“Most unsubtle bit of conjuring,” he conceded as he finished his story. “More like something you, Nicholas, would have done in your early days. . . . I could have accidentally hurt someone—one of the reindeer or even young Katherine. Can’t imagine what got into me.” Even an astral projection can blush with embarrassment, and Ombric, for the first time in several hundred years, did that exact thing. North laughed in astonishment.
“You’re as red as the setting sun, old man!” North teased.
“He was just worried about us,” Katherine interrupted.
“Harumph,” Ombric muttered, then kept himself busy searching among the pulverized bits of the mountaintop until he found his discarded toy body and projected himself back into it. Within a few moments he had broken the last vestige of Pitch’s spell and returned, as North had, to his flesh-and-blood self.
North narrowed his eyes. “How did you do that? And furthermore, how did I do that?”
The wizard paused and regarded his apprentice. “You know, a daydream properly utilized can be the most powerful force in the universe. One need only dream of freedom to begin to break the spell of enslavement.”
North nodded. His teacher was right. But he knew that for him it was something else. “It was more than a daydream that brought me back, old man.” He looked down at Katherine. “You saved me, in many ways . . .” He reached for his compass that hung from Katherine’s lapel. His gift had served them both rather well. Katherine had her great adventure and North had found a friend for life. He turned to the old wizard. “I came to your village in search of treasure. But I found a better one than I ever supposed.”
Ombric looked at the ground and was quiet for a moment. When he spoke it was with real and gentle compassion. “I told you once there was no magic in the world that can change a human heart. You’ve proven me wrong, my young friend.” Then he smiled fully for the first time in centuries.
But the friends couldn’t dwell on this lovely moment. Now that everyone was safe, they were rushed to the Lunar Lamadary. The Lamas had judged them worthy to receive the highest honor their brotherhood could bestow, and the ceremony was ready to begin.
“There is no place on Earth where the light is as bright and clear as in the Himalayan Mountains,” Ombric said cheerfully as he, North, and Katherine stood atop the tower of the Lunar Lamadary. “No other place is as close to the Moon. Why, we’re on the highest spot in the world!” And one of the most beautiful. The Lamadary was a simple palace of lapis lazuli and opal mosaics, and it managed to keep the cool, serene feeling of moonlight, even in the morning sun.
Bells and gongs began to ring from all around the temple that sat in the center of the Lamadary. Katherine couldn’t stop staring at its roofline, where thousands of silver bells chimed with the slightest wisp of wind.
“What do you suppose we’ll be given?” she asked.
“I hope it’s food,” North joked. “Ombric has already eaten everything in sight, and I’m afraid he’ll start chewing on my coat.”
Ombric shushed them both as they entered the courtyard. The entire brotherhood of Lamas stood at attention, as did an honor guard of the giant shaggy warriors.
“What are they called again?” whispered Katherine.
“Those in the outside world call them Abominable Snowmen, but the Lamas refer to them as Yetis,” Ombric whispered back.
The great hulking creatures had never seen a child before and were fascinated by Katherine. As were all the denizens of the Lamadary, especially the half dozen birds, enormous in size, their wings silver-tipped, which the Lamas cared for. They were the Great Snow Geese of the Himalayas, a species of bird unknown to any outside the Lamadary. Ombric mused, “I must remember to notate these geese in my notebooks.”
Katherine had already included them in her journal. She was the only child in the history of the world who had ever seen them! “I should very much like to ride one. They are big enough,” she whispered loudly, but Ombric held a finger to his lips, and she knew it was truly time to be quiet.
The trio was ushered to the center of the courtyard. The reindeer grazed along the edges, raising their antlers in salute as they walked by. Katherine could barely take her eyes off the beautiful gong Ombric had told them about. She scanned the carvings for her friend, the spectral boy—Nightlight. (She was glad to finally know he had a name.) Where is Nightlight? she wondered. Of all people, he should be here. But the ceremony began without him.
The Grand High Lama, who looked exactly like all the other Lamas except for the gilded scepter he carried, stepped forward and struck the great gong. It made the most melodious sound that the visitors had ever heard.
As it rang out, the gong began to turn from solid metal to a clear, glasslike substance. Through its milky translucence, they could see the Moon. Murmurs and speculation filled the air. Could it be? Was this really the moment the Lamas—everyone—had been waiting for? As the gong’s reverberations quieted, the Moon seemed to swell in size. Then a face emerged from the craters. Immediately the Lamas knelt down in reverence. Here before them was the kindest, gentlest face imaginable.
“Tsar Lunar!” gasped Ombric. He caught Katherine’s elbow.
Yes. It was the Man in the Moon.
His image flickered and waned, like light through lush, swaying trees. His image was not stable, but dotted with shadows and static. Still, there was no denying that he was there. His voice was calm and velvety—almost musical.
“Greetings, my valiant friends,” he began. “You have faced the greatest evil of any age, and yet you never wavered. Each of you was willing to sacrifice everything for this cause. Such bravery. Such skill. Such wisdom you each have shown! For that you have my deepest thanks.”
North, Ombric, and Katherine, feeling humbled and self-conscious, gave awkward bows.
“But this fight is far from over,” the Man in the Moon continued. “Pitch lives and will not stop. Can you—will you—continue the fight?”
An audience with Tsar Lunar, the Man in the Moon!
The three looked at one another for a quick moment, but they knew what their answer would be. North unsheathed his sword and held it at attention. Ombric did the same with his staff, and Katherine raised her dagger.
The Man in the Moon smiled down at them. It was a smile of such warmth and friendliness that it made any who saw it feel as though no matter what trials were to come, all would be well.
“Then you will need help,” said Tsar Lunar.
At this, the Grand Lama pulled from his robe an ancient weapon, and held it out to them. It was a sword so unusual that North, who thought he’d known (and used) every weapon in creation, stepped forward to take a closer look. On its blade was a golden orb that glowed, and on its tip was a crescent moon.
“There are four other pieces of my Moon Clipper that fell to Earth in the last Battle of the Golden Age,” the Man in the Moon told them. “If these five pieces are brought together, they will become a most formidable weapon against Pitch. This first piece was my father’s sword. But this is not merely a sword for battle. Within its workings are many of the secrets of the Golden Age. Whoever wields it will need great learning, wisdom, and courage. Who among you shall take it?”
Instantly both North and Katherine thought of Ombric, but before they could speak, the wizard stepped forward. He took the sword from the Grand Lama and examined it with his usual intensity. Oh, the wonders this sword must contain, he thought. The ancient secrets it will finally reveal. But then he raised one eyebrow and gazed at North, and in one quick move handed him the weapon.
“You are my apprentice no more,” he said with a warmth North had only heard him ever use when addressing Katherine. “You have learned all the lessons I can teach and have more than earned this.”
North was stunned. And for the first time in his life, truly unsure. “Ombic . . . I’m not ready or deserving. You waited all your life—”
“Ombric’s right,” interrupted Katherine quietly. North loo
ked at her, searched her young, brave face. She had always known what was best for him. In her own way she may even be wiser than Ombric, he thought.
So North took the sword. As he held it in his hand, he felt not a great rush of emotions, but a strange calm. A certainty of purpose. A sense of belonging that he had never known before. As if his whole life lay before him and he knew how it would play out. It would be like Katherine’s dream.
He looked up at the Man in the Moon’s image. The Man in the Moon was waiting for his answer.
“You have my pledge to use it wisely and well,” said North. “Now, and always.”
Watching from the highest tower of the Lamadary was Nightlight, unseen by anyone. His focus was distracted; he was scanning the nearby mountains for any sign of Pitch. But he wanted to join his friends. He held his staff close to his face. The little moonbeam in the diamond dagger tip—this moonbeam who had started this whole great drama into motion on a winter’s night that now seemed so long ago—could sense his longing. It glowed brightly and seemed to say, “Go on. We’re safe now.” Nightlight laughed his perfect laugh and flew down to join them.
He landed in the Lamadary, quick and playful, and, taking Katherine’s hand, pulled her into the sky. The Lamas cheered. The Snow Geese honked. Ombric grabbed a huge cookie that he’d had hidden in his robe and cheerfully devoured it. Nightlight and Katherine spiraled around in the air. The Man in the Moon glowed brighter than the Lamas had ever seen. And for that one day, all their worlds seemed safe and right.
The weeks that followed were quiet. They’d all earned a good rest. Ombric ate so much that the Yetis (who, oddly, were accomplished chefs) could barely keep up with his appetite.
“I doubt we’ll ever have another stretch of days as calm as these again,” mused North to Katherine as they stood on the temple’s parapet days later. Katherine was sketching the Snow Geese into her journal. “I suspect these are our halcyon days,” North added.
“Halcyon days?” she asked.
“Ah, one of those ancient words Ombric is so fond of using. It means happy and carefree.” North grinned and added, “I prefer battles and adventures.”
Katherine knew what he meant. All these new amazements were in their lives. Abominable Snowmen. Giant Snow Geese. Lunar Lamas. She wondered if Santoff Claussen would still feel like home. She closed her eyes for a moment to remember her life as it had been. Images of the villagers—Old William, little Fog, the bear, Petrov—and Big Root, all of it, flooded her memory. And she missed them, but she’d also become accustomed to all this danger and adventuring. Still, despite all this, she felt an odd sort of peace.
“It’s the bliss of victory,” North explained to her. “It’s a feeling you’ll have to get used to.”
Katherine’s face grew serious. “But we didn’t defeat Pitch.”
“True, but we lived to fight another day.”
Katherine thought about that. Then she tugged a fresh stick of charcoal from her coat pocket and began to draw. North looked out toward the horizon and thought of the dream Katherine had given him. The gleaming city that he would someday build and the man he might become.
A strange and exciting future lay ahead for both of them. The possibilities were endless. Battles would be fought. Wonders revealed. Many journeys. Many lands. Many joys. Many sorrows.
But stories all . . .
THE NEXT CHAPTER IN OUR ONGOING SAGA WILL BE
E. ASTER BUNNYMUND
AND THE BATTLE OF
THE WARRIOR EGGS
Contents
Before Chapter One
A Recap, a Prelude, and a Premonition of Terror
Chapter One
We Begin Our Story with a Story
Chapter Two
In Which Old Friends Are Reunited
Chapter Three
Katherine’s Story of Their Recent Amazements
Chapter Four
A Short Frolic Across the Planet
Chapter Five
A Bedtime Story with a Girl, a Goose, and Snowmen Who Are Not so Abominable
Chapter Six
Amazing Discoveries and Ancient Magic
Chapter Seven
A Tall Tale for a Rabbit
Chapter Eight
A Hop, Skip, and a Jump Through Time
Chapter Nine
The Secret of the Sword
Chapter Ten
Revelations, Terror, and Daring Deeds
Chapter Eleven
As the Tower Flies
Chapter Twelve
Delicate Darkness
Chapter Thirteen
The Moonbeam Tells His Tale of Woe
Chapter Fourteen
A Moonbeam, a Mystery, and a Muddle
Chapter Fifteen
Wherein the Friends Must Separate
Chapter Sixteen
The Curl Twirls
Chapter Seventeen
In Which Pitch Appreciates North’s Ingenuity but Proves to Be a Dark Customer Indeed
Chapter Eighteen
A Surprising Twist with a Chocolate Center
Chapter Nineteen
Nightlight Is Dimmed
Chapter Twenty
In Which We Find Munch Marks of Mystery
Chapter Twenty-One
The Egg-cellent Exchange
Chapter Twenty-Two
One Mystery Begets Another
Chapter Twenty-Three
The Honk of Destiny
Chapter Twenty-Four
In Which There Is a Fearful Discovery and a Whisper of Hope
Chapter Twenty-Five
The Egg Armada
Chapter Twenty-Six
The Power of the Inner Pooka
Chapter Twenty-Eight
The Battle Begins
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The Voice
Chapter Thirty
In Which All Is Linked by an Ancient Mind Trick That Has a Most Surprising Origin
Chapter Thirty-One
The Mad Scramble
Chapter Thirty-Two
North Is Fallen
Chapter Thirty-Three
The Bookworm Turns
About William Joyce
To my lovely wife,
Elizabeth,
the grandest lady in all the cosmos
BEFORE CHAPTER ONE
A Recap, a Prelude, and a Premonition of Terror
SINCE THE BATTLE OF the Nightmare King had been won, the planet seemed to be relatively quiet.
Katherine, North, and Ombric had stayed in the Himalayas with the Lunar Lamas. They knew Pitch and his Nightmare Armies would strike again. Pitch had escaped wearing the robot djinni’s suit of armor and had vowed revenge against them all.
But the Man in the Moon had given North the magic sword that had belonged to his father. He had told them of four other relics from the Golden Age that could be helpful, perhaps essential, in defeating the Nightmare King, once and for all. But where Pitch was hiding or what they should do next was a puzzlement.
Similar questions were being pondered on a faraway island, in a secluded section of the Pacific Ocean. On this island there resided the most ancient, mysterious, and peculiar creature the world had ever known. Or not known, actually. Though he possessed extraordinary wisdom and power, he had given up on the comings and goings of history and humans. He had not allowed himself to be seen in living memory. This being, however, knew something was in the air. He knew about the battle of the Nightmare King, and he knew of Ombric and Pitch. He’d had dealings with them in the distant past. He could see and sense signs most unwelcome. Deep beneath the Earth (which was his realm), he heard ominous sounds. He kept to himself and liked it that way, but his animal instincts told him that, like it or not, he would once again be asked to help save the world he had so carefully cut himself off from.
His nose twitched. His massive ears flinched.
He wondered about the terrible battles to come and what, if any, part he would decide to play.
CHAPTER
ONE
We Begin Our Story with a Story
IN THE HINTERLANDS OF eastern Siberia was the village where Katherine, North, and Ombric called home. The village of Santoff Claussen felt somewhat lonely without them, but a dozen or so adventurous children played in the enchanted forest that protected their homes from the outside world. The surrounding oak trees were among the largest in the world. Their massive trunks and limbs were a paradise for climbing.
Petter, a strong boy of twelve who imagined himself a daring hero, catapulted onto the porch of his favorite tree house. He landed just ahead of his little sister, Sascha. She was testing her latest invention: gloves and shoes that allowed her to scamper up a tree, like a squirrel. But Petter’s catapult was faster.
“I’ll beat you next time,” Sascha said, hoping that a small engine on the heel of each shoe would do the trick.
She peered down at the clearing hundreds of feet below. The village’s bear, a massive creature, loped around the perimeter of the clearing along with Petrov, the horse of Nicholas St. North. Sascha was wondering if she’d ever be allowed to ride Petrov when she spied Tall William, the first son of Old William, squatting on his heels, talking to a group of centipedes. The children of Santoff Claussen had begun to learn the easier insect languages (ant, worm, snail), but Tall William was the first to tackle the more difficult speech of centipede. Sascha pressed a trumpet-shaped sound amplifier to her ear.
Tall William reported what the centipedes said, that all was well—Pitch, the Nightmare King, was nowhere to be seen. It was a warm summer day, but the memory of that terrible time when Pitch appeared in Santoff Claussen made Sascha shiver as if it were the darkest night in deepest winter.
Pitch had once been a hero of the Golden Age, an ancient time when Constellations ruled the universe. His name in those days long ago was General Kozmotis Pitchiner, and he had led the Golden Age Armies in capturing the Fearlings and Dream Pirates who plagued that era. These villains were wily creatures of darkness. When they escaped, they devoured the general’s soul, and from that moment on, he hungered for the dreams of innocent children and was known simply as “Pitch.” He was determined to drain the good from dreams until they became nightmares—every last one of them—so that the children of Earth and then other worlds would live in terror. And the dreams of the children of Santoff Claussen—who had never before known fear or wickedness—were the prizes he coveted most.
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