The Guardians

by William Joyce

  The Monkey King looked back at her with a gloat of self-importance.

  Toothiana’s eyes narrowed; her anger felt venomous. She thought about all of her years on the run. About her parents’ deaths. Every sorrow of her life had been caused by this pathetic monkey.

  He tried to avert her gaze, but Toothiana grabbed him by the neck again and forced him to look at her. “How?” she demanded. “How did the jungle law spare you?”

  The Monkey King glared at her, his eyes matching her own in the fury they contained. “The tigers tore at me. The serpents bit me. Every creature gave me wounds, but I would not die, for I had to destroy . . . YOU!”

  “My father saved you,” said Toothiana.

  The Monkey King glanced away, drawing in a shaky breath.

  Toothiana wondered if there was anything about this monkey worth sparing. Her father had saved him once, and he had been repaid with angry mobs and an early death. Did this monkey maharaja have even a shred of his childlike goodness left? There was only one way to know for sure. With an angry cry, Toothiana pried open the Monkey King’s mouth.

  “No baby teeth!” she shouted. “You die.”

  The monkey yowled, wrenching his jaw from her hands.

  Toothiana swung her sword to strike a deadly blow when North bounded across the room and grabbed her wrist.

  “No!” he yelled. “We need the creature. He can help us rescue our friend.”

  She scoffed at him. This monkey would never help anyone but himself. She lowered her sword.

  “I’ll leave,” she said. “For Punjam Hy Loo. I’ll get the ruby box and your girl.”

  “Pitch—he’s crueler and more devious than you’d ever imagine,” North warned. “You can’t go alone.”

  “We’ll come with you,” Ombric implored. “Together our power is mighty.”

  Toothiana scoffed again. “This Pitch scares me not at all.” With that, she leaped onto the windowsill and prepared to spring into the air. But as she spread her wings, she listed to the left. Her right wing, her beautiful, iridescent right wing, hung limp.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Nightlight Sees a Woman of Mystery

  KATHERINE TRAPPED AND ALONE with the Nightmare King was the worst thing Nightlight could possibly imagine.

  For a new fear gripped him, one that he could not describe even to himself, for it was a feeling beyond his own understanding. But he knew that Katherine longed for a father’s love and that Pitch had lost a daughter. Could this be a dangerous thing for his friend? He thought of what he’d seen in the Dream Tear and shook his head.

  As he sat at the tower top, he looked up to the Moon for reassurance, but it was blocked by dense, fast-moving clouds. There was a strange wind blowing, and Nightlight couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being watched; even that his thoughts were somehow overheard. He’d had this feeling before. It was only when he was alone, and it did not seem threatening—but it was strange. He sometimes thought he saw a face—a woman’s face, for just an instant—in the shapes of the clouds or in a swirl of leaves that blew past him or even in a mist of falling snowflakes. He never saw it clearly, and he wondered if it was just his daydreaming ways that made him think he even glimpsed this woman, but this time he looked about, trying to see if she was really there. He knew he felt something. He knew it felt tied somehow to Katherine and Pitch. He let his thoughts reach out, as they could with Katherine, but there was no response. Just a vague feeling that someone, not unfriendly, was watching and waiting.

  Nightlight paced about nervously. He needed to calm down, he needed a moment of peace, for his mind was not ready for all these strange feelings and grown-up thoughts. He didn’t know what to do. How could he help Katherine? Should he fly pell-mell into the unknown and try to save her on his own? He was brave and clever enough—but this time he felt that it would take more than he could manage. He thought of the Bird Lady, Toothiana, this queen with a mother’s heart and a warrior’s ways—maybe she would know the trick of saving Katherine. But her wing was hurting and she could not fly.

  Then he thought of Kailash. The Snow Goose rarely slept without Katherine by her side, but on this night she had stayed in her old nest, among the Snow Geese she hadn’t seen in so very long. Kailash loved Katherine as much as he did. Kailash! Suddenly Nightlight had an idea that was both childish and knowing.

  The children of Santoff Claussen huddled with Kailash in the nesting cave. The terrible news of Katherine’s abduction had reached every corner of the Lamadary.

  When Nightlight arrived at the cave, he found Tall William doing his best to appear brave and strong while Sascha and Petter readied a saddle. The children had decided to try and save Katherine themselves while riding Kailash. Nightlight knew better than to laugh or scold them for attempting this impossible mission.

  He reached over to Kailash and gently stroked her feathers. She gave a low, woeful honk, then rested her head on Nightlight’s slender shoulder.

  He knew his idea would work. He gathered the geese and the children together.

  And so began a strange parade—Nightlight, followed by a dozen or so children and a flock of Giant Snow Geese, made their way through the Lamadary, past Yetis who were sharpening weapons in preparation for a great battle, past Lunar Lamas who were thumbing through their ancient books looking for clues that might help Katherine, and past the villagers from Santoff Claussen, who were standing about in worried clumps, sharing ideas and comforts. They didn’t stop, not even to answer Old William’s question about where they were going, until they reached Katherine’s room.

  They found Queen Toothiana there. Her back was toward them—one of her iridescent wings dangled limply.

  North was asking her in a gentle yet urgent voice, “And why in the world would Pitch come after you?”

  Toothiana answered; her voice had a low cooing quality. “When I’d left the Monkey King, I flew up to Punjam Hy Loo. I found my mother’s sisters, the Sisters of Flight. They had been waiting for me! But as they greeted me, they seemed so very sad. They asked of my mother. When I told them of her death, their leader sighed. ‘We felt it, we thought it, now we know it to be true,’ she told me.” Toothiana’s own eyes filled with tears, but she continued.

  “The sisters formed a circle around the flying elephant, and one by one—right in front of me!—they turned into wood, like carved statues. Branches began to grow from them, branches that weaved themselves together like a giant basket. And as the last sister began to stiffen and change, she said to me, ‘If one of us dies, we all die; you are queen here now. You must tend the elephant. He will protect all the memories of us, the memories of everything.’ ” Toothiana’s one strong wing flapped ever more quickly.

  “The elephant never forgets,” Toothiana told them again. “It is he who touched the fabled Magic Tooth my parents bequeathed me. It is he who saw the memories that dwelled inside.”

  “But whose tooth is it?” asked Ombric in a hushed tone.

  “The one who lives in the Moon,” she answered.

  The Lunar Lamas all murmured at once with excitement. “The tooth of the Man in the Moon!”

  “Astounding!” said Ombric. “Toothiana has one of the five relics.”

  A mini Toothiana in repose

  North needed to know more. “But what power does it bestow, Your Highness?”

  “With it I can see the memories within the teeth. And once, when I was caged by this royal primate,” she said, pointing her sword at the Monkey King, who was now bound by heavy shackles and chains, “I asked it to help me. It was then that I became more than I am. That is when there was more of me.”

  As if to explain better, the six mini-versions of Toothiana fluttered down from their perches in the candelabra that hung from the ceiling. They landed on Toothiana’s shoulders, three on each side, and bowed.

  Ombric pulled at his beard, thinking. This he had never seen. “Pitch could make much mischief if he were able to use that relic—maybe even harness the po
wer of the flying elephant,” he told them uneasily.

  Nightlight felt a cold chill. Sascha, standing in the doorway beside him, couldn’t help herself. She gasped, and Toothiana and the others spun around. The queen was even grander than the children had imagined. Her wings—they were magnificent—the most beautiful shades of blues and greens. Her eyes were as bright as a bird’s, and her headdress was as glorious as any peacock’s. And she was covered in a layer of tiny green and blue feathers that caught the light like prisms and filled the room with tiny reflected rainbows.

  As the children stood, staring in awe, Kailash and one of the other Snow Geese stepped forward, honking. Kailash went on for quite some time. Toothiana’s expression lit up when she learned that they could fix her wing, for she was, of course, fluent in all the bird languages, Snow Goose being a particular favorite.

  Ombric placed a hand on North’s arm. “Come, it’s time to leave the queen to her helpers,” he told him. “She’s suffered a terrible injury and needs time to recover.”

  “We must rescue Katherine now!” said North. “Every second counts.”

  Bunnymund shook his head. He, too, was nearly desperate with worry about Katherine, but he would never let his emotions take over. Why, that would make him practically human. “I’ll dig a tunnel to wherever we need to go, but first it would be most advantageous to know what to expect when we get there, and whether or not chocolate eggs will be required.”

  North had been in too many battles in his young life to ignore the sense in Bunnymund’s words. He reluctantly agreed, but that didn’t mean he was finished questioning the monkey. He grabbed him by the arm and dragged him toward the door, followed by Ombric and Bunnymund. “We’ll be back,” he called to Toothiana.

  The Snow Geese, now cooing, began repairing the queen’s damaged wing. Nightlight and the children stayed out of the way, watching the miraculous work of the geese. With unimaginable delicacy, they twined and smoothed each strand of Toothiana’s crumpled feathers, layer after layer after layer. And slowly, the wing began to look as good as new.

  The queen gave the injured wing a slight flutter. “Still hurts,” she said, “but it is much better.” Then she cocked her head from side to side, eyeing the children. “You should be asleep.”

  William the Absolute Youngest shook his head. “We’re worried about our friend,” he said.

  Toothiana nodded, giving her repaired wing another careful flutter. She perched on the edge of Katherine’s bed, turning her full attention to the children. Her very presence soothed them, just as it did the sleeping children she visited every night.

  The youngest William now ventured a small smile. “We live in Santoff Claussen,” he told her.

  “It’s the best village in the whole world,” Sascha added. Then she gave a shiver. “Except for when the Nightmare King comes to visit.”

  The children began to tell Toothiana all about their magical village and about the first time that Pitch’s Fearlings had attacked them in the forest. “It was Katherine—She was the bravest, and she saved us,” Tall William said.

  “And that’s when we first saw Nightlight!” his youngest brother added.

  Petter, Fog, and the others acted out the various battles they’d seen.

  Toothiana seemed properly impressed by their derring-do, and so the youngest William ventured to ask for a favor: “Can you—would you—make a wish on my next lost tooth? I don’t have any loose ones right now, but you can pull one if you want.” He opened his mouth as wide as he could so she could easily choose the best tooth.

  “I needn’t pull your tooth, but,” Toothiana said, trying not to laugh, “name your wish.”

  “I wish for Katherine to come back to us, safe and sound,” said William the Absolute Youngest.

  “That’s my wish too!” Sascha added.

  “And mine,” Petter said.

  And one by one, the children asked for the same wish: the safe return of Katherine.

  Toothiana listened carefully, then told them, “I will try.”

  Finally, William the Absolute Youngest—who may just have been William the Wisest—suggested they recite Ombric’s first lesson.

  And so, with Toothiana taking Katherine’s place in their circle, the children joined hands and recited: “I believe. I believe. I believe.”

  But Nightlight did not join them. He stood alone. His face was blank and expressionless. Then full of fear.

  North burst into the room, pressing through the door just ahead of Ombric and Bunnymund. “The monkey finally talked!” he said.

  “We know his plan!” said Ombric.

  “To Punjam Hy Loo?” Toothiana asked.

  “And right speedily,” replied Bunnymund.

  Toothiana sprang to her feet, fluttered her wings, and brandished her swords. “Let’s fly.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  To Be Brave . . .

  AN OMINOUS WIND BEGAN to blow in Punjam Hy Loo. Pitch looked down at Katherine. She was determined not to look surprised to see him.

  “Thought I was done for, didn’t you?” he asked in a voice icy with scorn. “No, my dear. It’s your so-called Guardians who will be destroyed.”

  Katherine knew that the Nightmare King fed on fear—particularly the fear of children—and so she steeled herself to meet his cold, dark eyes with her own. She reminded herself of when last they’d met, when she’d held up the locket-size picture of his long-lost daughter. One look at it had made Pitch scream in agony. It had defeated him. Caused him and his Fearling army to vanish. And his scream had haunted Katherine ever since. She even felt a vague sort of pity for him. That pity gave her courage. And she was sure that Nightlight, North, and the others would soon fly to her rescue.

  “The Guardians battled you in the Himalayas and at the center of the Earth,” she said evenly, “and each time, we won the day.”

  Pitch’s expression betrayed little. He slid closer to her, his dark cape covering so much of him that it was impossible to tell if he actually walked or if he floated. One thing was apparent: He kept his right hand, the hand that had become flesh, hidden under the cape, and his entire right side seemed stiff, as if underneath the cape he hid a terrible wound.

  He stood perfectly still. Katherine looked to where his hand was hidden and wondered about the locket. Did he have it still?

  Pitch sensed her thoughts. “You preyed on my weakness, and that was very clever.” He brought his face close to hers. “But soon I’ll be rid of any weakness. Your new Golden Age,” he added, his voice becoming a calm whisper, “will become the Age of Nightmares!”

  The monkeys began to screech in unison. They pounded their paws against the ancient blocks of stone they sat upon. One of them swung, paw over paw, down from the top of the ruins and landed in front of Pitch.

  “Where is your king?” Pitch asked blankly. The monkey muttered a reply.

  “Left behind?” said Pitch with a hint of bemusement. “Betrayed by his own. All the better! Do you have the relic?”

  The animal held up a pouch. From within this small sack there came a bright red glow, emanating from the ruby box snatched from Queen Toothiana!

  Katherine recognized that glow—it was the same glow she’d seen coming from the orb of North’s sword and on Bunnymund’s egg-tipped staff . . . It was the glow of an ancient Lunar relic! She immediately averted her gaze, not wanting to arouse Pitch’s suspicions as to the box’s importance. But, she realized, this must be what gave Queen Toothiana whatever powers she possessed. Was this what Pitch was after?

  Hoping to distract him, she blurted out, “You’ll fail. You always do.”

  Pitch drew himself up, growing ever taller until he towered above her, and then he leaned over, his icy breath in her face. The air suddenly felt as cold as Siberia in winter.

  Too late, Katherine realized her mistake. She had insulted Pitch’s intelligence. Drat! She should have let him keep talking, let him talk all night, give her friends the time they needed to get to her.


  “But what do I know,” Katherine stammered, trying to placate him. “You’re the Nightmare King and I’m just a girl.”

  Pitch permitted himself a small smile. “That’s exactly right. The Man in the Moon’s toys are of some use to me. But the prize I seek is of greater value—much greater. With it I can make an undefeatable army.”

  “What prize is that?” Katherine asked, using her sweetest, most innocent voice.

  Pitch stared at her but said no more.

  Katherine had to keep him talking, she had to! She had to trick him into revealing his plan—it was vital. She racked her brain for a compliment that he might believe, a compliment that would make him want to tell all—just so that he could boast.

  “You’ve been brilliant at coming up with ways to thwart us—like sneaking into North’s djinni or creating armor from the Earth’s core,” she said. “Why, I can’t begin to imagine how astounding and dreadful this new prize will be.”

  Then she held her breath, waiting, while Pitch considered her words.

  His eyes lit up. Katherine’s heart pounded. Pitch’s need to boast would win out over his need for caution!

  She did not realize was that her lost tooth, which she held tightly in her hand, had begun to glow almost as brightly as the ruby-carved box.

  Before she knew what had happened, the tooth was harshly snatched from her hand. A monkey soldier shuffled away from her, clutching the tooth. He tossed it to Pitch, who caught it easily with his left hand. He wrapped his fist around the tooth and pressed it against his forehead. His eyes closed, and he began to chuckle with diabolical glee. He was reading her tooth’s memories!

  “Stop, stop!” Katherine cried. “Those are my memories!” But a pair of monkeys sprang upon her, holding her tight, keeping her from attacking Pitch. His eyes stayed shut as if sleeping, and he saw every memory of hers he needed.

  When at last he opened his hand again, the tooth was black and rotted.