PITCH HAD LISTENED TO everything that had been said or thought by Katherine and Jack. For years he had focused his mind on the blood bond with Jack. The boy, that blasted boy, had shown compassion by stopping North’s sword at the end of Bright Night. And ever since, Pitch had used this bond, cultivated it to the point where he could feel and sense Jack’s every emotion. But Jack had been very clever. Yes. Pitch had truly believed that the boy had died in the icy waters of the lake. It wasn’t until Jack began his gallivanting in London that Pitch felt his return. And since then, Jack had been so very careful to keep his plans secret. But now he had purposely let Pitch know everything—that he had completed construction of the dagger and he had understood the full power of such a weapon. And made very sure that Pitch knew he intended to use it.
Pitch’s fury was felt throughout Santoff Claussen. Even Mother Nature was alarmed by the abrupt quaking that emanated from underneath the village. Every creature, human or otherwise, had gathered and were ready to do battle if Pitch attempted to escape. Then the shaking and rumbling stopped as quickly as it had started. The sudden silence was even more frightening. Emily Jane stood on the topmost branch of Big Root and listened intently to the wind and leaves. The Mythosphere was in use. She was astonished by what she heard.
“We are to stand down,” she told the now equally astonished villagers. “We are . . . to let Pitch go.”
“By whose order?” asked the Spirit of the Forest, so agitated she couldn’t keep her feet on the ground.
“Jack Frost himself,” Mother Nature replied. Her bewilderment was profound, but her faith in Jack was stronger, so she continued. “Furthermore, you and I are to rally the fairy nations to escort my father and his armies to a castle in Transylvania.”
“This sounds terribly dangerous,” said the Spirit of the Forest, her eyes glistening. She loved battles, especially when the fairy nations were asked to leave their forests and join in. “The nations of the wee folk will gladly do their part!” she assured Emily Jane. She waved toward the sky; it was already filling with countless leaves, each one guided by troops of Leaf People, the fiercest of all the fairy folk warriors.
Emily Jane hoped that the Spirit and the fairies would keep her father in check, and if she knew what Jack was planning, she did not let on. She was not acting as the daughter of Pitch, but as Mother Nature, who would do whatever was necessary to protect the world and its children.
