“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this excited, Zoey!” her father said, chuckling as his daughter pulled them along the snowy sidewalk.

 

“It’s so cool, Dad! And you won’t believe it until you see it!” Zoey danced in front of them, her braids flying around her head. She’d requested white bows today, and Donna had found ribbon with silver snowflakes on them. The silvery bits sparkled in the weak midday sun.

 

They came upon CrossWinds Books and Zoey cried, “Look! See what we did? Isn’t it pretty?”

 

Donna and Peter Allard stared. The large front windows of the bookstore were covered with a blizzard of snowflakes. Large, small, all intricately cut out.

 

“What do you think?” Zoey asked anxiously, when they didn’t say anything. “Do you like it?”

 

“Oh sweetie, it’s lovely!” Donna knelt down and hugged her daughter. “We’re just surprised – that’s a LOT of snowflakes!”

 

“It took us all day yesterday,” Zoey told her, hugging her back. “We worked really hard on it!”

 

“You guys did a great job,” said a new voice behind them, and they all turned to see Lily and Jack coming down the street with Nathan and Corrine in tow. Nathan shook Peter’s hand and continued, “I couldn’t believe the pictures Molly sent to me on my phone last night, but I can’t argue with what I’m seeing before me. You should be very proud of yourselves.”

 

Jack barked, and Lily and Zoey glowed at the praise.

 

“Now, let’s get inside,” Corrine said. “I know your aunt Molly will have hot chocolate and cider waiting for us, and it’s cold.”

 

“Oh, maybe it will be cold enough for Old Man Winter to come and visit!” Lily said, skipping ahead to get the door. “That would be magnificent!”

 

“Says you.” Nathan chuckled. “You didn’t have to shovel the snow last year.”

 

“Isn’t that why Mom bought you a snowblower?” Lily asked, her eyes twinkling. “So we don’t have to worry about snow?”

 

“Someone still has to run said snowblower, and I don’t see you doing it,” he reminded her, and she giggled.

 

“I wish he would come,” Zoey said wistfully. “He sounds very cool.”

 

“In more ways than one,” Lily said, grinning. “But he was very nice.”

 

“Who was?” Molly asked, just hearing the last bit of their conversation as everyone entered the kitchen. Zoey thought that Molly’s kitchen was just perfect – it was never crowded, even when it was full of people, and it was warm and welcoming. Just like Molly herself. Zoey wondered if that was the magic everyone kept talking about.

 

Maybe someday, I’ll have magic too, she thought wistfully.

 

Schrodinger nudged her gently. You have magic already, he said. Look at your painting.

 

That’s not magic, she said.

 

Isn’t it? He tilted his head at her. Are you sure?

 

And she didn’t have an answer to that.

 

“So this is the magic Advent Calendar,” Peter said, as they gathered around it. He touched it gently. “Did I ever tell you about the Advent Calendar I had as a child, Zoey?”

 

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “Was it magic?”

 

“Well, not like this one,” Peter said. “Instead of a painting like this, mine was a house, and each day was a different room. There was a Santa Claus, and he started at the beginning of the month on the chimney. He went through the entire house, and on Christmas Day, he would be in the living room with the Christmas tree.” He smiled, a distant look on his face, and Zoey knew he was seeing the old Advent Calendar. “I wonder what happened to it.”

 

“It probably got worn out,” Donna said fondly. “It’s been a long time since you were Zoey’s age.”

 

“True.” He smiled at his wife and daughter. “Well, who’s going to show us how this works?”

 

“It’s Schrodinger’s turn today,” Lily said. “Come on, Schrodinger!”

 

They all moved back so the CrossCat could look at the picture. “It’s a bit hard, because the numbers are all hidden,” Zoey whispered to her father. “We have to help Jack, because he’s not good with colors. But Schrodinger can see them himself.”

 

Oh, here it is! Schrodinger said finally. Number 8 was hidden in the open mouth of the angel who hovered in one of the corners. Zoey hadn’t seen her before – she was all in white, and blended into the snowbank she seemed to be floating above. Schrodinger touched his nose to the number, and then stepped back.

 

“Oh my god,” Zoey heard her mother whisper as the paint around the number crumbled, and the snowflake came out. “It really is magic.”

 

“It is,” Molly agreed. “Welcome to Carter’s Cove.”

 

The snowflake hovered in front of them, and Zoey stuck her hand out. The snowflake spun and exploded, and four brass ornaments, shaped like musical notes, fell into her outstretched plan.

 

“Ooh,” Lily said, looking at them. “How pretty!”

 

“So what is the adventure today?” Zoey asked, confused. “The snowflake didn’t take us anywhere!”

 

And then, from the floor above, she heard a single voice raised in song. It was clear and pure, just the way Zoey imagined an angel would sound, and the notes in her hand vibrated.

 

“I think we should go upstairs,” she said. “I think the notes want us to.”

 

Then let’s go! Schrodinger said, leading them out of the kitchen and up the same stairs they had climbed yesterday to the second floor of the bookstore.

 

Zoey’s eyes went immediately to the mail box, still sitting beside the massive fireplace. However, today the tables had been moved around, and in the center of the room was the source of the singing.

 

There were people standing around her, but Zoey could only focus on the singer. She was dark-skinned, with long dark hair that was braided away from her face and fell down in a loose fall to the middle of her back. There were intricate tattoos on her face, and when she looked at them, Zoey saw that instead of irises, she had stars in her dark eyes.

 

She was beautiful.

 

Schrodinger nudged her, and Zoey came out of her trance long enough to follow the others into the room. They were the first ones there and as she moved, she saw who else was standing in the middle of the floor, besides the singer.

 

They were a choir, she guessed, because they all wore long open robes of dark green. Father Christopher was there, also in a robe, but he had something that looked like the magic wands she’d seen in books. “What IS this?” she asked.

 

“This is the Carter’s Cove Christmas Choir,” Lily said. “They sing here every year! And they come to the school, too, right before we get out for winter break!” She gave a little wiggle of excitement. “And they have both Starsha and Darien here this year!”

 

“Who’s Darien?” Zoey asked, looking around, her eyes getting wide. There were …well, she wasn’t sure what some of them were. There were people like her and Lily, but there was one centaur (a centaur!), three little men that she was pretty sure were dwarves, and two ladies who had green skin and long, wispy fingers. And the singer with the starry eyes, who Zoey was pretty sure was Starsha.

 

“He’s the elf standing next to Starsha,” Lily told her, nodding at the young woman who had first sung. “He’s really neat, and they sing beautifully together.” She looked around the room. “Come on, let’s go over by the fireplace. We’ll get to see everything from there.”

 

Zoey stopped staring at the older gentleman with long silver braids long enough to follow Lily over to the hearth, where they sat down. Schrodinger curled up beside her, and Jack laid down next to Lily. “He’s an elf? Like who works at the North Pole?”

 

Schrodinger gave a snort. Not quite, he said kindly. You know how there are different races of humans? Well, there are different races of elves too. Darien’s people come from a land that is a lot like the Cove – I think if he had to live in snow all year round, he’d be very unhappy. Besides, he’s too tall.

 

Lily and Zoey started to giggle at that. The mental image of the tall, stately man on his knees painting toys was just too funny to keep in.

 

“And what are you four giggling about?” Molly asked, coming over.

 

Schrodinger snorted again. Darien as Santa’s helper. And that sent Lily and Zoey into gales of laughter.

 

Molly joined in, and it took Father Christopher giving them a look to stop. Which he did, because it was time for the concert to start.

 

Zoey looked around the room – it was nearly full, with shoppers amid the bookshelves, and a lot of people standing around or sitting in the armchairs, all looking at the choir. Father Christopher raised his wand, and pointed it at Starsha.

 

The entire world fell away as the first notes came out of her mouth, liquid and sparkling. Once again, the brass ornaments that Zoey held clutched in her hand, almost forgotten, shivered, and she looked down at them in wonder. Then she handed two to Lily, and one to Molly. Before she forgot.

 

That done, she was free to turn her attention back to the music. Darien had begun to sing as well, his baritone weaving in and around the melody of her soprano. It was magic – another kind of magic, and Zoey began to realize what Schrodinger had been trying to tell her earlier. Perhaps there were more types of magic than she’d realized.

 

During the intermission, Lily dragged Zoey and her parents over to meet Starsha, Darien and the rest of the choir. Zoey hung back a little, but the lovely singer leaned down and smiled. “Welcome to the Cove, Zoey,” she said, and her voice was warm and rich. It was almost as if she sang every word. “How are you enjoying your new home?”

 

“It’s amazing,” she said shyly. “I never knew there were such things in this world!”

 

Starsha nodded. “I understand,” she said. “I too, lived most of my life in a small village with little contact with the other realms. Coming here to study with Master Darien was a bit of a shock.”

 

“One you weathered quite well, once you understood that we weren’t going to hate you for being different,” Darien said, coming over. He shook hands with Zoey and her parents when Lily introduced them. “In truth, that’s why I like living here.” He waved a hand at the room. “After all, where else can you meet such diverse comrades, without it being a bloody war?”

 

“Very true,” Peter said. He smiled. “I grew up in a CrossRoads town, but we only had an industrial Gate, so we didn’t get as many visitors as come through the Cove. But I’m so glad we had the opportunity to move here.” He took his wife’s hand and squeezed it. “This will give us all chances we would never have elsewhere.”

 

“Very true,” Donna said. Her face was a little pale, and Zoey realized that her mother was having to reassess some things. Magic had never been discussed in her family before moving to the Cove, and for the first time, Zoey wondered why. Was it because her mother had never really believed in it?

 

Some people have a hard time believing in things that they can’t see, Schrodinger told her. Some people just need evidence. He looked at Starsha and Darien. The Cove has evidence that’s hard to refute.

 

Zoey stroked his head. I wonder if that’s why she doesn’t believe in Santa, she thought. Because she never saw him.

 

Could be. Or it could be because she saw or heard something that shattered her belief. Molly says in many places, children stop believing because they don’t ever catch him. Schrodinger sighed. I wish everyone could see the magic like we could.

 

Me too. Zoey looked up at her mother. Do you think she could learn to believe again?

 

Anything is possible.

 

Luckily, Darien had the conversation well in hand, and by the time the intermission was over, Donna’s color had returned to normal, and she was even chuckling at some of his stories. Then Father Christopher clapped his hands together, and everyone not in the choir retreated to the edges of the room.

 

After the end of the concert, Zoey and Schrodinger sat and watched as the choir filed out. You should have them write letters to Santa, Schrodinger told her. It’s the only way to make sure they get what they want for Christmas, you know.

 

Zoey looked at her parents, wondering if they would. Her mother had always insisted Santa wasn’t real, but that was before the Cove. “You’re right,” she said, and got up before she could think too much more about it.

 

“We have one more thing we have to do before we leave!” she announced to her parents.

 

“Besides buying some of Molly’s cookies?” Peter said.

 

“Okay, two things.” Zoey wasn’t about to pass up any of Molly’s cookies. “But before we do that, you have to write your letters.”

 

“Letters?” Donna looked puzzled, but let her daughter lead her over to the table.

 

“To Santa. You have to write to Santa.” Zoey looked seriously at her mother. “So you get what you want for Christmas.”

 

For a moment, she thought Donna would argue. After all, there hadn’t ever been a Santa in their house before, and this was the first year Zoey had ever written her own letter. But now that she knew the magic existed, Zoey was more than half-way convinced that Santa was real too. After all, Lily and Schrodinger and Jack had all seen him.

 

“Please?” she said, when she saw Donna wavering. “Please?”

 

“What can it hurt?” Peter said, looking at his wife. He reached for one of the cards.

 

After a moment, Donna did the same, and Zoey smiled.

This was going to be the best Christmas ever.