One Eerie Blue Night...

Eerie blue shadows danced across the walls of the alleyway. A cat screeched. Cart wheels creaked on Main street. A woman screamed obscenities at a man. The crack of a whip was followed by the helpless whinny of an indignant carriage horse.

There were some things, Lugernot decided, he would not miss about his home. And that included most everything.

He stuck out his tongue and received a falling snowflake. It turned to salt in his mouth. Scrunching his nose, he spat. “You never know what you’re gonna get out there.”

“And that is half the fun.” His bowling ball companion, stuffed under a furred cap and knitted scarf so that only a brown pug nose and owl eyes showed, spoke so cheerfully you might expect him to add “hooray!” to the end of his speech.

Lugernot grimaced.

Goldfish, possibly named so for his bright, trusting gold eyes, bounced in his boots. Though Lugernot could hardly guess why fish was tagged on to the title. That’s how he considered all names. Titles. It was, after all, a way to identify a being. A something that did something. Wasn’t that what a title was?

Hah! He harrumphed. What do I know about such things. The Toymaker made them higher than me.

Goldfish rocked with impatience, disturbing Lugernot’s thoughts. He did not like to be disturbed in his thoughts. He considered his thoughts quite important because, outside of the little statue in his pocket and the clothes on his back, they were all he had.

“Can we go?” Goldfish sneezed. “I gets so cold when we stand still.” The oversized army jacket, dusty blue jeans, and crocheted scarf created such a likeness to a snowman that Lugernot couldn’t help wonder if the boy were one.

“Fine.” Lugernot pushed the boy forward and followed him out of the alley and into the hillside. A snowy field of crystallized beauty opened before them. Trees made of twisted metal with trunks as thick as the leg of an elephant reached for the clouds above. Falling snow coated the bare limbs like icing. Colorful orbs, glass and glowing with a light all of their own scattered on the white blanketed ground. A sweet, elfish music thrummed like a heartbeat, feeding life to the scene.

Even Lugernot could not help but have his mouth go dry. His heart rose to his throat, and he stepped out into the dark countryside. He hadn’t thought it possible, but it grew even colder than before. The chill bit through him like a blade’s point, and he knew about that pain. As the only two orphans in the city, him and Goldfish had been forced to be Mayor Rat’s dagger boys. The mayor would, for fun, throw knives while they danced out of the way and tried not to die. In three years, Lugernot had only been hit five times. All of them were to keep it from hitting Goldfish. It was reminding him of this debt that got Goldfish to accompany him on this harebrained scheme. A scheme he was doubting more and more by the minute. “How are we supposed to find the Toymaker?”

Goldfish edged closer to the older boy. “We just—”

Whatever they “just” were to do was interrupted by a lion. Quite literally. The massive beast dropped from the sky as gentle as a raindrop. Lugernot blinked. And swallowed. Then blinked again. The beast stayed put. It shook its full mane, spraying snow in all directions. Stepping forward on its massive paw, it pushed its nose against Lugernot’s chest and purred. With scandalous informality, the regal beast rubbed itself like a common housecat on Lugernot’s shirt.

“No. Down beasty. Bad king of the wild.” Lugernot said half-heartedly, his hands finding themselves petting the rock-like forehead.

Goldfish jumped forward to join. “He’s so soft. He can keep us warm.”

“I don’t think lions are made to act as blankets.” Lugernot’s simple prediction ended with the animal spinning on its heels and bounding into the mist.

“Do you think the Toymaker made him?”

“The Toymaker made everyone. That’s why we’re going to him. So he can tell us what we are.”

“But you’re a Lugernot,” Goldfish said with simple-minded frankness. “And I’m a Goldfish.”

“Do you have fins? Gills? Is any part of you, other than your eyes, golden? And who in Winter ever heard of a ‘Lugernot’? The dancers know what they are. It’s their name. So they dance. The Teddies know to comfort and eat lots of honey to be squishy. Even those Doll ladies paint and primp up with purpose. They were made for it. But what are we? Dagger boys? Is that all?”

“No,” said Goldfish in a voice that reminded Lugernot how young he still was.

“You can’t grasp such things yet. Just follow.”

They moved on, and soon the metal woods changed to real woods. Evergreens peered down upon them. The darkness thickened ominously. Swooshing and beating wings filled the forest as large birds flew and dove about. Their path was lit by moon-like orbs floating at random. On the trees, Sapphires sparkled while silver tinsel fringed bushy branches. On others, ruby red candy canes interspersed among green emeralds shone like funny shaped lanterns.

The elfish humming grew. Lugernot and Goldfish exchanged a glance of apprehension. Elves, although a sign that they were approaching their goal, didn’t usually mean anything good.

“Whooweeee!” The shout came from his right. Lugernot spun just in time to see a tiny, pointed cap creature swinging at him from out of a tree. It reached out its spindly arm and yanked a clump of curls from Lugernot’s thick hair. It laughed in a high-pitched squeal.

“Ow!” Lugernot raised a fist. “I hate elfs.” He growled.

Another one whooshed by on the back of an eagle. Its curled boots knocked Lugernot in the nose. It laughed as it soared away.

A third had already landed on Goldfish’s back. It wrapped its twiggy legs around his neck and boxed the sides of his ears.

With a single punch, Lugernot sent the creation sailing. A self-satisfied grin plastered his face, until he felt something missing. Shoving his hand in his pocket, he found it empty. “My statue!” His heartbeat pounded in his eardrums. When had he lost it? His palms grew clammy then icy with sweat. “No. No!” It was all he could give the Toymaker for payment. All he had.

He dropped to his knees and dug through the finger-numbing piles of snow. Goldfish watched, jaw dropped.

He didn’t care if he looked crazy. He didn’t care if he was crazy. “My statue!” He threw back his head and yelled. “Please, help!” He called to the elfs. “There’s so many of you. Please!”

One by one, the creatures dropped from their perches above. Some short, others shorter. Some bareheaded, others capped. Some in furs, others in felts. All staring with mischievous, unsympathetic grins.

The shortest of them all stepped forward. He had a curly mustache and the cunning look of a troublemaker. He held out Lugernot’s statue without a word.

In relief, Lugernot dove forward.

It was snatched from his reach.

“Trade.” The not-quite-two-foot creature crossed his arms. “Him for your statue.” He pointed at Goldfish.

Lugernot’s jaw dropped. He glanced from one to the other. “No! Just give it. It belongs to me!” He dove on top the elf but was pulled off in moments by the crowd.

Straightening his ruffled clothes, the elf stood. “Trade,” he said in a less merry tone.

Lugernot felt tears form in his eyes. He swiped them away. “No.”

“Then your statue is now my statue.” The elf turned.

Something in Lugernot’s chest broke. Desperation and panic steam rolled his senses. “Wait. Okay, okay, trade. Just… just don’t hurt him.”

The little elf’s grin was treacherous. “Never.”

“Lugernot, no. Please!” Goldfish screams were covered by a gush of wind as several birds swooped down and carried him off.

The elf gave Lugernot his statue and, in seconds, he was alone.

The floating orbs dimmed. The snow turned to slush, soaking him to his flesh. Howls made his skin prickle with uncertainty. A cracking branch sounded in the night. Freezing, he looked around, but nothing appeared. He took his next step slowly, his stomach clenching into tighter and tighter knots. Goldfish’s screams echoed in his conscience.

Another crack. “Who’s there? What do you want?” He spun about. Growls vibrated in the air, surrounding him. “I said, who’s there?” Grabbing a fallen branch, he pointed it at the shadows, all nine years of him shaking.

“Put down your weapon!” A pure gray wolf materialized from the trees. His thick coat looked warm and protective. A dozen more followed him.

“No. Not until you tell me what you are.”

“I am Shadow-Shifter, I run in the night and watch for lost pups like you. There are many that the darkness would have for her own if she may. And you? Who are you?”

“They all me Lugernot, but it is not my name!” Lugernot said fiercely. Now that he could see his enemy, his fear loosened enough to allow bold speech.

“But it is what I am to call you?”

“I am going to the Toymaker so I can know what to call me. They say he made all things.”

If wolves could frown, this one certainly did. He tilted his head, studying Lugernot. “You are very far from the Toymaker. You will not make it on such a cold night, and certainly not in clothes such as those. Come with us. We will see to it that your needs are taken care of.”

“But I cannot trust you.” Lugernot said, battling within himself. He was very cold, hungry, and tired. Worst of all, Goldfish’s pleading eyes would not leave his mind. They would not ask if they knew what I did.

“You will die if you do not come with us. Certainly that is worse than us possibly killing you? A wolf’s bite may be merciful in its swiftness, but the cold takes life one drop at a time.”

Shadow-Shifter had a point. Lugernot nodded.

They ran, Shadow-Shifter ever at Lugernot’s side. Through the trees, up the hills, and deep into the mountain caves. They brought him new, clean clothes. Furs that would stay the wet and cold. They had fire, though he couldn’t guess how they made such a thing with paws, and they cooked meat on it for him and threw it in stew. In the end, they gave him a magic, golden compass. “It will take you where you must go,” Shadow-Shifter promised, then licked Lugernot’s forehead.

Making a face, Lugernot wiped away the slobber. Secretly though, he loved the attention. For the first time since he first heard of a creator, he forgot the Toymaker and laid down to sleep, safe and surrounded by protection.

Sometime in the night, a wind began to beat on the walls of the cave. Its moaning turned to pleading. “Please, no!” It was Goldfish’s voice. Lugernot sprung up. The phantom voices disappeared, and the wind resumed its racketing. “Goldfish is in trouble.” He looked about him. Through the mouth of the cave, a single blue star seemed to grow before his very eyes, then shrink back down. It continued to do this like as though calling him.

Lugernot crawled out of the cave, for it was too short for him to stand. Out in the cool night, he straightened. The wind billowed, but the snowing had stopped. A full moon lit the world with more clarity than the cloudy day had given. Orbs, like those he’d first seen upon entering, shone bright. “I have to find him.” Lugernot glanced back at the sleeping wolves.

Shadow-Shifter lay closest to the entrance, eyes wide. Lifting his head, he nodded at him. “Use the compass. Follow the orbs. You will find him. He needs you. Just like us wolves need each other.”

Lugernot felt something cold drip down his cheek. Tear, he realized and wiped his eyes in embarrassment. “I’m never going to find the Toymaker. I’ll never know who I am.”

Something like a sad smile tilted the wolf’s lips. “All will be well. Go.”

Wiping his nose, Lugernot nodded. Fresh vigor filled his body as he looked at the compass and set his course. One step at a time, he walked into the night.

Day had dawned before he reached the lake. It was frozen, with icicles decorating its edges like tree roots. In the middle lay Goldfish, unmoving.

“Goldfish!” Lugernot screamed and ran towards the unconscious form. Appearing from the mounds of snow, a beast strode forward coated in white fur. Its blue tentacles hung from its mouth as though it had tried to take in a mouthful of earthworms and instead froze them to his lip. Its massive hands were spindly, with claws like the daggers Lugernot once dodged.

It swung them at him.

With expertise garnered from being “Dagger boy”, Lugernot dodged and danced. The beast roared. It spread its talons and swiped right. Lugernot rolled under it and popped up like a gopher. He kicked the animal in between the legs, then punched its furry gut. Rock-hard abs bruised his hand.

Roaring in indignation, the beast pointed its claws and grabbed for Lugernot.

Lugernot ducked and rolled backwards.

The claws whooshed over his head, straight towards its own stomach. The beast impaled itself. Mush exploded from its gut. The wind blew violently. It faded away like smoke.

Lugernot gaped, panting. “Goldfish.” He started forward, but an elf appeared in the air.

It was the same one that he first traded with. It sneered at the boy. “You traded!” Pointing a finger at him, he squeaked like a rat. “Since you’ve killed my pet, I will let you have one chance to trade back. ONE!” It shook itself, a jingling filling the air as he did so.

“I trade!” Lugernot shouted and threw the statue at him. It thunked him in the forehead, and he fell back.

Lugernot ran forward. He slid to his knees at Goldfish’ side.

Goldfish fluttered open his wide, gold eyes and looked about. “You came back,” he said, his voice muffled by the scarf.

The ground below them shook. The sun increased in brilliance. The two boys stood, looking about in wonder. A man approached them, glowing like the sun. A long poncho, threaded in blazing green and red draped him from shoulder to boots. His icicle staff had images of lions, wolves, trees, and stars carved into it. Strings of lights hung from his long white beard and a funny hat, lopsided and triangular, flopped over and ran to his hip.

“The Toymaker.” Goldfish yelped.

Lugernot nodded, his hands tight on Goldfish’s shoulders. “It’s no use now. We have nothing to give him.”

“On the contrary, my boys.” The man’s voice was cheerful and sent an immediate warmth through their chests. “You’ve given quite enough.” Now close enough to touch, he bent down, his breath hot in their faces. “That was a very brave think you did, Hero.”

Lugernot looked about for who he was speaking too.

“I’m talking to you.” The Toymaker smiled, kindness pooling in the big eyes. “And you, Faithful. You were very brave to follow your brother into the Winter Night.”

Goldfish nodded, but he looked as unsure as Lugernot felt.

“These are your names I gave you, though you had yet to discover them.” Toymaker looked from one to the other. “This is the story I chose for you both, though you had to choose to live it. You see, a name is given, but it’s whether you decide to claim it or not that really changes the heart of a boy.”

The two children looked from one to the other.

“Hero,” Hero tried out the new title, tasting it like a foreigner’s food. It felt as right as the stew given by the wolves. He met Toymaker’s eyes and smiled till his cheeks hurt. “I am Hero.”

“And I am Faithful.”

Toymaker laughed, the sound better than the richest hot chocolate. “Come now.”

“Come where?” Hero tightened his grip on Faithful.

Toymaker smiled, his eyes twinkling. “Home. You’ve come to know yourselves. It’s time you meet the rest of your kind.”