Following Albyrne was slow going. The aged leprechaun took small, careful steps over the snow-encrusted cobbles, pressing down on his shillelagh with each step. Counter-intuitively, it made it more difficult to keep pace behind him. Yes, there was no danger of Lacey losing track of him, but he moved so slow it was hard for Lacey to look natural as she followed.

  On top of that, she was the current village curiosity. She was acutely aware of being watched. A shopkeeper, dusting his entrance steps, slowly swivelled; following her progress as he swept. She felt his eyes on her back long after she had passed. An old lady, walking her cat, paused and smiled at her. Lacey nodded a greeting in return. The puffy, white cat gave her a piercing look, like it knew exactly what she was up to, the little bell on its collar jingling as it passed. It’s a good thing she didn’t need to go unnoticed, because then her pursuit would’ve failed within the first block. It was fine, as long as Albyrne didn’t notice.

  One by one, the street lamps came on as dusk began to settle gently over the village. As the sun sank, Lacey felt the cold gradually creeping in. She pulled her scarf tighter. He kept moving, strolling out past Mathilda’s Healing Hall to the very edge of the village where the snow-enchantment fields stretched out into the shadows of the coming night.

  As they moved further from the village centre, the little lanes emptied out more and more until Albyrne and Lacey were the only ones out. Lacey fell behind a bit more, feeling uncomfortably visible. With the new distance between them, she almost missed him entering a small cottage. Luckily, she was just in time to see the door swing shut as he tapped his way inside. Noting the location, she slowly strolled past, taking a turn further away before doubling back.

  Walking back, she couldn’t help but wonder what she thought she was going to achieve. Break the door down and rescue Jinxy, if she saw her? Knock on his door for a chat? Snoop outside, seeing if there was a cellar or a freestanding shed – a space where Jinxy might be held?

  The cottage location, however, was a problem. The village lay flat where it stood, with level white snowfields spreading from the back. There really wasn’t any good natural cover for a snooper. And, she realised, she was not prepared to speak to him directly yet.

  She made another lap around the lane, silently cursing the streetlamps that were so much more efficient than they had any right to be. Probably magic. No trees, no convenient carts sitting about, not even a boundary hedge. Just flat open space. And just enough curious neighbours to wonder what the strange girl from Aurora might be up to, wandering up and down the lane.

  She broke off, pretending to head towards the Healing Hall. It stuck out over the rest of the cosy cottages, being slightly larger and taller. By now everyone knew she was staying with Mathilda. If she went to the hall, it would just look like she was meeting up with her. But it didn’t solve her problem of how to at least get eyes on Albyrne’s cottage. Then she could observe from a distance a bit, see if there was anything out of place.

  Wait. Lacey paused, a grin spreading over her face. If she could get onto the Healing Hall’s roof… She hurried towards it, then slowed to circle around. However, the building had a very unfortunate design. Unsatisfactorily placed windows, no convenient tall trees, and sheer walls devoid of climbing ivy.

  There was a stack of firewood, though, placed against the wall at the back, under a small overhanging roof. She eyed it. Piled compactly, it rose up from the wooden pallets separating it from the ground to almost the height of the roof. Whoever packed it had a Tetris-player’s precision. She did wonder, though, how Mathilda reached the top logs.

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  Lacey frowned. If she could get onto the little lean-to roof, climbing onto the hall roof from there would be easy. The problem was that the stacked logs were neatly sequestered underneath the little overhang, just slightly too far inside for an easy climb up to the lean-to’s roof. Perhaps she could scale one side, using the spaces between the logs for toeholds. Then, she’d just have to reach out a little bit backwards, and crawl over the rim like a slug. She could probably do that.

  Pulling off her gloves for better grip, she approached the stack under the lean-to. Reaching up, she dug her fingers into the first space between the logs above her head, feeling the moist bark crumble beneath her fingers. It smelt of pine and wild forest air. Stepping up she immediately felt a problem. The toe of her boot was too thick and stiff to fit into the small hollows. Not even the little bit she needed for a toe hold. She stepped back onto the ground, her foot crunching back into the footprint it had left.

  Plan B. Maybe she could jump, grab the rim, and then walk her feet up the side of the log stack to give her enough push to scoot over the rim? She rocked down on her knees, ready to jump. With her movement, a shimmer of light hit the silver metal at the edge of the overhang. Lacey aborted, almost falling over as she stopped herself just in time. She had no intention of having her fingers freeze onto the metal – she’d be hanging here till morning. She pulled her gloves back on.

  Jumping up, she grabbed hold of the edge. The shed groaned ominously as her feet scrabbled to find purchase on the logs. She could feel the whole structure swaying ever so slightly under her weight. The roof rim released a spooky creak, slowly sagging.

  Its precarious balance upset, the collected snow on the little roof began to slide, plopping pieces down on Lacey. Alarmed, she let go and fell to the ground, but it was too late. The avalanche had already started. The roof neatly dumped its load of snow onto her, and then, with both the weight of Lacey and the snow gone, straightened itself and settled back into its original shape. The cold hit the back of her head where hat met scarf, sending goosebumps skittering down her arms.

  Standing there, in a snow-covered mound, Lacey shook the snow off. Now she was damp all over, the residue melting on her skin and running down into her scarf. Great. I might as well go snowboarding next. At least I’ll be wearing the right gear. She dusted herself off as well as she could, shaking out the ends of her scarf before cinching it close and partially covering her face. It was going to be a cold night up on that roof. Maybe she’d just watch for an hour or two.

  But, getting back to her immediate situation, Plan B hadn’t worked either. She made a mental note to tell Mathilda that the lean-to might need some maintenance come summer. Once she had an answer to the question of ‘how do you know?’, that was.

  Okay, forget the wood stack. Time for Plan C.

  A little window sat just off the lean-to on the side of the hall. Lacey critically measured the distance between it and where the lean-to’s roof joined the side of the building. Once on the sill, she could even step onto the window’s top frame if she needed a bit more height. But how to get her foot onto the sill? She sighed, eyeing the wood stack again.

  Melding her body onto the wall, she thought she heard a crunch on the ground. Freezing, she pricked up her ears. All was quiet, muffled under the blanket of snow spread out all around. She continued, stretching up her hands to grab hold of the hall’s siding like a cross between a barnacle and a cat hanging on by its claws. Channelling her inner ballerina, she raised up her right leg, sliding it against the wall, until her hip and knee were at ninety degree angles. From there, she extended her lower leg, probing towards the joint of the wood pile with the toe of her boot.

  ‘What are you doing?’ a curious voice behind her asked.

  She dropped her arms and leg, flipping herself around on the wall as if she was a pancake. It was Peter, in his uniform with a large rucksack on his back, watching her with wary fascination.

  Uncomfortably aware of how her skirt had ridden up her legs, she reached down and straightened it.

  ??????

  you have tried to get eyes on Albyrne’s cottage? ?? Would you have scaled the roof, found a sneakier hiding spot, or come up with a totally different plan?

  Mystery at Santa’s Village, please leave a quick rating or short review – it really helps new readers discover the story.