The sound of children laughing woke Jack. He'd fallen asleep in one of the tall pine trees that lined Jamie's street in Burgess while waiting for the kids to get out of school. Jack glanced down to see the kids bounding away from the nearby bus stop, heading toward their respective houses. He jumped off the branch he'd been perched on. Finally. He'd been waiting for hours. "Heya Jamie!"
"Jack!" Jamie spun around so quickly he dropped several schoolbooks from his backpack. He knelt to scoop them up. "I don't think I can play today. It's only Tuesday, and I got a tooooon of homework." He stuffed the last book in, rolling his eyes in exasperation. "Can you give us a Snow Day soon? I know it's only September but..." He glanced at Jack hopefully.
"Hmmm." Jack pulled out the now crumpled and torn schedule he'd written. "It's still kind of early for it, but maybe I can work one in the first week of October." He squinted at the last page of the paper, realizing he hadn't yet thought about anything at all for next month. Not good. He had to at least get through all of Fall.
"What's that?"
"My schedule." Jack tried to sound cheerful. "Now that I'm a Guardian, I have to be responsible. Just like you do!"
"Now you can understand my suffering!" Jamie sighed theatrically. "We're all doomed. Nightmares and evil faeries can't compare to long division."
"So now you're going to plan our snow days in advance?" Pippa had joined them. "Doesn't that kind of take the fun out of it?"
"Naaah. You won't know when I've planned 'em, so you'll still be surprised." Jack grinned, hoping it looked sincere. Yes. Yes it does... But he couldn't let the kids know that. They were the ones who were supposed to have fun. He was just there to help them, right? He suppressed a sigh. Why was this so difficult? It was as if a few dates on paper were completely changing his life. He was still doing the things he enjoyed, only now with a timeline. He wondered if the other Guardians had felt the same way when they first started.
"Ack, mom's calling. I gotta go feed Abby!" Jamie shouldered his backpack, turning toward his house. "Can you come back this weekend maybe? Then we can play more and I won't have all this math homework. Bye, Jack!"
"Yeah, I've got a project to work on too. Sorry, Jack. Gotta go." Pippa waved and ran up her driveway. Jack watched the two retreating children, feeling a familiar knot of loneliness in his stomach. The Burgess kids had their own lives. They had families and schoolwork, and couldn't always be around to play with him. Still, it was so much better than before, when they couldn't see or hear him. Anything was better than being invisible. He was grateful for that, but the loneliness was still there, and it hurt.
Jack summoned the wind, blowing dried red and gold leaves from the trees. He directed them into little haphazard piles for the kids to jump into later. There, now they could have some fun after he left. Evening fell, and bright warm lights appeared in every window as the Autumn air grew chill. Jack took to the sky, soaring over the trees and giving the remaining leaves a gentle coat of frost as he made for his next destination.
He'd decided to return to Ireland, where their last big adventure had occurred. Jack had opted for Dublin, rather than County Roscommon this time. It was just before sunrise when he arrived, and the city was quiet. Jack thought about wandering the grounds of Trinity College, but decided against it. The place was a sort of museum, and that meant gargoyles. He didn't have a very good record with the cranky creatures after their previous escapade, and they apparently kept in touch with their relatives scattered around the world. Jack was probably blacklisted from ever setting foot near a museum again.
He landed on the roof of the O'Connell Street Post Office instead. Come morning Dublin's most well-known street would be crowded with people, locals and tourists alike. Plenty of folks to play tricks on. Jack wandered to the edge of the gray stone edifice, plopping down to let his legs dangle over the side. He was trying to cut down on his usual troublemaking, the sort that landed him on the Naughty List. Still, he was Jack Frost, and it wouldn't be right if he didn't send some unfortunate businessman's neatly organized papers flying or instantly cool down a piping hot cup of coffee. Like Pitch, he did have a reputation to keep up.
Early Fall was a slow time for a snow spirit like Jack. He could only keep to the frozen north for so long without getting bored. Farther south, the weather was still quite warm, and outside of the tundra and mountains he couldn't always make it snow. Even getting frost to last more than a few moments was difficult. At least he could interact with people. He made sure there were always plenty of leaves for jumping in, or that kites always had a cool breeze to soar upon. He ensured the trees changed color properly, and ushered in fog and dew in the early hours of the morning.
As he waited for sunrise, Jack's thoughts turned to the last time he'd been in Ireland. He and the other Guardians had just barely escaped the razor-sharp tusks of the Boar of Ben Bulbain, and Pitch had nearly died in Mab's frozen lair beneath Rathcroghan. Pitch... Jack shook his head. Lately he found himself thinking of the Nightmare King more and more, and it bothered him. He shouldn't be so drawn to the man. Pitch may have been one of the good guys now, relatively speaking, but it didn't change the past. Jack reminded himself that Pitch had tried to hurt him and his friends. He'd almost succeeded. Then Mab appeared, and he'd lost everything. He changed. It was still too early to tell if that change was for good, but Jack was willing to give him a second chance. The Fearlings were gone, and he had someone to protect. The Pitch he knew now wasn't the same as the one who had tried to destroy them. Jack wanted to trust him. Why, he asked himself. Why is he so important to me all of a sudden? Maybe it was because Pitch understood him so well. Because Pitch knew how it felt to be an outcast. Now that he was on the same side, Jack didn't have to feel guilty about relating to the enemy more than his friends.
He wondered what Pitch was doing now. Probably having a better time than he was. The Guardian of Courage could care less about living up to the others' standards, he'd made that much clear. Maybe he was right to do so. Maybe Jack was trying too hard. He was letting this whole schedule thing get to his head. It was wearing him down. The sound of a car driving by below stirred Jack out of his reverie, and the city began to awaken as the sun crept over the horizon.
The morning brightened, and the streets grew crowded. Jack spent the day flitting about the city, chasing the ducks around St. Stephen's Green and blowing the hats off tourists wandering Grafton Street. He realized that once again, he'd scheduled himself right out of the most interesting events. The All-Ireland Hurling Final was the upcoming weekend, and of course he'd scheduled an nice frost for Helsinki at that time. "Uuuhgh." He wanted to crumple the stupid paper into a wad and use it as a hurling ball. This wasn't fun anymore. Everything felt wrong. This wasn't how he worked.
The other Guardians seemed to approve, though. He ran into Toothiana that afternoon, on his way to Beijing. After their battles with Pitch and Mab, the Tooth Fairy had decided to spend more time in the field, and seemed to be loving it. "Jack! It's so great to see you working so hard! You're doing wonderful! Ooh!" Jack didn't have any time to reply as the Guardian of Memory got distracted, zooming off in search of a lost tooth she'd sensed.
Sandy sometimes appeared beside him as he flew in the evenings, smiling and nodding encouragingly. When Jack returned to the North Pole for a brief respite, North appeared briefly to congratulate Jack on his good work, and compliment him on how Fall was progressing so nicely. He reminded Jack of the big Holiday Party at the beginning of December, then disappeared back into his study. The only one Jack didn't see was Bunny, who was busy now with Spring in the southern hemisphere. Everyone seemed to think he was doing a wonderful job now. They finally seemed to think of him as one of their own. So why didn't he feel the same? Why did it feel like everything was less fun, less exciting now?
September was nearly over, and Jack decided to return to Venice before giving the Burgess kids their Snow Day. He needed someone to talk to, someone who would do more than just smile and pat him on the head for being a good little Guardian. That would be Pitch. As the island city came into view, Jack realized that once again he had no idea where the entrance to the underground lair was. He'd tried to memorize the location when he'd left the last time, but the maze of buildings and canals confounded him. It had been somewhere in the lower part of the city, east of the Canal Grande. That was as much as he remembered. He landed atop a building near the Rialto Bridge, one of the landmarks he knew. He tried to get his bearings, but one red-brown roof looked the same as another. At least evening was fast approaching. He wouldn't have to spend the entire day waiting for a chance to meet a Nightmare.
Cheerful voices and delicious scents drifted up from the myriad cafes lining the Canal. Jack wandered to the roof's edge, watching the tourists wandering about below. The city was just as crowded and noisy as he remembered. If only he knew where he was going.
"Looking for someone?" He whirled at the sound of Pitch's silky voice. The Nightmare King prowled smoothly out of the shadows, regarding Jack with some amusement.
"You really need to stop doing that," Jack mumbled, irritated that he'd been surprised yet again. Pitch's only response was a slow blink. Yeah, asking the Nightmare King to stop spooking people was like asking Jack to stop freezing puddles. Jack ran a hand through his snowy hair. "I was just enjoying the Venetian evening." Pitch continued staring silently at him. "I..don't know how to navigate this maze of a city," Jack glared. "I'll get it eventually, it's not like I had a big reason learn my way around before."
"I'm amazed you've kept up the 'responsibility' act this long, Frost." Pitch clasped his hands behind his back. "You're looking a bit worse for the wear."
"It's a bit tiring." Jack forced a grin. "But I'm new to it still. After three hundred years of doing my own thing, I'm not going to just be magically awesome at time management. Though it would be nice if I was..."
"Well, I'm sure the world's weather forecasters are enjoying the relative stability." Pitch smirked. "Since you are here now and obviously don't know how to find my lair, which I assume you were trying to locate, I suppose I should give you a tour of Venice." He melted back into the the shadows until his shining eyes and Cheshire grin were all that remained. "It won't do to have you getting lost every time you decide to show up."
"Hey, maybe I enjoy wandering aimlessly through the streets." Jack wondered if Pitch had been waiting for him, or if he'd just gotten lucky. Perhaps the Nightmares had warned him. At any rate, a tour of the city didn't sound so bad. He actually had very good navigational skills, once he got the lay of the land down. If he learned the landmarks now, chances were he'd be able to get around on his own next time. It also meant he'd have a valid reason to talk to Pitch.
"I'm sure you do. Are you coming, or not?" Pitch's voice came now from below him. Jack saw that he had reappeared on the sidewalk by the water's edge. The frost sprite jumped off the rooftop, landing softly next to him. A few people wandered by, and though they were adults who couldn't see the two Guardians, they seemed nervous as they passed by Pitch. He looked pleased. "They can sense my presence now, but we shouldn't have any trouble with humans seeing us this late in the evening."
"It seems so strange. We need to be believed in, but now that people can see us we can't let ourselves be seen." Jack stared down the pathway after the pedestrians.
"If they could see us all the time, they would become accustomed to our presence. We would become ordinary, and soon vanish from the realm of imagination and faith. It would diminish the power of their belief." Pitch followed his gaze. "So we live on the edge of their perception, just enough to keep them wondering. A delicate balance, indeed. Belief in something that you cannot see is often stronger than that in which you can. Humans are strange like that."
Jack thought about his friends in Burgess. Their light still kept him strong, but it was as Pitch said. They were used to him now. The kids expected to see him and speak to him. He had become a normal part of their lives. He was their friend, and he wouldn't give that up for anything, but it made sense that he couldn't act that way toward just anyone. The Guardians would lose their magic. Was there any part of being a Guardian that wasn't complicated?
"Shall we, then?" Pitch gestured toward a long, low boat that bobbed gently in the water.
"A gondola?" Jack regarded the dark vessel skeptically. Upon closer inspection, he saw that it was created out of the dark dreamsand, and glittered faintly under the canal lights.
"Of course. It's Venice, after all. Though people today use the vaporetti more often. I'm just old-fashioned. Besides, how many cities can you explore by boat?"
Jack glided onto the little vessel, settling on the narrow bow as Pitch maneuvered it away from the pathway. "So, why did you settle here?" Jack gazed up at the tall, clustered buildings. Lights shone in many windows, reflected in the swirling waters. "Shouldn't you be in a graveyard or someplace more iono, spooky?"
"The dead cannot feel fear. That is reserved for the living, and Venice is certainly lively." Pitch guided the gondola expertly through the black water. "I've a certain fondness for the citizens here. Throughout the centuries, they have faced plagues, war, and floods. The city sinks, yet they persevere. Even now, when the acqua alta occurs, they continue with life as usual. Most people would be put off if their streets ended up underwater on a regular basis." His eyes took on a distant look. "I was driven here at the end of the Dark Ages by the Guardians. I suppose you could say it grew on me, and I decided to stay. The coffee's good, too."
"You like coffee? Isn't that kind of an oxymoron or something for someone who deals with dreams?" Jack smiled. He had a hard time imagining Pitch downing expressos.
"I'm not the one who needs to sleep. I will drink as much caffeine as I desire. I just have to keep the Nightmares away from it."
"...What happens if you don't?"
"They explode. At least Sprinkles is smart enough to realize this."
Jack wasn't sure if he should laugh or feel sorry for the creatures. They would probably just re-form anyway. He shouldn't feel so fond of bad dreams, but he liked the equine spirits. They had personalities, unlike Sandy's creations. The little boat traveled onward, and Jack turned his attention to the buildings passing by on either side, elegant and crumbling. He wondered if they were comfortable inside. "Are they all houses?"
"Many are hotels. There's almost more tourists here nowadays than actual residents. It has its benefits, though. They like legends and stories because they're so quaint, even if it makes the locals roll their eyes. Tell them a place is haunted, and they'll believe it. I have fun with tourists, especially at Ca' Dario and Poveglia." He chuckled.
"Tsk, scaring the tourists. That's not nice." Jack feigned horror.
"And yet, they keep coming."
Jack began to feel more relaxed as they traveled. Pitch pointed out various famous locations including the aforementioned haunted house, and Jack committed them to memory. He wasn't much interested in history or architecture, but not many people could claim to have a tour guide who had been around when some of these places had been built. Pitch made it interesting. His voice was hypnotizing, and Jack found he enjoyed listening to it. He trailed a hand in the water, creating little swirls of frost that drifted away from the gondola's side before fading away. He always felt like he was a burden to the other Guardians whenever he showed up at their homes or encountered them in his travels. They were always busy with this or that, and talking with Jack was secondary to whatever task was at hand. Pitch was different.
He wasn't in a hurry. He wasn't trying to paint eggs or build toys while nodding absently at Jack. He listened. It was true that when they had been enemies, he'd tried to lure Jack over to his side, but now they were on the same team. Jack didn't sense any ulterior motive in Pitch's actions this time, but he had to wonder why Pitch was doing it. Was he still lonely, even though he now had Seraphina? The fact that the gondola had been there at the dock seemed to indicate that Pitch had known he would show up. Maybe the Nightmares had alerted him. Whatever the reason, he'd taken time out of his own schedule to show Jack around. Not only that, he seemed to be enjoying it. Jack wasn't used to someone going out of their way to talk to him just because they wanted to. Aside from Jamie, no one did that. They were all too preoccupied. Pitch's voice snapped him out of his thoughts.
"Ah, here we are."
They had traveled south from the Rialto Bridge, sometimes turning from the Canal Grande onto the smaller side waterways, winding their way through the nighttime city. They were back in the main channel now, and a stately white building appeared to their left. This area looked more familiar to Jack; it was where he had landed on his first trip. "I know this place. Piazza San Marco, right?" Jack pointed to the tall clock tower to the sprawling building's left.
"Yes. The white building with the domes is Palazzo Ducale, Doge's Palace. Ages ago it was the home of the Republic's top authority." Pitch flashed an amused sneer. "Now it is a museum where I am sure you and I are unwelcome. You've probably noticed it's also the most easily-visible place in the city." The gondola swept past the grand edifice, turning down a side canal. "And here. Follow this to the corner, then 3,2,1. Third right, second left, first right." Pitch pulled up to a narrow landing. "And follow this path to its end. I take it you won't get lost from now on?" He shot Jack a sideways look.
Jack hopped out of the shimmering boat. "Past the Palace to the corner, 3R,2L,1R. Yeah, I got it." He hadn't realized how close it had been to the Piazza. Well, he had been wandering around a bit before the finding the Nightmare. It was easy to get turned around in the narrow alleys. Jack gazed down the path to the abandoned, greenery-draped building. He wanted to stay here longer. He felt more welcome, more wanted here than he had at the North Pole with its grumbling Yetis and ever-present elves. As much as he loved the action of the workshop, it was almost too much at times. Venice had a different vibe. Jack sighed. He knew it was impossible, though. He had a job to do, and so did Pitch. Besides, Jack didn't want to wear out his welcome. Chances are he'd end up saying or doing something stupid, because he excelled at that. Maybe if he only appeared in small doses Pitch wouldn't get tired of him. He glanced at the other Guardian. Pitch's gold eyes met his, and Jack tried to push the worries from his mind.
"You do realize that whether you are thinking about it or not, I still know what it is you fear," Pitch said quietly.
He did not elaborate, and Jack tried to think of a smart retort. The only thing he managed was "I gotta go. I promised my friends in Burgess a Snow Day." He paused. "But...I enjoyed tonight...Thanks. I needed that."
"You are wearing yourself out, Jack. For what reason, I do not understand. However, your decisions are your own. Remember that." Pitch melted into the shadows, and Jack found himself alone once more. He rubbed the back of his neck . Hadn't Seraphina told him something similar? Did he look so bad that the Pitchiners, of all people, were worrying about him? Jack wandered to the water's edge, peering over to contemplate his own reflection. He might have looked a little tired, but nothing too bad. He'd made it through September in one piece. Only the rest of eternity to go.