Disclaimer: I do not own "Coraline" or "Nightmare Before Christmas".

Betaed by: Zim'smostoyalservnt and Trackula.

The Price

Chapter 2

Mercy Also Has a Price

Jack and Cat walked through the hills outside town. Jack had set the course; the hills were often thinly inhabited, and during the daytime even more so. He had taken to walking them when he needed solitude to consider his misgivings. Before Sally that was, he thought with a smile.

The smile didn't last as he turned his gaze on Black Cat. The return of this one was not exactly unwelcome, but he had a strong feeling it was not going to be pleasant.

"The Beldam is dead," Cat said casually.

Jack missed his step, almost staggering as he came to a halt.

"…Really?" Jack managed, waiting for the feeling of a tugged rug to fade.

"No doubt on the matter, Jack."

"…I see," Jack said, straightening his tie and frowning.

"No tears? Well, I suppose after all this time you might have gotten some kingly fortitude," Cat said, circling Jack. Despite Jack towering over the small being, he felt he was the one under examination.

'Because I am,' Jack thought. He didn't frown at the thought. The news… he was not quite sure what he felt about it. What should he feel? But he knew he should feel something, but whichever feel it was would be somehow inappropriate.

He decided to ask a question to stall for time on behalf of his emotions.

"Was it painless?"

"Not at all. Death by starvation, agonizing. She suffered, and it seems died with a hate-filled final gasp before being moved on. A horrid way to go, worthy of a nightmare," Cat chuckled. He looked up at Jack, showing his teeth slightly, which with eye alight and his haughty air made Jack almost shudder.

Yes, there was a good reason something so much like a simple cat had stood high in Halloween Town's administration before more visceral horrors. The simplicity, and yet so casually sadistic; disturbing, like walking alone through a field only to realize with each glance back a single boulder has moved from its spot as if it had always been right there. And each time you look back, it's closer. You don't know if anything will happen when the boulder reaches you. Perhaps you'll be rid of it if you reach the trees? Perhaps not.

Jack preferred to stay away from Cat's kind of Horror. It took too much and gave too little, in the Pumpkin King's opinion. Fear should be mixed with joy at coming out the other side, and a smile as you flee. A thrilled, racing heart as you bolt your door. A grand tale of terror! Not a festering terror that holds the client awake in odd hours, nursing a drink under harsh lights, waiting for dawn and hoping for once it will bring them peace from what awaits behind their eyelids.

He and Cat exchanged the glares of rival artists. Travelers on the same road facing wrong directions, and quite done with the other trying to drag them the other way.

"She was my sister, Cat. And once the Pumpkin King. Respect what she was, even with what she became," Jack ordered, bending down sharply to poke Cat on the head.

Cat's eyes widened in outrage, but then arrowed to slits. No hissing as Jack straightened up. Jack resisted the urge to nod. Yes, it was not quite like the old days; the lessons may never end, but he no longer needed this teacher's approval as he once had.

"Starvation? How, she should have had everything she needed. Self-inflicted?" Jack asked.

"Well take a seat, it's time you learned how she killed time, and others, in that fine pocket of a prison you put together," Cat said, his swagger returning.

X X X

Some time later, Cat had finished his story, and waited for Jack's response. The Pumpkin King sat on a boulder, slumped and jaw slightly slack; Cat was sure if he had eyes, they'd be wide and unfocused. As it was, his sockets were staring off into the distance as he sat in stunned silence.

After a few minutes of this, Cat's patience wore thin, and he cleared his throat, snapping Jack out of his daze.

"While that's a very nice horizon you're staring off into," Cat said dryly, "I really would like some sort of reaction for what I just told you. This situation requires a response, preferably sooner than later."

"I need to speak with her, this Coraline, and see what can be done about this whole thing," Jack nodded.

"Hmm, I sense there is something else on your mind. Don't tell me you mourn the Beldam," the Cat pressed. Jack looked up and managed a frown.

"She was my sister," Jack reminded his old teacher. Cat gave a single harsh laugh.

"And better for all had you set aside that sentiment and swung the axe yourself when you overthrew her insane tyranny. For all her faults, Beldam was never soft on her duty, only negligent in favor of her obsessions."

"Yes, she became a monster, I know that Cat. I knew that when I raised my hand against her the first time to save Halloween," Jack growled, getting to his feet and towering over the Cat.

"You helped me, Cat, but I was the one who overthrew Sam's chosen heir in battle and crowned myself Pumpkin King to set right the wicked path she tried to take us all on. I had some hope that in time she might become the nightmare I once looked up to, who the king had chosen as his heir. That's what I mourn, what she was, and what I hoped she could be again. As for an excess of mercy, you'll find kingship has hardened me, Cat. Do not press me needlessly," Jack warned. Cat regarded him with narrowed eyes, but then nodded with what might have been a pleased smile at the menacing shadow Jack cast over him.

"Well then, the first step is for you to reach her, Pumpkin King. The next Holiday to cross with the human world properly is Christmas. I trust you discovered the doors at some point? It occurs to me I had no chance to show you, and the other elders were too dead by Beldam to remedy that."

Jack's imposing air cracked, and he adjusted his bowtie, looking rather sheepish for a skeleton.

"Umm, there may be some issues between me and Christmas, Cat," Jack said, glancing aside and adjusting his perfect tie.

"…Explain," Cat commanded.

And so Jack did.

X X X

"And that was some years ago now. Sally and I have the kids; Halloween, I think, has never been better; and about two Halloweens back Santa landed for a short visit. So it seems he has forgiven," Jack finished the story.

"…Well, Jack, congratulations. It's rare I've been so disappointed that I'm at a loss at where to start," Cat snapped, glaring at Jack evilly. Jack held up his hands in surrender and Cat hissed to the side, tail bristling.

"Stealing another Holiday! I'd never even think to have that as a lesson because I cannot grasp at what point you thought such a ludicrous idea was worth pursuing."

"Yes sir."

"It manages to make Beldam seem the soul of reason, malicious reason but still reason."

"Yes sir."

"And no one but this Miss Stitch had the mind and moxy to say nay to this overwhelmingly foolish scheme?"

"Yes sir."

"…*HISS*"

"Yes sir."

"Huff! Well, at least you married sense, even if you weren't born to it. And you were ready to swing the axe on the Bogeyman even if Father Christmas beat you to the block. That is something."

"So, you see why I may have some difficulty waltzing in and asking Santa Claws for a favor then?" Jack clarified.

"Yes. And I would not be surprised if word has gotten out. You've like as not made Halloween's name mud among the Holiday Realms. Very well, it's clear I must resume some oversight of you. Your first assignment, clean up your mess. Start by reaching Coraline," Cat commanded.

"And the issue?"

"Bah! Overcoming obstacles is part of a test. You're in this mess because far too many for far too long have regarded you as some paragon. And a wife is a brand of limited utility as life is problematic to teaching. So I shall resume my place as regent until you are in a shape to my satisfaction. Now, begin!"

"…Right now? Shouldn't I tell Sally and the kids what I-"

"ROWR!" Cat hissed, arching his back, eyes seeming alight.

"Going directly to the Christmas door. Stop by and give them a word for me alright?" Jack asked, getting to his feet.

X X X

Jack was seeing red as Santa Claus took him into a tastefully Christmasy parlor where a roaring fire was going. Specifically, he was seeing red in his left eye socket, which had a red spherical Christmas ornament jammed into it still.

"Are you sure you don't need me to get that?" the jolly old soul asked as they reached the tall, comfy-looking chair situated in front of the fire with a small coffee table adorned wth Christmas sweets and steaming mugs between.

"No, no need. Almost, GOT IT," Jack said, the orb coming clear with a popping noise. His skull tilting on his spine, he handed the ornament off to Santa, taking a moment to set his skull aright with a pop and a click.

"I'm truly sorry about all that, Jack," Santa apologized, taking his seat and setting his cap aside to pick up a mug.

"No, I suppose it's to be expected. You can't really order someone to forgive and forget," Jack said. His bone fingers hovered like a spider over the cookies before snatching up one shaped like a Christmas elf. If he bit the head off with a bit more relish than was proper, Santa did not comment beyond a slightly inferring wide-eyed gaze before dunking a Christmas tree cookie in his own mug.

It was December 26th officially, by the land's calendar. And Jack's attire was out of sorts enough that if not for the stains of red, green, and white, and splotches of glittering glitter, it would make a nice outfit going for a less refined undead. As it was, even by Halloween Town standards, his outfit was ruined. But he knew he was lucky that was the only thing.

He had expected to waltz in as easily as last time, and present himself with metaphorical hat in hand to ask, even beg Santa Claus' aid. He hadn't really expected trouble — after all, both their holidays prized the happiness of children, and Jack was certain any lingering resentment triggered by asking a favor he could not easily repay would be set aside for the sacred task of aiding a child in need.

He had not counted on the elves. Who had not only set up alarms for his possible return, but apparently ever since that fateful Christmas Eve made it a civilization-wide mission to ensure their precious Santa would never again be menaced by any horror from beyond the door.

He was still not sure how the alarm had been triggered, and traps and such were Halloween staples! He'd be impressed if he wasn't so annoyed. And the raised alarm had brought a veritable Yuletide of Christmas-themed wrath upon the Pumpkin King. Jack was certainly glad he had come alone — Sally deserved all the respect she could be given, but save perhaps Cat through sheer sneakiness, that horde of elves he expected would have made short work of any Halloween Town resident coming in peace.

And they had succeeded, after a fashion. They had kept Jack hunted and at bay until Christmas had come and gone. And done so in such a way that Santa had not been aware of it until making his return landing less than an hour ago.

True to being a prince of a holiday that included "peace on earth" among its mottos, the Jolly Old Soul had quickly convinced his helpers that Jack was no threat and offered apologies. Though he did state Jack might have saved himself some trouble by sending a letter in advance. Jack decided as they walked to the workshop not to mention he had no option at the time to consider anything but the direct approach because he had been intimidated by a self-important feline that was right an annoying amount of time.

And here they were, him finally getting to sit down with Santa, with the Jolly Old Soul awaiting for Jack to bring up the reason for his visit.

"Well, I'm not really sure where to begin," Jack admitted. Santa gave him a smile he was sure had reassured many a naughty child who felt the world had ended wth a lump of coal.

"Try going back to the earliest part you think is really needed, and start from there," Santa suggested. Jack nodded and tapped his chin, thinking for a moment.

"I am not the original Pumpkin King. Before my reign and before my time, Halloween was ruled over by Sam, known to some as Samhain. In the course of events, and despite many venerable achievements, Sam decided his time as Pumpkin King needed to end for the Holiday to continue to grow and thrive under a 'fresher' leadership. And so he choose a successor," Jack said.

"And so you became Pumpkin King," Santa nodded, dipping a cookie in his steaming cup.

"No," Jack said. The single word stopped Santa with a dripping cookie halfway to his open mouth. Jack frowned and stirred his own cup, sending steam rising. Blowing on the steam, he continued.

"Sam's chosen successor was called the Beldam," Jack said as the steam formed into the shape of something like a spider and a woman, "And it was a choice that we all came to regret."

Later:

Jack ended his tale with Cat's report and his setting out to seek Santa. The two Holiday rulers sat in silence, both frowning. Jack contemplating old mistakes and regrets he may have tried too hard to put behind him. And Santa contemplating his own responsibilities, taking to heart the lesson of how single mistakes could so easily unravel ages of good works into tragedy.

"I see, Jack. I will see what I can do. The 25th is the time the mortal world is most open to me, but Christmas is not just celebrated on that day. Perhaps we can angle matters aright to get you where you need to be," Santa said, getting up and going to a bookshelf. He pulled a large book titled "Atlas of Belief" from the shelf and sat it down on the table, Jack joining him.

Shortly:

"Blast, with her location and the layout of believers in that region… At most I could get you a few minutes."

"If you just get me there, I can find my way back from anyplace the Halloween spirit lingers," Jack suggested.

"Jack, your ignorance is showing. If you journey with me, you will be bound under my Holiday. When my time runs out, you will be pulled back, or destroyed! The mortal world does not welcome our kind so generously as it once did. Especially when we are out of place. Maybe if it was a town or place deeply vested in your kind of horror… But it isn't," Santa said, flipping to another section showing Halloween's layout on the area. Yes, nothing special to take advantage of. But then, Jack had chosen it for that reason back then, hadn't he?

"So you can't help me?" Jack sighed.

"Doubtful — you aren't going to just grab young Coraline and go. You don't just need to reach her, you need time and patience to say and do what is needed. I'm sorry, if only the elves hadn't-"

"No, this all comes back to me, sir. If it weren't for what this girl was going through, I'd call it fair that I'm not getting an easy solution. Maybe the other Holidays? New Year's?"

"No! Jack, Father Time is not one to be approached lightly. He is two-faced by nature. He's nostalgia and regrets at once, hope for the future and terror of it bundled up in one. On his days, he's at his most powerful and most dangerous. He's also a stickler for rules. And Easter Bunny, after he got over his initial fright, warned everyone. So by the time I offered an explanation, I am afraid they saw only validation of Halloween, and you in particular, as a troublemaker of a holiday. You should try and mend fences with the others, but it will take time, and it seems time is something you need to spend wisely now, Pumpkin King."

"…Can you really only go on Christmas Days?"

"No, there are softer times. But those are rare and often more like going as a dream or such."

"But Christmas is very tied to specific things, right? Halloween ties into a lot of things that don't belong solely to an Autumn night. Maybe there's another way for me to travel there? I didn't even know about the doors and they were right there waiting. What else may I not know?" Jack said, staring intently into his cup.

"Sounds like you have an idea," Santa smiled. Jack set his cup aside and nodded.

"Thank you for your time. If you'll excuse me, I think I need to study, and talk with an old teacher whose lesson might actually be needed now."

X X X

Wybie took a deep breath. He felt like he was on the high dive on a dare again, the kind without a real diving board but those big concrete things. He'd never told anyone how much those things bothered him. Unlike their bouncy cousins, they seemed to just loom as serious business. Taking a happy time for kids and dragging it into a rigid adult world of calculation and consequences or something.

But this wasn't a high dive. It was a path into the woods.

Snow was thick on the ground, but old, his own tracks from previous trips showing the way. He had marked the trees at what he felt was Cat's urging, three cuts forming a crude C.

This was was not his first time down this path, but like those high dives it never seemed to get easer to take that first step out.

These woods… he was an outdoors kid. He had nothing against a bit of TV, or video games, heck he ruled at many a board game. But he'd never understood how so many people preferred to take a spectator role in life. Life that was waiting 'out there' to be lived. Like his odd relationship with Cat, for example.

So while he had taken enough knocks and scares to respect the outdoors in general, and the woods in particular, he was not afraid of them. But, standing before this path, each time it felt like he was somewhere he was not supposed to be. As if the shadows of the trees on snow were watching, and the creaking of bark and cracking of ice was a muted chorus warning him this time he might not come back from around that next corner.

He was scared. Raising his face, he put his mask down, squaring his shoulders.

But being scared wasn't an excuse he was willing to accept, so he took the first step. After that it was just a plunge down to the water.

X X X

"Tree fort looks lousy as every, Jonsey," Wybie remarked, reaching the tree.

The boy got no answer from the structure that reminded him of a squirrel's nest. If a squirrel were scary big and had access to a rag bag.

Wybie pulled out a pair of sandwich bags from his backpack; one with small bronze screws in it, the other containing a box of staples.

"I brought more potential edibles! i figured maybe metal wants metal right?"

"I told you not to come back," a hoarse voice called down from the tree.

"Yeah, but following instructions has never been my best trait. And despite what you may think, Jonsey, you're not the boss of me," Wybie said, approaching the tree with a casual stride but eyes glued to the nest. The nest stirred, she was moving around.

"Nothing has worked."

"Yet, nothing has worked yet. It's just good science, accept failure, note it, and use what you learn to keep going…"

"Science? Wybie, we left anything approaching reason behind many turns ago. Are they even still looking?"

"…I think so. Your mom still asks me when she runs into me."

"Not a word."

"Jonsey-"

"NOT A WORD!" Coraline roared, slamming into the ground in front of Wybie.

Wybie, with a wordless cry, fell onto his back. Head bobbing up and down, a rag pressed to her face where mouth should be, Coraline gagged and wobbled on her many legs. Straightening up, she glared at him, those buttons shiny as if polished, and advanced slowly. Wybie couldn't help but pull himself backward before her.

"This… curse. I got too close and thought I could get away, Wybie, but I didn't. It splashed on me, infected me. Ruined my life. The last thing I want is someone else, especially my family, getting caught up in it. Saving me, tying to save me, could only make things worse! This isn't some fairytale, and you're no shining knight! If the world wants to seam over a Coraline-shaped hole and move on, that's probably for the best. DON'T COME BACK!" she roared again, grabbing him under his left shoulder and tossing him back toward the path he came.

He was man enough, that he wouldn't deny he ran.

"Whew, well that could have gone better," Wybie told himself, reaching the edge of the forest. Picking a twig out of his hair, he frowned.

"Three days should be enough to let her cool down. Knight in shining armor? Phfft, I prefer too cool bounty hunter type or maybe the alchemist, Jonsey," Wybie muttered to himself, thrusting hands in his pockets and making his way home.

X X X

Oogie's Basement; Jack found it distasteful as ever. Even abandoned to decay, it retained an aura of Oogie's rot.

Cat had sent him here, in a roundabout fashion. The feline's lack of reaction to his failure to secure aid from another Holiday made Jack suspect his old teacher had expected this. Sent him there in order to get the business end of a Yuletide!

Well, if there was a key of some sort in Halloween Town, something tied to his station as Pumpkin King, Jack didn't know about it.

He was appreciating freshly how much Beldam's fall from grace had cost them as a people. First the knowledge of other holidays, and now whatever it was he was looking for. Who knew what other lore, great or small, had been lost to her insanity?

The late and unlamented Boogieman had been a hoarder even by the standards of their kind. His banishment to the underground had only made him more determined in coveting whatever fell into reach or whatever his minions brought to appease him. And… his sickness had been much the same as Beldam's.

Too many links to ignore, so now by lantern light Jack explored in search of he knew not what.

Turning a corner, he arrived at the site of Oogie's death. The area had a disarrayed look to it as Jack raised his lantern and stepped delicately. The cobwebs were… too well put out.

"Someone went scavenging," Jack noted with some surprise. Oogie's mechanics and animatronics had been broken down or outright hauled off. There was little left but scraps and the circular conveyor, adorned with decorative spider webs.

"Well, it's not like he was going to have any more use for it," Jack shrugged, leafing over to glance into the pit that had been intended as Santa Claus' soupy grave. Dry as bones now, and the pot or such gone, leaving nothing but stones and dirt to catch the light.

"Waste not, want not," Jack remarked, realizing Oogie's hoarding was no secret, and now that he thought on it, he could definitely see the citizens only waiting so long as it took to be sure the old Boogeyman was dead before ransacking his place for any stolen items or just salvage for their own ongoing projects.

"Which means this may have just gotten a lot harder," Jack scowled, matching the expression carved on his lantern.

Still, he decided to press on for the moment, passing through the main gallery and entering through an open doorway to what he guessed was Oogie's office.

"No, a workshop," Jack corrected himself, seeing the cubby holes for long-gone tools and parts. A bucket still held rolls of paper, which Jack pulled one out of. Schematics, for one of his gun-totting animatronics. Replacing it, Jack looked over the place and noticed the desk that seemed the least picked over thing.

Going through the drawers, Jack found many things most would find disquieting, or outright scary, but to him and the plunderers before him, didn't warrant a second glance.

Soon he had checked the last drawer, and feeling a bit thwarted, took a seat on the hard floor.

"This whole thing seems a bit too much. A scavenger hunt without even knowing what you are meant to scavenge? Am I looking for a key, a clue to a key, or some kind of door to begin with? Perhaps Sally can offer some…" Jack trailed off, noticing something from the corner of his eye under the desk. Grabbing the top of his lantern, he rotated it to cast its scowling radiance on the questionable bit of darkness.

A book, quite thick and bound with leather, formerly lodged between a broken desk leg and the floor.

Narrowing his eyes, Jack hefted the desk just enough to take the weight off and slide the book free. He let the desk topple, falling apart under its own impact and kicking up a dust cloud.

Jack walked out of the cloud unperturbed, holding his lantern aloft as he blew decades of dust off the tome.

"Threading the Needle of Creation: A Study of the Means and Methods of Traversing Worlds," Jack read the engraved title aloud.

He gave a grin worthy of his namesake and flipped the book open to start reading as he walked out of his vanquished foe's rotting lair.

X X X

"Well, Jack, it seems you're on the right track," Cat remarked with a sly grin. Jack frowned, not sure if the rhyme was intentional or not.

They were in his tower study; he had finally been able to come home, but a quick greeting with the children aside, he had kept his metaphorical nose in the book. The vexing thing lacked a table of contents or other aids, so it was a page by page slog for anything useful.

Sally had been understanding and kept the children away. Jack hated to neglect them at all, but seeng them only made the urgency of this matter bite harder. Three children dead before their time, his fault. And another child dealing with changes beyond her knowledge without even a bit of guidance.

As a father, a king, and a skeleton of true and vital bones, it was demanded of him to see this matter resolved to the best of his ability.

"The Moonstone, an artifact of uncertain origin. A stone such as taken from a river, that could easily fit in a grown man's hand. Black as darkest night on one half, pale as the moon on the other. With this, the owner of the stone can travel between the mortal world and the Otherworld most attuned to them. But only on the nights of the full and new moon. And it can only be accessed through a ritual whose first requirement is it be done here, in the land of Halloween," Jack recounted to Cat as Sally entered. She favored Jack with a smile and refilled his teacup, having brought a fresh pot. Cat she gave a scowl to.

"Any cream?" Cat asked her, putting on his best eyes.

"Once you give me back my husband, I'll consider it. I don't take kindly to people popping up from nowhere and acting as if they own the place," Sally said evenly. Jack smiled, but Sally gave him a look that made him school his face.

Yes, she had not been pleased that he had neglected something so important either. It seemed whether he would get an earful from here after the matter was resolved was still in the air. So he'd best keep his best pluck forward yet.

"But Jack, if Oogie Boogie knew about this stone, why didn't he use it? He would be just the type to run amok and cause mischief of the worse sort over there," Sally asked.

"Well, the answer's right in this book I expect, do read on Jack," Cat snickered.

Jack drummed his fingers on the desk, raising an eyebrow at the cat, who was seated firmly atop the book, namely upon the page Jack needed.

Cat just stared back at him.

…

…

"Honestly! I'll get cream," Sally huffed, turning and marching out. With a grin, Cat leapt off the book and to the floor. Jack brushed some black hairs from the page and read on. Blinking, he read again before continuing.

"No wonder he didn't try and get it himself. The Moonstone cannot be found or summoned. Only earned by overcoming the challenges of its three guardians," Jack read.

Well, no one said it would be easy. Fortunately, he was the Pumpkin King, he thought as he grabbed a sheet of paper and began jotting down notes from the book.

X X X

Jack found the preparation for the ritual refreshingly straightforward. Certainly, in another realm another person would have troubles, but many of the required components were right in his own house for the taking, and the rest amounted to little more than an hour of shopping on Main street. As for the magic, he had to see the witches to clarify a few points, but they were eager to assist him.

All in all, the main thing delaying him was the need to wait until the moon reached its zenith.

As ready as it could be, Cat watched over the array, letting Jack retire home. The children were determined to make up for lost time, only being stopped by Sally summoning all to the dinner table. While Jack had not gone hungry, a proper dinner with the family was far more invigorating.

Any hopes of spending more time with the children were dashed by Sally, who sent him off to bed.

"Jack, you've not gotten a good day's sleep since this started. These trials are something you need to put your best foot forward for. Get some rest. I'll wake you when its time."

And with that, he was alone in their bedroom.

"Why is it when you most need to sleep, you can't?" Jack griped, getting up from bed, night cap adorning his skull.

Making his way to the dresser, he opened a drawer and pulled out a pair of bottles. Spiking the drink with just three drops of potion, he gurgled it before swallowing. Not feeling like getting back in bed yet as the potion wouldn't even take effect right away, he rapped his fingers on the marble dresser top, and looked over the pictures on the wall. Of course there was one of him in his monochromatic regalia, and Sally in her stitched elegance. Each of the children had their own frame. Even the Doctor was honored, tucked away in a corner while a family portrait held center stage. Hmm, and one for the Doctor's wife, Sally's stepmother.

The children had never asked about Jack's family. His parents had no portraits, here or elsewhere; back when they resided in the town, such things were for a higher class than they.

Beldam, his sister, the children's aunt. There had been portraits of her. And a statue once adorning the town square. Jack had personally seen the statue destroyed during that fateful battle, crushing two of his sister's corrupted abominations in the bargain with it. He was less sure what had happened with the portraits. Burned? Or gathering dust in some corner?

Would it be right to put up her portrait? It seemed too much, after what she had done. But acting like she didn't exist, he had to admit now, sat ill with his conscience.

Did Coraline's family have such a spread of pictures? With one now draped in black, mourning someone in ignorance while they yet lived.

Jack was not sure the weariness he felt was the potion taking effect as he made his way back to the four-poster bed.

X X X

The array was set up on a lonely hilltop, an assembly of three triangles forming four triangles to make four with a circle about it and candles of different sorts burning at the right places. The spells had been cast, and now all that remained was for the moon to move into position. Jack watched, with Sally by his side and Cat on her shoulders.

"Likaces, unbreaking and untiring, must be made to submit. Dirujad, smoke and shadow, pursuer and hunter, must be trapped. Lan Deach, who guards the gate, must be answered," Sally recalled aloud.

"Three guardians to be beaten, straightforward enough," Jack commented.

"Jack, Oogie Boogie was greedy and ambitious, but he apparently feared them enough to not even try."

"Oogie was always a coward at heart, Sally. For all my faults, I'm not that," Jack assured her.

"I know, just be careful. We only know what was written," Sally sighed.

"And don't tarry," Cat spoke up, "In three days time, the full moon will rise on the Pink Palace; if you don't have the moon stone by then, Coraline will have to wait until the new moon."

"Have some faith. After all, I am the Pumpkin King," Jack said, as the array ignited in blue fire under the moonbeams.

"Show me that you are," Cat answered. Jack didn't answer; straightening his tie, he stepped into the flames and faded from sight as he crossed the array, vanishing into the night.

Author's Note:

Happy Halloween!

Next chapter, Jack and Coraline meet.