Sarah entered Kaleb’s chamber with a confident stride, her head tilted down, just low enough to enhance the evil glare that shadowed her eyes.  A smirk played on her lips.

Kaleb looked her over with unconcealed lust.  Her clothes had changed with her mood; she wore a long black shirt of rayon that hung well below her knees, and fell from the waist down in shreds and tassles.  The collar rose high around her chin and flayed out, the opening coming midway down her busom.  Her sleeves were rolled up to the elbow, and her right wrist was decorated by a large, ostentatious bracelet made of feathers and rings of tarnished silver.  Her loose-fitting pants touched the ground, leaving only the forefront of her sandaled feet exposed.

“I see you’ve taken a fancy to making a fashion statement with each appearance,” Kaleb mused.  “Fickle tastes suit you.”

She seemed to ignore him, and closed in seductively, brushing her fingers over his shoulders as she circled him.  Her dark eyes did not leave the amethyst shard that hung from his neck.

“What is it, dear Sarah?” Kaleb asked.  “Looking for a bit of evening entertainment?”  He firmly planted his hand on her breast, and added in a breathy whisper, “We can arrange an excursion.”

She seemed to smile in approval, but there was a bit of something else mirrored in her eyes.  She faced him frontally, and forcefully jerked his slender hand from her busom.  Her eyes squinted purposefully.  She ripped the amethyst from his neck.

He seemed taken aback, but did his best not to bely the true level of the anxiety that overcame him.  “What’s this?  A little case of betrayal?”  He smirked as if it was a game.

She smiled more broadly, her eyelashes curling evilly over her lids.

“You know the shard is useless to you without the rest of the amethyst.  Or without me for that matter.”

“Is that so?” she asked, challengingly.  “I think you’ve been lying to me.  I think perhaps you might have overestimated your control over this situation, Kaleb.  And your control over me.”

“It does not matter, Sarah,” he said, becoming deathly serious.  “You will never find the remainder of the Amethyst.  I have hidden it well.  Unlike you did.”  He smiled at her as if he were the cat and she the mouse.  Her mouth curved up at the left corner.

Sarah looked very much like the feline in this situation.

“Hmm…” she hummed.  A haunting tune began to escape her lips as she made a journey towards the door to welcome the entrance of Claw.  Her hips swayed subtly.

Claw entered, holding the remainder of the amethyst.

Kaleb’s eyes widened in a complete loss of emotional control.

Sarah grinned.  “What’s this?  Perhaps Kaleb is week without Jareth?  Perhaps he is nothing of concern.”

“Impossible,” Kaleb muttered, never pulling his eyes from the amethyst in Claw’s wings.

“Quite possible,” Sarah replied, cocking her head to the side.  “More than that, quite real.  This is no illusion, Kaleb.”  She paused to let the concept sink in.  “I am more powerful than you.”  She bounced her head about in a fashion reminiscent of a happy-go-lucky cheerleader and said in a perky voice, “Don’t you just hate that?”  She laughed wickedly as she exited the room.

Before he left behind her, Claw said, “Sorry Kaleb.  Nothing personal.”

Kaleb looked as if he were about to explode.  He screamed and began a very purposeful and brisk walk in their direction, only to smash into an invisible force field.  He swept his hand through the air in an attempt to cast a rudimentary spell to break the field, to no avail.  “No!” he shouted.  “This cannot be!  My powers!  All gone!”

Sarah’s laugh echoed throughout the castle.  Before she and Claw exited the premises for good, Kaleb grabbed a nearby chair and smashed it into the ground, where it lost all it’s form due to the loss of the magic that created it, and did nothing more than disappear in a twirl of glittery fire.

“You bitch! I’m going to kill you!”

*        *        *

Elsewhere in the castle, Hoggle, Isabelle, and Vindar materialized in the now very plain and undecorated throne room.  They were immediately greated by an anxious Eberon, decked in clown’s face paint.

Vindar rushed to the king’s side and shouted, “Eberon!  Lord, are you well?”

Eberon didn’t seem to recognize Vindar, and was mumbling insanities under his breath.  “So sorry, didn’t mean to, didn’t mean it, really, really, really!” he exclaimed.

“Oh dear, I think he’s lost his wits,” Vindar announced to the others.

Suddenly Eberon looked up at them, like a man just waking up from a very bad dream.  His eyes were wide with new wonder.  “She’s gone.  She’s left.” 

“Who, King Eberon?” Isabelle asked, bending down to wipe the face paint from Eberon’s face with the end of her dress.

He looked at her, still struck with fear.  “Sarah.  She’s left.  Just now.  Mother earth, the torment is over!”  He cried tears of joy and gripped firmly Vindar’s hand.  He peered deeply into the boy’s eyes.  “I’m so sorry, lad.  I am so sorry  for what I did to your parents.  I vow that I shall spend my life trying to amend it!”

Vindar looked at Hoggle and Isabelle, his own face showing complete awe over Eberon’s condition, and his strange confession and apology.

“What’s happened to’im?” Hoggle asked.

Eberon looked about, like a man possessed.  “She was in my mind.  She is so powerful… But I am free, now that she has left.  My cage disappeared moments before you came.”

“Sarah?” Isabelle said.  “Sarah was in your mind?”  She was in utter disbelief.

“Yes!” Eberon screamed.  “In my mind… she played so many things, the images of what passed when I exiled your father and ordered that your mother be sent into limbo, all of the cruel things I have ever done…  And how my victims anguished at my orders.  It was… too horrible to describe!”

Vindar helped Eberon rise.  “Then what the Hiddlebury’s said must be correct.  Sarah has split, and her darker side has some kind of plan.  Where did she go, Eberon?”

“I don’t know…  I only felt her presence vanish.  All I know is that she was seeking the power of the amethyst.  She made me tell her…” 

“What?” Vindar demanded.  “What did she make you tell her?”

“Oh, earth Mother, it is horrid.  She must have it.  This spells certain doom for the Underground.”

Vindar shook the man, for he was mumbling incromphensibly.  “What did you tell her!?”

Eberon looked up at Vindar, his eyes mirroring a great fear.  “She is the only one who can control the full power of the Amethyst, Vindar.  Kaleb never had full control over the amethyst.  But Sarah does.  And she can do anything.”

Vindar gazed into his eyes, fully digesting what the king told him.  “So what Kaleb has done is mere child’s play in comparison.”

“A pebble in a vast lake,” Eberon added.

“Oh no!” Isabelle exclaimed.

“This ain’t good,” Hoggle mumbled, pulling out the talisman and eyeing it.  “What’re we gonna do?  We can’t harm’er, but what if we gots to?”

Suddenly the castle began to waver and sway.  “Uh oh,” Vindar mumbled.  “We have to get to it.  The magic that makes this castle is losing its composition.  We have to find Kaleb, and quick.”   He looked to Eberon.  “Where is he?”

Eberon pointedto the hallway, and quickly led them to Kaleb’s chamber.  Once they all arrived, Vindar stepped into the room.  Kaleb was huddled in a mass at the center of the room.  He looked up suddenly when he saw them approach, much as a caged animal would a potential predator.

“You!” Kaleb spat at the sight of Eberon.  “I order you to get me out of this!”

“Never,” Eberon replied with a dark chuckle, in what he obviously saw as a grand joke.

“But we might have’ta get’im out,” Hoggle said.  “We needs’im.”

“Yes, for once Higgle is being sensible.  Do as he says.”

Hoggle merely gave him a dirty look.  “So’s it was yous who couldn’t remember my name,” Hoggle said disdainfully.

“Hoggle’s right,” Vindar said.

“But what about his powers!?” Isabelle exclaimed.  “We’re defenseless against him!”

Vindar touched the force field, then stepped back to analyze the situation.  “It seems this force field not only cages him, but I am guessing it quells the power he has remaining.  If we were to let him out, he would probably regain his powers.”

Kaleb seemed to smile at this new information.  But everyone was too preoccupied to catch a glimpse of his newfound mirth.

Vindar held his hand out to Hoggle.  “Hoggle, give me the talisman.”  Hoggle placed it into his slender hand.  The elf turned it over and looked at the runes carefully.  “First things first,” he said, a determined expression on his face.

Vindar chanted the runes on the back, then held the talisman out before him, facing it toward Kaleb.  A black stream of smoky light emanated from the raven at the center, and engulfed the unprepared Kaleb.  Within moments, the smoke drifted away, and a single black feather floated to the ground where the man once stood.

“I like this toy!” Vindar exclaimed, tossing the talisman up playfully and catching it again.  He put it back into Hoggle’s hand, after which Hoggle dutifully put it back into his pocket.

“Sure is a useful trinket,” Hoggle agreed.

“What about the force field?” Isabelle asked.

Vindar walked forth and picked up the feather without incident.  “It’s gone.  No one left to guard.”  He smiled triumphantly.  But his joy did not last long.  The castle was quickly disintegrating.

“We must leave!” Eberon exclaimed.  “But there are no doors in this confounded place!”

“How will we get out?” Isabelle asked worriedly.

“Easy,” Vindar answered.  “We have to go to the first room that was created.  It’s the only place that actually touches real ground.  Of course the question is, which was the first room to be created?”

“I think I might know,” Eberon said.  “Follow me.”

The group followed the elf king down melting corridors, into a circular staircase that spiraled up and down.  Down and down they went, until they finally reached the very bottom.  Around the staircase, there was a circularly shaped room, whose walls were phasing in and out of reality.

“We can wait here,” Eberon said.  “It seems that the castle has nearly dissipated.”

Quickly the walls became a sort of glittery mush that transformed into a sparkling fire, swiling into the air and evaporating, leaving the small group stranded in the middle of a clearing at the very center of the Mists of Dreams.  They looked around and found themselves at the heart of a large circle of power, inscribed with ancient runes.  The staircase had been the very center of the fortress, from which all power had emanated.

“Would you look at that?” Vindar said, stepping gingerly from his place at the center of the circle.  “I haven’t ever seen a circle of power of this size.”

“Just great, we’s in the very center of the Mists.  What’re we gonna do?” Hoggle said in exasperation.

“Have a party!” a voice cried from the depths of the forest.  Everyone turned around to find that the source of the exclamation was Eepwot, the unofficial king of the fieries.  He was standing next to Mandelbrot, and behind them walked Sarah, Granen, Sage, Benedick, and Ludo.

Ludo saw Isabelle and cried joyfully, “Little Sarah!”  Isabelle ran to give the great beast a hug, quickly running to Sarah.  “You’re alright!” she cried, as the others exchanged hugs as well.

Sarah gave her a wan smile.  “Not completely.  I’m not quite… whole,” she corrected.

“Um, Sage my friend, I would not want to split hairs at a time like this, considering we were lucky enough to find the new additions to our party…” Benedick said, rubbing his furry goatee, “but… where’s the blasted castle?”

“Gone, gone, gone,” Vindar replied.  “Along with the other Sarah.”

Benedick joined the others in carefully digesting this new information.  Finally he yelled, “Then what in bloody hell are we doing here?!”

A large and very bright light emanated from the depths of the forest, and two tall, slender female figures emerged.  Everyone had to cover their eyes to make them out.

Each woman was completely in the nude, their wild hair gently teasing their skin.  They did not tread the ground with feet, but with hooves, their long legs split at the center by their equine ankles.  Their wings were translucent and spread out wide.  They held hands as they approached the awestruck group, toads, gnomes, goblins, and mice in their wake, looking on with enchanted gazes, fighting to be close to these higher spirits.

The faery women smiled down on the travelers.

“Who… who are you?” Isabelle managed, looking up at the beautiful women with an unconscious smile.

Sage looked at them with recognition.  “I know who they are.”  He immediately dropped down to one knee in admiration and respect.

The woman on the left bore a more mischievous smile than her sister.  “Rise, Sage,” she said before turning to face Isabelle.  “I am Laiste, daughter of the Moon.”

The other, more somber woman also answered, “And I am Dorcha, daughter of Epona, Lady of the Horse and the Moon.”

They paused, giving the group a few moments to take them in.

“These are dark times,” Laiste finally said.

“And also times of light,” Dorcha added, looking firmly upon Sarah.

“Your time is a time of ripened knowledge, plucked from the tree by unprepared and ignorant hands,” Laiste sang.

“Your time is a time of dark ignorance, planted in the earth and uprooted by wise and knowledgeable hands,” Dorcha continued.

They spread their hands out symbolically, and an image of two worlds from the side emerged, as if reflections of one another.  It was Aboveground and Underground.  A white dove flew in the golden sky of the land of the crystal moon, while a dark raven traveled over the green skies of the world of the brazen sun.  They combined and became something twisted and gnarled, devoid of definable shape. Like tree roots warped by disease and barren earth.

“Some things were meant to remain separate,” Laiste said.

Their voices rang clear and true in the dark night.  The stars sparkled down upon the group as they all did their best to understand the riddled words of the sisters.  What were the faery women trying to tell them?  What was their quest?

“Answers we cannot give you,” Dorcha said in reply to their unspoken questions, “but the correct questions… yes, these we can point you toward.”

Laiste looked up as if seeing an event that none of the others could detect.  “The time has come.”

Dorcha acknowledged her sister’s announcement with a silent nod.  “Then you must all follow… Come, and we will tell you what you must do.”

They all followed the glowing women into the very heart of the Mists, not one daring to speak.

*        *        *

Jareth, Ashley, Toby, and Gail made it back to the magic shoppe in short order.  When they entered, Marlena was talking to an older man, whose back was turned to the door.  When they heard the bells jingle on the door, they both turned to look and see who had entered.  Jareth stopped, dumbfounded.

“Master… Jeremiah?” he said with no small amount of shock.

“Jareth!” the old man cried.  “There you are! Thank the stars you’ve returned.”

Ashley piped up with her usual brazenness.  “An old friend?”

Jareth stepped forward to shake the old man’s hand, his mannerisms strangely uncomfortable.  “My teacher.  From my youth.”

Marlena stepped from behind the counter amd smiled.  “Master Jeremiah has told me a great deal about you, Jareth.  You were a crazy kid, as I hear it!”  She chuckled warmly and crossed her arms. “How was your day out on the town?”

Jareth was very distracted by his thoughts, and the appearance of his old master only added to the strangeness of the situation surrounding his return to the store. 

It was more than odd.  It tugged at Jareth’s instincts uncomfortably, assuring him further that something bad was going to happen. 

Jeremiah had been Jareth’s master in his youth; he was also the man who cursed Jareth to be king of goblins once he had acquired the crystals.  He remembered the day of his departure from this small village all too well.  He had made the decision to seek out the power of the crystals, and Jeremiah had gotten wind of his intentions.  He told him none too assertively that he would doom all the young man’s efforts at acquiring power, should he leave before his lessons were complete.  Jareth was impatient as the young are wont to be, and he had not heeded his master’s warnings.  Nor did he believe that the man who had been such a major force in his upbringing would dare bring any harm to him. 

His journey was swift, and, once he had found the crystals, his power seemed almost limitless.  He pretended to be a god, and found a small city to take control over.  They gave him the crown without question.  He was certain from that day on he would be without worries.

Until the next day came.  The entire city of humans morphed into a horde of mindless goblins.  He was king over goblins.  And the Labyrinth built itself around him, preventing his escape.  He could travel across the lands, but eternally he felt his tie to the city and its Labyrinth.  Should he leave, he would be overcome by madness.

And all of this, he knew, was the doing of his former Master Jeremiah.

Jeremiah came forward and put a hand on Jareth’s shoulder.  “You know I had to do it,” he said quietly, acknowledging Jareth’s silent thoughts.  “You understand now, don’t you?  You understand that it was for your own good?”

Jareth surmised the man to the best ability of his distracted mind.  “Why are you here?” he asked, unwilling to acknowledge or consider such a difficult question.

“Something very horrible is about to happen.”

“Sarah?”

“Yes, Sarah.  But not just to her.”

Jeremiah looked over Jareth’s shoulder and out onto the streets of New York.  Everyone on the sidewalk was looking up at the sky.  Jareth caught Jeremiah’s gaze, and slowly found his way outside.  Everyone in the shoppe followed out of curiosity.

With great trepidation, Jareth scanned the sky.  A large bird – a Spangore – was flying overhead, with what appeared to be a woman atop its back.  Jareth instantly recognized Sarah’s dark locks.  A swarm of ravens flew behind her, all making a bee-line for the gigantic television screen at the center of Times Square.

He inched forward, wanting to reach out to her, wanting to stop whatever was about to happen, but feeling completely powerless.  “Sarah,” he said under his breath.

Toby looked up at Jareth, having caught his mumbling.  “Sarah?” he said hopefully.  “That’s Sarah?  Has she come to get us?  She’s free!”

Marlena looked too, pensive.  “I don’t think so, Toby.”

“Why is she going to the t.v.?” Ashley asked Jareth, nudging him.

“I don’t know,” he said, shaking his head lightly.

“She’s gonna do it,” Jeremiah mumbled in disbelief.  “She’s actually going to do it.  I wonder if it is really possible.”

Jareth swung about and grabbed the old man forcefully.  “What is she going to do?”

“Well, who knows if it will actually work…” Jeremiah said, “but I think she is going to try to meld Aboveground and Underground.”

“And where did you learn about this?” Jareth asked with increasing exasperation.

Jeremiah gave him a knowing look.  “You know as well as I do that there are always ways of obtaining information, my boy.”

Jareth did not wish to acknowledge the old man’s condescension.  All he could do was look up to the screen where the small figure of Sarah could be seen, and wait for the worst to occur.

He tingled inside, and could feel the closeness of her spirit.  But it was dark, and heavy with anger and evil intention.  Her voice echoed quietly inside his head, uttering an incantation.  Purple of the amethyst glowed in his mind, maddening and powerful.

In his mind he could see her closely, as if she was projecting her image upon his inner self.  She wore a fanning gown of light grey velvet, a print of ravens flying from the hem of the dress, fading out as they rose toward her busom.  Her hands were held high to the sky, her mouth moving in ritual.

Then her eyes moved away from the sky, and faced him, peering deep into his soul.  She smiled, still chanting, yet in his mind he heard her say, “Hello my love.”

And that’s when it happened.  People grabbed their heads in shock, pain, or ecstasy.  The vision came upon them.  All of the screens in Times Square filled with Sarah’s face, sporadically flashing images of a world they had all seen in their dreams at one time or another.  The ground rippled, and Jareth and the others fought to maintain their balance.  He looked at them; none of them showed any evidence of feeling the same pain as the strangers surrounding them on the sidewalk.  The traffic stopped abruptly, some cars crashed into those ahead of them as their drivers lost all presence of mind.  Chaos ensued.

*        *        *

Dorcha looked down upon the brave companions who had entered the Mists, her face somber, more somber than any somberness a mere mortal could express.  “The Darkness has begun.  The fae have never needed mortal help so dearly as today.  It is your calling to save the mortal and faery lands, before it is too late, before what has been woven can no longer be torn asunder.

“We, the sisters and guardians of light and dark beseech you, Sarah, Queen of Sunset City… bring the worlds back as they were.  You are the key.”

“What is happening?” Sarah begged, pushing forth from her position amongst the group.  “What am I supposed to do?”

The faery women began to drift away, almost powerless to their own dissipating forms.  They seemed to be fading against their will.

“Help us,” they moaned, their voices becoming one with the wind.

“The Guardian at the Gate will take you to where your journey begins…”

As they disappeared before the eyes of the amazed group, another light grew, like a million sparks forming shape.  A sliver opened up in the very air, parting like threads in a malleable fabric, opening up like a blooming flower, intense and powerful.  Sarah knew immediately what she had to do.

She shielded her eyes against the light, and began to step into the portal.

“Sarah, wait!” Sage cried, reaching toward her.  But it was too late.

The elf looked at the group, and all had seemed to come to a silent acknowledgement.  One by one, they climbed into the portal, transported by the magic of the being that was the Guardian of the Gate between the realms.

When the light dissipated, they again found themselves in a Misty forest, greener and more substantial than the one of the Mists of Dreams.

Painted, ebony faces peered at them curiously from behind the foliage.

Sarah regained her composure and took in her surroundings.  She quickly discerned the curious faces that took them in.

“Where are we?” she whispered to herself.

No one could answer.  But it was definitely not Underground.  Nor Above.