Free Jake & The Gingerbread Wars (A Gryphon Chronicles Christmas Novella) (The Gryphon Chronicles) by E.G. Foley

said anything for a long moment. Finally, Jake growled under his breath, looped the leather reins over their brass holder, and then jumped out of the sleigh to try to clear his head.
    The other three climbed out, too, bickering nonstop.
    Humbug did something strange, however.
    The elf hopped up on the back of the seat and started making the most bizarre noises, a rhythmic staccato of loud, ape-like bellows. He aimed these calls in the direction of the distant tree-line.
    Archie left off quarreling with the girls and spun to face him. “What on earth are you doing, you daft little menace?”
    Hu mbug ignored him and continued with the ruckus.
    “Stop that! ” Jake clenched his jaw in anger and marched back toward the sleigh, crunching across the frozen top layer of the deep snow. “Everybody, shut it for a minute! Humbug, stop making that obnoxious racket! I know you’re up to something—”
    At that moment, a deep, guttural roar came from the dire ction of the snowy forest, cutting off his words.
    With a collective gasp, they all turned toward the bloodcurdling sound.
    They stood motionless for a second, listening.
    It had faded away. Now the silence was profound.
    “What was that?” Dani breathed.
    Jake’s heart pounded. He shook his head. “I don’t know.”
    “Look!” Archie suddenly pointed toward the tree-line.
    “Happy Christmas , you numskulls!” Humbug snickered. His hands still bound in front of him, the elf leaped off the side of the sleigh, broke through the frozen top layer with a crunch, and disappeared under the deep snow.
    He immediately started tunneling away at great speeds, but neither Jake nor any of his companions wasted time going after the elf. They had bigger problems.
    Literally.
    Three towering figures covered in mangy white fur stepped out from behind the nearest cluster of snow-covered pine trees.
    Standing upright, they were about seven feet tall and weighed several hundred pounds.
    “What are they?” Dani whispered in horror. “Please say polar bears.”
    “No,” Isabelle whispered, staring at them , reading them. She shook her head. “They’re not animals, exactly.”
    Archie gulped. “I -I think they’re, uh, y-y-yetis.”
    “What?” Jake asked, turning to him.
    “A bominable snowmen!” Archie cried.
    The middle one threw back its head and let out a roar, its blunt fangs gleaming in the silver moonlight. It pounded its chest like an ape.
    Then the beasts charged.

CHAPTER NINE
    Oh, Christmas Tree!
     
    Yetis?
    After all the giants, ghosts, and gargoyles Jake had dealt with in the past, he did not know how anything could shock him anymore. But he screamed right along with his friends at the terrifying sight of three huge abominable snowmen racing toward them.
    “Quick! Get back in the sleigh!” He shoved the girls ahead of him toward the vehicle.
    “What about Humbug?” Dani exclaimed.
    “Never mind him! Red, get us out of here!” he hollered.
    Their quarrels from the Spiteful Spice forgotten, t hey ran as best they could through the deep snow, sinking with every step, pulling each other along. In the next moment, they were all scrambling into the sleigh.
    Red let out a warning roar, as if to say, Hurry up! They’re coming!
    The angry yetis were bearing down on them, their long, powerful arms swinging, plumes of snow kicking up behind them as they bounded and loped along.
    “Ew, they smell,” Dani muttered, covering her nose.
    But the creatures’ sharp stink was the least of their worries.
    Jake was more concerned about getting his arms ripped off. His hands shook a little as he freed the reins from the ir brass holder. “Take us up, Red, now!”
    “We’re not going to make it!” Archie shouted.
    Jake feared he was right. Red had to get a running start to pull the sleigh up into the sky; with its sled-like runners instead of wheels, the vehicle wasn’t made for sharp turns. That meant that Red had to run straight for several yards—much too close to the