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Jack emerged from within himself in a forest, the humming of Rin’s possession having ceased for the time being. He glanced about, trying to figure out where exactly he was. The pain of losing his friends’ support hit him then. His chest felt compressed and his innards felt like they were twisting from the loss. He hadn’t expected that from them. He hadn’t expected such rejection. It was truly agonizing. He felt like his was in Antarctica all over again, only this time Pitch Black wasn’t there trying to talk him into a deal.
The idea of losing Pitch too was just as torturous. His guts twisted more as he thought of what might be happening to him at this very moment. Were these creatures anything like the monkey men? Would they hold Pitch down and bloody him beyond recognition? Would he end up comatose for days like Jack had?
Jack doubled over, wrapping his arms around his waist at the very thought of what had happened. The phantom restraints on his wrists reminded him less of the attack and more of Pitch now, but that only succeeded in making him more desperate to find his partner. At that moment, what the others thought of him didn’t really matter. What mattered was finding his Boogeyman. The Guardians he’d deal with later.
He rolled up his sleeve, tracing the raised, tingling gray skin with his fingers. He closed his eyes, and the humming at the back of his head started up again. He heard the voice, the voice of Rin. “So we’re working together on this?” Rin asked.
“I don’t think we have any other options.” Jack sighed. “Do you know where he is?”
“Not exactly.”
“You know he’s alive, but you don’t know how to find him?” Jack tried not to sound panicked, but what was the point? Rin was part of him. He would know regardless.
Rin chuckled. “I don’t have an exact location, there, Mr. Perfection. But I can sense him. I did spend centuries swimming around in his body, you know.”
Jack knew Rin purposefully worded that to make him uncomfortable. “You’ve gotta have a stronger motivation than just not wanting to lose your only acquaintance. Pitch borders on tolerating and despising you.”
There was silence as the humming quieted. Jack worried that he’d driven Rin to abstain from helping. He was reassured when Rin spoke again, “It’s simple, really. Whether the two of you like it or not, I’m technically yours. I belong to both of you in some way. If one of you dies, so do I. Because I’m inhabiting your body, your death is my death. But even though I’m inside you,” Jack flinched at those words, “Pitch owns me. He can control me at any time—.”
“And yet he doesn’t—.”
“Because of you, dipshit! He would never do anything to hurt you!” Rin’s last words were bitter. Then he resumed his explanation. “But his death also means my death, for the simple fact that I was tied to him for so long that I became a part of him.”
“And if you stay inside me?”
“The same will happen.” Rin was quiet again. Then he piped up within Jack, suddenly terrifyingly chipper. “Isn’t this all so very exciting? I’ve been dying to get out and moving!”
“Poor choice of words, man.”
“Thank you.”
“What?” Jack was confused at the sudden show of gratitude.
“You called me a man and not a thing. Thank you.”
Jack felt sad that something so simple could make Rin seem a little more relatable. If he thought about it for long, though, he could find several things that he and Rin had in common. The fear of being left alone, for example. Rin’s was just a little fiercer than Jack’s was, now. And this realization didn’t make it any easier to resist trusting the very same personality that had decided it would be fun to cut Jack’s body open. “So if Pitch can control you, why can’t he remove you? I mean, he saved me from black sand—.”
“Black sand and shadows are very different. There’s a chance that removing me from you could kill you. Of course, the tall, gray bastard wouldn’t have that.” He sounded so hostile when he spoke of Pitch’s feelings for Jack that Jack attributed it to jealousy. That really was the only explanation he could come up with. “Now let’s get down to business.”
“There’s something I never thought I’d hear from you.”
“The sooner we find Pitch, the sooner I get to kill some people.”
Jack looked about warily, as if afraid someone might hear. It was a silly gesture, given he was completely alone. “You think I’m going to just let you murder people while I just sit back and watch?”
“Dear, dear Jack. Sweet Jack. Adorable, innocent, little Jack—.”
“This can’t be good.”
“You haven’t even begun to unleash my wrath upon the world. Unfortunately, for that to happen, I would need your verbal permission.”
Jack thought long and hard about what Rin was telling him. He could give Rin complete control of his body. Rin could go from a small-scale possession to a full-on one and all it took was Jack’s permission. Jack wasn’t willing to truly harm anyone. Rin had more than proved that he was.
Jack gripped his staff in hand. He knew Rin’s ice was stronger. Was Rin? More importantly, would Rin let Jack have his body back when he was done . . . doing whatever it was he would do?
“I’ll tell you what,” Jack said, “if things get sour, I’ll consider that.”
“Ooo, but you and I both know things will get sour.”
“Don’t count on it. I won’t do that unless we’re in serious danger. I can’t afford to give my body completely to you.”
“Oh baby. You just made my day with that statement!”
“Shut up. Let’s find Pitch before he really does get killed.”
“Is your body read?”
“Seriously Rin?”
“You don’t understand. I had to say it.” Rin chuckled again. “Now follow my lead.”
And then, Jack’s arm was under Rin’s control as he pointed Jack onto their path.
Light. Pure sunlight. Pitch had forgotten how terrible it felt on his skin. He didn’t dare open his eyes. He didn’t dare move. He just stayed put, surrounded by sunlight. He couldn’t feel a single shadow, or else he would be fighting for his freedom. Despite the number it had taken to capture him, he would fight. From what he could tell, the light they used as his prison cell was being reflected off many surfaces onto him. They had to be underground, or at the very least somewhere dark enough to warrant such ancient contraptions. But the sun had to set at some point.
His wrists were shackled. His side bore marks where the creatures had dug their claws into him while dragging him from his lair. The thought of such a humiliating display made him want to move and fight, but he was pinned in one spot by the burning sun. And it wasn’t like the claw marks were his only injuries. He was positive that they weren’t quite done roughing him up yet. These weren’t just brutes, though. He knew that much. They weren’t going to make his death quick and easy. They liked pain as much as he did, but they were willing to elongate it more than he thought reasonable.
The pain in his side made him think of Jack. The thought of Jack’s cold hands soothing such injuries made his situation a little more bearable as well as more desperate. His captors hadn’t said a word to him yet, but surely they knew of the boy. No doubt they knew all about the Guardians and would attack them. But only one Guardian mattered to him, and Pitch prayed the boy wasn’t rash enough to come after him. Prayer. That was something he hadn’t done in a very long time.
His lids tightened at the thought as he fought the sensation to look around. He had to rest, had to appear weak. He had to keep up this façade of vulnerability long enough to warrant their removing him from the light. But what if they didn’t?
What if Jack did come?
Fear was a luxury Pitch Black couldn’t afford to have himself. That didn’t mean it wasn’t there, however. At that moment, he feared the loyalty of the winter spirit to whom he’d grown attached. I can handle this, Jack, he thought to himself. Don’t come. Whatever you do, don’t come for me. I can’t always protect us both.
Those last thoughts triggered enough memories in him that he had to grit his teeth against his fear and agony. He cursed his feelings. He cursed them for making him pathetic and dependent on something as uncontrollable as another spirit. But he wasn’t quite sure if he regretted them. In other such situations, he certainly had. But Jack had always been different.
Don’t come for me. I can’t always protect us both.
North rummaged around in his sleigh, grumbling to himself. He, Sandy, and Tooth still hadn’t left Burgess, though Bunny had returned to his work in the Warren. Tooth watched him anxiously.
“North, what are you doing?”
“What we should’ve done as soon as Jack left,” he said without looking up. He continued searching, lifting up the seats. Tooth hadn’t realized the sleigh’s seats doubled as trunks. “We are going after him.”
Sandy stood beside where Tooth was hovering, symbols flashing above his head. He was asking if they were leaving without Bunny.
“Sandy wants to know if Bunny is part of this plan,” Tooth asked for Sandy, because there was no way North had looked up long enough to catch the Sandman’s question.
“He will come on his own. He’s upset, but he’s not vindictive.”
Tooth wanted to believe that. “Well, if we’re following Jack, what are you doing now?”
North stood up then, tossing something to her. “Catch!”
She flew forward, catching and crushing the items to her chest before she realized what is was she was holding. “How did you . . . ?” she mused, glancing over the curved, leather scabbards and jeweled hilts of two swords. Her swords. Her scimitars that she’d lost after the Great War. The war against Pitch Black that had taken place centuries ago, when the Guardians were greater in number and the Man in the Moon was more active as a leader. “How, North?”
“Been working on them for some time. Figured you should be prepared if a situation like this should ever arise.” He looked up, as if he was just remembering something. “Although, I never thought this situation would ever come to be.”
None of them had, but she couldn’t deny that this was a battle she wasn’t willing to enter into unarmed. And North had made almost exact replicas of her swords. She undid the belt that bound the two scabbards together and buckled them around her waist. They were light, and though it had been hundreds of years it still felt right to have a weapon on each hip. Once they were comfortably in place she flew over to North and hugged him. His arms almost completely swallowed her before she pulled back and placed a light kiss on his cheek. She smiled at the blush. Moments like this reminded her of how scared she’d been when they’d first met. He’d been the first person she’d trusted since she’d lost her family, and he somehow continued to amaze her with his kindness. “Let’s find him.”
At that, Sandy and Tooth got in the sleigh with North and set off after Jack.
Rin had directed Jack to a cave somewhere in South America. His arm had long since grown used to Rin’s manipulation of it, and it hardly burned anymore. The feeling of Rin’s control had soon become a numbing sensation, like his arm had fallen asleep. “Why is it always a cave?” Rin asked. “Can’t sketchy kidnappers choose a better, less obvious hideout than a cave?”
Jack shook his head, the thought only bringing back memories of Pitch. Odd, that in order to save Pitch he had to actively tell himself not to think of him. He simply didn’t want to imagine what was being done to him.
He gave the perpetrators a little credit, however, for choosing a cave that tunneled beneath a pyramid. The thought of pyramids in South America still seemed strange to him, but mostly because humans tended to focus more on Egyptian pyramids. He stayed in the shadows as he proceeded into the earth, hoping that whatever creature had taken Pitch didn’t expect company. Surprise was his greatest ally in this mission.
The humming that was Rin’s presence made it hard for him to hear, though. It distracted him in ways that made him more likely to slip and mess up somehow. Moving quietly was nearly impossible if his mind wasn’t clear as well.
“Pipe down a bit, man,” Jack whispered to Rin.
“I can’t, I’m excited!” he responded a little too enthusiastically.
“Well, you’re going to get us killed if you keep distracting me.”
“You’re not much fun for the Guardian of Fun.”
The humming died down, but Rin’s words once again made him think of Pitch. Pitch had told him almost the exact same thing once.
He gathered his thoughts, focusing on keeping his steps small and quiet. He rounded corners, training his eyes and growing accustomed to darkness. Yet another thing that reminded him of Pitch. Jack had to find him.
“What have we here?” a voice murmured in the shadows behind him. Jack didn’t recognize the voice. It was shrill, and each syllable had made his spine tingle. Jack stilled, not daring to turn around or search for the voice. Just from the sound of it, he really didn’t want to see its origin.
“I know this one’s face. The winter spirit the monkeys almost did away with,” another spoke from in front of him, its voice deeper and yet still shrill enough to send tremors of fear through Jack. They knew he was there. He hadn’t even made a sound and yet they’d known he was there.
“A poor choice of minion, if you ask me. He doesn’t even look decently scarred from the experience,” the first said. If they only knew.
It was then that one of them grabbed his wrists and pulled him backwards, the other yanking his staff from his grip. Panic rushed through him, but only briefly. He trembled, but he had his wits about him. That alone was a comfort in his mind, an improvement upon what had happened the last time he’d been attacked. He shoved aside those thoughts. He couldn’t afford to lose focus. He could tremble. He could feel the fear. He could endure all of that, but he could not succumb to it. Working with Pitch to best his phobia had taught him that much.
The one that had grabbed him examined the gray on his arm, which Jack had left exposed in order for Rin to have an easier time contacting him. The Guardian could feel its cool breath on his neck, and that did more to frighten him than the loose grip on his arms at this point. “Oh, but this one is very interesting. It has been marked by the dark one with the shadows.”
“Should we reunite him with his friend?”
Jack’s eyes widened as he finally caught a glimpse of these creatures. They were completely shrouded in dark cloth, no parts of their bodies visible save for their hands. Their hands . . . weren’t hands at all. They were nothing but bone. He looked up as he was met with round red eyes and what looked like a beak mask jutting out of a cowl. Jack wanted to scream, but it got lodged in his throat. He’d never seen these creatures before, but there was something terrifyingly familiar about the way they made him feel.
All this time, he’d been idiotic enough to think that the Nightmare King was the only manipulator of fear. As loneliness crept into his veins and awakened Rin’s humming, he knew he couldn’t have been more wrong.