Prologue: Surprises

There was once an Underground poet that wrote:

A dreamer dreams forever
Of silver and diamond rings
Of servants and of thrones
Romance and other things 
 
And when the dreamer owns
The wishes that she wants
There may be no more left to dream
No sleep to sweetly haunt
 
But little does she know
That there is more to know
There are dreams to go
If she should let go
If she could open her eyes
 
And see them.
 
The same poet wrote, as he sadly looked down upon his hard-earned parchment:
  
Oh, childhood action haunting
I have a dream to grasp
I have a question unasked
Of which you are forever daunting
 
Oh shadow, evil lurking
I have a life to share
I have a soul laid bare
Of which you once were murking
 
Oh life, sweet discorded song
I have a love to give
I have my song to live
Of which he does duly wrong
 
Oh sweet, I see you wait
I have to watch afar
I have to watch your star
Here, in this half-gone state
 
Oh tomorrow, hovering cloud
I have a new direction
I have a new discretion
And I shall speak aloud

He blew a wisp of blond hair from his face, then gazed into the fire, determination burning in his eyes. "A man," he said into the flames, "can have a dual nature. Then off it goes, like the sun over the horizon, leaving the plant alone in its darkness. But, if the sun does not return, if it were to fizzle out, the plant must die, as well." He continued his philosophizing, pacing the room, looking with melancholy eyes into the many paintings on his wall. "A woman," he said to a particular painting, "can have her heart's every desire. Then the dreams turn awry, and she is left dreamless. If she goes forever without another dream, her spirit shall surely die."
	He sat down at a table, and pulled out a parchment flier. On it were the words, "Sunset City's Annual Independence Festival: Bring Your Self and Your Craft... Surprises are bound to happen. Entrance fee: 30 gold coins."
	"What if the woman and the man were to join forces?" he asked the air. Perhaps they could keep each other alive. Then he grunted and added, "I am merely attempting to rationalize the breaking of a vow. But, unlike many years ago, I understand the need for assistance. Perhaps a vow is sometimes meant to be broken. There is one way to find out." Once again, he looked down at the flier. 
	"Surprises..." he mused.





CHAPTER I: A Dilemma


Murmuring voices filled the wood-paneled room as preparations were made to begin the discussions. Only one person was seated at the circular mahogany table at the center of the candlelit room; her dark brown curls glistened against her deep blue satin and chiffon dress. Eyes of the same blue glowed with apprehension at the coming ceremonies; Sarah was still unused to her position of leadership among the Seven Kingdoms of the Underground. She had been queen of Sunset City--formerly known as the Goblin City--for only four years, and in that relatively short time-frame her meager dreams of becoming an actress had been tossed away and replaced with expectations more spectacular and frightening than she had ever imagined she would encounter.
	The room became silent as the rulers of each of the other six kingdoms filtered into the hall. Sarah stood and acknowledged each with a silent nod and smile. First came the tall king of Feline City, a striped cat with a strangely unassuming air, dressed in a robe of tapestry material. Behind him came the queen of the Dwarven Kingdom, who was resplendent in her multi-colored brocade gown and its pastel pearls, and then the clan leader of the Spangores, donning a golden jeweled crest and silver feathers on his head. The faerie queen led the other side of the procession, walking proudly, her gauzy, olive gown trailing almost out of reach of the bluish aura that surrounded her. Next came chief of the beasts, two golden caps at the tips of his horns, and a large gold amulet standing boldly out from his shiny, black fur. Lastly, the king of elves walked in, decked sensibly with rich-colored silken robes, his long brown hair shimmering beneath his circlet.
	Each of the six stood behind their oak chairs, awaiting Sarah's speech. Never before had Sarah possessed such stage fright; This is the real thing, she thought nervously. Pulling together every queenly piece of etiquette, every proper phrase in her prepared speech, and every real thing, she thought nervously. Pulling together every queenly piece of etiquette, every proper phrase in her prepared speech, and every eloquent hand motion she knew, she gave a sweeping glance to her guests. With an assured and gentle smile, she began, "Welcome, everyone, to the Council of the Seven Kingdoms. I am delighted that my castle was chosen for this exchange of goodwill, and I hope that, in years to come, more of our smaller neighbors will agree to join us in our coalition of ideas and aide. As you all know, this assembly was planned due to some heretofore undisclosed troubles that kingdoms within this coalition have encountered. We are here to discuss plans of unification for possible battle. I would like everyone in this room to make the agreement not to disclose anything discussed within this room to others without; if you are not willing to keep matters discussed within the strictest confidence, then please exit."
	When no one attempted to leave, Sarah continued, "Now that that is taken care of, you may be seated." Chairs shifted as the members of the council were seated. The room smelled of freshly pressed linen and hot cider. Sarah tapped her manicured nails against the table a few times nervously, then laid her hands atop one another elegantly. Her manner became somber as she faced the group. "I would like to get straight to business. I have received news that the elfin kingdom has been experiencing problems, but I was never informed as to the nature of the problems. The only thing that I learned was that these problems were due to an outside force, and since it was a possibility that such problems could affect the rest of the Underground, it seemed plausible to me that a council should be formed so that no kingdom would be alone in facing any type of difficulty. I will now hand the floor over to the elfin king, Eberon, and he will inform us as to what exactly is troubling his people."
	Though she remained collected, Sarah felt within the need to sigh. The council seemed as if they had been impressed by her speech, and nodde dtheir understanding as they turned to face the elf. Eberon turned his head slightly, his circlet glimmering beneath the bright candlelight. "Thank you, Your Majesty. There is indeed a great turmoil within our kingdom, though I do not think I will be able to explain it as clearly as one might assume. All I can say is that I am sure our troubles stem from magic, and that this magic is not our own." His long hand spun fluidly about his wrist and the air above the table sparkled with the invocation of a spell. A picture of an elfin village materialized, showing two young male elves quarreling. "This magic appears to act randomly, and its effects have at times been disastrous. Some elves have become bitter and some have become violent... There is no logical explanation for their animosity, for, as you know, we elves are a very peaceful people. We pride ourselves on our wisdom and gaiety toward life... This behavior is..." He shook his head sadly as the two elves in the presentation came to blows. With another move of his fingers, the picture was gone. "Well, it's just unexplainable." 
	The king of Feline City spoke up. His sharp teeth only showed when he spoke, giving him a menacing appearance at such times. "Well, have you seen any odd occurrences otherwise? Has anyone out of the ordinary appeared in any of the villages?" 
	Eberon shook his head and gave a wan smile. "Not really..." He stopped abruptly as if considering. "Well, no, we have been seeing a lot of... it really seems a bit unrelated, but we have been seeing a lot of birds. It is unusual for several flocks of birds to make journeys this time of year."
	Sarah bolted upright at this knowledge, but only the feline king noticed her startled motion. "What do birds have to do with magic?" said Delina, the Dwarven queen, in a jeering tone. 
	Eberon clasped his hands together and faced her with a rigid expression. "Sometimes, milady, it is irrelevant when animals behave oddly, but magic and animals are quite connected. I do not think we should dismiss a possibility, no matter how extreme it seems."
	Benedick, the Feline king, faced Sarah and addressed the assembly. "I believe her majesty Sarah, has something to say on the matter."
	Sarah pulled her hair back nervously and replied, "Yes, I do see that there might be a connection with the birds... As you all are probably aware of, Jareth, the former king of this city, transformed into an owl. He also used birds, as I hear it, to carry out some of his work."
	The faerie queen shifted her hazy eyes to Sarah and asked softly, "What kind of things were his birds used for?"
	"I am really not certain." Sarah began to feel lost, but did not let her lostness overwhelm her. She scrounged her brains for a clue. "I believe he used them for spying, but I am not sure of any other uses. Even if it were Jareth, I do not see a reason for him to send several flocks of birds to perform any kind of task." Little by little she regained her assuredness, but the issue was one in which she had little desire to participate in conversation.
	"After all," Eberon added, "Jareth has not been seen since Sarah defeated him years ago. Chances are that he is dead."
	"How do you know that?" the Feline king asked.
	The faerie queen held out her hand as she answered. "It is common for a human being to expire after using any magic to an exhaustive amount. The Goblin King was several years old when Sage and the elders released him from the power of the crystals... I believe he had controlled this city for a few decades, before his ousting. Heavens know when he actually took control of it, he could have been older than his appearance. It was the magic that sustained him beyond a normal livelihood, and, when that magic expired, he probably did, as well."
	"So, we can rule out Jareth," Benedick said after downing his spiced cider. He placed the chalice onto the table noisily. "That means we have no clue to the cause, and we must figure it out."
	The Beast king, Zane, spoke up for the first time that evening. "Beast-men get angry. Beast-men hurt other beast-men." The king's face became wistful. "Friends hurt friends."
	Sarah was amazed to see that any beast could say so much at once. Out of all the time she had known Ludo, he had said little more than one or two small sentences at a time.
	Benedick seemed to have taken charge of the discussion. "Then, there are other kingdoms facing the same problem. Zane, have you seen any birds in your area? Anything strange?"
	The Beast fingered his amulet nervously. "See birds - not seem strange. Always see birds."
	"Then that brings us where we were a moment ago." After Benedick's words, the room became uncomfortably silent. A few members of the council took sips of cider, while others became engrossed in consideration of the matter.
	Sarah began to stare into the limelight of the candle on her end of the table. Blue wax dribbled down the side of the candle, like a sea-colored teardrop. Her thoughts melted and trickled from her mind in a similar fashion... Everyone had concluded that Jareth was dead, but the bird sightings left her unsure. There was a connection, she was sure of it, and she could not let her hunch go, even if it proved to be a false one. Hopefully she was wrong, and Jareth was not up to his old pranks, if he was not dead. Furthermore, something within her still hoped he was not dead. She had given up the possibility of his return two years ago, and her love for him had dwindled. There were more practical things to be taken care of, without chasing after lost loves. Her highest hope was to be able to ignore her feelings for him, since he was probably never going to return.
	Suddenly Sarah realized that someone had been talking to her, so she looked up. It was the Feline king. "I'm sorry, I was lost in thought. What were you saying?"
	Delina spoke for him. "He said that maybe we should not get our hopes up."
	Sarah shook her head in confusion. "I apologize, I don't quite follow you. Get our hopes up..."
	"We should not get our hopes up in believing that the birds are the solution," Benedick explained. "Perhaps they are only reacting to the magic, as are the peoples of the Beast and Elfin Kingdoms."
	"That is very likely," the Faerie queen replied. "I will ask my faeries if they have observed any ambivalent behavior in the birds. We will keep an eye on them."
	They all spoke for another half an hour on other relevant matters, treaties, and economic agreements. When they had finished the signing of several documents, Sarah stood from her seat and spoke to the council as a whole. "Are there any other matters that need to be presented before this council?" The soft glow of the candles revealed puzzled faces, but no one brought forth any other issues. "Does anyone have anymore suggestions as to the cause of this enigmatic behavior of the beasts and elves?" Silence. "Then, I bid you all to look further into the issue, as will I. I am sure we can come to the answer if we put our heads together in deliberation." Sarah managed to rekindle the warm atmosphere that formerly permeated the room with her smile. "I invite you all to remain in my city for the next week. We will be celebrating our fourth independence day, and great festivities have been planned. They will start tomorrow, and conclude half a fortnight from now with a special competition."
	"What kind of competition?" Benedick asked warmly.
	Sarah smiled knowingly. "You will see. It is a bit of a surprise."
	The Faerie Queen chuckled. "Any surprise you have planned for us, Sarah, is sure to be a pleasant one."
	"Perhaps we should surprise Her Majesty for once?" Delina offered in good humor.
	A light murmuring laughter filled the room as Eberon said, "I think Sarah has received too many surprises in her lifetime, as Sage has told me."
	Sarah laughed and nodded her head in affirmation. "I must agree with you... My life is full of surprises."
	"But surprises can be pleasant!" exclaimed Benedick as he nudged Zane.
	Knitting her eyebrows, Sarah gazed at them all through slitted eyes. "You are all up to something, I can see it."
	Eberon rose and grinned broadly at her. "No, Your Majesty, I do believe we are guiltless in this matter... Maybe you should talk to Sage..."
	"Maybe I should ask you," Sarah said with a delighted expression. "Sage won't tell me anything, I am sure."
	"Milady," Benedick said, "we do not know what he is up to, anymore than you. We just know Sage, and his pranks prove interesting."
	"Oh, I see. You are all his pawns of torture."
	Everyone else rose and began to exit the room. As Benedick passed, he patted Sarah on the shoulder. "You know what?" he whispered. "I think you are right."





CHAPTER II: Prince Charming 


Sarah walked out of the council room feeling refreshed, despite the matters that had been discussed. Perhaps it was due to the fact that she had made a good impression upon herself and her kingdom. For many days she had been preparing speeches for this meeting, and, to her surprise, it had proven to be nothing like she had expected. Everything had been close-knit and friendly, and matters had been quickly taken care of. It was overwhelmingly unlike politics in her world. 
	Sarah walked down the familiar hallways, and despite its simplicity of design, her blue gown looked very resplendent as it shimmered beneath the glow of the candles in the sconces along the walls. It did not take her long to reach the throne room, where her guests awaited her arrival. Sage was amongst them, and she gave him a lopsided grin. He smiled back, but made no attempt to approach her.
	"My servants have seen to bringing your luggage to your respective rooms and you may now retire to them until dinner is served. Feel free to wander around... My home is yours to share. If you get bored, I am sure Sage will be happy to entertain you with some feature of my castle, or maybe even a little humorous game of cat-and- mouse with the queen." Each member of the royal assembly laughed at the teasing of her elfin Royal Advisor.
	"That's okay, Your Majesty, we will give him his fair share this week," Benedick said as he whopped Sage on the back. Sage was dramatically shorter than the cat, but his position at the top of the steps to the throne allowed him to put his arm about the feline's shoulders. "Benedick, my feline friend, if you are out for mind- games, you are going to have a more than fair competition... That is, if you're not competing with me."
	Benedick laughed heartily. "Very well, elf Sage, you have a duel."
	"I suppose that this is a duel to the ...irony," Delina mused warmly.
	"Yes, that is what we will call it," Sage said, whacking Benedick across that back in a mocking manner. "And I do believe Benedick has met his match." Benedick regained his balance and began the journey to his chambers. "I would watch my back, if I were you, Sage." 
	"No, my dear friend, I will watch your back, instead."
	The room broke out into uproarious laughter. The laughter continued for some time, and Benedick finally discontinued his travels and turned around. "What's so funny?" he demanded.
	Sarah tried to suppress her laughter, and finally managed, "Um, Benedick, perhaps you should watch your back, as well."
	It did not take the cat long to find the source of their mirth; upon his back Sage had placed a sign reading "Please kick me into the Bog of Eternal Stench." He removed it dramatically, wadded it up, and threw it so that it hit Sage in the chest. "Ha, ha," he said as he continued his ascension of the stairs. "Two can play at that game."
	Sage walked down the stairs, and Sarah saw the hidden meaning in Benedick's words. She laughed all the harder, and soon everyone was joining her.
	"I think I know what is going on," Sage said, chuckling. He reached around and pulled off a sign that said, "Please kick me into an oubliette."
	"Perhaps Benedick and I are too well matched," Sage said as he threw the paper at Benedick's retreating figure. "I guess I will have to revise my strategy."
	Finally everyone began to part and make the trips to their rooms. Sarah said her good-byes and relaxed in her throne once everyone was gone. Only Sage remained and he approached her, beaming. "Well, how did it go?"
	"It was fantastic, Sage. I really think I made an impression."
	"It would seem that way." He patted her on the knee. "They are all enjoying themselves. Tomorrow, they will enjoy themselves more, I should think. I just hope that pressing matters do not weigh too heavily on the celebration."
	"It will be a difficult balance," Sarah agreed. "During half of their stay, we will have to brainstorm the cause of this disturbance."
	"Yes, Eberon has spoken to me of it. You know, Sarah, it is strange to me."
	"What?"
	Sage seated himself in the chair at the side of her throne. "Eberon has been much kinder to me since you and I became such close friends. His overweening kindness causes me much discomfort..."
	Sarah sat upright in her throne. Its silver and green padding expanded with the loss of her weight. "I don't understand why his behavior would cause you discomfort. You two seemed to be such good friends."
	"Eberon and I have a past, Sarah. Perhaps, someday, I will tell you the story."
	"Why not now? I am listening."
	The candlelight in the room shone green through the emerald candlabras, causing Sage's pallid complexion to take on an otherworldly radiance. "Not now, because there is no need for sadness. Some serious matters should wait, for we have enough of them to handle." Sage took Sarah's hands and smiled. "You have a very big day tomorrow, and everyone must enjoy it. Birds and fighting beasts and sad stories can wait. Tomorrow is a day of reflection of the past and enjoyment of the present."
	"And surprises..."
	"Yes, everyone will really enjoy your surprise."
	Sarah gave him a sidelong glance. "I'm not talking about that surprise, Sage. What are you up to?"
	"That, as all other matters we have discussed, must wait until tomorrow."
	"That would be the nature of a surprise, wouldn't it?"
	"Of course, milady." He winked at her and headed up the stairs. "Get some rest before dinner..."
	"You know very well I won't!" she exclaimed while he walked away. He merely acknowledged her with a wave of his hand.
	Sarah rose from the throne, and walked languidly across the stone tiles. She soaked in her environment, as if seeing it for the first time in a century, and wondered at how she had become the queen of such a fine kingdom. Only in her fantasies had she ever possessed such richness in lifestyle, and now her fantasy was reality, while her former reality was as if a passing dream. Long ago Jareth had offered his crystals to her, crystals that would bring her hopes and dreams... Dreams that would be shadowed by the debt of a slave, always needing to praise and pet her master's ego in order to receive more truthless fantasy. Sarah had not fallen into that trap, and had been blessed for her meager wisdom. Now she lived in her own perfect home, and ruled in a land where magic was the ever-present sun through her windows. She sighed deeply, sliding the tips of her fingers along the cool, stone walls.
	As she passed through the courtyard, the evening sky washed her face in pale reds and purples. The moon was barely visible through the translucent colors of the canopy, its oval shape revealing its journey to full maturity. A fountain gurgled beside her and the golden glow of candles showed from various open windows, lighting up balconies that held flowers and chairs. Sarah smiled when she saw Isabelle leaning on the banister of her own balcony, her hair teased by the cool breezes, and her eyes distant in thought.
	Sarah went up the stairs and knocked on Isabelle's door. After a few moments the young woman pulled it ajar, a grin teasing her fair face upon the sight of Sarah. She invited her in, then walked to the dresser, where she began grooming for that night's meal. 
	"How are you doing, today?" Sarah asked as she seated herself in a chair by the hearth.
	Isabelle brushed out her long, brown hair before the mirror. "I feel better."
	"Are you sure? You don't have to pretend for me." 
	"Well, I didn't say I was in the best possible spirits, but I am not nearly as depressed as yesterday."
	Sarah watched Isabelle in silence a few moments. Everything about Isabelle gave Sarah a vague nostalgic feeling, a longing for days as a child. This feeling was ironic, because Isabelle was a young woman, no traces of childhood in her face. It is amazing how much we look alike, Sarah thought, for the hundredth time. Surely there was a logical explanation for their uncanny similarity, but Sarah was not aware of any. No, she did not turn out to be as much like her as her twin Leah, but Sarah could place photos of each of them from when they were fifteen side-by-side, and not tell the difference. It felt strange having multiple copies of herself walking through the castle, so to speak.
	Sarah gripped the arms of the chair and inhaled the flowery aromas of Isabelle's room. "So, are you ready for tomorrow?"
	Isabelle's face lit up immediately; she spun on her heel, and her skirt twirled about her ankles. "Oh, yes!! Tell me what you have planned, Sarah!"
	Sarah sat up in the wooden chair and gazed at Isabelle with pondering eyes. Lifting her finger to her chin, she said, "Well, that was an abrupt change."
	"Yes, I know, I'm fickle. But I do so much like festivals!!" Her eyes sparkled suddenly, and her brush lay forgotten on her dresser as she sat on her bed.
	"Well, I have already told you what I have planned, Isabelle. What can I tell you, without telling about my surprises?" A smirk played on Sarah's lips.
	"You could tell me about them... You know I would keep them to myself." When Sarah shook her head, Isabelle grabbed her hands and cried, "Oh, please!! I can't take it anymore!"
	With a playful gesture, Sarah pushed Isabelle away and laughed. "Well, I would almost think you were going to die by the way you are acting!"
	"Yes, I most definitely will!" Isabelle chuckled, her aristocratic accent tinkling elegantly as she did so. "I love surprises! Yet, good gracious, how I hate them!"
	Sarah rose and examined herself in the mirror as she spoke. "I hate them, too... Sage is playing a little game with me. I couldn't possibly figure out what he is conjuring."
	"Sage?" Isabelle laughed. "He is always about something mischievous. Maybe he is playing the matchmaker."
	Sarah grinned as she spruced up her hair. "That would be something... As if Sage could possibly find a man to suit my needs."
	"Oh, your needs, are they? So, you have devised a long list of perfections for this person, have you?" She rolled over on her bed and gazed up at the ceiling. "I think there must not be a man out there for you, considering how persnickety you are about the sex." 
	"Yes, I do have a long list that I revise from time-to-time..."
	"And, what does this list entail?"
	Sarah laughed as if she had heard the funniest thing in her life. "Do you really want to know?"
	"Why not?"
	With a dramatic clearing of her throat, Sarah began her inventory. "Well, he must, for one, be exceedingly charming, mysterious, but also open with his emotions. His heart must be well-placed, and he must be concerned over the same type things as I am. Of course, he will be handsome, and he will be engrossed with his own interests while being interested in mine. He must love me with all of his heart, and, finally, he must never leave me." She emphasized the last statement with a sober glance at her side.
	"Is that all? I thought it would be worse than that... " Isabelle sat up on her bed and gesticulated wildly as she spoke, just as she had learned from being around Sarah. "You will not make him scrub your pans," she scrubbed her pillow, "sweep your floor, or kiss your feet? I am amazed at your lack of practicality."
	"Oh, and you talk! You are loved by every boy and man here, so you may demand such things. I have to be practical, or I will end up being an old maid. You might very well learn from my practicality, the way you lock yourself away from the poor boys who write poetry at one accidental glance from you."
	Isabelle seemed slightly disgusted with the topic and immediately said, "Enough about that... Show me what you will do when prince charming arrives!"
	Hand swooping toward her head, Sarah replied in a weary tone, "Oh, must I? I have acted enough for one evening."
	"Well, if Sage is preparing such a surprise, you must be prepared."
	"Your logic astounds me, but I am really not up to it. I don't expect that prince charming will show his glistening eyes tomorrow."
	Isabelle was adamant. "Oh, be a sport!"
	Sarah sighed teasingly and rose from her chair. "Oh, all right. But you must leave me alone about my surprise, until I reveal it. Deal?"
	"Yes, I will, I promise. Now, Prince Charming asks you to dance. What will you say?"
	With an elegant gesture, Sarah rose her hand to her imaginary suitor. "Well, I would be most honored..." Sarah turned to look at Isabelle. "Is he a 'Your Highness' or 'Sire' or 'Your Knightship' do you think?"
	Rolling her eyes about as if Sarah had just interrupted Hamlet's soliloquy to talk about shoes, Isabelle replied, "Oh, 'Your Highness,' if you must. Continue!"
	 
	"Your Highness is very charming," she said as she danced about the room. She pretended to blush and laughed at an imaginary comment. "Oh, you are so witty! You must talk to my court jester, Sage, sometime!!"
	Isabelle rolled about her bed in frivolous laughter at the remark about Sarah's Royal Advisor, Sage. He probably would not let Sarah forget it for months, if he heard about it.
	"So, Your Highness," Sarah continued, "please tell me about yourself." An ear to the air, Sarah nodded her head emphatically at silence. "Oh, yes, I do so much love silly little girls.... I know one; her name is Isabelle."
	Isabelle bolted upright and gripped the edge of the bedspread, her face full of mock injury. "Sarah!"
	"Yes, she is such a pretty thing, and has every boy wrapped about her finger... Maybe, if she was queen, she might make all the boys take classes on etiquette and mind their mothers."
	"You devil!" Isabelle jumped up from the bed, laughing madly, and grabbed Sarah's outstretched hands. Confusion gripped Sarah's face as she exclaimed, "Why, Your Highness, what has happened to you? You look
	exactly like Isabelle!! Oh, my charming prince, thou hast deserted me!!!" The tragic conclusion to Sarah's brief play having been made, she eluded Isabelle's grasp and mocked a swoon to the bed. "Oh, I shall not be able to live..."
	"You are absolutely a devil!" Still convulsing with laughter, Isabelle sat next to Sarah and shoved her.
	"No, I am absolutely tired.... I think I shall retire to my chambers before insanity completes its grip about me... Oh, swoon, someday my prince shall come!!"





CHAPTER III: A Good Friend 


After the little performance in Isabelle's room, Sarah retired to her chambers for a couple hours rest. As she made her way to her room, she stopped by Hoggle's study. She poked her head in the crack in the door, and saw the dwarf grueling over a manuscript. The soft candlelight softened his rough features. 
	"Busy at work, I see," Sarah exclaimed, startling him so that he dropped his pen.
	"You shouldn't be sneakin' up on folks like that!" he replied with thinly veiled irritation.
	Without asking permission, Sarah seated herself in the plush chair that faced his desk. "Pardon me... I didn't realize you were so engrossed. What are you working on?"
	Hoggle closed the book and raised it so that she could see the cover. It was old and dusty, like most books from the castle library, and said in gold letters, Guide to Locks and Doors. "It's very fascinatin'," Hoggle said with a smile. "Tells everything 'bout how locks work."
	Sarah seemed amused. "Last week it was, How to Make Your Own Machines. You are quite an ardent student, of late. Taking after your father?"
	Hoggle grunted. "Naw, he just has book-smarts. I plan to put what I learn to use. Not that he isn't useful, but I got my own way of doin' things."
	Hands behind her head, Sarah said, "Is he still giving you a hard time about you not choosing to walk in his footsteps?"
	"Whaddya think?" He picked his pen back up and began to gaze at the book. "Of course 'e is. Though, he's at least talking to me. Not that I want to talk to him... He's so sour all the time. You think I'm bad... I can't even stand my father." 
	Sarah grinned sardonically. "I know how your father is. I think he's a character, though, if you ask me."
	"Yeah, to you he is. When you see him, you don't have to deal with'm fer hours on end. It's 'Hoggle Jr., you need to do this,' or, 'Hoggle Jr., if you had done what I told you years ago and not got hooked up with that Jareth character, you wouldn't be such a loser.' Well, I'll show him. At least I ain't stuck up in that study of his all day long, coughing from the dust..." 
	"Well, Hoggle, your father does love you. He's still hurt by you abandoning him for Jareth. I know that you have changed, but it will take your father time to heal from that. Plus, he's having to deal with the fact that his years are quickly dwindling. I think he's frightened, Hoggle."
	Hoggle put down his pen and stared down at the blotter on his desk for some moments. A penetrating silence filled the room, and a single tear trickled down Hoggle's cheek. "I know it," Hoggle finally said with some difficulty. "I'm scared for him. And it kills me that I wasted so many years with that snake, Jareth. My father needed me, and I wadn't there for'im."
	Sarah sat up, but held back the urge to embrace Hoggle. She knew how his pride welled up when he was observed being emotional. "Hoggle," she began softly, "you made an honest mistake. It kills me to see you like this, and all because of Jareth's false promises. I think everyone in this castle has had their fair share of punishment from falling for those promises. Don't let it bother you too much; you still have some time with your father, and you need to take advantage of it."
	A heavy sigh fell from Hoggle's swelled lips. "You're right, missy." He looked up at Sarah, and smiled. "Thank you fer bein' such a good friend to me, Sarah. Ain't no one I can trust like you."
	Sarah bent over and patted his hand. "That's what I'm here for, Hoggle. We stick together, no matter what, right?"
	"You bet."
	With the resolution of yet another problem, Sarah rose and began to leave. She turned and added, almost as an afterthought, "By the way, have you already provided the transportation for your parents so that they can participate in tomorrow's celebration?"
	"Yeah," Hoggle said, grunting again. "They're comin', though I'm sure my father'll be complainin' about the trip for hours once he gets here."
	Sarah chuckled. "He probably will. Hey, don't study too hard. I want you to be jovial at dinner."
	"Jovial? You're talkin' to me, right? You must be outta yer mind."





CHAPTER IV: Fairytales 



As Sarah walked down the hall toward her room, a young part-human, part- bird male raced up to Sarah, his feathered hair swooping close to his head, and numerous papers in his hands. His name was Damion; he was Sarah's keeper of affairs, and he always liked to wait for Sarah by her chambers, just as she was getting ready to rest. His air had always been frantic, and he would often bring trivial manners before her at one o'clock in the morning, bemoaning them as if they were the end of the world as he knew it. Sarah tried her utmost not to let his over-achievement disturb her, and she stopped before her door as he raced toward her, attempting to choke down the sigh that fought to escape from her throat.
	"Yes, Damion?" she managed to say with forced politeness. 
	"Your Highness, I have a few things to discuss with you," he said, his high- pitched voice quivering nervously.
	"Certainly, Damion," she replied as she put her hand on his shoulder. It was in such situations that her skills as an actress saved her from mental breakdown. "But, would you mind telling me these things as I travel to my room? I am getting ready for a short nap." 
	"Oh, yes," he said, flushing red from embarrassment. Sarah wasn't sure if his discomfort stemmed from her allowing him to follow her into her bedroom, or his intrusion upon her rest. "I just felt that I should bring some matters to your attention... I am sorry if I am interrupting your rest."
	"Oh, really, I don't mind, just please make it as brief as possible. I apologize if it seems a bit selfish to you, but I would like to relax a little for the next two weeks.... I don't want to be short with you, I am just tired."
	"Oh, of course, you must be." He walked with her and fidgeted with the papers in his hand, as if he was battling with the need to be polite and the need to show the papers to her. "If I may..." 
	"Yes, certainly," she said, realizing the weary tone in her voice. As they traveled, she stared at the wall opposite Damion, and seemed not to hear him.
	"Well, first, the weaver's guild is desperate for a new loom for their display tomorrow. It seems that one of the younger members broke the one they had, and they were wanting to borrow some funds from the treasury to purchase one."
	"Yes," Sarah said absentmindedly, "yes, certainly, tell them that they may borrow the necessary funds." She forced herself to focus as her bedroom door came into view. "Make it clear that profits from their booth sales at the festival may first go to pay any other bills, but must then begin to be used, even if only fractionally, to pay the treasury back. I don't mind loaning the money, for I know they are honest, but our funds are already low from the renovations on the Labyrinth."
	"I have made note of it," he replied as he scribbled something on the paper. "Oh, and while I am speaking of the booths, there is a fellow who has just come in town who wants to know if he may set a booth up at the festival."
	Sarah frowned. "I don't know... It is awful late. What type creature is he?'
	"He is human, your majesty."
	Sarah sighed, and felt compelled to submit, just to get it off her shoulders. "What type of booth is it?"
	"He is an artist."
	They reached the door, and Sarah put her hand on the handle. An artist, she thought. That is very intriguing. Yet, practicality comes before intrigue. "Is he prepared to pay the fee?"
	"Yes, Your Majesty. He seems to be quite a nice fellow... If it were me, I would have no qualms about admitting him."
	Sarah lowered her head and considered the matter for a moment. As she did, Damion ruffled the papers with his stubby, fuzzy fingers. She finally looked up at him. "Yes, I suppose so. I don't really see any harm in it. Just make sure there's room, first."
	Sarah opened the door to her room, looking at Damion for another comment. All she could think of doing was dropping into bed for infinity.... The midnight oil had burned to mere fumes the evening before, for she had been preparing for the day's meeting and other various things involved with the festival till the wee hours of morning. With a languid gaze she turned into her room. What awaited her brought forth a gasp from her lips.
	Damion continued talking business, but Sarah did not hear him. Throughout her room, crowding every tabletop, every dresser, every desk, even the floor, were half a hundred vases of flowers. Sweet perfumes replaced the air, intoxicating and mystical. Sarah stumbled into the candelit room, her face drawn in shock. 
	"Your majesty, as I was saying--" Damion stopped short when he entered the room. His mouth stood ajar, as well, and he had stopped his agitated movement of the papers.
	Many feelings rushed upon her at once. Timeless days of rolling about her bed restlessly as she imagined the knights who would kill dragons for her; hours of reading D.H. Lawrence novels at the nook in the poplar tree; the long, exulting gazes at the handsome, quiet boy in her science class. Then she saw her perilous journeys into the Underground, the menacing and resplendent looks of Jareth, the city that had become hers, the fantasy that had come from something other than the reading of fairytales. Oh, how many times she had been told that she needed to get her head out of the clouds!! How many times she had heard the words, "Life is not a fairytale, Sarah, so stop treating it like one." Just as she had started believing it, she had become queen of Sunset City. Never in her four years as ruler had she thought things could get any better. The sight of the flowers assured her that they could.
	Sarah finally found her voice. "Sage!! It must be!! But where did he get all of these beautiful flowers?" She pulled back the curtain of her bed, and found her velvet blankets laden with rose petals of all colors. "Oh, good God, a bed of roses!! You would think he was courting me!"
	Suddenly, a small, joyous laugh escaped from her mouth. She fell onto the bed, tossing the petals about her and bringing them to her face to suffocate herself in their sweet aromas. "Well, I can truly say that I have been treated in all aspects like royalty!! A bed of roses, would you believe it?" She laughed again, and buried her face in the pillows. 
	The bird-like young man seemed to be uncomfortable about being present during this odd behavior on the part of his queen. "Would you like me to get him?" he said, obviously trying to escape the strangeness of the situation.
	Sarah bolted upright and smiled at him. "Oh, I would so much like to talk to him, but I doubt he's anywhere around..." She gave another wondering gaze about her room and continued in a quiet voice, as if she were speaking to herself, "He's sure to be very far away from here, I can guarantee it. Sage knows the meaning of a hasty retreat." Abruptly, Sarah remembered the presence of her council-member and said, "No, don't trouble yourself over it. You may go, if that is all..." 
	He drew the papers to his chest, staring oddly at her over his spectacles. "Yes, I think I will... I will discuss the other things with you after dinner."
	"Yes, that would be great. I will be more refreshed by then." 
	Without any other words, Damion bowed and exited the chamber, closing the door behind himself a bit too hurriedly. Sarah followed his movement dumbly, then let her eyes drift about the room and its sunflowers, azaleas, roses, tulips, snapdragons, baby's breath, and other various exotic blooms. If Sage was behind all of this, she might be inclined to believe that he was desperately in love with her. What a strange thought!! And, if it wasn't Sage, who in the world could it be?





CHAPTER V: No Harm 


Dinner was being readied for serving as the guests chattered in groups about the hall preceding the dining room. The chamber was a small ballroom, only designed for intimate parties with small guest lists. It was crowded with creatures of all sorts: faeries, fieries, beasts, elves, half-elves, dwarves, felines, humans, canines, and all other exotic mixtures of beings. Social level nor bias hindered the jovial atmosphere, and it seemed that the laughter reached somewhere into the tune of the band that was playing, grabbed the notes and squeezed them so hard that they became more violent with life. Dimly lit and luxurious in its tapestries, stained-glass windows, Persian rugs and crystal ornaments, the room glowed with the otherworldly decadence of the small chandelier that swung high above the heads of those in the crowd, tinkling with this motion caused by body heat and flames. Every creature was decked in its finest, women sparkled with witticism and beauty, and men with charm and the eloquence that exudes from healthy candor. 
	Sarah made her way through this group, her blue silk gown, if viewed from above, looking as if it were parting the Red Sea. Compliments and greetings fell from her lipsticked purple mouth, the outline of which was so fine that one might swear her lips were naturally so bold. When she spoke, the curled tufts of hair that had not been gathered into the French bun atop her head flurried beneath her warm breath. Each man turned his head appreciatively at the queen's alabaster shoulders, which protruded above the sea-blue silken puffs of her brocade gown. An elegant, manicured hand lay delicately atop her breast, the pink nails of which shone as brightly as the diamonds in the brooch that held together the ends of her taffeta cape. Her beauty held everyone captive, yet did not hold captive in Sarah that pride which lends itself to ugliness. Lovely, yet unaware of her loveliness, Sarah took great pains to make every guest feel welcomed, treating man no less than woman, child equally respected as adult.
	Somewhere in the crowd, a short man of thirty looked through the crowd as Sarah's face became apparent above it. He turned his head this way and that, trying to keep her beauty within his sight. His companion, who looked about the same age, but did not possess the awkwardness of one who is ignorant of social graces during a social event, gazed coolly at the same subject as his friend, making no attempts to regain vision when the queen's face was concealed by the crowd, but seeming as if his lack of worry over the matter did not stem from his lack of interest in it. Thin lips smiled knowingly as he watched, and his healthy, olive complexion glowed gold beneath the aura of a nearby candle.
	"Who is that?" asked his friend, who whistled. His gesture did not seem to be one of degradation, but one of custom. "Quite a perty lass."
	The man beside him crossed his arms, wrinkling the stately but unassuming jacket he wore. A smile appeared between his trimmed mustache and goatee. "You have never seen the queen?" he asked, a thinly veiled humor seeping into his voice.
	"What, and you have?" the man grunted, obviously familiar with his friend's behaviors. "She doesn't go prancin' about the kingdom, I can assure you."
	"I have seen her..." he said, his eyes hazing over in thought as his voice drifted off to almost a whisper, "...here and there."
	"What was that?" the short man asked roughly, straining his ears to hear over the noise in the room.
	"Nothing." He uncrossed his arms, and his blond hair, tapered but smooth, came just below his chin, covering his slightly pointed ears.
	"You're lucky they let us set up shop here, considering how late we were in applying for booth space," the shorter man commented, his red moustache quivering as he grunted at a sudden thought. "Seeing your little 'splurge' yesterday, we're going to have to get some serious funds together."
	The blond-headed man sighed impatiently. "Oh, do be quiet about that. I have assured you, it will be no problem. I have money stashed; you know I am prepared for anything." A serving-woman passed by with a tray of light liquors, and his friend took a champagne glass.
	"Would you like one?" he asked his refined companion.
	The tall man waved a slender hand at the offer. "No, best to do without."
	"But what harm can it do?"
	Again, he denied the offer. "A world," he answered, "if you have a record for becoming overly driven in the presence of any type liquor."
	"Any type liquor?" He chuckled brashly. "Like women?"
	The other man stroked his goatee thoughtfully. "You can make that comparison, if you so choose."
	The stout man laughed as he brought the glass to his lips. "Yeah, that's what you meant, all right." He downed half the glass, then said, "And you are certainly driven. Though, I could have no clue who you gave that's what you meant, all right." He downed half the glass, then said, "And you are certainly driven. Though, I could have no clue who you gave that big bunch of--"
	A hand came forth to silence him. The great doors to the dining hall began to open, and the crowd gushed in. "Dinner's begun. Please, let's not speak anymore of it. You know I am already anxious because of it, and you only make it worse with your constant nagging." 
	"Pardon me, Your Highness," his friend replied sarcastically as he scratched his copper hair in confusion at the other man's behavior.
	The blond-headed man merely gazed at him irritably with intense, green eyes.

* * * 

Sarah had finally found Sage amidst the mass of bodies, and managed to get past all of the little cliques without much conversation. There was no time to speak with him, but she gave him a knowing smile, to which he replied by slipping his arm about hers. The elf was only as high as her shoulder, and she could not make out if he was grinning, or not. Once they had reached the head of the crowd, Sarah bid the servants open the doors. Everyone entered in an orderly fashion and stood behind their respective seats, the ones at the front of the room being reserved for Sarah, Sage, Damion, Hoggle, Ludo, Sir Didymus, and the kings and queens of the visiting realms. Sarah noticed that one other seat had been reserved to her left, but the table bore no name card. She wondered how such an obvious mistake could have been made.
	While the guests were coming to order, Sarah turned to Sage and said, "It's a pity Leah could not be here. I was hoping she wouldn't have to miss this."
	Sage nodded in sober affirmation. "You are right... I miss her presence."
	"Why is there not a card here?" she asked off-handishly.
	The elf's brow wrinkled in thought. "I honestly do not know... Maybe it was a mistake."
	Sarah frowned uncertainly, but did not let it worry her. "Perhaps."
	The dining hall was dimly lit, as the ballroom, and it gave a somber, hushed, and opulent air to the feast. A painting of Sarah was high on the wall above her head; it was the same painting that Jareth had once owned, and depicted Sarah at 15, wearing the Cinderella-like gown that she had also worn while dancing with him in the mystical realm of his crystals. It was a remarkable piece of work, and Sarah had been hesitant to rid of it, even though she was wary of keeping any reminders of Jareth in the castle. She had decided to put the value of art above the value of bitterness, and had never regretted her decision.
	Upon the table there were culinary delights galore: chicken, fish, and steaks, cooked in every way imaginable; corn, peas, vegetable stews, and fresh salads; creamy clam chowders and steaming broths with rice; cider, wine, champagne, grape juice, cream, brew, punch, and spirits; noodle casseroles, lasagne, and meaty pies; merangue pies with strawberry relish, dripping fudge brownies, flaky pastries filled with creme, towering angel cakes and oozing apple pies; and every fruit custard known to man. The food smells mingled with the perfumes and colognes, and made Sarah suddenly dizzy with anticipation.
	The large group came to order, and Sarah clinked her fork against a champagne glass. Murmers ceased as the queen prepared to make her speech.
	Sarah gave everyone a sweeping glance and gracious smile before beginning. "Guests....friends..... I'd like to welcome you to my castle during this very special fortnight. Tomorrow will be the fourth anniversary of the first day that began this kingdom's independence. As you probably already know by now, that was the first day of the journey that the former king, Jareth sent me on the journey that brought me knowledge of a special talisman and gave me the opportunity to free the city of its curse. I do not hold myself responsible for this city's freedom; the heavens willed it that my presence should prove useful-- I did not plan such a thing on my own."
	Sage put his hand on her arm and laughed. "Oh, she is so modest!" The guests replied with a reverberating chuckle.
	Sarah smiled at her elfin companion, then replied, "Well, say what you like, but I am being honest." Her face darkened a moment in sadness, and she finally continued, "I would like to take this opportunity to make a few comments. Perhaps this is not the time or place, but I feel it is relevant." She clasped her hands together before her. "Four years ago I did battle with Jareth, the Goblin King. During that time I was very uncertain of my opinion of him; at times I despised him, at others I pitied him. Strangely enough, I find myself thinking now that, if I had never encountered him, I would never have arrived here. This is my true home, and it has been waiting here for several years without my knowledge. Jareth offered me my hopes and dreams many years ago... and I got them. Yesterday, the possibility of his death was brought to my knowledge. I found myself wondering what he would be doing if he were not." Sarah began to realize that she was going off the main subject. There was more on her mind than she planned to reveal, but she was unconsciously laying out her complete thoughts. It was unprofessional, not to mention the fact that Jareth might even be there that very moment! Ha! What a thought! Of course, he was most likely dead, as Benedick had said. Her little jokes of irony to herself were a bit more unsettling than she wished them to be sometimes. "Well, to make a long story short, I have, after nine years of seething dislike, forgiven Jareth for his crimes. Something tells me that I must... In his own odd way, Jareth brought something new into all of our lives... My main point in revealing this is such: I will fight any danger to our kingdom to death, if need be, whether it is raging fires or Goblin Kings. But, I can forgive. Up until now, there have been a few kingdoms denied entrance into our treaties... Henceforth, despite their former actions, I open my doors to them. This will not be a kingdom of bias, even if it is a bias caused by an instinctive need to protect the kingdom. My arms are wide open to everyone, and I want it to eventually be the same all over the Underground."
	Her speech received great applause. All eyes gazed reverently upon her and upon her kindness. An Irish-looking man rose his glass and exclaimed, "A toast to Her Majesty, the queen!!"
	Every creature raised their glass and answered, "Hear, hear!" before sipping their wine. Sarah joined them, then motioned for everyone to be seated. Noise once again echoed throughout the hall as conversation and eating began. Out of the corner of her eye, Sarah caught Sage glancing nervously at the clock, and then at the empty seat at the table. He was up to something, she was sure of it.
	"That was a marvelous speech," Sage commented as he placed his napkin in his lap. "It was also wonderful that you put your feelings out in the open; many people were wondering your opinion on each matter you discussed. Just make sure you are still careful when opening your arms to everyone; some will take advantage of your kindness."
	Sarah swallowed a bit of her salad before answering, "Yes, I know what you mean. It is hard for me to be wise about decisions and still be idealistic. It's a very difficult balance."
	"You are not expected to balance it completely; only the yen and the yang are equal in weight. You will learn a healthy balance... And there are people who care deeply about your success, to help make your falls softer and your successes more grand. You are truly lucky; there are not many rulers with those blessings."
	Sarah put her hand upon Sage's. "Yes, you are right... And you have been so kind to me." She winked at him. "Maybe too kind."
	He smiled at her. "What do you mean, dear Sarah? You could not possibly know about my surprise yet."
	Sarah laughed. "Haha! I knew it was you!" 
	Suddenly Sage appeared confused. "You knew it was me? Doing what? I have not revealed my surprise yet... My surprise is a little late."
	With an exaggerated motion, Sarah shook an accusing finger at the elf. "Don't play coy with me. I know it was you." 
	"Honestly, Sarah, I do not know what you are talking about."
	Sarah analyzed him and realized he was telling the truth. "You didn't put all of those flowers in my room? If it wasn't you, then who was it?"
	"Flowers?"
	Taking a sip of her wine, Sarah soon replied, "Yes, I came to my room for a nap, and found my room filled with vases of flowers. There were flower petals all over my bed, as if someone were wooing me."
	"Wooing you? I wonder how they got in without being seen."
	Sarah frowned. "Yes, it does trouble me."
	Abruptly, a knowing look came across Sage's countenance. "Well, of all the--"
	"What is it?"
	He quickly gained his composure and replied, "Oh, nothing." 
	"You can't do that to me!"
	He winked at her and said, "Ah, but I can. And I must... it will be more fun this way, you shall see."
	"It will be fun for you. It is torture for me."
	"There will be something soon to occupy your mind."
	Sarah gave him a sidelong glance. "Would it have anything to do with that empty chair?"
	"Ah, but you are too smart for me!!" Sage chuckled, then took a swig of his wine. "My dear Sarah, I am almost sorry it was not I who put those flowers in your room! Your intelligence and charm are worth the wooing."
	She took his hands between hers. "You are the charmer, old friend."
 
* * * 
 
"You are quite the fool, Granen," the blond-headed man said irritably to his Irish friend. "You have had too much to drink. Your brain is one great sponge, and soaks up any liquor as if it were sea-water."
	Granen gave him a heedless grin and nudged him. "No harm'n gettin' the pos'tive attentions of th'queen. I rather like'er." 
	His companion put down his eating utensils and faced Granen with frowning concentration. "You do not even know her."
	"I know all I need to know," the man replied boldly. "She's perty, and she's got good etiquette. That makes a real woman'n my part'o the country."
	"Well, I daresay, it takes much more than that to make a real woman. And twice that to make a good queen." The gentleman peered into the distance with a pondering expression. "You would be more respected by women if you showed them respect for something other than their beauty or social charms."
	"Oh, and you're to talk!" Granen exclaimed in a loud whisper. "What women have you got to prove yer point? Not one! And I haven't seen you with one yet! Not one in the three years you'n I have gone a'travelin' together."
	"I am saving myself for the right woman."
	Granen grunted. "Sure, as if'n you gone 'round lookin' for'er."
	"I have already found her."
	A surprised look took grip of the Irishman's features. "Where?"
	"She's close by." His eyes drifted to the end of the table.
	Granen nearly spit out his food in his mirth. "The Queen? Hah! You're a fine joker!! As if'n she'd give you the time'o day!"
	He put the tips of his fingers together thoughtfully and leaned forward. "One can hope, my friend... One can hope."
 
* * * 
 
Sir Dydimus looked up from his concentrated shoveling of food and declared, "Your Majesty, this is the finest meal I hath eaten in all of my royal feasts. I commend your chefs."
	"Thank you, Sir," Sarah answered with a nod of her head. 
	A grunt came from Hoggle's direction. "As if you've been to a million feasts."
	"Why, I would have you know, my brother, I have been to twenty-nine such feasts!" Sir Didymus replied, unaffected. "The last I attended was in my honour!"
	A disbelieving, yet interested look took ahold of Hoggle's features. "Whad'you do?"
	The fox seemed pleased to have the opportunity to tell a tale. "It was a Fiery feast... Though, they are quite a trying lot, but they are also quite amiable. One of them lost his head, and I helped him to find it, seeing that I am a knight of the old code. The ordeal was quite perilous, surprisingly enough, and I only found his head after hours of searching. There ist no need to describe his joy over my discovery; they had quite a tearful reunion. The good fellows threw me a feast for my effort."
	Benedick spoke up, twitching his whiskers in a sarcastic smirk. "You say he lost his head? Fieries are quite known for that, and in more than one sense, I assure you!"
	The Dwarven Queen, Delina, nudged him and reproachingly whispered, "My dear feline, there are Fiery guests here; I wouldn't speak so loud, if I were you."
	"Oh, c'mon, Delina... I meant nothing harmful by it!" Benedick laughed heartily. "It's not as if we felines don't have our little quirks. Hourly bathing, insatiable milk cravings..." 
	"Hairballs," Sage mumbled under his breath. 
	Benedick pointed an accusing finger at the elf, his claw protracting in the movement. "I heard that, Sage!" He shook his finger at him a few times before picking up his fork again to cut his fish. "Well, we felines don't have that blasted millenium life-span that you elves are famous for... I mean, really, you being about to nag people for a thousand years!! You must be the king of nuisances!" 
	Sage chuckled and replied, "Yes, you are correct." With a stiff lip, he looked down at his food and mumbled, "But, then again, I don't go hacking away in the middle of a meal." Benedick had not caught the comment, but everyone else who was in the area had. While the cat continued his meal in an air of forced silence, Sage dropped his fork and began coughing. Sarah looked up with a startled expression, but did not fret when she realized what Sage was doing. The elf began hacking and hacking, as if he were trying to get something dislodged from his throat, yet it was apparent that he was not choking, for he was smiling broadly, and making exaggerated motions. Benedick looked up from his plate and Sarah tried not to spit out her food in her strangled laughter. Sage sobered up for a moment, gripping his neck, and said in a throaty voice,"Please forgive me, I can't quite get it out..."
	"What are you about, Sage?" Benedick asked with a raised eyebrow as the table broke out in riotous laughter.
	Delina controlled herself long enough to exclaim, "And at a royal feast! You should be ashamed of yourself, Sage!!"
	Finally Sage seemed to have coughed the object out into his hand, and he took a swig of wine. "I am so sorry," he said with an almost sincere look of apology. "I guess we elves are too subject to hairballs."
	Sarah fell back into her chair, very unqueenly, but very much amused. "Oh, Sage, you are the absolute devil!"
	Benedick looked on with a dumfounded expression, as if he had been utterly fooled by Sage's act and felt like dunce because of it. "Let me see what you have in your hand, elf!"
	Sage looked down into his hand, then looked up at Benedick. "I assure you, it is not very pleasant, my feline friend."
	Benedick gave him a sardonic grin. "I have seen plenty a hairball, I assure you."
	"Very well, then, you may have it!" Sage then tossed the object across the room, and the cat caught it with a swift motion.
	The cat looked up at Sage with a wrinkled brow upon his examination of the thing. "Very funny!"
	"Come, let us see it!" Delina urged as the feline covered it with his hand.
	Grudgingly, the cat held up the object. It was a pendant with a painted image of Benedick on it. "Are you trying to say that I am a hairball, Sage?" Benedick asked in a good-natured tone.
	"Never, Benedick my feline friend." Sage gave the cat a lopsided grin. "You just look like one."
	"Very well, then, Sage. You'll get what's coming to you."
	"Hopefully not another hairball... Those things are gastly."
	With an air of superiority, the cat replied, "I will ignore you now, and continue my meal." He turned to face Sarah and smiled. "Your Majesty, this is the best smoked herring I've had in ages! And the milk is so sweet! You certainly do know how to throw a party."
	"Well, that's one thing I did right during high school." Sarah chuckled to herself before continuing. "I always dreamt that I would one day be in a big production called a Boradway play. I would then have the biggest cast party afterward. I threw many parties during high school for, what I called, practice." Again, she laughed. "I was a big dreamer back then."
	"Oh, c'mon missy," Hoggle said. "You still dream, dontcha?"
	"Well, I don't want to be one to look the gift horse in the mouth," Sarah said sheepishly, "but, when you have everything you could ever wish for, there's not much dreaming left to do. I kind of have more practical goals now. My dreams are to make this kingdom successful and to bring unity to the Underground... Dreams that aren't really for myself. I'm not saying that I don't cherish those dreams in the same way as ones for myself, just that my outlook on life has changed."
	Ludo looked up from his slow concentrated eating. With a cocked head he said, "Sarah-- need dreams."
	"Yes, fair maiden," Didymus added. "Everyone needs dreams."
	"Well, maybe I've still got a lot to learn," Sarah answered. "I just don't have many dreams at this moment. Perhaps I'm still adjusting to--"
	"BOY! What a turnout!!"
	Everyone in the room jerked their heads to see the source of the exclamation. In front of the double doors that led into the dining hall stood an almost identical replica of Sarah, wearing her hair in a pony-tail while sneakers protruded from beneath her purple taffeta dress of simple design. She bent over to pull off her tennis shoe and replaced it with a pump. "Sorry I'm late."
	"Leah!" Sarah exclaimed as she jumped out of her chair and went to hug her twin. The surprise of seeing Leah was almost as great as when she had discovered her within Shadow Mountain four years ago. She already had a world of things to tell her, and was sure that her "shadow" had a few adventures from Aboveground to share, as well. She took a moment to examine the woman up-close. Leah's had apparently died her hair a reddish-brown, and had cut it so that it was chin-length. Her counterpart was well-groomed and decidedly pretty, but still had an air of boyishness about her. That's good-old Leah for you, she thought as a smile widened on her face. Count on her to come to a royal feast in sneakers.
	Sarah took Leah by the hand and led her to the front of the room. "Everyone, may I have your attention?!" A warm, tingling happiness welled up inside of Sarah with this new pleasant arrival to her day. The room was quickly empty of the murmering voices as the guests looked up from their meal. "This is Leah, my former shadow and best friend. If it were not for her, I probably would not be here today!"
	"Is it truly milady Leah?" Sir Didymus asked as he rose from his seat and approached Sarah's twin. He grasped her hand delicately and laid a kiss upon it. "I am very honoured to once again be in your presence." He looked up at Sarah and added, "If 'twere not for milady, we should not ever have been free of the Shadow Mountains."
	"Yeah, lucky for me I found her before Jareth's shadow came to plague her. That would have been a misfortune!" Leah exclaimed with a laugh.
	Some of the guests chuckled at this remark, while Sage said, "Come, have a seat, Leah, and join us in our meal."
 
* * * 
 
The blond-headed man dropped his fork and put his hand to his head, as if in pain. Granen dropped his own fork and put his hand on his companion's shoulder. "What's th'matter, lad? What's troublin' you? Not ill, are ye?"
	"No, Granen, not physically," the man replied, sighing heavily. "I ache within...for the pain I have caused everyone else." He put his napkin down and looked up purposefully at the ceiling. "I have many preparations to make... There is so much still left to atone for, and so little time."
	"What be ya speakin' of, lad? I don't quite follow ye." A surprised expression took ahold of his features as the blond-headed man took a swig of the wine that sat before him. "You must really be disturbed, if ya be drinkin' liquor. Come, tell me. You know you can trust me... "
	"No, Granen," the man replied, stroking his goatee thoughtfully. "I do not wish to share it yet. I must leave, now." He rose from the table and pushed back his chair. "There is much to be done." Leaving his friend behind with his jaw agape in wonder, the man went toward the doors that led into the dining hall. He turned around and gazed somerbly at the queen. "My dearest Sarah..." he whispered to himself. "I promise that no harm shall come to you, now or ever again. Even if I must die."





CHAPTER VI: Casting Spells 


The librarian was one of the trash people, and he lived in the library on the second floor. It had taken a great deal of screaming to wake him from his evening nap. He had been decidedly cranky, for he was so busy tending to the library that he had not been able to go to the dinner at the castle. A handful of gold coins had silenced him adequately, and he allowed the blond-headed man to enter without argument. With a brusque, yet unsure step, the man headed to the dusty books at the rear of the room. Above one of the tilting bookcases was a carved sign reading Magic. He picked one of the old books out of the shelf gingerly, and gazed at the cover with a maudlin expression.
	"How long has it been since I looked at these books?" he asked himself in a whisper. "Too long. Too, too long."
	With a sudden youthful vigor, he sauntered over to a table and opened the nameless book. The librarian squinched up his green and already heavily wrinkled face as he watched his strange visitor in wonder. "Huh, could swear I knows him from somewhere..." he mumbled. "But, no, it was long, long ago... Yet, we remembers. We musts remembers." Soon he dismissed the puzzle, and went back to stamping books.
	The blond-headed man flipped through the pages quickly, twisting his mustache between his fingers agitatedly. "Oh, I could never perform these spells again." He flipped a page and decided, "No, it must be too difficult for her." He flipped another. "Too involved." Another. "Too personal... too tiring... too-- " Suddenly, he slammed the book shut and looked across the room angrily. "Oh, I cannot ask this of her! But, I cannot do it without her! Damn it all! Why did I even bother?"
	"Because you cannot bear to live without her," a voice said from behind him.
	He swerved about, and looked up at the owner of the voice in surprise. Sage's elfin features were lit at sharp angles by the candle on the table. "Oh, it is you, Sage. You startled me."
	The elf took a seat across from the man, and put his hands together in a thoughtful manner. "I saw you leave the dinner table. You are troubled?"
	"Very much so," the man answered sadly. "I thought I might be able to hide from him, but I see that he has suddenly become ambitious."
	"Well, yes, there are some things that cannot be prevented."
	"They could have."
	Sage sighed heavily. "Things happen, strange things. We all make mistakes. I should know." Leaning back in the chair, the elf continued, "But you know as well as I do that your mistake had amazingly positive consequences, despite the negative ones. Some bad things happen for the good. That, I can say once again, is an experience I have also had." A laugh escaped from his lips. "Well, why am I telling you? You know these things as well as I do."
	"Yes, but there are times when I need reminding," the man said as he tapped his fingers against the wood of the table. "I still wish that I could solve this problem on my own."
	"You know you cannot," Sage answered somberly. "And it is going to be best, in the end, that you do not. Trust me. You know this... you just need to ignore your stubborn need to stay detached." A smile widened on his gaunt face. "Now, the masquerade ball has begun. If there ever was a better opportunity to dance with your love, it is now."
	"I am not ready, Sage," the man replied, his head hanging down, causing his hair to cover his face.
	Sage laid his hand upon that of the other man's. "Of course you are. Anyhow, you can remain without identity for awhile. It is a masquerade ball."
	"There is more for me to do."
	Like a lightning bolt, Sage shot up from his chair. "Oh, stuff and nonsense!" he answered sharply, yet playfully. "There is time! We need not disturb the librarian another moment with your obssessive whim. Come, we are going back to the castle, whether you like it, or not. You will soon be thanking me, you stubborn man!"

* * * 
 
Sarah was standing against the wall, talking in an animated manner to her closest friend, Leah. Within their small circle of conversation was Benedick, Hoggle, Ludo, Sir Didymus, and Vindar, Sage's son. They all wore elegant masks, Sarah donning one that looked like the head of a dove, its feathers white and pink-tinged at the edges. A tapestry hung behind them all, offsetting Sarah's glittering gown and giving her a strange, angelic appearance.
	"So, Leah, what has been happening Aboveground?" Sarah asked, a smile appearing beneath the curved beak of her mask. 
	Leah brushed a morsel of food from her shining dress. "Well, believe it or not, I have gotten a job as an environmental engineer. I'm not getting paid much, seeing that I just completed my college education..."
	Riotous laughter came from Sarah. "Oh, good God! What did Mom and Dad have to say about you changing my major?" Ever since they had switched places, Sarah had wondered what crazy things Leah would be doing to make her parents suspect that Sarah had been replaced by another person. Leah had never told Sarah about the change in college majors. I mean, what a dramatic change! An actress to an environmental engineer!
	"Well," Leah said with a chuckle, "I wanted to explore the world scientifically, and wanted to feel that I was helping somehow to get rid of all the problems that arise from people taking the world for granted." She pointed an accusing finger at Sarah. "Taking it for granted like you did, my queenly companion."
	"Yeah, well I can honestly say that my perspective has changed a bit," Sarah replied.
	"I also see that, though you seem to be having a grand old time, you have not let your own hair down a bit," Leah remarked soberly. "As a matter of fact, that French roll on your head is tighter than normal."
	"I am a queen," Sarah said matter-of-factly. "I have a lot of responsibility. Anyhow, who says I am not enjoying it? I love every bit of it. I wouldn't trade it for the world."
	"There's that old familiar denial creeping in," Leah said, clucking her tongue playfully.
	"Sarah -- good queen," Ludo said with a sideways cock of his shaggy head.
	Benedick smiled beneath the mask of a wolf, revealing his sharp teeth. "Not a better one in the wide world, I say!"
	"What about that little lad that you was trying to get back from Jareth nine years ago?" Hoggle asked from his lower position, his nose protruding from beneath a simple, ebony eye-mask. "What was is name? Toby, was it?"
	"Ah, Toby!" Leah said with a mischievous grin. "Toby has become quite the bright young man! Though, he is a bit withdrawn in school..." Suddenly her expression became serious.
	"Oh no, he's not doing badly, is he?" Sarah asked with a worried look.
	"All those fantastical experiences he had are subconsciously haunting him, I would expect," Vindar offered.
	Leah crossed her arms. "Well, I think that is exactly what is happening. Toby does all of these marvelous things, that other nine-year-olds don t normally do. Especially..." Her voice trailed off apprehensively.
	"What?" Sarah asked with wide eyes. 
	"Especially making his bad grades turn into good ones."
	Sarah sighed and laughed in relief. "Oh, you old joker you! You had me going for a second."
	"Ah, Sarah," Leah said in complete seriousness, "I wasn't being silly. Toby does make low grades. And then he looks at the paper, and they turn into A's. Not only that, he has been known to make creatures from T.V...."
	Sarah gazed at Leah disbelievingly. "Make them... appear?"
	"Uh-huh..." Leah said with a sober nod. "Thankfully, they don't last long. I, uh, I don t know if he s been doing any of this in public... at least, not anything major. I have, however, seen him do it around me. The only thing that I really know he did at school was to make an eraser fly at his teacher when she put his name on the board for daydreaming in class. He got sent to the principal's office, because the teacher thought he threw it at her."
	"Why didn't you tell me, for God's sake?" Sarah exclaimed. "This is really serious!"
	"I didn't find out until just recently, when I came to visit last week."
	"It looks as if Her Majesty's brother hath magical abilites," Sir Didymus offered. "All capable magicians should have training. Such skills should not go unattended!" 
	"Sir is correct," Vindar offered, holding out his hand in explanation. "Toby will need to learn to control his powers. I think I know exactly what is going on."
	"If so, please enlighten me," Sarah said breathlessly, looking as if she were going to faint.
	"You, Sarah, already know that you have magical powers. Such powers are generally dormant Aboveground, especially when the owner does not believe they have them. Magic does run through the blood in a family line, and so it is logical that Toby would be gifted with those powers. Yet, the technicality arises here: Aboveground, people do not believe in magic, so it is not an everyday occurrence. It simply does not exist Aboveground. But, when you travel to a world of magic, such as the Underground is, you take some of the magic with you. Toby is such an imaginative child, apparently, that he believes he has magic. So he uses it."
	"And, when Jareth brought him here, he was exposed to a great deal of magic," Sarah reasoned. She scowled fiercely. "What in heaven's name can I do?"
	"The boy will have to come here, no doubt, where magic is normal," Benedick said as he crossed his arms. He saw Sarah's troubled appearance, then added, "Oh, come now! I think it would be great fun to have the lad running about, turning people into goblins!" Sarah gave him a sidelong glance. "Okay, not people, just Sage." She continued to glare at him. "Oh, I see... Very well, then, not a goblin, a frog. Sage is already close enough to a goblin, as it is."
	"We cannot just take him here," Sarah explained with a sigh. "We will have to... Oh, this is going to be so much trouble!"
	Leah put her hand on Sarah's shoulder. "Yes, we re going to have to tell Mom and Dad about the Underground."
	"Huh," Hoggle grunted. "They ain't gonna believe a word of it. You got your work cut out for you, Sarah."
	"Oh, you just don't know how aware I am of that..."
	"I mean, Mom is so practical," Leah offered. "She'd never believe in all of this. And you becoming a queen? Of course, she thinks you've become an environmental engineer... If that isn't shocking enough."
	"Milady, methinks the solution will come of its own accord, " Didymus said with an energetic thrust of his staff. "Let us enjoy the ball."
	Vindar turned around a looked across the room. When he spotted his father, Sage, from across the room, he waved vigorously. "There he is! I wonder where he s been all this time?"
	Benedick nudged the young elf with his elbow. "Vindar, who's the gent that's with him?"
	Vindar smiled mischievously. "Oh, an old friend of father's. He's an artist."
	Sarah looked up suddenly. "An artist, you say? He didn't just arrive today, did he?"
	"Yes," Vindar replied, cocking his head to the side. "You've heard of him?"
	"Well, just briefly. Damion asked me today if he could give the man permission to set up a booth," Sarah explained. "What kind of art does he make?"
	The young elf beamed. "Oh, he's a marvelous painter... He does a lot of scenery and portraiture, but it's all done in this half-realistic style. You should come to his booth tomorrow and see it. It's spectacular."
	"I certainly will," she replied with slanted eyes. "I certainly will..."
	Finally, Sage and the man had arrived at the edge of the huddled group of friends. Sarah summed her new guest up: he was tall and slender, but healthily built, as if he had lived the life of a working-man. Beneath his white, glittering unicorn mask, a head of smooth blond hair could be seen and intense green eyes glowed serenely. His dinner jacket was very genteel and somewhat unorhtodox, but was also very modest. His humble clothing contrasted sharply with his ornate mask. Well, he certainly dresses like an artist, she commented mentally. He looks awful familiar, though I am sure I have never met him in my life...
	"Meet my old friend," Sage exclaimed, a grin appearing beneath his own bird-like mask.
	Sarah offered her hand for a handshake, but the man took hold of it gently and brought it to his lips. "I am honored, Your Majesty."
	"Well..." Sarah said with a sly grin. "Your friend is certainly the gentleman. Does your gentlemanship have a name?" she asked, looking at the strange man with her soft eyes.
	"Names are sometimes very self-debasing," the man replied with a mischievous grin. "I don't believe in using them."
	"They are helpful, however, in identification," Sarah replied, equaling his own intellectual and playful tone of voice. 
	"A technicality," the man answered dodgingly. "Since I am one of the few who choose not to use a name, it does not cause me many problems. Anyhow... Perhaps I do not wish to be identified." Again, he smiled knowingly.
	"And why would that be?" Sarah challenged. "Are you hiding from yourself?"
	"In a manner of speaking," the man chuckled as he stroked his goatee, "I would suppose that I am. At least, my external self."
	"And, this denial of external self helps you how...?"
	"Well, as an artist, it allows me to explore my own internal self as compared to the world. It allows me to look at myself as a smaller part of a greater working. Since I gave up my name, I have learned a great deal about people in general." His hair and eyes glistened in response the the light of the above chandelier. "By hiding from myself and others, I have -- strange as it is -- found myself." Suddenly, he was chuckling. "I am still quite an anomaly, I suppose, even after all these years." He seemed to notice Sarah's amused, yet perplexed expression, and chuckled again. "I am not making much sense to you, am I, Your Majesty?" 
	"Strange as it seems, you are making complete sense to me," she confessed, the baffled expression still on her countenance. "I feel as if I know you..." With a shake of her head, she shook away her obvious stare, then laughed. "Well, but, that cannot be, because I have never met a man without a name before."
	"No, Your Majesty, it saddens me to say that we have not known each other before today," he replied, his eyes hazing over unnoticeably. 
	"Well, if he isn't the charmer!" Benedick exclaimed warmly, giving the man a friendly whop on the back. "Perhaps you could teach me a few tricks, nameless gent. I don't think I ve ever seen her majesty blush so!"
	With the knowledge that she was reddening, Sarah could feel her face warm further. She did not see Sage nudge the man. 
	The band of elves at the front of the room began a new song, and a young elfin male stood forward, preparing to sing. Clearing his voice, the blond-haired man held out his hand. "Perhaps Her Majesty would care to dance?"
	"It would be my pleasure," Sarah answered, forcing herself to act as if she were not overly-excited by the prospect. Yet, as he held her hand once again, his warm and gentle touch caused her to shiver slightly. He looked up at her suddenly when he noticed this tremor, and she saw a great many things mirrored in his eyes. Oh, how many things he seems to say with his eyes! she thought, suddenly feeling faint. There is an entire world there... Such agony, such helplessness... She stared into his face, unabashed and silent, as he began to whirl her about the room.
	Yet, as he dances, the sadness seems to evaporate... Who is he?!! Who is he...?
	The soft, languid voice of the young elf at the front of the room began to echo throughout the hall:
 
A maiden dances through the trees:
I've seen her once, so wild and free.
Upon her brow she wears a mark,
That makes her dance within the dark.
 
A man, I was, with lonely mornings,
 Little interested in love's adornings,
Until I saw her within the wood,
Dancing her dream till she no longer could.
 
 I tried to speak, but speak could not,
Her dance was with neccessity fraught,
Her feet touched ground in somber rite,
As I watched her dance throughout the night.
 
And who thought I would fall in love,
With such a dreamless, fallen dove,
Who danced for forgotten need,
That had no hope to give it lead?
 

 
As the singer stopped momentarily for the band to play the chorus, the man broke the silence. "I have heard from afar that you are a marvelous queen... I am curious to know... Are you enjoying it?" 
	Sarah smiled wanly up at him. "Oh, of course I am. I have everything I could ever wish for. Yet..."
	His mouth turned down into a sympathetic frown. "Yet what?"
	Letting her thoughts out in such an easy fashion that startled herself, Sarah replied, "It takes up all of my energy. I don't get to do much for myself. I don t have any privacy. The list goes on and on..."
	"So," he said sadly, it isn't such a dream come true, after all." 
	"Well, no, I wouldn't say that..." Again, she smiled, her demeanor somewhat distant. "It really is. It is better than living your life knowing that magic is happening somewhere, and you're not a part of it. Here, I have magic. Actually, few people know that I have become a skilled sorceress...of sorts." She laughed. "Yet, I have accidentally turned Sage into a goblin, once. I'm glad he didn t take it badly."
	"Yes," the man said, chuckling. "Sage told me about his experience as a goblin. He said that all he could remember thinking during the time was, 'Gee, I am rather hungry.' No doubt, that was a very similar thought to the ones the inhabitants of this city must have had once upon a time."
	"Yes," Sarah answered, a sudden discomfort washing over her. Suddenly, she was aware of his slender hand at her waist, his green eyes gazing into her, and his strangely high regard for her. The music became more flurried and whispery, and he spun her about the room at a quicker, yet smoother pace. Quiet engulfed their sphere of existence as the elfin song broke through:
	
So now, I take my dancer's hand,
And we dance throughout the wooded land;
If she must dance to dreams unsown,
I will not let her dance alone.
 
Oh dance with me,
Oh dance with me,
Until you feel your heart is free,
And we will dance into the wood--
Not as we must,
But because we could.

Oh dance with me,
Oh dance with me,
And tell me that you finally see,
That love can be more than the dance --
A rising dream,
A rekindled romance.
 
Oh dance with me,
Oh dance with me,
And show me who you think I be,
For, as you are free, you must realize,
I am one you know--
It is in my eyes.
 
The song ended, and the man led her back to her friends, quite breathless and amazed. Sage stared at Sarah thoughtfully, then gave her a knowing smile. Smiling shyly in return, she said, "Well, I have had a wonderful evening with you all. I regret that I cannot continue participating in the ball, but there are things to tend to." She gave the stranger a sweeping glance. "Thank you for the dance."
	"No, Your Majesty. It is I who thank you," he said, giving a deep bow. "I too, must depart. I have preparations to make for tomorrow's festival." He put his hand on Sage's shoulder. "Will you come and see me tomorrow, Sage?"
	"Of course, of course," Sage answered. "I would not miss it for the world."
	"And you, Sarah," the man said as he looked up at her, not realizing that he had used her first name. "How would you like to visit me tomorrow? I should like to hear your opinions."
	Suddenly, Sarah s face flushed white, and she stared back at him as if she had just seen a ghost. "I will come if I have time..." she answered hurriedly. "Thank you for the invitation." With a rushed air, she shook hands with some and gave brief hugs to others. "I bid you all good night." Then she walked quickly from the room and disappeared up a flight of stairs.
	"Well, I wonder what that was all about?" Benedick declared, his brow wrinkling in thought.
	Hoggle gave the man a look similar to that of Sarah's. "It'd look as if she'd seen a ghost," he said, giving the man a purposeful glare. "I hope she don't see it again. I'ud give my life to keep her from gettin' that look on her face again... " After a few moments, the dwarf discontinued his glowering and removed his mask, stomping out of the room in the direction that Sarah had gone.
	"Now he's at it!" Benedick exclaimed, twitching his whiskers in his confusion. "Where did the jovial atmosphere go to?"
	Vindar looked sadly at the man, then at Sage. "Oh, father..." he said mournfully. "It has all gone wrong."
	"It is my fault," the man said with downcast eyes. When he realized who he was standing before, he added quickly, "I must have said something to upset her. I will go now... Please tell me if she is alright tomorrow, will you, Sage?"
	"Yes, yes, of course," Sage said, staring absentmindedly at the staircase where Sarah had gone. "Please, do not worry over it. She will be fine by morning."
	The man turned and left through the crowd, his coat-tail swinging behind him. Leah looked at Sage and asked, "Who the hell was that? All this mumbo-jumbo about not having a a name..."
	"He is a good man who has had a horrible life," Sage explained. "And, about the name, please do not be so quick to judge, my dearest Leah. Things are not always what they seem."
	"Indeed." Leah crossed her arms, and went up the stairs, too. 
	"There goes number three!" the cat announced. "Really, I don't understand what is going on, Sage... Would you mind explaining?"
	"At this point, yes, I would," Sage answered. "And, I think that we should let the solution come of its own accord."
	"Noble advice, if I do say so myself!" Didymus exclaimed as he grabbed a nearby Fiery and began a congo line. "So, shall we, as the Fiery's would say..." he let out a howl and began swinging his tail, "Party?"
	"Marvelous suggestion!" Benedick cried, joining the line. 
	"Ludo -- dance." Ludo waddled over to the end of the line, tilting his head backward and howling accordingly with Didymus example. A bit of debris fell in a friendly manner from the ceiling in response to his howl, and the creatures in the congo line stopped to stare at him. 
	He smiled wistfully at them. "Oops... Sorry."





CHAPTER VII: Reunion 


A white gown of chiffon fluttered in butterfly motions out of the concealment of a bush. One more movement, a graceful step into the arena of the courtyard, and Isabelle could be seen fully, the light breeze teasing her loose, yet waist-fitting dress. Even her hair was not safe from the cool night air. Mouth drawn up at the corners and hands thoughtfully held behind her back, she sauntered over to the fountain and its glistening silver nymphs. Light music drifted in from the ballroom, accompanied by laughter and chatter. In the dusk light Isabelle looked frail, troubled, and alone.
	Somewhere in the depths of the rose-laden shrubbery, two slanted, elfin eyes gazed at this twilight beauty. Hugging the plants and trees close as he followed her in the darkness, he remained at a quiet, careful distance. His eyes twinkled merrily, and a mischievous, yet marveling grin played upon his lips. "What a pearl!" he whispered to himself. "What they all say is true, then... She does look like the queen at a younger age. But... this beauty... so uncertain... so withdrawn... so mysterious..." He quickly bit his lip and made a more earnest pursuit. "And so sad..."
	Isabelle bent over to pick two white roses and placed them behind her ear in decoration. With a soft, crystalline voice she began to sing:

"Maidens were made for certain charms
To tend the hearth with graceful arms
To dance through day and love through night
To dash out wrong and live by right
 
Darkness not should haunt her hours
But should glow so bright with summer flowers
And nothing heavy to weigh her mind
But the thought of some sweet love to find
 
So where is the sunshine
Amidst this heavy rain?
Maidens shouldst not know
The meaning of life's pain.
 
So where is the knight
To slay this monstrous past?
A maiden's one refrain
Should be the song her heart holds fast.
 
 A maiden's love is a lovers' game
A dance that brings her heart to flame
A kiss that lasts from spring to fall
A momentous dance at the yearly ball
 
 Moments of honey to sweeten the mind
Will destroy the bonds which her past binds
A lover's kiss will kiss good-bye
The blighted past that haunts her eye.
  
She continued to hum the tune to herself as she twirled about the fountain, her long hair streaming behind her in her sudden frenzy. It was as if an uncontrollable and unexplainable passion had taken grips of her within her solitude, causing her to react in the only way that came to mind; she would dance the darkness away.
	Suddenly, Isabelle's elfin observer stepped from the shadows and blocked her path, bringing forth a startled yelp from the girl. Even in the darkness it could be seen that she had flushed red with embarrassment; she caught herself quickly and made a faint attempt at sounding unabashed by the surprise encounter. "Oh!" she laughed weakly, "It's you! Vindar, am I right?! You scared me clear out of my skin."
	Vindar stepped back, tall and reflecting no expression from his downturned face. "Dancing alone in the darkness, sweet maiden? This is a ball; you should have a partner." Without warning, a sideways grin took hold of his full mouth. Once again, Isabelle flushed; she smiled for a brief second as she turned to meet his gaze, which waited between slants of eyes that peered from a mischievously tilted head. She seemed to think better of her reaction, and pulled up the ends of her dress to run from the courtyard.
	Vindar quickly dropped his flirtatious demeanor and took on a puzzled expression. It took only a second for him to begin his pursuit. "Playing chase, Isabelle?" he called out buoyantly as he bounded on long legs toward her.
	"No!" she cried breathlessly, not discontinuing her speedy journey. "Just leave me alone! I am completely humiliated, you have gotten what it was you desired!" 
	She turned a corner, and was immediately stopped by Vindar's patient, waiting figure. Before she could turn around and begin running again, Vindar grabbed her arms and twisted them behind her back. "Let me go!" she cried.
	"Not so fast, sweet maiden," he chuckled.
	"Stop calling me that," she said between gritted teeth.
	"Such a frisky creature," he teased. "Very well, my dear, you may go, if you so choose. Just know that my desire was not to humiliate you. Never would I laugh at such a sparkling animal as yourself."
	He released his grip, and she turned to face him, gaining her composure and pulling her hair back with a dignified motion as she did so. "And do not call me 'my dear', Son of Sage. I am not your lover, nor will I ever be."
	He leaned with assuredness against a nearby column. "And why not, Lovely? Are you ashamed to have me even think for a second that I might share your beauty?"
	"Only one person has ever called me 'my dear'," she stated with a sudden sincerity of expression, remorseful and remembering. "And he is gone." Without further words, she turned slowly to enter the castle.
	"Isabelle--"
	She stopped and made a sudden twirling motion to face him. Looking about anxiously, she finally turned her gaze to the elf, almost looking disappointed that she had not found someone other than him awaiting her expectant eyes. "Yes?"
	"That person you refer to... wouldn't be Jareth, would it?"
	Her eyes widened. She wet her mouth carefully. "Jareth... The Goblin King..." She held her arms about herself. "Stop playing games, elf, you don't know the memories you arouse."
	"Would you like to know why I am really here?" Vindar asked quietly, approaching her with careful steps.
	"If it is to taunt me, I--"
	He took her hand. "He is here. To see you. He asked me to bring you to him."
	"He is dead." Tears began to stream down her face. "You are not telling the truth... are you?"
	"See for yourself."
	He stepped back ceremoniously and pointed toward the eastern wall of the courtyard; she followed his motion and floated with purpose to look around the barrier. Sitting at the base of an old elm tree was the blond-headed man. With slow purpose he raised his head and gazed at the young beauty that sought him out. First, he pursed his lips, sighed, and wrung his hands before he found the strength required to smile. Rising, he sifted his full blond hair nervously through his fingers and pulled his other hand from his pocket to reveal some folded sheets of parchment. Isabelle carefully stepped out from behind the concealing wall, her mouth closed tightly and her eyes wide with amazement. With a graceful, yet absentminded motion she smoothed out her dress. The man was silent for several moments before he finally spoke.
	"Isabelle..." He shook his head in wonder and chuckled through a wavering voice. "You certainly have grown into a unique creature." His eyes were hungry, but with a type of longing that expressed care instead of avarice. "I wondered over these years -- I wondered if I would ever live to see this day."
	Walking toward him as if she were approaching a dangerous animal, Isabelle said, "My king? Is it truly you? I-I thought you were dead.... After all this time..."
	"No, Isabelle, I am no longer your king. I was never any kind of king, but more of a monster." He bridged the final length of grass that had separated them. "Now, I am Jareth. Just call me Jareth."
	Tears streamed down her olive skin. "Jareth. I am glad you have returned."
	She smiled weakly, and he abruptly went to embrace her. Hiding her head in his shoulder, she shook as he smoothed her hair out affectionately. 
	"Yes, Isabelle, I am home. At least, for now." Jareth sighed and held her tighter. "You have grown to be so tall... I remember when you were no more than three feet high! I never saw you after your transformation..." He lifted her head to look at her. "To think you were once a goblin, all due to my wickedness. But, even then-- even then your beauty would not be contained. Such a sweet, sweet child, and nothing but wickedness to live in..."
	"You are wrong!" she exclaimed passionately. "You took me away from my father, you saved me from his wickedness! Even if I would have had to remain a goblin for the rest of my life to escape his torment, to stay in your castle, I would have been content!"
	Brushing his hands over her hair he said, "Sarah is caring well for you, I would suppose? You look well... And you have everything you need?"
	"Oh, yes, she is absolutely wonderful..." She smiled wanly. "One of the best friends I have had, or could ever ask for. She's like a mother to me." With a fallen smile she turned down her gaze.
	"What's this?" he asked suddenly. "Why be sad, then? If you have everything you need..."
	"Oh no!" she said with a start, her smile widening without obvious provocation. "I have everything I have ever wanted.... now that I know you are alive." Her expression was sober and her eyes piercing.
	"Oh, sweet Isabelle, sweet darling child..." Holding her hands in his left, he proffered the parchment that lay in his right. "I drew these two years ago, imagining how you would look right now." He laughed softly. "I must confess, they don't match your beauty, but they prove that I have thought about you often, and with happiness and wonder each time."
	She took the paper with trembling hands, and opened them carefully. They were slightly frayed at the edges, and were wrinkled with wear, but the images they depicted once unfolded were true to the artist's claims. It was indeed an exact replica of the girl, drawn meticulously with a gentle hand, depicting in soft and sometimes sharp charcoal lines each contour of her youthful face. A sweet smile played on her lips, and she brought her hand to her mouth to suppress a bewildered laugh. "It is me!" she observed happily. "They are marvelous... I--" She looked up at him in wonder. "I do not know what to make of all this. Even though you were always so kind to me, you seem to be an entirely different person."
	"Well, my dear," Jareth replied, tilting his head to the side and grinning mischievously, "that is because I am. But, I..." He shook his head again as if amazed at himself, and chuckled. "This may sound strange coming from me, for I was never one to admit my feelings with ease, but I will say that there is one way that I have not changed. I still love you Isabelle as I always did. I just hope that it is not too late for me to do it the proper way."
	"You know...." She held his hands tightly and bit her lip. "I waited a very longtime to hear you say that. A very long time."
	"The wait always stops somewhere, I should know. Sometimes we have to make the wait stop ourselves, or we shall end up waiting for eternity." He slipped his arm about hers and suddenly exclaimed, "And, speaking of which, I say we should have a seat by this fine elm to continue our conversation. No use standing in the middle of this courtyard as if we were complete strangers afraid to stray outside of conventional conversation."
	Once they were seated, Isabelle said, "You know, I am not the only one who waited for you to return... But, I'm afraid that the other person I speak of might not be as willing to accept your presence."
	"You do not mean to tell me that it is too late to woo Sarah, now would you?" Jareth replied in a joking tone. "For I will woo her until I die, if need be."
	"Sarah has given up on you."
	Jareth leaned his head back against the tree and closed his eyes. "I know that she has. She was somewhat suspicious of who I was today, when I encountered her at the ball, but I imagine she has convinced herself that I am still dead and gone by now. If not because she truly believes it, then because it is safer to believe so than to try to love me for a third time. That is, if I ever earned her true love."
	"You know you did. But now, well... She doesn't ever speak of it, but I think she began to feel as if you left her out of some cruel persuasion. When you did not return, she changed somehow..."
	Jareth sat upright. "Changed? How so?"
	"Oh, I don't know." She sighed and placed her hands in the folds of her dress. "She doesn't talk to me about her feelings, not like she did when I first met her. Now, she's just the queen, and a marvelous one at that... Charming, funny, always looking out for her friends and minions as if they were the closest people in the land to her."
	A brief silence took reign, and Jareth's eyes hazed over with memory. A smile widened slowly on his countenance. "She sounds like a spectacular queen... Too spectacular."
	Isabelle fingered the silk pleats of her skirt. "Several nights ago, I went to speak with her. It was half-past two in the morning, and I did not expect to find her awake. Peeking into her quarters, I saw her, bent over some treasury scrolls and holding the hair back from her eyes. She was tired. Very tired. I could tell. She looked up, but did not see me..." With a motion intended to imitate that of Sarah's, Isabelle lifted her head wearily. "From the drawer she pulled a crystal sphere, just like the ones you used to cast your spells. She gazed into it, as if seeking someone, then began to twirl it across her fingers, so graceful she was... It was like a tightrope act, for she was the wire and the ball was the acrobat. And then she said, as if to herself, almost as if she were acting out a part, 'I am offering you your dreams...' Sighing, she placed the talisman back into its place in the drawer, and said, 'And he was certainly true to his word. I have everything I could have ever...'" Isabelle drifted off and looked languidly up at Jareth. "And then she began to cry. I had never seen her cry, not in all these years..."
	Jareth consumed each word greedily, looking at the young girl in quiet astonishment. Suddenly, without warning, he diverted all of his attention to the task of departure.
	"Where are you going?" Isabelle called as she too rose.
	"I have things to do, my dear," he replied as he walked backward so that he might face her. His step was light but hurried. "Many, many important things to do!"
	"What are you going to do, Jareth?" she asked, taking only one step in pursuit before stopping.
	"Learn what it is like to live!"
	"And what will you do after that?" Isabelle queried as if dissatisfied with his answer.
	"Show Sarah what I have learned..."




CHAPTER VIII: Suspicions 


Sage managed a silent departure from the festivities. The remaining crowd was fairly small, and those who would most likely stay a few more hours either had intentions of making an important acquaintance or of helping to replete the castle's alcohol supply. The elf routed his journey so that he might pass through the guest quarters and make sure that all of the members of royalty housed there were perfectly comfortable. With a chuckle, he noticed that the only one remaining at the downstairs festivities was Benedick, no doubt being one of those partygoers intent upon getting a healthy dose of the Queen's wine. Sage always kept a handful of Randwine berries on hand during any festivity involving alcohol, for they helped to lessen the effects of the next morning's sicknesses theat resulted from too much alcohol. The clever elf hung the entire bag on Benedick's doorknob, grinning madly as he continued in his journies down the hall. "You lose points, my friend, when you allow yourself to become lost in liquor. I, however, am quite aware of the battle I am fighting." His eyes sparkled in the lamplight as he clucked his tongue.
	He discontinued his mirth when he saw Eberon approaching him from across the hall. Sage's smile turned into a frown, while his pace lost its river-quickness and thickened as honey. "Greetings, Your Majesty," he said with a composed face. "You are enjoying your stay in Sunset City, I expect?"
	The younger elf king looked at Sage with a veiled contempt, grinning at him as if out of some greater wisdom. "Oh, yes, most definitely Sage. Thank you for your concern over my well-being." 
	Sage noted his behavior. The young elf has wicked thoughts on his mind, I would bet my right hand on it. From whence does he earn this disrespectful sarcasm? He has not changed, although he puts a different face on for Sarah and the other royalty. You would be wise to know, young fool, that I am not the old, helpless elf you have taken me for, now, or in the past. He discontinued his thoughts with a wry smile similar to Eberon's. "Why, I am constantly in curiosity over your health, young elf. Since your father's departure, I have made it my responsibility to keep an eye on your living. I should not consider myself a good man if I did not take concern over my close friend's son in his wake."
	"Well, you need not worry about me, Sage for my living is not your responsibility, and I hope you do not burden yourself over undue concern," Eberon replied, his head cocked to the side in arrogance. "Speaking of well-being, you look very fit, good Sage. The Queen has taken splendid care of you."
	"Friends take care of each other. That is truly the way of things." 
	"Well, thank the heavens that I have been put into the throne and can be a better man for having no one care for me." His eyes slanted shrewdly and he put his hands behind his back. "Now, if you will excuse me, I have some important matters to attend to."
	With no more words said, he turned and walked toward his chambers. Sage watched silently a moment as the impertinent young elf walked away, his fine cape glittering beneath the glow of the candles lining the walls. It is truly no trouble, dearest Eberon. I will watch you as if my life depended upon it. Perhaps it shall, someday. Just as Sage had completed his musings, he turned and ran into a frustrated Hoggle, who was apparently returning from a visit to Sarah's chambers. 
	"Oh, sorry Sage, didn't see you coming," he grunted, continuing his hurried pace down the hall. 
	Sage grabbed the dwarf by the shoulders and turned him so that they were face to face. "Not so fast, my friend, what is the need for haste?"
	"No big deal. Only that Sarah's bein' stubborn as a goat, if I ever did see one. 'Well, you think it was Jareth standin' out there?' I ask her. 'No, leave me be, it don't matter,' she says. 'You sure looked like you seen a ghost out there,' I says. 'Well, you were imaginin' things,' she says to me. Fancy that! I was imaginin' things! 'Old Hoggle's no fool, he knows what he saw,' I say. 'Well, then, you can see the door. Leave by it.' She kicked me out of her room! I ain't ever seen her act like that! I could spit fire right now!"
	Sage furrowed his brow and put his finger to his chin in thought. "That is very queer behavior for Sarah, indeed."
	"I know that was Jareth, with every ounce of my bein'. The old rat's come to claim his kingdom, now that she's done come and fixed it up for him. I bet that was his game all along. Why that snake, I'd--"
	"Now, now, let us not be quick to conclusions, Hoggle. However, if Sarah does think she saw Jareth, do you think it would be easy for her to admit it to herself that she had? I think that her fright over seeing him again is most likely the cause of her strange behavior. Trust me, she will be herself in the morning and apologize to you for her harsh words."
	"Yeah, I suppose yer right. By the sky, I know I've been that difficult and more to her when she has tried to help me in the past. Maybe we can --"
	"Am I allowed in this little convocation?" Leah asked as she descended the stairs, her arms crossed and a frown on her face.
	"She got ya too?" Hoggle said.
	"Oh no, she didn't get me and I didn't get her. She just evaded the whole issue, expertly and with the touch of an experienced politician. Apparently she had gotten the fire out of her blood by the time you left, Hoggle."
	Sage rose his hands, palms outward, and said, "Now, I would advise that everyone calm down a bit, you have all made up your minds --"
	"That Jareth is roaming around the castle, waiting any minute to strike? I sure as Hell believe it. You're not going to try to satiate me, as Sarah did, now are you, Sage?"
	"No, but I am going to urge you to calm down and look at the whole issue logically. Let us assume, first, that this person is just a normal man, trying to woo a beautiful woman. He has not acted in any way out of character for a gentleman, and he has merely hidden his identity in the fashion typical of a masquerade ball, and has picked up rather dramatically on the whole mysterious atmosphere that the entire fortnight is to possess. Now, it truly should not matter to you who this man is. Would you expect me to take on a companion less than worthy of Sarah's company?"
	"Yeah, that's right, I forgot," Hoggle said, the wrinkles in his face lessening as a result of a new thought. "Sage knows him. He's gotta be okay. Sage would never get hung up with the likes of Jareth."
	"You are correct in one very important thing, Hoggle; I would never have a close friendship with anyone who behaved as Jareth did when I knew him four years ago."
	"That means we don't have anything to worry about from this guy then, right?" Leah asked, her eyes still angled in suspicion.
	"He would not harm a fly. Take my word. I will clear up the issue with Sarah."
	"I'm glad to know it," Hoggle said, his shoulders relaxing noticeably. "If that's the case, I'll leave Sarah to you and go finish preparing for my trip on the morrow. I gotta get my folks and bring'em here."
	"I almost forgot, in the confusion. When do you leave, Hoggle?" Sage asked.
	"At the crack of dawn. I should be back in time for the opening of the Labyrinth. The Spangores have offered to take me."
	"That is excellent. I hope that you have a safe journey." 
	"Good evenin', Sage. Good evenin', Missy."
	Leah smiled wearily. "Good night, Hoggle."
	"Yes, Good Night, good man." As Hoggle departed, Sage chuckled and said, "Well, now, we have had quite an exciting day."
	Leah turned to give him a piercing gaze. "Sage, I have always trusted you, but, I still have suspicions. I still feel in my bones that the man we saw tonight was Jareth. If it is, if he so much as shows his face, I will do whatever is in my power to rid the kingdom of his presence. I do not trust him, and I would hate for Sarah to lose what precious things she has worked so hard for in the past few years. Especially her peace of mind. I saw how she had her hopes hung on his return four years ago, and I knew long before she finally figured it out that he wouldn't come back. I will not let him toy with her emotions as he once did. I used to think she'd be strong enough to encounter him again and get rid of him, but, after tonight, I am not so sure. A part of her is still in love with him - God knows why - and she has too much at stake to get lost in the confusion he is so talented in creating. I know you will do what's best for her, in your own mind, Sage, but you need to know my position."
	"You do not trust me, then, or my judgement?" Sage observed softly.
	"You never once denied that it was Jareth. I know you well enough to know that you would have said it outright if it hadn't been him."
	"I cannot say anything, but you are very wise, wise beyond your years. Dear Leah, the only advice I can offer is for you to look beyond the surface. If you think I love Sarah and would not put her in harm's way, if you value me as a good and wise man, then you will see a contradiction between what you perceive me to be doing and what it is likely that I am doing. If you believe me to be a consistent and honest man, then be aware that my consistency will not falter in any situation." He held her hand gently between his own slender hands and smiled. "You are truly a good friend to our Queen. She is indeed a lucky woman to have friends such as you and Hoggle. If you value me or my friendship any, I beg you to keep silent about your thoughts until you perceive a danger."
	"Very well, if you wish me to."
	"Thank you most kindly." He released her hands from his grasp and his smile became a weary one. "Now, my dear, if you will escuse me, I must go speak with Sarah myself."
	"Yes, I think you should."
	"Good night, Leah. Have good rest."
	"I will try. I hope you have a pleasant rest, too, Sage." She turned around and walked toward her quarters, her sneakers peeking from beneath her gown.
	What a remarkable young woman... I have never seen anyone have such extreme bouts of anger and wit, balancing caution with consideration. Her love for her friend is also amazing. I knew a young man like that once, but his friendship is far away from me in time. I wonder what ever happened to him? Ah, well, tis no matter, now is the time to see how Sarah is doing.
 
* * * 

Outside, in the courtyard, a small group of sundry creatures, mostly elves, had gathered to enjoy the wine and weather. Sir Didymus had found himself at the center of a small crowd, telling stories of his bravery, as had become the custom of late. His usually keen balance seemed a bit awry, and his speech was sometimes less than perfectly crisp, but he had not stopped his narrative for an instant. He was relating an adventure he had had with Sarah in which he, Sarah, and Ludo were attempting to enter the Goblin City nine years ago to recapture Toby; he thought it fitting for the occassion. His elf friend Anala was sitting beside him, her golden curls sparkling as brightly as her eyes.
	"I do thay, the goblin chapth were thleeping at the doorth of the, the, ah, the Goblin Thity. What louthy fellowth, tho terrible a job of guarding if I dare thay tho."
	"What did you do then, Didymus?" Anala asked, surely having heard the story a million times, but no doubt loving to urge him to continue with his favorite past-time -- bragging. It often proved humorous.
	"The only thing I could," he replied matter-of-factly. He bent over and put his nose before a random elf's face, and said, "I thnuck up quietly, like tho, and I..." he paused a moment for drama, stumbling in an effort to keep standing in such a bent-over position. "I THOUTED FOR HIM TO WAKE UP AND LET UTH IN THAT INSTANT, I MOST THERTAINLY DID!!!"
	The elf sat silently a moment while Didymus stood in his place, seeming either to wait for a reaction or figure out what it was he had been saying only a moment ago. "Er, what wath I driving at?" he finally said, as he moved his jaw with embarrassment from side to side.
	"Is that alcohol on your breath, Didymus?" the young elf said with simple curiosity.
	Didymus stood up, gallantly thrust his staff before him, swayed a bit, and slurringly replied, "I hath... nether touched a drop of that stuff in my life, and I am inthulted that thou shoulsdth thuggest thuch a thing."
	One elf broke out into riotous laughter, and Anala shouted, "Stop it, Gingha, you shouldn't mock him!"
	"Oh, oh I can't help it! He is such a doof!" Gingha replied, holding his sides in his mirth.
	"I do declare, Didymus," Anala said softly, attempting to keep from laughing herself, "you appear to be a bit snarzled."
	"Tharnzled? Not I!" In his excitement he thrust his staff, which went flying from his ill-responsive hand and nearly hit the riotous Ginghis. Ginghis glanced a moment at his possible peril, then broke out into even more riotous laughter.
	"Ginghis, you snaswharfed his drink, didn't you? I declare, you naughty elf, you know better than to snaswharf such a noble knight!"
	"You, you thathwharfed my dwink?" Sir Didymus said in a confusion that was slowly evolving into angered understanding. "To arms, then, Thir! I demand a battle to mine honor!"
	Anala went to him and held him by the shoulders, coaxing, "Now, now, my dear Didymus, you are fairly snarzled and Ginghis is a superb swordsman. I don't suggtest you make any such suggestion right now. Think about it a minute."
	"Think! You thuggest I think about it?"
	"Yes, wait. Be cautious."
	"Be cauthious? Why never! I am a noble Knight! I fear no one! No one tarnithes mine armor and geth away with it! En garde!" 
	Ginghis pulled out his small elvin sword, laughing all the while. "If you wish it, noble Knight, but I will make a fool of you yet."
	"No one makes of fool of me!!" the fox shouted, then lunged drunkenly at the young elf, who merely stepped aside to avoid the point of his blade. The fox landed with a thump on the tile floor.
	"Stop while you're ahead, fox, I don't want to hurt you," Ginghis said with half sarcasm, half sincerity.
	"Stop it, Ginghis, he doesn't know what he's doing. You've already done enough harm, now let him be," Anala begged.
	Sir Didymus lifted his head with difficulty and said, "I know exathly what I'm doing."
	Ginghis shrugged his shoulders and smiled wanly out of the corner of his mouth. "I'm telling you, the doof hasn't had enough. He's bent on skewering me."
	"Oh, you impossible elfling boy!" Anala cried in frustration. She ran to help Didymus stand up. "Come on, Didymus, that's enough fighting for one night."
	"Not unthil my honor ist requited!" Didymus shouted, whipping his sword before Ginghis' still figure. With a few deft motions of Ginghis hand, Didymus' trousers were on the floor. Didymus looked down, pulled his trousers up as quickly as he possibly could in his state, then turned around solemnly, head hung.
	"Now see what you've done, you are a fine comedian! His feelings are injured! Who's the doof now?" Anala stood before him, her arms crossed and her brow furrowed.
	"What can I say? I'm sorry for him. I didn't know his feelings would be hurt so by it." Ginghis sheathed his sword. "But, I tell you, it would have not nearly frustrated the chap so badly if he would learn more self-control."
	"Like you, you prankster?"
	"Ah, who needs my mother when I have you, Anala?" He chuckled good-naturedly and said, "I am truly sorry. I will apologize to him tomorrow, when he is less likely to kill me."
	"Yes, maybe you will be less snarzled by tomorrow, yourself," she answered, lessening her severe expression only fractionally. She turned to see Didymus sitting on a bench, his head hung. She found him a hot, sobering drink from a nearby refreshment table, and brought it to him. "Here you go, Didymus, this drink will clear the haze a bit. But, be careful, it is hot."
	The fox took the drink quietly, and lapped up a good portion of it. "Thank you, Anala, I feel much better."
	There were a few moments of silence before Anala said, "Do not be too angry at Ginghis... He is used to playing his pranks among elves, who are much used to such foolishness. He didn't think of the consequences. He is truly sorry for upsetting you."
	"If I hadst not been so quick to battle, I would not have been stripped of my honor or my... clothing." Didymus sighed heavily and finally said, "Anala, dost thou think I am brave?"
	"Why, yes Didymus, why do you ask that?"
	"I do not know... I feel very foolish presently, not much like a knight at all." 
	Anala sighed, then said, "How long have we known each other, Didymus?"
	"Since I met you in the forest four years ago, when the others and I were reunited with Sarah on our last quest."
	"That is four years, then," Anala observed. "In that time, I have noticed some very loveable, yet sometimes hurtful, patterns in your behavior."
	"Please tell me then, fair maiden. I am much at a loss if I have not confronted the unknightly things in my own behavior."
	Anala swept a golden lock from her hair, and held Didymus' paws between her hands. Nearby the group began to disperse, and creatures said their goodbyes. "I will relate to you a story that should help you to understand. As a matter of fact, it's the very story you started to tell tonight." From her tunic, Anala brandished a talisman that glowed and pulsated with light. The very air seemed to fog as the image of the events she was preparing to describe came before them. In the image, Didymus was beating on the helmet of the sleeping Goblin Guard. "Do you remember how you were so unafraid of who was up against you?" Anala said, her voice distant. Sir Didymus' image shouted, 'Open up, I say!' Sarah stood beside him, looking extremely distraught. 'Please,' she pleaded in hushed tones, trying to calm the excited Didymus and get him to be quiet. 
	"You remember how Sarah tried to quiet you, but you were adamant that you could face them all?" Anala asked.
	'Let them all wake up!' Didymus' image cried as he continued his beating. 'I shall fight them all to the death!'
	'Please! Please, Sir Didymus. For my sake, could you please try to make no noise?' Sarah begged.
	Anala spoke in the background, "Now, Didymus, why barge in when it is safer to sneak? You do not wake the owner of the house you are trying to break into. Now, see what you said in reply to her pleading:"
	'But of course,' Didymus assured her. 'For thee, anything. But I am not a coward?'
	'Oh, no,' she replied adamantly.
	'And my sense of smell is keen?'
	'Oh, yes!'
	'Then I shall fight anyone, anywhere, anytime!' Didymus shouted in a crescendo, to which Sarah responded by holding her hand over his mouth.
	Anala put her hand on Didymus' shoulder and the image before them disappeared. Her voice lost its echo. "Do you remember what happened when you finally went through the gates?"
	"I remember as I remember my own name," Didymus replied. "We were greeted by a large Goblin robot that attempted to remove our heads from our bodies."
	"Yes, that is right. Have you ever wondered if perhaps your noise hadn't warned the goblins of your approach? Perhaps you could have avoided the robot and the battle within the goblin city, as well."
	"But, I performed well in battle, as a knight must. A knight must have battles, mustn't he?"
	Anala chuckled kindly. "Yes, but even a knight must choose his battles. The valor you display is what we elves like to call bandarat. It is a kind of courage that is foolhardy, without caution. You wouldn't have lost your pants if you had not prompted Ginghis to fight. You are truly a brave fox, Didymus, but you seek too often to prove your bravery. The best of knights use their bravery in battle only when absolutely necessary, and sometimes must use their bravery to avoid a fight. Do you understand what I am saying?"
	"My ear is perked to thine explanation in great sadness, Lady. I understand all that you have said, and feel I must tend to it immediately. I see how little of a knight I hath been, and I must requite my foolish behavior. Thank you for your observations. I must go and tend to Ambrosius, now. It is his feeding time."
	"Oh, wait, Didymus! You are taking this all wrong!" Anala exclaimed to his retreating figure. He did not stop at her calls, and continued to walk toward the stables, clutching the waistline of his pants and hanging his head in despair. "Oh, Didymus," Anala sighed quietly to herself as she sat down. "Sometimes you can be a doof. I just hope you don't hurt yourself by going the other extreme."
 
* * * 

Sage eased open Sarah's door and walked in on softly-soled feet. Sarah looked up from where she was writing on a scroll, but quickly turned back to her work. "Now you've come to fret over me, I see."
	"Well, you have made quite a scene this evening, I don't see why not. What is the matter, Sarah?" Sage closed the door behind himself and came to her side.
	"Perhaps I don't wish to speak of it," Sarah replied. "I have a great many other things on my mind presently, without having to think of what happened earlier this evening. I will sort it out when I have time, on my own. It is truly no one else's concern."
	"You are so very wrong, Sarah. It is the concern of all of your friends. It is our job to rush to your aid when you have a problem. You can only be so brave, Sarah. You need friends to lean on in times of great distress."
	Sarah dropped her quill pen and turned about suddenly. "The only distress I have at the moment is the planning of several asundry events for the morrow, and that is enough, thank you very much. So, please, leave me be. I have enough to worry about." She seemed to pause to await Sage's reaction.
	It took him a few moments to gather his speech, and he finally said, "You have never behaved so badly to any of your companions, Sarah. I do not appreciate your unwarranted mistreatment of me or Hoggle or Leah, for that matter. You have drowned out the shouting of your brain for a long time with your work, but it must stop at the point where it begins to hurt others. You cannot forget your love for Jareth by shouting over it with letters and numbers and speeches and festivals."
	"What did you say?" Sarah cried in bewilderment.
	"You know exactly what I have said, Sarah. And you know it is right. Regardless of whether or not the man you met is Jareth, you cannot hide from your feelings for him forever."
	"I will have you know, Sage, that Jareth chose his destiny with me long ago, when he was too coward to show his face again." Sarah rose from her seat and stood before Sage with a bitter countenance. "Jareth has long been dead in my heart, my friend, and I have no desire to meet him again. The feeling I had tonight was uncontrollable anger. I believed indeed that it was Jareth standing before me, and it was my confusion and hatred that caused me to leave the festivities. However, if you truly wish to know what has been on my mind, I have decided that you would never be so treacherous as to put Jareth in your friendship, let alone inflict pain on me by so obviously putting him in my path again. Besides, that man acted nothing like Jareth, even if he did briefly sound like him. So, dear Sage, this matter is closed, and we shall not speak of Jareth again." 
	Sarah prepared to return to her seat at the desk, but Sage spoke before she could finish her journey. "On the contrary, my queen, you will sit down and hear all of that which I have to say." 
	Slowly Sarah swivelled about, astonished by the commandment in his tone. "If you wish, but I do not take kindly to you ordering me around in such a fashion."
	"Well, dear Sarah, I do not appreciate how short you have been with me tonight, either. You may be a queen, but you forget that my wisdom is indeed greater than yours. So, please sit and hear all I have to say. You owe me that much as your friend."
	Sarah sat down upon her bed, her face recovering from slight shock. "Very well, I have done as you have asked. Speak freely."
	"You have grown strong and wise, Sarah, but seem to be a bit lacking in matters concerning yourself." Sage paced the room, his hands behind his back. "I know for a fact that you have not forgotten Jareth as easily as you like to pretend. I would understand if you had merely forgotten him, and moved on with your life, but you have not done so. You have longed greatly for him, and still do to this day, and you have tried to drown out your heart with anger. You could not bear your anger, however, so you tried to drown it out by working harder, Sarah. I believe you are an excellent queen, but you have taken your duty to the level of compulsion. I can no longer stand by while your frustration over your true unhappines is causing you to injure your caring friends. Now, please, let go of your anger, and admit your love for Jareth. It will cost you no dishonor."
	Sarah looked at him with trance-like eyes, and answered with unshaking voice, "You are wrong. I bear no love for him. You are wrong."
	Sage looked her in the eye, stopped his pacing, narrowed his eyes and said, "Is that so?" Carefully, he turned to face her desk, then back to face her. "We shall see."
	"What are you going to do?" Sarah asked with slight confusion, but with a vague understanding that seemed to push her composed expression to one of anxiety.
	Sage did not answer, but went to her desk, opened a drawer, and pulled out the crystal sphere that was housed there. He held it high above his head, almost as a dramatic gesture. Sarah rose suddenly from her seated position, but did not seem to have the strength to move any further. Her expression was one of unabaited fear. "Do not do it, Sage, put it down."
	"Why not?" Sage asked, lowering the crystal in hopes of her honest reply.
	"There is no reason, I just find it to be a pretty ornament to have about," she replied, her expression suggesting nothing of the triviality her words were declaring.
	With one swift motion, Sage threw the crystal against the floor. It shattered in a tinkling cascade, its slivers melting quickly away to a watery form before they disappeared. Sarah's face seemed held in the motions of a scream, but no sound came from her mouth. Finally, she gasped, saying, "My, my crystal, you, you shattered it..." She then looked up at Sage, whose expression had softened into pity, and she fell to her knees, covering her eyes as she sobbed. "Oh, God, what a fool I have been!"
	Sage walked to her side, and pressed her head against his shoulder. "There, there, it is all right, dear Sarah. Cry all you need. We have shattered a good deal more than this crystal tonight, I should think."
	"Sage," she sobbed into his shoulder, "I am so hurt, still, to this day... Never have I found such a match, never have I loved someone so hopelessly... I do not believe I could ever forgive him, even if he were to be standing before my eyes tomorrow, this second! My heart has frozen, I cannot love him again the way I once wished."
	Sage stroked her hair gently and answered, "You never know, Sarah. We sometimes have a way of growing beyond our own expectations. Do not wonder if you can love him again. Who knows? He may never show and you may grow beyond this pain. Yet, if he were to show up even this very morrow, you might see your heart thaw like winter snow in the summer sun. Do not make a decision now. Give yourself space. Many things can happen in the space of a few hours. Perhaps, even, you will fall in love again within the next twenty-four hours."
	Sarah looked up at his grinning face, wiped her eyes, and responded to his joking with a weary smile. "I very seriously doubt that, my friend, but you can continue to hope. I still say you are trying to woo me yourself."
	"Oh, she is on to me!" Sage declared, throwing his head back dramatically. "So much for making you fall in love with me without your own knowledge! I guess I am not as sly as I thought!"





CHAPTER IX: The Contest Begins 



Sarah opened the door to Isabelle's room, looking slightly flushed and tired