Princess Lucinda and the Christmas Dirge

Lucinda sat in the auditorium of CavendishHeights School, radiating imperial disdain as she watched yet another student butcher "Silent Night" on the recorder. Next to her, Ian fidgeted nervously, going over his lines for the performance with his father.

"If they're trying to torture confessions out of us, they're succeeding admirably," Lucinda remarked, examining her black-gloved hands with studied indifference.

"It's not that bad," Ian offered weakly, though his wince at a particularly sharp note betrayed him.

"Your optimism would be charming if it weren't so misguided," Lucinda replied, though the slight smile playing at her lips took some of the sting from her words. She glanced at her phone, checking once again for messages from Ari.

Behind them, Reginald's voice carried over the music: "Man, this is worse than when my cat got stuck in the dryer!"

Lucinda's eyes narrowed dangerously. Without turning around, she made a subtle gesture with one finger. A second later, Reginald let out a startled "Oh!" followed by the unmistakable sound of "Jingle Bells" played via flatulence.

"Dude, gross!" someone whispered as Reginald turned bright red.

"How unfortunate," Lucinda said sweetly. "It seems someone's holiday spirit is expressing itself rather... musically."

Ian tried to suppress his laughter. "You didn't..."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Lucinda replied primly, just as another jingling emission caused Reginald to sink lower in his seat. "Though I must say, his contribution to the evening's musical offerings is at least somewhat on theme."

Ms. Wallace, coordinating the performances from the side of the stage, shot a knowing look in their direction but said nothing. She was one of the few mortals Lucinda genuinely respected, if only because the woman had the good sense to recognize superiority when she saw it.

"You're up soon," Lucinda noted to Ian. "Try not to embarrass yourself completely."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Ian muttered, but there was no real annoyance in his voice. He'd learned to translate Lucinda-speak: that was practically a good luck wish coming from her.

"I still can't believe Millicent talked me into participating in this mortal pageantry," Lucinda said, though her fingers tapped against her knee in what might have been anticipation.

"Speaking of which," Ian ventured, "what are you two performing? You've been pretty secretive about it."

Lucinda's violet eyes gleamed. "Let's just say it's a traditional song from... home. One that will remind these simpletons what true musical talent sounds like."

Another gastric rendition of "Jingle Bells" punctuated her statement, causing several nearby students to move away from Reginald.

"Though I must admit," Lucinda added with a wicked smile, "some of tonight's performances are proving more entertaining than others."

Ian and his father took the stage, both wearing blue sweaters with embroidered menorahs. Mr. Steinberg, every inch the professional actor, carried himself with theatrical grace. Ian, by contrast, looked like he wished the stage would swallow him whole.

"Tonight," Mr. Steinberg began in his rich baritone, "my son and I would like to share the story of Hanukkah, the Festival of Lights."

From her seat, Lucinda watched with carefully maintained disinterest, though her eyes never left the stage. As father and son began their dialogue about the Maccabees and the miracle of the oil, she found herself oddly engaged. There was something almost... enchanting about Ian when he forgot to be nervous, when his natural enthusiasm for storytelling took over.

"If you're not careful, your face might crack from holding back that smile," Millicent whispered, having materialized in the seat next to her sister.

"Nonsense," Lucinda replied tartly. "I'm merely noting how even amateur theatrics can have their... moments."

At the back of the auditorium, Ms. Wallace stood with several other teachers, watching the performance. "They're quite good," she remarked to Millicent, who had somehow crossed the room without anyone noticing her move. "Though I'm more curious about what you and your sister have planned."

"Lucinda's full of surprises," Millicent replied diplomatically.

"She certainly is." Ms. Wallace's tone grew thoughtful. "Brilliant girl. Three grades ahead in most subjects, taking college courses... but I worry sometimes. Children need time to be children."

"My sister has never been ordinary," Millicent said, a touch of pride in her voice. "Though I assure you, she has her moments of... childish behavior."

As if on cue, another musical emission from Reginald's direction interrupted the performance. Ian, to his credit, didn't break character, though his father's eyes twinkled with suppressed mirth.

"Speaking of childish behavior," Ms. Wallace sighed, "I don't suppose you know anything about Reginald's sudden musical condition?"

Millicent's lips twitched. "I couldn't possibly comment. Though I must say, his timing is impeccable."

On stage, Ian and his father had reached the conclusion of their piece. "And so we light the menorah," Mr. Steinberg intoned, "to remember that even in the darkest times, miracles can happen if we keep faith."

"And also," Ian added with unexpected confidence, "to remember that sometimes a little light can last longer than anyone expects."

The audience applauded warmly. Lucinda's clapping might have been ever so slightly more enthusiastic than her usual perfunctory acknowledgment, though she would deny it if questioned.

"Well done, sport!" Mr. Steinberg clapped his son on the back as they returned to their seats. "You nailed it!"

"That wasn't completely terrible," Lucinda informed Ian as he sat down, his face flushed with relief and residual nervousness.

"From you, that's practically a standing ovation," he replied with a grin.

"Don't get used to it," she sniffed, though her eyes held a glimmer of something that might have been warmth. "Besides, wait until you see what real performance looks like."

Another jingling interruption from Reginald punctuated her statement.

"Though I must admit," she added with a wicked smile, "the evening's improvised musical accompaniment has its charms."

As the current act finished, Mr. Steinberg leaned over to his son. "You know, sport, your friend Lucinda reminds me of this incredible actress I worked with in London - same commanding presence, same flair for the dramatic."

"Dad," Ian groaned, recognizing his father's matchmaking tone.

"I'm just saying, it's nice to see you with someone who appreciates the theatrical. Even if she does express it through..." he paused as another purple-tinged musical note emanated from Reginald's direction, "...unique means."

Before Ian could protest further, Millicent and Lucinda made their way to the stage. Millicent carried her viola with the grace of a concert violist, while Lucinda moved with imperial purpose toward the grand piano that had sat unused all evening.

"Break a leg, you two!" Mr. Steinberg called out cheerfully.

"How dare you wish injury upon-" Lucinda began, but Millicent cut her off with a gentle nudge.

"Thank you, Mr. Steinberg," Millicent replied smoothly.

"Yeah, break both legs, Nightpain!" Reginald called out. "Maybe then you'll be less-" His words cut off as Lucinda's fingers twitched, and suddenly his emissions turned a vibrant purple, accompanied by visible sparkles.

Millicent shot her sister a look. With an elegant gesture, she restored Reginald to normal - though the boy's expression suggested he might have preferred the musical affliction to whatever memories remained of the experience.

The sisters took their positions on stage. Lucinda sat at the piano, her black-gloved hands hovering over the keys with practiced grace that surprised everyone who had never imagined the imperious girl as a musician. Millicent raised her viola, and for a moment, perfect stillness fell over the auditorium.

Then they began to play.

The melody that filled the air was like nothing the audience had ever heard. It spoke of winter nights on worlds they'd never seen, of crystal palaces under strange moons, of joy and loss and magic beyond mortal understanding. Lucinda's fingers danced across the keys with inhuman precision while Millicent's viola sang with otherworldly beauty. When they added their voices - Millicent's warm soprano and Lucinda's hauntingly clear alto - the effect was mesmerizing.

They sang in a language no one recognized, yet somehow everyone understood. The song spoke of darkness and light, of families separated and reunited, of hope that burned like stars in the longest night. It was a Wintersmarch carol from their home, adapted just enough to seem like an obscure holiday piece to human ears while maintaining its magical essence.

In the audience, tears flowed freely. Mr. Steinberg, a veteran of countless performances, sat transfixed. Ms. Wallace found herself thinking of winters long past and loved ones far away. Even Reginald sat in stunned silence, all thoughts of mockery forgotten.

Ian watched Lucinda, seeing not the haughty girl who regularly threatened to turn him into various small creatures, but something else - something ancient and powerful and beautiful. For a moment, he could almost see her as she truly was: a princess of a realm beyond human understanding, sharing a fragment of her world's glory with these unsuspecting mortals.

As the final notes faded away, the auditorium remained absolutely still. Then, as if waking from a dream, the audience erupted in thunderous applause. People rose to their feet, some still wiping tears away, others calling for an encore.

Millicent bowed gracefully. Lucinda, true to form, merely inclined her head with imperial acknowledgment - though those who knew her best might have caught the slight smile of satisfaction playing at her lips.

As the audience filtered into the lobby, Ms. Wallace approached the Nightbane sisters, still visibly moved by their performance. "That was absolutely extraordinary," she said. "I've never heard anything quite like it."

"Obviously," Lucinda replied. "Though I assume we won whatever primitive competition this was meant to be?"

"Lucinda, it wasn't that kind of event," Ms. Wallace explained gently. "There are no winners or-"

"What?" Lucinda's eyes flashed dangerously. "You mean to tell me we demonstrated clear superiority and receive no formal acknowledgment?"

Millicent placed a calming hand on her sister's shoulder. "The appreciation of the audience is acknowledgment enough, dear sister."

Even Reginald, shuffling past, managed to mumble, "That was actually kind of cool, Nightbane." When he turned to Millicent to add something, he merely went red and hurried away.

In the crowded lobby, well-wishers surrounded Millicent while Lucinda stood slightly apart, checking her phone with intense concentration. Her eyes narrowed at the weather radar showing a storm system in the path of an incoming flight. With an imperious gesture, she traced her finger across the screen, and somewhere over the Atlantic, a mass of storm clouds obediently shifted course.

"Ah, Mr. Steinberg!" Millicent's voice carried over the crowd. "I trust you received the invitation to Jezi's holiday gathering?"

"Wouldn't miss it," he replied warmly. "Though I'm still stumped about gifts. What do you get for..." he gestured vaguely at the sisters' general aura of otherworldly sophistication.

"Your presence is gift enough," Millicent assured him with characteristic grace.

"Nonsense," he insisted. "Though shopping for you two is a challenge. I mean, you're both so..." he trailed off, clearly trying to find a polite way to reference their obvious wealth.

"We'll treasure whatever you choose to bring," Millicent said smoothly as Ian and his father took their leave.

Lucinda materialized at her sister's side. "Speaking of gifts, I suppose I should procure something for the mortals attending this gathering."

"It's important, Lucy," Millicent said, and there was an unusual note of nervousness in her voice that made Lucinda look at her sharply.

"Not destroying them isn't sufficient?" Lucinda asked with a wicked smile. At Millicent's expression, she sighed dramatically. "Fine. I'll help with your little gift-giving ritual. Though I maintain that showing them a fraction of our true musical abilities was generosity enough."

"Thank you, sister," Millicent said softly. As they headed for the exit, their heels clicking in perfect synchronization on the marble floor, Lucinda muttered something about "mortal holidays" and "excessive sentimentality." But she was already mentally cataloging potential gifts, determined that if she had to participate in this tradition, she would excel at it as she did everything else.

After all, she was a princess. Even gift-giving should be done with proper imperial flair.

*****

ri smiled as the New York skyline came into view, so different now with its holiday decorations than during her first visit. The flight attendant, Sarah, who had been assigned as her escort, checked on her one final time.

"Back in New York for the holidays?"

"Yes," Ari replied, discreetly touching her backpack to ensure her carefully hidden wand was secure. "My aunt says Christmas in New York is something everyone should experience at least once."

As they made their way through the terminal, Ari observed the holiday bustle with quiet interest. The past months had given her a new confidence, though her aunt would simply attribute it to her settling into life back home.

"The decorations are quite different from what we have at home," she remarked to Sarah, who had been telling her about various holiday traditions.

"First Christmas?"

"Yes, though my friend Lucinda has been telling me about winter celebrations where she's from." Ari kept her tone casual, knowing well the importance of keeping certain things secret.

They reached baggage claim where Jezi and Kate were waiting. Ari's face lit up at the sight of her aunt.

"Amme!" she called out, quickening her pace. Their embrace was warm and familiar - to Jezi, she was still her beloved niece, even if she didn't know about the double life Ari now led.

"Look at you," Jezi said warmly. "You seem so much more confident these days."

"Life back home has been... interesting," Ari replied carefully, thinking of all the things she couldn't share.

Kate joined them, adding her own hug. "Well, we're going to make sure your first Christmas is memorable."

"Speaking of memorable," Ari said as she collected her suitcase, "Lucinda mentioned having some special holiday plans."

"That girl," Jezi chuckled fondly, having no idea just how special those plans might be. "Well, between her ideas and our holiday party at the restaurant, it's certainly going to be an interesting season."

Sarah handed over the travel documents and bid them farewell. As they headed for the exit, Ari walked between her aunt and Kate, listening to their plans for the holidays. She smiled, knowing she was carrying a secret that would make this Christmas far more interesting than they could imagine.

To them, she was just their niece visiting for the holidays. Only she knew that tucked away in her backpack was a wand that could bring real magic to the season - though that would have to remain her secret to keep.

The familiar scent of spices greeted them as they entered the restaurant. Even with the holiday decorations adding new colors to the space, it still felt like home to Ari.

"Your room's exactly as you left it," Jezi said as they climbed the stairs to the apartment. "Though I did add a few winter blankets, considering the season."

Ari opened the door to her room and smiled. Everything was indeed just as she remembered - the photos on the wall, the soft bedding, even the small stuffed turtle on the pillow. It was comforting to know some things stayed the same, especially given how much had changed in her life.

"The restaurant's doing well?" she asked, setting her backpack down carefully.

"Very well," Jezi beamed. "We even had to hire two new servers. But enough about business - how's everyone back home? Your parents? Your little sister?"

"They're doing okay," Ari said, choosing her words with care. "Father's still teaching, Mother's still giving music lessons."

Jezi studied her niece. "Are you taller? You look taller."

"Only half an inch," Ari laughed. "Though everyone back home says the same thing."

"You must be hungry after that flight," Jezi suggested. "I could whip something up..."

"I'm fine, actually." Ari was surprised to realize she felt no jet lag either, though she suspected that might have something to do with Lucinda's influence on the weather during her flight.

Her phone buzzed with a text message. Jezi smiled knowingly. "That'll be Lucinda, I expect. I'll let you catch up with your friends while I check on things downstairs."

As soon as her aunt left, Ari pulled out her phone:

Lucinda: Need to acquire gifts for mortals. Care to assist? Lucinda: Ian will be joining us. He claims to understand this "Christmas shopping" ritual. Ari: Sounds fun! When? Lucinda: Shortly. Bending space-time makes scheduling quite flexible.

Ari grinned at her friend's casual reference to magical travel. Looking out the window, she noticed snow falling - something she'd only seen in pictures before. The sight was mesmerizing, but it also reminded her that her wardrobe wasn't prepared for a New York winter.

After checking that Jezi was truly gone, Ari pulled out her wand. With growing confidence, she gave it a practiced wave. Her suitcase unzipped itself and began efficiently unpacking, clothes floating to their proper places.

She examined a light jacket she'd brought, knowing it wouldn't be nearly warm enough. With another wave of her wand and a focused thought, the fabric transformed - thickening, adding insulation, becoming a proper winter coat while maintaining its style.

"Not bad," she whispered, admiring her handiwork. Her magical skills had grown significantly since Lucinda first gave her the wand. Simple transformations like this came easily now, though she knew better than to let her aunt see such obvious displays of magic.

Her phone buzzed again:

Lucinda: Prepare yourself. We're about to arrive in a suitably dramatic fashion.

Ari quickly tucked her wand away, still smiling. Whatever Lucinda had planned, it was sure to be interesting - her friend rarely settled for anything less than spectacular.

*****

Ari wrapped her magically-enhanced scarf around her neck and slipped on her transformed jacket. Heading downstairs, she waved to Jezi who was arranging holiday decorations near the register. Her aunt smiled warmly and waved back.

Stepping outside, Ari was surprised to feel a subtle thrum of magical energy - the space-bending anchors Lucinda and Millicent had created. She hadn't been able to sense them during her first visit, before receiving her wand. It was another reminder of how much had changed since her initial frightening journey to New York.

The snow captivated her attention. Growing up in Ibahd, she'd never seen anything like it. Through her growing magical awareness, she could feel the delicate balance of nature in each falling flake, the intricate patterns of frost forming on windows. It was beautiful in a way pictures could never capture.

A wave of familiar magic washed over her, and she instinctively stepped back. Between one blink and the next, Lucinda and Ian simply... were there. Passersby didn't react at all - to them, the imperial princess and her queasy companion had always been standing in that spot, unremarkable until this moment.

"Lucinda!" Ari rushed forward to hug her friend. Lucinda, normally averse to such displays of affection, accepted the embrace with unusual grace. After all, Ari was different from other mortals.

"How was your flight?" Lucinda asked after Ari released her.

"Wonderful - thank you for the first-class ticket."

Lucinda waved away the gratitude. "Once you've mastered broom travel, such primitive transportation will be beneath you."

"I think I'm going to be sick," Ian groaned, still looking green.

"If you vomit, I'll turn you into a mouse," Lucinda threatened. "A particularly small one."

Ian somehow managed to keep his composure, and Ari laughed, having missed their familiar banter.

"I'm ready for anything," she declared. "And unlike last time, I'm not even jetlagged."

"Of course not," Lucinda said proudly. "The magic you wield is changing you. Such mortal frailties are beneath you now."

"True," Ari replied thoughtfully. "I haven't been sick in months, actually."

"Am I immortal?" she asked suddenly.

"No," Lucinda explained. "But you'll live far longer than most humans, and once adult, age much more slowly."

Ari absorbed this information silently, not quite sure how to feel about it.

"So what's the plan?" Ian asked, finally recovering.

"Gift shopping for the mortals," Lucinda replied. "Not you two, of course."

"Well, I'm Jewish," Ian pointed out. "Technically I don't need Christmas gifts."

"Yes, I've studied your beliefs and customs," Lucinda's tone was playfully menacing. "I've made... arrangements."

Ari laughed. "Just being with my friends is gift enough."

"We'll see about that," Lucinda said mysteriously. "I wanted to simply conjure magical items, but Millicent insists on normal gifts. And apparently, simply giving money is 'missing the point.'"

Ian and Ari both laughed at Lucinda's obvious disdain for the restriction.

"Very well. If I must shop like a common creature, I shall at least do it in style." Lucinda snapped her fingers. Thunder rolled overhead.

A magnificent black Victorian carriage materialized, pulled by two midnight-black horses. The driver was a gaunt figure in period dress, complete with a tricorn hat, his skeletal hands gripping the reins. An equally unsettling footman stood at his post at the rear.

Ian took an instinctive step back. "That's... creepy."

"That's so cool," Ari breathed, her eyes shining with appreciation for Lucinda's flair for the dramatic.

*****

Inside the carriage's plush interior, the three 13-year-olds settled onto black velvet seats. Lucinda withdrew a cigarette, placing it in her red and silver holder with practiced grace before lighting it with a snap of her fingers.

"Where to first?" Ari asked, still taking in the carriage's Victorian elegance.

Lucinda turned to Ian with an imperious look. "Well? Make yourself useful and find us a suitable shopping destination, or I might decide a toad would be more helpful."

Ian rolled his eyes but pulled out his phone. "According to Maxi, 5th Avenue has the best holiday shopping."

"Maxi?" Ari asked.

"The little digital djinn that lives in the phones now," Lucinda said with casual disdain.

"It's an AI assistant from Maximum Labs," Ian corrected. "Not a djinn."

"On my homeworld, we had djinn bound to mirrors and crystals linked across realities that served the same purpose," Lucinda countered. "Though I suppose your primitive technology is... adequate."

"We've heard of AI in Ibahd," Ari noted. "But Maximum Labs phones are banned there."

"Saks isn't close," Lucinda mused, ignoring the technical discussion. "But distance is merely a mortal concern. Rider, to the sky!"

The carriage lurched upward, concealed by swirling snow as it took to the air above New York. Ian's face immediately turned green again, while Ari pressed her face to the window, watching the city's Christmas lights spread out below them.

"What do you think of Christmas, Lucinda?" Ari asked.

"It's hardly Wintersmarch," Lucinda replied, exhaling a perfectly formed smoke ring. "Though the confections are acceptable. According to my research, it originated as a celebration of Alomeg's avatar."

"Alomeg?" Ari questioned.

"The name given to the common deity of both my world and Ian's belief system across various realities," Lucinda explained with scholarly precision.

"That... actually makes a lot of sense," Ian managed between waves of nausea.

Ari nodded, not entirely following but enchanted by the view below. "Everything looks so magical with the lights. Everyone seems kinder during the holidays."

The carriage descended through a sudden flurry of snow, seamlessly joining the flow of traffic as if it had always been there. As they rolled toward the shopping district's festive displays, Ian glanced at his phone again. A notification caught his eye.

"Hey, Maxi has a new app - 'Max-Mas: Naughty or Nice,'" he said, tapping to download it.

Lucinda's eyes narrowed slightly at the mention of "naughty or nice," though neither of her friends noticed her reaction.

The carriage drew to a stop before Saks Fifth Avenue, where a valet in a red uniform stood gaping at the Victorian conveyance. The skeletal footman descended with fluid grace, unfolding ornate steps for his passengers.

"That is the coolest thing ever," the valet breathed, staring at the ethereal horses and their ghostly driver.

Ian barely noticed, absorbed in his phone screen as he navigated the carpet to the entrance. He would have tripped if Lucinda hadn't casually gestured, making the carpet flatten itself before his feet.

"What has you so enthralled?" Lucinda demanded.

"Maximum Labs is doing something amazing," Ian grinned. "They're trying to do what Santa does, but for real!"

"Santa isn't real," Ari said matter-of-factly.

"No, but-"

"With Lucinda and Millicent around, I wasn't entirely sure," Ari admitted.

Lucinda's lips curved into a slight smile. "If such a being existed on this pitiful world, I would certainly know about it."

The valet approached them, his holiday enthusiasm undimmed. "Hey, young man - have you checked if you're on the Nice List?"

Ian held up his phone, displaying a green screen with "NICE LIST CONFIRMED" in festive lettering.

"Maxi-Mas is incredible," the valet enthused. "Wish I wasn't too old to participate."

"Explain," Lucinda commanded, her eyes narrowing.

Ian held out his phone. "It's this new app from Maximum. You put in your name, address, and some other info, and it tells you if you're on their Naughty or Nice List."

"Do me!" Ari leaned over his shoulder as Ian began entering her information.

"This is childish nonsense," Lucinda declared. "No mortal technology could possibly make such determinations. And more importantly, why should anyone care?"

The valet, returning from watching the carriage mysteriously disappear down the street, couldn't resist chiming in. "Maximum Labs is sending drones to deliver gifts to every kid on the Nice List by Christmas morning!"

Lucinda turned slowly to face him. "I don't recall asking for your opinion." She pointed one black-gloved finger, and suddenly where the valet had stood was a snowman, complete with his uniform vest and cap.

"Come along," she said imperiously, sweeping into the store.

Ian and Ari hurried after her, though Ari couldn't help glancing back at the snowman-valet. "Should we...?"

"He'll thaw eventually," Lucinda said. "Probably." Her tone suggested that the valet's eventual fate was far less interesting than whatever had put that dangerous glint in her eye at the mention of Maximum's presumptuous "naughty or nice" determinations.

 Inside Saks, massive screens displayed holiday sales interspersed with smiling faces of children deemed "nice" by Maximum's system. Ian's image appeared, prompting several shoppers to offer him high-fives and congratulations. Lucinda pointedly examined a display of winter scarves, refusing to acknowledge such peasant behavior.

"Ready to check your status?" Ian asked Ari, who nodded nervously.

Moments later, Ari's face appeared on the screens, crowned with a digital halo marking her "nice" status. An assistant manager nearby remarked to a colleague, "When they suggested using the Maxi-Labs app for advertising, I was skeptical. But look how people love it!"

Lucinda drifted toward the cologne section, pretending not to notice when the same manager presented Ian and Ari with small boxes of candy. "Both Kosher and Halal certified," he assured them proudly.

"If you two are quite finished with this nonsense," Lucinda called, examining a bottle of cologne that promised to mask even the most unfortunate odors, "we have actual tasks to accomplish."

"You're just jealous," Ian teased, immediately regretting his words.

"Jealous?" Ari asked. "Why would Lucinda be-" Her eyes widened. "Oh. The Nice List."

"That's absurd," Lucinda sniffed. "If Ian of all people qualified as 'nice,' then obviously I would as well. The very idea that some mortal machine could judge me..." She pulled out her phone.

"Maybe we should look at gifts instead," Ian suggested quickly. "You're right, the list is stupid-"

"Too late," Lucinda's fingers flew across her screen. "This primitive system will recognize my imperial status, assuming it has any validity whatsoever."

"Lucinda," Ari tried, "you're nice in your own... unique way..."

But Lucinda had already activated the app. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, in bold red letters: "NAUGHTY!"

The screens throughout the store flickered. Lucinda's image appeared, wreathed in digital flames, tiny horns sprouting from her head. Shoppers turned to stare.

Lucinda's violet eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. In the distance, thunder rolled ominously across what had been a clear winter sky.

"How. Dare. They."

"Where are you going?" Ian called as Lucinda stormed toward Saks' entrance, her heels clicking ominously against marble floors.

"To teach the presumptuous mortals at Maximum Labs a lesson they will - to their great displeasure - live to regret." Each word dripped with imperial fury.

"We should stay and shop," Ari suggested quickly. "Finish getting gifts..."

"Yeah," Ian added, "and Maximum Labs is in Dallas. That's really far-"

"Not as the carriage flies." Lucinda's tone brooked no argument.

Ian and Ari exchanged worried looks, knowing they'd better accompany her if they wanted any hope of moderating whatever vengeance she was plotting.

"Wait!" The assistant manager hurried over, holding out a small wrapped package. "A special gift for our... uniquely listed guest."

Lucinda paused, opening it with deliberate precision. Inside lay a lump of coal.

"Try to do better next year!" the manager said with a cheerful wink, clearly thinking he was being clever.

Lucinda's eyes flashed violet. One elegant gesture later, the manager flopped on the floor as a gasping minnow.

Ari quickly drew her wand, conjuring a small fishbowl around the transformed manager before he could suffocate. "At least he won't dry out," she whispered.

The trio exited to find their carriage waiting. As the skeletal footman helped them board, Lucinda's rage seemed to infect the very vehicle itself. The horses' nostrils began breathing fire, their hooves igniting with each step. When they took to the air, concealed by swirling snow, the carriage wheels blazed like meteor trails.

A sonic boom cracked across the winter sky as they accelerated southward, the burning carriage streaking through clouds like an angry comet.

"Maybe we should think about this," Ian tried, looking distinctly green again. "Maximum Labs isn't really-"

"They presume to judge ME," Lucinda said, arms crossed, violet eyes practically glowing with fury.

Ian met Ari's concerned gaze and pulled out his phone, typing quickly:

Ian: We have a Code 13. 

*****

The lobby of Cavendish Heights glowed with tasteful holiday decorations. Rhonda glanced around, her expression growing increasingly sour at the obvious wealth on display.

"Your friend lives here?" she asked Zack, who was shifting uncomfortably in the suit jacket she'd insisted he wear. "Like, the whole building?"

"Just the thirteenth floor," Adam replied before Zack could answer.

"The whole floor?" Rhonda's perfectly manicured eyebrows shot up. "And what does she do exactly?"

"She's in culinary school," Zack said, avoiding eye contact.

"Culinary school." Rhonda's tone dripped with skepticism. "And she can afford a whole floor in this place? What's her deal, really?"

"Millicent is..." Adam started, then seemed to think better of whatever he was going to say. "She's unique."

"Unique," Rhonda repeated flatly. She'd been dating Zack for three weeks and had spent most of that time hearing about his roommate's amazing girlfriend. Millicent this, Millicent that. Perfect Millicent with her British accent and her cooking skills and apparently an entire floor of a luxury building.

"Maybe this wasn't such a good idea," Zack muttered.

"No, no," Rhonda plastered on a bright smile. "I'm dying to meet this Millicent. Though I have to wonder why she's never around when I visit your apartment. Almost like she's avoiding meeting me."

"She's been busy," Adam said carefully. "The holidays are a hectic time."

"Too busy to meet her boyfriend's roommate's girlfriend? For three whole weeks?" Rhonda smoothed her designer knockoff dress. "Sounds a little stuck up if you ask me."

The elevator dinged and they stepped inside. Adam pressed 13, exchanging a worried look with Zack. They both knew Millicent wasn't stuck up at all - she was actually one of the kindest people they knew, despite being literal otherworldly royalty. But they could hardly explain that to Rhonda.

"Just... try to keep an open mind," Zack pleaded as the elevator rose.

"Oh, I'm very open-minded," Rhonda assured him with a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "I can't wait to see what makes this Millicent so special."

Adam pulled out his phone and quickly typed: "Heads up - Rhonda's on the warpath." He wasn't sure if Millicent would see it in time, but he had to try. The last thing they needed was for Rhonda to provoke someone who could literally turn her into a toad with a gesture.

The elevator stopped at thirteen, and Rhonda squared her shoulders like a warrior preparing for battle.

When Millicent opened the door to the 13th floor apartment, Rhonda couldn't hide her surprise at the sheer size of the space. The entryway alone was bigger than her living room.

"Welcome," Millicent said warmly, though her imperial bearing made even that simple word sound regal. "I've prepared some refreshments."

"How did you get this place?" Rhonda asked, looking around at the clearly expensive furnishings. "Are your parents loaded or something?"

"Rhonda, this is Millicent," Zack made the introduction quickly. "Millicent, Rhonda."

"Delighted," Millicent replied with perfect politeness, though something in her violet eyes suggested otherwise.

They moved to the living room where Millicent had laid out an impressive spread - homemade sliders, crispy fries, pigs in blankets, wings, and various snacks arranged with elegant precision.

"So what's this surprise movie?" Millicent asked as Zack picked up the remote.

"Die Hard!" Zack and Adam announced in unison.

"It's technically a Christmas movie," Adam explained earnestly to Millicent.

Rhonda barely heard the explanation, too busy eyeing the obviously expensive artwork and furniture. When Millicent invited her to make herself comfortable, she sat stiffly on the edge of a plush armchair.

"Where's Lucinda?" Zack asked.

"Shopping with Ian and Ari," Millicent replied.

"Who's Lucinda?" Rhonda asked.

"A menace," Zack said quickly.

"My little sister," Millicent corrected. "She's thirteen."

"Thirteen?" Rhonda's tone sharpened. "Isn't it a bit late for a kid to be running around the city?"

"Lucinda can take care of herself," Adam said firmly.

"Well, if that was my little sister, I'd make sure she was safe at home," Rhonda's words carried a clear criticism.

A flash of annoyance crossed Millicent's perfect features. Adam quickly tried to change the subject, launching into an explanation of Die Hard's status as a holiday classic.

"Maybe we should try something simpler," Rhonda suggested sweetly. "Like Rudolph? Or haven't you seen that either?"

Adam shot Zack a desperate look. Zack's phone buzzed with Adam's text: "Why did you invite her? Are you trying to get her disintegrated?"

"She insisted," Zack typed back. "And zombies can't be choosers."

Fifteen minutes into the movie, as Millicent attempted to engage politely with an increasingly hostile Rhonda, her phone lit up with Ian's message:

"We have a Code 13."

Millicent's perfect composure cracked, just slightly. This evening had just gotten considerably more complicated.

 *****

The burning carriage materialized above Maximum Labs' sprawling Dallas complex. Through bending space and Lucinda's sheer determination, they'd made what should have been a four-hour flight in minutes.

"Halt!" A security guard rushed forward as they landed. "The facility is closed. Tours start at 10 AM-"

"Where," Lucinda's voice dripped imperial disdain, "is your ridiculous Naughty-Nice detection device?"

"Ma'am, I'm going to have to ask you to-"

Lucinda gestured casually. The guard liquefied, becoming a puddle that she flicked aside with the same attention one might give a bothersome insect. Another gesture ripped the high-tech security gate from its moorings, crumpling it like paper.

"Lucinda," Ari's voice was gentle but firm. "You're a princess. This is beneath you."

Lucinda sighed dramatically. With an elegant wave, the gate reassembled itself and returned to position. The guard, however, remained a puddle.

"Ian," she turned to her increasingly nervous friend. "Who created this presumptuous device?"

"I... don't think I should-"

"You can tell me as a boy or as a three-headed warthog," Lucinda said pleasantly. "Choose quickly."

"Dr. Shane Garrison!" Ian blurted. "He did most of the work on the aura detection system."

"Full name?"

"Dr. Shane Alexander Garrison," Ian said miserably. "But maybe we should think about-"

Lucinda was already striding back to the carriage, her black dress swirling dramatically. "Driver, find me Garrison."

The skeletal coachman raised his head, sniffing the air with nonexistent nostrils. The horses' flaming hooves pawed the ground eagerly.

As Ian and Ari scrambled back aboard, the carriage took to the air once more, trailing fire against the night sky. Ian couldn't help wondering if he'd just made a terrible mistake sharing that information - but then, refusing Lucinda when she was in this mood would probably have been worse.

The carriage banked sharply east, following some supernatural sense toward its prey.

"I have an errand to run," Millicent announced smoothly, rising from her seat. "I'll return shortly."

"What kind of errand?" Rhonda's voice dripped suspicion. "At this hour?"

"Personal matters," Millicent replied with perfect politeness.

"And you're just going to leave us here?" Rhonda laughed. "Aren't you worried a girl like me might rob you blind?"

"No," Millicent said simply.

"Rich and naive too," Rhonda muttered, just loud enough to be heard.

Millicent glided to her room, transforming her elegant outfit into sleek leather riding gear as soon as she was out of sight. The black and green ensemble included a hooded winter coat and goggles - practical wear for high-altitude broom flight. She retrieved her shoulder bag and broom just as Adam appeared in the doorway.

"I'm sorry about Rhonda," he said quietly. "Be safe?"

Millicent kissed him softly. "Don't worry. And if she tries to steal anything..." A slight smile played at her lips. "The apartment's anti-theft wards will ensure she deeply regrets it."

Before Adam could ask what that meant, Millicent vanished. She reappeared two hundred feet above the building, allowing herself a moment of free fall before gracefully mounting her broom mid-air. The city spread out below her as she accelerated southward, following the magical trail left by Lucinda's burning carriage.

Near the border of New Jersey, she found what she was looking for - a tear in reality, edges still smoking with imperial magic. Lucinda had left the wormhole open, a sign of just how angry she must be. Normally, her sister was fastidious about cleaning up such magical remnants.

Millicent raised her hand, weaving a spell to seal the breach. But first, she urged her broom forward, slipping through the gap moments before it closed behind her. Whatever her sister was planning, Millicent needed to be there to ensure it didn't get too out of hand.

Though knowing Lucinda's mood, she might already be too late.

Dr. Garrison sat on his back porch, enjoying the unseasonably warm Texas evening while stroking his cat. The sudden gust of arctic wind that sent his cat bolting indoors was his first indication something was amiss.

The previously clear sky darkened with impossible speed. He pulled out his phone. "Maxi, weather check."

"Unusual front approaching. Expect near-freezing temperatures within minutes in your immediate area."

Thunder rolled overhead, accompanied by what sounded disturbingly like the neighing of horses. His house lights flickered, and the sprinkler system spontaneously activated - spraying what appeared to be blood before sputtering to a stop.

"Fascinating," Garrison muttered, his scientific mind racing. "Either a very localized meteorological anomaly or perhaps some form of mass hallucination triggered by subsonic waves..."

His theorizing was interrupted by the arrival of a Victorian carriage pulled by flame-breathing horses, driven by what appeared to be an animated corpse in period dress.

"Ah," he nodded to himself. "Sleep paralysis dream with Gothic horror elements. Fascinating."

The skeletal footman opened the carriage door, and three figures emerged - a pale girl in black who radiated imperial hauteur, a nervous-looking boy with glasses, and a girl wearing a headscarf.

"My subconscious is clearly processing some form of guilt through archetypal manifestations," Garrison mused.

The girl in black approached him. "Are you the creator of the app?"

"It was a group effort, though I did develop the aura detection system," he replied conversationally to his apparent dream construct.

"How does it work?"

"It detects and counts biorhythmic attachments, each with a frequency based on others' reactions to the subject." He smiled indulgently. "Though that might be a bit complex for a child, dream manifestation or otherwise."

"The reactionary frequencies make sense," she nodded. "Primitive, but not entirely incompetent."

The boy stepped forward. "Can I have your autograph? You're my favorite at Maximum!"

"Really? Most prefer Hartman. I usually rank fourth."

"While your invention shows promise," the girl in black declared, "the fact that it dared label me 'naughty' means both it and you must be destroyed."

"Please don't destroy him," the girl in the headscarf pleaded. "He seems nice."

"You're definitely on the Nice List," Garrison smiled at her.

"Fine," the dark-haired girl rolled her eyes. "But he must be punished."

"Is she always so extra?" Garrison asked the boy, who nodded.

"As someone with multiple doctorates including psychology, I'd say she clearly represents my id in this dream state."

"This isn't a dream," the girl said dangerously.

"It must be. There's no logical explanation for a Sleepy Hollow carriage in my backyard."

"For someone who claims intellect, you're remarkably idiotic."

"Oh!" the boy suddenly exclaimed. "Yes, we're ghosts! Three spirits come to show you the error of your ways... Booooo!"

"Ah, being Scrooged by my own subconscious," Garrison nodded appreciatively. "This will make an fascinating paper when I wake up."

*****

"I know that story!" Ari brightened. "Can I be the Ghost of Christmas Past?"

"Of course," Lucinda replied imperiously. "I shall be the Ghost of Garrison's very bleak future."

"Hey, I wanted to be Future," Ian protested. "That's the cool ghost."

Garrison chuckled. "No, no - the angry one in black is clearly Future. The nice one with the scarf is Present - she smiles too much to be anything else. And you, my boy," he pointed at Ian, "are Past."

"Why am I Past?"

Garrison adjusted his glasses professionally. "Look at us - both blonde, both bespectacled. You're clearly intelligent but underconfident, just as I was at your age. My subconscious is rather heavy-handed with the symbolism."

Ian's face lit up. "That's... actually really cool."

"Well, shall we proceed? Dreams rarely maintain lucidity this long."

"How pretentious can you be?" Lucinda's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"He is rather pretentious," Ari agreed with a meaningful smile at Lucinda.

"I am not pretentious," Lucinda sniffed. "Merely properly imperious."

"Shouldn't there be a Marley first?" Garrison mused.

"This isn't some silly story or dream," Lucinda's patience was clearly wearing thin. "You should start making peace-"

"Lucinda," Ari warned, "you promised not to destroy him."

"You know," Garrison continued, lost in thought, "Hartman - both Mac and Mark - warned me about this. Said we shouldn't be marking children. But I argued most would be Nice, the others would learn-"

"I am NOT naughty," Lucinda's voice crackled with power. "I'm complicated."

"That's exactly why it doesn't work on adults," Garrison nodded enthusiastically. "Adults are too complex - the algorithm marks most as Naughty. But children are purer, and Hartman thought we could use the tech for Max-Mas. He always wanted an excuse to play Santa-"

"See?" Ari touched Lucinda's arm gently. "Complicated."

"Well," Garrison nodded, "if a child-"

"Princess," Lucinda corrected icily.

"If a princess," he continued, "was overly complicated by royal duties and clearly excellent fashion choices, she might be misclassified as Naughty."

"Which is why this Nice and Naughty system is problematic, Dr. Garrison," Ari said thoughtfully. "Lucinda is complicated, but maybe others are too. Maybe they've done 'naughty' things because of complicated situations."

Garrison studied Ari with growing respect. "You're a remarkably insightful young lady. Perhaps I let the fact we could do this override whether we should."

"Yeah, what he said," Ian nodded. "I think."

"Sigh" Lucinda rolled her eyes. "I suppose it would be petty to punish you now."

"Totally," Ian agreed quickly.

Lucinda snapped her fingers. In an instant, Garrison transformed into a gingerbread man, which promptly crumbled to the ground.

"Complicated," she said with a wicked smile. Then, turning to Ari, "As your teacher in all things magical, I'll leave it to you to undo my... pettiness."

Ari drew her wand, looking at the scattered gingerbread crumbs. Taking a deep breath, she squared her shoulders. "I can do this."

Lucinda nodded encouragingly while Ian looked on with concern, clearly hoping Ari's restoration spell would work better than Lucinda's transformation.

Ari focused on the scattered gingerbread pieces, feeling the magic that bound them.

"What if she can't fix it?" Ian whispered.

"Then the birds eat well come morning," Lucinda said dryly. Then, glaring at Ian, "Have faith in Ari."

"You can do it," Ian encouraged.

Piece by piece, the gingerbread fragments reformed on the ground until a complete cookie-man lay before them.

"There," Ari said. "I think I have all of him."

"Now unweave my spell," Lucinda smiled wickedly. "Don't worry, I put very little thought into it, so it should be easy."

As Ari concentrated, Millicent landed silently behind them.

"Lucy, what are you doing?"

"Lucinda came to destroy Dr. Garrison," Ian explained quickly, "but everything worked out until she turned him into a gingerbread man as a teachable moment for Ari."

Millicent absorbed this information, walking to join the group. "I suppose it could be worse."

"Much worse, sister. So much worse," Lucinda agreed.

Ari's wand tip began glowing, the light spreading to encompass the gingerbread man as she carefully unwove the transformation spell.

"Very good, Ari," Millicent observed.

"Thank you," Ari smiled, maintaining her focus as Garrison slowly returned to flesh and blood - minus a significant chunk of his shoulder.

"Ari had a very good teacher," Lucinda preened, "and is an excellent student."

Garrison examined his bloodless void of a shoulder. "Was I a cookie?" Then, noticing Millicent, "Are you my Marley?"

"No," Millicent sighed, snapping her fingers to restore his shoulder.

"Thank you."

Lucinda levitated a small piece of gingerbread to her hand. "Nice work, Ari. Though next time, try to get it all."

"Sorry, Dr. Garrison," Ari apologized. "First time."

"It's fine," Garrison assured her. "Save for the searing pain of being maimed and the future existential crisis."

Garrison pulled out his phone. "Maxi, Garrison 6731 override. Mark all children on Maximum's list as nice."

"Yes, Dr. Garrison."

"And deactivate my aura system and algorithm after Christmas."

"Confirmed."

He looked up at the strange group in his yard. "This is real, isn't it?"

"Yes," Lucinda said simply.

"How did you know?" Ian asked.

"The letters on my phone were normal. You can't read properly in dreams," Garrison explained. "The text is usually scrambled."

"I'm sure you have questions," Millicent said gently, "but for everyone's safety, I'll need to erase most of this from your memory."

"Makes sense," Garrison nodded. "I don't know what you and the girls are, but if I remembered, I'd spend every waking moment trying to figure it out."

"Which would be unwise," Lucinda noted darkly.

"I'm quite intelligent though. Might start putting pieces together anyway."

"Please don't," Millicent said, snapping her fingers.

Garrison blinked, finding himself sitting on his porch, cat in lap. He had a vague memory of deciding to fix an issue with his Naughty and Nice program - something about it being unfair to children.

Snowflakes began to fall. "Maxi, weather report?"

"Snow forecast for the next week. Freezing temperatures due to an unexpected northern front."

Walking into his yard, he noticed two sets of scorched hoofprints burned into the grass. "That's strange," he mused, then calmly returned to his house as the temperature plummeted.

Some things, he decided, were better left unexamined.

*****
Holiday music filled Jezi's restaurant as guests mingled around tables laden with Middle Eastern delicacies. A Christmas tree, menorah, and Mishumaa Saba shared space near the windows, presents scattered beneath them. The blue and silver Maximum Labs boxes sat unopened, drawing curious glances from their recipients.

Under the mistletoe, Millicent and Adam shared a kiss while Ian's mother chatted animatedly with Jezi and Kate about theatre. Lucinda, Ian, and Ari huddled near their Max-Mas presents, speculating about the contents.

Ms. Wallace arrived with her husband and sixteen-year-old son, who clutched his own blue box. Jezi welcomed them warmly, offering a plate of stuffed grape leaves that Rhonda eyed suspiciously from across the room.

"You better have gotten me something nice," Rhonda hissed at Zack.

"I tried," he said wearily.

Millicent, breaking away from Adam, noticed Rhonda's tone. "I suppose Zack will be getting two Christmas presents from me," she said, approaching them. "Zack is overly curious and thinks he's smarter than he is, but he's my friend. Be nice to him."

"Thanks?" Zack offered.

"A rich girl like you better back off," Rhonda sneered. "You can't handle me."

"Rhonda, she's just trying to be nice," Zack warned.

"Bring it," Rhonda cut him off.

"Brought," Millicent said pleasantly, snapping her fingers. Where Rhonda had stood was now a lump of coal, which Millicent pocketed. "I'll turn her back after the party." She patted Zack's shoulder. "Zombie or not, you can do better."

"Have you figured out what's in them?" Dooley asked, joining the cluster of teens around their Max-Mas boxes.

"Not yet," Ian replied. "We avoided all the unboxing videos."

"They're all the same size," Ari observed, "almost the same weight too."

"I bet it's cool," Ian grinned.

"I'm more interested in how their drone delivered to my balcony without my notice," Lucinda mused.

"Maximum Labs is good like that. Sure, they have a million present drones but-"

"2,300 per drone over 6.7 days," Lucinda calculated instantly. "Not impossible for such primitive technology."

"Mom's right," Dooley said. "You are smart."

"Your mother is kind and observant," Lucinda replied imperiously.

"So who's opening first?" Ian asked.

All eyes fell on him. Tearing into the paper, Ian revealed a set of seven-inch action figures - the complete Maximum Labs scientist collection. "These sold out in a week! It's exactly what I wanted!"

Dooley opened his next, revealing professional drawing supplies and leather-bound sketchbooks. "How did they know I like drawing?"

"Algorithm based on your searches," Lucinda said. "Though still... impressive."

Ari stared at her gift. "But I don't have a Maximum Labs phone." Opening it revealed exactly that, complete with a case and a note reading "Secured."

"How did they-"

"Cheeky mortals," Lucinda examined her phone. "They tracked my calls to you."

"I'm glad they're the good guys," Ian started.

"For now," Lucinda finished. "I think I'll keep an eye on them."

Finally, Lucinda opened her gift. Inside sat a snow globe containing a black horse rearing on its hind legs, flames shooting from its nostrils. A button underneath played her and Millicent's Wintersmarch song from the holiday concert.

"Someone recorded our performance, so the music makes sense," Lucinda mused.

"But the horses..." Ari added.

"Garrison," Ian said quietly.

Dooley looked confused, but Lucinda's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. Perhaps the scientist had remembered more than intended. Something to consider... after the holidays

The party had settled into a contented lull, everyone full of holiday treats and good cheer. Millicent's viola filled the air with haunting music that somehow made the falling snow outside seem magical - though with the Nightbane sisters, perhaps it was.

Lucinda, watching the festivities, found herself reluctantly admitting that while these Earth holidays weren't Wintersmarch, they did have their merits. Particularly the pies. Definitely the pies.

"Here," she said, handing Ari a small box. Inside gleamed a silver bracelet that, with a twist, extended into a perfectly sized flying broom complete with metal keel.

Ari's eyes lit up. "It's beautiful!"

For Ian, Lucinda produced a spherical package. He unwrapped it to reveal an iridescent orb.

"A Dream Orb," Lucinda explained. "Tell it what you wish to dream about before bed."

"This is amazing!" Ian breathed.

"Close your eyes," Lucinda instructed. "I have one more gift."

Ian's heart skipped, his eyes shutting hopefully.

"By the way," Lucinda's voice turned wickedly sweet, "what exactly is 'Code 13' and how dare you report me to Millicent?"

Ian's eyes flew open just as Lucinda's fingers snapped. In an instant, where Ian had stood was a small brown mouse.

Ari scooped up mouse-Ian gently. "I could turn him back... but he did kind of deserve this."

"An hour or two as a rodent should teach him about betrayal," Lucinda said with imperial satisfaction. "Come along, Ari. Millicent's starting the Wintersmarch Lullaby."

As they joined the crowd around Millicent, mouse-Ian scurrying behind them, Lucinda allowed herself a small smile. Perhaps Earth holidays weren't so terrible after all - especially when one could celebrate them properly imperial style.