The Snowmaiden, A Bride for Krampus - Jeanette Lynn Page 0,21

blinking. Tears started to well in my eyes and gently trail down my cheeks. They burned hotly, pricking my iced over skin.

“No need for those.” Muttering lower, he said with an annoyed huff, “We’re long past that now. What’s done is to be.”

Bels had me shuffling along beside him, his hand at my back leading me down a winding passage way.

Grumbling, grunting noises issued from somewhere deeper in the catacombs looking maze carved out of this rock. The deeper we went, the harder to see it grew. The urge to flee was strong but the body was not willing.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Bels said between rough clearings of his throat. “I’m not a monster,” he insisted, as something straight out of a nightmare came into view. “There’s nothing to be done of it. Shnikel is the only real friend I’ve ever had, and I’m not about to let him just slip off into oblivion, a mindless creature, to become- To be-” Bels throat worked and he was starting to look a little choked up himself. Shaking his head, sniffling a little, he tried to shrug it all off. “Nevermind,” he said on a laugh of a huff. “You’re here now.” Smiling up at me with a soft look, he took my hand in his and gave it a pat.

The nightmare snorted and snapped its teeth, then slammed a hooved foot into the ground. It was just up ahead.

Cells. The passage we took spilled out into a space as tall as it was wide. Cells lined the walls, carved right into the mountain. The cell with an actual occupant, a snarling beast stamping his hooves at the intruders nearing his pen. Thin lips pulled back over long teeth. The noise that erupted from him had my teeth on edge. And still yet, docilely I trotted alongside Bels.

“I’ve brought someone, Shnik, that I’d like you to meet,” the Elf called out casually, like we were about to sit down and have a leisurely brunch.

Shnik’s lips pulled up higher at Bels’ voice, an ugly noise rattling his wide chest. His chest was so wide it contrasted greatly, looking as if it popped out, in comparison to the sunken in appearance of his stomach. He was furred in a way that showed his Elkfen heritage, dark greys, lights, and browns of every shade mixing in with swaths of pure, thick, long white fur that was scraggly to the rest of its fluffy tufts. The white fur was thickest at his hips, thighs, over his shoulders, and down a bony spine that looked like it was about to burst from the stretched skin at his back. His ribs were in no better shape, skin stretched over them, visible where the fluff of fur had visibly thinned.

I knew what that was. Mother used to tell Beau and me tales of such things, the stories her mother and grandmother told her and so on.

“Krampus,” I garbled out.

“Oh goody, you know what he’s turning into.” Bels let go of me to clap his hands together. I’d almost say he was enjoying himself. Maybe he was. Nasty little gremlin bastards, Elves were turning out to be. This one was, at least.

We were right in front of the cage now. If Shnikel Krampus sniffing loudly over there, his nose turned up, a garbled rumble fighting with the deep, chest lifting deep breaths things, reached out, he might be able to touch us. His hooves shifted, drawing my attention to them as they scraped the ground. The bits of fruit chunks at his feet squished beneath his odd feet.

Again, my gaze unerringly drew up, traveling up his towering frame to once more find his face. Where the Krampus I knew of from folk tales were depicted with ram looking horns, this one’s were still very Elkfen looking. The points’ main beams were curving funnily, unnaturally, the base of his horns thicker, the burrs sporting sharp looking spikes Elkfen did not have. Rings where the base had thickened were starting to show, the points along the very ends curlicued. Some of those curled ends were cracked and crumbling, one snapped off but still dangling there, flopping this way and that with every jerk of his head.

Eyes as black as pitch met mine, held, and then his eyelids slowly blinked. Grunting, Krampus Shnikel began to weave on his feet. With another grunt, he stumbled backward. The thick tail sprouting out of the top of his furry arse flicked wildly behind him. He