with each change in position or shift of light. The prize which each charioteer had to bring back to the finish line. Matt thought the statue was the most mesmerizing thing he’d ever seen, and went to grab it nearly in a trance, hardly noticing the siren smile of the mermaid.

“Look out!” Jer shouted. Though the shout was muffled behind the air bubble and the press of sea water, it was enough to jar Matt back to the present.

The serpent chariot, having just picked up its own statue, was swinging their club at Matt. The club was inches from Matt’s head when Jer blocked it with his bow. Bri came in swiftly after with a massive blow from his hammer. In the instant before the war hammer connected with the serpent’s chariot, Matt could almost see the regret in its yellow green eyes. But it was too late by that point, and Bri’s hammer shattered the chariot to pieces.

The race was now down to the Mellemas and the dog-headed chariot. And the dog-headed chariot had just left the cave’s main chamber.

“Hold on!” Matt shouted. He grabbed the statue from the mermaid, and fought the urge to stare at it. Then he goaded the dolphin with all his strength, not caring a wit that he was careening at full speed down dark narrow tunnels.

When the brothers’ chariot emerged back into the open sea, the dog-headed chariot was still in the lead. The lead was long enough so that Brian couldn’t reach them with his outstretch hammer. And because they were under water, Jer’s bow and arrows were useless. There was nothing to do but track them down. Matt narrowed his eyes and kept with the reins. But even as he did, and even as he could feel the dolphin swimming with all his might, it was no use. The dog-headed chariot was going faster. 

Matt had picked the wrong dolphin. They were going to lose, and it was all his fault. Even as he was telling himself this, his dolphin did something odd. It made a sudden maneuver to the right, straining in that direction with all his might. Matt’s first response was to pull the dolphin back to the direct route, and grumble at it for going off course. Then he remembered his reason for selecting this dolphin in the first place.

“All right,” Matt said. “Let’s do this, dolphin.” He guided the dolphin off to the right. After a few strokes of the dolphin’s tail, Matt understood why. They were headed toward an underwater current. No sooner had the dolphin lead them in then the chariot seemed to shoot out with twice their speed. The brothers held on tight as the chariot went shooting forward, causing a boiling wake of white foam behind them.

As Matt sighted the finish line up ahead, their chariot was coming up on the dog-headed chariot. Then, in just as sudden a move, the dolphin moved to hop out of the current. This time, Matt anticipated what the dolphin was thinking, and lead him along. The Mellema’s chariot cut off the dog-headed chariot at an angle, forcing the dog-headed chariot to veer away just as the Mellema’s reached the finish line.

The chariot sprang above the surface as it crossed the finish line, water crystals spraying from the dolphin and the boys all shouting with unexpected fortune.

The race was over, and the Mellema’s gnome chariot had won.

“Good job, buddy,” Matt said to the dolphin, giving it an affectionate pat on the neck.

That evening, the Mellemas agreed to join the gnomes for a celebration feast in their village. The feast itself was heavier on mushrooms than the boys would have preferred, but it was still tasty.

As they were eating, Gnome Leader came back from his meeting with the serpent leader, and was triumphant. The serpent leader was furious, and looked like he would have rather eaten Leader clean up than accepted the money, Leader said.

“But it was a Fae contract, so there was nothing they could do,” the leader said, beaming. “I was making an offer of payment, which meant the serpents were bound by Faerie law to accept it, and agree to its terms. Which means…” the leader led out this last part with an extra twinkle in his eye. “Our village is free from serpent oppression from this day forward!

The gnomes all cheered and clinked their goblets, and the Mellemas joined suit. Matt, once again, looked down at his chrome-illusioned statue, which the race organizers had let him keep as a memento. He would keep this forever, he told himself.

But even as the brothers were eating and drinking and singing and (in Jer and Bri’s case) dancing, they all kept looking at each other with a look of knowing concern. Over the hills across the ocean, the red clouds and ash of the Krampus Isle were rising, partially blocking the stars and clouding over the boys’ hearts as well.

Even now, the gnomes were telling the boys how they had prepared their submersible, and were ready to set sail at first light. But the gnome captain who said this, despite his best show, clearly had a paler than normal face and shakier than usual hands. The same reaction as the dog-headed drivers of the chariot. It turned out that they were better sports than the Mellemas had taken them for, and came instantly over to the Mellemas after the race to congratulate them.

Though the Mellemas only spoke rudimentary dog, they could get one thing for certain. The dog-headed drivers—who had just braved a chariot race dangerous beyond all reason—were begging the Mellemas not to go to Krampus Island.

The Mellemas thanked the dog-headed drivers for their advice, but said they didn’t have a choice. The drivers nodded sadly and went away with their ears folded back.

“You really think we can do this?” Matt said. “I just feel like we need to be more—”

“Like you snot-nosed kids need to be men rather than thin-wristed little boys? I agree, but there’s nothing we can do about it now.”

Matt’s eyes widened at the familiar voice, and the familiar sort of insult. Out of the shadows stepped Ratatosk, the squirrel messenger of the North Pole.

“Ratatosk!” Brian exclaimed, rising to his feet. “What are you doing here?”

“Sent by Santa Clause himself,” Ratatosk said. “For reasons I can’t begin to imagine, he thinks you lot are worth saving.”

Jer and Bri laughed, while Matt crossed his arms.

“Are you coming with us to Krampus Isle?” Jer asked.

“Can’t,” Ratatosk said. “You boys have to do this on your own. Santa’s clear on that. Just look at all the progress you’ve made on your marks—you’d never have done that if we North Polians had done everything for you.”

The boys all looked down at their arms. The marks had indeed faded, various strands and lines had seemed to disappear together. 

“Then why are you here?” Matt asked, more hostile than he’d meant.

“Your oily face must be making you grumpy, so I’ll let that slide this time,” Ratatosk said. “I’m here because Santa has gifts for you.”

The boys all perked up, stepping toward Ratatosk.

“Yeah,” the squirrel went on, “He’s been wanting to send these tow you for some time, but we weren’t sure exactly where you were. But luckily, one of these gnomes sent the North Pole a message about three humans who were going to join some crazy race. I guess his cousin is Kanute? Anyway, that could only be you three, so Santa sent me with these.”

Ratatosk undid a knapsack which was around his back, and handed a small wooden chest to each of the Mellema brothers.

Each chest was a shining jewelled gleam—Matt’s was blue, Jer’s was green, and Bri’s was red. But as each boy started to open the chest, Ratatosk stopped them.

“Not yet—not until you know that you need it.”

“How will we know when that is?” Jer asked.

“You will. Has Santa steered you wrong yet?” Ratatosk shot them a wink, and put the knapsack back on his back. “Hey, good luck you kids. I have to say, I never thought you’d make it this far. Especially the gangly one.” He shot a smirk over to Matt, and Jer and Bri both laughed. “But we’re pulling for you. All of us.”

And with that, Ratatosk leaped back into the forest, and was soon gone.

As the gnomes kept up their dancing and their song, the Mellemas looked at each other, then looked down at their gifts. Maybe, just maybe, they’d been given what they needed.