Ch. 2 : The Dream of Vultures

"That doesn't make any sense," the Tooth Fairy muttered. The Guardians were all at North's workshop in the North Pole. The six stood around the moon table, considering what Sandy had told them.

"You control their dreams, Sandy" said Bunnymund. "It doesn't seem possible that not even a single child had one."

The golden man shook his head irritably, a string of jingles coming from his mouth. Tooth put a hand on his shoulder.

"I know, it's frustrating. But there must be an explanation for why the kids aren't having dreams. There isn't anything wrong with your sand is there?"

Sandy gave her a look that spelled out don't-even-go-there. The three kept brainstorming, each idea expelling even more annoyed jingles from the Sandman. Jack sat tucked into a corner, staring out the window. The ghost of Alex still floated around in the back of his mind. The silvery wisp of a man was so lifelike, Jack was certain that if he wanted to he could have reached out and felt skin against his fingers.

"Thana…" he muttered to himself. Because of her, a man was dead, but Jack wasn't prepared to say that she had killed him. This girl, Thana, had to be found. He spotted the Guardians' reflections in the window. 'I should tell them' he thought, standing to his feet.

"They can't just not dream!" Bunnymund half-shouted. "You're tellin' me they just stare at the back of their eyelids for hours until they decide to wake up?"

"No," Jack said suddenly. The room grew quiet, the eyes of the Guardians now fixed on him. "There's something there, but it isn't a dream."

North, who had been quiet until now, knitted his brows together. He sat forward in his chair. "What do you mean by this?"

"It happened to me while I was asleep too. It wasn't a dream, but I saw… something." He began to explain the contents of his sleep the night before. Falling into the pit, the black feathers, the sharp beak, and the black feather that appeared at his feet when he woke up. "When I tried to pick it up, a painful buzz when through my hand. And the same thing happened when I touched it with the tip of my crook."

North hunched over in his chair, palms pressed together. "Was there anything else? A voice, a silhouette?"

Jack shook his head. "But the moment I realized that I was asleep, I started falling. And I only woke up after I knew that I had reached the bottom of the pit."

North suddenly rose to his feet, making his way to the shops giant doors. Tooth fluttered after him.

"What are we going to do?"

North scooped up his double swords, and tugged on his hat. "We find Pitch," he said angrily.

"Pitch Black…" Tooth whispered in surprise.

"Of course," Bunnymund said quietly. "It has to be that monster." He flipped his boomerangs in his paws and leaped after North, Sandy at his side. Jack stayed where he was. As logical as it seemed, his heart was filled with doubt. To him, it didn't seem like something Pitch was capable of doing. Why would he be set on taking dreams away when his goal was to fill them with nightmares. Sandy was the first one to notice that Jack wasn't beside them, and jingled for him to come. The others slowed and turned back around.

"Come on, Jack." Tooth beckoned him towards them, but instead he fixed his gaze at the floor.

"I don't think it's Pitch."

Bunnymund wrinkled his nose. "Of course it's Pitch! This is just like what he did last time. Messing with Sandy's dreams and growing stronger the more he fills the world with nightmares!"

"Bunny is right," North said with a nod. "This has Pitch Black written all over it. We must find him now before he can do any more damage." The group turned back around, heading for the sleigh, leaving Jack behind. Sandy stole one more glance behind him at the frozen boy. When their eyes met, he gave Jack a nod and rejoined the other Guardians.

Alone in the giant workshop, Jack found himself walking up and down the walls, in and out of rooms, finally stopping in North's private workshop. The little wooden office was lined with shelves filled with hand-carved figures and small toys. North's desk was busy with wood shavings, small knives, and a hand sized lump of what would soon be another wooden figure. On the wall above his desk were small pictures and drawings. Some from children who's house he had visited, and some intricate illustrations done by North. Jack smiled at each one, spotting a detailed painting of the six of them. His eyes flitted over the others, until they came to rest on a square of four cards placed side by side. One of the cards Jack could tell was an image of him, with a blue snowflake above him, but the other three were vaguely familiar to him. Beside his was an illustration of a girl with a pallet of orange, red, and yellow in her hair kneeling below brown leaf. Next was a boy with long locks of golden hair and bronze armlets around his biceps, standing below a yellow sun. Lastly, a girl dressed in all white, sandy brown hair tucked neatly below a circlet on her head. She sat like a statue below a pale green flower.

"Ambrose…" Jack muttered, his eyes on the girl below the leaf. It had been many years since he had spoken with the other seasons. He normally did his best to stay away from them. Throughout his times being naughty with his winter skills, he had made a bad name for himself in the eyes of the other seasons as an incompetent trouble maker. Ambrose, the fall season, was the only one who had tried to befriend him. Had Jack not have seen their portraits, he wouldn't have considered asking for their help.

"Maybe they would know something." Jack said to himself. He glanced outside, and noted the string of flurries gently floating on the wind. Winter would be over soon, and that meant that the seasons would be gathering to discuss the changing of the seasons. Jack had never gone, knowing that he would never be welcomed. Perhaps, with his new status as a guardian, they would reconsider.

Jack flew through the winter sky, riding the wind like a surfer on a wave. The gathering always took place in the Black Forest in Germany. He had been to the forest several times during the winter, but he had never gone at the changing of the seasons. Fields of frosted over farmlands whizzed by below him. He reached Sweden just as the sun began to set, when a familiar buzz shocked his fingers. His mind raced back to the black feather and stopped, floating gently in place. Somewhere below him was whatever had caused his strange dream. The gathering was still a few hours away.

'I'm sure it wouldn't hurt if I just took a look,' he thought to himself, diving down. He closed in on the region of Uppsala. The buzz in his fingers grew stronger the closer he drew. Eventually, he reached the coast, settling down on the beach. The frozen sand crunched under his feet and the tides pushed panes of ice onto the shore. In the distance, he could make out a small house at the base of a massive light house. His fingers twitched and Jack immediately knew that whatever was causing this was inside that house. He leaped into the wind, drawing up to the house's window, and peered inside. He couldn't see anything. An empty kitchen with a circular, wooden table off to the side. He could see a set of stairs climbing up to the second floor.

With a jump, he floated around to the side of the house, where he found a long, thin window. On the other side he saw a man in one bed, and a young boy in a smaller bed on the other side of the room. He had only glanced at the boy, but the grotesque figure leaning over him made Jack's stomach flip over. Cloaked in a long, tattered cloak, the figure was hunched like a vulture over the young boy. A long, bony claw reached out from within the cloak and hung over the boy's head like a mobile. The boy curled up, stirring uncomfortably in his sleep. Jack had seen enough and burst through the window.

"Hey!" He shouted at the vulture, hurling a jet of ice at it. The monster shrieked and leaped out of the way. It clambered on to the wall and stared at Jack from the depths of its hood. It emitted a birdlike screech, and launched itself at the frost spirit. Jack's eyes went wide and he clambered out of the way. The vulture managed to graze his arm, leaving a long gash across his forearm. Jack yelped in pain, clutching his arm. The boy stirred again and this time even the father was starting to wake up.

'I have to get this thing away from them!' Jack thought. With a burst of strength, he threw himself at the vulture, sending it and himself crashing out the window. The two tumbled across the sand, clawing and fighting for dominance. With a hard kick, the vulture flew backwards, crashing into the water. Jack shakily clambered to his knees. He was covered with small cuts, his beloved blue hoodie torn through the sleeve and littered with holes. The vulture twitched and screamed at him again, its hunched back moving as if something inside it was trying to burst out. With a horrifying crack, a greasy, black wing burst from beneath the cloak. Another crack released a second feathered wing. Jack's eyes went wide with fear as the monster flapped its wings and rose into the air. He pointed his crook at it, backing up towards the lighthouse. The vulture extended two bony claws, aimed at Jack.

From the sky, a heavy blast of wind hurled the vulture back into the sea. Jack whirled around. At the top of the light house stood a girl with a large, multicolored ponytail.

"Ambrose…?" Jack questioned, making out the form of the autumn spirit. The vulture once again rose from the crashing waves, this time focused on Ambrose. It tried to fly towards her, only to be hit with another crash of wind. Ambrose jumped off of the light house and dove towards the vulture. With a spin, she slammed her foot into its face, sending it tumbling through the air. She landed gracefully on her feet like a ninja. The vulture screeched from the sky and turned away, flying into the disappearing moonlight.

Jack felt his knees give out, and he fell to the ground.

"Jack!" he heard the spirit shout, followed by the padding sound of sprint steps. Ambrose knelt by him and helped him sit forward. It had been years since Jack had seen her. Her hair was still hundreds of shades of red, yellow, and orange, pulled back into a long, puffy ponytail. She was dressed in a pair of jeans, a brown knitted sweater striped with patterns of yellow, green, and orange, a black knitted hat, and a pair of green chucks. Had she not have been an invisible season spirit, she could have easily blended in as a normal human.

Jack breathed heavily, needles of pain pricking in every place. "Where did you come from?" He asked.

"I was going to ask the same, including what you're doing here." Her voice was raspy, like a metal singer and dripped with a Londoner's accent. "But seeing that… thing… I guess I don't need to ask."

"I need your help. Yours and the others' too. I'm worried something terrible is going to happen."

Ambrose took Jack's uninjured arm over her shoulders and helped him to his feet. "We need to get to the forest first. And on the way, you can catch me up to speed with what's been going on, little guardian." She said the last part with a hint of a smile on her face. The two spirits rose into the air, and flew away with the wind.