The Guardians

by William Joyce

  Old William and his sons, along with all the other parents and children, gaped in wonder at the sight of the Lamas’ headquarters and the cool, serene, creamy glow of its moonstone and opal mosaics. Sascha nearly tumbled out of the train’s window in her effort to see the Lamadary’s famous tower, which was also an airship. Even Mr. Qwerty, his pages fluttering, hurried toward the train’s doors to get a closer look.

  Gongs rang out. Bells—hundreds of them—chimed in the wind. Yaloo, the leader of the Yetis, stood with the Snow Geese at the edge of the platform, and blew a silver horn forged from ancient meteors, as the Snow Geese honked a warm “hello” at the sight of Kailash and Katherine.

  As the welcoming reverberations quieted, Ombric stepped onto the platform. “Greetings, my good friends,” he addressed the gathering. “We’ve come to speak to the Man in the Moon . . . and to report what we think is historic news.”

  The old man was clearly eager to see the Man in the Moon and share their findings, but there were the curiously slow habits of the Lamas to consider. They never did anything quickly and were usually very, very, very talkative. And yet, surprisingly, it seemed that the Lamas were just as eager to proceed. It was highly unusual for them to rush for any reason, but today they whisked everyone off the train and directly toward the Lamadary’s courtyard.

  The Yetis lined the outer edges of the courtyard as the Lamas led everyone else to the huge gong at its very center.

  The children could barely contain their excitement. The Man in the Moon was about to be summoned!

  The Grand High Lama glided forward. He smiled serenely, then, with almost shocking suddenness, he struck the great gong with his gilded scepter. The sound was sweet and strong. It grew and echoed throughout the temple, then throughout the mountains around them until it sounded as though the whole Earth was humming a gentle “hello” to the heavens.

  The gong itself began to shimmer, shifting from a solid metal to a clear, glasslike substance. And as the children pointed in astonishment, the Moon began to appear in the milky light at the gong’s center, swelling in size until a face emerged from the craters—the kindest, gentlest face anyone could imagine.

  The Lamas bowed, as did the five Guardians and everyone else in the courtyard. As they stood up, Nightlight and the friendly moonbeam that lived in the diamond tip of his staff blinked a greeting. North raised his sword in salute and noticed that it had begun to glow. So did the egg on the tip of Bunnymund’s staff. Katherine held her dagger aloft exactly as she had when she had vowed to battle Pitch so many months ago, and Ombric simply placed the palms of his hands together and lowered his head even farther in greeting.

  “Tsar Lunar,” he said in a reverent tone, “we’ve scoured the Earth for Pitch and found no trace of him. Can you tell us, has he truly been defeated?”

  The image on the gong flickered and waned like moonlight on a cloudy night. The Man in the Moon’s voice was so deep, it almost seemed like a heartbeat. “My valiant friends,” he said. “Each night I send thousands of moonbeams down to Earth, and each night they return clear and untarnished by Pitch’s dark ways.” As he spoke, a wide smile spread across his face.

  The Man in the Moon

  Cheers rung out throughout the Lamadary.

  “It appears the world is on the cusp of a new Golden Age,” he continued, “a Golden Age on Earth. And it is you, my Guardians, who must guide its creation. It is a task of great daring imagination and thoughtful dreaming.”

  Everyone’s eyes turned to Ombric, Katherine, Bunnymund, North, and Nightlight. One old, one young, one from another world, one who overcame a most disreputable beginning, and one a spirit of light. Such a group could bring about a Golden Age. But who would lead this historic endeavor?

  To everyone’s surprise, it was North who stepped forward. “I have a plan,” he said.

  He sheathed his sword and raised his other hand, opening his palm to reveal a small paper box covered with minute drawings and plans. Katherine recognized it. It’s what the elves were working on!

  “This was a gift, one that I now pass on,” North began, stealing a glance at Katherine and then turning back to the Man in the Moon. “A dream for the new Golden Age.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  The Future Unfolds

  WITH THAT, NORTH CLOSED his eyes for a moment, recalling Ombric’s first lesson: The power of magic lies in believing. He began to chant, “I believe, I believe.”

  Ombric, Katherine, and even Bunnymund joined him, quickly followed by the entire courtyard, and the box in North’s hand unfolded into a vast origami wonder.

  A magical city seemed to grow out of North’s palm. Ombric’s eyebrows raised. North was becoming something more powerful than a warrior or a wizard. Ombric could sense it.

  North tipped his head toward Katherine, whose eyes were shining—this was the dream she had given him when all seemed lost during one of the first great battles with Pitch! A dream in which North was a powerful figure of mirth, mystery, and magic, who lived in a city surrounded by snow.

  Katherine nodded back encouragingly, and so North started.

  “I have a plan for building new centers of magic and learning,” North explained. “One village like Santoff Claussen is not enough, and to expand it would be to change it. What we need instead are more places where all those with kind hearts and inquiring minds—inventors, scientists, artists, and visionaries—will be welcomed and encouraged. Where children will always be safe and protected and grow to become their finest selves.”

  The paper city hovered in the air just above North’s palm. There was a great castlelike structure in its center, surrounded by workshops and cottages. A tiny Nicholas St. North could be seen striding through the village center, with his elves and Petrov, his horse, by his side. And a herd of mighty reindeer. The Yetis too were there.

  North bowed his head and waited for the Man in the Moon’s response. He’d thought he might feel anxious at this moment; instead, he felt peaceful—more peaceful than he could ever remember feeling. He had shared the truest dream of his heart.

  The Man in the Moon gazed down at North. He didn’t need to say anything. His luminous smile said all that needed saying.

  CHAPTER NINE

  A Tear of Mystery

  WITH ALL THE HURLY-BURLY and hubbub surrounding this new Golden Age and the city North would build, Katherine found herself lost in the shuffle. The adult Guardians were in a frenzy of excitement, talking heatedly among themselves. She didn’t mind, really. It made her happy to see North and Ombric in deep discussions again; it was like old times. And watching Bunnymund interject ideas was always amusing. He was enthusiastic as long as the plans involved chocolate or eggs. As the discussions went on, she realized they’d made a slight breakthrough. Bunnymund was now willing to broaden his interest to other types of candies. “Anything that is sweet has great philosophical and curative powers, and as such, could be key to this new Golden Age!” he pronounced with his usual droll pookery.

  The villagers of Santoff Claussen were also happily speculating about new innovations and technologies. The children, especially, were caught up in the commotion. Sascha and the youngest William came up to Katherine. “What do you think this all means?” Sascha asked.

  Katherine thought a moment, then answered, “It means that there’ll be amazing new things to invent and build and see and do.” Sascha’s and William’s eyes grew bright as they tried to imagine what this future would be like.

  As if reading their minds, Katherine added, “Everything will be . . . different.”

  Before they could ask her to explain, she caught a glimpse of Nightlight up on the highest tower of the Lamadary, and she hurried after him. All his dodging about had her increasingly worried. She could not feel his friendship. She could feel nothing from him at all.

  The steps to the bell tower were steeper than she’d expected and proved hard to climb. North’s compass, which she hadn’t taken off since he’d given it to her all those lon
g months ago, was swinging back and forth, thunking against her chest in a most annoying way. But she didn’t stop to remove it; she just climbed on.

  I hope Nightlight hasn’t flown off, she thought, trying to see around a corner as she neared the top steps. She began climbing much more quietly. Through an arched window, she could see him on the other side, perched on the ledge. His back was to her, but she could see that his head hung low, almost to his knees. The light from the diamond point of his staff was dim. And for the first time in days, she could sense his feelings; his feelings were sad. Very sad.

  She’d never known Nightlight to be sad! She crept closer still, until she could see that he was holding something. Carefully, carefully, without making a sound, she balanced herself out onto the ledge right next to him. In his hand he held something. She leaned forward even closer. It was a tear. A single tear.

  Nightlight suddenly realized she was there. He jumped to his feet with an abruptness that startled her. She teetered for a moment, windmilling her arms for balance.

  In a terrible instant, she fell from the ledge.

  CHAPTER TEN

  The Tooth of Destiny

  FALLING TO YOUR DEATH is a strange and unsettling sensation. Your mind becomes very sharp. Time seems to slow down. You are able to think an incredible number of thoughts at astonishing speed. These were Katherine’s thoughts for the three and a half seconds before she came in contact with the cobblestone courtyard of the Lunar Lamadary:

  Oh oh oh oh! Falling! I’m falling!!! FAAALL-LING!!!!! Not good!! Maybe I’m not falling. Please-please-pleasepleeeeese say I’m not falling. WRONG!!! FALLING!!! Falling FAST!!!! FastFastFastFast . . . Slow DOWN . . . Can’t CAN’T . . . Not good . . . Okay . . . think . . . How do I stop? I DON’T KNOW!!!!! Okay, okay, okay . . . I HATE GRAVITY . . . GRAVITY!!! HATE!!! HATE!!! HATE GRAVITY!!!!! Hairs in my mouth . . . My hair . . . Yuck . . . Spit . . . Okay . . . Hairs out of mouth . . . FALLING!!!! STILL FALLING!!!!! A tear? Why was Nightlight holding a tear? . . . Sad . . . real sad . . . SAD!!! SAD THAT I’M FALLING . . . Where is everybody? . . . There are flying people everywhere in this place. . . . FLYING PEOPLE HELP NOW!!!! RIGHT NOW!!! I’M YOUR FALLING FRIEND HERE . . . FALLING FAAAAAST . . . I MEAN IT!!! Where are all my magic flying friends? . . . Hellooo . . . falling Katherine . . . could USE A HAND . . . NOW!!!! Now NOW NOW NOWWWWWW!!! Is that Nightlight? . . . Can’t tell . . . OH NO TURNING FALLING FAST DOWN GROUND COMING NOT GOOD NOT GOOD NOT GOOD . . . GROUND . . . Happy thoughts . . . kittens . . . chocolate . . . baby mice . . . family . . . friends . . . family . . . favorite pillow . . . friends . . . favorite pillow . . . North . . . Ombric . . . MOON . . . Bunnymund . . . North . . . Nightlight . . . NIGHTLIGHT! NIGHTLIGHT! NIGHTLIGHT! SAVE ME!!!

  Then, as she screamed and thought her life was ended, her chin came into contact with the cobblestone courtyard, and she suddenly stopped falling. Nightlight had caught her left foot.

  He was floating.

  So now Katherine was as well. Or almost. Her chin nicked against a cobblestone, but the rest of her was held aloft. For a moment she was speechless. And when she did try to talk, she found it difficult. There was something small and hard in her mouth, like a pebble. She instinctively spit it onto the ground beneath her. Out bounced not a pebble but . . . a tooth! Her tooth. Her last baby tooth.

  And before she could even say “ouch,” chimes rang out as every bell in the Lunar Lamadary began to toll. And suddenly the entire troop of Lamas and the Yetis were surrounding her and Nightlight. They were chanting and bowing and bowing and chanting.

  “Most auspicious,” said the Grand High Lama.

  “A tooth . . . ,” said another.

  “ . . . of a child . . . ,” said a taller one.

  “ . . . of a Guardian child . . . ,” said a roundish one.

  “A lost tooth . . . ,” said the shortest one.

  “The TOOTH . . . ,” said the Grand High Lama with a touch of awe, “ . . . OF DESTINY!”

  Katherine, Nightlight, and the bond of the lost tooth

  Then they started up bowing and chanting again. Nightlight gently lowered Katherine to the ground, then helped her up, and together they stood, baffled. But even more baffling to Katherine was the strange look on Nightlight’s face. He was trying to hide it. But he didn’t know how. He was so confused by all that was happening and how close he’d come to losing Katherine. She was growing up. Nightlight’s worst fear—his only fear—was coming true. He did not understand growing up. He did not know if he could grow up. And he did not want to be left behind if she did. But he had saved her, and as she placed her finger in the empty spot where her tooth had been, he knew that everything would be different. But there was only one thing he could do—smile at the gap in her grin.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  A Teasing Tale of Teeth and Terror

  IT TOOK NORTH, OMBRIC, and Bunnymund a few minutes to shift gears from planning a new Golden Age to understanding the importance of Katherine’s lost tooth.

  They had been gathered in conference in the Lamadary library when the Lunar Lamas filled the chamber, presenting Katherine and her tooth with great pomp and circumstance, proclaiming it “a lost tooth of destiny.”

  Bunnymund was particularly vexed by the interruption. “If Katherine is unharmed, then what is all this fuss about a tooth?” he asked, one ear twitching. “It isn’t actually lost. She holds it in her hand, and now she’ll grow another one. It’s all very natural and, frankly, rather ordinary. It’s not like she lost a chocolate truffled egg or anything.”

  Then the Grand High Lama described Katherine’s fall and hairbreadth rescue.

  Bunnymund felt a twinge of shame. He didn’t mean to discount Katherine’s terrifying accident. But still, a tooth was just a tooth.

  The Lamas pressed on.

  “We Lamas do not have baby teeth to lose,” explained the Grand High Lama.

  “At least, not since before recorded time,” added the shortest Lama.

  “And we’ve never had a child at the Lamadary . . . ,” said the tallest Lama.

  “ . . . who’s lost a child’s tooth,” said the least ancient Lama.

  “So we’ve never been visited by Her Most Royal Highness,” stressed the Grand High Lama.

  The mention of a “Most Royal Highness” piqued everyone else’s collective interest.

  “Her Most Royal Highness who?” asked North, certain that if this personage dwelled on this continent, he’d likely stolen something from her in his crime-filled younger years. Ombric leaned forward, also eager to hear the Lamas’ answer.

  The Grand High Lama actually looked shocked by their ignorance. “Why, Her Most Royal Highness, Queen Toothiana, gatherer and protector of children’s lost teeth!”

  Well, that raised eyebrows from every one of them. Everyone except Bunnymund.

  “Oh, her,” he said dismissively. “She dislikes chocolate. She claims it’s bad for children’s teeth.” He sniffed. “For confectionery’s sake, they all fall out, anyway.”

  But Ombric, North, and especially Katherine wanted to know more. “I’ve read something about her once, I believe—” Ombric was saying, trying to remember, when a quiet cough interrupted him.

  They all turned. Mr. Qwerty was standing on one of the library’s Moon-shaped tables.

  “Mr. Qwerty knows something,” Katherine said.

  The bookworm bowed and told them, “The story of the Queen of Toothiana lies in volume six of Curious Unexplainables of the East.”

  “Of course! I should have remembered that myself,” Ombric said, nodding. “Mr. Qwerty, please enlighten us.”

  The Guardians sat around the table while Mr. Qwerty began his tale.

  “To know the story of Queen Toothiana,” he said, “you must first hear the tale of the maharaja, his slave Haroom, and the Sisters of Flight.”

  “Sisters of Flight?” North interrupted.

  “Sisters of Flight,” Mr. Qwerty repeated patiently. The image of a beautiful winged woman appea
red on one of Mr. Qwerty’s pages. She was human-size, with long, willowy arms and legs and a heart-shaped face. But her wings were magnificent, and she held a bow and arrow of extraordinary design.

  A Sister of Flight

  “Can she really fly?” Katherine asked in awe.

  “Please, allow me to tell the tale,” Mr. Qwerty said. “The Sisters of Flight were an immortal race of winged women who ruled the city of Punjam Hy Loo, which sits atop the steepest mountain in the mysterious lands of the Farthest East. An army of noble elephants stood guard at the base of the mountain. No humans were allowed to enter, for the mountain’s jungle was a haven for the beasts of the wild—a place where they could be safe from men and their foolishness.”

  Bunnymund’s nose twitched. “Men are certainly full of that,” he agreed.

  North’s nostrils flared, ready to argue with the Pooka, but Mr. Qwerty quietly continued.

  “Toothiana’s father was a human by the name of Haroom. He had been sold at birth into slavery as a companion for a young Indian maharaja. Despite being slave and master, the maharaja and Haroom became great friends. But the maharaja was a silly, vain boy who had his every wish and whim granted. Yet this did not make him happy, for he always wanted more.

  Haroom, the slave with the heart of a prince

  “Haroom, who had nothing, wanted nothing and so was very content. Secretly, the maharaja admired his friend for this. For his part, Haroom admired the maharaja for knowing what he wanted—and getting it.”

  Katherine scooted closer to Mr. Qwerty, peeking at the images of Haroom and the maharaja that now appeared on his pages. How had a slave become the father of a queen?