A Letter to the Giftmaker - Chapter 24

Edwin stared into the dark abyss of the ravine. Beside him, Jo lifted the lantern, though it made no difference as the light did not reach more than a dozen feet out in the blizzard. It was like staring into a cauldron of molasses.

Each snowflake that fluttered past made Edwin's heart leap for a moment, thinking the letter had returned, but then it fell back again. He refused to blink as he scanned the night. He could find it if he just looked hard enough. His shaking hands rubbed his arms in a desperate attempt to remain warm.

"I don't see anything," Jo said. He leaned out precariously over the edge.

"Stay back!" Edwin yanked his friend away from the cliff. "It's not worth falling for."

"It's wishpaper," Harriet said. "Your wishpaper. Everything you ever wanted."

He shook his head. "It's not worth dying for."

The storm kept getting worse. He was freezing, and he could see the other two shivering. They had to get inside. They wouldn't find the letter until daylight, if even then.

"It's gone," Edwin said.

Jo shook his head. "No, we can find it."

Edwin grabbed his hand. "We need to get somewhere warm before we get frostbite or worse."

"No!" Harriet scrambled through the snow and grabbed their hands. "We can't give up. I can't fail you. I can't–"

"Stop." He was surprised at how forceful his voice was. "This isn't your fault. You handed it to me. I should've had a better grip."

"But now–"

"Now, we need to get inside." He tugged on her hand and she nodded.

It took another five minutes to find their way to the slightly more shallow snow by the gate. Jo discovered the gate was not locked, merely  latched, and they hurried onto the estate.

The drive itself wasn't visible, just the long curving clearing of fresh snow that wound through the trees. The walk was much easier with only two inches of snow instead of the knee-high snow of the forest. Soon, they arrived outside the Giftmaker's mansion.

What had looked like a glowing golden dollhouse from the top of the hill an hour earlier was now a dark and imposing brick block. All of the exterior lamps had been extinguished and the curtains had been pulled tight. Only the faintest hint of life and light came from inside.

A massive oak door loomed before them. He swallowed hard. The lapel of his coat was rough beneath his fingers as he tugged on it in an attempt to ignore his churning stomach. After a deep, cold breath, he rapped twice against the dark wood.

After a long minute of only the wind howling around them, the door slowly creaked open. A short man in a white shirt and black vest looked out into the night. "What are you doing here?"

Edwin stepped in front of the other two. "Are you the Giftmaker?"

The man chuckled softly. "You think the great Giftmaker would answer his own door? I am employed by him to manage the estate. Mr. Morris." His hand remains by his side.

Edwin tried to look around the door into the foyer. "We came to see the Giftmaker."

Another dark chuckle. "He does not accept callers, especially ones who do not inform him well ahead of time." He sighed. "If you wish to leave a calling card, you may."

Just inside the door was an overflowing basket of calling cards. Either the Giftmaker had not checked them in months, or he received a lot of visitors.

Harriet stepped forward, gently pushing Edwin aside. "We actually came to deliver a letter."

"All letters must be sent through standard post to–"

"I know, I know. But I am... planning to be a letter carrier, and it is my fault the letter didn't get properly delivered."

Mr. Morris looked her over. "An apprentice?"

She shook her head. "Not yet. But I was practicing and caused his letter to not be delivered."

He considered her for a moment before holding out his hands. "Very well, I will accept the letter."

"We don't actually have the letter anymore," Harriet said. "We lost it in the blizzard."

Another weary sigh. "Then why are you even here?"

"Can we come in to warm up?" Jo asked. "We've been outside almost all day. We just need ten minutes, and then we'll leave."

"The Giftmaker is not kind to those who demand things of him."

Edwin stepped forward again. "I am not demanding anything. I am only asking. If the answer is no, then we will leave."

Harriet looked over. "Edwin–"

He held up a hand, and she shut her mouth. Mr. Morris locked eyes with him and he returned the stare.

"Very well," he finally relented. "Follow me to the lounge."

They stepped out of the blizzard and into a dimly lit grand foyer. On the domed ceiling thirty feet above an ornate fresco of a dozen children opening presents. Marble columns lined the foyer, each carved to look like a stack of presents. Metal sconces, currently unlit, were shaped like the pine trees that surrounded the estate.

Edwin only had a few seconds to take in the view until they were ushered into a small room to the right of the entrance. It wasn't objectively small, being almost the size of The Chiming Bell tavern, but it felt small after the vastness of the foyer.

"You may warm yourself by the fire." Mr. Morris glared at their wet clothes. "Please don't ruin the furniture."

He strode out and shut the door firmly behind him. Edwin hurried over to the fireplace, holding his hands out for the glorious heat of the flames. After a minute, his fingers finally began to thaw.

"Jo, stay off the couch," Harriet ordered.

"Oh, right." Jo sprang up, but there was already a damp spot. "Sorry, but we've been standing all day. Can't we just sit for a minute?"

"You already got it wet. You said yourself how vindictive the Giftmaker can be."

Edwin looked down at the puddle forming on the hearthstone below his own feet. "We can't stay here long without getting in trouble. What do we do now?"

"I'm sure Silas would let us stay at his place."

"That's three hours away," Edwin said. "And that was not during a blizzard."

Harriet paced by the window, occasionally pushing the curtain back to look out. "I think there's a village just over the next hill. We could probably make it there and see if anyone could help us."

He nodded. "That's our best plan. We'll head out in five minutes." He desperately wanted just a bit more time to defrost himself.

The other nodded and joined him around the fire. He stared at the orange flames, carefree and happy as they danced across the log and sang their crackling song. Maybe he should've wished to feel like that.

A minute before he intended to leave, the door to the lounge opened. A dour Mr. Morris stood there.

"We'll go," Edwin said quickly, fingers fumbling with his coat buttons. "We're going right–"

Mr. Morris held up his hand. "The Giftmaker has summoned you."

Silence settled over the room, broken only by the mocking snaps of the flames. It was time to face their punishment.