Prologue
Her hands shook as she drew the small red book from the sleeve of her dress. With weary eyes she gazed upon its title, Labyrinth. She let out a shuddering breath and looked at the clouded sky that hung low over the treetops. She let her gaze rest upon the riverbank, where the willow trees swung in the evening breeze. With leaden steps, she walked towards the river’s edge, images of a Shakespearean Ophelia running through her head. This is where it all began, she thought. This is where it must end.
It was time.
Her troubled thoughts fought with her unwilling body and she collapsed as she reached the shore. Her left hand throbbed, especially her index finger, where she thought a faerie had bitten her, if faeries did exist. Her mouth was strangely dry, with a slight tang of peach resting lightly upon her tongue. She had seen and felt magic, hadn’t she? Was that the reason for her sickness? Was she merely deluding herself with fancy imaginings? Shaking, she leant forward to gaze at her reflection in the water. Dark shadowed eyes were huge in a too pale face. It was all too much for her to bear. She couldn’t live with it any more.
She no longer knew what was reality and what was fantasy. She remembered a time when she had been in the Labyrinth, but knew not if it was of her own making, her own imagination now playing cruel tricks. Since that remembered time, seemingly three years ago but more like an age, she had begun to doubt her own sanity even as her body began to fail her. No one knew why, she had no energy, no will to live or to eat and sleep evaded her like a gypsy rose from a would be suitor. No one would notice, no one would care. She was a burden to her father and stepmother and she did not want her little brother to grow up with a sister whose sanity was a tenuous thing at best. It was time to make an end. Her vision darkened around the edges as she thought of falling, falling into the cool water, to lie with the reeds under the willow and let it all slip away from her with the current.
The evening breeze ran its delicate fingers along her back, cooling the heated feverish skin beneath the pale gown and for a brief moment clearing her vision and thoughts. It was then she saw another’s reflection in the water beside hers, a face she recognised well and yet was also a stranger to her. Was it her mind playing yet another trick, or was he really there, standing behind her? She almost lacked the energy and inclination to look, simply wanting to end it all here and now, but with a heartfelt sigh brought herself around to see whether or not it was one last torment from her troubled mind.
It was not.
A figure did stand behind her, a dark cloak lined with a shimmering blood red fabric swirling majestically in the breeze. On her knees she fell slightly to the side, and looked up at the dark figure.
“I am true to my word, Sarah.”
Tears filled her eyes, that it was real, that she was not imagining things. Her clouded mind began to clear. “You’re him, aren’t you? You’re the Goblin King.” A smile raised the corner of his mouth, and he cocked his head to the side, resting a gloved hand upon his hip. Recognition of this strange person seemed to solidify him to her.
The tall, lean figure of the Goblin King sat back upon his haunches before her. Cold eyes looked deep into hers, one blue, one brown. “What a pity,” he said softly to himself. “Sarah, you do remember.”
“Then it was true? All of it?” Her brimming eyes pleaded with his.
“Yes. As is my word.”
“I – I don’t understand”. Confusion mixed with relief.
“I said I would be there for you, Sarah. As your world falls down, I’ll be there for you. And here I am.”
“What – what will you do?” she asked in a small voice.
The Goblin King raised himself up and looked down upon her. “I can make you better, Sarah. I can make you well again.” He offered his gloved hand to her. A silence hung between them. The sky was darkening rapidly as the sun set behind rain filled clouds. The clock in the belltower began to chime. “Do you trust me?”
A tear slid down Sarah’s cheek. She didn’t know what to do, only that she couldn’t stay here any longer. Her blood ran hot through her veins, humming with a strange fever. Her temples throbbed in time with her hand and a cold sweat sprang out along her body. It was time.
“Yes,” she lied, reaching out to take his hand.
(I) Whispers in the night
The world dipped and swayed as he pulled her to her feet. The light changed, and the wind smelled different. The throbbing in her head lessened to a dull aching. She brought her eyes up towards the light and drew in a small breath.
The Labyrinth.
It was as she had dreamed, as she had remembered it so long ago. As it had the first time she had viewed it from the hilltop, the sun slowly rising and spreading long fingers of shadow upon it's sprawling surface. Birds began to sing softly from the brush. Tears flowed from Sarah's eyes yet again. "It is real," she said softly affirming it to herself.
"As real as you and I, Sarah," came Jareth's voice from behind her. "Welcome home."
The words both elated and frightened Sarah. Was this to be her home? It was what she had wanted, wasn't it? Already she was feeling slightly better. She raised her injured hand to the light, the small bite wound that had turned to an ugly purple, that refused to heal, was now a reddish colour. The scent of peach blossoms drifted on the breeze, making her feel sleepy. She stepped forward and stumbled, catching herself. "What is wrong with me?" she asked.
Jareth's voice was at her ear, his head very close to hers. "All will be known in time. First now, you must rest." Sarah turned to face him. For a brief moment his face showed nothing but concern, yet it was quickly replaced by a smile that made Sarah's heart freeze. He held out his hand and a crystal sphere appeared. Within it was a miniature replica of the castle that lay at the heart of the Labyrinth, far in the distance. The castle within the sphere then grew, or Sarah shrank, she did not know which. All she knew was that she was now within the castle, in a bright room with a large canopied bed.
“Innona,” Jareth called. A servant lady came at his bidding from beside the door. “My guest is ill. See that she is better soon. Take the very best care of her.”
“Aye, my lord,” came the response. Jareth took one more look at Sarah, one that she did not comprehend. He nodded to himself and left them, the door shutting itself behind him. “My lady, you look most unwell. Come, lie down.” Sarah looked down into a fey face with twinkling pixie eyes. She was neither young nor old, and her skin had a strange mottled green appearance that was strikingly beautiful in the light. She took Sarah’s hand and led her to the bed. As she helped Sarah down onto the soft blankets she saw the injured hand. “That’s a nasty one,” she said. “I’ll make a fresh poultice to clean and lay upon that, and a tea for your fever. You’re burning up,” she said, but Sarah did not hear. She slept for the first time since she could remember in a long, long while, her mind finally at peace.
* * *
He sat in his throne room, surrounded by numerous goblins of all shapes and sizes, gazing into the crystal sphere that he held. Within it could be seen the sleeping form of Sarah, as she lay in an almost deathlike slumber. “Gather your strength, little girl,” he said. “You’ll need it later.” The goblins burst out laughing at his remark. “Be still!” he ordered. As one, goblin mouths clicked shut in frightened unison.
“Yes,” continued Jareth. “Sleep well, Sarah. You will need your strength soon enough. “ A wicked smile played across his handsome features. “As will I.” Silence followed this remark. “Well, laugh!” he said with exasperation to his subjects. Obediently, the throne room rang with the sound of goblin laughter.
* * *
Sarah awoke to a candlelit room. For a moment she was fearful until she remembered where she was. Her fear left, replaced by an uneasiness. She wasn’t sure whether or not she had done the right thing. She knew she could not have stayed that way any longer in the other world, with her strange sickness and memory failure. She felt physically better here, at least. She rolled up onto her elbows and looked at her hand where the faerie had bitten her. A bandage was wrapped around it. She slowly unwound it and looked beneath, it was healing quickly. She sat up and replaced the bandage, brushing the long dark hair that had come undone from it’s fasten away from her eyes.
Her head still hurt, but nothing like it had before. She let her gaze wander around the room, noting the opulent furnishings. She sat upon a rich canopied bed with red velvet drapes, held back by golden tassels. An ornate bedside table stood next to it, a gold candelabra upon it. She pulled the bedsheet aside and laid her feet upon a rich rug. She stood slowly, expecting the usual weakness that she had grown so accustomed to, and found to her surprise that it was easing, she was getting stronger. She arranged her rumpled gown and walked to where a large burnished mirror shone in the soft light upon its stand. She unfastened the clip that had held her long dark hair up from her neck and let the thick locks fall. She ran her fingers through her hair, then looked around for a brush. She found one next to a fancy vanity mirror with a matching velvet cushioned stool. She went over to it and sat down, pulling the brush through her hair until it shone.
The door to her room swung open slowly. She caught the movement from it out of her corner of her eye. She gently laid down the brush and turned towards her visitor.
Jareth entered the room, wearing a black riding jacket over grey hose and his usual tall black boots. He smiled as she rose slowly from where she sat. She stood where she was, unsure of what to do or say.
“I trust that you are feeling better?” he asked with casual detachment, standing near the doorway pulling up the cuff of his glove.
“Yes, a little,” she admitted.
Jareth strode into the room and stood in the center, looking at her with hands on hips. He gave Sarah that look that she despised, with his head cocked to one side and a sneer just waiting to make an appearance. “I was quite afraid for you,” he said.
“Because, you were very close to death you know. Had I not appeared I’m afraid you would have been lost to that river. You’re illness had taken hold of you completely, Sarah. You were lucky to escape.”
A small spark of anger ignited from some long forgotten place within Sarah’s soul. “You – you know of my illness?” Was he keeping yet more secrets from her?
Jareth closed his eyes briefly for a moment, as if already tired of the discussion. He began to walk towards her. “Yes, for one cannot be with the magic and remain unaffected. Think, Sarah,” he said, very close now, “of what has happened to you within my Labyrinth. You could not take that into your world without any repercussions. You have linked yourself to my Labyrinth, Sarah, whether you wanted to or no. You caused my world to fall Sarah, did you not think it would affect yours as well?”
Sarah was both angry and confused now. “I don’t understand!” she admitted.
“No, but you will, Sarah. I have shaped my Labyrinth to your liking, for your adventure, and you in turn denied it all in the end. The Labyrinth is real, though it is linked to the magic of imagination. It draws from that, it feeds off it. And you cut it off, Sarah. You starved me of the magic to keep the Labyrinth going, when it was tied to your own imagination and the magic that flows through you, as it flows through all of us. You could not cause the Labyrinth to crumble and not be unaffected by it, Sarah. You are the cause of your own illness.” He turned away from her and paced around the room, always looking back to her. It was as if he enjoyed seeing her reaction to his words and her confusion at them.
“It – it can’t be!” she said, not wanting to believe it but seeing the possibility.
“Yes it can, Sarah,” came his smooth voice. “You and I are linked to this Labyrinth, we are all its subjects. I do not deny or question the magic that lies within, and I have rebuilt this Labyrinth piece by piece. But you were alone in your world, and the magic still affecting you. I see the bite on your hand is healing well.”
She involuntarily looked at her bandaged hand. The throbbing pain had ceased. “Yes,” she admitted.
“Then you see?” he said. He walked towards her with an almost fevered gleam in his eyes. “It is working! Your world is connected to mine, you cannot lose a part of yourself and continue the way you were.” He stopped just before her and gave her a sideways glance. “You caused my world to fall, Sarah,” he said softly. “And yours fell with it”.
Sarah didn’t know what to say. It made sense to her, she believed it was possible, but yet held back. She still did not trust him, though he genuinely seemed to have helped her. But the look in his eyes warned every fibre of her being – this fey man was not to be trusted completely. She brought a hand up to her eyes, suddenly feeling dizzy. She still had not the strength yet.
“You are tired, I am sorry,” she heard him say. She opened her eyes to watch his back as he made his way to the door. “Rest well this night, we will talk on the morrow,” he said without turning. He did not look back as he went through the door that shut softly behind him. She gazed a while longer at the door, then looked to the bed. Just to rest my eyes, she thought. She had much to think about. She slept until dawn.
Sunlight across her eyes woke her. Curtains had been drawn back, and Sarah was momentarily blinded by the brilliant light. She brought a hand to shade her eyes and saw the little faerie creature, Innona, moving about the room. The servant lady noticed Sarah’s gaze and turned to her with a smile. “Tis a beautiful morn, mistress. Come over here, and we’ll find you something nice to wear today. Come along then,” she said at Sarah’s hesitancy. “The Master’s waiting downstairs for you.”
Sarah rose, feeling much stronger than the day before. Resignedly, she went to the large wardrobe where Innona waited patiently. Today she would be able to think, she would figure out what Jareth was up to, if anything. Doubt still clouded her mind but she pushed it aside for the moment. She felt she knew Jareth, and well enough not to believe that he had changed his ways these past three years.
“This one will do nicely,” Innona said, pulling a cream gown from the wardrobe with one hand, a green overdress in the other. She laid them upon a cushioned chair next to the wardrobe and beckoned Sarah forward. She obediently complied, and the servant lady turned her about and helped Sarah with the fastenings at the back of her gown. “What’s this thing here?” Innona said, tugging at Sarah’s zipper.
“It’s a zipper. The teeth bite together to fasten the back of the dress.”
“Marvellous thing!” Innona exclaimed. She helped Sarah out of her dress and into the gown. It was a pretty gown with a many layered skirt that had many folds within it. The sleeves stopped at her elbow, with a lace trim that hung halfway down her arm. Innona helped her place the overdress on top of the gown, and cinched up the corset at the back. When she finished she stepped back and nodded to herself.
“Right, sit down here and we’ll see to your hair.” She waved Sarah towards the vanity table. Sarah, unused to all the fussing, muttered something to herself about being able to brush her own hair, but it was tutted away by Innona. “Sit, sit, there we go.” The servant lady began to brush Sarah’s hair with gentle hands, then proceeded to braid sections with her nimble faerie fingers. She placed coils atop of Sarah’s head and arranged them in the latest fashion. “There!” she exclaimed.
Sarah looked in the mirror and could hardly believe it. She didn’t look anything like herself. Innona placed a powder puff and rouge in front of her. “Make yourself up now, dear, and I’ll take you down.” Sarah obliged and powdered her face, applying a tiny amount of rouge to her cheeks and lips. She had to admit that it made her look healthier. Meanwhile Innona arranged the bed linens. When she was done she turned around and clapped her hands together. “You are a vision my lady!” said breathed, pure joy expressing itself upon her mottled green face. “Let’s get you down into the hall now.”
Sarah followed the little lady out of the room. She found herself in a large, long corridor lit by a window at the end and torches spaced along the length in sturdy iron brackets. A set of stairs wound downwards at the other end of the corridor, and they began their descent.
Sarah felt a dogged determination steel through her to find out what the Goblin King was up to this time. She did not wholly believe his story but as yet could find no fault nor flaw with it. There was time yet, she thought grimly. The fire had crept back into her eyes and her chin jutted defiantly as she set her jaw.
The stairway brought them down into a larger corridor. They turned right and followed it to the very end to a large double door. Great grinning doorknockers leered down at them. Sarah wondered if these too could speak, but was hastened through by Innona.
Sunlight gleamed through large windows, casting the room in a wondrous soft golden glow. Silhouetted against one of the large windows was Jareth, his light hair gleaming and hands clasped behind his back as he looked out over his kingdom. He turned as he heard the movement into the room, and for a moment he seemed very real to Sarah, not frightening or intimidating or jesting cruelly but a true man, a real Jareth without the mask. Then his slow, sardonic smile crept up one corner of his mouth, and his eyes hardened. “You are better this morning?” he asked.
Sarah was momentarily surprised by this small lack of insight but recovered quickly. She drew herself up and squared her shoulders. “Yes, thank you,” she said stiffly.
Amusement played across Jareth’s handsome features. “Very well. Come, sit and eat with me.” He waved a gloved hand to a long table where two places had been set near one end. He pulled out a chair for Sarah at her place, and then seated himself at the head.
Innona had already left the room and came bustling back in without Sarah’s notice. She placed a plate of summer fruits and berries before Sarah and a goblet before Jareth. The little servant then went to the doors and bowed before taking her leave.
“Please,” said Jareth, motioning to her food.
Sarah cleared her throat before speaking. “I seem to remember the last time I ate something in the Labyrinth I woke up in a junkyard,” she said haughtily.
Jareth’s eyes narrowed. “I am on your side now, Sarah,” he said simply.
Sarah didn’t know what to do. What she had been expecting was a confrontation, this quiet statement had taken her by surprise. She regrouped her thoughts, determined to see the evil she knew existed. “Why? Why are you on my side?” she asked with an air of disbelief.
Jareth closed his eyes for a moment, as if in exasperation. “Sarah,” he said, opening them and looking right into her eyes, “We are not fighting over a child any longer. I am not your enemy. I am trying to help you. I wish for you to be well again. So that you may find your own path within my world. I would show you a life you have never known. Know that you may leave me and my castle at any time, you are not a prisoner but a guest. And be well again.”
Sarah grasped what little she could, hoping to see some false reaction. “I may leave whenever I wish?”
Jareth simply smiled and nodded.
Jareth’s smile faded ever so slightly. “I would not want you to,” he said, seeing Sarah’s triumphant smile, “but I will not stop you.” Sarah’s smile faded at this last remark. Jareth leaned over the table towards her. “This world is as dangerous as any other Sarah, and I would have you wise to its ways before I set you upon it. I can teach you much that you do not know, if you will have me.” He sat back and took a long drink from his goblet. “Call it honour to an enemy if it makes you feel better,” he said, smirking into his goblet.
“That is not the reason why!” Sarah said angrily.
Jareth put down his goblet, the smirk now gone from his face. His handsome features grew solemn. “No, that is not the reason. Sarah, as I stated last night, our worlds are linked through the magic of imagination. I can bring you your dreams. The Labyrinth was created out of dreams and made into reality. You are a part of the Labyrinth, some of it was drawn from your imagination and yours alone. That is why you fell ill in your world, Sarah, a part of you was left here where you denied it. You will thrive here, you can grow here, you can become whatever you wish and go wherever your heart pleases. But you must learn the dangers first. I would not see you wasted and at death’s door in your world and in danger in mine.”
Sarah stared at her plate as she took this in. He did sound genuinely concerned for her. She didn’t feel much like a prisoner either. Still, she thought, there is only one way to test that. She vowed to try later. “Very well. I know I cannot go back to my parents and Toby, I know that the magic of the Labyrinth would do things to me that upsets the balance in my world. I accept that. But I don’t know what I will do here.”
“Here,” Jareth said slowly and with relish, “You have all the time in the world to decide.” He leaned back and watched her for a moment, then sat up and quickly placed his now empty goblet upon the table. “I must go.” He said, rising in one swift, smooth motion. He adjusted his jacket and motioned once more to her plate. “Please eat, you will never get better at this rate.” He walked to the door and turned just before it. “You might try and trust me,” he said, then pulled open the doors and left. Sarah heard his bootsteps clicking down the long corridor.
She let out a long breath and relaxed slightly. She picked up a berry and examined it closely, sniffing it and turning it this way and that to see if it looked at all enchanted. It didn’t. Neither did the peach she ate three years ago. She looked around the room to make sure she wasn’t being watched and popped the berry into her mouth. Nothing happened. No floating bubbles or ballroom dancers came into the dining room, just a sweet red berry whose juices flooded her mouth. She poured herself some water from a crystal decanter and finished off the rest of her plate. It was only then she wondered why Jareth hadn’t eaten a thing. She looked for the goblet that he had drunk from, but it had disappeared.
* * *
“You’ve gained your strength quickly, Jareth. Even after defeat at the hands of a mere girl.” The beautiful face in the crystal sphere was marred forever by cruel malice. “But the time is now ripe. You shunned the Court for a mortal, you would have given her everything she wanted. We know of your weaknesses and we shall destroy you.”
Jareth smiled. “Akarra, my dear, your dramatics ever become you. I shunned not the Court for the reason that you think, as I have already told you. The Court has shunned me. But it may surprise you to learn that my supposed weakness is a prisoner within my walls, forever now bound to my world. And I have a limitless supply of power - my magics will defeat whatever course of action you wish to take.”
The woman’s face grew dark with rage. “Do not lie to me! We saw you and the mortal together, we know of your intentions! And we will not have it!” The face quickly composed itself. “The Court will not take the risk to itself and the world. Your Labyrinth is your only defence. Defend it as well as you can Jareth, for you are now at war.”
Jareth’s eyes grew cold. “You would truly declare war against one of your own? Do you know the implications of such an act?”
“Well I do, Goblin King. I have the pleasure of formally declaring war upon your kingdom.”
Jareth gave her a wicked smile. “And I have the pleasure of formally accepting.”
(III) Of sunlight and shadows
“Have you finished, dear?” Innona asked, appearing at her elbow.
“Yes, thank you,” she said.
The little faerie woman took her plate. “Good, you look better already! Master said you might like to see the gardens?”
Gardens? thought Sarah. She supposed she could try her plan there. “Yes. Yes I would. Thank you.”
The little servant lady nodded and beckoned for her to follow. She went halfway down the corridor and stopped, looking at one of the torch brackets. She looked to Sarah. “If you could, please.”
“Take that torch and turn it to the left..” Sarah realised that the little faerie woman couldn’t reach, and so she grabbed the torch in it’s bracket and turned. “That’s right. No, left. Right.” A door appeared in the wall, which sunk back and slid sideways. Innona waved Sarah through. Once on the other side, she pressed a stone panel within reach and winked conspiratorially. “He keeps this quiet,” she said in a low voice, looking around to see that no one overheard. “He don’t want no goblins coming in and ruining the place.” She pushed open a wooden door and waved Sarah through.
The warm morning sun fell fully upon her face. The air smelled of green things, and the sound of a fountain trickled just out of sight. Birdsong called all around her and bees hummed happily in the rosebush next to her. She took in a deep draught of air and smiled. “It’s beautiful,” she said.
“Aye, Master does like the finer things,” Innona said. “I’ll just do a bit of tidying up in here while you have a walkabout. Go on, go on now. Don’t waste the morning!” And with that the little faerie woman disappeared into the rows of hedges and flowerbeds.
Sarah slowly walked the many paths that twisted and wound round the garden. It was walled on three sides, the fourth the castle wall from whence she had emerged. The sun warmed the walls and made it a very comfortable place. Unfortunately, the walls were just high enough that she could not see what lay on the other side. She saw no possibility of trying her escape here. She sighed, leaning against the warm stone wall. It was lovely here, just like a faerytale. She wandered amongst the flowers, walking each and every path. It felt good to be outside. When she tired of this she went back to the door.
Innona appeared at her side. “Mistress will be wanting to leave then?” she asked, turning her mottled face up towards Sarah’s.
“Yes, thank you. The gardens were lovely.”
“Aye, that they are. That they are. Master said you might also like the view from the battlements.”
“Yes,” thought Sarah. She might see an escape route that way. “I would very much like to see them.”
“This way,” the little lady said, taking her back through the door.
Sarah’s mind pondered possible ways of testing Jareth’s supposed freedom but she decided she would have to wait until she saw the battlements. She needed to explore this castle a bit more as well. She paid special attention to the corridors they travelled, the twists and turns and stairwells in a vain attempt to memorise certain routes. The inside of the castle was as much of a labyrinth as outside the castle walls. They climbed and climbed stair after stair. When they finally reached the top Sarah was glad for it, and paused to catch her breath. She looked enviously at the little faerie woman, who wasn’t even breathing hard. The little green face turned back to her. “You’re still recovering, dear,” she said patting Sarah’s arm sympathetically.
They turned and ducked through a low lintel and found themselves out on the battlements. The wind blew around them. Sarah walked towards the edge of the wall and looked down. Her stomach dipped slightly at the height but she stayed where she was. She could see the Labyrinth stretching out for endless miles from the battlements, and the copper hills that lay behind it. The sun made the view hazy in the distance, but she remembered the bracken and twisted trees that covered those hills. Beyond she could see nothing.
She walked along the battlements with Innona trailing behind her. She looked for ways down the battlements but they were built of huge stone blocks that had been smoothed and polished. No handholds or footholds could be seen, not even ivy clung to its sheer surface. There was no escape this way.
When Sarah had completed a circuit, she stopped and wearily turned to Innona. “Thank you, I’ve seen enough,” she said.
The little faerie woman nodded. “Master said you’d be wanting a rest after your morning,” she said.
“Master seems to know everything in advance, doesn’t he?” she murmured to herself.
Innona had heard. “That’s why he’s the Master,” she agreed, nodding sagely. “Come, I’ll take you back to your room.” The servant lady started towards the low opening in the castle wall.
“Innona,” Sarah called her back. “I think I might try it on my own.”
Something flashed behind the little woman’s eyes. “The castle can be quite difficult, my lady,” she said. “I’d be feared that you would become lost.”
“I will find my own way back. Thank you, Innona.” The little servant hesitated. Sarah decided it was time to be in charge. “You are dismissed.”
The faerie woman left at that, and Sarah could hear her footsteps as she descended the many stairs. She was sorry to be so strict with the little woman who had helped her but she felt it was necessary in order to spend the time alone she needed to think. She went to the battlement edge once more and sat leaning against one of the stone blocks. She was more tired than she cared to admit.
The sun was at its full height and began to beat down upon her mercilessly. She began to sweat underneath her dress and decided she should find some shade at least. Her vision wobbled slightly as she raised her head and she felt faint. She put her head down between her knees and hoped that she wouldn’t.
A shadow fell across her, cooling her skin. She slowly raised her head and looked up to see Jareth standing before her. He looked concerned. “Are you feeling ill, Sarah?”
“Just a little dizzy,” she replied, not wanting him to see her like this.
“You might feel better inside. Let me help you.” He held a gloved hand out to her. She took it and he lifted her to her feet. He held out his arm and she took it, leaning upon him as he helped her inside the cool castle walls and down the stairs. They silently made their way back to her chamber. At her door, Jareth stopped. “Please, if you need anything, just say my name. I can help you, Sarah, if you will allow me.”
Sarah nodded wearily. Jareth stood before her for a breath or two, then turned and walked away. She pushed open the door to her room leaned it shut once on the other side. She stayed there for a moment, her eyes tired and her hand beginning to throb once more. The bed looked inviting. She pulled off her overdress and climbed onto the bed, falling asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.
* * *
“And how is the girl, Innona?” Jareth asked. He sat lazily upon his throne, one leg draped over the arm as he inspected his ornate silver tipped walking stick.
“She seems to be recovering well, my lord, but it will be a few days before she is at full strength.”
“Is there no way to speed the healing?” he asked with annoyance.
“I am afraid not, my lord, her body heals itself at it’s own pace, even here.”
“I want her to regain her strength no later than the day after tomorrow. Tomorrow if possible. Give her a healing draught or a potion or something,” he said, waving his hand. “As long as she is ready for me.”
“Aye, my lord, I will do what I can.”
“And more,” he said.
(IV) A memory of a dream
Sarah awoke to see that it was now late afternoon. She sat up, feeling slightly better. A memory tugged at the edges of her thought but remained just out of reach. Innona then entered the room and smiled at her. Looking at the little servant lady reminded Sarah of something, of someone, but her memory would not heed. Images came to her all mixed together as they had been for the past year - a faerie falling to the earth, an old man sleeping on a stone chair, a dog on a park bench and a tube of red lipstick. Her hand was still sore, and she thought of the faerie, faeries falling to earth, faeries that had been playing outside the castle walls where, where… someone had been gardening. She could not bring to mind the memory of the gardener. She felt tired trying.
“Let’s have a look at your hand, dear,” Innona said. Sarah swung her legs over the edge of the bed and held her hand out for inspection. The faerie woman undid the bandage and turned it this way and that in the light. “Still a little bit of infection there,” she said. “I’ll make you a nice tea that will help that.” Sarah looked at the little lady but she still was inspecting the hand. “You could do with a fresh poultice too. I’ll bring those up quick as I can, my lady, if you’ll wait here.”
Sarah nodded when the little lady looked up at her for confirmation. Innona nodded back and quickly left the room. She stood up and walked over to the burnished mirror. Her face had regained some colour, though the dark circles remained under her eyes. She tidied the stray bits that had come loose from her coils and pulled on her overdress. She sat on the window ledge overlooking the eastern edge of the Labyrinth and emptied her thoughts. It was nice to be here, she thought. Nice to not have the fever, to not have to worry about parents and her brother and the real world. Living here might not be so bad, she thought. It seemed like quite a pleasant place.
“Things are not always what they seem in this place.” The little voice popped into her thoughts. A worm, thought Sarah, a talking worm. The memory became clear, if short. “So, you can’t take anything for granted,” she said softly.
At that point Innona returned with a laden tray. She popped it upon the bedside table and poured the tea, humming softly to herself. When finished, she waved Sarah forward. “Come along and drink up, you’ll feel better.”
Sarah sat a moment longer, still trying to recall why the strange saying had any meaning to her. She shook her head to clear it and obediently went over to the bed. She sat upon the edge holding her teacup. She raised it to her lips, then thought better of it. “What exactly is in this tea?” she asked the little faerie woman suspiciously.
“A brew to make you better of course,” she replied, applying the poultice to bandages from the tray.
“Yes, but what exactly is in it?” Sarah repeated doggedly.
“Oh, herbs from various plants that have healing properties. I am in charge of growing them,” she added proudly.
Sarah sighed. She was not getting anywhere. She looked at the tea and decided she might as well drink it. The first batch had made her feel better. “Where is it grown?” she asked between sips.
“In the garden of course.”
“Aye, that’s the one.”
Sarah vowed she would have a closer look at the garden, though she knew not at that moment how to identify the strange plants that grew within it. All she knew was that she had to do something. And something to do with gardening.
She finished the tea and slumped on the bed, feeling much more relaxed. Her hand stopped throbbing and she felt less shaky. “Come, let’s change that bandage and then you can see the Master for dinner.” Sarah held out her hand and watched the top of the little woman’s head as she deftly changed the bandages. She felt more at ease and stronger as well. When the servant lady had finished Sarah smiled at her.
“Thank you, Innona. You are truly skilled.”
The little lady blushed a deeper shade of green at the praise. “Let’s get you changed for dinner now,” was all she said.
They went over to the wardrobe where Innona selected a gown of russet and gold. She helped Sarah out of her other dress and into the new one. The sleeves brushed the stone floor of her chamber as she turned about to look in the mirror. “Here,” said Innona, “wear these with it.” She pulled a pair of burgundy slippers from the wardrobe. Sarah took off her leather suede shoes and put the new ones on. A perfect fit.
“One last thing,” the little lady said. She reached up on tiptoe to pull a golden coronet from a shelf. Sarah took it from her hands and placed it upon her head. How regal she looked!
“Master knew you’d be needing clothes. He does what he can, I don’t rightly know how, but he does. Now, you look splendid. Let’s get you downstairs so you can have something to eat.” She ushered Sarah out of the room before she could utter any more protests.
The dining hall was lit by a beautiful many-tiered chandelier. Torches in sconces lined the walls as well, with candles running the whole length of the massive wooden table. A harp stood in one corner upon a pedestal, playing all by itself. Sarah looked around but Jareth was not there. “Come and sit by here until the Master arrives,” said Innona. She directed Sarah to the corner of the room where the harp played, surrounded by lavishly stuffed chairs and pillows scattered about. Sarah took a seat on a chair and looked around as Innona left her.
The harp played a strange, melancholy melody. Sarah got up and stood before it, wondering at the magic that allowed it to play itself. The curve of the harp had a young girl carved into it, her mouth open in song and clad in flowers that flowed down the length of the wood. It was very beautiful, thought Sarah, but the girl seemed also very sad.
She turned away and walked around the room, taking in the furnishings. A large tapestry lay along one wall depicting some sort of hunt, with elven looking people on white horses chasing a white hart that glowed in the trees. She looked closer at the hunters, and with a start realised that one of them looked very much like Jareth. She peered closer, noting the features that were so alike. Yet this Jareth seemed younger somehow, more carefree. The cynical smile was nowhere to be seen and he looked full of life. Sarah reached out to touch the tapestry when the doors to the dining hall opened. She turned around quickly and clasped her hands before her.
Jareth entered, looking about the room for her. When his eyes settled on her he started for a moment. Sarah looked around to make sure that no one was standing beside her, for his reaction was so strange. She looked back at him but he was already smiling.
“I trust that you are healing quickly under Innona’s care?” he asked, coming towards her.
“Yes, she is very helpful,” Sarah replied carefully.
Jareth walked right up to her and held out his hand. His eyes gleamed. Sarah took it and he led her to the table. He pulled a chair out for her before seating himself. Innona then entered, bearing a tray with a crystal decanter and a goblet. Behind her were two goblins carrying more trays, laden with food. They placed the food upon the table at Innona’s direction as she poured the liquid from the decanter into a goblet, placing it before Jareth. She then took a plate and filled it with the choicest morsels and lay them before Sarah with a smile. “Eat well,” she said, patting Sarah’s arm. “You’re too thin.” After voicing this motherly concern she curtseyed to the Goblin King and left them, trailing the other two goblin servants behind her.
“Would you care for some wine, Sarah?” Jareth asked as he poured her a glass from a different decanter already upon the table. She couldn’t politely refuse, and thanked him. “And are things to your satisfaction here?” he asked, raising his goblet to his lips.
“Yes, thank you.” Sarah didn’t know what to say. She still felt like an awkward little girl around the Goblin King. His presence was always unnerving at best, and being social with him was even stranger. She gathered her courage and spoke. “I see that you are not eating again.”
Jareth lowered his goblet and looked aside. “I do not eat at usual times, my dear. And I do not need much.” He looked into his goblet. “Is the music to your liking?” he asked, changing the subject.
“Yes. That is a most – unusual harp.”
“It was a gift from a passing minstrel,” he replied. “It will play any song you desire.”
Sarah doubted that it knew any Sarah Maclachlan or Bare Naked Ladies but decided to give it a try. “Does it know ‘One Week’?”
In response the harp began to play the tune perfectly, with crisp clear notes. Sarah was amazed. When the song finished, she asked with wide eyes “How did it know?”
Jareth looked amused. “Anything is possible,” he said.
Sarah didn’t know what to say to that so she picked up her knife and fork. The food was delicious. The salted pork made her thirsty however so she drank the offered wine. It was light and fruity and tasted ever so slightly of peaches. Sarah ate with an appetite as Jareth refilled her empty glass. The music played on softly.
When she was done she sat back, well contented and rather sleepy. Jareth sat and drank from his goblet seeming preoccupied. Sarah finished off the rest of her glass in the silence. When she put the glass down Jareth seemed to come out of his reverie. “Well,” he said with a smile, “was it to your satisfaction?”
“Yes, and again my thanks.”
“None are needed, Sarah.”
Sarah was getting rather sleepy, but she doggedly remained awake to find some answers to her questions. “I still don’t understand why you are doing all of this for me,” she said.
Jareth finished off his goblet. “Why do I need a reason, Sarah?” he asked with a smile.
“Because, because – it just doesn’t seem like you,” she said without thought. Her mind wasn’t quite up to speed she realised after all that food and wine. After all he had already done for her! She sat back fearfully and awaited the repercussions of this statement.
But again he surprised her. “Does it not?” he said mildly, looking away. “I suppose to you it doesn’t. But then, how well do we really know each other, Sarah?”
Sarah thought that she knew him, but seeing this different side of him made her doubt her summations.
“I – I’m not sure really,” she said. “Only that things seems different now.”
Jareth swirled the liquid around in the bottom of his goblet. “Things are very different now, Sarah,” he said. “The Labyrinth changes all the time, that is its only constant. But I fear soon that it may change forever, and be utterly destroyed.”
Jareth rose and walked to the tapestry with his hands clasped behind his back. “There is more to the Labyrinth than you know, Sarah. It is old, very old, but older things live still. The Labyrinth was my creation, my home. I built it out of a barren wasteland, brining life to a place that was without. But beyond the Labyrinth, beyond the hills in the distance there are other kingdoms, other courts. They have been jealous of my Labyrinth since it began but now they are taking action. They wish to rule the Labyrinth but they cannot, for it is my creation. If I am no longer king of this land it cannot exist. It will sicken and die, as you began to sicken and die in your own world. If I could not bear to see it happen to you,” he said, turning to her. “How could I bear to see it happen to my Labyrinth?”
Sarah sat in shocked silence for a moment. “But who are these people?” she finally asked.
“The Court of the Fae. You have met them before, Sarah, in my ballroom. They have declared war against my Labyrinth. I must fight back, I must protect my home and all those within these lands.”
“I – I had no idea.” The thought of the Labyrinth and everything in it dying seemed horrifying to her. It was important that the Labyrinth survived, people dear to her lived here. People dear to her? she thought. Well, she supposed, Innona was dear to her, in a way, and she was grateful to Jareth for rescuing her and saving her life. “Is there anything I can do to help?” she asked.
Jareth turned back to face the tapestry, hiding a triumphant smile. “I know not,” he said. “I admit that you have immense power over the Labyrinth, for much of it was created from your imagination. But I know not what you can do to help.” He turned back to her. “I will think on this though, perhaps you might save the Labyrinth where I cannot.” He turned and walked to the door. “I will have Innona take you back to your chamber, Sarah. I have many preparations to make. I regret that I cannot spare you any more time.” With that he left the room. Sarah sat and waited for Innona, thinking on his words as the harp played on.
* * *
Jareth thought a trip to the dungeons would boost his already high spirits. The guard let him in and walked alone down the long corridor. In the deepest, darkest cell at the furthest end of the corridor he stopped. He unlocked the door took a torch from it’s bracket to light the interior of the tiny stone cell.
On the floor in a corner lay a limp and lifeless bundle of rags. Jareth placed the torch in a bracket by the door and walked over to it. He nudged it with his boot, when it didn’t respond he kicked it harder. A moan of pain sounded and the figure lifted its head. In the dim light of the torch the prisoner’s features were twisted with pain.
“Hello, Hoggle.”
(V) Hidden Truths
Sarah thanked the little faerie woman and closed the door to her chamber. She was still shocked to find that the Labyrinth was in such danger. And to see this side of Jareth – one where he cared for his kingdom and those within it. Perhaps she didn’t know him as well as she thought. The figure in the tapestry kept coming to mind, of a younger Jareth, a princely young man. She surmised that it must be him, with others of the Faerie Court. But how had it come to this? And what could she do to help?
Her head began to swim with all this new information. Feeling dizzy she went to the bed and sat down. Innona had left her a pot of tea once again by her bedside. She poured herself a cup of the healing brew and sipped it slowly. To see Jareth as the good guy! But he had been so cruel to her, to others. And yet, she thought, who had he been cruel to? He treated Innona respectfully, as a good lord to a servant. He had been kind to her, and had rescued her. But why did she feel he had been cruel to others? He was trying to save the Labyrinth, and all those within it. Yes, he had taken her little brother, but she had wished him away. It had been her fault. But why did she feel she knew others in the Labyrinth? Was her mind still playing tricks? She shook her head to clear it.
She drank her tea down and, feeling better, walked to her window where she saw the moon rising from beyond the hills. There lay the outside kingdoms of the Fae, who threatened the Labyrinth. She may not know many who dwelt within the Labyrinth, but it was a noble cause. She had to help save it. By the light of the rising moon she vowed to help the Goblin King in any way she could. It was the right thing to do.
* * *
“It is soon time, Hoggle,” the silky voice purred from the shadows. Hoggle looked up but could not see the face of the Goblin King, it was shadowed by the weak light of the torch. How he hated that face, that face that had come to torment him these past three years. Three years? Had he really been in here for that long? Three years, a lifetime, it made little difference. All he knew was pain and discomfort, and that mocking voice that enjoyed it so much. Such was the price one paid for treachery.
“You are of little worth to me now Hoggle,” Jareth continued. “She does not even remember you, the cruel girl. She doesn’t know, she doesn’t care. She sits in the dining hall above in fine clothes eating rich food while you starve down here in your own filth. The friendship that you thought you had was all a lie, and now she has what she wants. A cruel twist indeed.”
Hoggle shook his head, he did not want to believe it. He didn’t. He couldn’t. It was the only thing keeping him alive.
“She is ready to aid me in any way she can, Hoggle. So you see, keeping you alive is really unnecessary for very much longer.” The figure in the shadows moved closer and knelt down to look into the little prisoner’s eyes. “We are very much alike, the girl and I. And soon we will rule the world.” The Goblin King stood and left, taking the torch with him. His boots rang down the long corridor as the light faded.
In the darkness Hoggle wept.
* * *
Sarah awoke that morning at dawn. The gardens, she thought. I must see the gardens again. Why, she could not remember, only that it was important. She slipped an overdress over her nightgown and crept quietly out of the chamber. She padded down the silent corridors in bare feet, the castle still abed. She found the staircase and began the long climb.
At the top of the stairs was the door, and she pushed it open, praying that it would not creak. Her prayers answered, she slipped through and pulled it shut behind her. She drifted silently past the rosebush and stopped dead in her tracks. She had heard a voice coming from beyond the next hedgerow. She crouched down and held her breath, listening.
Slowly she inched her way along until she could see the figure standing in the center of the garden. It was Jareth, and he was singing.
Sarah strained to hear the words, but he sang in a strange tongue that she had never heard before. He was bathed in a glowing light, though the sun had not yet risen over the high walls of the garden yet. Sarah could hear the power in his voice, a power that was old and eldritch. It seemed to her then that she could hear other voices joining in, though he stood alone. A long lament was being sung as the sun heralded a new day. The glow around Jareth brightened until Sarah could not bear it anymore and looked away. The sound stopped, and when she turned back Jareth had disappeared.
“Sarah.” His voice appeared at her elbow. She cried out and jumped. Jareth stood behind her, the cynical smile leering at her. “Can I help you?”
“I – I – what was that?” Sarah’s heart was in her throat, making it hard to speak, let alone think.
“Magic, of course,” he said. The smile slowly faded and his eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “Why do you ask?”
“It is old, far older than you. You have never heard the like, and I pray you never hear it again.” A strange, almost sad look came into his eyes, though the smile returned. “That was The Declaration of War, Sarah. The Fae have called and have sung to me as the sun rose, and I have answered it. It has not been sung amongst the Court for two thousand years.”
“Then, then the war has started, hasn’t it?” Sarah asked, fearful.
Jareth nodded. “The world is about to change, Sarah.”
* * *
The faeries trembled amongst the flowers at the edge of the Labyrinth. The goblins cowered in fear. Trolls, elves, pixies and all manner of creatures that lived within the Labyrinth heard the song, and knew fear, the song humming within their fey blood. In his dark cell, Hoggle shook with it. The Court of the Fae was going to war against them. Jareth was taking them to war.
* * *
“I am ready to help you in any way I can,” said Sarah, looking up at Jareth with fierce determination.
The Goblin King gave her a long look. “Sarah,” he said, coming close to her. “You are helping. Don’t you see?” He put his hand on her shoulder and whispered in her ear. “Just by being here, just by being with me, you are helping. You give me strength, Sarah. In you I see what the Labyrinth could be, what I am fighting for. You are my inspiration, Sarah.”
Sarah looked down as he spoke to her, slightly uncomfortable at his closeness but a newfound joy springing from inside her at his words. What did it all mean? Was he implying feelings for her? Could it be? And if so, could she return them? Gratitude welled within her, that such a man could possibly have feelings for her, when all else seemed dark and despairing. Her knight in shining armour had rescued her, it was like she had always imagined it, just not with the Goblin King! But the faerytale, the faerytale had come true! She had always found him handsome, yes, but now she knew him, knew him for much more than the Goblin King. Sarah looked up at him in the golden light spilling through the dining hall window, her eyes brimming with tears. “But – I, I wish to do more! Tell me what I must do and I will do it!”
Jareth smiled and said “Get well. That is all I wish you to do. The war will come within the fortnight. We have time for you to regain your strength and then we may consider the aid you could bring. But I will not risk you and your health, you are too important. To me,” he added, gazing deep into her eyes. Something moved behind his eyes, something Sarah did not recognise. She hesitated slightly before she spoke.
“Then I will,” she said.
* * *
After they had broken their fast, Jareth left Sarah to rest under Innona’s care, telling the servant lady to bring some more tea. He then went to his chamber, humming the light-hearted tune that Sarah had requested the harp play the day before. Rather catchy, he thought to himself. He energetically pushed open the double doors and swept into the room. He took off his vest and unbuttoned his shirt, casually tossing the items onto the massive four poster iron bed frame. He walked over to his clothespress and carefully selected another shirt, with embellished sleeves and golden embroidery at the cuff and throat. He pulled it on, not bothering to button it and walked to the window. He sat upon the sill, the morning sun warm upon his skin. His triscellion pendant gleamed upon his breast.
“Your Highness!” A goblin guard appeared at the door.
“Yes,” replied Jareth, not moving from his perch.
“What of him?” Jareth asked mildly.
“Heavens, well we should send out the entire compliment of guard then,” the Goblin King replied sarcastically. “If one fox is such an upset!”
“Yes, my lord!” the goblin said, turning back to the corridor.
“Wait,” Jareth said in the most world weary tone.
“Get back here.”
“Yes, my lord.”
Jareth beckoned the guard forward. He hesitantly took a few steps. The Goblin King waved him forward again, step by step until he was right before the window ledge whence he sat. He bent down and grabbed the little guard’s shoulder and whispered conspiratorially to him. “Shoot him.”
“Yes. Shoot him. Shoot him full of arrows.”
“Yes, my lord.”
Jareth released him and watched him run out of the room and down the corridor. How nice it was when old friends turned up unexpectedly at your door.
* * *
Sir Didymus waited underneath the flag of parley. War had been declared and as a knight of the realm he dutifully attended the King, though he didn’t much care for him, bit of an odd fellow really but a King nonetheless. The Lady Sarah had fought against him previously and she had emerged victorious. But Sir Didymus had to live in the Labyrinth, and when he had heard the call to war at dawn this very day he knew his duty.
When more and more goblin heads appeared over the wall to gape at the little knight and his loyal steed, Ambrosius began to fidget uneasily. “Steady, boy,” Sir Didymus said to him. The trembling sheepdog beneath him began to back away slowly from the wall. “Steady, remember Ambrosius, we are under the flag of truce. They cannot hurt us,” the little knight said confidently.
An arrow whizzed past them. Ambrosius barked and turned away, running full tilt. Another arrow embedded itself in Sir Didymus’ hat. “But I’m on your side!” the valiant knight shouted as he was borne away to safety by his faithful steed.
(VI) Of suspicion and trust
“Sarah, help me!”
Sarah awoke to those words, ringing in her head. Images of a dark and cold place lay just beyond waking memory. A nightmare? she thought. She rolled over and saw the steaming pot of tea on the bedside table. She automatically reached for the cup, then stopped herself. She still didn’t know what was in the tea. She remembered suspicions of the day before, but she didn’t know what to make of them in the light of Jareth’s new affection for her. The dream still hovered around her, troubling her. She looked long at the cup and then rose from the bed, taking it to the window. She pushed open the pane and looked down, making sure that nothing or no one was below and emptied the contents of the cup. She watched as it fell down, landing on a small courtyard tree far below.
The door to her room opened and Innona came bustling through. She saw Sarah standing at the window with the cup. “How are you this afternoon?” the little lady asked.
Sarah pretended to drain the cup. “Very well, thank you.” she replied. She smiled and handed the cup to the servant’s outstretched hand.
“Would you like to see the rest of the castle, my lady?” the faerie woman asked.
“Yes, yes that would be very nice. May I spend some time in the dining hall first, to listen to the harp?”
“Certainly, dear. Come now, let’s get you dressed.” She chose yet another gown of deep blue and silver for Sarah to wear, with matching slippers. She dressed Sarah’s hair again, fastening silver ribbons in amongst the coils. Sarah made herself up slowly, feeling more tired than before she had lain down, but resolved not to show it. There must be something in the tea, she thought as she applied powder to her face. And I’m not sure it’s all health and healing properties.
As she applied a touch of rouge to her cheeks and lips she thought on her suspicions. She had been very wary of Jareth when she had first arrived back at the Labyrinth, and those suspicions slowly dissolved under Jareth’s attention and Innona’s care. Was she being frightfully ungrateful? She would go this one day without the tea, without drinking anything or eating anything that might affect her. She still remembered the peach. At the very least, she still remembered that. And she had a plan.
When she was finished she followed the little servant lady to the dining room. There she sat upon a cushion before the harp. “Innona, may I have some time alone to listen to the harp?” she asked.
The little lady smiled. “Of course, dear. When you are ready to leave just ring that bell over there, and I’ll take you back to your room.”
“Thank you, Innona,” she said. She watched and waited as the fey creature left the room. She turned to the harp, touching it lightly. So sad, it seemed. “The Lady of Shallot,” Sarah requested, thinking of the longest song that she knew. She needed the music to cover any sound. “Followed by every Santana song you know.” That should keep it busy for an age, she thought!
She went swiftly to the door and carefully opened it. She peered down the hall to either side. At one end she saw Innona walking away, chatting to a goblin guard. Sarah took her chance as the servant lady’s back was to her and quietly pulled the door shut behind her. She took off her slippers, should they make any noise and, with a last glance at the two figures down at the other end she ran silently down the corridor, slippers in hand. She didn’t stop until she had rounded a corner, hoping that no one was there. She was lucky, it was empty. She peered around the bend and saw the two just turning around the far corner. She had made it to the first stage of her plan. Now she needed some stairs.
At the end of her corridor was a flight of stairs that continued upwards or downwards. Clutching her slippers to her she began to descend, the stone flags cold beneath her feet. The staircase twisted round and round as she went down, corridors branching off at every which way. When she could go no further she turned into one and had a look around.
No windows showed in this corridor, so she guessed she might be below ground. The air was chill. Sarah shivered as she made her way down the passage, similar to that in her dream. She should be near the dungeons by now. It ended at a door with a large brass ring. She pressed her ear to the door to see if she could hear anyone on the other side. Silence answered.
She chewed on her lip for a moment. What if someone was on the other side? She leaned against the wall, unbelievably tired. Perhaps she should have had just a sip of that tea… no. A clear head is what she needed.
The voice in her dream had come from a deep, dark place. She must be near that place now. She had to put her mind at ease before she could return to Jareth. A chill current of air swept down the corridor and again Sarah smelled the ever so faint aroma of peaches ripening in the sun. That fragrance soothed her, told her that she was just being a silly girl.
She shook her head. She’d find out soon enough. She nodded to herself and slowly pushed the door open.
Not three inches from the doorjam sat a goblin, sleeping in his chair. Sarah eased past him and closed the door behind her. She saw a large keyring hanging from his belt, but decided not to take it. She didn’t want to risk discovery. Besides, she didn’t really know if anyone was here, she thought.
Chillbumps stood out upon her bared shoulders as she made her way down into the darkness. She plucked the last torch from it’s bracket and headed down further into the cold and musty place. When she reached the end of the passageway she found an iron bound door with a lock on it. Iron bars protected a small gap in the door, where she could see inside. She lifted the torch and stood on tiptoe, peering through the bars.
All she could see was a pile of rags lying in one corner. A few bits of straw lay here and there on the floor, a rat scurrying quickly across. Sarah sighed, there was nothing there. She was being a silly girl.
She turned and made her way back up to the goblin guard. She placed the torch back in it’s bracket and slipped past the guard once more. Closing the door behind her she made her slow way back up the stairs.
* * *
In the dark, cold cell Hoggle raised his head. Figures she’d come just to gloat, he thought. He lay his head back down and wept.
* * *
Sarah made her way slowly up the stairs, slippers in one hand and the folds of her gown in the other so she wouldn’t trip. She safely made it to the dining hall once more, and sank into the cushions before the harp. She felt a bone weary sleep come to her, and her eyelids sagged shut. She briefly fought against it, wondering why a guard would be posted down there if there was nothing to guard, but sleep proved victorious. She lay her head upon the cushions and sank into oblivion as the harp played on.
* * *
“Sarah, Sarah are you alright?” The dark mists lifted that wrapped her mind in sleep and Sarah slowly opened her eyes. Inches from her face was the Goblin King. This close, she could see that his eyes were two different colours, one blue and one green.
“I – yes. I must have fallen asleep.”
Those eyes questioned her for a moment, narrowing thoughtfully. Jareth then rose. “And what is that godawful racket?” he asked, looking towards the harp. It immediately fell silent. He took a few paces away from her, then returned. “You should have called for me,” he said, reaching down a gloved hand to help her up.
She took it and he helped her up. She fell forward slightly, her hands brushing against the rich burgundy velvet jacket he wore. “Sorry,” she mumbled, backing away, not sure of what to do with her hands and feeling extremely uncomfortable.
“Are you unhappy with me, Sarah?” Jareth asked.
Sarah was shocked by the question. What kind of question was that? Not to mention the fact that she had just woken up, she thought without humour.
“No, I – I was just tired. I fell asleep.”
Sarah began to feel a spark of anger as her wits returned. She was not a prisoner, so she could do what she liked. “No, thank you. I do not want to go to my room.” She cringed as she said it, feeling like a little girl, throwing a tantrum.
Jareth smiled condescendingly. “You do not have to go to your room, Sarah. I just thought you might like to return and change for dinner. That is all.” His eyes smiled at her mockingly.
Sarah didn’t know what to do. She looked out the window, it was dusk. “I – I would just like some air first,” she said.
Jareth nodded and moved away from her. “Very well. As I said, you may come and go as you please, Sarah. You are my guest, and my only wish is that you recover well enough to either aid me or flee this war. For your sake,” he added. “It is your choice, Sarah. You have already aided in the creation of the Labyrinth, what I am trying to do is save it. But it is your choice. You may come and go as you wish.” He walked a few paces away from her, then turned to face her. “If you have changed your mind, then please let me know so that I may best accommodate you.”
Sarah shook her head. She felt like a spoilt child. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I wish to help you, as you have helped me.”
Jareth took a step towards her, hands on hips. “And I you,” he said with a smile. “Remember that, Sarah.” He turned then and left, boots echoing once more down the corridor.
“Would you like some tea first?” Innona said, sidling up to Sarah. “It should give you strength.”
“Um, thank you, but I will have it in my room before dinner, if that is alright. I’ll just get some air first.”
“Much better, thank you. It doesn’t hurt anymore at all,” she noted with surprise.
“We’ll leave the bandage on for a couple more days just in case.” The little lady nodded to Sarah and left.
She stood, alone in the room for a moment. She looked over to the harp where it sat upon its pedestal. The sad girl waited, poised over the strings, ready to sing out her grief. Sarah shook her head and left, after first putting on her blue slippers.
(VII) The King’s Court
Jareth paced about his chamber like a hunted animal. Something was wrong, something he could not control and that bothered him. Sarah was hiding something from him, when he had nearly had her completely. He stopped his pacing and smiled. Well, never mind. The best cage is one with no bars or locks. He will give her the freedom she thought she had, all the better to gain a stronger hold on her. Soon enough, the charade would end.
A humming sounded throughout the room. Jareth walked over to a stand that was covered with a black velvet cloth. He pulled the cloth away to reveal a large crystal ball.
“Akarra. How nice to see you again,” he said jovially.
“It is never a pleasure, Jareth.” The beautiful, cruel face smiled. “You were not alone this morning in the gardens, when you called for war. We felt the presence of another. Is your captive eavesdropping on your affairs, oh Great Goblin King?”
Jareth’s eyes narrowed. “No, she knows all, and she stands at my side. I have won her over to the Labyrinth, and she is ready and willing to give me her power. You saw how strong she was before, at the ball,” Jareth said with a smile. “She is stronger now. She will defeat you.”
“As she has defeated you?” the face in the crystal spat. “You haven’t changed, have you Jareth? You still have no power over her!”
Jareth’s smile widened. “That is where you are wrong, Akarra my dear. She has no power over me, as you have no power over me. But from you all I gain in strength. Think wisely before coming to the battle, sweet Akarra. Things have changed, I have changed, and you all would do well to heed that!”
“You will never change!” the face shouted. They crystal suddenly went black. Jareth replaced the velvet drape over it and went to his wardrobe to change for dinner.
* * *
Sarah found the staircase that led to the gardens. She stepped out into the evening gloom. The air had turned colder, and she wrapped her arms around herself for warmth.
She walked among the flowers and hedgerows, pondering her predicament. She had told the Goblin King that she would help him, it was only right after he had saved her. But something still nagged at her, something that said that she could not trust him completely. This feeling grew within her all day, and she wondered why.
She ducked below a low hanging lintel of ivy leaves and came upon another section of the garden, one she hadn’t noticed before. In neat rows before her lay plants of all description, a type of horticultural garden. Sarah wondered if this was where Innona gardened, where she found her healing herbs. Again, a memory just out of reach that reminded Sarah of gardening played in the back of her mind.
Without fully knowing why, Sarah reached down and plucked a leaf from each plant, having about twenty in total when she was done. She looked around to make sure she wasn’t watched and wrapped them in what looked like a large lettuce leaf before stuffing them down the bosom of her dress. She then left the gardens to change for dinner.
When she had returned to her chamber she found that Innona had been true to her word and left her a pot of tea in the usual place. Sarah first found her old shoes in the wardrobe and, taking the packet out of her dress, stuffed it into one of her shoes before hiding them underneath the bed. She then went over to the tea pot and poured out a cup, taking it to the window. She again opened the window and poured the tea out onto the unsuspecting tree below.
She closed the window and was returning the tea cup to the stand when Innona entered the room. She smiled at Sarah and went to the wardrobe. “Does this suit your fancy, my lady?” she asked, pulling out a pale yellow gown that tapered at the waist with a long, flowing skirt that trailed behind.
“That I know not, my lady. But they suit you, and you wear them well.”
“Yes, funny that,” Sarah mumbled under her breath. She allowed the little servant lady to help her into the gown and dress her hair. She place half of Sarah’s hair in coils on top of her head, lacing pale yellow ribbons among them and allowing the rest to flow down Sarah’s back. Sarah looked at her reflection in the mirror and noticed that she looked pale and tired once again. The dark circles had returned under her eyes, and she wondered again if she should not be drinking the restorative tea. No, she said firmly to herself, not until she knew what it was, or she could not go without.
She picked up the makeup and applied it, giving her face the illusion of health. When she was ready Innona took her down to the dining room once more. She opened the door for Sarah and waved her through.
Sarah entered the room and stopped suddenly. There was someone else in the room, speaking to Jareth. They stood before one of the large windows, conversing in low tones. Jareth was dressed in his usual finery, a silver brocaded waistcoat over a white shirt, with grey hose and the usual tall black boots. This newcomer was clad all in black, with a black captain’s coat over hose and long boots that folded over at the cuff by the knee. He held a short tophat in one gloved hand. His jet black hair was tied back with a black ribbon at the nape of his neck. Upon hearing Sarah’s entrance, the two stopped conversing and looked her way.
Sarah felt extremely uncomfortable. “I – I’m sorry, I am interrupting,” she said, turning back to the door.
“Sarah, no, wait.” she heard Jareth say. She turned back to see the man in black lean over and whisper in Jareth’s ear, but she could not make out the words.
“So, this is the one Akarra was talking about?” came the whisper in Jareth’s ear.
Jareth smiled and nodded, then moved forward to Sarah. “Sarah, may I introduce you to Lindir, of the royal house of Ethelion.”
The man in black stepped forward and took Sarah’s hand. He resembled Jareth, in that his face displayed sharp yet handsome features. His eyes were a deep purple in colour, with flecks of gold and he had the same arched eyebrows as Jareth. He kissed Sarah’s hand with soft burgundy lips. “Charmed, my lady,” he said, bowing low.
“Lindir brings us good news,” Jareth continued. He took Sarah’s arm and led her to the table. He pulled out her chair for. Both men waited until she was seated and then seated themselves. The table was already laden with delicacies. “The Prince of Ethelion has made it known to me that he wishes to side with us. That Ethelion will side with us. We can expect troops and reinforcements within the week.”
Lindir turned to Sarah, a charming smile upon his lips. “Ever has the house of Ethelion been loyal to the Goblin King.”
Jareth’s eyes narrowed. “Yes, though it has taken the royal house some time to declare it, as such,” he said.
Sarah said nothing, feeling completely out of her depth.
“We have merely waited for the opportune moment, your Highness,” Lindir said, spreading his hands in supplication.
“I shall look forward to your opportunism on the battlefield then,” Jareth said, taking a long drink from his goblet. Lindir merely smiled and raised his glass to the Goblin King.
“Are, are there others willing to help?” Sarah finally asked.
Both men looked to her. Lindir finally spoke. “I hear the House of Nethaera plans to join us soon. As well as Nadion, but that probably means little to you, my lady,” Lindir replied with slight arrogance.
A trait that seems to run in the blood, Sarah thought, a spark of anger flaring. “Saving the Labyrinth means everything to me, my lord.” she said hotly.
Lindir turned to Jareth, a look passing between them that Sarah could not interpret. He then turned back to her. “Indeed,” he said over the rim of his goblet.
“What is that supposed to mean?” Sarah asked.
“Please,” said Jareth, “We are all friends here.”
“It means,” Lindir continued, “that it wasn’t the case a few years ago. In fact, you seemed bent on destroying it. While I have the utmost faith in my King, who has rebuilt his kingdom, the Labyrinth, after your destruction, I have my doubts yet.”
Lindir stood up and bowed first to the king, then to Sarah. “I am truly sorry, my lady. I have no wish to dishonour you. I merely spoke my doubts, which should have been alleviated by my allegiance to the Goblin King before I even entered this discussion. I ask you both for your forgiveness.”
Jareth gave him a cold stare. Finally, he spoke. “No forgiveness is required from me. I understand your doubts, but the circumstances have changed. We are all bent on saving the Labyrinth. It is Sarah that must forgive you your words.”
Sarah stood a moment, unsure of what to say. “It is given,” she finally said.
“Please, then, let us drink to the unity of the houses opposed to the Court. To our victory!” Jareth said raising his goblet.
“Victory,” Lindir and Sarah replied.
Sarah raised her goblet but did not drink from it, nor did she touch the food on her plate, though she was hungry. She found that she was exceedingly tired after the confrontation. “My lords,” she said, standing up. “May I be excused?”
Jareth looked up at her questioningly. “Of course,” he said, rising. Lindir followed suit. “As you wish. Is something wrong?”
“No, only, it has been a long day, that is all.”
Jareth nodded. “Innona waits without. She will see you to your chambers if you are weary. Rest well, Sarah,” he said. He took her arm and led her to the door. He opened it for her and instructed the servant lady to take the very best care of Sarah. Sarah smiled and thanked him and followed the little lady down the corridor.
Jareth turned back to the room and quietly shut the door.
“Your guest seems unwell,” Lindir remarked.
“Of course she is,” Jareth said, striding the table and pouring himself another goblet. “She is very strong, but not too strong,” he said.
“Meaning?” Lindir asked, eyebrows raised.
“Meaning the Prince of Ethelion should not question the King of the Goblins so,” Jareth said.
“Again I apologise. I do not understand these mortals as do you, your Highness. Pray forgive my ignorance.”
Jareth snorted into his goblet, ignoring the last. “What does Akarra think on this?” he asked.
“I would not know. I do not dare contact her to find out. She is most… temperamental.”
“Aye,” Jareth agreed. “That she is.”
* * *
Sarah returned to her room, utterly exhausted. She let Innona help her out of her gown. The little servant lady poured her one last cup of tea before bed, and left Sarah to drink it, smiling as she gently shut the doors to her room behind her. Wearily, Sarah pulled herself to her feet from the bed and took the cup to the window, pouring out its contents. She replaced the cup on the tray and fell onto the bed, instantly asleep.
* * *
“There is a tie between the mortal girl and Jareth that I do not yet understand,” Lindir said, gazing into the tiny crystal that he had kept hidden within a pocket of his cloak. He was alone in his bedchamber, as a guest of the Goblin King. “But fear not, I shall find it out soon enough.”
“Sooner,” came the woman’s voice from the crystal. Akarra’s face appeared miniature within the depths of the sphere. “I need to know the extent of her powers, and what she intends to do with them. Do not underestimate her, Lindir. She destroyed the Labyrinth, she can destroy us as well if we allow it to happen. And that we must not do.”
“To be truthful, Akarra, it is Jareth that I am more afraid of than this mortal girl. He seems to have grown in power, his voice holds back more than you or I have ever known. It seems to be spilling out of him, at times. While this mortal girl seems very weak indeed, and incapable of doing much that will harm us.”
“That is where you are wrong, Lindir. You saw how she broke Jareth’s spell at the ball, and how easily she won the day. It is to her that we must look. She controls the Goblin King still. I know it!”
“I think perhaps that your judgement of the situation is a bit clouded, your Majesty,” Lindir said.
A beam of light flowed from the crystal and struck Lindir in the chest. He mouthed a wordless cry and fell to the floor, still clutching the crystal, unable to break free. Finally it stopped, and he lay on the rich carpet of his chamber, panting for breath. “Do not presume to judge me, Lindir.”
“No, your Majesty,” he gasped.
“And see to the girl. She must be stopped before the war begins.”
“Yes, your Majesty.”
The crystal flared once and then darkened. Lindir replaced it within his pocket and slowly, painfully, crawled to the bed.
(VIII) Talk turns to lighter things
“Sawah, Sawah friend.” A huge, hairy beast lumbered towards her. Frightened, Sarah backed up but could not, a wall was at her back. “Sawah,” it said again.
“How do you know my name?” she cried.
The monster came to a halt, looking puzzled. “Friend,” he said pointing to her.
Sarah shook her head.
An arrow came whizzing out of the darkness, striking the beast in the shoulder. It let out a massive cry of pain. Another, and another, landed in the thick furry hide. The beast howled and howled. Sarah cowered against the wall, not knowing what to do. The monster gave her one more sad look and limped away, trailing blood amidst a hail of arrows.
A crystal floated before her eyes. Within it she saw a small knight, sharp eyes and whiskers to be seen through the visored helmet. The little figure charged the wall of the Goblin City and fell from his steed, pierced by goblin arrows. Sarah screamed, though she knew not why.
Her scream echoed down the dark and dank corridors of the castle dungeons. She opened the door to a cell and found a small skeleton, shackled to the wall. It raised it’s skull and looked to her with empty sockets. “I ain’t interested in being friends,” it said, it’s teeth clacking together.
Sarah woke, sitting straight up in the bed with a gasp. What was that all about? Who were those people in her dream? She brought a shaking hand to her eyes. Her mouth was dry and all she could taste was too ripe peaches. It was just a dream, she said. Just a dream. But it had been so real.
She pushed aside the bed