Page 14 of Santa’s Lawyer

Louis followed her gaze and quickly swatted at the greenery materializing over him, which vanished into green dust.

“Oh, dear. That’s, uh—” He hastily rose from his chair. “Books!” he shouted. “Let’s go look at your books.” Louis dashed out of the dining nook and back toward the fireplace.

She followed him at a respectful distance. Turning the corner, she found him standing tall, adjusting his suit jacket, straightening a stack of already-orderly books on a shelf near the fireplace.

“There,” he said to the shelf. “Good—um—good books. Yes.” He patted the volumes, took a deep breath, and turned back to Avery.

“Okay, Ms. Hoarfrost, let’s begin,” he said.

She stood on the other side of the desk, hands clasped in front of her.

“How do I begin?” she asked earnestly.

“I’ll supply an overview,” Louis suggested. “And you can take notes.”

She looked around. “Do we have a notebook? A whiteboard?”

He merely inclined his head toward her breast pocket.

“Oh, right, magic,” she said, retrieving the enchanted pen.

He clasped his hands behind his back and began walking in a slow circle around the fireplace. “The good news is, I believe it’s safe to say you’ve already spent much of your life studying for this exam.”

“Really?” she asked, confidence rising.

“Yes, but let me back up. The North Pole doesn’t operate the way the American legal system does,” Louis explained. “Or any legal system, for that matter. Given that there’s magic, there are many things we don't have to contend with that would drive mortals— more...to...file lawsuits. No one is building a fence that mistakenly goes over someone’s property line, because everyone shares the land. No one’s getting in a car accident because no one’s using cars. Follow?”

“No cars? How do you travel?”

“We fly, Ms. Hoarfrost.”

Avery’s eyes were big as saucers.

“Oh!” he said, apparently registering her expression. “I mean, the reindeer can fly, of course, and Santa’s sleigh with it. But neither you nor I can fly on our own. Please don't try to jump from any great heights.”

“Right...” she said, now uncertain.

“To get around, we usually take dogsleds or the underground train, but these things don’t crash into each other, and nobody gets hurt. The point is,” Louis lectured in a practiced way, “we don’t need to concern ourselves with a million cases about little fights between people. Our system is more about making sure everything operates in line with the spirit of Christmas. Things haven’t always worked exactly as they do now. There have been changes in technology, changes in leadership—”

“Leadership?” she asked.

He quickly turned to face her. “Certainly. While the spirit of Christmas is infinite, it has inhabited various Santa Clauses over the centuries. And with those transitions come challenges, as you’d see with turnover in any organization. Especially apprehension among the elves. They’re very sensitive. And they take their work very seriously.”

Now, it seemed to Avery, they were getting down to business. She choked up on her pen and started making a few notes in the air beside her:

Stakeholders:

Spirit of Christmas (∞)

Santa Claus

Elves (workforce)

Louis observed her notes, made an approving “hmm” sound, and continued his slow walk around the fireplace.

“It’s important to the elves—to all of us, to Christmas—that the North Pole’s executive leadership understand the basic principles of Christmas, believe in them, and practice them. It should be second nature. First nature, really,” he said.

“And what are those basic principles?” she asked, holding her pen aloft.