HEART OF ICE

CHAPTER 18

Was I almost too late again? Am I really the right person for this role? How did he do it? How did my father do it? Was he happy? Was there joy before my mother? I am not him. I'm not even sure how to be him.

Alejandra's thoughts circled her mind again and again. They kept her from letting go of the frustration bubbling inside of her. That morning, too large a part of her spirit felt like a failure. She stood quietly in the cold breeze sweeping across the campus of Trinity High School. The events of the day before, that Christopher and Moe had described, had weighed on her conscience almost immediately. She and Silas has stayed away too long. Alejandra realized that wasn't quite right. She had stayed away too long.

Alejandra de Rosa was the protector of Santa Claus. It was a role her father, Galan the Great, once held in an era long past and in a lifetime Alejandra was just barely beginning to truly learn about. That was one reason she had wanted to stay away for as long as they had. Alejandra had to admit to herself that was hardly the only reason. As the weeks had gone by, it had stopped being the main reason.

It was the young Claus himself that had calmed her down once that morning. She had stayed at Christopher's side from the moment they had left his doorstep, to the edge of Moe's school, and then onto the grounds of the high school. It had been the walk between the two campuses where Christopher was sleepily lost in thought. Alejandra had tried to apologize for not being around in time to help the day before. Christopher only smiled and shook his head at her. He had told her not to feel upset as he walked away toward the doors of the school. He wasn't mad and had known she'd be back before things got really bad.

Her frustration had only gone away a little after that. She used it, then, as best she could. It was keeping her on edge and alert. It kept her focused on where she was instead of where she thought she wanted to be. Alejandra leaned casually against the rough trunk of one of the towering old oak trees on the school's side lawn. She listened to the scattered pieces of conversation from the groups of students that passed by. For the most part, her presence was completely ignored by the arriving teens. Alejandra noticed a few girls and one boy randomly glimpse her way once and then again a second time. The girls whispered to each other, their hushed words spoken too far away for Alejandra to hear. The boy had been by himself. He looked at her curiously. She was a stranger to him. She probably looked as out of place there as she felt. This wasn't her school. These weren't her friends. There was nothing else in his expression that made her suspicious of him. That wasn't the case for another boy she saw from that spot in the dry, yellow grass under the leafless branches of the old trees.

Alejandra couldn't remember every detail of the bully named Chase and his company of ill-tempered cohorts she'd encountered with Christopher and the others. But she'd know them if she saw them. She doubted she would. Given their new-found place amongst Legion, why would the trouble-causing teens feel the need to show up for school? So she knew, as she spent the day making sure no strange vans appeared around the campus or, worse, more sinister agents of the dark army didn't try to strike at Christopher during his classes, she didn't have to waste time trying to spot one familiar teenager in a sea of them she didn't know at all.

But what about those he had influenced? Alejandra thought about the handful of the dangerously moronic followers of Chase Paul Briar. Alejandra remembered the way they sounded and the way they had acted. They weren't friends of his at all. They were souls blindly devoted to the slender youth who represented power to their misguided minds. Alejandra imagined there had to be more that hadn't been pulled into Legion's ranks. At least, not yet. Maybe they were still around and maybe they'd be looking for their leader.

She turned her head quickly in the direction of the music building, past the end of the lawn where Alejandra stood. A boy about her age kicked open the door at the top of a shallow, concrete ramp that ascended from the sidewalk. The metal frame around the dense, glass pane clanged and rattled loudly. Alejandra's attention was not the only one captured by the noise. She narrowed her eyes, watching the boy closely. A teacher had followed the furious youth onto the cold ramp. The student was as tall as his instructor, though much younger. He did his best to avoid looking at the man with thin, brown hair and soft, pink skin. The teacher pointed sternly toward the building, then at the angry teen. Alejandra couldn't hear the words being so hotly spoken, but she could hear-and sense-the tone. There was also something in the teacher's eyes. Behind a pair of small, round-framed glasses that would glint in the sunlight every few seconds, Alejandra saw eyes that were more than just filled with anger at a student. She saw sadness.