Chapter 24: A Favor, Part 2

Corey smiled at her, well aware that the purpose for his visit was known between both of them.?At long last he said, "I'm calling it in."
Ingrid cleared her throat. "I thought as much. What do you need?"
"Nothing too difficult," Corey replied, turning on his heels and walking away a bit.?"It's something quite simple, actually," he continued, still not facing her, using the tip of his boot to chip away at the ice floor. "In fact, I'm not sure it's even worth a whole favor."
"You get one favor," Ingrid reminded him, shifting in her chair.
He turned back to face her then, still poking at the whole he had created. "Really, a small favor in exchange for convincing the entire council to change a human into a legendary being just so that he could spend eternity with you? Does that seem fair to you?"
"Corey"
"Because it really doesn't seem fair to me"
"Corey," she repeated, more sternly this time. Standing, and placing her scepter in its stand, she crossed the few steps to where he was standing, waving her hand as she did so to repair the damage to her floor.?She stood in front of him now, her face only inches from his. "What do you want?"
Clearing his voice and adjusting his tie, he looked away from her for a moment, caught her eyes, and then glanced away again.?"I need a spell, a location spell."
Ingrid's eyebrows furrowed. "What do you mean?"
Once again, he could not meet her eyes. He stepped away, cleared his voice, and with a heavy sigh explained. "I need to make sure that once my new recruit arrives in the North Pole she won't be able to leave again."
"Won't want to or won't be able to?" Ingrid clarified, crossing her arms in front of her body and grasping one hand in the other.
"Won't be able to," Corey replied, turning to look at her. "It would be much more difficult to make it so that she didn't want to, correct?"
"Yes."
"I just want you to bind her to the North Pole so that she can't leave."
"And what if she wants to go refuses to stay?"
"She won't be able to."
Ingrid sighed now, placing one hand on her hip and scratching her head with the other. "I'm not sure I can do that, Corey," she finally replied just above a whisper.
He looked up at her now, his eyes almost as intense as her own. "Can't or won't?" he asked, narrowing his gaze.
She looked away. "Certainly, you of all people understand my willingness to manipulate, to do whatever it takes in order to achieve one's goals. It just it goes against everything your people are doing here, everything St. Nicholas stands for."
"Oh, please," Corey huffed, crossing his arms across his chest. "Not you, too."
"Well, it's true"
"Is it?" he asked, stepping toward her, his arms spread wide now in disgust. "Is that what we are really about? Making everyone in the world happy? Everyone? Or just the nice children? Or maybe it's just the nice children who believe in Santa Claus? I forget sometimes. It all gets a little muddled together, you see, because, at the end of the day, from my perspective, what we are all really about, in my opinion, is getting the job done.?We can tell ourselves all day long how great it is that children are happy that they have presents, ones most of them probably don't really deserve, or that parents can look lovingly at the smiles on their little cherubs faces as they sing Christmas carols and eat ham while Susie squeezes a new stuffed bear and Johnny spins a new top--it's a crock, Ingrid. You know as well as I do, it's a crock. No one appreciates what we do anymore no one."
Ingrid's eyes narrowed, a mischievous challenge twinkling there, and her cheeks had paled. She stared for a moment before asking, "Then why do you do it?"
Corey looked down at the floor at his own wavy reflection. Even through the distortions of the ice, he could see that he looked tired, aged, morose, agitated. After a thoughtful pause, he shrugged his shoulders and said simply, "It's my job."
"How very sad for you," Ingrid replied, as she looked somberly at the acrimonious expression on her friend's handsome face.?
With a loud guffaw and a smirk, Corey responded quickly with, "I didn't come here for your pity, Ingrid. I came here because you owe me a favor. Now, what do you say? Will you do it?"
She turned her back to him and crossed back over to her throne. He did not follow but waited as she opened the lid to what appeared to be a small table next to where she had been sitting. As she began to pour the contents of various vials into a small flask, he took a step forward, standing just over her shoulder. She was saying something, though he could not make out the words, and as she placed a cork in the top of the tiny flask, she squeezed her eyes closed tightly, her final words causing a spark of blue light to encase the liquid inside the container for just a moment before a ripple of magic emitted from within, sending a wave of light echoing around in all directions.
She turned back toward him sharply, looking him straight in the eyes. Holding the flask in both hands, she asked, "Corey, are you sure want to do this?"
"Yes," he replied assuredly, his hand held out, open, ready to receive the magic potion he had been waiting for.
"Very well, then," she said, handing it over at long last. "But, if you choose to use it, please be aware that it is very strong, and there is very little I will be able to do to reverse its effects. The efforts I have put into making this potion are considerable, and I hope that you will keep that in mind the next time you ask me for a favor."
As he took it in his hand, he responded, "Don't worry, Ingrid. I know what I'm doing."
"I fear that you don't," she cautioned. "Magic is very powerful and it almost always has ramifications, often ones we cannot foresee."
"Believe me, Ingrid, we are doing this woman a favor. You'll see. She'll be happy to leave her old life behind. She just doesn't know it yet."
Ingrid pursed her lips again, shaking her head slowly. "My sweet Corey, what have you become?" she asked under her breath so quietly, he could barely make it out.
But he did, and squinting his eyes at the woman who used to be more than a friend, he said simply, "I could ask the same of you, Ingrid," before disappearing in a cloud of mist and glitter.
"Oh, poor ignorant fool," Ingrid muttered despite the fact that he could no longer hear her. "If you had any idea what you were getting yourself into. Now, you will owe me. And, regardless of whether or not you go through with your insidious plan, I'm afraid you shall be anything but happy when it's time to pay the piper."