Reaching the ground they stepped off the platform, and with every step they took towards the tree, more lights came on to brighten the way.
It was huge, taller even than the Christmas tree in the foyer and the branches spread wide. It had no leaves but there were large woven baskets hanging from almost every bough.
They kept walking slowly, turning to take in the magnitude of the place which must sit under a large portion of Paris. Up in the ceiling, although it was shuttered, there appeared to be an observation window.
Could this be where the butterflies came from?
"What do you suppose is in the baskets? Do you think he's keeping the elves in there?" Marinette stared straight up, her eyes huge. If that was the case, there were more missing than she had realised.
"Only one way to find out." He pulled out his staff, extending it to reach the first branch. Marinette did the same, wrapping her yo-yo around the tree and pulling herself up to land next to one of the baskets.
"They're sealed shut. We're going to have to cut them down," he called across to her.
"Then we'll have to work together. If I cut them down, you catch them, alright?"
Adrien nodded, taking a swan dive before flipping and landing on his feet.
"Show off," she grumbled but smiled despite herself.
"Ready when you are, Bugaboo."
"Don't call me Bugaboo," she said, cutting the rope that held the basket to the branch. It sailed down and he grabbed it, staggering under the weight but still setting it down gently.
They worked as fast as they could, cutting down basket after basket until there were only a handful left.
The sound of them working was all they could hear. The cut of the rope, the whistle as the basket fell, Adrien's grunt as he caught them and the soft thump as he put them on the ground. It was almost peaceful, the repetition soothing. Just having a goal was keeping them focussed so that at first they didn't notice that they weren't alone any more.
The quiet flutter of wings, so soft, gradually got louder. Adrien was looking up at Marinette, waiting for the next basket to drop but she stopped, her hands halfway to the rope.
"Adrien? What's that on you face?"
He brushed a hand over his cheek and a white butterfly flew away.
They were suddenly on high alert.
"He's here."
Marinette swung down landing deftly on her feet. She smirked at Adrien but he wasn't looking at her. His senses were on high alert, his cat ears twitching on the top of his head and his eyes darting around the cavern. Every muscle was coiled like a spring and his face was tight with tension.
Out of nowhere they heard a voice. It was hard to pinpoint where it came from as it bounced from wall to wall.
"I wondered when you might come." The voice was cold, indifferent. "I didn't expect the champions of the Great and Wonderful Santa Claus to be a couple of children. It's quite pathetic."
Marinette stepped forwards, her eyes scanning the room for any sign of movement.
"Not that it's any of your business but we're not children. Why don't you come out and get a proper look?"
She touched her fingers to the edge of her mask. Not that it mattered if he knew her identity, but it would probably be better if Adrien stayed unrecognised.
Laughter filled the space, building as it echoed until it was all she could hear. The chill it sent down her spine rivalled that of any blizzard she had experienced at the Pole.
"So confident, are we, that you have any chance of saving your precious Christmas? Tomorrow is Christmas eve. How is production coming along with so many of the elves missing? All those children going without. How will Santa decide who the good children are that deserve to get a gift? It's about time we go back to the old ways. Naughty children should get what they deserve and finally this year I have brought back the traditions. Christmas shall be as it is supposed to be."
Marinette stepped forward again, pivoting, her eyes still searching.
Adrien had begun to crouch down, lowering his centre of gravity and getting into a defensive stance. He had his staff in hand and extended it now in readiness.
"You underestimate the North Pole if you think anything you've done up until this point has been enough to stop every child getting a gift from Santa. And we'll make sure you don't do anything else either." Adrien gave half a glance to Marinette then looked back out into the open space before him. "We're taking these elves home today, whether you like it or not. You might be a miserable, lonely old man but we won't let you get away with this."
Out of the shadows a kaleidoscope of butterflies swarmed, filling the air around them. Their eyes darted about and they swatted the insects away but they weren't attacking. It did make it more difficult to see.
Then the observation window above them opened with a mechanical whirr. The moon, shining brightly on this clear night, acted like a spotlight, illuminating the figure who had stepped out.
There he stood, tall and imposing. Horns curled from the top of his head, back and around, their points sharp looking. He was covered in fur, coarse and silver and a tail whipped behind him. He had cloven hoofs like a goat and his pupils were slitted to match. When he opened his mouth he revealed sharp teeth and a long tongue. In one hand he held a switch of birch twigs.
They already knew the stories, and Marinette kept a careful eye on the twigs. It would hurt to get hit by them.
Smiling wickedly he stepped forward, his arms wide.
"Krampus," Marinette spat, taking up a defensive stance herself.
"And what shall I call you? Not that it matters, I suppose. I'll dispose of you both soon enough. But then, I can put you both to the top of my Naughty List."
Adrien growled.
"Not the talkative type? I prefer that anyway. Perhaps if you entertain me well enough I will add you both to my army. As you can see, I have quite a collection." He gestured behind them at the baskets.
"Army, what do you-"
He smirked, holding out his hands, palms up. Butterflies swarmed and landed on him, each one turning from white to black and purple in front of their eyes.
"Come my little akumas, evilise them."
They took off at once, swarming towards the baskets and disappearing inside. One by one they burst open and people stepped out, lips curled in a snarl as they turned to face Ladybug and Chat Noir.
They were just as Sabine had described, wearing garish costumes and lacking any humanity, magical energy pulsing from all of them and Marinette felt sick.
"Attack!"
A/N A collective of butterflies is called a kaleidoscope which is lovely. Not very fitting for these butterflies but still