The Ice Dove Trail wound through tall forest groves that sheltered them from the wind. But although she and Peter must’ve come over halfway already, Lacey still hadn’t seen any snowdrops yet.

  She was about to ask, when they rounded another bend and the trail opened up onto a glade. It was breathtaking. Sheltered by a three-sided escarpment, the glade lay dusted with snow, snowdrops blooming in sprinkled patches. An icy river ran through it, fed by a frozen waterfall at the far end. A curtain of icicles hung from the top of the escarpment, reaching down to the pool below in frozen fringes.

  ‘It’s magnificent,’ she breathed. ‘If I was Jinxy I would walk past this every, single day.’

  ‘It is wonderful, isn’t it,’ Peter concurred.

  The only thing oddly out of place was a large block of ice sitting on a black stone pedestal in the middle of the glade. Odd clinking noises were coming from it.

  Lacey cocked her head. ‘What’s that?’

  ‘Oh, that’s Icy, he’s our local ice sculptor. Every year he does a special sculpture out here in celebration of the season. Want to go look?’

  ‘Sure. I’ve never seen an ice sculptor at work before.’

  The snow crunched under their feet as they approached.

  Reaching the block, the clinking abruptly stopped and an elf peered round the side at them. Stepping out, he said, ‘Oh, ho there, Peter, what brings you out here so early?’

  His voice sounded a bit muffled, likely due to the various layers of clothing he was bundled up in. Multiple clashing scarves finished off his ensemble, running up his neck and face, leaving only his eyes exposed. Lacey was pretty sure the hat on his head was actually a giant sock. He held a thin ice pick in his hand.

  ‘Ho there, Icy,’ Peter replied. ‘Lacey and I thought we’d walk the trail this fine morning. She’s new here.’

  ‘Yes, I heard,’ Icy said.

  She shivered. Despite the homely layers, his eyes were razor-sharp. Light blue, like the colour of ice and seemingly just as cold.

  ‘How’s the sculpture going?’ Peter asked. ‘Do you know what it will be, yet?’

  Icy’s eyes squinted slightly – did that mean there was a smile under the scarves? ‘Not quite. I can see a line forming here, but whether it will be a wing, neck, or beak yet, I don’t know.’ He tenderly ran a finger over the block, tracing a curve only visible to him.

  ‘You must be very talented,’ Lacey said, before changing the topic. ‘Did you perhaps see Jinxy around here at any point?’

  What was visible of Icy’s expression didn’t change at the mention of Jinxy.

  Peter’s eyes briefly widened though. ‘Yes – that would’ve been late afternoon, three days ago on Starday, when she came by this trail.’

  Starday? Lacey briefly wondered. Must be some local custom, she dismissed it, keeping her focus on the head-socked elf instead.

  Icy looked into the distance as he thought, his eyes enhanced by the frosty hues playing in the glade. ‘Late afternoon, three days ago, Tinsel, Blinky, and Huey were helping me get this block out here. I didn’t see Jinxy then, but maybe one of them did?’

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  ‘Maybe,’ she responded, noticing how Icy’s eyes hadn’t changed at all at the mention of Jinxy. ‘We’ll be sure to ask them too.’

  ‘Of course. I’d better get back to the sculpture though – Christmas is coming.’ He gave them a final nod and resumed tapping at the ice.

  It was a strange dismissal, but Peter didn’t seem bothered by it. He simply nodded a greeting in return and pushed his gloved hands into his coat pockets.

  Still too close to Icy to speak freely, Lacey turned her gaze to the glittering waterfall. It was gorgeous.

  ‘Want to look around a bit?’ Peter asked, reading her mind.

  ‘Yes.’ They began a slow amble through the glade, weaving through the patches of snowdrops.

  ‘Icy’s a bit odd, isn’t he?’ she carefully prodded once they were out of hearing distance.

  ‘Not really. He’s a very interesting elf to be around, most of the time. It’s only when he’s sculpting when he gets like this. He doesn’t like interruptions.’

  Lacey considered it. It was understandable; she was much the same way once she became engrossed in a ledger, tracking the flow of money as it moved about.

  As they reached the end of the glade, two voices came floating down.

  ‘… gotten my lunchbox all packed.’

  ‘Oh, you don’t feel like today’s lunchroom Reinday Reindeer munch?’

  It was Cynthie and Danji, strolling down the path, a lunchbox hanging over Cynthie’s shoulder. Lacey stepped forward to greet them, only to instinctually grab Peter and pull him back into the natural corner the glade made to the path. Like a wild deer scenting danger, she froze. Something momentous was about to happen.

  ‘Have you seen Bethy lately?’ Danji asked. ‘She’s hardly been in the workshop these past few days.’

  ‘No less than that new girl. You’d think she left Aurora solely to follow Peter around.’

  ‘Come on, Cynthie. Lacey’s worried about Jinxy and she’s trying to help him find her.’

  ‘And we all know Jinxy’s fine. She’s just gone off on her own again. Peter really shouldn’t be wasting his time on this wild hen chase.’

  Their voices faded as they grew further from the bend.

  Lacey felt her cheeks reddening. Momentous indeed, she silently chastised herself. The only thing momentous about this was her embarrassment. Was this really how the elves viewed her here? Some kind of doe-eyed silly girl with a teenage crush?

  ‘Don’t mind her,’ Peter said quietly. ‘Cynthie wants to be a match with me, but I don’t like her that way.’

  And me? a part of her wanted to ask. Do you like me that way? But that would be exactly the kind of question a silly girl would ask, and she wasn’t sure she was ready to hear the answer anyway.

  Watching the two disappear from sight, she had a new thought. ‘Wait a minute, are they heading to the workshop? Can you get there from this trail?’

  Peter watched her a moment longer, letting the silence stretch before he answered.

  ‘Not directly, but the trail does dip pretty close to the toy-parts warehouse. They might want to pick up some special supplies for the toys they’re making today, before they head to the workshop.’

  Special supplies? Was that something Jinxy might’ve wanted? She did love to embellish her toys. Lacey filed the idea for future investigation.

  ‘Well, shall we continue the trail?’

  They fell in beside each other, leaving the glade behind as they walked further.

  ‘Reinday Reindeer munch?’ Lacey remarked. ‘It doesn’t sound very good.’

  Peter laughed. ‘It’s shredded venison and cheese with a breadcrumb-cranberry topping. You should try some today.’

  ‘I definitely will. And why Reinday?’

  ‘Reinday, little miss “I’m not a Helper”, is our fourth day of the week,’ he mildly responded.

  Annoyingly, Lacey felt her blush return. ‘Of course I know that, you snow-muffin,’ she tried to cover her mistake. Starday should’ve been my first clue. ‘I’m just asking why Reindeer Munch is specifically on Reinday.’

  ‘Like it would fit on any other day of the week?’ he responded with a raised eyebrow, before launching into a rhyme.

  On Starday, set thy sight anew;

  On Dewday, craft with heart so true.

  On Frostday, brave the cold and win;

  On Reinday, pull as one within.

  Sleighday glides – the journey done!

  Gatherday warms everyone.

  On Blessday, let our hearts alight –

  Peace to all, and blessings this night.

  Finishing with, ‘Mathilda probably has it embroidered on a cushion somewhere, if you want to refresh your mind later.’

  It was cute; she could already imagine elf children reciting it. But she wasn’t going to admit that. Instead she rolled her eyes at him, giving an exaggerated sigh. Then abruptly stopped.

  They had reached the section of the trail that swung by on the edge of the Wasteland, exposing a vast, flat frozen vista reaching as far as the eye could see, ending in jagged mountains at the back.

  But here, just off the path, her eye had caught something fluttering from a bush.

  ‘What’s that?’ she said, reaching out and plucking the torn fragment of material from the broken twig it was caught on.

  Peter gave a shocked gasp. ‘Jinxy. That’s part of Jinxy’s coat!’

  ??????

  you think mattered most? ??

  Mystery at Santa’s Village! ??