CHAPTER FIVE
The Guardians Begin to Guard
THIS YEAR HAD BEEN one of particular unease for the Guardians.
Jack had kept to himself, which was his tendency under even normal circumstances. But this year he’d grown more distant. Since the establishment of the Earth Holidays, the Guardians had focused on their individual tasks, and their public identities had evolved. Their fame and influence had been smashing successes. They were known and revered the world over, and their devotion to guarding the spirit of Earth’s children was unmatched in ambition and effect. They brought a genuine hope to the world. Not just for the young, but for those who held hard to the notion of remaining what was called “young at heart.”
Sanderson Mansnoozie was now known simply as the Sandman. He not only used his Dreamsand to help children sleep when excited, afraid, or overstimulated, but he also dealt with the persistent battling of Pitch’s remaining Nightmare troops, though this chore was one that every Guardian shared.
Queen Toothiana was generally referred to as the Tooth Fairy or simply Tooth. From her headquarters in Punjam Hy Loo, she oversaw the vast exchange of the lost teeth of Earth’s children for various trinkets left under pillows. In her fortress stronghold she and her fairy armies catalogued and guarded these countless teeth and the childhood memories they contained.
E. Aster Bunnymund, the last of the tribe of giant rabbits called Pookas, was now known throughout the world as the Easter Bunny. It had been Jack himself who had suggested the reconfiguring of Bunnymund’s first initial, E., and his middle name, Aster, into “Easter,” as well as the delivering of eggs on that particular holiday Sunday in spring. This idea was, at first glance, a lark, but it quickly took hold. Chocolate eggs were Bunnymund’s specialty, but soon actual eggs dyed a multitude of colors were added to the occasion, and the hiding of these eggs (again, Jack’s suggestion) and their placement in baskets filled with grass evolved quickly. Bunnymund’s already intricate underground tunnel-highways became even more elaborate and made the delivery of the eggs much more possible in a single evening.
North, too, made his Christmas Day extravaganza with a similar all-in-one-night urgency and ingenuity, but now he made a point of always outdoing Bunnymund in scale and panache. Theirs was a friendly, joking rivalry, though Bunnymund never fully understood any joke. His Pookan mind had yet to grasp the idea of humor, though he tried.
It may seem that North’s evolution into the being known as Santa Claus (the name came from Ombric’s magic village of Santoff Claussen) had been the most dazzling of the Guardians’ transformations, and in many ways that opinion was merited. Christmas had become more than a single day; it had become a state of mind that stretched out over an entire season. It became a distinct feeling. Though cloaked by winter, Christmas had an unmistakable warmth. The custom of decorated trees, colored lights, songs, presents, and a delirious variety of pageantry blended together to create this feeling. It was hopeful and comforting and slightly unreal, perhaps better than real, and it became known affectionately as Christmastime, a term that greatly pleased North and his former mentor, Ombric.
Of all the Guardians, Ombric Shalazar had been in some ways the most radically transformed. His valiant sacrifice during the Battle of Bright Night had been a dangerous gamble, and indeed it left him in a state that would have terrified a less experienced soul. He now barely existed at all, at least not in a form that science could explain. But Ombric’s cumulative knowledge of magic, science, and time had left him with a different expectation of what would happen if he no longer existed as actual matter. He existed now as a being of time itself or, perhaps more accurately, in between time. He could move about through the past and present, but he was never really in either.
His beard pooled in great heaps around him and was so white, it was almost transparent. You were never sure when you might catch a glimpse of him, but he could communicate when he was called. And the Guardians called upon him often. Children had named him Father Time, and it was his ability to slow time that made the ventures of Christmas, Easter, and the Tooth Fairy possible. Only by bringing time to a near halt were North, Bunnymund, and Tooth able to accomplish their tasks in such short order.
How thoroughly Ombric controlled time was always something of a mystery, but this much they all assumed: Father Time could never venture into the future.
The Man in the Moon was now the gentle Zeus of the Guardians’ living mythology, and his word was undisputed law. Bunnymund, Mansnoozie, and Jack began as Golden Age creatures. North, Ombric, Katherine, and Tooth started life as human, or mostly so. But the Man in the Moon, or MiM, as the other Guardians sometimes called him, had been royalty of the Golden Age, and within his heart lived all that was worthy from that rare, majestic time.
Despite the murder of MiM’s parents by Pitch, despite the tragedy of his orphaned life within the Moon, despite all the loss and loneliness he had endured, he had remained as kind in thought and deed as the most innocent of children. But he also had a great wisdom. He seldom ordered the Guardians to do anything. He instead guided them as a grandfather guides his grandchildren. And like all grandfathers, he was much stronger and more resilient than expected. He had, after all, withstood trials that would fell even the mightiest.
Brave little Katherine had now grown up. Because of Kailash, Katherine was known throughout the world as Mother Goose. All of her famous stories and rhymes were based on incidents, beings, and creatures that were a part of her growing up with the Guardians. But her duties extended far beyond penning entertainments for children, for she also chronicled the history and goings-on of the Guardians, their many struggles and triumphs. These histories were not for the amusement of the outside world, but were instead intended for the Guardians themselves. Their lives had become so lengthy and rich that the Guardians sometimes needed or simply wanted to read and remember how things had once been. History, especially one’s own, can sometimes help even a mighty Guardian understand the confusions of the present.
And these were indeed confusing times for the world and for the Guardians—1933 had been among the darkest years they had experienced in their Earthly dominion. A malady that grown-ups called the Great Depression had enshrouded the globe, and it affected virtually every man, woman, and child. The forces of upset were testing the Guardians’ abilities and expertise. For all their knowledge of magic and potions and dreams and stories, for all their bravery and goodness, this Great Depression left the Guardians baffled.
It had begun with something called the Crash. But what exactly had crashed was almost impossible for them to grasp. They’d discussed it intently when its symptoms first appeared. “A market of some sort,” explained Bunnymund. “Filled with socks, I believe.”
“The word I heard was ‘stock.’ It was a market of stocks,” corrected North.
“No, I’m sure it was socks, my bearded, bloated friend,” replied Bunnymund. “I mean to say, what is a ‘stock,’ anyway? That makes no sense at all. The word is ‘sock.’ It was a sock crash!”
“Bunnymund, your ears may be large, but your brain is a molecule!” responded North. “Socks do not make a crashing sound when they fall, even in an impressive mound. They simply tumble, and having tumbled, they certainly couldn’t make a crashing sound that could account for all the chaos that’s happening now!”
It was a socioeconomic calamity encompassing the world economy, mused Sandy in his elegant, golden sandscript, which floated in the air above them. A severe downturn in equity prices of commonly traded stocks in companies across all markets, causing a panic and an ensuing “crash” of stock prices. The sleepy fellow paused. The explanation was so complicated, it had made him fall asleep.
“I mean, I know how the whole rigmarole happened,” said North. “I just haven’t a clue as to what it means.”
“Indeed,” Bunnymund remarked dryly. “These adult enterprises are not our strong suit.”
And so the Guardians had watched with ever-desperat
e alarm as millions of grown-ups lost their jobs, their homes, their farms, everything. Countless families now roamed the open road, desperate for a roof over their heads, a place to sleep, or even a hot meal. The Guardians saw this vividly during their gift-delivery efforts on this Christmas Eve. Thousands of children could not be located. Many deliveries could not be made. The entire world seemed adrift. This hurt them. And where, oh where, was Jack Frost?
CHAPTER SIX
Misgivings on Giving Gifts
MOST YEARS, JACK’S DUTIES on Christmas Eve were primarily of his own choosing. He could fly on the wind to any place on Earth in a matter of minutes, and so he tended to keep a watchful eye on the entire undertaking. If there was a sudden, disastrous tangle of Toy Supply Balloon Blimps over Europe, he would drop in to sort out the traffic jam and send the blimps on to their assigned locations. Thus, as North and his sleigh made their way to each city, they could load up with the requested toys that were stored within these blimps and then blanket that city and its surrounding towns and villages with the wished-for toys of the children who lived there. If time allowed, Jack would accompany North on some of his deliveries. The quiet, secretive nature of leaving the toys under trees and in stockings without being seen was pure joy, and something of a contest between the two. Being the fastest and the quietest was the goal, and Jack could not help but trick and tease his old friend.
That’s the wrong present, he might say to North.
Don’t try your tricks on me, runt. This is 1211 Pearly Pine Way. Little Tommy Gladstone. Aged seven. A drum set, toy soldiers, a bow and arrow, and a sailboat. It’s all here on the Certified Deliveries List!
No, no, no, that’s two houses down. This is Young Bertram and Louisa Ternwhistle. They asked for six actual ponies, two flying automobiles, and a real baby elephant!
What?!
Don’t tell me you forgot the baby elephant.
That’s ridiculous!
I guess you forgot flying automobiles, too?
North would then realize that Jack was kidding, and then they’d finish the real delivery. North would get his milk and cookies, and they’d both peek in at the sleeping children. Jack knew how almost every child’s year had gone. And Santa knew which children Jack favored: the lonely and sometimes troubled ones. The ones Jack would purposefully erase from the final list of Naughties.
Every kid deserves a break or two, he’d tell North, especially from a jolly fat man who’s supposed to be the good guy.
So says the naughtiest boy of all, North would reply with a chuckle, yet he always followed Jack’s advice on how to deal with a naughty or nice child.
This year, however, was different. North was alone. Jack was keeping his distance. His wounded hand throbbed with pain constantly; he felt sure that he was being followed. There were more Nightmare Men out there, or something like them. And he was certain that his being close to any Christmas deliveries would only bring trouble.
Even from a distance, Jack could see that this Christmas was not going well.
CHAPTER SEVEN
A Yuletide Most Untidy
OUT OF CAUTION, JACK was waiting for the group back at the pole when the Christmas deliveries were completed. Katherine was relieved to see him, but the other Guardians could all tell from the look on Jack’s face that he was even more worried than they were. North decided not to question Jack’s absence. He knew the boy had been doing his best in his own way.
“I fear for what is to come,” Tooth said, expressing what each of them was feeling. “The grown-ups are becoming desperate. The children are staying strong and steady, but all this uncertainty, this dread, takes its toll on them.”
“Indeed,” North agreed. “But I’m afraid worse things are in store.”
“Another war?” asked Bunnymund. The mere mention of the word woke Sandy from his nap. Black sand began to curl about his head. They all remembered that awful war. The one called the World War.
“The grown-ups seem to be going crazy again,” said Tooth. “Imagine becoming so angry and foolish that you would destroy homes, lands, lives!”
“Yes,” said Bunnymund. “I’d rather hoped that grown-up humans would behave better than this.”
But North had a different view. “I have to say I’m not surprised, just disappointed. I thought perhaps we would help children grow up in a way that would remind their adult selves what they know is wrong.”
Toothiana twitched a wing. “I worry about something more. I worry that children will stop believing.” The idea made them go quiet. Belief was the lifeblood of everything the Guardians hoped to achieve. To make children believe in the power of magic. To believe in the magic of the impossible.
Katherine had yet to say anything. Her relief at seeing Jack was tempered by a new concern. She had been watching as Jack silently paced at the edge of North’s study. He was most close to the children, in temperament and form, so she knew these events were affecting him most of all. Her heart ached to see the strain on him.
And so they sat or paced and muddled over this Great Depression that threatened the world they loved so dearly. Then each became aware of the other having the exact same thought. Beginning in their earliest days together, they had developed the ability to share thoughts and feelings during times of crisis or great happiness. And this was a crisis that gave them each the same desperate thought: If only Ombric could use his powers to tell them the future, tell them how to fight the gloom that seemed to threaten the world.
The room suddenly illuminated, and the wizard’s image flickered at the center. Ombric had heard them. He appeared as a strobelike phantom, desperate to tell them something. But they could not make out what he was trying to say—his voice was unclear, splintered. The massive efforts to slow time across all of Earth during Christmas had clearly wearied the wizard.
“Calm yourself,” North gently said to his old teacher. “You have done all you can for now.”
In response Ombric pounded his fists in the air, as if trying to break through from his twilight existence. He was like a madman in his desperation.
“He’ll burn himself out!” cried Tooth.
“North,” said Bunnymund, his voice uncommonly concerned for a Pooka, “you must calm him.”
But before North could say more, Ombric slumped, shaking his head in exhaustion, his long beard sweeping against the floor. He began to fade. But as he did, he looked very deliberately at Jack Frost. Jack returned the gaze. Their exchange was intense, but Ombric’s expression gradually grew serene. The furrows on his brow smoothed. Father Time and Jack were speaking with only their thoughts, but oddly, these thoughts were blocked from the other Guardians. They could feel a mental wall in their minds that kept this conversation from them, but it did not feel like an unfriendly act of secrecy. They trusted Ombric’s judgment in speaking only to Jack. The old wizard always had a reason, and he had never failed them.
North mused, “He’s helping us the only way he can.”
Ombric grew dimmer still. His figure became as hazy as fog, but his eyes, fixed on Jack’s, remained bright. Finally, Jack seemed to nod. Then Ombric blinked, and with that blink, he was gone.
Jack stared transfixed at the place Ombric had just left. He didn’t seem aware that the others had quietly encircled him. It was Katherine who spoke first.
“Jack?” she said.
“How can we help, boy?” asked North. But Jack would not answer.
“We should call the Man in the Moon,” Bunnymund suggested.
“No!” shouted Jack, rousing at last. He took Katherine’s hand and, gazing off into the distance, said, “I need one of your stories, Miss Goose. It’s been a long time since you told me one.”
And in an instant they were flying away from the North Pole on Kailash. The sky was a sea of stars, and Jack kept his eyes on the Moon, full above them. Katherine knew not to ask him any questions; he would speak when he was ready. To be with Jack, alone, was a rare gift these days. He was still holding her hand. He
rs was warm. His was cold, so cold.
Though centuries had passed since they’d first met, in their hearts they were the same age again, the same as when they had first saved the world and each other.
The Moon was shining down on them as they rode through the night sky. They had been through so much together, and there was drama ahead. But tonight the warmth of their memories gave them the strength to face the troubles that were surely coming.
But for these brief hours they were Katherine and Nightlight once more.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The Everlasting Lip Touch
IT ALL BEGAN WITH a kiss, remembered Katherine as they flew. That’s when Nightlight ended and Jack Frost began.
She thought back to the War of Dreams so many years ago, when Pitch had imprisoned her in an endless nightmare of sleep. Nightlight had guessed that a kiss would break that awful spell. But no one knew that this kiss would change them both forever.
Nightlight was a special being of the Golden Age. The Nightlights were a secretive brotherhood about which almost nothing was known. Ombric, Bunnymund, even Nightlight himself knew very little about the brotherhood, and understood even less. Katherine was certain of only the following: Nightlight had existed for a single purpose: to protect one child. That child was young Prince Lunanoff, who became MiM, the Man in the Moon. Nightlight was also the last of his kind, and he was never intended to grow up. He was a childlike being, a celestial creature with vast powers. But a kiss is human magic, and when Nightlight kissed Katherine, the magic of the Golden Age and the magic of humans mixed and merged and made a new magic that was unlike any the universe had ever seen.
The kiss had only lasted a second or two. Ombric had measured it at exactly 2.86001 seconds, and Bunnymund referred to it as the “everlasting lip touch,” which struck Katherine as a very Pookan way to describe what had happened. Ombric had tried to explain some of what their kiss had unleashed when he told them, “For humans, the first kiss is the end of childhood and the beginning of the grown-up journey. When two beings understand each other completely and never tire of each other, when they are always eager to be in the other’s company, when they find delight even in the other’s faults and trust in everything they do, when absence brings both anguish and strength, and when hope is made solid, then a kiss brings forth the most powerful magic of all. It creates an unshakable belief. Belief in another.”
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