Slay

You Better Watch Out

Ivy hurried into the Claus's living room. "Where are we going?"

"We're going to rescue Santa. And if we can't - Well, we're going to rescue him."

"But, ma'am! We need more information! It's no good running halfway around the world if we don't know who we're looking for, ma'am!"

Mrs Claus paused, turning around with her knitting bag in her hands. "You're right," she concluded. "Where is everyone?"

"The last time I saw them, they were in Mission Control."

She acknowledged this by straightening up and marching out of the living room. Ivy followed her, scurrying to keep up, down passages where cold fluorescent light glinted off decorative strands of tinsel, dancing on the walls. Buildings at the North Pole had to be built primarily for practicality; the cheeriness was slapped on afterwards. They walked - or, in Ivy's case, jogged - in silence until they reached Mission Control.

The room was still packed with elves. Mrs Claus dismissed half of them with a wave of her hand. "Why is everyone here? I know this is stressful, but standing round here won't help. Let's have the commanders stay, and Merry, could you please organize getting everyone else back to their regular jobs? Or you can wait in the Workshop, if you'd rather. Don't worry, we'll keep you updated." She headed over to the seat in front of the screen controls. "Could I use this? Thank you, dear."

She played the video, watching intently. When it was over, she replayed it. A few seconds in, she slammed the pause button.

"There!" She zoomed in still further, aiming for the house's front garden. A figure was clearly visible in the grainy image. Mrs Claus replayed the video, this time focused on the garden and the small figure running out of the house through it. A few moments later, the first explosion sounded.

"That's the person who set it off. That's our culprit." She dispatched a quick screenshot and a copy of the video clip to one of the other elves in the control room. "Run this through our facial recognition systems, would you?" 

The elf nodded. Mrs Claus opened up a new window and video-called Berry, the elf who had been in charge of the sleigh. The phone rang for a long minute, then went to voicemail; a few moments later, the screen showed 'Incoming Call' from Elf 72. Mrs Claus accepted it.

Noel's face appeared on the screen. He seemed to be standing on the sidewalk near the demolished house. Sirens and traffic noise made up the background noise. "Hi," he said. "What's up?"

Mrs Claus got straight to the point. "We have a suspect who may have set off the explosions. Is Berry there?"

"Hey, Berry!" Noel called. He turned back to the camera. "He's checking out the house, or what's left of it."

"That's Captain! We are still on a mission!" came Berry's familiar tones. A moment later, he appeared in the video.

"We have a suspect. Someone caught on the video clip," said Mrs Claus. "I've sent you the cropped clip and screenshots. Have a look at them, we'll need you to keep a lookout for the suspect."

There was a short delay while they examined the pictures.

"Well this shouldn't be too hard," said Noel. "All we have to do is look out for a blur. Hah, there can't be many walking blurs in Durban, we'll spot them in no time!"

Mrs Claus sighed. "What's the situation down there? Have you got any updates on 13 Shell Avenue?"

"It was intentionally demolished with explosives, ma'am!"

She glanced momentarily towards the heavens. "Any new updates?"

"The whole thing was set up in advance, ma'am. The explosives were perfectly placed to make the walls implode. Someone put a fuse leading from the walls to the back garden, and that lit some pitch spread into the shape of a bird. It was planned, ma'am."

"Thank you. Any leads on Santa?"

"His GPS stopped sending signals after the explosions, ma'am!"

"Are - is there any sign of - did anyone die?"

"As far as we know, no, ma'am," said Berry, "But we, uh, we haven't exactly been able to inspect it. The police are here, you see, ma'am."

"Human police?"

"Yes, ma'am! We couldn't show ourselves to them. They've taped off the area. This will be all over the news tomorrow, I'd bet you anything!"

"There might be more than this on the news if we don't catch our mystery... kidnapper." Her voice was controlled, but grim.

Berry and Noel looked confused. "Sorry, ma'am?"

Mrs Claus explained about the ransom note. The claim that Santa was dead. The three-hour deadline to hand over the magic. The threat of total exposure. The signature: Robyn.

"We've got two hours or so to catch this girl, unless we want to be exposed, because I'm sure as hell not handing her our magic on a plate!"

"Wow." Noel raised his eyebrows. "Kidnapping Santa, blowing up a building... What a little angel! She'll be on the Naughty List for sure."

Mrs Claus's eyes, sparkling blue and set deep in wrinkled skin, widened. "That's it! Eve, could you run and fetch me the Naughty List, dear?"

Eve scurried away. A few minutes later, she returned, clutching a book almost as large as she was.

"Volume One of the Naughty List. Here you go!"

Mrs Claus opened the book hastily, paying no attention to the worn leather cover inlaid with gold words which spelt out 'Naughty List'. Although most of the Toy Factory relied on modern technology, magic and electricity went together about as well as water and sodium, dynamite and flame. Even Santa's sleigh was a disaster waiting to happen. The Naughty and Nice Lists, however, were magic in one of its rawest arcane forms. Trying to digitize them would be like juggling flaming chainsaws. In a piranha pit. In Chernobyl.

She leafed through the yellowing pages, carefully checking every name in its dark calligraphy. One page for each name. Occasionally, she withdrew a small notebook from her skirt pocket and made notes.

The assembled elves shuffled restlessly. On the main screen, Berry stifled a yawn.  Noel didn't even bother to hide his boredom. 

"Can we end the call now, ma'am?"

Mrs Claus barely glanced up from her page-flipping. "Sure, sure. I'll call you back. Just stay put, okay? See if you can gather any information. I might need reinforcements."

"Reinforcements?" queried Noel.

Mrs Claus sucked in a breath through clenched teeth. When she spoke, her voice was colder than the North Pole's average weather. "This - person - kidnapped my husband. If we're going to catch her - when we catch her - I want to do it myself."

She closed the Naughty List, pocketing her notebook. "Ivy, Eiden, could you come with me? Harness the reindeer to one of the backup sleighs. A fast one."