The Elf Archive - Book Two of The Magi Charter

Jordan David

Description

The Elf Archive:
It has been five years since Noel Night became head of the new Historical department of the North Pole. The summer solstice brings the annual Reindeer Games, in which Noel and Spices will be teaming up to compete in one of the events. Santa Nicolas has decided to plunge into the dating game in hopes of finding a Mrs. Claus, with adventurous results. Mistletoe Green continues to plot and interfere from behind the scenes, but for what purpose is still not clear. The North Pole complex is as ancient as its mysteries, some of which are coming to light. Noel will need to solve the secret of a lost library as well as his own human past in order to thwart those who do not wish the elves to regain too much freedom...

About the series:
For over two thousand years the legend of Santa Claus has endured. His is a Mission of peace as outlined in the Magi Charter, given to the first Santa by the Child. From humble beginnings, following that First Christmas, the Santa lineage has been passed down through the ages. This epic adventure tells the story of those Santas from the founding of the North Pole and the origin of the ancient elves, to our modern times where the world's problems affect even those in the secluded complex of the North, and concluding in the distant future which finds Santa and the elves committed to their mission on a galactic scale where Christmas traditions are barely recognizable. In every era, those committed to the Mission must find a way to deliver that which is needed most to those most deserving.

Sujets

• Fiction
• Fantasy

Informations

• Publié par: eBookIt.com
• Date de parution: 30 avril 2012
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781456608705
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 1 Mo

Extrait

The Elf Archive
 
Jordan David
 
 
 
 
 
*Cover art and interior illustrations by: Rob “ Wyndagger ” Bockholdt
Copyright 2022 Jordan David,
All rights reserved.
 
 
Formatted, Converted, and Distributed by eBookIt.com
http://www.eBookIt.com
 
 
ISBN-13: 978-1-4566-0870-5 (ebook)
 
 
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.
The Magi Charter
by Jordan David
 
 

 
 
The Elf Brief
The Elf Archive
The Elf Coup
The Elf Accord
The Elf Legacy
The Elf Resistance
The Elf Directive
The Elf Sojourn
The Elf Revelation
Contents
Chapter 1
Shades of Gray
Chapter 2
Holiday Sunset
Chapter 3
Cider Eggnog
Chapter 4
The Inquisitive Elf
Chapter 5
Old Acquaintances, New Acquaintances
Chapter 6
No Rest for the Busy
Chapter 7
What Snow Hides
Chapter 8
What’s in A Dream
Chapter 9
Nurse Evergreen
Chapter 10
Wet & Wild Games
Chapter 11
Where the Owls Are
Chapter 12
Unexpected Surprises
Chapter 13
Selma’s Secret
Chapter 14
Comes the Letter
Glossary
The Departments of the North Pole
 
 


Chapter 1
 

 
Shades of Gray
 
His hands were wet and freezing cold. So cold they had become numb. Despondent, the young man stared bleakly at the raging fire methodically consuming his uncle’s house. His own home too; had been for as long as he could remember. He cast around hoping someone would assist him in putting out the fire. But he was alone, or as good as.
It was late in November. A frost already covered the ground this night, the first snows would come any day as the hard Russian winter closed its fist around the town of Selma. The warmth of the fire felt good in a way, but that small comfort came at a heavy price. Uncle Dimitri’s house had been in the family for generations. The roof over the garage, where Uncle ran a meager mechanic shop, collapsed with a metallic screech of protest. Everything was a total loss.
The young man wandered out into the street, surely someone had noticed the fire and summoned the firefighters. The street was devoid of neighbors though. Their residence was nowhere near the other houses and buildings of the town. In a way its isolation symbolized the family’s own. His parents and sister had fled the country when he was too little to remember or understand. Uncle Dimitri was all the family he had or did until a few weeks ago. The elderly man had been arrested and taken away without explanation.
“What’s wrong with you?” he shouted at the handful of people gathered in the distance. “Help me!”
But he knew no help would come. The townspeople were content to observe from the confines of the town proper. Somewhere amongst the buildings the sirens of fire trucks echoed through the streets, but he knew they were in no hurry. They would arrive just in time to put out the smoldering shell. After all, none of the other homes were in danger. He turned back to watch the house, wood popping, glass panes bursting… nothing much of a recognizable home was left.
He sank to his knees in the yard. The hose was still running; a plastic bucket lay on its side. He considered for a fleeting moment another attempt to fight the blaze with those pathetic tools. With all he’d been through this night, even his body was deserting him now. “Why...?”
A hand clasped his shoulder. “You know why Mikhail,” a teenage boy said reassuringly.
Yes, he did. Not that it made him feel better. It made him angry. His family had always been the outcasts. They refused to join the Communist Party, choosing instead to get involved with underground democracy movements. That’s why his parents had to flee. That’s what Uncle told him. As for himself and Dimitri, they kept to themselves as much as possible. Uncle never did anything to attract the attention or incur the ire of the authorities. But that was not good enough. Joining the Party was not an option, not if you expected to live a decent life. Not if you were a good comrade.
This year had been particularly bad. In the years following Mikhail’s coming of age to officially join the Party, he’d managed to avoid it, much to the chagrin of the town. He dragged his feet, made excuses for not getting to it. The more abuse he took from schoolmates and harassment from the authorities only strengthened his resolve to follow his parents’ footsteps. Mikhail begged his Uncle to tell him all there was to know about what his parents had done. Where they fled, how to find them... But Uncle Dimitri was an old man and years of drinking had taken a toll. His mind was not what it once was. Often, he could not remember Mikhail’s parents’ names or his infant niece, who they took with them when they fled. Uncle was never able to explain how it was Mikhail had been left behind. If there was an answer to those questions in the house, it had just gone up in smoke.
He did not know why this year had gone so badly. Perhaps the town had simply had enough of the two misfits on the outskirts. Business had slowed to virtually nothing for his Uncle’s repair shop. They barely scraped together enough money for food. Mikhail earned a meager wage working a magazine stand for that thief Gustov, and in his spare time had been stockpiling firewood for the winter. That was the only good thing about living here, it was near the big forest.
“This was no accident,” he told the teenager.
“No,” the boy agreed. “Come Mikhail, this would be a good time… to go.”
Mikhail turned from the fire and studied the teen. Odd that this boy was the only person who just happened to be here this night. Perhaps he was responsible? But why did he try to help put the fire out? It dawned on him that if it were not for Zima Svet, he would’ve had no warning… he could easily have perished. He shivered uncontrollably as the wind picked up.
Zima Svet was an unusual youth. He was not very tall despite claiming to be fourteen. The boy wore blue jeans, wet and dirty from the fire battle. He had an oversized black coat and thick muffler hat. The icy wind did not seem to bother him, and despite the fire, the boy was as calm and clear spoken as if they were at the seaside.
Go where? Zima Svet had talked before about wanting to hire Mikhail for a special job. But that was unlikely. As unlikely as the boy’s name. It meant Winter Light in Russian. A most unusual name. So were his clothes. He always wore the same clothes. Blue jeans were hard to come by in Selma. Over the last few days Mikhail asked around town if anyone knew this stranger, but no one ever did. Zima Svet wanted only to talk about a job, but never got specific. Especially when it came to that job’s location. Mikhail suspected it was a trap. A setup… he’d agree to take the job, then be arrested for trying to leave the country without permission. It was just what the authorities needed to put him in prison. But it was Uncle Dimitri that was taken away…
“Uncle… what about Uncle?” Mikhail whispered. What indeed? The loss of the house and shop was sure to kill the old man, if prison did not.
Zima Svet returned him a sad stare. The boy said nothing. His eyes said it all. Mikhail shivered with the wind and wiped the tears away with frozen fingers. “I can’t let them get away with this. I’ll do… I’ll… something!”
“You must pick your battles Mikhail. Nothing else can be done here,” Zima Svet told him. “But there is a place where someone with your talents is needed. Come.”
Mikhail stared blankly at the house. What was he to do? There was nowhere for him to go. No friends in this town would take him in. No family he knew of. No job, no money, and now no possessions. Zima Svet promised a job and a new place to live. It was a trap, had to be... What did it matter now? He had no other options and nothing else to lose. With a shiver, he pulled himself up off the ground. The fire trucks were coming into view far down the road. The trucks were rolling along at a leisurely pace.
Zima Svet led him around in a wide girth around the flaming structure and made for the forest. A few yards from the fire and winter’s cold bite enveloped Mikhail. He wondered how far they had to walk before the trap was sprung. Well, he thought darkly, whatever police car they put him in was sure to be warmer than the woods.
“Here,” Zima Svet said, handing him a ball of some morsel. “Eat this.”
Even though Mikhail was expecting a trap, he was so cold and exhausted he took the ball and nibbled a bite off it. Powdered sugar… some sort of cookie. He gladly ate the whole thing. “Where are we going Zima? I hope it’s a long way from here.” Siberia came to mind…
“It is,” the teen replied, watching Mikhail eat the cookie. “You’ll feel a little dizzy soon, but tomorrow you’ll wake up and forget all about this night’s… unpleasantness.”
“Good,” yawned Mikhail. “I don’t want to remember anything!” Adrenalin must be wearing off he thought. Zima Svet took him firmly by the arm, steering him deeper into the trees. The fire was dying down but still illuminated the woods enough to see by. Something silvery, or maybe misty was floating between the trees. A round swirling… something. The other kept Mikhail walking right into it, and they vanished!
 
* * *
Mistletoe Green sat in his chair waiting patiently for the information to arrive this afternoon. Not that he was impatient, certainly not. The purple hat elf was never impatient, so long as things went according to plan… his plan. Drumming his fingers on the desk absently, he peered around the office while considering his next move.
His office was small like himself yet managed to be imposing. Perhaps it was the meticulous arrangement of the furniture or the lack of any sort of clutter. The only items in the office were the desk, chair, and two large