Pitch’s spell of enslavement had only partially afflicted Ombric. Like North’s, his physical body had been turned into a toy, but eons ago, Ombric had learned how to separate his mind from his body. He called it “astral projection” and used it only rarely.

“It’s quite risky,” he explained to North. “One can never be entirely sure what the body may be up to while the mind is out and about, and it depletes one’s energy rather severely. I’ll be hungry for months now.” And, in fact, Ombric had been eating provisions from the infinity bag nonstop since he’d returned to his body. He seemed to relish telling North and Katherine about his adventure, for he paced back and forth excitedly.

Nicholas Saint North and the Battle of the Nightmare King Chapter 24

With the djinni’s help, he crafted a new set of swords and daggers forged from bits of the ancient meteor that had marked the founding of the village.

“Rich with stardust,” North remarked to the djinni. “The old man claims they can ward off any shadow.”

“So let it be done,” replied the djinni with a bow. The mechanical man’s response bemused North.

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With blinding speed, he threw six daggers, three from each hand, and riddled the bear with knives. Then he redrew his sabers and attacked. The bear struck back. But North was at the ready. In an instant he’d sliced off the deadly tips of the bear’s claws. The bear surged forward; North, both sabers in hand, plunged. But the bear was not done. He tossed North to the ground like a rag doll. The bandit, stunned, could not get up. The bear lunged at him, his full weight bearing down. But North was not finished either. He would not let that monster have the children. With what little strength he had left, he raised both sabers just as the beast’s massive body slammed on top of him.

The bear landed with the violence of a meteorite. The ground shook for miles. A cloud of dirt and earth mushroomed up, turning the morning sky ashen. In the silence that followed, the children looked out from the splintered gashes of Big Root. They could just make out the bear’s huge shape through the haze of dust. He shifted and lurched, trying to get to his feet. His breathing was labored and short. With one long, mournful groan, he slowly rolled over and moved no more.

As the air began to clear, the children gasped. The man with the swords lay on the bear’s chest. Both sabers were jammed to the hilt in the black fur just above the behemoth’s heart. The man lay unmoving as well; he looked so small and ragged, like a toy. In a daze the children crept forward to stare at the valiant swordsman.

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