Krampus: The Three Sisters (The Krampus Chronicles Book 1) (31 page)

The momentum from the stampede knocked Maggie to the ground. Still cradling the Horologe in her arms, a blur of stomping hooves and dusty air whirled around her body. Maggie squeezed her eyes shut. It wasn’t until the sound of galloping had moved into the distance was she able sit up and peer back down the road.

The silver and brown whirlwind reached the church, breaking up the battle that had been in progress. The Seneca Villagers and the Foundlings had managed to dive out of the way in time, but Castriot urged the Garrisons to stand and fight. However, the overwhelmed Garrisons instead took off running as the cloud of deer and horsemen reached them. The Garrisons delivered one last fighting cry before collapsing under the force of the mysterious storm that carried them down the road. And then with one final
swoosh
, the silver phantoms disappeared, taking the Garrisons away with them.

Maggie remained on the ground, an arm protectively draped over the unharmed Horologe. But then a shadow emerged out of the corner of her eye. She turned away from the church and back down the road where the stampede had started.

There was still one hazy figure standing in the mist. Its gray form was featureless, but appeared to be the silhouette of a man.

“Nikolaos,” Maggie whispered.

The apparition didn’t respond. And a moment later, the figure turned and soundlessly disappeared into the fog.

Maggie didn’t hear the rush of feet behind her and jumped when Catharine and Louis appeared at her side.

“Are your hurt, Maggie?” Catharine asked, studying her sister with concern.

“I… I…” Maggie still gazed down the road.

“Come along,” Louis said, helping her up. “We must get back to the others.”

Hostrupp was first to greet Maggie as she approached the church.

“The Horologe!” he squealed. “Oh, goodness, goodness, thank goodness it is not damaged!”

Hostrupp took it out of Maggie’s arms and embraced it affectionately.

Houten wobbled forward. “You fool,” he snarled. “Have you nothing to say to the one that saved Poppel?”

Hostrupp looked up at Maggie, embarrassed. “Oh, yes. Sorry. So sorry. You were tremendous. Those trousers ended up working quite marvelously for you. Just marvelous, marvelous.”

Houten tapped Maggie’s knee with his cane. “You all right, little duck?”

Maggie looked past the church where the apparitions and Garrisons had vanished.

“The Martyrs of Gorkum…”

Houten nodded. “You brought them back.”

“But what about Nikolaos of Myra?” Louis asked. “Wasn’t he supposed to return?”

Before Maggie could mention she had seen Nikolaos, or at least some ghostly man she believed to be him, a loud eruption came from the side of the road. Maggie looked over where Clemmie had Francis by the arm. Her brother was giving Francis the biggest scolding she had ever heard.

“Really, Francis, of all the stupid, most selfish and senseless acts you have ever done! What did you think would happen? You would be King of Poppel? Wear a crown? Honestly, that you would even consider putting your family in danger. Oh, if I had a birchen rod right here I would spank the skin off your behind! You must be the worst boy that ever lived!”

Gardiner and Gertrude were huddled nearby, watching the scolding with wide eyes.

“Seriously, someone fetch me a rod,” Clemmie continued, flailing his arms. “I need to whack some sense into my cousin.”

Catharine tried to calm her brother down. “Clemmie, that is not going to help the situation…”

Lloyd, Wendell, and Harriet were clustered together in the background. It wasn’t until Maggie neared did she see that they were looking over the wounded. Albers was among those on the ground having his arm rebandaged while Nellie sat next to him, lovingly stroking his graying hair.

Maggie suddenly realized she had yet to see Violet, and she frantically looked around.

“Violet,” she called. “Violet!”

Eventually, a familiar caramel-toned face appeared through the crowd of villagers.

Violet ran up to Maggie. “You pushed me down.”

“I am sorry for doing that. I just didn’t want the Garrisons to hurt you.”

Violet smiled. “We won, didn’t we?”

“Yes, we did. And all thanks to you,” Maggie said. “You were very brave.”

“You both were.” Madame Welles marched over to the two girls. “The Sister Wheels have been reunited at last. And thanks to the Martyrs of Gorkum, the Garrisons are no more. I just wish Nikolaos of Myra would have returned as well.”

Maggie’s eyes widened. “But I saw him. At least, I believe it was Nikolaos. He appeared just briefly. And then he left.”

“He left?” Madame Welles’ voice sounded troubled.

“Yes,” Maggie replied, waiting for Madame Welles to elaborate. “Is something wrong?”

“It’s just… he was supposed to return. And if he’s not then…” Madame Welles trailed off before forcing a tense smile. “Well, Castriot is gone. That is what matters for now.”

“But what will happen to Poppel?” Maggie asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, won’t the city eventually realize that the Garrisons are gone?”

Madame Welles looked past Maggie where some villagers were tending to McNutt’s leg.

“We have one Garrison.” The old woman smiled. “And that is all we need. The city officials will still have a contact.”

“What about us?”

Maggie turned around to see an exhausted Henry staggering over. Her pulse quickened and she fought the urge to embrace him.

“What becomes of the Van Cortlandt descendants?” Henry asked. “Are we not to return to Poppel?”

Madame Welles stiffened. “You have done a great service to your family and city, and especially to Poppel. But yes, you are not to return.” Madame Welles then added a bit more quietly, “I hope, in the most sincere and grateful manner, that we will never meet again, for if our paths were not to cross in our remaining time on this earth, I know that all is well.”

Before returning to Chelsea Manor, the Van Cortlandt descendants paid a final visit to Poppel. After all, the Horologe still needed to be returned.

Everyone crowded into Kleren until it was at capacity, forcing the remaining Foundlings to spill out onto Myra Lane. Maggie stood between Henry and Catharine as they watched Hostrupp place the Horologe back onto its rightful wall.

An unsettling realization struck Maggie. She leaned over to Henry and whispered, “So now that the wheels are reunited, does that mean that those in Poppel… can live forever?”

Henry looked at her with growing eyes, containing both fear and amazement. He scanned the Foundlings in the room as though their appearances might reveal the answer.

A soft cough sounded above Maggie’s head. She turned to find Laszlo standing nearby. She had nearly forgotten about the workshop leader. He stared vacantly at the recently hung Horologe with his arms placed behind his back.

“All right,” Hostrupp chirped, clapping his hands together. “Everyone must exit Kleren. Out out out! That is… everyone except for the Van Cortlandt descendants.”

Slowly, the Foundlings filed out the shop. As the room emptied, the Moore grandchildren looked about with uncertainty, wondering what else could possibly be asked of them.

Hostrupp closed the door after the last Foundling left and then spun around. He clapped once more. “Now then! There are some final pieces of business that must be settled. Yes, yes. Just a few last things.”

“Please don’t tell me there was a fourth sister and we must head to Canada to retrieve her wheel,” Clemmie muttered with an exhausted sigh.

Madame Welles cackled at Clemmie. Her laughter not only surprised the others in the shop, but also herself. It sounded as though she hadn’t laughed in many years.

“Do not fear, Clemmie. All of you have done more than we could have ever hoped.” Madame Welles nodded to Houten who waddled over to the group carrying a worn, leather pouch.

“You two!” Houten shook his cane at Maggie and Henry. “Come here and reach inside.”

Maggie and Henry hesitantly stepped forward as Houten jiggled the pouch in front of them. “Don’t be shy.”

Henry reached in first, followed by Maggie. Their hands briefly touched, but before Maggie’s cheeks could turn fully pink, her fingers grazed a tiny, hard surface.

Maggie and Henry locked eyes before pulling out their hands that grasped objects they knew too well.

The Sister Wheels.

Maggie glanced down at the wheel in her hand. A large
G
gleamed up at her while Henry studied Sarah’s wheel. Maggie looked closer at Henry’s hand. He also had grabbed the Horologe key.

“We decided long ago that if all the Sister Wheels ever had to be reunited in the Horologe to protect Poppel that we would never keep them there,” Madame Welles explained. “We would like you to take Grace’s and Sarah’s when you leave.”

“You mean you’re forsaking immortality?” Catharine asked.

“No good would come from that,” Madame Welles declared. “And besides, the wheels were meant to stay with the Van Cortlandt descendants.”

Although Maggie and Henry agreed, a gloomy silence fell over the room. There was now nothing left to say but goodbye.

As Hostrupp opened the front door of the shop, an unexpected rumbling of celebration filled the room. The Foundlings were cheering for the descendants.

Clemmie and Louis were the first ones to walk back onto Myra Lane. As a roaring applause overtook the crowd, the pair looked back at their cousins in astonishment. Neither Henry nor any of the Moore grandchildren had ever been the recipients of such appreciation.

Francis and the twins were next to leave Kleren, followed by Maggie, Catharine and Henry. Maggie searched the crowd for familiar faces. She eventually spotted Lloyd, Wendell, and Harriet near the front window of Snop, but her heart sunk when she remembered she would never see Ward again.

As they made their way through the crowd, a pair of small arms found Maggie’s waist.

“I don’t want you to leave,” Violet murmured, hugging Maggie.

“It’s all right,” Maggie said, stroking Violet’s curly hair. “I’m sure we will see each other again.”

When Maggie managed to separate Violet from her body, Laszlo slipped out in front of her.

“You must place the wheels somewhere safe, you understand.” Laszlo’s voice was no longer emotionless. Instead it was heavy with concern. “You never know when they may have to be reunited again.” Laszlo’s piercing eyes gazed past Maggie. She turned around to see that Laszlo had also been addressing Henry who was standing behind her. “It would be unwise not to take advantage of this opportunity.”

Laszlo then disappeared into the crowd, leaving Maggie feeling quite puzzled. She stared up at Henry who seemed equally confused. But then he placed his hand tenderly upon Maggie’s shoulder and said with a smile, “Well, we couldn’t very well leave Poppel without one final strange encounter, now could we?”

s the noon sun dangled over New York City, flicking its Christmas daylight onto the white hill of Chelsea Manor, Maggie and the other grandchildren strolled down the gravel avenue in a dreamy stupor. Clemmie carried Gertrude on his back while Gardiner clung to Catharine’s hand and sleepily rubbed his eyes with a small fist. Francis lagged behind his cousins, head down with hands stuffed into his pockets and feet dragging over the uneven road.