Back? # **Chapter Thirteen: Deck The Halls -- Or Else** *The Magispace, 10:00 AM* --- Song(s): **Naughty Naughty Children (Better Start Actin' Nice) - Grace Potter** **When We’re Together – Idina Menzel, Kristen Bell, Josh Gad, Jonathan Groff** --- Fresh from their discovery, Mirina and Spencer rushed to the Magispace to put their plan in motion. Spencer poured some of Willow’s magical ink into a Tupperware container and retrieved a paintbrush from a cabinet. Then, the pair made their way upstairs to Mirina’s car. When they reached the driveway, there was no sign of Agent Foster. Not even the RCA vehicle remained; its tracks were covered by the deluge of snow. Her mission was done, and she had retreated into the agency’s clandestine shadows. No time to wonder about her, though. While Agent Foster’s job was complete, Mirina’s was far from over. The second that Mirina’s car was parked and shut off, the pair bolted towards the Festival grounds where -- true to her word -- Diaz was keeping diligent watch over Fileran. Now that Mirina knew she had an answer, her spark of hope had reignited into a blazing flame. Her cousin was freed from his icy prison with merely a flick of her brush and a dab of ink. He staggered back while his arms flailed wildly, fighting against gravity now that he was no longer frozen to the ground. “Oh, GODS! Agh! Help!” Fortunately, Mirina and Diaz seized his arms just in time while Spencer supported his back. “Phew. Thank you, darlings,” Fileran exhaled once he’d regained his balance. “Now, mind telling me what happened, exactly? One moment, we were locked in battle with that horrid demon, the next…” “Well, after you were turned into an ice statue--” “I was what?!” Mirina and Spencer got him up to speed, peppered with plenty of reassurances that everything would be fine. Fortunately, they managed to calm their melodramatic friend down before he tore every strand of glittery purple fibre out of his wig in stress. “Okay, that’s…wow. I don’t even know where to begin with all that. Actually, I do -- can we please go inside? I. Am. Freezing.” With a laugh, Mirina led her friends towards her house, dismissing Diaz from duty and thanking her as she went. At the same time, Burgundy had awoken from her nap and was heading outside, so they met halfway. The rest had helped, but hope that the night could be saved was still far out of Burgundy’s reach. Even so, she got a spring in her step once she saw that Fileran was alive and well! “FI! Oh, thank gods!” She exclaimed, rushing over to her friends and tackling her boyfriend’s brother in a tight, sisterly hug. Pulling away, she grabbed his shoulders and shook them in a tizzy of frustration, anger, and relief. “What. Were. You. Thinking?! YOU ALMOST DIED! Do you want your brother to kill me?!” Fileran apologized profusely as Mirina laughed. “Yeah, Fi…maybe next time don’t throw a knife at a powerful, pissed-off demon?” He rolled his eyes, grinning sheepishly. “Yes, yes, I get it. I’m well aware it wasn’t my best plan, no need to rub it in.” Spencer put a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’m just as guilty. We both got put…on ice, if you will.” Spencer shot finger guns to accent his lame pun as everyone rolled their eyes, even him. “Now that we’re all okay, we should get down to business,” Mirina began. “The good news is, we know how to stop Eira. His storm is fuelled by the despair it causes, so to stop him, we need to stop it.” “Yes, by all means, let’s stop the weather,” Burgundy groused sarcastically. “Yell at some clouds, too, while we’re at it.” “Yeah, that’s how I felt at first, too,” Spencer conceded, “but Mirina had a really good idea on the way here. If we’re going to fight the despair-storm, we need something on its level. A giant, concentrated burst of hope, if you will. Something like, I don’t know, a massive party with bright lights, great food, and live music?” Fileran gasped. “THE FESTIVAL! My gods, yes! If we can pull off the Festival, even with everything stacked against us, it’ll be…well, a miracle! As in, the Miracle!” “Bingo!” Mirina grinned. “It is the Feast of Hope, after all. Hope’s what defeated him before, and it’s what let me break the ice statue curse. If anything’s gonna stop that demon, it’s harnessing the power of what he hates -- the opposite of his own power!” “Yeah, okay, that’s all well and good,” Burgundy interjected, “but this entire plan hinges on being able to hold the Festival. Have you seen the grounds?! At this rate, even with help, there’s no way we’ll be anywhere near ready in time. And what then?” “Oh, that’s quite simple, my dear,” a familiar, unwelcome voice replied. “In that very likely case…I win.” The four friends found themselves face-to-face with Eira. Fileran started to reach for a knife but lowered his hand once Burgundy and Mirina shot him a look. Fileran scowled. “Don’t you know it’s rude to interrupt, darling?” “Yes, as a matter of fact, I do. However, I’m not sure you do, considering you all insist on interrupting my well-deserved revenge with all this preposterous talk of defeating me.” Eira drawled. “I’m a very busy man, you know, and I wasn’t planning on stopping by to chat, but I couldn’t help but overhear that someone had uncovered my weakness.” He leered at Mirina. “What?! How did you…oh. Oh, no.” In all Mirina’s excitement, she had broken one of the cardinal rules for dealing with demons: don’t refer to them by name. Forgetting to use a nickname or title, even just once, caught their attention and invited them to eavesdrop on every word that followed. Not only had Mirina slipped up, but she realized with dawning horror that she had done it multiple times. He’d heard everything. The demon grinned mockingly. “Oh, yes. I see you’ve realized your mistake. I should honestly applaud you, clever girl -- it took the gods years to figure out how to defeat me. Though you did have hindsight on your side, I suppose. No matter; it won’t amount to anything either way.” He paused to flick an ornament—one of the few that had remained intact—off its perch, watching it fall and shatter against the icy ground with a smirk. “Enjoy that?” Burgundy spat at the same time that Spencer muttered, “Man, that’s just cruel.” “Cruel? Yes. Satisfying? Absolutely.” Eira laughed before resuming his threatening demeanour. “Now listen well, mortals. I’m not an idiot -- it’s clear that nothing I say will dissuade you from fighting me until the bitter end. However, that leaves me with a few options for approaching this. I could kill you right here and now…” In response, Mirina squeaked, Burgundy scowled, Spencer gulped, and Fileran reached for his knives. “Oh, don’t worry your pretty little heads. I only said I could, not that I would. It wouldn’t solve as many problems for me as you might think. Mortals are like wasps -- you squish one, and suddenly the whole hive’s upon you.” “So…what are you going to do?” Mirina enquired tentatively. “I’m here to propose a deal. I’ll give you until the clock strikes seven this evening to get your affairs in order and try to hold your little Festival. Of course, you’ll still have to contend with my storm and its complications, but I’ll make myself scarce in the meantime. I’m sure I can find something else to occupy me.” Fileran’s eyes narrowed. “That’s rather generous of you. What’s the catch?” “The catch is that I need some…collateral, if you will. I intend to keep my word, but I must ensure you keep yours. Whichever one of you seals the deal, should the deadline pass without your task complete, forfeits their soul to me. I’m sure I can find room for a new sculpture in my collection.” “Yeah, don’t get your hopes up. We won’t lose,” Burgundy retorted. “Hm, that’s rich coming from the woman who, up until mere moments ago, had dismissed the idea of hosting the Festival as pure folly,” Eira taunted. “You said it best yourself -- the wasp thing? Well, I feel pretty squished right now.” “It’s not nearly as eloquent when you say it, my dear. But I take it we have a deal?” Eira held out a hand, and Burgundy reached out to seize it before being intercepted by Spencer. “Hang on, hang on. You’ve left something important out: what if we do finish in time?” Eira huffed impatiently. “You figured that out yourselves: it’ll be a fair fight. Now, do we have a deal or not? I haven’t entirely ruled out the cold-blooded murder option, you know.” Burgundy and Spencer reached for Eira’s hand, but Mirina brushed past them and reached it first. She’d gotten them into this mess, so she deserved to take the fall if things went wrong. “You have a deal.” “Wonderful,” Eira sneered, locking his spindly fingers around Mirina’s outstretched palm. A swirl of icy blue light entwined their arms, forging a pact that neither party could break before its terms were met, one way or another. There was no going back now for Mirina nor Eira. “I’ll be seeing you soon, my dear. Good luck -- you’ll need it.” He vanished into a swirl of snow, and the race was on. “Mirina! Are you okay? Why’d you do that?! You should have let me, or Spencer, or Fi…” Burgundy cried, rushing over to her and choking back a sob. “I’m fine, Burgundy,” Mirina whispered shakily. “It’s fine. I made my choice, and I stand by it. After all, I was the one stupid enough to get his attention, and I wasn’t about to let any of you suffer for my mistake.” “Yes, but…gods, Mirina, you still have so much of your life ahead of you…” She didn’t say it out loud, but the implications behind Burgundy’s words were clear. It should have been someone less valuable. It should have been me. Spencer stepped between them. “No. We’re not doing this, okay? Sure, Mirina still has a lot of life to live, but so do you, me, and Fi. He doesn’t deserve to take any one of us, okay?” Mirina took a deep breath before holding her head up proudly with a grin. “No, he doesn’t. And he won’t. I offered up my soul because I knew he wouldn’t get to collect. We’ll beat him, and I’m not taking ‘no’ for an answer.” “Attagirl,” Fileran encouraged, patting her on the back. “That’s the spirit, and I’m with you all the way.” “Me too!” Spencer chimed in. “We’ll fix this -- together.” “I…yeah. Yeah, we will. But we’d better get crackin’,” Burgundy conceded. “Agreed. We don’t have time to waste -- especially not now. But, guys?” Mirina asked sheepishly. “Please don’t tell anyone else about my end of the deal until we get things sorted out? Not sure whose reaction I’m most scared of -- my parents’, Pyx’s, or Mercury’s.” With reluctant nods of agreement, the quartet dispersed to begin their work. With all that was left to do and the limited time, energy and resources they had, putting the Festival back together in time was no easy feat. It would be an uphill battle, one they were already losing. Holding a festival that night would be nothing short of a miracle. Fortunately, ‘miracles’ were what the Feast of Hope did best…