Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen... Comet, Cupid, Donner, Blitzen.

Holly read the list and sighed. The same names, this year as every year. The same team that would hitch up to Santa's sleigh, all those little bells sparkling and ringing like crystal over the snow as the sun set on Christmas Eve. The same reindeer, the same honor, every year.

And on Christmas Eve, she'd stand with the others -- the reindeer, the dutiful elves, Mrs. Claus -- and sing them out on their journey, on that wonderful flight. And then Mrs. Claus would have the annual Eve party, with plenty of wassail and cocoa and sugar cookies, and sometime during that, Holly would slip away and go back home, back to her stall in the barn they all shared, and she'd pass by those brass nametags engraved gorgeously with those eight names -- and she'd wish, just for once, that her name was there, too.

"The old eight-buck special again, huh?"

She turned from the list to see Garland, her best friend, approaching. Holly worked in the post office, sorting and delivering the letters that came in. Garland worked next door in the Christmas candy department, a job that left him on a perpetual sugar high.

He playfully butted her shoulder with his antlers. "Hey, cheer up, Holl. Maybe they'll get the flu or something. All that training in cold weather can't be good for them."

"It isn't fair." Holly knew she'd said it a hundred times every year, but she also knew that Garland didn't mind. "They should at least have team-choosing, like they did in the old days."

"Yeah, but they'd still win. No offense."

Holly sighed again. "None taken." She knew it was true. Sure, she could fly as well as anyone, but the team was in better shape than any of the other reindeer. They had to be. A short flight here or there was one thing, but Santa's team rode the Eve Stream, the magic current that allowed them to travel the world in one night. And that took more skill than any untrained reindeer could hope to have.

"Well, they can't keep going forever," said Garland. "We're four winters younger than they are. Almost five. We'll get our shot one of these days." He ran a circle around her. "Come on, Holly. Cocoa at Sugarplum's, my treat."

Sugarplum's was a cozy spot, all gingerbread-decorated on the outside, but filled with comfortable booths for the elves and a long, low bar for the reindeer. Sugarplum's served coffee, tea, the best hot chocolate anywhere (magic ingredients were rumored), and all kinds of pastries and sweets. Santa himself favored Sugarplum's chocolate chip cookies over any other, and he came by after his run every year to have one. (Holly was amazed he could eat any more after all those plates of cookies.)

Holly and Garland stepped up to the bar, and a willowy young elf smiled and came to serve them. "Hi, guys."

Garland smiled back. "Hi, Pyx. How's business?"

"Not bad. Lots of take-out; everybody's busy." Pyx gave the bar a quick wipedown, then leaned toward them and propped her elbows on the wet surface. "So what do you think?"

Holly frowned, confused, then saw the tiny gems winking at the tips of Pyx's delicately pointed ears, just below her short brown hair. One was ruby, the other emerald.

"I thought it'd be festive. You know, red and green?" Pyx offered.

"They look nice," Holly said.

"They look really good on you," Garland chimed in. Holly bit back a smile. Garland had had a crush on Pyx for two seasons now, and it showed no signs of letting up.

"The usual?" Pyx asked. They nodded, and Pyx scribbled a few quick lines on her pad. "Two bowls of cocoa, one" -- to Holly -- "with extra milk, the other" -- Garland -- "with whipped cream and chocolate sprinkles. Be right back." She disappeared into the maze of machinery and shining brass pipes to one side of the counter.

"Listen, Holl," said Garland, "I don't blame you for being upset. It isn't fair, you're right. Everybody should have the same chance. But you're never going to feel better about it until you do something about it."

"Like what?"

"Like take it to the top."

"You mean--Santa?" Holly blinked. "I can't--what would I--"

"You ask to see him, and you state your case. What have you got to lose?"

Pyx brought their cocoa. Holly stared into hers for a moment. Her first thought was, "It can't be that simple." Then, to her surprise, she found herself saying, "Well, maybe I could... But why would he listen to me?"

Garland lifted his muzzle from his cocoa. "Because, team or no team, you're one of his reindeer. Santa's reindeer. The nobility of the North Pole, the respected, the determined, the steadfast--What?"

Holly tried to stop laughing. "The nobility of the North Pole has whipped cream on his nose."

Garland licked his muzzle and smiled. "Well, obviously I'm not cut out for the job, but you are. So go get it."

Holly finished her cocoa, then took a deep breath. "Okay. You're right. Well--wish me luck."

The bored-looking elf at the desk barely looked up from the scroll he was studying. "You'll have to make an appointment."

"Well..." Holly shrugged. "Okay."

"He's very busy this time of year, you know... How's April for you?"

"April!" Holly shook her head. "No, it can't wait that long. I need to speak with him as soon as possible. Immediately, really. Are you sure I can't just--"

"Sorry, I already told you. He's busy. Now, should I put you down for the sixteenth... say, ten a.m.?"

Holly sighed. "No, that's okay. Thanks anyway."

"Have a nice day."

Holly left the gatekeeper's cottage and trudged back through the snow. There was nothing else to do, then, but go back to work, for another Christmas.

"Holly!"

She turned. It was Ginger, another reindeer from the post office, pulling a small sled piled with sacks of letters. "Can you take these?" she asked. "I'm supposed to be on break, but Aurora's out sick--"

"Sure." She ducked her head into the harness. "Where do they go?"

"The main mailroom at Santa's office. Go in the back way over there; it's faster." The wind picked up, and Ginger shivered. "I think it gets colder up here every year. Thanks, Holly."

"No problem." Holly set off through the gate again, toward the grand estate that was Santa's home. She had to go slowly -- really, they'd piled too much on the thing. Once, the sled tipped, and one of the sacks fell into the snow, but Holly righted the sled and tossed the sack back into place.

She passed the gatekeeper's cottage again, head held high. Here, at last, was a way to get inside.

Santa's home was a cross between a castle and the largest gingerbread house imaginable -- huge, but not imposing. The back door opened for her, and an elf with a neatly-trimmed white beard ushered her inside. "Come in, come in. Cold out there even with that coat of yours. More letters, hm? More every year, I declare. Well, nothing to do but take them in. Getting too old for this kind of lifting, I tell you. Still, wouldn't trade it for anything else." He gathered up the sacks and headed down a hallway. "Much obliged to you," he called back. "Trust you can see yourself out, no disrespect intended."

When he was gone, Holly glanced around the room. A maze of corridors branched out, and she could hear footsteps and hurried talk coming from some of them.

One of these hallways led to Santa's office. She had no idea which one it was, but she'd come this far and wasn't about to turn around. She hesitated a moment, then ducked into the nearest one.

Every wall was hung with evergreens, holly, and the occasional sprig of mistletoe. Lanterns burned with bright, warm light, and Holly thought she could smell gingerbread baking somewhere. Every so often, she heard voices, but thankfully none of them were coming her way.

At last she found herself standing before two large, ornately carved wooden doors, and she knew this was the place. It was strange that she'd found it so easily... She was reminded suddenly that some said the elf-magic that built Santa's home gave it something of a mind of its own. The thought was a little unsettling, but she wasn't going to argue with it. She leaned her weight against one of the doors, and it slowly pushed open.

The room was bright but cluttered with old parchment scrolls, stacks of leather-bound volumes, weather charts and maps, and several clocks chiming at odd intervals. On an old wooden desk sat two new inventions: a telephone and a computer. Santa sat before the desk, glaring at the monitor.

"Blasted machine! I ought to--" He noticed Holly. "Oh. Hello there. Know anything about computers? This thing" -- he waved a hand at it as if he really wanted to hit it -- "has some kind of bug in it. Half the good kids in the world are on the coal list. Give me the old system anytime." He picked up one of the scrolls and unrolled it. "This, at least, I can understand... You know they want to give me a website now? Children emailing their letters. Can you imagine?"

Holly swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. "Um... no, I can't. I'm sorry to disturb you--"

"Don't worry about it. I needed a break." He adjusted his glasses and sat back in his chair. "So, what brings you here? You're... ah..." He searched for the name. "Ivy, is it?"

"Holly. Sir," she added awkwardly. "I wanted to talk to you about... Well, about your team."

Santa rubbed his eyes wearily. "This isn't about Cupid and his remarks to some of the does, is it? I've spoken with him several times--"

"No, not that. It's about how the team is chosen. You see, sir, some of the-- some of us who are younger, we've never had the chance to try out. And we'd like to."

"Hmmm." Santa considered this. "Well, you know, Holly, it isn't just a matter of wanting to be on the team, or being fast enough, or strong enough. I need a team with experience, who can work together, who know the route. The deer on my current team are best suited for all of that." He picked up the telephone and punched in a number, then glanced back at Holly. "If you like, I can start a waiting list."

Holly shook her head. She felt like crying, but this was no time or place. "No, thank you."

"Well, I'm sorry I couldn't help you. But I'm sure you're doing a fine job where you are. You know, Ivy, everyone's job here is important, no matter-- Hello? Tech support? Yes, this is Santa, I'm calling from the North Pole, and I-- Hello? Hello?"

He hung up and dialed again. Holly left quietly.

Snow began falling gently as Holly walked toward home, back to the reindeer quarters. Well, at least she'd done something. She'd tried. But neither of those thoughts really helped. She remembered that she'd left the mail sled inside, then decided she didn't care. She wasn't going back there right now, not for anything.

She had just left Santa's estate when she spotted something lying in the snow.

It was a letter, addressed in red and green marker. The envelope was torn most of the way open, and it was wet from being half-covered by the drifting snow. Holly picked it up, wrinkling her nose at the taste of cold, soggy paper.

It must have fallen out of one of the mailbags, she figured. She should take it back to Santa, but... She sighed and looked back at the estate.

She'd get Ginger to take it back tomorrow. It would still get to Santa in plenty of time, with no harm done. She carried it back to her stall, settled in on the straw, and tried to fight her curiosity. A few minutes later, she gave in and opened the envelope the rest of the way. There was a single sheet inside, covered with careful printing.

"Dear Santa,

"Merry Christmas. How are you? I hope you and Mrs. Claus and the reindeer are good."

That was nice, Holly thought.

"I know my friends would laugh at me if they knew I was writing, but I don't care. They don't believe in you anymore, they think they're too old."

Some friends, Holly thought. How could you not believe in Santa? She shook off that uncomfortable thought and kept reading.

"For Christmas I want a baseball glove. A really good one, if you can. Right now I have to use my brother's old one, and it doesn't fit.

"Maybe if I have a better glove, I can get on the baseball team. It's all boys, and they don't want to let me play. But I'm just as good as they are..."

Holly sighed for what felt like the twentieth time that day. So humans were the same way. It didn't help her mood.

"So that's what I want for Christmas. The glove, and a spot on the team, if you can. Thanks, your friend, Caitlin."

Holly read the letter again, trying to imagine the girl writing it, what she looked like, where she lived. No doubt Caitlin would get her gift; that was easy. Maybe Santa could even work some kind of magic to give her a place on the team.

But what she wanted, Holly knew, was a friend. A real friend. Someone who understood.

Then she got the idea. She spent the next several minutes trying to talk herself out of it, but finally got up and went to Sugarplum's.

"Pyx, would you write a letter for me?"

Pyx handed an elf his candy cane mocha. "Secret admirer, huh?"

When the customer was gone, Holly explained, and Pyx frowned slightly. "I don't know. Shouldn't you just let Santa handle it? I mean, that's what he does."

"Come on, Pyx. I'll give the letter to him, and she'll get her present. But she really needs a friend, and I can be her friend."

"Well... okay, I guess. Come back just before closing."

Holly agreed, and she was waiting patiently that night at nine forty-five. Sugarplum's closed at ten, and everyone else had already left, except for a smitten elf couple cooing over each other in a back corner booth.

"Okay." Pyx dried the bar and spread out a sheet of paper. "What do you want to say?"

"Tell her..." Holly wasn't sure where to start. "Tell her I know just how she feels."

"Did you tell her you were a reindeer?" Garland asked the next day. They both had the day off and were hiking through Christmas Park, the forest of firs and pines.

Holly stopped. "No, I didn't think to. Garland--you won't tell anyone, will you?"

"That you're a reindeer? I think it's common knowledge, Holl."

She wasn't sure whether to smile or roll her eyes. "You know what I mean."

"Of course I wouldn't tell. I mean, we're friends, aren't we?"

She nuzzled him lightly. "Yes, we are. Thank you."

As Christmas drew closer, everyone somehow got even busier. The team began doing dry runs with the sleigh packed based on the year's toy weight estimates. Sugarplum's stayed open later as workers came to unwind after longer shifts. Holly's work finally slowed as the last letters to Santa trickled in.

Holly picked up a sack of mail and loaded it on the cart, then turned back to Ginger. "But haven't you ever wanted to be part of it?"

"You mean the team?" Ginger tossed her head in a shrug. "Sure, when I was little. Everybody wants to, then."

"What changed?"

"I grew up. Oh, no offense, Holly, really. But you know, if they want to run all over the place one night a year, I say they can keep it. Sounds exhausting to me. And between you and me" -- she dropped her voice to a whisper -- "Santa's not exactly getting any lighter. To tell you the truth, I feel kind of sorry for those guys."

"Hey, Holly?"

Holly turned to see one of the elves holding up an envelope. "I think this one's for you."

Holly looked closer and saw the address written in red and green marker. HOLLY, it read. NORTH POLE.

"Um... I guess it is." Holly took the letter and tucked it under the holly-patterned scarf she was wearing.

"Love note from Garland?" the elf teased.

"We're just friends."

"Yeah, sure."

Holly bit back a reply. Did the elves ever do anything besides talk and gossip?

"Just ignore her," Ginger said quietly as she passed by.

"But... do you think..." Holly wasn't even sure she wanted to ask. "What if she's right?"

"Well," Ginger said, "I guess you're the last one to know, but... I don't think Pyx is the one he has the crush on anymore."

Holly couldn't think of anything to say. Ginger frowned. "What's the matter? Don't you like him?"

Holly swallowed. "Of course I like him, but..." She shook her head. "It's just -- complicated."

"Is it?" Ginger asked. "Seems pretty simple to me." The gingerbread cuckoo clock chimed, and Ginger sighed. "Finally. I'm out of here. Holly... Think about it, okay? Give the guy a chance."

"Okay... Bye, Ginger."

Holly carried the last empty mail sack over to the pile, dropped it, and nearly ran into Garland when she turned around.

"Oh--hi," she managed, startled.

"Holly! Follow me, quick!" He was grinning and practically bouncing with excitement. "Come on, hurry -- it's a surprise!"

She didn't think she wanted any more surprises, but she couldn't very well tell him that, so she followed him outside, past the mail complex, out to a stretch of snow.

"The practice field?" she asked.

"Just a little farther. Come on, you'll love it!" He bounded ahead of her, nearly flying. Holly shook her head and followed. What on earth had he been taste-testing today?

They reached the barn where the sleigh was stored, and Garland pushed the door open. It was dark inside, and she hesitated when Garland leapt ahead. "Um... Garland?" she called into the shadows. "I don't think we're supposed to be here."

"Well... no," Garland admitted, "but the team's done with practice today. Nobody's coming back, not for awhile. C'mere, stand here..."

Holly went inside and stopped. Garland was standing in one of the team harnesses, still hitched to the sleigh after the late practice.

"Come on! Nobody's here. Try it out."

"Well..." Holly looked around, hesitated another moment, then stepped into the harness. Garland tugged the straps into place, jingling the little bells on the reins. There were a few straps he couldn't fasten very well, but it was enough to get the feeling.

So this was what it was like... Holly glanced back over her shoulder at the sleigh, imagining it full of toys and Santa dressed in his fine red coat, ready to head out and make everyone happy for one night of the year...

"How does it feel?" Garland asked.

The daydream faded. Holly turned her head, feeling the weight of the silver bells. "It feels..."

She sighed. She couldn't lie to herself, and no matter how much she wanted to, she couldn't lie to him either. "It feels fake."

Garland hung his head, then came to help her out of the harness. "I'm sorry. I thought you'd like it."

She shook her head. "No, I'm sorry. It's not your fault." When they were out of the barn and on their way back to the reindeer stalls, she stopped and nuzzled him lightly. "You meant well. It's just me."

"I just wanted you to be happy," he said. "At least for a few minutes. It seems..." He paused, then rushed ahead. "It seems like you aren't, very much, anymore."

"It's hard to explain." Harder still, she thought, because part of it had to do with whether he was still just her friend or something else. Something more. And she had enough to deal with, without adding that, too...

"If there's anything I can do to help..." He trailed off. "I mean, anything. Really."

They had reached the reindeer stalls, and Holly turned to the does' quarters. "Thanks, Garland."

She felt like he was expecting her to say something else, something more. But whatever it was, she couldn't say it. "See you tomorrow," she said finally.

He nodded, and she went inside. The letter was scratching against her neck, and against her curiosity, too. She absently chewed a few mouthfuls of grain, then tore the envelope open and read the letter inside.

"Dear Holly,

"Thanks for writing me back. I know you said Santa is real, but it's hard to believe sometimes. But I don't think I'm going to get anything from him anyway."

Holly's ears swiveled forward. What was this?

"I didn't mean to get into the fight. I didn't start it. They were teasing me, and the biggest boy wasn't going to let me by and I couldn't get around. They said I was never going to be on the team anyway because girls weren't allowed. The worst part is they're right.

"So I guess I won't get the glove because I haven't been good and Santa would know it. But if I can't be on the team anyway, it doesn't matter.

"I hope you get whatever you want for Christmas. You've been a good friend to write back to me.

"Love, Caitlin."

Holly read the letter twice, her heart pounding with a mixture of hurt and anger.

She deserved that glove. It wasn't her fault. Okay, the fight was a mistake, sure, but Santa understood mistakes. Didn't he?

There was only one way to be sure.

Holly stood, shook straw from her coat, and went to see Santa.

She felt a little guilty about lying to the gatekeeper, but since it wasn't the same elf she'd seen before, she figured no one would find out. For all this elf knew, Holly really did have an appointment. And by the time they checked the logs over again, she'd have this whole thing straightened out.

This time, an elf led her into Santa's office. It looked pretty much the same as it had before, except that there were even more scrolls piled around -- one pile being used as a napping spot for Mistletoe, Mrs. Claus' gray tabby. The computer screen looked a bit different, too: This time, it was displaying half a dozen error messages.

"Reindeer to see you, sir," the elf said, and slipped out.

"Hm?" Santa turned from the computer. "Oh, hello, Ivy. Back for that waiting list? Let me find a blank scroll, here..."

She decided it wasn't worth correcting him about her name. "Actually, sir, I needed to check which list a girl is on."

"All right, let's see..." Santa adjusted his glasses, tapped a few keys, clicked the mouse several times, and frowned at the screen.

"Well, Ivy, I'm sorry to say this, but she's on the naughty list this year. Something to do with a fight -- says here she hit someone. Very serious, I'm afraid."

"Can you -- can you check again?"

He ran the search again. "Still the same. I'm very sorry. Perhaps if she's good next year."

"But it wasn't her fault. She--"

Santa shook his head. "I'm sorry, but I can't make exceptions. Next thing you know, everyone would be on the nice list -- and that wouldn't be fair to all the children who have been good this year, now, would it?"

"Can't you check just one more time?" Holly pleaded.

Santa sighed. "I appreciate your concern, Ivy, I really do. But believe me, I've checked it. I'm supposed to check the lists twice, and because of this thing" -- he glared at the computer -- "I've had to check them four or five times, and I'm behind on everything else. At the rate I'm going, Christmas Eve should be the twenty-seventh. Now, if you'll excuse me, I really do have to get back to my work." And he turned back to the computer.

Holly tried again. "Sir, I can explain--"

"I'm sorry, but I'm simply swamped here. I'm sure she'll be on the nice list next year." Santa rang a small bell, and the elf reappeared. "Jingle, would you show her out, please?"

Holly followed the elf out of Santa's office, her mind spinning with everything she should have said. Her anger surprised her. All this time she'd believed in Santa... Now she wasn't so sure.

I'd give her that glove myself if I could, she thought bitterly as she neared the elves' workshops.

And then she stopped, right in the middle of the snowy street, half-excited and half-terrified by the idea that came to her.

Garland choked on a mouthful of cocoa. "Holly, come on, that's -- that's crazy," he sputtered, coughing. "You can't -- you don't even know where she lives!"

"Yes, I do," Holly said calmly. "It's in her letter."

When Garland recovered, he took another gulp of his cocoa, licked whipped cream from his muzzle, and lowered his voice in case any of the other patrons at Sugarplum's were listening. "You're talking about stealing, for one thing. And you'd have to run the Eve Stream to get there in time, and that's nowhere near stable for another two nights. It's too dangerous."

Holly sipped her cocoa.

"I'm sorry she isn't getting her present," Garland said quietly. "But that's no reason to go off and do all of this."

"It isn't fair to her."

"And it isn't fair that you can't be part of the team, either. But you can't make everything right."

"I can make one thing right for her."

"Holly..." Garland closed his eyes briefly. "I just..." He took a deep breath and continued. "I don't know what I'd do if something happened to you. Just... think about everything, okay?"

The emotion in his voice startled her, and she looked down at the counter to escape his gaze. "I will."

And she did, late into that night, lying awake in her stall, listening to the wind rushing against the barns.

She couldn't believe she was considering it. Garland was right -- it was crazy. She'd never be able to handle the journey. Never mind that she'd be stealing, or that she'd be going against Santa himself, who should know better than anyone which children deserved gifts...

He should know, she thought, but this time he's wrong. Maybe he's right every other time, but not this time.

But she'd tried to tell him. She'd done her best. She'd done everything that could be expected, really...

Not everything.

Holly stood and carefully made her way out of her stall and out of the stables, heading for the elves' toy warehouse.

Snow was falling steadily -- a good thing, since it would hide her tracks. She stopped and glanced back; already her hoofprints were filling with new snow.

The warehouse wasn't locked; none of the buildings ever were or had reason to be. After tonight, she thought grimly, they might have to think about it.

Inside, rows of wooden shelves held the various toys prepared for that year. Some were still handmade by the elves, and there was a deep, rich scent of wood shavings in the room. Others were manufactured by magic, looking -- to any human who would see them -- as if they'd been taken from store shelves.

Holly squinted in the dim moonlight, searching the shelves. She brushed against something that cried out, setting her heart pounding -- until she realized it was one of the talking dolls.

She held her breath and waited, but everything was silent.

Finally she found the right aisle, where a row of fine, oiled leather baseball gloves waited.

She panicked for a second. She didn't know the right size, how would she choose? What if she took it all that way and it wasn't right?

Then she looked closer and realized that all the gloves were the same size. The oil on them had a light golden shimmer, and she remembered something she'd heard long ago, maybe as a fawn. Each one, thanks to elf-magic, would fit its owner perfectly.

Relief flooded her, and she realized she was shaking. She paused, took a deep breath to calm herself, and took a glove from the shelf.

A glint from the corner caught her eye, and she froze, then relaxed as she realized what it was. The elves kept wrapping paper and ribbon, and the moonlight had caught one of the silver-and-gold bows.

Well, a gift should be wrapped... She took the glove to the wrapping table and wrapped it, slowly but determinedly, in the nicest paper she could find. She hoped it looked okay; it was hard to wrap anything when you didn't have hands.

And there was another problem, she realized. She couldn't very well carry the package in her mouth the whole time. She thought for a few moments, then searched the shelves and found a small backpack that, with some creative adjusting of the straps, fit her well enough to stay on. And the glove fit inside perfectly.

Now I'm stealing two things, she thought with dismay. But there was no other way to do it. And all of a sudden, two things didn't seem that much worse than one. Plus, if you counted the wrapping paper, and the ribbon, and the tape...

She shook her head. There was no counting it up, not now.

She carefully closed the warehouse door behind her. It creaked once, but no one came, and no lights went on in the other buildings.

She stood in the silence, feeling the unusual weight of the backpack on her back. The wind skimmed over the snowdrifts, kicking up swirls of white flakes. It was not only the wind and snow that were stinging her eyes.

Was it worth it? She might never be able to come back, not to what she had before.

But what did she have? A life of sorting mail from children who looked to Santa to fulfill her dreams, when she knew he didn't seem to have any interest in fulfilling her own? A life of reading those same names, again and again, every year, and sighing with regret and depression and -- she knew it would happen -- bitterness?

A life of wondering what could have been?

She thought of Garland, briefly. Him, she would miss, no matter what. But whatever he felt for her, he was probably just fooling himself, anyway. They were friends, and she would miss that terribly if she didn't return. But he'd be all right without her.

Wouldn't he?

She shook the snow from her coat and went forward.

The Eve Stream ran close to the ground at the practice field, and Holly could feel the current thrumming against her body, a bit like a strong breeze, but one that tingled in her blood instead of ruffling her coat.

She gathered herself and leapt -- and found herself running in midair. The first surprise made her almost lose her balance, but she recovered quickly enough to find a good stride. The current traveled with her, propelling her much faster than she could ever have run on her own.

She ran for hours, her hooves kicking up a faint golden shimmer, the Eve Stream's power thrilling through her. Below her, the landscape changed from the darkened homes of the North Pole to the empty stretches of snow. Above her, the clear starry sky began to change, too, as a thick blanket of clouds slowly moved in.

The wind picked up, and an icy mix of sleet and snow began falling. Holly shivered but kept running, adjusting her stride a little to compensate for the wind. It's okay, she told herself, I can handle this. Just a bit of wind and snow. No problem.

Five minutes later, it was snowing so hard she could barely see. The Eve Stream's golden shimmer had faded, and the wind gusts threatened to blow her sideways. Still, she gritted her teeth, squinted against the stinging sleet, and kept running, almost automatically, her legs feeling suddenly numb in a way that would have scared her if she'd had any time to think about it.

Then the Eve Stream shifted beneath her, the current rolling like a shorebound wave.

Holly tried to compensate, stumbled, and fell.

She plunged into deep snow, the shock numbing her body. She raised her head but could see nothing but whiteness, hear nothing but the wind howling at her, endlessly. She struggled to keep her eyes open, but she was so tired all of a sudden... She knew she had to get up, keep going, but she wasn't sure she could.

Holly's eyes closed to darkness.

Holly was awakened by a low, deep sound and the feeling of something -- something large -- very close by. She felt warm breaths hitting her face and slowly opened her eyes to see a huge polar bear standing over her.

She was too weak to run, and the Eve Stream was lost to her. She couldn't go back home. What was left? She closed her eyes and found enough breath to speak. "Just make it quick, please."

A heavy paw fell on her back.

"Here, now, it's too cold for you to be out like this, all tired and half-frozen."

Holly opened her eyes. The bear was looking at her, looking... Looking concerned?

"Aren't you one of Santa's?" the bear asked. Holly realized the voice was female.

Holly got to her feet slowly, aching all over, leaning against the bear for support. Then fear streaked through her. The glove. Where was her backpack -- had she lost it in the storm--

Then she saw that the bear had picked it up, carrying it by one strap. The zipper was still closed, and it bulged with the shape of the glove. Holly closed her eyes and sighed with relief, then remembered the bear's question. "Yes, I'm one of Santa's, but I--"

"Come on, time for all that later. Let's get you into the den and warmed up. Good thing I ran into you, or you wouldn't have lasted much longer. You were out all night in that storm?" The bear shook her head.

"But--" Holly was dizzy from exhaustion and hunger. "But--I thought you were--you were going to--"

The bear laughed, a sound that rang over the ice. "Nonsense, child. I don't eat anything that talks."

Holly let the bear help her across the seemingly-endless white expanse, until they reached a small cave hollowed out of the packed snow. Holly peered inside, and two sets of black eyes looked back at her.

"Here we are now," the bear said, "right inside, snuggle in."

Holly half-stepped, half-fell inside the cave. The bear came in last, her body sealing the den against the wind.

It was wonderfully warm inside, and Holly fought against sleep. There was a scrape of little claws on her back, and she blinked and saw two cubs climbing onto her.

The bear gave a short warning growl at the cubs. "Easy, you two, she's tired and who knows what else." When they tumbled off, the bear turned to Holly. "Now, maybe we can have a bit of an introduction. I'm Frostbite, and these adorable little furballs are my cubs, Blizzard and Snowdrop."

"I'm Holly. I was trying to ride the Eve Stream and get to... to see someone. But the storm came, and I couldn't handle the current."

Frostbite looked puzzled but interested. "Riding the Eve Stream? I thought only Santa's team did that, and it isn't Christmas Eve yet."

"They do. And--it isn't. But..." It was too much to explain, and she could hardly keep her eyes open.

She heard the bear chuckle. "Get some sleep. Time enough to talk tomorrow."

When Holly woke, she felt truly rested for the first time in days. Frostbite was nursing Blizzard and Snowdrop, but once they'd finished, she left the cubs in their den and led Holly out to a patch of snow where some pale grass still grew. Between bites, Holly told her the whole story. It felt good to tell it, felt good that someone else knew why she was doing this. And she felt, too, that the bear understood.

"So you'll be back on the Eve Stream today," Frostbite said with a nod. "I know where it comes close to the ground, easy to get on."

Holly remembered the storm and shivered. "I don't know..."

Frostbite's voice was quiet. "You've said yourself you can't go back. Not without making this right."

Holly sighed and closed her eyes, feeling the pack's weight on her back. "I want to... but I don't know if I can."

Frostbite leaned against her. "You've denned with me; you're as good as my own cub now. And any cub of mine knows that fish don't leap onto the ice for you. You've got to get your teeth cold going after them."

The bear looked out at the expanse of snow for a moment, then turned and passed her tongue over Holly's forehead in rough affection. "You may be a reindeer, Holly, but you have a bear's heart. You're strong enough for whatever has to be done, whether you know it or not. Now let's get you on your way."

Holly nodded, and followed Frostbite to the Eve Stream.

The sun was setting on Christmas Eve when Holly saw the town below her, and the welcome sign that told her she was in the right place. The Eve Stream dipped a bit in its course, then ran close enough to the ground for her to jump off in a little scattering of evergreens at the edge of town.

She stood for a moment on the thick bed of pine needles, resting. She recited the address to herself a couple of times, then stopped. How on earth was she going to find it? This was no big city, but it was larger than the North Pole, and she had no idea which direction to go. She could wander around for days... and with reindeer being an unusual enough sight, she had no idea how people might react to seeing one wearing a backpack.

"Good evening and Merry Christmas!" said a tiny voice next to her.

Holly jumped, then saw the speaker: a small gray squirrel.

"Oh--um--Merry Christmas," she replied.

The squirrel coughed politely. "Ah--if you don't mind," he said, "could you step just a bit to your left? Yes, that's perfect, thank you."

He dug through the snow and pine needles, then came up with a walnut.

"Put this one aside just for tonight," he explained. He paused, studying her. "We don't see many reindeer around here. You lost?"

"I guess I am," Holly admitted. "Do you know where Willow Street is?"

He cracked the shell and thought. "Can't say I do. But I know someone who probably does." He finished off the nut and tossed the shell aside. "Come on, he's probably just waking up about now."

The squirrel leaped ahead of her and bounded off toward the nearby houses. Some of the homes had already turned on their Christmas lights, and Holly tried to admire the bright strands of light while keeping the squirrel in sight at the same time. He was heading toward one of the houses that was still dark, near the end of the street.

"He's usually around here somewhere," the squirrel said. "Harley? You there?"

"Over here."

Holly wasn't sure what she was expecting to see, but the flashing glow of Christmas lights was reflected back from a black mask, and a raccoon ambled into sight.

"Harley Quickpaw," the squirrel introduced him. "Harley, this is--sorry, I didn't get your name--"

"Holly," she supplied.

"She's looking for Willow Street," the squirrel added. "You know it?"

"Sure. Four streets over from here. Couple of bird feeders, decent trash supply, house on the end partial to Chinese takeout, one idiot lap dog on the corner, all yip and no bite. I'll take you over."

Holly followed him through the streets, careful to keep as far out of sight as possible. The raccoon moved with surprising speed and agility, considering that he was, to Holly's eye, very ready for the leaner days of winter.

"Here we are, my dear," he said finally, stopping near the end of the street.

Holly found the house -- and stopped. She couldn't very well go down the chimney; the reindeer always stayed on the roof. "How am I going to get in?" she wondered aloud.

The raccoon's eyes glinted, and he smiled. "Not a problem. Back door doesn't latch too well..." He disappeared behind the house.

By the time Holly caught up with him, he was already at work on the door, prying the latch open with nimble paws. "Lift here," he said to himself, "and pull--here--"

The door swung open. "They really should lock this thing," he remarked. "Anyway, it's all yours."

"Thank you so much," Holly said.

"Hey, if you really wanted to thank me, you'd bring me something out of that fridge," Harley replied. Then, with a wink, "But you don't look like the type. Well, Merry Christmas, God bless us every one, and to all a good night!" And he was gone.

Holly stood in the darkened house a moment, getting her bearings. She was in a back hallway, looking into the kitchen and, farther ahead, the living room, where a faint glow of red and green and blue spilled over the walls.

She followed it to find a Christmas tree, brightly lit and sparkling with tinsel, with the family's gifts already piled underneath. It was all so warm and cozy: the tree, the presents, the stockings, the milk and cookies set out for Santa -- and a small pile of carrots and apples for the reindeer.

Holly's stomach growled. She crossed the room in a bound and was halfway through her second apple when she heard a skitter of claws.

Had Harley come back? She squinted into the shadows.

Then something clambered onto the table with a scratch of claws and jingle of collar tags, and she watched as a dacshund--barely more than a puppy--started eating the cookies.

"Hey!" Holly cried out before she could think. "Those are for San--"

The dog yelped in surprise, then started barking at her.

"Quiet!" He kept barking. Holly tried again. "Hush! Shhh! Oh, okay, eat the cookies!" She picked one up and tossed it him, but it was no use.

Holly looked around for a place to hide. He'd wake everyone up...

"Oscar! Quiet!"

A girl's voice. The dog hushed, finally. Holly froze.

The girl's gaze was on the dog when she entered the room, but then she saw Holly and stopped, her eyes widening. She was wearing an oversized baseball shirt instead of a nightgown. Caitlin, no question.

Holly shrugged off the backpack, tugged the zipper open, and took out the package. Holding it carefully, she offered it to Caitlin.

Caitlin's expression was uncertain but curious. She took the package gingerly, glanced at Holly, then tore off the paper. Her eyes lit up at the glove--and then she looked back at Holly, and everything came together.

"Holly?"

Holly trembled, swallowed, and managed to speak. "Merry Christmas, Caitlin."

She closed her eyes as Caitlin threw her arms around her. This is worth it, she thought. No matter what happens to me, it's worth it.

Then she heard the jingling of countless tiny silver bells -- and the skid and thump of a sleigh on the snow-covered roof -- and Santa stood before them both.

He saw Holly, and Caitlin, and last of all, the glove. And when Holly dared to look at him, she could see that he knew everything she'd done.

Santa gave Holly one glance -- one expression that held so many emotions she couldn't begin to decipher it -- and turned to Caitlin. "My dear," he said gently, "it's time for you to go back to bed."

He lightly touched her forehead, and she looked suddenly sleepy. He took her hand and led her back into her room.

When he returned, he looked tired. "She won't remember," he said.

Holly's heart sank. She wouldn't remember anything -- she wouldn't remember her. What good had she done if...?

Santa picked up the glove, his expression stern. "Can you explain this?"

Holly choked back a sob. She didn't feel like explaining anything. She'd tried to explain, she'd worked so hard just to get here, and now it was all for nothing.

Still... She thought, suddenly, of Frostbite. The bear would never stay silent, not when she was doing something that had to be done, no matter what anyone else thought.

Holly looked up, met Santa's gaze, and explained. She was amazed that her voice didn't break, didn't quaver, didn't fall off into a whisper.

"I tried to tell you, before," she finished. "But..."

"But I didn't listen."

Holly nodded.

Santa stroked his beard once, twice, a third time. "Well," he said finally. "Well. Let's get you back home, and we'll deal with this there." He laid the glove under the tree. "We'll leave this here, at least."

Holly tried to tell herself that was enough. She felt dizzy for just a moment, and then she was standing on the snow-covered roof. She climbed into the sleigh, keeping her expression as composed as she could, aware that the other eight reindeer were watching her. She was grateful when Santa finally snapped the reins and they took off. She was even more grateful when Caitlin's house dropped out of sight and there was nothing but the cold, still December night around them.

The trip seemed short, as if it had taken only a few minutes. Maybe it had. Holly felt too tired, in every way, to know for sure. She saw a crowd gathered by the landing field -- of course they'd all be out; Santa had never come back before the night was over. They would all be curious about what was going to happen to her.

She didn't realize she was scanning the crowd until she saw Garland at the front, just when they were landing. She looked away quickly, glad that their eyes hadn't met.

Santa motioned for Holly to step out of the sleigh, and for the reindeer to stay in harness. "We'll keep this quick," he declared. "We still have a long list of stops tonight.

"Holly."

She walked to his side, looked at the snow, and waited.

"Good work."

She looked up, feeling the same way as when she'd first met Frostbite. "Sir...?"

"There aren't many who would go against me, even if I was wrong. And it seems I was wrong. For all I'm supposed to know when children have been good or bad, I don't always get it right, I suppose." He addressed his head elf. "And I want that blasted machine out of my office when I come back!"

"But I stole the glove," Holly said, wondering why she was arguing with him.

"From what I saw," said Santa, "you delivered it. To its rightful owner, and right on time. Not the best method, maybe, but it worked.

"There is one more thing, though." Santa stroked his beard again, as if considering, then raised his voice to carry to the crowd.

"We have plenty of stops left to make tonight. Holly -- are you up to it?"

She was aware, without even looking, that Garland was grinning at her. "What?" she managed.

Santa turned to the two reindeer in front, Donner and Dasher. "Dasher, you sprained that hind leg earlier tonight, and you haven't complained once. Take the rest of the night off, now that we've got someone to fill in."

Holly watched carefully as Dasher's harness was undone. The reindeer really was limping, and she didn't think he could fake that wince every time his hoof hit the ground. Her heart pounded. It wasn't being set up for her, it wasn't just play-acting in an empty barn.

Then the harness was empty, and Santa held it open for her. "Well? We haven't got all night, you know."

It was only a few yards from where she stood to where Santa waited, but it felt longer than she could have imagined. She was dimly aware of cheering, especially from the gathered reindeer. She thought she heard Ginger shouting something encouraging, but she was aware, then, of nothing but the feeling of having the straps buckled, the bells ringing softly, the impatient pawing of the rest of the team. They were ready to go. And so was she.

An elf brought her a wooden bowl filled with something like alfalfa, except for the golden shimmer. "The whole team gets it, to keep up our strength," Donner explained. "No one's ever run the Stream without it." He paused and pawed the ground, embarrassed. "Well, except you, I guess."

She ate quickly, and just as she was swallowing the last bite, Santa climbed back into the sleigh. She felt the harness tighten as he picked up the reins. "Ready, team?"

The reindeer answered back in turn. Holly found Garland again. He was standing on his hind legs pawing the air, apparently trying to get her attention. She smiled back at him, then answered Santa. "Ready!"

She felt the crack of the reins in the air, and then they were running, making the short leap to catch the Stream, then turning to fly on its course. Their hooves kicked up golden sparks together, and Holly matched Donner stride for stride. She had never felt this strong before, and she knew that the feed she'd gotten was only part of it. For the first time in her life, she knew she was doing what she was meant to do. She could run all night if she had to. Every night. Every year...

Holly was tired but blissfully happy by the time they reached the last stop and Santa called the course for home. It had been a long night, but it was ending -- the sky had begun to lighten on the horizon.

Home, she thought happily. It was still her home, and she belonged there.

The sleigh landed, skidding a bit as the tired team misjudged the depth of the snow. Mrs. Claus came up to greet Santa with a kiss and one of Sugarplum's cookies, and Holly smiled, wondering which he looked forward to more. The elves unhitched the harnesses and rubbed the team down. Some of the reindeer went to their mates, others headed straight to Sugarplum's, and others to their quarters for bed. Holly knew where she wanted to be.

She found Garland. He still looked as excited as ever, and she had to fend off several joyous sparring head-butts until he calmed down.

"You're back!" he blurted out.

She chuckled. "Yes."

"I mean, you're okay, you made it, you..." Words finally failed him, and he sighed. "I'm so glad you're back."

"Me, too." She pressed her forehead against the base of his throat, closed her eyes, and felt his heart beating against her. There was something very comfortable about it... something very comfortable about him.

He pulled away slightly, and she opened her eyes. "I... um... have a Christmas present for you," he said. "Pyx has it."

He called to the elf, and she hugged Holly, then held out something in her palm: a candy cane, expertly twisted into a heart.

Garland scuffed the snow with one front hoof. "I made it. At work. I thought... maybe..."

"It's beautiful," she said softly. "Thank you. For everything." She nuzzled him, lightly at first, then more slowly. He sighed, his breath ruffling her coat.

Pyx cleared her throat, and the two pulled away. "Come on, you guys, that's enough," she said, arms crossed. Then she smiled. "I've got a back corner booth that's really good for that. How about some cocoa on the house?"

Holly looked back at Garland, and their eyes met. They didn't have to say anything, and the knowledge made her tremble in a way that wasn't entirely exhaustion and definitely wasn't fear. She may have been the last to know about the two of them -- but finally, she knew. She followed Pyx through the snow to Sugarplum's, with Garland at her side.

Holly woke slowly, aware that she was alone in the stall. She glanced beside her at the flattened straw. Where had he gone so early?

Then, just as she remembered what day it was, Garland came bounding in to the stall they now shared, scattering straw into the air. "The list's up! Come look!"

She fought the urge to roll her eyes. It wasn't as if he were keeping any secrets -- he'd never have dashed in so excited if she hadn't made the team. But she wanted to see the list anyway, just to remember what it felt like.

Christmas was coming again, and the town, as always, was bustling. Elves scurried back and forth from one building to another, carrying supplies and toys and piles of scrolls. She dodged two elves carrying packages, then ran into a third and had to apologize. She saw Blizzard and Snowdrop, Frostbite's cubs, pulling a small Christmas tree from the forest, and stopped to say hello. Finally, she caught up with Garland.

There was a group of reindeer crowded around the candy-cane-style pole where the scroll was posted. All of them -- some the old team members, some not -- were looking at the list, but as Holly approached, they stepped aside.

Holly read the list slowly.

Dasher...

Ginger. Holly couldn't help chuckling. Her friend hadn't grown out of the old wish after all, and she had surprised everyone -- including herself -- when she'd tried out months before.

She continued down the list.

Prancer... Comet... Donner...

Tinsel, a young buck she'd seen once or twice in town, named for his odd silver-gray coat that made him look much older. He'd been teased a lot for that, she knew, but everyone had fallen silent at his tryout.

Blitzen...

She noted Cupid's absence with a wry grin. No doubt Santa was finally taking those complaints seriously.

Then, her eyes reached the last name on the list, lettered in shining swirls of gold calligraphy, just like the others.

Holly.

The list blurred. She felt Garland beside her.

"You earned it," he said softly. "Just like everyone else."

"Hey, Holly!"

She turned, blinking back tears, to see Pyx coming toward them. The elf -- who had this year decided to dye her hair half red, half green -- was waving something in the air. As she got closer, Holly realized it was an envelope.

"A letter for you," Pyx explained.

Holly's heart gave a sudden, startling leap when she saw the envelope. Red and green marker. And very familiar handwriting...

"Caitlin," she breathed. "But Santa said she wouldn't remember..."

Pyx shrugged. "Looks like she remembered well enough. Want me to open it for you?"

Unable to speak, Holly nodded, and Pyx held out the sheet so she could read it.

"Dear Holly,

"I'm sorry I didn't write to you before, but I've been so busy I guess I forgot.

"Thanks again for the glove. They still didn't want to let me on the team, but I found some other kids who wanted to play and couldn't, and we started our own team. We only won one game this summer, but this year's going to be better. And we have a lot of fun anyway, even though I do like winning.

"So this Christmas, maybe you could tell Santa that what we really need is uniforms, so we can look like a real team.

"I was so glad to see you last year. My brother thinks I dreamed the whole thing. At first I thought I did, but then I found your letter and remembered.

"I'll try to stay up this year, in case you can come back.

"Merry Christmas from your friend,

"Caitlin"

"So how's she doing?" Garland asked.

Holly smiled. "Just fine."

She took the letter from Pyx, tucked it carefully under her scarf, and followed Garland to Sugarplum's for breakfast.

This work and all characters copyright 2003 Renee Carter Hall ("Poetigress"). May not be reprinted, reposted, or redistributed without written permission.