The Guardians: Nicholas St. North and the Battle of the Nightmare King; E. Aster Bunnymund and the Warrior Eggs at the Earth's Core!; Toothiana, Queen of the Tooth Fairy Armies

by William Joyce

  Sascha, like the other children of Santoff Claussen, had survived that terrifying night when Pitch’s Fearlings had nearly captured them in the enchanted forest, thanks to a glimmering boy with a moonlit staff who drove back the inky marauders.

  Now she climbed out onto a branch and hung by her knees, still holding the ear trumpet. The world looks different upside down, but it sounds the same, she thought.

  Sascha listened once more, then lowered the sound amplifier. The insects had said all was well. Even so, what if Pitch and his Fearlings come back again? She frowned, but before that thought could darken her mood, Petter called out for a new contest. “Race you to the clearing!” he shouted, leaping for the nearest branch.

  Scrambling down the tree, Sascha’s shoes and gloves now gave her the advantage. She landed proudly in front of Tall William and his brother William the Almost Youngest. Her own brother was still half a tree behind.

  She was about to brag about her victory when she spotted the stone elves hunkered amidst the vines and trees. There were at least ten statues in total, and they made for an eerie and unsettling sight, some with arms raised, swords at the ready; others frozen in midscream.

  They were Nicholas St. North’s band of outlaws, turned to stone by the Spirit of the Forest. The Spirit had spared North for he alone was true of heart. Rejecting her offer of riches, he had gone to the village’s rescue when Pitch attacked again. He then decided to stay in Santoff Claussen, and became their wizard Ombric Shalazar’s apprentice.

  The Spirit of the Forest was just one of the magical barriers their wizard had devised to protect the village when he first created it. He’d also conjured up a hundred-foot-tall hedge, the great black bear the size of a house, and the majestic oaks that blocked the advance of anyone who tried to enter Santoff Claussen with ill intent. But none of these had been able to protect the children from the shadows and Fearlings at Pitch’s command.

  Petter and his friend Fog began crossing stick swords with each other, acting out the battle that took place when Nicholas St. North had come face-to-face with Pitch.

  Everything they knew and loved had seemed lost until North had galloped up to the rescue on Petrov. Though badly wounded, North had been able to drive Pitch away, but the children all worried that the Nightmare King would return. At this very moment Ombric, North, and their friend Katherine were far from Santoff Claussen, searching for the weapon—some sort of relic!—that would conquer Pitch forever.

  The youngest William was near tears. “I’m afraid. Pitch told us he would come back.”

  “North, Ombric, and Katherine will find a way to stop him,” Petter told him reassuringly.

  William the Absolute Youngest wasn’t entirely convinced. “But Pitch’s magic is strong. What if it’s stronger than Ombric’s?”

  “What does Ombric always say?” Petter asked.

  The youngest William thought for a moment, then his eyes grew bright. “Magic’s real power is in believing,” he proclaimed, clearly pleased to remember Ombric’s very first lesson.

  And he began to chant. “I believe! I believe! I believe!”

  Sascha joined in. “I believe! I believe! I believe Katherine and North and Ombric will come home!”

  CHAPTER TWO

  In Which Old Friends Are Reunited

  WHILE WILLIAM THE ABSOLUTE Youngest and Sascha chanted, the light around the children began to glisten and shine. The Spirit of the Forest was coming! In a whirl of shimmering veils laced with tiny gemstones, she appeared before them.

  “Time for lessons,” she whispered, her soothing voice cheering the children as always. And her luminous, otherworldly beauty banished all worries. “Today you have a special surprise.”

  Lessons in Santoff Claussen were always a surprise. On any given day the children might learn how to build a bridge to the clouds or how to make rain come from a river rock. So if the Spirit of the Forest said the surprise was special, it must be amazing indeed.

  The children broke into a run toward the village, with Petrov and the bear galloping beside them. The Spirit of the Forest glided above them, enveloping the children with trails of light that tickled and swirled around them. They paused only to stomp on the rift in the ground where Pitch had disappeared when he’d retreated. William the Absolute Youngest stomped the hardest of all.

  Lessons took place inside Ombric’s home in Big Root, the oldest tree in the village and the center of its magic. The huge branches swayed and waved as the children dashed up its massive roots and into its hollow. Ever since Ombric had set off on his mission with North and Katherine, the children’s parents had been helping them with their lessons. But on this day, there was a surprise indeed. A towering stack of packages—all identical—cluttered Ombric’s library. There were so many that the bees, spiders, and ants who kept Ombric’s workroom tidy couldn’t keep up with them.

  In charge of the library was Mr. Qwerty, a glowworm who loved books above all other things. He could generally be found meandering up the spine of one book or down another, cleaning the covers or repairing torn pages. Roughly six inches long, he was a bright, springlike shade of green; had quite a number of legs; and wore small, round glasses perched on his nose. He was also the ultimate authority when Ombric was away.

  He had wriggled down from the book stacks to oversee the package deliveries.

  Mr. Qwerty—gentleman, worm, and scholar

  “Careful, now,” he told them in a surprisingly humanlike voice. He was the only insect in the known world who spoke human languages.

  Of course the children examined the presents with keen interest. “They look like North’s work,” said Fog.

  The comment caused a wave of excited chatter. Then they noticed a small army of ants hauling a package larger than the others through Big Root’s entrance.

  “I wonder who that one is for,” said William the Absolute Youngest, a hint of hopefulness in his voice.

  “Are there any labels?” Sascha asked.

  Just then the giant globe in the center of the room—the one that Ombric slept in—swung open. The inside was hollow except for a single wooden rod near the bottom, which Ombric stood on to sleep. The children always wondered how he managed to not fall off, but apparently for wizards, this was normal. As always, the dozen or so owls sat on their perches around the globe. They had the singular ability to communicate with the wizard with their minds.

  Ombric’s bed and owlophone

  The owls spent a good portion of their day preening, but now they began to hoot, slowly and deeply. At the center of the globe, a flat, circular glass plate appeared and started to glow. An illuminated image shimmered across it, and a familiar face came into focus. The children cried out happily. Ombric! It was Ombric! It had been weeks and weeks since he’d left, and questions tumbled out in shouts. “Where are you?” and “How is Katherine?” and especially, “Whose presents are these?”

  The old wizard held up his hands. “First things first,” he said with a laugh. “Tell me, has anyone had a nightmare?”

  The children looked from one to the other, shaking their heads.

  “No,” said Fog.

  “Old William had his birthday,” Petter added.

  “So did William the Absolute Youngest,” Sascha reported.

  “We’re still the youngest and the oldest in the village,” the youngest William piped up. “Even when I have a birthday, I’m still the littlest,” he concluded with a frown.

  “Then everything is as it was and as it should be,” Ombric said with a satisfied nod. “I knew everything would be in order in the capable hands of Mr. Qwerty.”

  Upon hearing Ombric mention his name, Mr. Qwerty momentarily stopped resewing the binding of Interesting Unexplainables of Atlantis, Volume 8, and gave them all a little wave.

  “Tall William,” Ombric said, nodding at the boy. “I do believe you’ve gotten seven-eighths of an inch taller.”

  Tall William sat up a little straighter, a pleased smile on his face.
/>
  “Sascha, I hear you’ve figured out how to climb trees faster than a squirrel.”

  Sascha raised her feet and hands so that Ombric could see her invention.

  “Ingenious,” he said, stroking his beard. For every child, he had a cheering observation or a bit of praise or encouragement. Finally, he reached William the Absolute Youngest, who only wanted to know about the mysterious boxes.

  Ombric could tell it was taking every ounce of the boy’s self-control to not snatch one up. “To answer your question, young William, these boxes are presents from North. There is one for each of you. Each is exactly the same . . . until you pick it up,” he said mysteriously.

  “Since I’m the smallest, may I have the largest box?” asked the youngest William in his sweetest voice.

  “That gift is special,” said Ombric. “It’s for all of you and should be opened last.”

  So each child chose one of the other boxes. Petter hefted one in his hand. It was surprisingly light.

  Ombric smiled. “Now, think of a thing you would like, and it will be yours.”

  Petter closed his eyes and thought his very hardest. When he opened them, instead of a box in his hands, there was a pair of special shoes that would allow him to glide over water.

  William the Absolute Youngest found a small mechanical soldier that could move about on its own. It carried two swords, which it waved wildly. “It’s just as I daydreamed,” the youngest William cried. “Tell North thanks!”

  There were even presents for Petrov (a carrot that would last a week) and the bear (an elegant ring for the paw that had been hurt in the battle with Pitch).

  When all the wishes had been granted, the children turned to the larger box.

  “That one is from Katherine,” Ombric told them.

  The ants carried the oversized package to Ombric’s cluttered desk. As they set it down, the package began to unfold on its own, and out came a book.

  “Katherine has written a story about our adventures since we left you. She misses you all and wishes she could tell you in person, but until then, her book will tell you the story. Now, before we start, we must begin with the first spell I ever taught you. Do you remember?” Ombric asked.

  The children glanced at one another, grinning. Did they remember? Why, Sascha and the youngest William had just said that spell in the forest. Pleased to be a step ahead of their teacher for once, they began to murmur.

  And as the words “I believe, I believe, I believe” filled the air, the green leather cover of Katherine’s book opened with the contented sigh of a brand-new story entering the world. The pages turned, stopping to reveal a delicate drawing of Katherine. A gold ribbon marked the page. At the top, in Katherine’s crisp handwriting, were the words “The Beginning.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Katherine’s Story of Their Recent Amazements

  TO THE CHILDREN’S SURPRISE, the drawing of Katherine began to move and talk, and then her voice filled the room. The insects stopped their tidying, and the owls quieted their hooting. Mr. Qwerty paused in his work on the other books. The only other movement in Big Root came from the turning of the pages and the fluttering wings of the moths and butterflies that cooled the children against the summer heat. Standing watch outside, Petrov and the bear leaned forward to listen too, for even a horse and a bear love a good story.

  “Did you also get a present?” William the Absolute Youngest asked the Katherine drawing. “If you didn’t, I’ll share mine with you when you get home.”

  “I got a wonderful present,” Katherine assured him. “It’s all a part of the story.” And so she began, the pages of the book turning as she talked.

  “Do you remember how Pitch disappeared into the ground to escape the sunlight?”

  The children all nodded. Light was the one thing that Pitch could not stand.

  “And remember how North made the mechanical djinni?”

  The children nodded again.

  “Good. Now I will tell you what became of the djinni.”

  The children leaned in closer, unable to take their eyes from the drawings as Katherine filled them in on what had happened over the last several weeks. “Pitch had possessed the djinni, disguised as a spider, and he had learned Ombric’s spells of enslavement. He’d turned Ombric and North into porcelain toys and was going to destroy them. But the spectral boy named Nightlight saved us all.”

  The children gasped at this news. Petrov whinnied. Even the butterflies stopped fluttering.

  “Nightlight is a great hero,” Katherine said, her face beaming. “He was once the protector of the Man in the Moon, and he kept Pitch trapped for centuries! He is fearless and powerful, and now he’s our friend and protector.”

  The children looked at one another, eyes wide.

  “Nightlight and I found Ombric and North in the high Himalayas—the tallest mountains in the world. But since Pitch had gotten inside the djinni’s metal shell, no light could get through to him, and he was practically invincible. He’d gathered a huge army of Fearlings, there was a terrible battle, and all hope seemed lost. Then—then!—Nightlight brought his own army to help us.”

  “What kind of army?” Petter had to ask.

  Katherine grinned. “Moonbeams! And the Lunar Lamas sent Abominable Snowmen. You know, the ones Ombric has always talked about? They’re real, as big as our bear, and there are hundreds of them. They’re actually called Yetis.”

  The children cheered as Katherine’s drawings showed scene after scene of the battle.

  Katherine’s book

  Then the pages paused at a sketch of Katherine, Ombric, and North as they stood within a sort of castle.

  “Where is that?” Sascha asked.

  “Ah! That is the Lunar Lamadary! It was built by the Lunar Lamas. They’re holy men older than even Ombric.”

  The next drawing showed Ombric, North, and Katherine surrounded by Yetis and Lunar Lamas, then the page turned, and there was a drawing of the kindest-looking face they had ever seen.

  “Who’s that?” asked Fog.

  “He is the Man in the Moon,” Katherine told him. The children murmured amongst themselves. The Man in the Moon!

  “The Man in the Moon told us Pitch had crashed to Earth, and it was Nightlight who’d trapped him, deep underground, for all of those centuries when he’d disappeared!” Katherine recounted. “The Man in the Moon told us that now that Pitch has returned, he will never stop, and he asked us if we would join the war to destroy Pitch forever.”

  “So there will be more battles?” William the Almost Youngest gulped.

  “Does that mean we won’t see you for a long time?” asked Fog.

  “When are you coming home? We miss you,” Sascha added.

  The children’s questions, and Katherine’s answers, were drowned out by a loud honking noise.

  Katherine began to laugh. “I’ll tell you more later—I have my baby goose to take care of!”

  A drawing of a very large gosling appeared on the page.

  William the Absolute Youngest jumped closer for a better look. “Is that your present?”

  “Yes! Her name is Kailash. She’s a Himalayan Snow Goose, and she’s going to grow as big as a horse. She thinks I’m her mother. But tonight at bedtime, my book will tell you all about her, I promise.”

  Then the book closed itself slowly, and the children were left with the impossible task of having to wait till bedtime to hear the rest of the story. Yet they were the children of Santoff Claussen! Mischief and magic would speed their day.

  But, for a glowworm named Mr. Qwerty, there could not be enough time. Of all the books in Ombric’s library, Katherine’s was the most amazing. He would spend the rest of the day polishing it till it shined like a jewel.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  A Short Frolic Across the Planet

  MEANWHILE, FAR AWAY IN the highest Himalayas, Katherine sat at one of the Moon-shaped tables in the library of the Lunar Lamadary. It was there that the Grand High Lama had ta
ught her how to make her magic sketchbooks. How, if she thought hard enough, the drawings and the words she wrote could come to life on the page. The ink and paper she used were ordinary, but her mind, her imagination, was what gave the words and pictures their great power: the power to connect her to anyone who read her stories.

  This was the first time she had tried to contact her friends through one of these charmed books, and she was thrilled by how well it had worked. It was as if she were right there in Ombric’s library, sitting next to the youngest William and the others. But it also made her miss her friends even more.

  Nightlight sat perched on one of the library chairs, also listening to Katherine’s story. He especially enjoyed the parts about himself. Katherine was never happier than when Nightlight was nearby. Though he never uttered a word, they had become very close. He was a miraculous friend. He could fly and speak to moonbeams with his mind. He made her laugh and always kept her safe. But it was in the nearly silent times that the real strength of their bond was evident. A friend who understands everything without being told is the rarest and best kind of friend. So this evening, without Katherine having to say a word, Nightlight could tell that she missed the children back in Santoff Claussen and worried for their safety.

  While Katherine fed her gosling—a process that involved several Yetis and an astonishing amount of oatmeal—Nightlight set off for Santoff Claussen to make sure that the children were safe. Katherine didn’t see him leave, but she knew that he had left. This was the time of day when he would fly across the world to check for signs of Pitch.