Lacey gasped, sitting bolt upright. ‘Peter, there’s something missing!’

  Seeing her jolt of clarity, Peter also sat upright. ‘What is it?’

  ‘The five golden rings. I haven’t seen them yet.’

  ‘Oh,’ he deflating a bit. ‘They’re in the town hall’s Christmas display, like I told you the other day. I hadn’t realised you wanted to see them that badly.’

  ‘No, that’s not it. Since I arrived, I’ve seen one element of the twelve days of Christmas on each consecutive day. On the first day, I woke up here, under the pear tree. On the second day I got swooped at by the two turtle doves. On the third, I helped Melo catch his hens. On the fourth, the four calling birds were singing outside my window. But on day five? Nothing. Now, on day six, I see the geese.

  ‘It’s the rings. They’re missing.’

  Peter shook his head. ‘No, that can’t be. You simply didn’t go to the village hall yet.’

  ‘So take me,’ she said. ‘Let’s go right now. Time’s running out. We have to find out what’s going on.’

  ‘All right,’ he said, getting up and holding out his hand for her again.

  Despite the urgency, she couldn’t help smiling at the gesture. For the second time in two days, he was helping her up out of the snow. It was a trend she could live with. Catching her smile, he smiled as well, and together they trudged through the village toward the town hall.

  The town hall sat just south of the workshop, tucked into the western corner of the village square. From the outside it looked a bit like a Viking longhouse – long, low, and timbered, with a steeply pitched roof layered with a thick drift of snow.

  They walked through the entrance facing out onto the square, into a warm space decorated with wreaths and garlands hanging over finely carved patterns tracing the wooden walls.

  ‘The Christmas display is through here,’ Peter said, motioning for Lacey to enter ahead of him. She walked through the doorway, suddenly feeling for all the world like she’d entered a crafter’s tropical forest.

  Wall-hangings depicting Christmas scenes cascaded down the walls, interspersed with finely crafted shelves and display cases. On these, flowered blooms of poinsettias and amaryllis, threaded through with pine boughs, strips of ivy, and patches of mistletoe and holly.

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  Lacey stopped in wonder. ‘I can’t believe I haven’t seen this yet. And Jinxy put it all together?’

  ‘Well, she had a lot of help from the other villagers, but yes. She’s the one who organised and laid it all out.’

  She turned slowly, looking at every wall in wonder. ‘Jinxy has to be the most talented individual I’ve ever met.’

  Peter nodded, looking at the display with appreciation. ‘She certainly has a gift, doesn’t she. Anyway, do you want to see the Christmas orchids she disappeared for last time? They’re right over here.’

  Lacey walked over, expecting to see one of the normal Christmas orchid varieties. But of course, this was not the case. The orchids reached up from their stem leaves, tall and proud. The stems bore large, elegant flowers, coloured a deep Christmas red with glittering golden veins, looking like a kiss of the sun in the middle of winter. She gently stroked one of the petals, feeling an infusion of momentary warmth running down her finger.

  ‘They’re magical, aren’t they,’ she said.

  ‘Yes. They create a slight ambience of warmth around them. In the wild, you’ll often find companion plants cuddling up to them for the warmth in winter when they bloom. It’s a symbiotic relationship. Here, the warmth represents the warmth of Christmas in our hearts.’

  Lacey had never owned plants, but suddenly she longed for one of these orchids. She could do with a little more warmth in her life. ‘I wish I had one,’ she sighed. ‘They’re so lovely.’

  Peter smiled at her pleasure.

  With a gentle sigh, she forced herself to turn away from the orchids. ‘You’d better show me the rings before I fall in love with something else in here.’

  ‘Sure.’ He turned to a pedestal supporting a red, velvet pillow in the corner. And then he fell silent, his face turning white.

  ‘Peter?’ she asked.

  ‘They can’t be gone,’ he said, walking over in two steps and grabbing hold of the pedestal. ‘Where are they?’ He dropped to the ground and began to search the space around the foot of the pedestal. ‘They must’ve fallen.’

  Even though she had expected as much, Lacey still felt alarmed. She fell to her knees, helping him search the floor along the walls and underneath the display cases. The rings were not there.

  Peter stayed cross-legged on the floor. ‘What am I going to tell Santa?’ he asked. ‘Where would they have gone?’

  Lacey, noticing something on the pedestal from underneath, crept up to it, looking at it from below.

  ‘Maybe “who took them” is the better question,’ she said, pointing up to the smudge of green paint underneath.

  Peter groaned, dropping his head into his hands.

  She could imagine how he felt. This couldn’t be easy. Kneeling beside him, she silently rubbed his back.

  ‘We need to have a hearing,’ he said. ‘Now.’

  She silently nodded.

  ‘I, I’d better go get Albyrne. You wait here. I’ll let Mathilda know on the way, and she’ll get some witnesses to come too.’

  ‘And Icy and them,’ Lacey reminded him. ‘They were up to something with Albyrne the other night.’

  Peter groaned again. ‘By the Saints, you’re right. We’d better get them in here as well.

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