Secret Places and Hidden Things

Chapter Nineteen

The helm was cool and dark, with a blue gray-sun lingering on the edge of the horizon and snowflakes lazily drifting by outside. Jack had been sitting on one of the long benches under the windows, watching the snow accumulate. Small strings of lights had appeared on all the eaves, and softly flickering candle tapers were burning in holly bunches under each sill. His clothing had all changed, as well, with small bells sewn into the seams. Everywhere he walked, a soft, silvery jingle would follow him.

The fox had been sitting with him earlier, but had disappeared on some unknown errand a while ago. As he watched the snow sparkle on the trees down the hill, they suddenly lit up with colorful lights, slowly fading in and out like fireflies.

A soft clicking announced the return of the fox. Michael was with him.

"Oh, hello Jack," he said, "I'm going to see Elliot. I think all of this is his doing. It hasn't been Christmas at the helm for a long while."

"Did he decorate?" Jack asked.

"No, he just brought it with him. It's always Christmas at least once when he comes."

Jack followed Michael down a long corridor with a red and gold carpet. The helm had that muffled quiet that a lot of snow brings. The niches on the wall glittered mysteriously. Jack was reminded of his first night. They came to a long curving staircase, and the banisters were wrapped in garlands of pine boughs tied up with red ribbon and gold wire.

"This looks like Wynne's tower," Jack said.

"It could be," Michael responded, "I think things have come closer together."

Michael stopped at a doorway a few flights up and knocked. The fox didn't wait, clawing the door open and snaking inside. "Sorry," Michael said, "were you sleeping?"

"Oh, no, no." Elliot's voice drifted down from the bed hanging on the wall. "I was just thinking. You know I don't sleep when I come here, Michael."

Michael trotted across the room and started climbing up the ladder to the bed. "Come on Jack," he said, laughing. "There's plenty of room for all of us."

Jack climbed up behind him, and as he did, the floor of the tower appeared to move further and further away. Each step up the ladder felt like stretching and shrinking at the same time. When he got to the top, the short climb appeared to be a vast distance, with the floor barely visible below.

The bed itself was another marvel. What had looked like a small cot hanging precariously off the wall had become a room-sized den with a soft, pillowy floor, a massive nest of blankets, a fully decorated Christmas tree, and a magnificent view of the valley below. The lights had spread over much of the forest. There was even an old cast-iron woodstove cracking away in the corner.

"How did this happen?" Jack asked.

"I'm not sure," Elliot said. "The bed was always a part of my room, and I never even came up here the first few times I visited the helm. Imagine my surprise when I finally did!"

From far below came the sound of metallic scratching. With a bark, the fox came barreling over the edge of the bed-room, its limbs flailing madly.

Michael laughed. "Ladders aren't made for foxes, silly."

The fox jumped up on his shoulders, its tail flipping back and forth. Then it bounced over to the window, attracted by the fading lights as they moved around the frame. A shadowy figure passed by, and the fox started sniffing.

"If it's Christmas Eve, that must mean I'm about halfway through," Elliot said.

"Maybe, maybe not," Michael said. "Did you make me anything?"