#light snowfall

“That was fun! We should do it more often!”

He didn’t understand how it had come to this. Why after involving himself so much in the game (the kiss), would Jack do this?

“You thought I’d let you win? I always win!”

Jamie, long practised in pulling himself out of his imaginings, tilted his head back. Uncaring of the thud it made on the wall behind, he looked at where’d let himself collapse.

“She’s ours now. You are too actually.”

He must have entered one of the clubhouses. One that made no effort to match insides with outsides. A cavernous room, with only a few windows. Whatever illumination normally flooded it was absent. In the gloom he could see bleachers and odd lines on the floor. Which under his hands was scuffed polished wood.

“Ready or not, here I come!”

An indoor sports arena. Of course. Now he wasn’t so inwardly focused he saw players on the court. He wasn’t sure what they were playing. Seemed to be basketball, of the no rules variety. The players were shadows, and Jamie had no chance of seeing their faces in the gloom.

“Don’t be like that, Jamie. It’s just a game.”

He really should get up, find somewhere private. These shadows were Frost’s. They’ll rat him out. He’ll have to face the winter monster. Jamie just couldn’t stand to think of that. (Or shadow-Sophie.)

“What about a new deal? If you make it to the forest you can go home.”

But the self-recriminations came unbidden. He shouldn’t have trusted Frost. He shouldn’t have believed him. He should’ve taken the offer, then at least his mother would’ve only lost one child. Not both.

“Hey! Pass us the ball!”

Confused at a voice so like one of his friends – Monty? – Jamie looked around. One of the shadows, closer now, was waving at him. And pointing. He looked down, the ball was resting against his knee.

“Yeah, that one! What, are you stupid?”

With an angry grunt, Jamie leant forward to grab the ball. It shouldn’t have surprised him it was made of ice, with black lines through it mimicking a normal basketball. Furious, he raised it above his head and brought it down as hard as he could. The damned thing had the nerve to just bounce – not shatter (like him) – from beyond his feet, over to the shadow.

“There’s such a sad love,” came a voice. It was dark and silky, and not one Jamie recognised. The singer was very good, sending shivers down his spine and a hitch to his lungs. “Deep in your eyes, a kind of pale jewel,

“Open and closed within your eyes, He placed the lie within your eyes, There’s such a fooled heart, Beating so fast in search of new dreams, A love that won’t be matched within your heart, He placed the wound within your heart.”

A grey hand offered itself to Jamie, and entranced he took it. All sounds disappeared bar the voice. Even in the singer’s grip, he couldn’t see the face. All Jamie knew was that they were tall, swathed in black and reaching deep inside.

“As the pain sweeps through, Makes no sense to you, Every thrill is gone, Wasn’t too much fun at all,”

Jamie was astounded by the venom of fun, but it fed his vindictive heart,

“But I’ll be there for you~, As your world falls down.”

They were dancing now. A careful dance, up and down stairs. Jamie couldn’t pull his gaze from his partner, but sensed the change in space. It echoed still, but the echoes were muddled. More and more they left the arena for something alien.

“I’ll paint you mornings of gold, I’ll spin you Valentine evenings, Though we’re strangers till now, We’re choosing the path between the stars, We’ll cleave solitude through the stars”

The tightness in Jamie’s chest was getting heavier. He needed to keep moving. He needed to escape. He needed to. He needed to listen. To the dark voice, and the one echoing it. The echo like his own in his head.

“Falling, as your world’s falling down, Falling, falling, falling, (say you’re falling) Falling from love, (say you’re) Falling in hate, (in hate) As your world falls down, (he played you) Falling for me (say “I’m yours”).”

Jamie opened his mouth to agree. Just two little words, his chest was clear, it would be so easy.

Too easy. Grey skin, black, tall, that voice.

Jamie’s shove surprised Pitch enough for him to escape the Boogeyman’s grasp. The sports hall had been replaced with something out of an Escher drawing. After an earthquake. Staircases and ramps and arches in all manner of unnerving directions. And everywhere cracks and wounds in the stone.

“Oh dear,” Pitch crooned, “did you not like my song?”

Jamie didn’t answer, instead (perhaps foolishly) turning his back and walking away. It looked like there were some spots of light here and there. He decided to try and reach one of them. Jamie had no real idea of which direction would lead him out of this place, anyway. But talking to Pitch was hardly going to help. Too bad Pitch wanted to talk, stepping out of a shadow in front of him.

“No, stay,” came the thinly veiled command, “Jack betrayed you, don’t you want revenge?”

Jamie’s shins and feet tingled from where Frost had frozen them. Stopping him so close to the Treehouse. Fixing him in place to watch the shadows steal Sophie away forever. Still…

“Maybe, but I certainly don’t want to do anything with you.”

“Too late,” said the voice that had echoed Pitch’s song.

Jamie whirled to face the new speaker. And saw himself. Or his shadow-self. Colourless and grey, just like the other shadow children. His face didn’t show any of their joy though, just grim stoicism.

“Yes, Jamie Bennet, meet Jamie Bennet. This is the power I could give you. Immortality, magic, power. No one could ever betray you again.”

Ignore Pitch, Jamie told himself, he needed to get out of here. Wherever here was. How had he got here? How was Pitch out of his prison?

“This doesn’t make any sense,” whispered Jamie.

“What, child?”

“How did I get here? I was in a sports hall, then it became this place,” Jamie answered, voice gaining confidence as he continued, “We didn’t move, it changed. And I don’t know how I got to the hall in the first place. It’s like a dream.”

Jamie didn’t notice that as he spoke the pinpricks of light grew. Or the flash of worry across Pitch’s face.

“Or a nightmare. This isn’t real.”

The rays of light blossomed into wide beams. Jamie didn’t miss when Pitch sidestepped to avoid one.

“It’s real enough,” spat Pitch and crushed his fist in front of Jamie. The beams flickered out, one by one. “This is a nightmare, boy. And I am the Nightmare King!”

To punctuate his boast, the only light left was the one shining down on Jamie. The stifling terror from his first meeting with Pitch returned. Though the light seemed to support Jamie’s resolve against it.

“But this is my nightmare. And I know it.” Jamie grinned. “This isn’t my first lucid dream. Light!”

In answer to his order, the shafts of light broke through the cracks again. Unlike his previous lucid dreaming, his control was resisted. Pitch pushed back. Soon for every ray Jamie lit, Pitch snuffed another.

The stalemate continued until something hit Jamie from behind. Splitting his attention, Jamie was only able to prevent Pitch smothering more than one beam at a time. It was his shadow-self. Who’d hit him with a brick.

The grey arm came down again, to knock him out. Or worse.

Unthinkingly, Jamie reached up and caught the shadow by the wrist. It had the same oily feel as the dirty snow. Behind that feelings of fear and hurt and anger. Jamie felt it was himself – but a shell, filled only with his negativities.

Already the skin under his fingers was warming and becoming cleaner. Thinking of the snow again, Jamie thought about the good things in his life. His family, his friends, his happy memories.

Jamie’s shadow-self squirmed trying to escape his grip but stilled when the hint of colour spread up to his face. The shadow wasn’t becoming human, but looked more saturated. His eyes lost their flat deadness and a small quirk formed in his smile.

“Don’t get distracted now,” Pitch drawled, like Jamie was kid daydreaming in school.

Jamie had given too much attention to his shadow-self. Again there was just the one beam shining down. Jamie mustered his will, but he felt so tired. He was shaking.

Wait. Dust was falling from the ceiling. He wasn’t shaking. The dream-scape was. A rumbling was building, seemingly from everywhere. What was Pitch doing now?

The Boogeyman actually looked scared. Gaze jumping around trying to spot the disturbance.

Jamie glanced at the dirt falling. It wasn’t stone dust, but golden “sand?”

Things got confusing then. At the same moment Pitch stepping back into a shadow, and Jamie’s shadow-self turned to mist in his grip. The earthquake intensified and rivers of golden sand burst from all the arches and doorways.

The last thing Jamie thought he glimpsed before golden light took him under were dolphins frolicking.

The first thing Jamie saw was a wide, concerned face. Glowing yellow, with big spikes of hair. There was something hovering above their (his?) head, moving back and forth. Jamie squinted a little to try and follow it with his eyes. Looked like a little shooting star.

In response it burst, and reformed into a bunch of Zs which popped. Replaced with an exclamation mark.

“What?” Jamie groaned, his head was heavy. He must have slept really badly.

“You’re awake!” shouted someone nearby.

It took Jamie a moment to place the voice. And when he turns his head he sees,

“Jack?”

At Jamie’s questioning tone, the winter spirit’s tentative grin spreads into a smile so wide it has to hurt. Then to top it off, Jack does a standing somersault.

“You’re okay!”

“What happened?” Jamie asks, as he pushes himself to sit upright. He still doesn’t feel up to standing, but he probably shouldn’t lie in the snow.

“I don’t know. One minute we were talking, then you shook really badly,” Jack’s rambling answer was magnified by his hand wringing, “You fell down and I couldn’t wake you up. You were crying. Lucky Sandy came by!”

“Sandy?” Jamie echoed looking at the little yellow man. The glittering sand surrounding him triggered a memory. “The Sandman?”

Sandy, the Sandman, grinned, spun a top hat out of his sand and gave an elaborate bow.

“Don’t you speak?” Jamie immediately covered his mouth. A stupid move since his hands had been keeping him upright. Falling back into the snow seemed a fair punishment for his brain-mouth-filter mistake.

Jack laughing was unfair, though.

A hiss accompanied some of the golden sand lifting him up into a very comfy sand chair. Kind of made him want to go back to sleep.

Sandy floated in front of him and picture of a sleeping baby appeared above him. He opened his mouth to mime speaking, with a sand speech bubble even. Then the baby woke, crying.

“You don’t speak, so you don’t wake the kids?” Jamie guessed.

Sandy nodded happily.

Jamie wondered what Sophie would think of the Sandman.

“Sophie! I got to go!” Jamie gasped as he jumped to his feet. He refused to wait for his blood pressure to right itself, setting off in the direction of the Treehouse. “How much time do I have?”

Jamie didn’t stop for Jack’s response, focusing on the little Winterland.

“Fifteen minutes!”

He could make it. If he just kept little Winterland in sight, that was plenty of time. However his tiredness made it feel like his thoughts were travelling through tar.

Before he knew it the Treehouse was just yards away, even in bigger Winterland. Jamie stumbled forward. He was going to make it. Save Sophie, take her home. Maybe even invite Jack to hang out.

There was a shadow girl in the way.

“Sera?” Jamie asked bewildered, “Could you move?”

“No.”

Jamie would admit he found Santa’s complete bafflement amusing. Enough to cover his mouth lest his shaking shoulders become actual laughter.

“Yeah, when I escaped I got to lock him up. Stuck him a deep hole to be forgotten.” Jack’s face was blank now, but Jamie sensed just a touch of something dark behind the mask. “If I don’t play games with him, he can’t beat me.”

An oubliette. That was Jack was describing. Jamie had always thought it was a terrible fate. If anyone deserved it, Pitch did.

“No prison can hold him forever,” North warned, voice old and weary.

“Ever got him to imprison himself before?” challenged Jack.

“No. But you don’t know who he is. Who he was.” Santa’s voice took on a curious effect – an almost melody and almost rhythm. Jamie thought it might be some magic, but he didn’t feel anything like he had during the tug of war. Jamie found himself being swept up into the recital of an old story.

“Long, long ago, before the Earth existed, there was a Golden Age. The peoples of the stars prospered and were ruled by the Constellations. The stains of this era were the Dream Pirates, Nightmare Men and Fearlings. The Constellations’ armies and navies, under the lead of the Golden General – Kozmotis Pitchiner – rounded them up.

“They were locked in a prison. Impenetrable and inescapable. It had one door, and needed a guard. The General volunteered and said farewell to his daughter, to stand guard.

“The Fearlings and Shadows tried to escape. Eventually they started pretending to be the General’s daughter, trapped in the prison. He didn’t believe them but one day he fell for the trick.

“He opened the door and they escaped. Worse still they possessed him. Thus Pitch Black was born. He turned against the Constellations. Under his command stars were extinguished, planets destroyed and the Constellations nearly killed off.

“The Golden Age fell, and Pitch Black’s reign of terror continued until he came to Earth. He wanted Manny, who’d never had a bad dream. After a great battle, Manny’s guardian Nightlight trapped him with a spear through his chest.

“He was trapped for millennia until he escaped in the Dark Ages. Manny assembled a group – the Guardians of Childhood to fight him. We collected artefacts of the Golden Age and were able to seal him away again.

“However,” Santa’s storytelling voice transitioned into a warning tone again, “he escaped once. Manny thinks he will again.”

“Maybe I should throw you in with him,” Jack grumbled, “Couldn’t do that to the kids though. You still owe me a favour though, North.”

“Why?”

“Because we played a game, and I won,” said Jack, armed crossed and a smug grin plastered on his face. Which fell into a worried bottom lip as he turned to Jamie, “Any ideas?”

“Presents?” Jamie guessed. “Sophie’s not that interested in Santa.”

“Hmm, I guess I could demand a tour of the Workshop. But I like trying to bust in.”

“Bust in?” echoed North.

“Oh don’t worry,” Jack waved off North’s concerns, “I never make it past the yetis. I’m going to let you go and just say you owe me a favour.”

Their discussion was interrupted by an angry ringing. After a moment Jack fished his pocket watch out of his pouch. He pressed a button and the alarm silenced. Jack flipped open the cover. Whatever it was made him frown a little.

“Well Jamie. That’s your last hour warning.”

“Crap!” – “Naughty!” scolded Santa – “Sorry!” called Jamie over his shoulder as he dashed out of the clubhouse.

Jamie didn’t spy any shadows outside. Even Jack’s earlier ice working was unstained by captured darkness. Jamie thought he’d be okay. The various shadow children he’d met had be nice enough. He doubted they would still be… monstrous. He wasn’t an invader and had Jack’s favour.

Looking across Jamie was pleased to see that he was almost to the Treehouse. He was now three-quarters around the pond. Once again he was struck by the double perspective of Winterland. The Treehouse might be a mile (and several games) away, or just a dozen yards.

Jamie did his best to focus on the smaller Winterland, in the hope that it might shorten his journey. He didn’t have time for a bunch of games. It was hard to tell if it was working. Jamie thought it might be, but it was giving him a headache.

“Hey! Wait up!”

Jack’s shout broke Jamie’s concentration. The nearly solid compressed reality and the fuzzy expanded Winterland switched. He found that he’d travelled about a quarter mile.

“What Jack?” asked Jamie sharply. His headache spiked into a migraine.

Jack held up his hands in surrender, “Just didn’t expect you to move so fast.”

“Sorry, sorry,” mumbled Jamie, rubbing two fingers at each temple, “my head hurts. I was trying to cross the little Winterland.”

“Little Winterland?”

Jamie’s response became a drawn out sigh of relief when Jack rested a cool hand on his brow. That really shouldn’t be so nice. After a moment the throbbing receded enough for Jamie to think.

“Depending on how you look at it Winterland is either this huge place or not much more than the pond near my house.”

“Really? I didn’t know you could do that,” Jack actually sounded surprised. Before turning mischievous, “The pond near your house is my pond. The same one down there.”

 “Oh, the one you were born from?” asked Jamie then teased Jack, “So you’re a Burgess boy too?”

“I guess,” said Jack after a while, “I mean it’s the closest thing to a home I’ve got. I was around when I was just a dozen cabins.”

“So you’ve seen the world change a lot, haven’t you?”

Jack hummed agreement, adding, “I almost gave up keeping track of everything after I escaped Pitch. Machines were everywhere and there were so many people.”

Jamie wanted to ask more about Jack’s captivity but he was enjoying their light conversation too much to spoil it.

“You’ve seen a lot haven’t you? Care to share a Kodak moment?”

“What’s a Kodak moment?”

“It’s a special moment,” Jamie explained, “one you’d like a picture souvenir to remind you of.”

“Well one time I got everyone in Central Park to join in a massive snowball war. Young and old, black and white. It was pretty amazing. All the happy flakes really tried me out, though.”

“Happy flakes?”

Jack grinned and scooped a snowball from the ground. He blew on it and it glowed blue. The winter sprite tossed in his hand twice before hurling it at a nearby tree. Where the snowball exploded on impact a cloud of blue sparkles danced.

“I can make them as single snowflakes too,” Jack explained as he rolled his hand and produced a single, large, perfect, blue shining snowflake. “They get people to let go a bit and play. I use them to get kids to play nice sometimes.”

Jack’s mischievous grin returned and he blew softly on the “happy flake”. Caught in the wind it danced and headed straight for Jamie. Entranced by its beauty, he made no effort to dodge and was right between the eyes. Blue sparkles erupted in front of his eyes and a surge of glee made him laugh.

An impish thought crossed Jamie’s mind. It might be stretching the idea of a “game” a bit, but he was fairly sure he could pull it off. Jack wouldn’t see it coming.

“So, you’ve never been kissed?” Jamie was careful to keep his tone light. Trying to convey curiosity rather than ridicule.”

Casually, Jamie swung his hand out to clasp Jack’s. The frost spirit glanced down then raised an eyebrow at the mortal. Jamie just shrugged and kept the conversation going.

“Never got the chance,” Jack admitted, “I’m generally invisible to mortals. The shadow kids are who I see most. I wouldn’t want to kiss them. They’re all like siblings to me.”

“Aren’t there other spirits? Like Bunny and Santa?”

“Yeah, but they all hide themselves away,” Jack’s speech dropped to a mutter, “And they tend to hate me. For no good reason.”

Jamie deemed it time to step it up. He angled his steps slightly so he was brushing shoulders with Jack. Jamie slipped his hand free (he was sure he imagined a whine and resistance on Jack’s part), before slinging it over Jack’s shoulders.

“Okay,” Jack said, voice frosted with playful suspicion, “what are you up too?”

“Just a little game,” chuckled Jamie, “I’m sure you’ll work it out.”

“Is it a riddle game?”

“No,” Jamie replied. He took the opportunity to ruffle Jack’s hair with arm over his shoulders.

“Can you give me a hint? What’s it called?”

Jack had stopped walking to decipher what Jamie was doing. Jamie just kept going, stepping around face to face with Jack. Resting forearms on Jack’s shoulders Jamie smirked as answered.

“Two words. Second one’s a bird.”

“And the first?” questioned Jack.

Jamie ran a thumb across Jack’s cheek and leant forwards to rest his forehead on Jack’s. The same soothing cool spread from the contact. Only accentuating the contrast with his burning cheeks.

“Hmm, it used to mean happy.”

Jamie rolled his head and bent down to lick up Jack’s neck to his ear. Unsurprisingly he tasted like fresh snow melt. Jamie was rewarded by Jack arching head away, belly close. Plus the sound of a wooden shaft hitting the ground.

He didn’t have time to enjoy it, as Jack lunged. Frigid tingles ran down Jamie’s spine from the icy throbbing where Jack was nipping his neck. Jamie held back any reaction from a groan of satisfaction. After a blissfully eternal minute, Jack released his hold. Topping it off with a frosty puff across the mark.

“I think I can guess what we’re playing,” Jack whispered into Jamie’s ear, “Tell me if I’m breaking any rules.”

Jamie wasn’t sure what the noise he made in response meant. Between a hum and a groan, it was part agreement part fluster. Jack wasn’t meant to grasp the rules – certainly not return fire.

Nevertheless Jamie didn’t chicken out. He grasped Jack by the hair and angled him to kiss. For all the firmness of Jamie’s direction, the kiss was mild. Not soft or hesitant; nor rough or passionate. The kiss was something of a playful game of one-upmanship.

Jack responded by suckling on Jamie’s lower lip. Jamie removed one hand from crisp white hair to explore under the sprite’s hoodie. Jack countered by running his tongue across Jamie’s lips, demanding entry. Jamie grinned but didn’t surrender, instead pushing his way into the cool of Jack’s mouth.

Jamie shivered as hands found their way under his shirt. Tickling his sides and brushing his chest. The cold touch worked its way down, where abs might be if he worked out. Jamie moved his hands in the opposite direction, reaching up to flick Jack purposefully.

Jack retaliated for being made to flinch again by moving his hands lower. Too low.

Jamie recoiled, breaking all contact with Jack. He blinked furiously, wondering what had got into him. Why had he come on so strong? Sure Jack was interesting but he was never one to jump a guy.

“I win!” Jack crowed, doing another victory dance.

Jamie could only nod in slack-jawed agreement. How did a guy who’d been so handsy revert to a triumphant five year old?

A shadowy figure walked along the forest edge of Winterland. Though he had escaped his accursed pit, his magic still bound him to this forsaken monument to childhood folly. With a huff at his suspicions being confirmed he stepped through a shadow to his lair.

The unsettling architecture was as he’d left it. Stairs and arches running in every direction. The décor had always been somewhat decrepit but in his absence it had crossed the line from untrustworthy in appearance to actually danger-fraught. Masonry had crumbled, and the metalwork of his cages and “play-equipment” was rusted.

Worse still there were drifts of that light-ridden snow everywhere.

Pitch considered his position. There was no trace of Frost’s magic – suggesting he never visited the underground lair. He had few resources. His globe mocked him with its lights and the low levels of global fear. And none of him personally.

His fearlings and shadows had were corrupted and under the Frost brat’s sway. All he had were the two he’d stole back when he left his previous cage. He’d just have to collect some more, before dealing with the winter upstart.

“Umbra, Tennebrae. I believe it’s time we joined in the fun.”

“Now, why would I do that?”

Jamie met Jack’s teasing smile with a deadpan expression. There was something in that grin that Jamie didn’t recognise. Perhaps it was just Jack’s inexperience with mortals. Though, it was vaguely familiar.

“Because I don’t want my gauntlet run invalidated because you carried me to the finish line.”

That seemed to the right thing to say. Jamie quickly found himself set back on the ground. They were at the top of a snowy hill – perfect for sledding. At the slope’s bottom was one of the clubhouses dotting Winterland.

Outside it there was a ring of shadows. They had surrounded a large man in red, and were throwing a pair of flat, long, glittering objects around and over him.

“Who’s that?” asked Jamie, drawing Jack’s attention to the scene below.

“Oh! North’s here! Awesome.” The winter spirit knocked the snow with his staff and an ice toboggan formed. He sat down in it and gestured for Jamie to join him. “Wanna go see what’s up?”

Jamie dubiously looked at the toboggan. Sure it was magic ice but would it support two grown teenagers? Not that Jack seemed to weigh as much as he should.

“Make me a sled, and we’ll make it a race.”

Jack’s answer was an equally daring smirk, “Is that a challenge, Mister Bennett?”

“Yeah, why not,” Jamie shrugged, he doubted he’d win at winter sports against Jack Frost. But he had to be optimistic.

Jack merely leant over and tapped the snow with his staff again. A sled formed this time, highly reminiscent of the one he’d had a kid, though scaled up for him. The one Jack had apparently made ramps for. Jamie lay down on the planks.

“Okay. Ready? Set? Go!”

Jamie pushed against the snow and got his sled moving. Quickly it passed the hill’s level crest and began to pick up speed. In his peripheral vision he saw that Jack was lagging behind maybe half a sled length. He must have waited to give Jamie a head start.

One Jack was fast making up as his toboggan passed Jamie’s sled and settled a little ways ahead. Jamie could tell Jack was teasing him, goading him to try and make it a real challenge.

He obliged, ignoring self-preservation and moving his arms from the sled handles to tucked by his sides. The reduction in drag was just enough for him to take the lead.

Jack merely laughed as his hunkered down himself and retook the lead. He didn’t bother to tease Jamie this time, rocketing off to the finish.

Which Jamie realised was the back wall of the clubhouse. Just as he was beginning to worry about broken bones, Jack waved his staff. A snow drift rose up and he crashed into it with a fluffy explosion of snow.

As Jamie found a second later, the snow was soft and lightly packed. Perfect for stopping an out of control sled. After a moment enjoying the cool whiteness covering him, Jamie got to his feet. Jamie paused in brushing the snow off his clothes to examine it. In his hands it was cold, but didn’t melt. The blue-tinged white seemed to almost glow. The opposite of the oily stuff.

A flash above from the shadows turned Jamie’s attention back to the crowd. Gone were the monochrome children he’d met. The shadows were unnerving, melted wax versions of people – if they weren’t completely inhuman. He couldn’t see clearly over the shadows from their level, especially since they seemed to merge into each other. Jack had a better viewpoint from atop his crook. All Jamie could see was–

“Are they throwing swords around?” yelped Jamie.

“Yeah, looks like the guys got their hands on North’s sabres.”

“Who’s North?”

“You’ll see,” said Jack before shouting at the shadows, “Guys cut it out! I want to introduce someone.”

The shadows stilled and parted, giving Jamie a proper look at the man they’d encircled. He was big. Very big. Tall and solid, in a way that spoke of solid muscles hidden by overindulgence. Though his white hair was matched by a chest length beard, he didn’t look ancient, more middle aged.

“Jack Frost!” North boomed before settling into what seemed like a relaxed boxing stance, “Don’t think without sword I am helpless.”

“That’s my name. Nice to meet you,” chirped Jack. He hopped down to stand midway between him and Jamie. With the standard motions he introduced the two.

“Nicholas St North meet Jamie Bennett. Jamie, North.” Jack winked before continuing, “You may know him as Santa Claus.”

Jamie tilted his head. He could see it. Less jolly fat man and more badass Santa. The big man crossed his arms revealing Naughty and Nice tattoos.

“Ah, Jamie Bennett: Naughty List five times. Jack Frost, you hold record. Kidnapping is very naughty!”

“He didn’t kidnap me,” Jamie interrupted feeling a need to defend Jack. He certainly wasn’t anything like Pitch Black.

“Oh?”

“I accidentally summoned the shadows to kidnap my little sister.”

North frowned and Jamie was concerned that he was never getting on the Nice List again. Never mind losing Sophie, it looked like even if he got her home, he’d caused Santa so much trouble.

“This is troubling,” rumbled North, seemingly more to himself, “We buried that summoning. Mortal boy should not know it.”

Jamie raised an eyebrow, “It was an accident. I just made a wish when the wrong creatures were listening.”

The hairs on the back of his neck told Jamie perhaps that wasn’t the right thing to say. The background whispering that he’d stopped paying attention to swelled into focus. Now it was angry buzzing and threatening hissing. The shadows had twisted and grown – back to the monstrous forms they’d sported playing with North.

“Whoa! Whoa, guys!”

Jack attempted assert control over the shadows, arms out and palms down. They ceased advancing but didn’t retreat or drop their intimidating shapes. Seeing this, Jack raised his crook above his head and slammed it down.

An icy explosion roared out from the impact. The shadows recoiled and the unlucky lagging few were frozen.

“Shoo! The lot of you!” Jack ordered waving his staff at the shadows, “I’ll deal with the intruder.” Jack turned to face North and Jamie, rubbing the back of his neck, “Sometimes it’s like herding cats.”

“I may know not game you are playing, Jack Frost. But I will not fall for it!”

Jack’s answering mischievous smirk promised nothing good. Jamie groaned, he was beginning to dread Jack getting that expression. Though Jamie took some solace in not being the main target this time.

“Oh, we haven’t started playing yet!” Jack’s grin became manic and he rounded on Jamie, “What should we play Jamie? I’m thinking another question game. I’m sure North wants to know more about me.”

“That’s a little self-centred, don’t you think?” teased Jamie. But he wanted to know more about Jack – and suspected vice versa. “But what about Never Have I Ever?”

“I have heard of this. Is drinking game, no?” interjected Santa before turning a reproachful look on Jamie, “Why Nice list boy know so many Naughty things?”

Jamie couldn’t help but blush. He was being chastised by Santa – who was like every paternal figure ever had or imagined in one. Even if it was over something as minor as drinking games. It’s not like Jamie had brought up something really naughty.

“The internet,” Jamie blandly replied.

Jack snickered and jumped to claim the conversation’s focus again.

“Enough about that, better get inside before the others come back.”

Jack started shepherding them towards the clubhouse. Jamie complied easily, he didn’t want to see the shadows angry again. Plus, outside in a ring of frozen shadows wasn’t a great place to play a game. Santa seemed to still be off-balance a little as he didn’t resist Jack’s prodding.

“The game is Never Have I Ever.” Jack’s tone was firm, straight forward and serious again. Jamie idly considered the growing realisation that Jack could be serious, he just preferred not to be. “The rules are pretty simple. We each take turns saying “Never Have I Ever…” followed by something we’ve never done. Anyone who has done that thing has to hold up a finger. If you hold up three fingers, you’re out. Winner is the last man standing. Any questions?”

At this point Jack was herding them into the clubhouse. Which was similar to the one Jamie had played (and lost) video games in. Beanbags and couches, however instead of an impressive entertainment system there was a bookshelf full of board games.

“One,” Santa replied, “how will I know you tell the truth?”

“If you agree to play the game, you have to stick to the rules. Winterland won’t let you break them. Why don’t we have a practise round? You’ll see what I mean.”

Jamie nodded and dropped himself into one of the beanbags. After a moment’s consideration Santa nodded and sat – not in a beanbag, instead claiming a whole two seater couch to himself.

“I’ll go first,” Jack offered, “Never have I ever peed my pants in public.”

Jamie clenched his fist. Just his luck that Jack would guess something seriously embarrassing. His resistance to confessing was pointless as an icy force wrapped around his hand. It lifted if out of his lap and gently – but unyieldingly – extended one of his fingers.

Jack cracked up laughing. Which only made Jamie blush and hide his face in shame.

“I was six,” he mumbled, “I refused to take a toilet break all day at Disneyworld.”

“Understandable,” Jack said calming down faster than Jamie could’ve hoped, “Why don’t you go next North? Give Jamie a little more time to recover.”

The big Russian thought for a moment before stabbing the air with a finger and shouting, “Idea! Never have I ever–” whatever he was going to say was lost in a coughing fit.

“Someone tried to lie,” Jack singsonged.

Santa cleared his throat, and spoke, “Never have I ever thought Easter better than Christmas.”

Jamie shrugged an extended another figure. He and Jack – judging by the sprite’s expression – were surprised when Jack was forced to unfurl a finger of his own.

“No one tells Bunny,” growled Jack.

“Never have I ever,” Jamie said quickly before Jack made further effort to keep his secret, “woken up in bed with a stranger.”

Santa just held up a finger and shrugged.

Jack didn’t hold out a finger but did crow, “It wasn’t a bed!” Then his mouth fell open when he realised what he’d just said. He covered his face and defended himself, “It was the morning after a big party, woke up on the floor with some other spirits.” He regained his attitude to declare, “Right, practise round’s over. Now we play for real. Never have I ever crossdressed!”

Jamie didn’t move, but Santa did, extending a finger. Jack fell into a laughing fit again, and managed to beg for details between giggles.

“I needed a disguise. I’m told I made a fetching lady,” he said nonchalantly. “I was a young man, then.”

Jack obviously wanted more details but it didn’t look like he was going to get them.

“Never have I ever,” said North in tones more suited to a judge sentencing a criminal, “worked with Pitch Black.”

This time neither Jack nor Jamie moved. Jamie didn’t think trading fears for questions counted, and thankfully Winterland agreed. It wasn’t like he could explain himself – not with Pitch’s jinx on him.

Seeing no reaction from Jack, North relaxed. Now he really looked like the jolly fat man that Santa Claus was described as. He didn’t need any more explanation from Jack and just nodded to Jamie to go ahead.

“Never have I ever been married,” Jamie said. He was surprised when no one moved. “What about Missus Claus?”

“Kristina? She’s the, how do you say дух места?” he mumbled a bit to himself, “Spirit of place, genius loci! That’s the English word. As my Workshop grew and more people – Yeti and elf – lived there, she came to be. She just looks like she does because the children believe. I could change her, but she reminds me of my little sister. Just because she lives in the same building as me does not make us married.”

Jamie looked towards Jack wondering what embarrassing thing he’d say this turn. Jack’s grim – and slightly hurt – expression broadcasted he wasn’t playing any more.

“Never have I ever gotten a Christmas present.”

Jamie grimaced as he raised a finger. North actually flinched like he’d been hit, and held out a second finger. The white beard hid most of the big man’s face but Jamie saw how his eyes hardened. Seemed he wasn’t playing any more.

“Never have I ever been on Naught List.”

Both boys held out a finger.

“That’s cheating,” Jack whined, “Should be anyway.”

It was Jamie’s turn now. He and Santa were on two and Jack was only on one. What did he know would catch Jack? He could only think of one thing.

“Never have I ever been captured,” there was a rough lump in Jamie’s throat, but neither the rules nor the jinx stopped him continuing, “by Pitch.”

Jamie hadn’t expected Santa to extend his third finger, knocking him out of contention. He was also unsure how Jack would respond to such an underhanded move.

Thankfully, Jack just melodramatically gripped his heart with his non-counting hand. Though Jamie thought he saw some real hurt on the sprite’s face.

“Playing dirty,” gasped Jack, “using our talks against me. You’re as bad as the cheater over there.” He punctuated his accusation with a thumb jab at North. “We’re both on two now, so I just have to get you out before you get me.”

“Sudden death, huh?”

“Right,” nodded Jack, before smirking self-deprecatingly, “Never have I ever been kissed.”

Jamie groaned and held out a third finger. Not a difficult guess for Jack to make, though he was surprised that Jack hadn’t been kissed.

Jack grinned triumphantly and did a little victory dance. Before he turned to face the two still seated, with a much more evil grin.