Candy Canes and Buckets of Blood by Heide Goody & Iain Grant

Author:Heide Goody & Iain Grant [Goody, Heide & Grant, Iain]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 0993365531
Publisher: Pigeon Park Press
Published: 2019-09-20T23:00:00+00:00

51

The zomdeer or Frankenstein’s reindeer or whatever it was, reared and bucked in its dirty little pen. Elves were unpacking bales, boxes and bags from the other trucks. Newton supposed they were meant to be important goods and materials for the elves but, for the most part, looked like the leanest pickings off a rubbish heap. Regardless, the elves’ industry meant Newton and Guin were left standing alone for a while. Newton looked along the track they’d come down. There was a long high tunnel, but no suggestion of an exit apart from a quartet of elves standing on guard near the rear of the train, holding knives and larger billhook-type blades.

He looked down at Guin. Her pale little face looked even paler in this gloomy light. There was a concerned, distant look on her face. “Don’t worry,” he said, dropping into his default carer mode. “I’ll look after you.”

Guin looked at him. “What?”

“I said I’ll look after you. Don’t be afraid.”

“I’m not afraid.”

“Yeah,” he said. “I’m just saying if—”

“Yes, but I’m not,” she said with quiet certainty. “I was thinking, why do elves need reindeer?”

The patchwork reindeer thing rolled its shrivelled eyes and stamped its hoofs.

“Reindeer are cute,” said Newton.

“That one isn’t.”

“We just haven’t got to know her yet.”

“Her?”

“Only female reindeer have antlers in winter.”

“Those antlers are bolted on.”

“We haven’t got to know it yet,” said Newton. Emboldened by his need to show Newton Woollby loved all animals, cute and ugly, he edged towards the reindeer. The creature blinked and angled its head as though trying to focus its clearly useless eyes on him.

“Hey, Blinky,” he sang softly, holding out the flat of his hand to her muzzle as he slowly approached. “I could make friends with any of the horses at the stables,” he told Guin.

“That is not a horse,” said Guin. “It barely qualifies as an animal.”

“She just needs to be shown a little love. Maybe she’s feeling out of sorts. Hey, what do reindeer take when they’ve got a stomach ache.”

“A joke? At this time?”

“Elk-a-seltzer!” Newton grinned.

Guin did not crack a smile, not even a fake one.

“You like my jokes,” Newton simpered to Blinky. “ You do, don’t you? Don’t you, you lovely little—”

The reindeer jerked forward and snapped at Newton’s hand. He snatched it back barely in time before hard, yellow zombie teeth clacked together on the space where his fingers had just been.

“Bad reindeer!” he gasped in alarm. “Naughty Blinky!”

“I was saying—” said Guin, “—why do elves need reindeer? They’re not native to this country and—”

Whatever Guin was about to say went unsaid as the nearest elf, having finished overseeing the unloading of the train, barked an order at them and waved his knife. “Takka pokjót, ljóður mað!” The elf gestured viciously at a bulging sack.

Newton looked at Guin, perplexed.

“I think he wants you to carry it,” she said.

“You understand elf now?”

“I’m going by context.” She pointed at the sack. “Takka pokjót?”

The elf waved its knife encouragingly.

Newton bent and tried lifting the sack. Whatever was in it was too heavy for him to lift.

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