Page 30 of Christmas Eve with Krampus

Merry fucking Christmas, Josie.

CHAPTER 9

FOREVER

A YEAR LATER

Do you know how hard it is to get a bag of oranges in Blackmoor?

That was my goof. I didn’t want to take up my limited luggage space by packing fruit, figuring that I can stop in one of the oblivious towns in between Blackmoor and the rundown, quiet airport about thirty miles away from the dark forest.

Sandra was able to offer me one last year before they stood back and watched as I walked into the woods. Even if Blackmoor doesn’t exist to anyone but those invited—and those who invite themselves back—the rest of the world does. Getting a bag of oranges should’ve been simple.

Despite navel oranges being in season this time of year, it seemed like every shop I hit was fresh out. Luckily, the taxi driver was a gem who didn’t mind taking a couple of detours until I had a sack of them.

The sack was a nice touch. I thought Ruprecht would appreciate that.

And, if any of the Blackmoor council members try to stop me from walking back into the forest again, I have a makeshift weapon. Ten pounds of oranges to the head should be enough to get them to think twice about keeping me and Ruprecht apart.

Not like I’m expecting any trouble. After Jacques accompanied me on the drive over to the airport last year, the dark-skinned council member who’d watched me so curiously before I went into the forest passed me a note as they let me out of the car.

Ich habe mich in dich verliebt.

Lassen sie sich zeit.

— R

Ruprecht.

I didn’t read it until I was in the airport waiting area. But that, coupled with the only thing Jacques said to me after introducing himself, and the next year of my life was planned before the sun ever set on December 26th.

Now, it’s almost a full year later, and the same three council members are standing between me and the forest.

Jacques steps forward, smiling at me warmly. “You took the council up on its offer.”

Even now, I remember exactly what he said in his solemn voice before I opened the door to the car.

You passed the three days. You’ll get what you came here for. But if you choose to return… Blackmoor will always welcome its own.

It took me a while to understand what he meant. At first, I thought he was referring to the village itself—but the longer I spent in Alabama, pretending like my life wasn’t changed… that I wasn’t fundamentally changed after those three days last Christmas… I knew better.

Blackmoor is all of it. The village with its council members acting like a vetting agency. The outer reaches that conceal the hidden town. And, of course, the mythical forest itself. The legends that call it home… that’s Blackmoor, too.

And, after my time inside of it, so am I.

“I did.”

He waves his hand to the side, gesturing me toward the dark woods. “They always do.”

Now, magic is real. I spent three memorable days with a Christmas demon and a pervy Santa Claus. It’s real—but only in Blackmoor.

I learned that one the moment I left the woods. When Sandra immediately brought out my knapsack and luggage, shock written on the older woman’s face as though she never expected to see me again, to Ken explaining how I’ll get my prize, it didn’t take long to understand that the magic stops as soon as you leave Blackmoor’s borders.

Sure, I was five grand richer, but my hip still twitched as I walked away from the forest. It actually got worse as the effects of Ruprecht’s healing tongue wore off. But the council promised me a wish if I beat them at their game, and even if it wasn’t as simple as snapping my fingers and the pain was gone, they upheld their end of the bargain.

How? By paying every last scent for my hip replacement surgery and the ten months of recovery that followed.

I don’t know where they got the funds from. More magic, maybe, but so long as the checks to my orthos and the home health aids cleared, I didn’t care. I went into this agreement determined to do whatever it took to ease my pain.

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