The Nutcracker Princess

The Nutcracker Princess: Chapter 5

Chapter Five

The Snowman Wears Prada

"Santa...as in the portly, jolly old man who delivers presents?" I questioned cautiously, still holding aloft my stick like some kind of pyjama wearing D'artagnan.

"Yeah, babe. The very same."

I relaxed my stance slightly.

"You mean he's real...really real?" Could it be the night I'd met Santa wasn't just a figment of my childhood imagination? My hands closed around my snowflake pendant.

Was my necklace actually a gift from St. Nick himself?

"Of course. Who do you think makes Christmas run do smoothly otherwise? Parents?"

"Er, yeah?"

Shaking his head, the snowman clicked his fingers. "Oh no, they just think they do all the work. The big guy makes sure the good kids get what's on their wish lists and the brats learn their lesson. A sprinkle of magic here and there and the non-believers are none the wiser."

I stared dumbfounded at the debonair snowman; this was perhaps the most mind-blowingingly genius thing ever- Magic? Talking snowmen? Santa?

I pinched myself to check I wasn't just in an eggnog-induced dream.

Ouch, this was actually happening.

"Um, I'm sorry I threatened you with chickpea dip earlier, can we start over?" His answer was a toothy grin and a sharp bow.

"Sure thing" He offered forth his icy hand which I shook swiftly, wiping my soggy hands on my PJ bottoms. "Phoebus T Sparkle, at your service."

I muffled a laugh with my dry hand. "Impressive name, I'm Holly Palmer." Hmm, maybe I should add a T in there somewhere?

"Fabulous to meet you, Holly. Now, we really should talk business."

Phoebus gestured to a nearby log, where I obediently took a seat, shivering as the damp seeped through my dressing gown. As if reading my mind, Mr Sparkle clicked his snowy fingers and a fire burst into life a few feet away.

"Oh, that is, ace..." A worrying thought crossed my mind. "Wait, you're not going to meltor anything are you?"

The snowman let out a devilish cackle. "No worries, Hun. I'm an enchanted snowman. You could toss me into a volcano if you wanted and I wouldn't defrost in the slightest."

"Ah, but it would wreck your stylish top hat."

Phoebus clapped his hands together in glee. "A girl with taste! You don't know how hard it is to find somebody chic in the Arctic Circle; it's all bobble-hats and bell-topped shoes with them." I giggled, picturing him storming around the North Pole like a vegetable-nosed Carson Kressley. "Anyhoo, the bossneeds you to do him a favour."

"The Boss? What does Bruce Springsteen need my help for?" I managed to ask, completely deadpan. Phoebus rolled his coal eyes at me.

"Hah, couldn't resist. What does Santa want me to do?" My mind was busy conjuring up a variety of possibilities. Wrestle a polar bear? Decorate a fifty foot Christmas tree? Fly the sleigh? Oh man, whatever it was, it was going to be kick-ass!

"He needs you to keep an eye on his son."

Hold the phone...Santa had a son?

"Excuse me-His son?"

"Yep, since he got thrown out of Yule Academy, the chief thought maybe a human school would sort him out, so he sent him here. You may of met him already, he's called-" Oh no. He couldn't possibly be talking about... "Noel."

Where was a Christmas miracle when you needed one?