Today’s entry is a worrying one for me.  Why?  Because I’m changing the story.  Well, not the story, per se.  But the feel of the story.  And I worry that you guys, the ones who adored the first one, won’t like it.

Note that doesn’t mean that I haven’t written it.  I have.  And I’m going to continue this theme, at least for this Advent story.

But I worry, you know.  I worry that I’ve changed too much.  That I’ve changed the tone too much.

I hope you still like it.

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The world was dark. And painful. Drew swam up through the inky blackness, feeling every muscle and tendon in his body begin to protest as he came back to the world a piece at a time. The darkness resolved itself into his eyelids at last, and he steeled himself for more pain when he opened his eyes.

At least whoever had kidnapped him had had the decency to give him a room with an actual bed. And he wasn’t tied up – in fact, he was snuggled under a massive down comforter in a bed that could have easily fit him, Molly, Schrodinger and about four of their closest friends. It was soft and warm, and Drew had to fight the temptation to just sink back into unconsciousness. The only thing that kept him from doing that was the need to find out what had happened.

He struggled up to a seated position, his head spinning a bit as he moved. Concussion, probably, he thought, touching the spot on his jaw where the giant that had surprised him at the cabin had hit him. Running his hand over the back of his head, Drew found a matching spot from where he had hit the floor and winced. He sat for a couple of minutes, trying to see if there were any other injuries he’d sustained.

There weren’t. Other than the two lumps on his head, he hadn’t been beaten. The aches in his body were muscular, probably from being carried over the giant’s shoulder, but there were no cuts, no obvious wounds.

Which means they want me alive. Whoever they are. Drew squinted through the dimness of the room, trying to see if he was the only person in the room. He was. As his eyes adjusted to the subdued lighting, Drew realized the room was large, a bedroom that one might have found in a luxury hotel. Two large bookcases loomed out of the twilight, bracketing a fireplace that had the dim glow of coals nestled in its heart. There was a desk under what Drew realized was a large window. And there was a door.

He slipped from the bed stiffly, wondering how long he’d been unconscious. There was a furry feeling to his tongue that suggested he might have been drugged after he’d been knocked out, and his reactions were still a bit fuzzy, but he was relatively steady on his feet after a moment of swaying. Drew made a beeline for the door, hoping against hope that this was just a mistake, a bad dream…

The door was locked.

Drew leaned against the door, his forehead pressed against the cool wood, and cursed under his breath. Of course it was locked. Whoever took me wants me alive, but out of the way, he thought. But why? Why me? It’s not like I’m anyone important. I’m just a Gate tech. No one special.

His mind flitted to Molly. She would be frantic by now, if she wasn’t royally pissed off at him for not showing up at the Christmas tree farm. He hoped Lai had covered for him – no, Molly wouldn’t be pissed, she’d be worried sick. She knew he wouldn’t stand her up.

Gotta get home, Drew thought, pushing himself off the door and turning to look at the room again. There had to be something here he could use to get out. I am NOT missing the Christmas season with Molly and Schrodinger. Not an option. There has to be some way to get out. And get to a Gate. And get home.

Odd how quickly the small town of Carter’s Cove had become home to him. It was so similar and yet so different from the CrossRoads town in the Midwest he’d grown up in. When he’d come to the Cove last year, he’d been counting down the days until he could transfer out, to one of the big towns on the West Coast.

And then he’d met Molly, and Schrodinger, and lost his heart. And his mind, one of his buddies from the Academy had kidded him, but Drew didn’t care. He no longer wanted to be an engineer in one of the big Gate Stations. He wanted to stay in Maine, with its weather and odd inhabitants and Yankee proclivities. He wanted to stay with Molly.

Now I just need to figure out where I am, and see how close a Road is, he decided, striding over to the window. Yanking the curtains aside, Drew blinked at the sudden sunlight. When his eyes adjusted and he saw what lay just beyond the glass, he groaned.

Snow. Ice and snow and clear blue sky as far as the eye could see, tumbling down the sides of what appeared to be a mountain. The snowfields, full of ancient pine trees clad in white, marched off into the distance, disappearing into the horizon. Above, the sun (only one sun, he noted) shimmered in the middle of a cloudless sky.

There would be no escape via the window. The ground was nearly twenty feet below him, and there were no trees close enough that he could jump to. If he could open the window, which didn’t seem possible. He cursed and banged his hand against the window.

“That’s not the usual reaction I get from my house guests,” said a light voice from behind him, and Drew whirled around, astonished. He hadn’t heard the door open or close.

But he was definitely not alone anymore, and the door was still shut tight. However, standing in the middle of the room, surrounded by a pale light that seemed to emanate from within, was the slender form of the Snow Queen.

Her silver-blonde hair was intricately braided and wrapped around her head, a cushion for her small platinum and diamond crown to rest upon. He’d only seen her up close once, at the Ball last Christmas, dressed in a beautiful gown, but she was just as impressive in the simple dark green dress she was currently wearing. A cape of fur, lightly dusted with snow, lay across her shoulders.

“House guest?” Drew said finally, after he’d gaped at her for a few minutes. The fur she wore reminded him of the giant that had attacked him, although he couldn’t say why. “Funny, I don’t feel like a house guest. Maybe it’s because I’m locked in here, and can’t leave.”

The Snow Queen looked at him, her face shadowed with sorrow, or regret. He couldn’t decide which. “I am sorry for that,” she said. “It was necessary, I promise you.”

“Was it?” Now Drew was getting annoyed. “Why? I haven’t done anything to you.”

“No, you haven’t,” she agreed. “And I am sorry that you have been embroiled in this, Drew. But this was the only way.”

“The only way to do what?”

Her next words sent an icicle through his heart. “The only way to save Carter’s Cove from destruction.”

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“So, my fine, furred friend, what shall we do today?”

Molly toyed with the remains of her scrambled eggs and looked down at Schrodinger, who was finishing up his first bowl of Earl Grey. They had both slept in, as was their wont on their off days, and had taken a leisurely breakfast as they watched the snow fall. The light snow from the night before had turned into a steady snow storm, and Molly wondered how many new feet of snow they would end up with before it ended. It had the feel of a storm that was settling in for a long visit.

The CrossCat sat back on his haunches and brushed a paw over his whiskers, getting the last drops of tea from them. We have to make cookies, he said. But we’ll need to take a walk too.

Molly nodded. “I’m out of powdered sugar, and I’d like to get some more cranberries,” she said. “Maybe I’ll make cranberry muffins later today.”

And when we go out to the store, we could stop by the Station, Schrodinger said. Find out more about when they expect Drew back.

“Yes.” Molly got up and picked up their breakfast dishes. She rinsed them off and then put them in the dishwasher. “Let me take a shower and we’ll head out.”

It took a little bit longer than that, of course. They couldn’t show up at the Gate Station empty-handed. Molly had learned that the best way for her to get information from the Gate techs and engineers was with a full picnic basket of homemade goodies, and she happened to have some amaretto brownies that she’d made for just such an occasion.

She and Schrodinger trudged through the snow, feeling the crisp air against their skin, a fabric shopping bag over her shoulder with the pan of brownies and a tin of sugar cookies in it. The Gate Station was only a few minutes’ walk from her apartment in the summer, but in the winter, it took them almost fifteen minutes to get to the large mansion that housed the main Gate of Carter’s Cove.

Once the town was large enough to merit a full Station (as opposed to just a way station, which is what many of the smaller Gates still had), the Gate had been enclosed within a large brick mansion that could not only house the Gate but also the personnel needed to keep it running smoothly.

Molly and Schrodinger trudged up the long, winding driveway, enjoying the snow sculptures that had been erected on the rolling lawns that surrounded the Station. The Station personnel tried to outdo themselves every year, and this year was Molly’s favorite so far. The theme had been Christmas Past, and the lawn was dotted with singing snowmen carrying lit candles (courtesy of a small magical cantrip that kept the flames flickering without melting the wax or the snowmen in question), a sleigh with snowmen, pulled by snow reindeer, and other fantastical objects. In the falling snow, it was like walking through a dream.

The house itself reared out of the snow, decked in green and gold garlands and thousands of icicle lights hanging from its roof and towers. Molly remembered Drew’s groans of pain the night he’d come home after they’d hung the lights – rather than use magic to hang them, Mal had insisted on ladders. And had then retreated to his office to let the “younger, stronger members of the staff” actually do the work.

The wreath on the front door had glass candy canes and peppermint starlites on it, almost glowing against the dark evergreen boughs. Molly didn’t knock, but opened the door and let Schrodinger bound in ahead of her.

Hi Heidi! he called, even as he paused on the mat inside the foyer to shake all the snow from his fur. Then he ran into the main entryway to greet the receptionist

“Hi Schrodinger!” Heidi replied, putting down her book and pushing her glasses back up on her nose. She was a dark-haired older woman with twinkling grey eyes, a friendly smile and a drawer full of treats for the CrossCat and any of the other nonhumans who visited the Station. On his pillow beside the reception desk, her old tabby cat Porter raised his head and meowed a welcome.

Schrodinger paused by Porter, touching noses in welcome, and then rubbed up against Heidi’s leg. Did you miss me?

“I always miss you!” Heidi told him, stroking his head. “Porter and I love to have you come by.” She smiled at Molly, who had finished knocking the snow off herself and had joined them. “Hi, Molly!”

“Hi.” Molly smiled at her. “Any news about Drew?”

Heidi’s smile faltered a little, and she shook her head. “Not yet. Mal and Tom Senior have been working overtime all night, trying to bring the Gate back on line, but for some reason, they just can’t get the Road to reconnect there.”

“Have you ever heard of that happening?” Molly asked her.

Heidi shook her head, but Schrodinger nodded. Sometimes the paths of the Roads, they change, he said. If the Road has shifted far enough, it might go to a different place, so the Gate won’t have the right coordinates to ground it anymore.

“So how do you fix that?” Molly said.

Build a new Gate, Schrodinger said. And hope that something opens up to the old Gate at some point, so you don’t waste the arch.

Molly swallowed. “What about the people on the other side of the Gate that doesn’t work anymore?”

Schrodinger suddenly seemed to realize what he’d said. Oh, Molly, there are other ways to get to someone besides a Gate! He went and rubbed his head up next to her. Not everyone uses the Gates, and if there is a great need, Roads can be moved again. It just takes a lot of energy, and magic, and talent. Don’t worry. Drew isn’t lost forever. He’ll be back.

Mal said the same thing when she and Schrodinger went to deliver their goodies to the techs and engineers in the Gate Room. “Don’t worry, Molly,” the grizzled older man told her, switching his ever-present unlit pipe to the other side of his mouth. “We are not leaving anyone there. We’ll get that damn Gate open again.” He nodded towards the Gate, where a group of people with tablet computers, lit candles and smoking censors were doing various arcane things. “No matter how long it takes us.”

“That’s good to hear,” Molly said, handing him the wrapped pan of brownies and the tin of sugar cookies. “I’m baking later today, so I’ll send up some more supplies.”

“You do that, and maybe we’ll have to bring the boy back and stash him somewhere, so we can get more,” Mal teased her, but relented when she scowled at him. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” He reached out and laid a hand on her arm, his oddly light eyes serious for once. “I am sorry, Molly, that we had to send him. I know he wanted to spend this month with you, but I had no choice.”

“I know,” Molly said, turning to look at the Gate again, rather than at Mal. “He knew. It’s his job.”

Mal squeezed her arm. “We’ll get him back.”

Molly just nodded, still watching the group at the Gate, not trusting herself to speak. She heard him leave, presumably to put the treats in the kitchen where the others could help themselves, since he didn’t cross in front of her to join the techs and engineers at the Gate.

The Gate itself dominated the room, which was in what might have been a solarium in a normal mansion. Overhead, the massive glass roof let filtered light down to play along the curving granite-sheathed arches of the Gate, the second Gate to be used in Carter’s Cove, and the grass that carpeted the room.  Real grass, not AstroTurf or carpet, but real grass, keeping the Gate grounded to the land.

Like all the other children who had grown up in the town, Molly had learned how Captain James Carter had sailed into the Cove via a Sea Road, and discovered the first Gate, a simple stone circle high on the hill. How he had founded the town and fought off invaders who had attempted to invade by destroying that first Gate, and how his descendants had built this Gate to replace the ruined one, linking it to a new Road that allowed the Cove to grow and become a major hub in the area. Funny,she thought, watching as Tom Senior opened one of the panels on the side and squinted into the innards of the Gate. I never thought my life would depend on a Gate working this much. Not like this.

Schrodinger had trotted down to the group, his tail wagging and his ears swiveling. CrossCats were twice as curious as any house cat she’d met, and with his expertise on traveling the Roads, she had no doubt he was itching to help in any way he could. Only the fact that he’d promised not to go looking for Drew was keeping him with her at the moment, she knew.

However, that won’t stop him from offering advice to anyone who will listen, Molly thought, her lips twitching in a smile despite herself.

“They could do worse than listen to him,” said an unexpected voice from beside her.  “CrossCats are very sensitive to the paths of the Roads, and he might be able to sniff out a new track for them to use, if the Road truly has shifted.”

The scent of vanilla, peppermint and ice rushed over Molly as she turned to see the Snow Queen standing beside her, looking faintly amused.  It wasn’t unusual to see her in the Gate Room, especially in December, since she took an interest in the traffic for the Ball, but that was later in the season.  And she wasn’t usually alone, like now.  Molly blinked.

“Do you really think he could help?” she said, since it would have been rude to come out and say what she really wanted to, which was, “What the heck are you doing here, and why are you reading my mind?”

The Snow Queen laughed.  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to.  Sometimes I forget that not everyone can hear thoughts like I can.  I didn’t mean to intrude.”  She looked out at the CrossCat, who had sat near one of the other techs, leaning in to look over her shoulder into the panel that she was poking a long metal tool into.  “But yes, he is a valuable resource to them, if they realize it.”

Tom Senior turned and looked down at Schrodinger, clearly asking him something, although Molly couldn’t tell what.  Schrodinger cocked his head and then nodded.

“I knew they were smart,” the Snow Queen said.  “Now, Molly, while your little guardian is busy, I would like to speak with you, if I may.”  She looked around them pointedly.  “In private.”

“Me?” Molly blinked.  “Why?”

The Snow Queen turned and smiled at her.  “I have something for you.”

Molly’s eyebrows rose.  “You do?”

Linking her arm into Molly’s, the Snow Queen said, “Yes.”

There was little else Molly could do but walk alongside the woman.  Everyone took one look at them and got out of the way as the two walked along the grass to the door at the other end of the room, back the way Molly and Schrodinger had come in just a few minutes earlier.  Heidi looked up in surprise as they entered in the foyer, but didn’t say anything as the Snow Queen pulled Molly into one of the empty receiving rooms.  The front of the mansion had several rooms especially for travelers to rest and recover from their journeys before either going off onto the Roads again, or down to the Cove: they had several comfortable chairs grouped around a fireplace, a Keurig coffeemaker and a basketful of coffee, tea and hot chocolate cups, a couple of mugs, and a small table in the corner.  The Snow Queen pointed to one of the chairs; Molly sank into it, wondering what on earth one of the major personages of the Roads could have to say to her.

“You look scared,” the Snow Queen said, settling into the chair opposite her, shedding her fur cloak as she did so.  Her dark green dress was plain but exquisitely made; there was the faintest sparkle of silver shot through the fabric, and Molly could see the faintest patterning of snowflakes on the hem.  Her pale hair was braided in a coronet around her temples, holding her exquisite tiara in place.  Molly felt plain next to her radiance.

“Well, it’s not every day the Snow Queen asks for a private chat with me,” Molly said honestly.  “I’m not sure what I should be feeling.”

The Snow Queen laughed.  “I promise, I have good news for you,” she said.  “Would it make you feel more comfortable if I told you to just call me Jade?  The Snow Queen is such a formal lady, after all, and I’m not really feeling formal today.”

Molly eyed the tiara.  “That’s your everyday coronet?”

Jade laughed again, and waved her hand.  The tiara and cloak disappeared.  “Touche,” she said.  “Is that better?”

Molly opened her mouth to protest, and then shook her head.  “I…yes, yes, it is,” she said finally.  “How can I help you?”

“First, you can relax,” Jade said firmly.  “I’m bringing you good news.”

“Good news?”

“Yes.  I’ve just come from talking to Drew.”

That was NOT what Molly was expecting to hear.  She shot to her feet.  “Drew?  Where is he?  Is he okay?”

“He’s fine, Molly,” Jade said, pulling her back down.  Molly sat, unable to believe what she was hearing.  “He sends his love to you.”

“His love.”  Molly looked at her.  “When is he coming back?”

To her surprise, Jade looked sad.  “Not for a while, I’m afraid.”

“Why not?”

Jade sighed.  “Because I need him to do something for me, Molly.  Something very important, that only he can do.”  She leaned forward and laid a cool hand on Molly’s hand.  “I didn’t want to have to use him, but I have no choice.  I need you to understand, Molly.”

It was hard to resist the earnestness in her voice and her eyes.  Molly bit her lip.  “Why Drew?”

“Because he’s a good man,” Jade said softly.  “And that’s what we need to…” She trailed off, then shook her head.  “That’s what we need.”  She leaned back and reached down to the bag Molly hadn’t realized she was carrying under her cloak.  “But he wanted you to know that he’s still thinking of you.”

Molly accepted the silver ball numbly.  It was cold, as if it had been formed of the snow falling from the sky outside, and instead of Drew’s normal red envelope, there was a scrap of ribbon attached that he had written “Don’t Forget” on in his lovely calligraphy.   “You can’t tell me what he’s doing, can you?” she asked.

“No,” Jade said.  “I’m sorry.  But I can promise you it’s important.  Terribly important.”

 “Can you tell him something from me?” Molly said finally, after the silence had stretched for a few minutes, broken only by the crackling of the fire.

“Of course.”

“Tell him he owes me a Christmas tree.”  It was stupid, but that was the only thing she could think of that wouldn’t have her bawling.  Molly raised her chin.  “And that he better be back by Christmas Eve.”

Jade smiled.  “Done.”