Tooth woke up to sunlight on her face.
Stirring slightly, she realised she was in a bed covered with a heavy blanket.
Memories of the night before came back to her as she sat up, rubbing the fading dreamsand from her eyes.
So Sandy was under Candy's spell too and her fairies were out of commission.
That meant no teeth being collected. No teeth meant no magic.
Who knew how much time she had left before she started running out of energy?
She threw the blanket off and tested her hovering. She rose effortlessly from the ground and no feathers fell loose. This made her relax enough to examine her surroundings.
The bedroom was similar to Pitch's with a four poster bed and a stone fireplace that held smouldering coals. There was a dresser with a bowl and pitcher of water and a dusty free standing mirror close by. She took a moment to fix her feathers and splashed her face with the water. Opening the top drawer of the dresser revealed a bunch of towels. She dried her face and moved towards the source of the sunlight.
It was coming from a gap in some luxurious but neglected looking curtains. Unsure of what she would see on the other side, she took a deep breath and threw them open.
Outside the window was a vast valley. Sunlight shone from the horizon and swirling pastel coloured clouds disguised the depth of the valley's basin from sight. A flock of birds soared aloft on the thermals until they too passed out of sight.
Tooth's mouth gaped.
This was impossible. A pleasant surprise but impossible.
She closed the curtains again but left a gap to illuminate the room.
There were no mountains like that anywhere near Burgess and the birds she had seen were Canadian geese!
A dimensional portal of some kind? An aesthetically pleasing illusion to distract from the fact that the lair was underground? Perhaps Pitch had conjured it up as a distraction for himself or to bewilder her. The latter seemed more likely but she decided not to rule any possibility out.
Once, North had commented on how unusual he found Tooth's analytical outlook when she had pestered him about how his sleigh flew. She had been ready to take notes when he had explained the thaumic engine that powered it, a creation of his own design but he had laughed when she had become frustrated with his lackadaisical explanation that he had just 'thrown it together'.
'Is quite, how you say, ironic, to see a fairy with such scientific brain', he had said.
Tooth didn't find it ironic. She may be magic but she still liked knowing how things worked.
Guardian magic ran on belief: lots of belief equalled flight, snowglobes, chocolate eggs and dreamsand.
The lair didn't work in any way that made sense to her.
Even though Pitch's powers were 'asleep', the lair hadn't vanished.
Exits and entrances still disappeared and reappeared at will. It seemed to be constantly falling apart but there were staircases that didn't seem to be supported by anything physical.
And now a magic window to elsewhere.
Bunny had once said 'Fear exists, whether we believe in it or not'. Perhaps that was what was sustaining the lair?
Then again the window wasn't the only surprise.
Tooth was surprised Pitch even had a guest bedroom! Never mind one that looked like it had been designed for Queen Victoria!
She turned away from the window and noticed the pillowcase she had brought from the Tooth Palace sitting on a table beside a fireplace. She undid the drawstring and counted the boxes. All four safe and sound.
That made three impossible things before breakfast. Tooth hoped Lewis Carroll would have been proud.
Pitch was not one to ignore an opportunity to gain the upper hand especially not (to mix metaphors) when he was on the back foot. So why had he saved the teeth?
More importantly, why had he saved her? Because he needed her?
But if he had his teeth now it wouldn't matter if she was here or not.
Tooth picked up the case and retied the string. Flying back to the four poster bed, she knelt down and stuffed the pillowcase beneath the bed.
'Why am I even hiding these?' she thought, 'If he wants them he'll just take them'.
'No reason to make it easy', her far more cynical, business side said, 'We said he could have his own teeth, not theirs'.
Satisfied with the 'hiding place', Tooth straightened and headed for the door. Enough with the mental questions. Time to take action.
She turned the knob and it creaked open.
Unlocked. Good start.
The hallway outside was dark with a faint breeze blowing in her face.
It was eerily quiet and the breeze was rhythmic. Like…breath?!
Two yellow eyes suddenly appeared along with a mouthful of teeth and lunged at her from the darkness.
Tooth jumped involuntarily and kicked off the ground.
She landed on top of the four poster bed, heart hammering and glanced down desperately trying to see what had jumped out at her.
Onyx looked up at her quizzically.
Tooth gave a sigh of relief and fell back.
This was a mistake.
The canvas at the top of the four poster gave way from her weight and she was dumped unceremoniously back onto the bed. Scrambling to her feet, she heard Onyx gave a muffled nicker that definitely indicated amusement.
'Maybe knock next time?' Tooth grumbled.
Onyx snorted and tilted her head towards the door.
Tooth took the signal and followed Onyx out into the lair.

As Tooth followed Onyx down a winding set of stairs, she began to notice reliefs cut into the wall. The darkness had hidden them, making her assume there had been nothing but bare, stone walls all around but now she could see the place had been sculpted and designed. Rough edges had been smoothed out, through (she suspected) magical means. What had seemed to be gaping openings leading to other rooms were actually arches with curving artistic lines. It didn't make any more structurally sound but it was definitely nicer to look at.
Pitch had had a lot of time on his hands. Tooth felt a confusing pang of guilt.
He was obviously used to being alone and had made it clear he didn't want the Guardians around.
But maybe they should have tried harder to recruit him all those years ago. Then maybe Easter, the latest offence, wouldn't have happened.
Tooth shook her head.
Always with the what-ifs and maybes! Focus!

The stairs finally ended in the same cavern that held Pitch's throne and the wire like globe indicating belief around the world. Tooth was dismayed to see a sickly pink colour infecting the United States and lighter patches of it worldwide. She didn't have much time to dwell on it however as a distinctive dragging noise caught her attention. In the centre of the platform, a group of nightmares had formed an orderly queue leading to a pile of teeth.
Tooth identified teeth belonging to a variety of ages as the foremost nightmare walked away and stopped blocking her view.
As she watched, the next nightmare walked up to the pile and opening its mouth, dropped a small collection of teeth on top of the others. As they disturbed the pile, causing some to scatter, two nightmares that had been standing by used shadowy tentacles like brushes to prevent the teeth from escaping.

'You're collecting the teeth for me?' she asked Onyx in hope and bewilderment.

The nightmare nodded and Tooth couldn't help herself.
She threw her arms around Onyx's neck.
The nightmare stopped dead as she gave a small grunt of surprise.
'Thank you so much!' Tooth said, trying desperately to stop threatening tears from spilling over.
Onyx's ears swivelled in confusion.
The fairy's touch was different from her master's. His was always gentle but this was warmer and tickly because of the feathers. It was nice but this was a Guardian. She was supposed to eat Guardians. But this was really nice.
After a few seconds, the fairy seemed to realise her potential breach of etiquette and let go, giving Onyx an apologetic stroke on the nose.
'Sorry. No fraternising with the enemy right?' Tooth joked.
Onyx made a show of tossing her head arrogantly and striding on ahead but was unpleasantly aware of the fading warmth of the fairy's touch.

The oppressive atmosphere that Tooth had always sensed was still present but subdued. Tooth only got a faint shiver up the spine when she concentrated, not the anxious dread in the pit of her stomach that she usually felt. That meant Pitch hadn't used his teeth yet or worse, she'd been wrong and they hadn't helped things.
Either way, she was about to find out.
Onyx had stopped in front of a wooden door and was nodding towards it.
Tooth pushed it open and was greeted with the warm smell of cooking.
Pitch was wearing a black t-shirt, trousers and shoes as he hovered over an old fashioned looking cast iron stove.
Various cupboards lined the walls and a few wooden shelves held some dusty spice bottles with faded labels.
The floor was stone like the walls and a wooden table, easily long enough to sit fifteen people dominated the centre of the room.
Tooth hadn't seen a kitchen like it since the Victorian era: a good time for teeth collection.
It made her feel nostalgic as well as intrigued.
As she entered, Onyx closed the door behind her. The sound made Pitch turn and he waved a spatula in greeting before turning back to his task.

'Wow it's bright in here', Tooth commented.
'Stating the obvious aren't we?' sniped her inner cynic, 'Strictly speaking, you're the powerful one here!
Pitch cast a glance at the sunlight spilling into the room from a window to his right. He made a mental note to move the bag sitting beneath it when he got the chance. It contained the curtains that usually hid the window from sight.

'Couldn't see what I was doing', he explained.

Tooth hovered past him to look out the window.
This one showed a stark snowy landscape. A tall ice pillar curving like a wave with impossible spikes towered above the window. Was that black sand frozen inside it?

'What are these windows?' Tooth asked.

'That one is the fear of being alone', Pitch said, stirring a mixture in a pan, 'The one in your room is the fear of high places. If you like I'll change it for you but I assumed that, being able to fly, it wouldn't bother you'.

'How many of these are there?'

'I've lost count. That one you're looking at is fairly new'.

'What stops people from seeing inside the lair? A window works both ways'.

'They're not in very hospitable places', Pitch shrugged, 'That one is located in Antarctica for example. By the way just to warn you, there is one that depicts the fear of sharks'.

Tooth grinned nervously and sat down at the table.

'So', she began, 'You haven't used the teeth?'

'The teeth weren't there', was the blunt response.

'Sandy must have taken them' Tooth groaned, slapping her forehead, 'He was the only other person who knew where I kept them'.

'So now Little Miss Tyrant has them', Pitch said, chopping something unseen with a sharp knife, 'And me by extension'.

'Even if Candy has them, she can't open the tooth box. Only you or I can do that'.

'She couldn't open the others either but she got them under control. How is she not controlling me right now?'

'Your teeth are who you are: the power inside them cancels hers out. She couldn't control you when you were the boogeyman'.

Pitch put a jug of orange juice down in front of her with a sharp bang.

'I'm still the boogeyman', Pitch said firmly, 'I'm just on a forced vacation that's all'.

'That's how she's not controlling you. Unless she is and you're just lying about it. You're not are you?'

'Even if I said 'no' would it help?' Pitch said over his shoulder.

'Geez, this whole thing's got me paranoid', Tooth said and was mortified to hear her stomach give a loud growl.

'And hungry from the sound of it', Pitch commented, 'Good thing I made breakfast'.

'You made breakfast?' Tooth asked, 'Not that you're not capable obviously! But I never thought of you as a, um, 'breakfasty' person'.

'Well you weren't going to do it snoring like an angry bear', Pitch said as he placed a dish in front of her.

Three warm pancakes sat stacked on it with a dab of butter sliding glacially across the top. A selection of sliced summer fruits had been placed beside them and a goblet of orange juice sat waiting.

'For me?'

Pitch nodded curtly.
Tooth reached for her fork amazed and enthralled by how delicious it looked.
But maybe too delicious?
Tooth's hand hesitated.
Stupid paranoia! Pitch wouldn't try to poison her! What would be the point?!
Pitch interrupted her train of thought by slicing a small piece from a pancake on her plate. He chewed it, a sardonic eyebrow raised. Tooth's stomach grumbled longingly and this time, she practically grabbed the fork.

Pitch took the head seat at the other end of the long table.

As Tooth swallowed her first mouthful, she said, 'Speaking of sleep, how did you get into my bedroom?'

'Technically it's my house but I would never intrude-'

'Not that bedroom. You know the one I mean'.

'I've kept the tunnel to the Tooth Palace open since Halloween. For emergencies'.

Tooth picked up her plate and cutlery and stood up. Walking around the table, she pointedly sat down in the chair beside Pitch. He didn't meet her eyes.

'Emergencies?!' Tooth repeated and was gratified to see Pitch's fingers begin to fidget.

'I didn't have the time to go through the irritating process of asking nicely. Besides you were somewhat preoccupied at the time'.

'Why my bedroom?'

'Don't flatter yourself', Pitch laughed humourlessly, 'I used the bedroom because under the bed is the darkest place in your whole kingdom. The weather is so, ugh, tropical. Still I thought it an unusually generous offer of yours to allow me access'.

'To my bedroom?! And wait a minute, what do you mean 'my' generous offer?!'

Pitch elaborated, with (Tooth thought) a suitably uncomfortable look on his face.

'The offer to allow me unrestricted access to the palace in case I ever wanted my teeth back? In return for helping at Halloween?'

He sighed at Tooth's growing frown and concluded lamely: 'Frost told me you and he had worked this out'.

'He fibbed!'

'Impressive. I continue to underestimate that boy'.

'Yeah right. Well you won't be underestimating him for too much longer'.

'Why?'

''Cause when we get him back to normal I'm gonna kill him!'

Tooth savagely stuffed a chunk of pancake in her mouth. She chewed, trying to ignore how the food melted in her mouth.

'If he hadn't lied to you', Pitch stated diplomatically, 'I couldn't have made it in time to get you'.

'I know!' Tooth said as she swallowed, 'Thanks by the way. Now shut up. I'm still mad at you'.

'You're adorable when you pout you know that?'

Tooth choked on her newest mouthful and grabbed the glass of orange juice to clear her throat.

'Do you need me to spoon feed you during this tantrum?' Pitch asked, that all too familiar sarcastic grin back on his face.
Tooth sighed in relief as the juice did the job. She put the glass down and wiped her mouth with her napkin.

'No thank you', Tooth said with as much dignity as she could muster, 'Where did you get this anyway?'

'I made it'.

'Don't play dumb Pitch. Where'd you get ingredients?'

'I bought them', Pitch said then rolled his eyes at Tooth's sardonic expression, 'I'm not joking'.

'How did you buy them? It's not like you have a bank account'.

'It's truly amazing the small fortune you can amass by looking in cracks and in darkened corners. I've found twenty dollar bills under beds'.

'Anything under pillows?' Tooth asked, eyebrow raised.

'You think I'd be interested in single quarters?! I'm not a pauper!'

'My mistake', Tooth said, popping a bit of strawberry into her mouth, 'Must've been weird though, shopping and everything'.

'Not particularly. Queue up, hand over money, get goods'.

'Yeah, now you mention it, I guess the process hasn't changed much since it was started'.

'I do like the new self-service machines. Saves you exchanging empty platitudes about the weather with the person behind the till'.

'You don't like conversation?'

'Do I look like a social butterfly to you?'

'Honestly you're more like a bat or a crow or a moth with big feathery wings'.

'I like meaningful conversation, not the till worker wasting time talking when they could be scanning my items'.

'Would it really be so hard to at least crack a smile or nod?'

'Yes. That's why I used the self-service machine'.

'I see', Tooth said, placing her cutlery down. By the gods that had tasted good!

'I always thought you'd be a dainty eater', Pitch said dryly.

'Hey I haven't eaten in two days!' Tooth said, jabbing her fork at him, 'Come to think of it, neither have you. Where's your breakfast?'

Pitch supressed a tremor.
As the boogeyman, his diet had tended towards what most people would call 'unpleasant' foodstuffs. He fed on fear but the occasional rat or insect was always a nice tasty distraction. Walking back from the supermarket, he had decided to treat himself and had ducked down an alleyway. The plan was to grab some insects from the dustbins. He usually enjoyed the crunch of cockroaches or the tingle of wasps as they went down his throat but cracking open the first dumpster had turned his stomach. The stench still lingered in his nose, putting him off any food for the moment despite his hunger.
That was another thought.
How long had it been since he felt true hunger?
When he hadn't fed on fear in a while, the ache was more of a craving: a desperate desire for something he wanted but couldn't have. It made his teeth ache as he salivated, his heart race and his usually cool skin to break out in a clammy sweat.
The hunger he had felt earlier was altogether a more mundane thing.
The stomach nagging incessantly at the brain like an old fishwife.
Realising Tooth was perplexed at his silence, he disregarded the memory as well as the nagging of his stomach.

'I already ate', he lied, 'You seemed to enjoy yours though'.

'It was really good. It's weird: I always heard you ate cockroaches'.

She laughed but Pitch noticed her pale ever so slightly.

'There weren't cockroaches in those were there?' she asked delicately.

'Would it matter?' Pitch asked.

'Not at this point, no', Tooth conceded, wiping her mouth with a napkin.

'So, where are your teeth then?' Pitch asked.

'My teeth?'

'I counted four Guardian teeth boxes in the pillowcase', Pitch said, 'None of them had your picture'.

'I didn't lose my teeth. My baby ones just grew up'.

'Convenient', Pitch commented.

'But not very attractive. For a couple of years I looked like a beaver'.

'So you weren't human before you became a Guardian?'

Tooth got up and carried her dishes to the sink.

'By the way', she said, 'I've been meaning to ask: why do you have so many? Your tooth box is bigger than any other I have on file'.

'I don't know', Pitch said, ignoring how in turn Tooth had ignored his question, 'You're the expert'.

'I always thought it was like a shark. You just replace teeth when they get too worn or damaged but you don't use your teeth as weapons and you rarely eat so those can't be the only reasons. They could just be there to help you scare kids but I think there may be another reason'.

Pitch waved a hand to invite her to present her theory and Tooth continued.

'You're one of the oldest spirits on earth so naturally that means tooth loss over time. But I think the reason you have several rows is because of old memories that sometimes come to the surface. May I?'

'May you wha-?' Pitch began but was cut off by Tooth suddenly grabbing hold of his face.
His instincts told him to pull away but she was close enough that he could see the green flecks in her violet eyes.
Had they always shone like that?
It was so rare he saw anybody in daylight.
This pleasant and unexpected revelation was interrupted by Tooth suddenly jabbing her fingers into his mouth, prying his lips open. He gagged slightly as she pulled his tongue out to expose his mouth better. He tried to pull away but her fingers were like a vice. He felt his nails grip the arms of the wooden chair and suddenly felt a stab of empathy for every child he had ever watched sit petrified in the dentist's chair.
Over his discomfort, he became aware of Tooth talking.

'Hmm. No extra rows at the minute. Makes sense because of the morphic change. Adult age thirty five. Spiritual age over-wow- five hundred. Good quality incisors, favours a meat diet. Some wear in front teeth, indicates one knocked loose long time ago. Some magical cosmetic recreation but nothing fancy. No decay or inflamed gum tissue. All in all 'good set of chompers' as Bunny would say'.

She suddenly released him and patted his cheek gently.

'Sorry. Got carried away', she said sheepishly.

Pitch rubbed his jaw.

'Why is it every time we meet, I end up with facial trauma?' he groused.

'This time there was a point to it. From the look of it, your teeth are in good enough condition'.

'For what?'

'You ever heard of 'memory sharing'?'

'No. What does it involve? And please don't say 'sharing memories'. I've figured that part out'.

'It's an ancient technique used for inner peace and enlightenment. Also sometimes for marriage counselling. It would involve me entering your mind, sifting through your memories and unlocking your powers subconsciously. Help your body remember you used to be the boogeyman. Candy's just sort of made it forget'.

'How did you learn this technique?' Pitch asked, intrigued.

'Sandy taught me. When I started out as a Guardian, it was easier for him to plant dreams in my head to describe what it meant. Sand pictures can only tell so much. For a while I thought it would help me gather memories but soon I decided to catalogue memories in teeth rather than recording them directly from people's minds. Saves time and it's less intrusive'.

'What do we do?'

'We start by holding hands and enter a meditative state. Basically it's like psychically picking a lock. It's risky though. You have to let me in to see your memories; good and bad. As the Guardian of memories, I can block you out of my mind while we're connected but-'

'Hardly seems fair', Pitch said crossing his arms while simultaneously trying to ignore the image of Tooth's hand in his.

'Huh?'

'Not exactly 'sharing' is it?' Pitch elaborated, 'You're going poking in the dirty corners of my mind, don't you think it's only right I get to see yours?'

Pitch was gratified to see her blush. It was…endearing somehow.

'It that makes you more comfortable fine', Tooth said primly, 'But you will find sir that my corners are spotless'.

'Well mine won't be. I'm a bachelor after all. When do we start?'

'After another helping of pancakes. Please'.

'What do you mean he got the teeth?!' Candy yelled.

She stomped her foot, dispelling the hasty sand pictures Sandy was conjuring.

'No! Forget it! Had enough with charades thank you! Ugh!'

She threw herself down onto a plush pink sofa and hugged a lacy pillow to her chest. The eyes of the puppy printed on it bulged as she squeezed it angrily. She was tempted to scream into it but was not about to give her enemies the satisfaction of making her behave like a child.
Besides they were in her trailer and yelling out loud wasn't going to bother anyone.

'He got Pitch's teeth though', Jack said from his perch on the back of the sofa.

'Yeah but they're useless!' Candy said, eyeing the offending box.
It lay where she had kicked it, poking out from under the coffee table. A faint black mist curled around it protectively. No matter what she did, she couldn't open it. Even a pneumatic drill hadn't helped! The box didn't like her and she didn't like it.

'The only good thing about this would have been their faces when they opened the chest. And I didn't even get to see that!' she said, resting her chin in her hand.

'Yeah but another good thing is Pitch is still powerless right?' Jack said, 'And what's Tooth gonna do? It's not like her fairies are out collecting teeth: it's only a matter of time before she starts losing power'.

'Oh I wish I shared your confidence or your stupidity', Candy said breezily, 'Tooth is a Guardian which equals very likely to succeed when all hope seems lost. As for Pitch, he seems to have a bad habit of living to fight another day. I'd hoped he would just curl up in a corner without his powers but now it turns out they're still working together!'

She turned to the third person in the room.

'I thought you said they hated each other North!'

North looked up from his delicate work (a new magically amplified microphone) and removed his goggles. A trailer, despite its expensive facilities and relatively large size wasn't the ideal workshop but when Candy had summoned him, how could he have said 'no'? He cracked his knuckles and swivelled in his chair to face Candy.

'You have made them desperate', he said, wiping his hands on a cloth, 'They fear your strength so they band together. But like everything built on sand, it will crumble. All it takes is little pressure and patience'.

'The concert is in two days. I don't have the time!' Candy snapped, throwing the pillow over her shoulder.

'Can't you just reschedule?' Jack asked, leaping to catch the pillow in mid-air.

'No! It has to be Friday night!'

North got up and laid a hand on Candy's shoulder.

'Please Candy, do not work yourself up' he said smiling, 'We are here to protect you and is not like Pitch's powers are going to come back on their own'.

A golden exclamation mark suddenly appeared above Sandy's head. It vanished to be replaced by a series of flashing images. Sandy stopped the continuous stream of images a few seconds later and raised his hands triumphantly. Noting the audience's perplexed looks, he began again with exaggerated facial expressions.

Candy facepalmed.

'Unless he's telling me Pitch and Tooth have fallen down a well, I don't wanna hear it', she groaned.

'Think you might', North said, stroking his beard as he tried to keep up with Sandy.

Candy looked at the images in more detail and clicked her fingers.

'Someone get this man a pencil! We might have something here', she commanded and stomped a foot, 'Bunny!'

A hole appeared in the trailer floor. Bunny leapt from it and saluted.

'Report. Any luck getting into the lair?' she asked, arms crossed.

'Sorry Miss', Bunny said, ears drooping, 'Whole place is banged up tighter than a duck's rear end but I swear if there's a way in I'll find it!'

'I know you will', Candy smiled and tickled Bunny's ears.
He leaned into it, foot tapping with pleasure.

'For now, I want to know what they're up to', Candy whispered, 'Keep your ear to the walls and see what you can find out'.

Bunny nodded and leapt back down the hole, all too keen to resume his reconnaissance mission.