Wicked Wonderland by Lisa Whitefern

with a little silver ring with a Celtic symbol on it that she wore. Her fingernails were painted a delicate pale pink. When she spoke, it was almost a whisper. “I can see now there are things in this world that I never could have imagined. I guess a part of me has always suspected magic was real. But I wasn’t ready to face it. I was so hurt and shocked the day I walked in on you and Kris making love, but the truth is…” She stopped and looked up at him. “The truth is that all these years I’ve thought about it off and on because it…aroused me—the sight of you two together. I wasn’t ready for it at that age.”
    He swallowed, trying to stop himself from pouncing on her right that second. “We have plenty of time to talk about all of this later. But right now, I want you to grip on to the handle bar at your side and get ready. You’re about to experience what it’s like to fly in Santa’s sleigh.” She sucked in a breath of anticipation. He imagined her heart beating with excitement and smiled. He picked up the reins and stroked the butter-soft leather against his palm. “Are you ready?”
    She nodded, her full lips parted in a smile that made his heart stutter.
    “Hold on tight, then.”
    She wriggled over to the side and held on to the handle bar, her eyes wide with wonder.
    He slapped the reins and called out to the reindeer. “On Rudolph, on Dasher, on Dancer, on Prancer, on Vixen, on Comet, on Cupid, on Donner and Blitzen!”
    He heard Lilly’s gasp of amazement at the familiar words, and he chuckled to himself. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lilly grit her teeth and grip the handle bar tighter as the reindeer reared and the sleigh lifted off the ground. The sleigh bells jingled, and the reindeer made soft snorting sounds. Beneath him, the sleigh bounced and rattled, and in front of him, the haunches of the reindeer rose and fell as they ascended, their heads bobbing and their hooves flashing. As always, he had a moment when he felt out of control of the animals, a moment of sheer beautiful terror.
    Then everything settled into place. The snow-covered ground and gray buildings fell away, dropping gradually out of sight. Soon the whole city lay white and glittering beneath.
     
     
    Zenia’s breath steamed in the frozen air as she took a proud survey of what had recently become her ship, Morrigan’s Revenge , a huge, handsome vessel moored in the harbor near the wintery mortal beach. Despite its vast size, it looked more delicate than it really was. The ship’s masts, rails and bulwarks had been exquisitely crafted by djinni from the darkest parts of the Fae Realm.
    Zenia did not really care to know what materials her ship was made from, but most of the time, the vessel was the color of a bleached skull. The ship’s color could change, though. Sometimes she glowed a deathly blood red from within; at other times, she remained the color of ivory.
    The rigging was the very hue of mortal blood itself, and her three fine sails were black. Slaves worked on the ship, dark elementals of the earth that her mother’s elemental fire power had enslaved—gnomes and dwarves, kobolds dressed as sailors smoking pipes, and vicious, bloodthirsty little Redcaps. She hated the ugly, jagged, yellow teeth of these earth elementals.
    By the Dark Path! Why didn’t these fools use glamourie to make themselves less ugly, the way she herself did?
    But really, it mattered not. They all worked for Zenia now, and that was what was important. She was coming into her promised power at last! Her mother had tired of the tasks involved in being queen. And soon, with a bit more work and a touch of luck, Zenia would be queen of all of the Fae Realm, ruling even the Light parts of her world with a viselike grip.
    And before she became queen, she wanted all the light fae to know that the end of their reign was at hand. She wanted those fae and half fae who had foiled her plans in the past to kneel, small and shivering and