“What can you tell me about Jack Frost?” Maguire asked as we settled into the plush chairs in the poetry corner. He had a wall of Robert Frost books around him, along with some collections focusing on Jack Frost and other winter-adjacent entities. Meanwhile, I had a large tome of what looked to be Chinese proverbs but was really a collection of dirty limericks, among other entertaining things.
Every safehouse had one and there were usually a few hilarious stories stuck in the back, left there by others who had passed through for one reason or another. It was the easiest way to get a feel for the people who worked in this space, and part of me hoped that it may have some answers about what happened.
“I can tell you many things. Not sure which would actually be helpful in this instance and I’m pretty sure you know a fair amount yourself.”
“I did hear a few stories in the Pole, but I’m not sure how many of them were actually true and I haven’t met him.”
“I have only met him a few times myself. He’s one of the older Jacks and tends to keep to himself, but he is friendly, if a bit old fashioned. He embodies many of the things that one associates with winter, with a dash of his special brand of mischief. He has not always been so kind as he is now. Centuries ago he was seen as cruel and twisted as the harsh winters that took the lives of many. He didn’t cause that, though, but it did affect him. Now that people have better methods of handling the cold and snow and the winter winds, he has softened significantly.”
“And where might one find him?” Maguire asked, trying to play it casual.
“He has been known in recent years to frequent places that are filled with cold and whimsy and certain amounts of sneakery,” I replied. His eyebrow shot up as he looked at me, obviously not expecting me to give any response to that. “Unfortunately he does tend to be farther east this time of year, so you will need to find his representation. You will figure it out, Maguire. Just keep reading and follow your gut.”
We spent the rest of the afternoon in the library as Maguire worked his way through a few sections, following a lead he had not yet shared with me. Whatever he had discovered he followed with great intention and I watched his progress with curiosity. He proved once again to not only be clever, but a hard worker. After a quick dinner of holiday leftovers, which I forced him to take a break for, he disappeared into one of the workshops and began collecting some equipment.
“What are you working on there?” I asked, stepping closer as he started with the potions.
“It's an old trick I learned about in the Pole, something to find the coldest heart,” he explained. “The brewers developed it to help find anyone who got lost out in the snow beyond the bounds of the Pole proper. I figured it could possibly be adapted to find Frost, or at least get a clearer heading whenever I get close to his location.”
“I like the way you think. Talk me through it and I’ll make some suggestions. Experiments like this are best done with some adult supervision, especially when you don’t know your way around a workshop.”
“You sure that doesn’t break any rules?”
“I’d rather have to find another way to get you inducted than have you blow up my workshop, or yourself. Now, get to talking.”
Maguire chuckled and started explaining what he could remember of the brew and its use. We decided to make it the following morning to allow both of us more time to research. By the time we had all of the ingredients collected, I had enough of an idea of how it worked to be helpful for the rest of the experimentation process. We went back and forth on different thoughts and theories and iterations until Maguire finally figured it out and settled on a particular concoction that would change temperature in response to a person or place’s magical affiliation.
“This way, I will be searching based on magical affinity instead of physical temperature, since I don’t know if that would actually be helpful in finding Jack Frost, especially considering Clever Jack exists in a mural,” Maguire explained.
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“I have to say, that is quite brilliant. I’ve been taking notes, because I can see this having quite a few uses,” I said. He beamed with pride briefly before returning his attention to the potion.
“That should do it.”
I leaned forward to get a closer look, pulling out a pocket magnifier to better examine the mixture. “It looks perfect. I can bottle it while you tell me where you are thinking of starting this investigation.”
Maguire complied, pulling out his phone to show me the notes he had taken the night before while looking for possible locations. While such technology wasn’t overly common in the Pole, they had their own versions and, as with many other things, Maguire caught on quickly. He compiled a list of several possible starting points, all of which had connections to winter or other elements of the lore surrounding Jack Frost and the poem itself.
As he talked I slowly poured the potion into a particularly ugly thermos, taking care not to spill any onto the table. Past experience told me it was best to use unpleasant looking containers to prevent the contents from ending up in the wrong hands. It also happened to be the first one I grabbed off the shelf.
“And, perfect,” I said, setting the now empty beaker back onto the table. “I don’t know about you, but I could go for some ice cream. It’s a bit of a drive, but I think we should start there and treat ourselves before we start our potentially very long day.”
“Okay,” he said cautiously. “If you say so, I trust your judgment.”
“Yes. Ice cream is a wonderful idea. Here, take the thermos and lead the way.”
Maguire took the thermos, eyeing me suspiciously the whole time, like he half expected the whole thing to be a prank. Like I would ever do something so obvious, especially when we were working on a timetable.
It was a lovely day for a walk and I let Maguire take the lead. Potion in hand, he wandered for a bit before heading straight toward the ice cream shop.
“I realized I should have asked this earlier, but am I looking for another mural or a person?” Maguire asked. He held the door open for me to enter first, then followed after me.
“I don’t know. What do you think?”
His gaze followed mine and his eyes widened as he saw the person behind the counter bore a nametag that just said J. Frost. The things that made him different were subtle, but easy to find if you knew what to look for. Chief among them was the fact that the refrigeration unit for the ice cream was not plugged in, yet everything remained perfectly cold.
“I see you have found a new friend, Claudia,” Frost said with a twinkle in his eye.
“That I have. It’s good to see you out and about. I thought you would be farther west this time of year.”
“Oh, I was for a while but I decided to change things up a bit. So, who is this?”
I elbowed Maguire in the ribs when he didn’t respond.
“Oh, yes, sorry. I was just surprised,” he stammered.
“So I gathered. Now, what can I call you?”
“Maguire.”
“Maguire. It is a pleasure to meet you. The name is Jack, and I believe you have spent a fair amount of time with an old friend of mine. Jolly old fellow, likes to go by the name Chris.”
“Yes, yes I have.”
“Good to see that our dear Claudia was able to find some help. I assume you are here to gain my favor?” Frost glanced pointedly at me. I nodded. “And he found his way here on his own?”
“I helped with some potion crafting but the method was entirely his idea.”
“Most excellent. You may be seated, Claudia. I will have your order out in a moment, once I have had time to converse with our friend Maguire.”
I gave Maguire an encouraging nod and went to sit by one of the windows. I got my ice cream a few minutes later, after Maguire had disappeared into the back with Frost. He came back sooner than I expected.
“I got the favor and a clue. And I think we are going to need to go back to the library for a while.” He showed me the paper with its foreign script and I nodded.
“Yeah, I had a feeling there would be something to translate soon. Good news is we have an entire section for that. First things first, though. You have got to try the ice cream here. It is quite magical,” I said pointedly, taking another bite of my sundae. He took a bite of his, eyes widening in surprise at the richness of the flavor, complete with an aftertaste of magic.
“This seems quite generous, and delicious.”
“There are some perks to being one of the only Society members still at large, though many interested parties are quite keen on fixing that. I imagine we will be gaining more than just the Jack’s favor before this month is done.”