him for a moment or two. 

Just then, Nikki walked into the parlor, and stopped short just outside the hall.  "Is he dead?"

The younger Steele turned towards Nikki, not expecting him.  "Yes."

Nikki approached slowly and, after a careful and sympathetic glance down towards Charger, he walked over to the chair by the fireplace and, with a whimper, nudged the master's hand.  The master pulled his hand back, startled out of his daze, and rose to go to Charger's side. 

The younger Steele simply turned and walked out into the hallway and out of sight.

Steele himself stood, transfixed, and at a total loss for words or actions.  The spirit, standing beside him, turned to him and noted "One shadow more."

Steele shook his head in desperation.  "No!" he insisted.  "No more.  I can't take anymore of this!"  But the scene shifted around them in spite of Steele's protest.  The spirit would not be deterred.  Now they found themselves in the back yard of the master's house, the team gathered around a fresh grave, and the master kneeling down to place a marker.  Each of the team members seemed concerned for the master, who was deeply saddened by the loss.  The younger Steele, on the other hand, simply yawned and, after the master stood back up to give one last look at the grave, and then turn and walk off, so did the younger Steele.  On the younger Steele's face was a confident, selfish smile.  He stood tall and walked proudly, knowing that he now was solely in charge of the team.  It was, at last, his.

"You and Charger worked side-by-side for nine years", the spirit observed.  "He was the only friend you ever had.  But what did you feel when you stood at his deathbed, or when your master finally laid him to rest?  When you took his position, his power and his status on the team?  Did you feel even the slightest pity for him?  Look at your face, Steele--the face of a grasping, clawing, covetous wretch..."

Steele suddenly felt a wave of exhaustion come over him, and a near overpowering sleepiness.  He also was now aware of being back in his own bed, in the darkened hallway.  But before he could stand to investigate, he found himself falling into a deep sleep.
 

CHAPTER 3: THE SECOND SPIRIT

Steele awoke, arousing himself unceremoniously from his slumber with a rather prodigious snore...just as the bell of the grandfather clock struck twelve.  He sat up to collect his thoughts, thinking at first that his encounters with the first spirit, and with Charger's ghost, were perhaps nothing more than a bad dream.  But he was then possessed of a sudden chill, as an unexpected thought troubled him...as to from where and how the next spirit might appear to him, and if indeed he were still dreaming, or was wide awake.

He waited, apprehensively...his eyes fixed upon the darkened hall.  But no spirit came to him.  Five minutes.  Ten.  Then the quarter of the hour.  Still nothing.  Steele began to wonder whether or not the whole incident had indeed been nothing more than a bad dream. 

And so he sat, unable to resume his slumber for some time...seized, as he was, by a terrible sense of dread as to how much longer he would have to wait for the rising of the sun through the window behind him.  But that was some hours off yet.

A quarter til.  And still, utter silence and darkness...again, but for the shaft of moonlight again beaming in through the aforementioned window.  But at last, as the hour struck one, from the open space leading down to the first floor, through the banister and up the stairs, appeared a golden light, which seemed somehow to even find its way down the hall towards him, and beckon him from his bed. 

Steele was very much afraid, you understand.  And yet the light was strangely inviting...it held a supernatural warmth and solace that started to wash over Steele and draw him from his bed.  He no longer felt fearful, though he was confused now as to the new feelings coming over him, and was hesitant to go on.  But he walked over to the banister, and looked down into the first floor hall.  There, the light seemed to originate from the drawing room.  It was then that Steele heard a deep, rich throaty laughter...which also eminated from the parlor.  It startled him, and he stepped back in surprise, bumping into the wall behind him. 

Steele began to turn to go back to his bed, but the voice beckoned to him.  Steele froze and turned to listen.  "Come here.  Come here, Steele!  I await you!"

Without even fully realizing it, Steele caught himself nodding in assent, and turning towards the stairs at the voice's command.  He tried to resist, but found it remarkably difficult.  Down he went, until he was standing around the corner of the large entryway to the drawing room...hesitant to peer around the corner.

"Come in, don't be afraid!" the voice demanded.  Steele rounded the corner to a scene beyond his wildest imaginings.  At first, he had to rub his eyes with his paws, as the golden light had a brilliance which filled the drawing room, but then began to gradually dissipate.

As his eyes focused, Steele saw that a great fire was burning and crackling in the fireplace, and all around the room were stocked foodstuffs and drink of all kinds.  Stacks of salmon and trout, great shimmering glass jars filled to their brims with sweet golden honey, baskets full of lucious berries of crimson and indigo, cornucopias overflowing with bright bulbous apples, pears and great cascades of nuts of innumerable kinds, as well as fat orange pumpkins and big wooden casks of cider.  A feast fit for a king!  Around the mantle of the hearth, and indeed the entire room, were strung great strands of evergreen garland and sprays, mixed here and there with holly and mistletoe.

And there, sitting upon a great mound of all these tempting victuals, was the biggest brown bear that Steele had ever thought possible.  A great, hulking beast.  But this bear was behaving quite unlike any which Steele had ever seen or heard of.  He seemed a right jolly fellow...as his gaze met Steele's it seemed jovial and even kindly.  He had a broad smile coarsing the circumference of his muzzle, and his great belly shook as he laughed as deeply as he had when he was first heard. 

This was a bit too much for Steele, who, with a whimper and a shake of his head, turned to retreat.  The spirit, however, urged him otherwise.  "Don't go away, Steele.  Come in!"  The spirit laughed again.

"Come in and know me better", the spirit urged.  "I am the spirit of the present.  Look upon me!  You've not seen the like of me before, have you?"

Steele, resigning himself to the inevitability of his current situation, muttered "Never.  And I really wish I could have avoided it altogether..."  He shook his head again, and momentarily squinted his eyes shut in tired frustration. 

The spirit's face turned serious then.  "So!  Is your heart still unmoved by all that to which you have thus far been witness?"

Steele clenched his teeth, and tempered his response, not wishing to anger a supernatural thing which he feared might very well do him great harm.  Perturbed by the spirit's admonishment of him, he blurted out "I am too far gone!  It's too late for me!  Go and redeem some younger, more promising creature, and leave me to my fate!"

The spirit observed him sternly, but without malice.  "Mortal, we spirits do not engage in such tasks ill-advisedly, or without good cause.  And there are few causes more urgent than this.  You have chosen to renounce all manner of good will and kindness in your life.  And so you will come with me and seek such things in the hearts of dogs and men who have not!"

Steele observed now that the spirit's face once again turned pleasant and kindly.  It reached out its great arm towards him.  "Come, touch my paw".  Steele stepped forward and did as the spirit bade him to.  Instantly, the drawing room faded from view, and for a moment they seemed to float in space and time with no apparent fixed point of reference.  The spirit said to Steele "No doubt you will recall at least some of what you are about to see, though it pains me to think of any pride you may draw from the recollections.

In no time they found themselves in the workshop of Nome's carpenter, Mr. Johansson.  It was daytime, and before them, at the worktable, the carpenter was putting the final finishing touches on a very small birchwood sled.  Nearby, watching intently, were three other humans and one husky.  Steele recognized them immediately...the humans were a small girl named Rosy (who was giddy and fidgeting while holding her hands over her eyes) and her parents.  The husky was their dog, Jenna...whom Steele had had his eyes on over the years.  He wanted her to be his girl, and only his.  And seeing her now, so obviously happy and content, only strengthened his covetous feelings towards her.

Mr. Johansson picked up the sled from his worktable, and turned towards the family.  Rosy's father began chuckling.  "Okay, you can open your eyes now."

Rosy drew her hands away from her eyes and opened them as Mr. Johansson laid the sled on the floor a few feet in front of her.  "Oh!" she exclaimed, then breaking into a fit of giggling and