CHAPTER XVI: Only a Dream 


One toe, then a whole foot, then another touched the concrete of an alley off Broadway. Soon enough, two claws gripped the edge of a nearby windowsill, their owner whistling in amazement at the surroundings. The companions walked from the shadows of their landing site to make a further ground exploration of what they had viewed from above.
	"Geeze, would ya look at all those lights!" Rattlebeak exclaimed. "What kind of magic can do this?"         Toby bit his lip in awe, but was still able to mumble a reply. "Er, just a different sort, that's all. It's called electricity. Scientists create this stuff."        
	 "Well, I gotta say that these scientists can make a better light show than when Hoggle gets together all the paper lanterns that the light guild can make in two seasons! Electricity is a curious magic..." The bird perched atop the boy's shoulder. It was not long before people were passing them by, giving themodd stares.         
	"Heya, Rattlebeak..." Toby mumbled.         
	"Huh?" The question brought the abrupt attention of a passer-by who seemed to consider the possibility of the bird's speech, and soon discounted it.         
	"You might not want to speak so loud," he continued in a whisper. "Birds don't talk on our world. Unless you're a parrot, and you don't look at all like a parrot."         
	"What do, uh -- parrots -- talk about?"        
	"Just crackers. They always want to eat crackers." Toby shrugged his shoulders. "They're green, mostly."         Toby began to walk aimlessly, looking around in amazement. Few seemed to find it strange to see a young boy walking down Broadway, talking to himself and the little red bird on his shoulder. The bird looked around as well, shivering at a thought. He quietly murmered to himself, "Hmph. Green. Terrible color for a bird. Can't stand green birds."         
	"Whatcha got against green birds?" Toby asked, digging around in his pockets.         
	"Talk too much."         
	The boy chuckled. "I thought only red birds talked too much."         
	The bird's response was curt. "Hmph."         
	The boy switched his search from his jacket pockets to his blue jeans. "C'mon, gotta be somethin' here..."          
	"Whatcha lookin' for?" Rattlebeak queried.         
	"I'm lookin' for money. The one thing you can't make with magic. That's something Sarah used to tell me... and I think she's right, because I'm really wishing for some right now, and I don't have a bit."         
	"What do ya need money for?"          
	"Food. I'm starvin'."         
	"Now that you mention it, I'm a little hungry myself. What kind of food can we get in New Yak?"         Toby chuckled. "Keep it up, and you'll really sound like you're from here. It's New York, Rattlebeak."         
	"Whatever. So, how are we gonna get some grub?"         
	Toby looked around a bit. "Hmm, I don't know. I guess I could wish something... but I don't want to do it in front of all these people. Besides, anything that could fit in my pocket probably wouldn't do me any good. I need abig pizza, or something. How about we look around for a place to sit down...? Maybe while we're looking we can figure out where Sarah... er, her shadow, or whoever ... is at right now."         
	"Sounds like a good plan to me," Rattlebeak replied. "Where are you gonna start?"         
	"I don't know, but I hope a solution comes along soon."         
	Rattlebeak pointed a wing toward the jeweled curtains behind the window of a shop. "How about that?" A sign behind the glass read, "Find your answers here... Ask Madame Marlena to reveal your path. Other worldy powers show the underground road of your existence." Toby gave the bird a sidelong glance. "I think I can get used to this wish stuff."   

* * *

A hazy, lazy light fell across the room from a few candles dispersed in random places. Flowery perfumes scented the air, probably due to the number of bottled fragrances that lie in neat rows on the bureau. Voices and screams echoed from without the room, as chaos reigned throughout the castle. Somehow, within Sarah's bedchamber, all of these worries seemed trivial and emasculated. Peace took its grip in the silence that echoed through the room, in the sweet expression of sleep that rested on her face as it glowed in the flickering candlelight. Nearby Jareth sat, his cushioned chair sitting inches from herbed, his chin resting on his fist as he gazed quietly at her. Sage was tending to matters within the castle, leaving Jareth with the much longed-for respite that involved staring at the woman he had so long loved and so long missed. It was the first peace that they had shared since the beginning of this escapade, though she was unconscious for the event. It was a problem he was debating on solving or not. He knew the means, but couldn't calculate their rightness.         
	A handmade piece of paper lay in his lap, its edges possessing the worn nature characteristic of self-designed parchment. Next to him sat a little wooden box filled with blocks of colored pastels and charcoal. He lifted his left hand and gazed at it, rubbing the fingers together, thus smudging the brightly colored chalk that decorated them into a murky brown. With a gentle glance he looked into the box, fingering each piece of chalk, rummaging through them to find a certain hue. He successfully found a vivid green, only indicated as such by the few areas where the outer surface had chipped away -- the close contact of the other pieces had muddied its exterior with sundry colors. He carefully wiped away the mud onto the fabric of his fine trousers, unconcerned for the state of his clothing. It left a brownish mark where he wiped, but had successfully burnished the piece of chalk to its true glowing nature. With it he began to draw in a furious, emotional stroke that simultaneously cut and caressed the paper. A dress emerged; Sarah's dress, but quite contrary to the true color that it possessed. Hints of green made themselves evident in the surroundings of this rendered queen, and it became apparent that she was sleeping in a forest. Again he rummaged through the box of colored blocks, emerging with alight brown tone. It wasn't long before her face appeared, almost as if she had been hiding within the dress, and was crawling out to see her new world, like a turtle in a sacred shell, moved from place to place by the outside force of a human being. Trunks and roots surrounded her on all sides, reflected in the water of a nearby lake. Growing, loving, the environment was birthed by the brandished tools of the artist's possessed hand and mind. Jareth was consumed in his paper worship, his pupils wide and mesmerized as his hand seemed to draw of its own accord. As the ritual seemed to approach its conclusion, a decision seemed to have been made. The hand moved slower, the eyes grew deeper, and the sleeping angel emerged as a new world emerged on all sides. Pinks and blues of a queen's bedchamber transcended and merged into a green, until the green overpowered and pillows had become tree roots, blue carpet was green grass, and the mirror of the bureau a rippling, blue-green lake. Jareth sat, spent, on a large, half-submerged tree root across from the sleeping queen. The only magic Jareth possessed from his fall of four years ago was one that came only from his deepest passions and long-practiced skill. It could create the illusion of different places, and could awake the sleeper from within.          
	"Jareth?" Sarah stretched her arms, yawning luxuriously. She sat up on the root and leaned against the trunk of the tree that claimed its nether depths. Her bright green dress flowed all around her. "What are you doing here?" Looking around like an enchanted child, Sarah smiled tranquilly. "Hmm, this is the place I like to dream best. It's funny how I always come here to dream. It's a little like a place I had been some time back... I guess it has some significance, but I just think it's beautiful in its own right. What do you think of this place? I don't think I have ever dreamed of you here before."         
	"It is very lovely, Sarah," Jareth answered as he gazed at her intensely, but half-smiling under the surface.         
	"Yes, it is. Hmm, I wonder why this is the first time I have dreamed you here? I guess it doesn't matter. I can show you, now." Like a lively child, she jumped from her seated position and grabbed Jareth's hand.
	She walked with him through the forest, dreamy-eyed and gazing all about.  The clearing ran alongside a small lake, where a tiny inlet of mountain curved gracefully at the edges, releasing a gentle waterfall into the lake, where it flowed out into a river that seemed, due to the distortions of this imaginary world, to flow straight back to Sunset City.  
	In the distance, Sunset City morphed back and forth into the Goblin City, the sky at once brooding and bright.  Magicmockers filled the trees, singing gracefully and paving the way for good fortune.  All that went on was immediately reminiscent of Sarah's long ago journey through the Underground where she sought out the amethyst for the long ago Jareth.  Trees would sway to and fro to reveal fieries dancing in the distance, the beast men were in another nook, playing with their children, and someone was coming to Hoggle's father, The Bookkeeper, to gain some form of wisdom.  It seemed as if Sarah actually longed for the old days of adventure, to find a place of lesser responsibility, and to explore once again like a boundless child.
	"I know what this place is, now," Sarah said suddenly, gazing up at Jareth with smiling eyes.  She held both of his hands before her and spun to face him.  "This is where the Magicmockers helped me to get Hoggle and the others out of the dungeon.  And this is also where I met the elves, and Sage."
	Jareth became downcast.  "Yes, I know.  I'm sorry for all of the heartache I caused you, Sarah."
	"What for?" Sarah exclaimed.  "We had a grand time!  I danced with Vindar, and saw Didymus in rare form..."  Her eyes drifted off into the distance, and soon she was giggling hysterically and running away, clutching her dress between her fingertips.
	"Sarah, wait!" Jareth ran after her, trying his best to catch up with her in the forest.  She was a sparkling nymph in his eyes at that moment, the pure essence of all that was joy and wonder.  The darkness that had always crept at the edges of his demeanor like a stubborn rust at the place where screw and metal meet, this darkness fell away under the sunshine of the child within the woman.  Soon he found himself laughing as she did, and, since he knew this was a dream and that she did not, he slipped behind one tree far behind her, and came out magically from another directly before her.  He caught her between his arms, and they laughed like little imps escaping the cries of the governess to come home.  
	Soon their laughter was calmed by a deeper emotion that grew strong with their fixed gaze.
	"Oh Sarah, how lovely you are.  If only I could make you see my intentions, if only we could be as such in wakefulness..."
	She put up a finger to silence him.  "Though I may forget this is a dream when I wake, I forgive you here and now."
	He was startled.  "Do you mean that you know that you are dreaming?"
	"Yes...  Ever since you left and I began to learn magic, I have found myself dreaming lucidly more and more as time passes.  It's not completely under my control...  You always do what you will within the dream."
	"What do I do in your other dreams?"
	"That doesn't matter.  I feel this dream is shortly over...  And then I will be alone."
	"No you won't, Sarah.  I will always be with you."  Jareth's eyes were ablaze in fiery green hues.
	"I know you are not there in the real world, Jareth...  Nor will I remember this dream.  But I will remember a kiss."
	He wanted to protest, to make her realize that he was there in reality, sitting beside her bed and willing to do whatever she would ask.  Instead, he brushed her hair aside and looked into those brown eyes that had kept him awake and raving in a deep sweat that came from longing many a night.  Her lightly pink cheeks flushed with emotion, full lips asking only to be kissed...
	Emotion was so real and tangible that the kiss was a barely sufficient accent.  Their lips came together, passionate and full of motion, their arms clasped about one another as if the world could not provide foundation.  He gripped her hair gently but firmly between his fingers, every sensation wild in his body with only the kind of feeling that something other than reality could possess him with.  She stood on her toes, her fingers pressed deeply into his neck, caressing and kneading his skin, finding corporal expression of the ephemeral.  The trees rocked and swayed toward them, bending inward as if their joining was stretching the world in toward them, where it would be sucked up into a black hole.
	And then it stretched in the opposite direction.  The noise of a shrieking mountain came from the distance; they parted, barely able to pull their gaze away from each other in order to look in the direction of the sound.  The rumbling increased, and it was suddenly obvious that a great earthquake had begun, rending the ground beneath them in two.  
	"Sarah!  What is happening?" Jareth shouted above the din.
	A new look took Sarah over, and she seemed resigned, a slave.  "The dream is coming to an end, my love."  Her balance thrown awry, she attempted to gain stability by leaning against a tree.  She was weak and fragile.
	"Whatever it is, you can stop it, Sarah!  This is your dream!"  Jareth stepped along the edge of the break, trying to find a place to jump across.  He even tried to will his way to the other side, but nothing would work.  There was a strange resistance in the air.
	"Goodbye...  I think I am going away..."  
	The other half of the world disappeared, taking Sarah with it.  Jareth was left staring into a white, windfilled void, empty of everything but fluttering leaves, suddenly dead.
	It did not take Jareth long to realize what had happened.

* * *

The crow cawed, pleased at his handiwork.  He flew out of the doorway with the amethyst shard in his claws, his beating wings causing a breeze that beckoned the candle flames to look in his direction.  Behind him he left an empty hole in the wall, a vacated bed, and one half of a drawing, depicting Jareth, sullen and without hope.





CHAPTER XVII: For the Birds 


Sage mumbled a few words, and Jareth returned to reality.  Stumbling a bit from the switchover, he steadied himself on the shorter elf.  
	"I-I couldn't stop it.  I tried a spell, but-"
	Sage laid a hand upon his shoulder.  "Yes, I know, I am sure I know what happened.  Do not worry, Jareth, we'll find a way."
	"He has her.  I can only begin to guess what he will do with her."  He glanced to the hole in the wall.  "Clever girl.  But he has it.  He must have found where she hid the shard."  Jareth grabbed his jacket and started out of the room.
	Sage blocked him.  "No, don't go."
	"I must find her, Sage...  Somehow."
	"You can't rush off to her rescue without a plan.  Besides...  the majority of the elfin kingdom is surrounding the city."
	"What are they doing at a time like this?"
	"Why, declaring war, my good chap.  It seems that Eberon is as untrustworthy as I suspected."
	"How did they get past the Labyrinth walls?"
	"The Spangores flew them in, of course."
	Jareth smirked, without humor. "Oh, of course. Has everyone gone mad?"
	"Yes."  Sage smiled as if the announcement meant no more than a "howdy do."
The doors flew open, and a group of elves entered, Eberon in the lead.  He looked as pleased as a cat with it's paw on the rat's tail, yet twice as fidgety.  
	Sage turned to face them calmly.  "Oh, hello, we were expecting you."
"A sharp wit until the end, eh?" Eberon prodded, poking him a bit with his sword.  
	"This is hardly the end, fellow, but, yes, my wit is always keen."
	Jareth chimed in.  "It keeps us sane when having to put up with the shenanigans of chaps like yourself."  
"Enough prattle.  Take them to the dungeons."
	Sage held back the birdlike creatures who were in Eberon's entourage, and addressed the slender king.  "Wait.  I must know... why have we not been affected by the birds?  The crows... do they not bring about madness?"
Eberon chuckled maliciously.  "You think that mere birds could bring about madness?" he replied in a taunting fashion.  "What an idea.  How clever an idea that would be.  To make mere crows capable of spreading angst.  Not an idea worthy of an elfin king who relies upon others for his genius, now would it be?"
	"I never said that you were not clever, Eberon," Sage said while snubbing his nose at the creatures who began to bind his wrists.  "Just mad."
Eberon's face resembled a heating thermometer, and was surely going to burst.  "If only I could allow the birds to enter the castle...  Then you would truly know what madness is."  His face regained it's olive color quickly when it became obvious to him that he was the one in control of the circumstances, despite Sage's upper hand in the conversation.  "It is no matter.  You will not feel so sharp whiling away your time in a dank dungeon."

* * *

A group of Beasts were blockading the door, doing their best to keep the elvin guards from breaking into the grand conference chamber.  Through the ruckus, the leaders of the seven kingdoms were trying their best to have a discussion.  The seven kingdoms, minus one.
	"That bastard!" Benedick shouted while raking a set of razor-sharp claws against the mahogany table, leaving a vicious mark.  "I'd swear that all elves were up to no good, were it not for Sage!"
	Leenia, the fairie queen touched the feline's hand gently and replied, "Now, now Benedick, a wicked ruler does not make for a wicked populace."
	"Little men strong!" one beast shouted from his barricade position.
	Delina hopped onto the table.  "Look, we have to come up with a plan, and very quickly.  Has anyone tried to make communications outside of the castle?"
	Everyone shook their head, "no." 
	"Well I have," Delina answered, shaking the communications amulet that hung around her neck, "and all communication has been blocked.  There is no way for us to summon our armies."
	All heads dropped as if hope for resolving the madness had been lost.

* * *

	Jareth bent over as much as his restraints would allow to whisper into Sage's ear.  "We cannot allow them to take us to the dungeons."
	Sage gave him a sideways grin.  "Who said that we were?"
	The elf tried not to use his magic on a regular basis.  His great respect for the land and the powers it provided caused him to take careful stock of how he used those powers.  Sarah knew that Sage had knowledge of magic and its use, for he taught her the ways of the sorceress, including the respect she should possess for the magic she used.  Jareth also was aware of Sage's knowledge, as was everyone else in the palace.  This often led to the idea that Sage was truly powerless, except in the strength of his cunning.  As his cunning could not help him to escape his current predicament, it was time to put the old spells to use.  The good thing is that Eberon would not expect it, for, after all of the years he had known the lad, the boy still thought he was a helpless old codger with a quick tongue.  The bad thing was that the mock king would now know of his powers, and try to protect himself against them.  So, cunning as Sage was, he had a way to get around this little problem.
	He casted, first, a ventriloquism spell.  
	Suddenly, involuntarily, Jareth muttered the incomprehensible words of an elfin spell.  He seemed shocked, but did not resist.  He recognized the spell that came from his mouth by the promptings of Sage.  Though he could understand the words, he did not need to - for he could tell exactly what the elf was up to by watching the results.
	A little creature with two buoyant legs hopped out of nothingness to stand before Jareth.  He found the fellow charming with his drooping eyes and tendril-like mustache.  It was like a puppy waiting to do a trick.
	"Capture them," he commanded, motioning toward the guards and the elfin king with his head.
	The little guy hopped up and down gleefully at his new task, and was suddenly only a blur as he bounced his almost spherical body around the room in a highly calculated ricochet.  Elastic goo trailed behind him and smacked, whopped, and generally subdued the guards holding Jareth and Sage before wrapping around the lot of them, leaving them dangling one by one from springy ropes that stuck to the ceiling.  Upon completion of his work, the creature stopped before Jareth, and slapped his rubbery tongue around his face in a fashion that mimicked panting.  Jareth bent over and pat him on his head.  
	"Good boy.  What a fine job!"
	Eberon glowed red behind strings of goo.  Only half of his face was visible, but he was clearly unhappy.  "How in the Underground did you do that?  Kaleb told me that you were--"
	He stopped, but not fast enough.  Sage stepped in front of him and toyed with a string of rubber hanging next to his face.  It snapped and hit Eberon across his half-visible, slender, sneaky nose.  "Aha, so King Kaleb is this cause of all of our stress, after all?  Now, I knew you couldn't pull all of this off yourself."
	"Curse you, Sage!  I'd curse your family, too, but you don't have much of one, anymore, now do you?"
	A darkness mostly unfamiliar to Sage took over his face.  "I would not mention such things, Eberon, for they will only serve to heat me to a pitch, something you are not in a position to do right now."
	He lowered his eyes for a moment, and then turned to Jareth, who in turn looked down to the little creature and said, "Well, my friend, your work is done, you can go back to wherever you came from, now."
	The fellow wiggled his two legs around in a motion that made him look as if he were shaking his head, and he let out a couple of argumentative squeaks.
	"He's a Windle Sprite, Jareth.  Comes directly from the fairy lands, just below the Underground.  It's not everyday that someone is lucky enough to befriend one of these fellows."
	"So, you are telling me that I can keep him?" Jareth asked with a raising of his brow.
	"Indeed, I am saying that you should.  As you can see, these little fellows come in handy."
	The sprite hopped into Jareth's arms, weighing no more than a pound or two.  He licked Jareth across the face, leaving behind a sticky goo that quickly hardened.  Jareth pulled it off easily and turned to Sage.  "Awe, thanks Dad."
	They peered around the doorway, and did not find anyone within the immediate distance, so they snuck out, peering around corners and making their way stealthily to the conference room.  They left behind a furious elf, wiggling with all of his might to escape, but only succeeding in spinning himself about, unwinding, and finally slowing down, googly-eyed from dizziness.
 
	"That was very clever of you," Jareth whispered as they snuck past one panicked castle dweller after another.
	"What, you mean my use of the ventriloquism spell?  Yes, it did, in a sense, kill two birds with one stone.  Not only are they still unaware of my powers, but they think that you still are able to cast spells.  I am sure it will throw all of their perceptions in a tizzy."
	"Yes, maybe they will think we have more of an advantage than we actually do."  The little windle hopped behind them quietly, dutifully keeping an eye out for enemies.  "They will pay more attention to me, and not as much on you.  Maybe you can infiltrate their defenses somehow."
	Sage pulled a bubble-like monacle from his vest and peered around the corner.  "Yes, all of these things we can consider in a future plan."  He looked back over his shoulder at the sprite.  "What are you going to name him?"
	"Do you think that is really something I should be considering at this moment?"  Jareth almost chuckled at Sage's ability to mix dire business with trifling matters.  It was not annoying at all, but served to lighten his heavy mood.
	"Certainly.  It is an important thing to consider, as you must have a name by which to prompt him into battle."
	"Very logical."  Jareth pondered it a moment.  "Well, I think it would be fitting to call him Chaos, considering the circumstances under which you called him, and the nature of his abilities."
	"Chaos it is, then."  Sage pat Chaos on the head before peering around the edge again.  Through the monacle, he saw a close-up view of the distant conference room where a multitude of very angry elves were congregating in an effort to break in.
	Turning back to Jareth, Sage said, "I think we have found another use for our new friend."  He looked down to Jareth's new faithful companion and said, "Do you have any new tricks up your sleeve, fella?"  Though very much like a small dog, Chaos was obviously intelligent.  The little windle peered around the corner to consider the situation.  Twice, the group of elves backed far away from the door to ram it.  They were increasingly successful in loosening the hinges with each heave.  On the third go, little Chaos zoomed from his position, ran in circles around the retreating elves five times (it took him less than two seconds to do this), and ran back to his masters.  The elves did not have a chance to move; their feet were successfully encased in a goo that had already hardened into a rubber substance.  Jareth took stock of the situation, and noted that the little guy had even gone to the extra effort (magically) of wrapping up the elves holding weapons in such a way that they could not move.
	"Very thorough!" Sage shouted gleefully, going to no extra effort to keep his voice down as he walked boldly from his hiding place.  Jareth and Chaos were in his wake.  "I should say that we have clearance to enter?"
	Sage stepped up to the cleared door and heard Dalina announce that there was no ways to summon the armies.
 
	"We will have to get outside somehow," she continued.
	Everyone looked toward the door, confused by the fact that there was suddenly no more pounding, only the murmurs of elves outside.
	Sage pulled out a key from his vest, turned it in the lock, and entered like an epiphany.  
	"No, you don't want to go outside, my friends!  You are sure to go mad out there!"  He held the key aloft to show how he entered, then put the key and monacle away in his vest.
	Everyone breathed a sigh of relief to realize that their new guest was more than a welcome one.
	Benedick hollered above the sudden din.  "You old coot!  Always got a trick in that vest of yours, eh?  Got one that can get us out of here?"
	Jareth entered and closed the door behind him.  When he turned around, he discovered that everyone had become silent and was staring open-jawed at him.  Everyone except for the fairy queen, who was regal no matter the circumstances.
	Sage left response up to the former Goblin King.  For the umpteenth time that day, Jareth felt extremely awkward for being who he was.  To calm their nerves, he did something very uncharacteristic.
	He raised his hands and wiggled his fingers in a dainty wave.  "Hi there."
	Everyone gasped.  The king of the fieries lost his head.  Literally.  It bounced to the front of the room, fluttered its ears and hovered in front of his face a moment.  "It's him alright!"   His body came back to his head, and he raised a hand to tug at Jareth's ears, which prompted a meager swat from him.  
	"Stop that!  It hurts."
	"Not gonna cast some boogey woogie spell on me, man?"  The fiery taunted as he pulled Jareth's goatee.
	"No, I'm not, but would you mind boogie woogying your way elsewhere?"
	The fiery gave up and walked back to his seat.  "I don't believe it, man.  Like, is he for real?"
	Sage started to explain it, but Jareth interposed.  "No, no, let me do it."  While Sage locked the door again, Jareth began to explain the circumstances.  "Yes, it is I, Jareth, the former Goblin King.  Thanks to a spell the elves - your former allies - cast on me four years ago, I was cleansed of my evil ways.  I left the kingdom for Sarah to rule, as I was never fit to rule in the first place.  Thanks to Sage, I became aware of the dangers of the crows and of the man who caused their existence -- King Kaleb, my shadow.  I agreed to help Sage to destroy him, and here I am, a little too late.  Yes, my intentions are good, as Sage will vouch for me.  No, I am not the same man who ruled four years ago.  Most importantly, Sarah, Queen of Sunset City, has been kidnapped by Kaleb and must be rescued before we can launch a successful battle against Kaleb."
	"Oh my!" Delina exclaimed.  "What will we do without her counsel?"
	Benedick stood up forcefully.  "More important than that... what will he do with her?"
	"My sentiments exactly," Jareth replied.
	The gauzy haze that surrounded Leenia pulsated as she spoke.  "Sage... You said earlier that we would go mad if we went outside.  Are the crows there?"
	"Yes."  The elf's stance became firm, as a military leader preparing for battle, and his voice hard-edged, like a finely crafted elfin sword.  Approaching the table, he brought forth an image of the goings-on inside.  "We learned from Eberon that the crows can only affect those that they come in contact with.  I do believe that he will refrain from sending the crows into the castle, or any castle for that matter, for he, or one of his minions, will end up occupying the castle at some point, as he is here, and must therefore be protected from their magic.  I'm certain that he and Kaleb have already seen to it that the other kingdoms are similarly occupied by these magical crows.  As communications are cut off from within the castle, and it is likely that all of your armies have turned mad, I do not see the purpose in going outside to make contact with them.
	"Surely there are some who were wise enough to stay indoors and are unaffected by the birds?" Delina offered.
	"That is true.  But they would be too few in number to pose a battle against Kaleb.  And how would we get to them?"
	Stroking his whiskers, Benedick responded, "Sage and I are quite familiar with battle, be it a battle of wills, brawn, or wit.  I do believe that we must approach this as a battle of wills and wit, as we are completely devoid of brawn.  We should not attempt battle against Kaleb, because we will only succeed in killing the elves, who are obviously out of their gourds.  What we have to do is destroy the crows, or to disable the spell.  But how do you uncast a spell on thousands of birds?  And, more than that, how do we get to them without being affected."
	Sage lit up.  "Aha!  I have an idea!  But, the key is for each of you to be able to get in touch with the so-called 'survivors' of your kingdoms and to take a journey upon each of yourselves.  I can't think of any spells I could cast to keep the crows away."
	The beast king spoke resolutely.  "Wind... friend!"
	"What a genius of a notion!" Benedick exclaimed.  "If the wind traveled with us, we could blow the buggers away!  Goodbye birdies!"  Benedick mimicked their demise with a swoop of his hand.
	"Which would mean we would have to travel in a cluster," Sage added.  " Then split off at our respective kingdoms."  He paced back and forth pondering it a bit more.  "And, I have another plan...  One that will allow us to recapture Sarah.  But I will need to speak to Leah.  She can help, assuming that she has not gone mad with the others."
	"How in blazes are we going to get out of here without attracting attention?" Benedick asked. 
	Suddenly, a wall moved on the east side of the room, sending the shocked entourage of Benedick running to the other side.  Once fully revolved, Sir Didymus, Hoggle, Leah, and Ambrosius could be seen.  "I am here to rescue you good kings and queens of the Underground.  Sir Didymus at your service."  The fox bowed gracefully, removing his hat in the proper decorum. 
	"What an able fellow," Jareth commented quietly. 
	Sage was all smiles.  "Sir Didymus, how kind of you!  Even a secret passage that I was unaware of, dear fellow!  You have always proven to be the pride of your queen!"
	"Thank you, dear sir.  I await your orders."
	"So, Sage, are you going to tell us the central theme of your plan," Benedick said, "or shall we wait until another horde of elves come banging at out door?"    
	"Yes, I most certainly will," Sage replied.  "The central theme of my plan is...
	"Corn."





CHAPTER XVIII: Mind Games 


There was a time in New York where Sarah realized something about herself.  It was one of those epiphanies that come on you slow and hard, and have a funny way of changing your life, making you cry, or making you run away from yourself.  It had not been long since she started the road to her career; there was a seduction to the city that she could not ignore.  It called her into some dark places, some places filled with flashing lights and sweaty bodies, places unfamiliar to her small hometown.  It was a world where a true actress found her spotlight, where seduction was the name of the game, and you had to know how to flaunt it.
	Many an "acting opportunity" had not panned out; in truth, she had made many a wrong turn in her search, finding lots of perverse men waiting behind yet another door, telling her that she would have to remove her clothing to be successful.  Some of them had beer bellies and smoked cheap cigarettes; still others wore their hair slicked back, polyester shirts sparkling under the dim lights.  They all made her sick to her stomache, but she kept looking anyways, looking always, it seemed, in the wrong places.  She never told her parents about these incidents.
	It was one Saturday evening after she had gotten off work, leaving yet another long shift at the diner where she waited tables, that she went to pursue another of these opportunities.  She took public transit, changing from bus to bus, until she found her destination.  When she got out, she stood before quite a regal apartment building, white stucco climbing the sky, with accents of gold trim.  It looked promising.  She walked up three flights of stairs with a newfound hope.  Maybe this one would be different.
	When the door opened, a beautiful man opened the door.  He looked positively evil, but left Sarah entranced.  He asked her in, his black hair fluttering about his face like feathers whenever the fan blew in his direction.  As he escorted her into the room, he took her jacket and apologized for the heat...  The Laundromat was a floor above, and the heat was filtering through; unfortunately, his air conditioner had picked the worst time to break, leaving him and his guests to suffer.  She smiled and made a witty comment, feeling quite sexual under his gaze, and eerily powerful in that sexuality.
	What was it that made him so beautiful and evil at the same time?  She wasn't quite sure.  She had at that time almost convinced herself that the whole episode with Jareth had been some sort of figment of her youthful imagination at that time.  But, as far as she could see back, to past relationships, to her fascination with fictional characters, and especially her fascination with Jareth, she knew she was obsessed with dark men.  There was an air of adventure in the infatuation, a worldliness that implied to her that there could be a great deal she could learn about herself and the world at their hands.  The suffering, though she knew it was a factor, rarely came into the equation.
	Why would a reputable talent scout invite potentials into his home?  It was a fact she ignored time and again, and this time, a fact that she forced out of her mind entirely.  The detail was a trifling one, a detail that would cost her an adventure, she was sure.
	He chatted her up for sometime, didn't get straight to business.  She was utterly charmed.  Spiced cider, candles (she noticed after some time), and even some lazy music.  Surely it wasn't a ploy, she assured herself.  Everything was black, much black satin, smooth, black leather sofas.  Oriental tapestries hung from the wall, as well as a silver, Japanese fan that filled the wall.  It all made Sarah want to don the white facial makeup  of a Kabuki dancer, to finesse him with a rice paper fan and the subtle, calculated motions of a Geisha.
	These feelings, of course, were not unfamiliar to her.  She had a vivid imagination, and had always imagined such a man that would make her feel this way.  Someone like Jareth, yet unlike him in one crucial aspect... Someone who was real and attainable, and put to danger only those things which she possessed and could risk.
	He didn't lead to the point directly.  Smoothly her relayed to her the knowledge of his profession.  A high class clientele with a taste for the sensual, is that how he put it?  But he said it so sweetly.  She removed her shirt for the first time, despite the nagging voice.  She bared her breasts in the hope that this would be her big break.  Kal - that was his name - was too nice a man to hurt her.  Oh, but wasn't he evil a moment ago?  That didn't matter.
	And he photographed her, considering her carefully, respectful in his regard for her.  He didn't say anything.  And, after a few minutes of regarding her nude form, he did the most evil thing possible.
	"I'm sorry, dear Sarah.  You are a lovely woman, but you are not quite what we are looking for.  You are, well, frankly, you are not sensual enough."
	She was shocked.  What did that mean, she wondered?  Did she look too young?  Was she not lovely enough?  Her breasts too small, or her expression too nieve?  He looked at her in a funny way, sort of knowingly, but of what he knew, she wasn't sure.  He helped her don her shirt again, talked to her a few more moments, asked if she would be ok, and let her out.  He knew what he had done, but she was not sure for many years to come.  He had baited her, hook line and sinker.
	He wasn't just trying to find girls who would strip for the camera.  This was a man with a personal mission, one that was much like the job of a sculptor, to make works of art for his own personal enjoyment.  Sarah went home and cried that day.  He knew she did.  She showered for a full day, had dinner, then took another bath.  Something had made her feel dirty; she looked in the mirror, suddenly uncomfortable with the body she had so long never given a second thought to.  For days after that she tried to block the whole thing out of her mind; people noticed, though, when she started wearing a t-shirt and jeans all the time, or when she refused to go to parties.  But that phase didn't last long.
	One Friday, Sarah had been home the entire day, staring in the mirror and talking to herself, like she used to do in high school, when make believe had been so much easier to engage in.  "It's going to be different from now on," she said to her mirror image in a regal tone.  "From now on I will be what men want to see.  I can be sensual."
	How did he know she would be at this particular party?  Maybe he fully understood in great detail the timeline that usually ensued after his first act, and that party invitation...  He could have dropped it anywhere.  Kal was there.  He wasn't too far in the back of the coffee shop, sitting with a glass of some alcoholic beverage, his eyes on her knowingly, slanted mischieviously, the line of sight a sort if parabolic journey that fell on her like a bombshell from a great height.
	The veritable Cinderella of the ball, she entered; yet something was wrong, something horribly askew in the realization of this ballroom dream.  Unlike the ballroom she had entered years ago in Jareth's dream domain, she was no longer entering as the innocent woman, wearing white, the youthful and nieve beauty in a room of harlots.  Many of the other women her age were semi-conservatively dressed at this party; Sarah was the closest to the harlot out of all of them.  Boy oh boy, did she look good.  Every man's gaze fell on her at some point or another. But Kal was looking at her the entire time.  He took in the long legs that protruded from the short skirt, carefully considered her soft ankles, made love to her every body part with his eyes.  She pretended not to notice.  Her acting skills were quite amazing; instead of following her initial urge to pull her arms tight around her chest to hide the low neckline, she let them down at her side, and swished to the other side of the room, taking on a catlike gaze that made her seem in control.  She wasn't, but she had fooled even herself into thinking that she was.
	She chatted people up, held the regard of the men with a seductiveness that only Michelle Pfeifer could equal.  She was the center of attention, even if she was only followed by a few people at a time.  And, because of this, she expected him to finally come and speak with her, to make a comment on her change.  Instead, she looked across the room to find him still staring at her, a cigarette swirling smoke above his head.  He met her gaze, which he held for sometime, carefully finishing the cigarette, putting it out, then walking out.  She wanted to follow him, but that would be giving him exactly what he wanted.  She held back and stayed inside, drinking a little more than her usual, and getting a bit tipsy.
	Then something quite unexpected happened.  She met Grayson, a tall, handsome fellow with long blonde hair and a funny little British accent.  He danced with her, and seemed to regard her for herself, to see past the appearances that this scared little girl had put on.  When they talked, she felt that she was wearing the white cotton dress of a maiden, not the trappings of a harlot.  As if he saw deep inside of her, saw that she had only taken the garb of a worldly woman to make sure that no one trifled with her.  She felt like herself around him, and soon forgot about Kal.
	They sat and talked for an hour.  Sometimes he would look off into the distance, as if he were observing the actions of some fairy companion across the room, flipping his hair over his shoulder with the turn of his head.  Then he would laugh at some shenanigan of his invisible friends, and turn to face her again, an angelic smile playing on his lips.  He was most charming at these moments, and made Sarah's stomach fall low inside of her, making her certain that she must be in love.  She would ask him what he was laughing about, and he would always tell her, "It's nothing."
	Soon enough, she had lost her catlike walk and gaze, her lipstick licked off completely in her nervousness over the presence of this lovely man.  She finally felt like things were back to normal, like she would go home and undress comfortably again, wake in the morning with a warm and fuzzy feeling, call Grayson and have coffee somewhere in the city.  Maybe they would go to a movie, and he would kiss her goodnight on her doorstep.  It could be the beginning of a sweet romance.
	She had a half hour at least before she had to go home.  At one lull point in conversation, Grayson turned back to her smiling after some musing, grabbed her hand, and walked her outdoors in order to get away from the noise.
	It was a little dark inside, but it still took Sarah's eyes a few minutes to adjust.  She could faintly hear people scattered all about outside, some making drunken shouts about something or other, others chatting in twos in dark corners.  To her immediate left she could see cigarette smoke as the blacklight from the doorway reflected off of it.  In the corner her eyes began to perceive the shape of a man dressed in black.
	Oh right, Kal.  He was still here.  She had completely forgotten.  And he was watching her.
	It should have given her the creeps, made her instinctually ask this nice young man to drive her home.  Maybe she should have thought of the police.  What was she going to do if he started stalking her?  But none of these things crossed her mind.  She resumed her catlike walk, eager to prove herself.  She looked up at Grayson with different eyes, almost became another person entirely.  She pretended like Kal was not there.  But in her heart, he was suddenly omnipresent.
	Grayson asked if he could drive her home.  He was a gentleman in his tone, and Sarah knew he had no intentions for her, not yet.  He wanted to get to know her, as a gentleman would.  But she had intentions.  She knew he had fallen in love with her, too, as quickly as she had with him.  But, suddenly, love was the last thing on her mind.
	"I was wondering if we might go back to your place," she said, brushing her fingers across his jacket, looking up at him with slowly closing eyelids.
	He seemed a little surprised, looked off into the distance and laughed a bit at the notion, as if she was playing a little game with him, maybe she was joking, or just wanted to come over and watch movies all night and talk.  Of course, something in him knew differently, wanted differently, but it was unlike him to follow this course of action.
	"Please?" she asked.  He was unaware of the effect the tone of her voice had had on him.  It was a subtle intonation that only a true actress, a true seductress, could have pulled off with success.
	"Okay, sure," he said.  "Back to my place it is.  Though I warn you, there's nothing for us to do there.  I'm a terribly boring guy."
	But she kept him entertained.  She attacked him with such determination, that he had no time to catch his breath.  She had no idea what an amazing lover she could be, the kind of eternal scars she could leave on a man, to make someone so gentle and kind as Grayson have something to hold up as a basis of a comparison, a high place to hopefully one day again achieve.  To make him think he would never find such a sensual and seductive woman again was her goal.  She would be his Venus de Milo, she would be the painting he hung in his heart to gawk at from time to time, to feel his stomach sink and his groin hot with longing.  And she was.  Not only this, she had performed an even greater sin; she had showed him the innocent side of her, as well, and had made him fall in love with her in every way possible.  He was her slave.  It made her feel powerful.
	And in the middle of the night, she was overcome with the crime she had committed.  She dressed quickly and quietly, crying all the way home, walking forty blocks in the dark, mascara dripping down her face.  A cop even stopped by her, thinking she was a prostitute, until he saw her young face and her tears.  It was something unexpected in the city, but he took pity on her and drove her the rest of the way home.  He gave her sagely wisdom, like how unwise it was to be walking on this side of town in that kind of outfit.  How she could get herself hurt. He even found the courage to ask if she had been raped, if that was the reason for her tears.  She shook her head "no" and didn't speak again until she thanked him for the ride when they finally reached her apartment.  
	One thing she knew when she got inside her place was that she had truly achieved her utmost ability to seduce.  But she also knew she had been able all along.  It had been her choice, and her choice only, when it would be appropriate to show this side.  She had chosen the wrong moment.  She had fallen for Kal's trickery in believing that she had something to prove.  Maybe this was a realization he didn't expect the girls in his little games to come upon.  This was the only reason she could come up for his showing up at her job the next day.
	He was sitting at a table, waiting for coffee, waiting for her.  He smiled at her knowingly, asked her how she liked the party.  "Just fine," she told him, and poured the coffee so violently into his cup that it sloshed out and onto his pants.  She had to pretend like she cared, and cleaned it up with the napkin, her bitter face and sweet voice at complete odds with each other.  She wanted to hit him, or pour the coffee right onto his crotch.  He obviously had a woody over the whole circumstance.  Maybe she could give him something to really get hot about.
	"You're looking awfully sexy today," he said while taking a drag on his cig.  
	"Oh, you would know all about that, wouldn't you?" she said hatefully.  
	"You know, I came to let you know that I wanted to apologize for that time at my place, when I told you that you weren't good enough.  I just realized how young and innocent you were, and I didn't want you to lose that.  You were definitely a sensual woman, but I just didn't want you to get hurt.  You know, this business can hurt a good girl like you.  But last night... Well, I thought maybe you were ready, after all.  You could be very successful."  He said his last words carefully, oh so seductive in the pronunciation of each word.  "You looked the part, last night."
	And it was every day for three weeks that he engaged in such visits as these.  Each time she ignored him, pretended like he hadn't spoken, and did not make any reply, other than to ask for his order.  He always left a big tip, or a businesscard; if it wasn't his businesscard, it was the card of one of his seedy friends.  He'd wink at her when he left, reminding her in that wink that she was his personal project, the one that would try to get away, but couldn't.  It took Sarah three weeks to realize what was going on.
	This is really what you get when you engage in any type affair with an evil man.  Evil, though seductive, is a bad thing for a very good reason.  It makes you worldly beyond your years, and highly unhappy.  Instead of seeking the refuge of home and family, like she felt like doing, she ran away from them, to avoid their scrutinizing gazes.  She gave up acting, and went into advertising.  She moved up fairly quickly in the business, a workaholic to avoid her pain, and missing the joy of innocence that had at one time made her excited about life and her career.  Kal had inflicted major damage upon her existence.
	As she had on Grayson's.  She saw him walking down the street one day with a woman who was presumably his wife, and a little baby in the stroller she pushed.  As they passed, his eyes turned toward her.  He flipped his hair over his shoulder, but he was not smiling at what he saw, like he would do before.  Years of pain reflected in his eyes, as he had obviously come to yearn darker things because of her.  She had been able to give up the desire for an insatiable lust because of that night.  She had only spurned that desire within him.  She tried not to meet his gaze, pretended like she didn't know him.  He turned back to his family, and smiled wanly at some words from his wife.  He was happy, despite his longing.  This gave Sarah some measure of peace.
	She knew what it was that he had wanted with her, and what she had often sought herself - a perfect paradox of a human being, who could at once be innocent and dark, to make love like an animal, but to love like a child.  Funny though it was, they had found that in each other.  A conglomeration of dark and light, a perfect balance that found an honest expression in the other person.  But she had ruined it with her actions, by engaging him as she had, all because Kal was watching.  Grayson was probably happy in his marriage, but did not have what he truly desired.  She was not happy in her job, but it made her forget she was a woman, and was sexually frustrated.

* * *

And this is what she thought about when she looked at Kaleb.  She knew how the Underground and Aboveground balance worked... Sometimes things from one world would reflect in the other, like a distorted image.  Perhaps Kal and Kaleb were the same.  Maybe Jareth and Grayson were also mirror images.  It was an opportunity to make a decision over again, in a way.  She knew what kind of man Kaleb was, now.  He wasn't smoking a cigarette, but he was swishing that wine around in his mouth, cocky and in control of his aura.  Even after all this time, after all she had learned, Sarah found a part of herself slipping into the old fascination, her stomach falling in the same old thoughts.  Unlike before, she did her best to suppress it, to let her knowledge and wisdom prevail.
	She knew what he was up to, he didn't need to explain.  Crows perched on the various small windows in the throne room, making it quite obvious to her that he was the one who had started the issue with the crows.  For all she knew, everyone in her kingdom was in a fit of hatred, tearing at each other, trying to kill each other for no good reason.  Maybe she'd get back and they'd be dead, all of them.  She had great faith in their ability to rule themselves, to find a course of action; most of all, she had faith in Sage's wisdom, and his ability to find a way out.  
	"You know, it caught them all by surprise," he said, finally turning around to speak to her.  "My minions have sent word back that all of your people are fighting.  Especially interesting to you might be the fact that Sage unwittingly led all of the kings and queens of the other nations outside to engage in battle.  They are all dead, now, some at the hands of their own people.  I hear that Sage was quite close to you."
	Sarah knew he was lying, of course.  She wasn't a fool.  If Leah, who was there as well, had died, Sarah would know.  According to myth, if a person's shadow dies, they die as well.  Sometimes that is the reason for inexplicable deaths on earth.  But she didn't answer him with surprise, because she had no reason to play his game.
	"Oh, really?" she said, and turned her face away from him.  She didn't remember how she had gotten there, only remembered waking up sitting in this plush throne, looking out into the small chamber, where black silks draped from the ceilings, and hand-woven tapestries adorned the walls.  She rubbed her bare foot against the rug, barely amused by the whole circumstance.  She remembered those years ago that Jareth had put her under similar circumstances, trapping her against her will.  She had been frightened of him, and too afraid to be obstinate, in avoidance of his wrath.  Now she was equally powerful, and only remained long enough to be amused, to gather information.  She tried hard to be focused on the situation, to not think about what was going on with Jareth, or where they had been heading before Kaleb pulled his stunt.  But then again, she should be somewhat wary; he had a majority of the amethyst in his possession, and could be more powerful than she supposed.  He did, after all, have the power necessary to create the crows, and to cast the spell that made them harbingers of doom.
	He tapped a bit of ash off the end of some burning incense, then continued, "Well, if that gets no response...  You are aware that I am in possession of the remaining piece of the amethyst..."  he looked up knowingly, "aren't you?"
	She raised a brow at this.  "Hmm.  And how did you do this?"  She knew she had it so well hidden that it was unlikely he had found it.  He was probably baiting her for its location.
	"You think that you have hidden it too well for me to find... But I have spent the past four years watching you closely, lovely Sarah, and I am in possession of all the secrets of your boudoir.  In the wall, two bricks back, underneath the owl painting on the east side.  And that blue nightgown you wear on the weekends is particularly striking.  I like it best when you are changing into it."
	She did not even notice the nightgown comment, she was so busy mulling over the implications of him having possession of the amethyst.  He was now the most powerful man in the Underground.  He could do whatever he liked, with her, with anyone.  It was an extreme insult to her abilities as a ruler to have lost control so completely, for her people, and the people of the entire Underground, to be at such a risk due to her inability to protect such an item.  But she mustn't be too harsh on herself. Not only would it not do any good, but she had no idea she was dealing with such a resourceful and powerful individual.  Indeed, she had been unaware of his existence until today.  Was it the same day?  She wasn't sure how long she had been out of it.
	Suddenly he appeared to her immediate left, his face only a centimeter away from her own.  He took in her scent with much display.  "Mmm, how long I have wanted to be able to smell you.  You smell like...  Crysanthemums.  My my, how you have filled your role as a woman in the past four years, Sarah.  You have no idea what your presence can do to a man."
	"I can't begin to tell you what the lack of your presence would do for me."  
	He chuckled at her response, grabbed her by the wrists, and started swinging her about the room in dance, as if she were a rag doll.  She tried to resist, but it didn't matter much anyway, as they were floating half a foot above the ground, and her feet were without power.  "Ah, it is no matter, we sometimes do not realize how badly we want something until our defenses are stripped completely down."
	"I want none of this, and you know so.  Please don't play your little mind games with me, I tire easily of them these days."  She looked him in the eye.  "I know who you are.  Jareth told me.  You and I met long ago."  She wasn't yet sure that she believed Jareth's story, but, if it was true, perhaps she could get some more out of him by surprising him with her own knowledge.  "I'm not the same girl.  I don't play along with your games as I once did."
	"Ah, but Sarah, I know you are not the same woman.  I would not want that nieve little child.  But to have the impulses of a child again... That is what you would want.  A mature woman inside the spirit of a child?"  He pursed his lips sensually.  "Hmm, there are different games for you and I to play, my dear.  And I am not the same, either.  Being insanely powerful does a little something for the little streaks of violence, does it not?  It has helped my sense of humor tremendously."
	Sarah rolled her eyes.  "What do you want from me, then?"
	He stopped the dance, holding her at arms length, backing away a great distance.  His seductive smile only increased in his movement.  "I can have whatever I want, now.  But I shant tell you what I want from you.  You already know that."
	"Please spell it out for me, then, I am dense."
	He was behind her now, his whisper of a voice startling her.  "I want to break you.  Mmm, and you can be broken.  Don't think otherwise."  Suddenly he bounded across the room to lunge into his throne.  "Or do think otherwise.  It will certainly make you a much more interesting playmate."
	That was when Sarah got pissed.  She mustered all of the magic she could handle, and threw an energy burst straight at him.  A smoldering pile of ash was all that remained when she finished.
	"That was way too easy," she mused, unconvinced.





CHAPTER XIX: Horribly British 


We have an advantage that they are unaware of," Sage mused, smiling.
	"Dear me, and I thought our luck had begun to fail us," Jareth answered.
	Sage turned to Leah, who seemed mildly uncomfortable being so close to Jareth.  It seemed she would punch him in the face at any moment. "How did you get here, Leah? I mean, to the Underground?"
	"I traveled through the mirrors.  Are you saying we can use the mirrors to get where we need to go? To get the rulers to their respective kingdoms?"
	"I'm afraid not.  You see, we must travel in a group to fight the crows together.  We need the Beast King's power over the winds for our journey."  He brushed some dust off of his smart vest.  "But there is nothing preventing one from making a journey Aboveground."
	"What good would that do us?" Leah asked, seeming to forget her proximity to the former Goblin King.  Jareth seemed relieved by her change in demeanor.  She noticed his relief and scowled at him.
	He looked away and added to her question, "Yes, I fail to understand the implications, as well."
	"Oh, quit being so British," Leah snapped with a sneer.
	"You are truly nothing like Sarah," Jareth retorted, somewhat amazed by her attitude.
	"I just speak my mind, and don't get taken in by your charade."
	"No, you're quick to anger and make judgments about others. Or, if you prefer that I be less British, you're acting like a bitch."
	Sage stepped between them.  "Come now, this is not the time for bickering!  You can have at each other later."
	"Not worth the effort," Leah bit.
	"Can I finish?" Sage asked.
	"Yes," Jareth and Leah chimed together.  They hated each other for their syncopation.
	"As I was saying," Sage continued, "there is someone Aboveground who can  help us.  A lad with a tremendous, yet unrealized, power."
	"Toby," Leah said.  Jareth began to mouth the name, but thought better of it.
	"Yes," Sage replied, keeping his left eye on them, and his right eye on the scheming royalty.  "The mirrors only work one way.  You can go through an enchanted mirror and come out of any mirror or reflecting surface of your choosing, but you can only use an enchanted mirror to return.  Once you found Toby, you could get him to take you to Leah's mirror, which you could use to locate Kaleb.  And, with your spells, Toby could use his magic to help you destroy Kaleb."
	"Wait a minute, wait a minute," Leah exclaimed.  "You sound like you're planning on sending Jareth to get Toby alone. Without my help."
	"Well, yes, I am." 
	"And why is that? I think I should be the one to get Toby.  I don't trust him anywhere near my - Sarah's," she fumbled, still a bit uncertain about her relationship with Toby, "- my brother," she finally decided.  "He's tried to kidnap him on two separate occasions.  I need a little more than a day's time in order to be convinced that he's trustworthy."
	"Well, Leah," Sage replied, "You don't have anymore time, and I need you for other matters.  You must play the role of Sarah while she is being held captive by Kaleb.  As long as the people are unaware that she's been captured, we have the advantage of taking back the stability that Kaleb tried to steal from us by kidnapping Sarah."
	"Okay, I'll give you that much, but why does Jareth need Toby to help him cast the spell to kill Kaleb?  Can't Jareth do it himself?"
	"I'm afraid not," Jareth replied.  "All my powers left me long ago."
	"Oh, that's just great.  So how is Toby gonna do it?  He has absolutely no control over his powers."
	"Let me explain," Sage interceded. "Jareth has a bit of power left in him.  Enough to act as the will for a spell.  He can will the spell to work while Toby provides the energy needed to cast the spell.  I was going to help Jareth originally, and we were going to try to convince Sarah to contribute.  It's a big spell, hard for one experienced sorcerer to handle.  But, with Sarah gone, we may not have her help.  Toby could be our backup plan."
	Leah sighed.  "I guess I have no choice.  Okay, let Jareth go to get him."  She leaned into Jareth and prodded his nose with her finger.  "Look you.  I'd better not regret this.  You're right, I am a bitch, but this dog has a bite worse than her bark.  I've taken down three corporations for environmental hazards, and I'll take you down too."  She stepped down.  "And what's with the goatee?"
	Jareth tugged on his facial hair and replied in a sulky voice, "I like it."
	"Hmm.  Well, I'm going to change into my Sarah costume.  You guys do whatever you're gonna do."  Just as she walked off, Sir Didymus approached.
	"Sirs, I couldn't help but hear your plan.  I do not think it wise to send Sir Jareth to find the lad on his own.  Can I not be of service? I would be honored to accompany him Aboveground."  With that, he bowed and rolled his hat forward gracefully.
	"I don't think that would be wise, Didymus," Sage replied.  "Aboveground is very different from Underground.  You would not fit in."
	"But Sir, I am keen and crafty.  Surely they would not suspect that I was a spy?"
	"That is not the problem," Jareth explained.  "Talking dogs are not common on this world."
	Sage gave Jareth a sidelong glance, surely due to the fact that he had already predicted the knight's reaction to Jareth's unthinking statement.
	"What dost thou say? That I, Sir Didymus, am a mere dog?"  The word rolled of his tongue with more than slight disgust.  "I am a man, as equal as you or Sage."
	"I didn't mean to offend," Jareth countered quickly, "but, only to say, that most furry men such as yourself are not known to speak.  I do not question your equality, dear knight, but wish to overstep any potential problems."
	"What a strange place in which some men do not speak.  I have never known such a thing.  All things speak, except for lichen."  Sir Didymus scratched his whiskers thoughtfully.  "What kind of place is this?"
	"Yes, I meant to ask the same.  What kind of place am I in store for? Is this the city where Sarah lived?" 
	Leah returned quickly, looking much like Sarah.  "What do you think?  The fairy queen helped me by conjuring up a wig."
	"Spitting image," Jareth replied under his breath.
	"Did you say something about spitting on me, Jareth?"
	"No, not at all.  Just remarking on how similar you look.  Your personality is something quite different, though, I'm afraid."
	"Yes, different in many wonderful ways."  Leah left it at that and turned to Sage.  "What were you talking about?"
	"Leah, do you live in the same city as Toby? Jareth will need the boy to lead him to the mirror."
	"Yeah, I moved there to be close to him.  But, remember, he's run away.  For all I know, my folks found him already...  And that's bad news for you if you're going to try to snatch him away again...  See what my parents think when Mr. Fancy Pants tries to convince them that he needs Toby to join him on an honorable quest to save his sister from his shadow.  He he."  She seemed highly amused by the scene.
	"Why, I would think they would be proud to send their son on such a noble quest!" Sir Didymus chimed.
	Leah didn't respond, knowing Sir Didymus' nature as well as Sage.  "Let's just hope he's still running around the city, on his own." She sighed.  "I never thought I'd wish such a thing."
	Jareth considered the situation a moment.  "Then, I will not have to worry about being in a highly unfamiliar place," he mused.  "I have not been to or seen any of the more highly populated areas Aboveground.  It would be too difficult for me to find my way about."
	"Now, all you have to worry about is Toby's gnome conjuring," Leah answered.
	"Gnome conjuring?" Jareth asked.
	"Apparently Toby conjured up some gnomes who turned a girl's hair blue.  He was sent home.  No one believed his story, they thought he was trying to blame it on his invisible friends, like children usually do."
	"Gnomes are horribly cheeky," Jareth said, shaking his head.
	"Oh, they're cheeky, are they? For someone who doesn't know their way around major cities Aboveground, you're awfully East London," Leah said.
	He ignored her intent.  "I use to have a couple of gnome companions.  They were full of all sorts of adventure and mischief."
	Sage couldn't help but smile, "Gnomes, eh?"
	"I was young once, and a lot more innocent," Jareth retorted.  "They were good fellows.  We sang songs together.  You'd probably find it hard to believe, but we were quite popular."
	"I don't believe this," Leah said, rolling her eyes.  "I thought you were being British before, but nothing is more British than quipping about gnomes when trouble is unhinging the door."
	"No, the word quip is very British.  I am merely avoiding reality for a moment."
	Leah headed toward the secret passageway, "Can we just get a move on?"
	Sage and Jareth followed close behind.  They did not see Didymus walk toward Ambrosius and pat him on the head.  "There's a good boy.  Now, you will have to sit this one out.  Go find a place to hide, and wait for me."  Ambrosius seemed ecstatic by the notion of hiding.  "That's a good boy.  I'm sorry you have to miss out on the adventure."  Ambrosius was far from disappointed, surely heading the least habited and best stocked room of food.
	Soon, Didymus was walking through the secret passageways, his paws click-clacking their way close behind the threesome.
 
 
	Granen was purely lost.  More lost than reality could allow.  Only moments ago, he had been in his chambers, waiting for a lovely lass to return to his boudoir from her undressing efforts, when a raging hoard of elves ran into his room, ready to kill him.  He was going to save the lass from their evil deeds, but she soon was running into the room, baring her beautiful white teeth and him, also ready to kill him.  She didn't seem to mind that she was completely naked, nor did the elves.  The lust for murder outweighed the lust for flesh. 
	It's hard to think fast when a beautiful naked woman has come into the room, Granen mumbled under his breath.  What fine busoms she had, aye.  Damn her busoms to hell, they are what got me into this mess.
	Granen hadn't had much time to make a decision.  Seeing one of Jareth's paintings in the corner, he mumbled the phrase that he always heard Jareth mumble before he magically stepped into his paintings.  He hadn't had much time to look at the painting before he jumped in.  After all, there had been a bloodthirsty nude at his back, accompanied by a pack of sharp-toothed elves.  So he just jumped in.
	He tried to remember which painting it was.  Ah, yes, that little number he did during his blue period, right after he left that lass, Sarah, behind.  I had to hop into the most depressing painting, hadn't I?
	Okay, it was weird and depressing.  Lizards with an unusual number of limbs in an assortment of sizes slithered by.  The trees were moaning, he was sure of it.  Their branchy tendrils waved in the breeze as if they were swaying to a morbid tune.  He hadn't remembered Jareth painting any fairies into the picture, but there they were, half the size of a thumbnail and in a biting frenzy.  It all gave him the willies.
	You can get through this, Granen.  Just remember the high point of your evening.  Just remember the bosoms. 




CHAPTER XX: Naked Souls


Sarah had tried to escape.  There wasn't any way to do so.  It wasn't an invisible barrier.  It wasn't an implanted fear, through magic or otherwise.  The problem was very simple.
	There were no doors.  Or windows.  Not even a damn broom closet. 
	One would think this would make the place dramatically dark.  
	It did.  
	Sarah wasn't usually taken in by such things, but she got chills wherever she stepped.  It was a beautiful place, despite her fears.  But her worry over her deserted kingdom would not let her enjoy the beauty of her cage.
	She wasn't exactly sure why Kaleb had disappeared, thus allowing her to explore the castle.  Perhaps to press further how hopeless her escape was.  But, she wasn't wont to give up hope.
	So she tried to blow up a wall.  It shattered, only to reveal another room.  She stepped through the wreckage to explore further.
	Was it water?  It was dark at first, and hard to discern the source of that rushing noise.  As her eyes adjusted to the increasing dark, she became certain that it was.  It was coming from all around.  She finally began to see that there was an inky liquid flowing down the walls and across the floor, stopping a foot away from her figure and seeping into nothingness.  The strange whirlpool followed her wherever she went.
	Upon closer inspection, the room was almost round, except for a very slight curvature of the floor.  She walked to the other side to get a closer look at the liquid.  A soft light emanated from the center of the room, impromptu, with nothing to create it.  It helped her to see what awaited her in the depths of the strange water.
	It was her reflection.  But, instead of the white gown she had donned earlier that day for the festival, she was greeted by an image of herself in all black, feathers drifting about her cheekbones.
	"Ah, lovely.  You see my predicted future for you, Sarah.  I think you'd look stunning in black."  Kaleb stepped above the liquid, not rippling it one bit.
	Sarah had been disturbed a bit by the image, but not so much as Kaleb would like.  "Don't you have things to destroy?"
	"Now, a good queen would do whatever she could to distract the villain from his evil deeds."
	"Hmm," she replied.  "I know from experience that you have the presence of mind to do several things at once."
	"Still not phased by my attempts at intimidation?" Kaleb answered as he honed in on her.
	"Take a guess."
	"Would it help if I told you I was mistreated as a child?"
	"Please, save your humor."  
	"Don't be so cold.  You know there is a part of you that is drawn towards darkness and suffering."
	"You have always been the one to know what it is that I desire, haven't you?"
	"That's the most reasonable thing you've said.  Of course I have always known your desires."  Kaleb gazed into the shimmering wall and continued, "That wall reflects the darkest secrets of one's soul."
	Sarah turned around to look.  She only saw herself reflected, as the wraith of herself.  "You don't have a reflection.  Does that make you a vampire?" she said without a chuckle.
	"No.  It reveals that I am an empty soul.  Nothing more."
	Sarah was struck by the abrupt honesty with which he was able to reveal his own nature.  She looked again - her image had changed.  Some white was intermingled in the gown of her placid, gloomy self.  On the arm of the dress appeared some white feathers.  She examined her own arm to see that her own dress was turning black, in a growing, feathery pattern.  Her eyes met the smiling eyes of Kaleb.  She was transforming into this other self, more with each moment.  Kaleb acknowledged her fear with a slight grin before leaving the room.
	"What are you doing to me?" she demanded, trailing after him.
	"Me? My dear, you are doing it to yourself. This time, I have nothing to do with it. It's your deepest desires made manifest. Look at you...  A very responsible queen, and you have extended yourself across a whole kingdom.  Your life belongs to thousands.  Just for one moment, Sarah has wanted to know what it would be like to be without having to think of everyone else."  He honed in on her, driving the point home, "To lose yourself in a complete abandon, where you could do anything you like?"
	She was speechless.
	"Don't feel bad, Sarah.  Everyone wants to know what it's like to wear black.  And to give everyone else cause to do so, as well."
	With that, he left.  She didn't know what to think about all of this.  He walked out of the room, left her to her own devices, as if he were confident that she was caged for good.  She could feel the chill of black creeping up her arm, she could hear the wet plop of the inky water against the stones, and it all brought a murderous sensation into her blood.  She turned to face her reflection, and was stopped cold.
	The Sarah in the mirror smiled. I didn't move, Sarah worked to convince herself. That wasn't the real me. She was amazed to see that any expression on her face could be so evil.   
	Without warning, she barged into the wall, smashing the image with her body.  The ink dripped down her body, all over her dress, into her crevices, over her lips and teeth.  The blackness consumed her, suffocating and enlivening all at once.  With a furious roar, Sarah stormed out of the room, mustering all the strength she could to fight the demon that had come charging into her spirit.  The fiery hell raged through her, and she beat it back with cold stones of ice.
	Yet, somehow she knew why her reflection had smiled, knew that a familiar part of her was gone, trapped behind the inky waters, wearing the white of a caged pigeon.
	Sarah was lost in the Labyrinth of herself.

* * *

	"Well, here we are, and none to soon.  That's twice an elf has tried to skin me.  I'm rather fond of my flesh," Jareth joked.
	"If you hurry back, you may get to see us again before we're skewered," Leah said.
	"And I was thinking about stopping for a nice dinner... Toby and I could catch up on old times."
	"Just get a move on," Leah commanded.
	"Yes, well, here I go.  And I didn't dress properly for a trip out of town. Damn."  He pat Sage on the shoulder whilst Leah glowered at him.  "See ya, good chap.  Bring Sarah back to her loving sister and hated ex-arch enemy." He met Leah's arched eye and said, "Yes, here I go, moving along."
	He stepped into the mirror, the metallic surface shimmering in contour about his form.  Only one foot remained in their reality when Leah and Sage were taken by complete surprise as Sir Didymus' furry figure hopped after the former Goblin King, crying "Geronimo!!!"  
	"Oh dear," was all Sage could say.  "Things have just gotten, erm... hairy?"
 
* * *

	Jareth stepped out from nothingness into the somethingness of an alley in New York.  Cars were whizzing by just five yards away, and the bright lights of a big city mesmerized even his jaded eyes.
	"This doesn't look like Whispering Pines," he mused forebodingly.
	Then Sir Didymus popped out of the air and landed on the concrete on his bum.
	"Oh, and this makes things just peachy."  He looked down at the fox with an arched brow.  It wasn't like him to be negatively affected by most negative occurrences, so he bit back the urge to spout a witty British comeback at life's lovely knack of dealing him futile hands.
	And then he thought again.  "You know, and I thought of going back to bed this morning. Dammit if I choose the best time to be motivated."
	Sir Didymus got up and faced Jareth, his jaw working to unhinge his embarrassment for having been so foolhardy.  "Er, I, thought it best that I accompany you, Sir."
	Jareth gave the fox a long look.  "You are known for your wreckless bravado, are you not, Sir Knight?"
	"Yes, I suppose I am.  But I am brave and win every battle!"
	"Do you storm in every time?"
	"Why, most certainly.  I do not wish the enemy to think I am a coward!"
	"Far be it from me to be the type of gent to throw out harassing comments, but I think you have put yourself in the position of looking more like the fool, Sir Didymus.  Do not all noble knights follow the commands of their queen?"
	"Why, naturally, Sir."
	"And who acts as counsel in absence of the queen?"
	"Why, Sir Sage, of course."
	"And did he not tell you to remain Underground while I retrieve the boy?"
	Sir Didymus worked his jaw some more.  "Er, I, yes, I recall..."
	"Let us just get one thing clear, shall we?  You are to consider my words commands in the absence of Sage's counsel.  Do you understand?  This is a strange place that even I am quite unfamiliar with, and I don't need you to stick your wet nose into unwanted trouble."
	Sir Didymus was quiet a moment before finally answering, "Yes Sir.  I am sorry to have disgraced you."
	Jareth turned toward the street beyond the alley.  "Now, Sir Knight, that I have made my wishes clear to you, let us not dwell on the matter.  Let your actions be carefully considered from here on, and you will earn my respect and forgiveness."
	"You are most kind, Sir."
	Jareth headed out into the night, carefully stepping over the legs of the amazed homeless man looking on.  "I have always been known for my generosity," he mused satirically.  
	He worked his way to the end of the wall and looked out into the passing throng of people in amazement.  "My heavens, where the hell are we?"
	"Pardon me, sir, but is this not our desired destination?" Sir Didymus asked.
	"Sssh," Jareth answered.  "You remember what I said about you not being able to speak here?  You must be very quiet if you are to communicate with me.  It will cause a great deal of suspicion if others were to hear you."
	"They will believe me a spy, Sir?" Sir Didymus queried with a confused expression.
	"Yes, that is it."  Jareth looked out from beyond the wall and saw in the distance a giant Coca-Cola sign flickering large over the buildings.  He was mere blocks away from Times Square.  "And, to answer your question, no, we are not at our desired destination, Didymus.  We are in a place called New York.  I recognize it, as this is where Sarah once lived.  You see their strange iconography in the distance?"
	"Ah, yes.  Is that where the Fieries dwell?"
	"No, it is merely a sign.  I believe it is associated with some sort of intoxicating beverage."
	"Very odd to make signs about such things," Sir Didymus commented.  "I wonder if the fairies that make it flicker like that must be working very hard."
	Jareth did not hear his comment, but began to head out into the crowd.  Sir Didymus tagged behind, nearly getting stepped on by a number of people.  Once he finally caught up, he noticed that people were staring at him, and then turning to face Jareth with an odd expression.  Jareth noticed as well.  "Damn, they're noticing," Jareth mumbled.
	Sir Didymus kept quiet.  He could not, however, suppress a yap when a wild-haired lady snatched him up like this morning's Christmas sale.  She held him tightly, pulling off his hat and petting his fur violently.  She turned an accusing stare to the stunned Jareth.  "How dare you!  Making your dog wear clothes like this!"  Sir Didymus was soon going to blurt out a curse related to people who steal the hats of fine knights.  He grabbed feebly for the hat, but she did not notice.  She was too busy chewing Jareth out.  Jareth noticed that Sir Didymus was beginning a vocal growl, and he put his fingers to his lips to indicate that the fox needed to keep silent.
	"How inhumane!" she declared.  "And telling him to shush.  Things like this make dogs violent, you know?  I'm a card-carrying member of the Human Society, and I can't believe you'd put your dog through this, let alone walk him through mid-New York at night without a leash. What're you thinking?"  
	Jareth looked taken aback.  He had no idea how to respond to her outburst.

* * *

Moments later, Jareth was walking down the sidewalk, holding a sans-clothes, very upset Didymus in his arms.  Didymus held his clothes, moaning, "Oh, the indignity!"
	"Sorry, chap, but this is going to be the way it is whilst we're on this world," Jareth replied.  "Next thing you know, they're going to make me join a rock band, and we'll all be suffering indignation."  Didymus began murmuring like a wounded puppy.  "Now, now, Didymus.  You are a very fine knight for making such a sacrifice.  They will surely not suspect that you are a spy, now."
	"Really?" he asked, his ears perking up.  "Yes, I guess that is so.  I will have them fooled.  They will never suspect that I am looking to take their finest sorcerer away from them."
	"Who would that be?" Jareth asked.
	"Sir Toby, of course," Didymus replied in a matter-of-fact whisper.
	"Oh, right."  Jareth had no intention of wounding his sense of grandeur.  "Well, I hope we find the lad soon.  He should be somewhere around here.  Too bad I don't have my magic to tell me where he is.
	Sir Didymus pointed to the window of a shop.  "Is not that a place of magic?" he whispered.
	Jareth turned to look.  It was indeed a magic shop, and just beyond the velvet curtains in the window he could see a young boy and a beautiful woman sitting across from each other, deep in conversation.  "Well, well.  This little leopard hasn't changed his spots."  He ruffled Didymus' fur.  "You may prove to be of assistance after all, chap."
	"Oh, please.  Nudity is hard enough, but must you pet me like a mere dog?" the knight moaned. 
	"Oh, right.  I'm quite sorry.  Let's go in and meet the boy, shall we?"





CHAPTER XXI: The Tables Turn 


Getting the various kings and queens of the Underground to agree to the dangerous act of leaving the castle had proven fairly easy.  Coming up with a plan for escaping the effects of the demonic crows had come with little effort.  In the style of true warriors at heart had they all gathered about their exit, awaiting the call of the Beast King in his melancholy love song to the wind.  But there were unexpected problems.
	"Damn, it's cold," Benedick whined in half a cat's meow.  He was certainly not purring.
	"Didn't think about it, but that is a trait that comes with wind, eh?" Sage said, punching the cat in the arm as if they were busom buddies getting ready for a game of Frisbee and some barbequed ribs at the park.  
	"Sorry..." the Beast king said between moans.  "South wind cold.  North wind warm.  North wind not friendly."
	"Isn't that backwards?" Benedick said, brow arched.
	The Beast king merely shrugged his shoulders and trudged on, the wind beginning to clear a path before them.  At this moment it merely cleared away fallen leaves and party debris.
	They were in the southern portion of the castle, a small distance from the scene of fighting.  Crows filled the sky relentlessly, but there wasn't an immediate danger of being discovered.
	The danger was behind schedule by a minute or so.
	"Eep!" cried the leader of the Fieries.  "Here come them elves!  They looks like they gonna pull all our arms off and use'em fer shish kebobs! That ain't so groovy!"
           "So it does.  And I just had elf meat cleaned off my breeches this afternoon," Benedick quipped.  "Well, if we have to fight..."
	Sage stopped him.  "No. Wait."
	The Beast king moaned more forcefully, and the wind came in a great gust that not only blew the beast's shaggy fur torrentially about his pug-nosed face, but sent the elves reeling against the wall, where they attempted to raise themselves in their stupor of adrenaline and anger.
	"Ah, there you go. Our friend has parted the seas." He beckoned for the other kings and queens to go before him.  "Shall we?"
	Eberon ran before his minions, covering his face against the wind.  "Damn you Sage, I'll get you!  Just you wait!"
	Sage put a hand to his ear mockingly, and replied, "Eh? Sorry chap, can't hear you.  Got a trip to make!  I'm sure we can continue this conversation later."
	Clearly peeved beyond redemption, Eberon spoke to one of the elves, who looked as if he might slit someone's throat any moment.  "Look, you get a group of elves, and follow them.  I don't care how long it takes.  They'll have to let up sometime.  Bring back Sage, but you can kill the others if you so choose."
	He was clearly ready to satiate his growing appetite for murder.  "Yes, Eberon."
	Eberon looked as if he had been sorely inconvenienced by the whole situation.  "Just get out of my face!  Where's my masseuse when I need him?  My temples are throbbing.  Oh, right, he went on a murderous rampage this morning.  Would someone tell me when the ride is done?"  With that, he sighed deeply and trudged to his temporary quarters in the castle.  
	On one desk sat a cage carrying several bizarre-looking pigeons.  Eberon looked at them disgustedly and remarked,"You are the most creepy aquiline creatures I have set eyes upon.  You have much in common with your master.  I certainly hope he gets the job done as well as you have seemed to."  He shuffled over to another desk and tried to scribble out a note with a common ball-point pen.  It dried out before he had even begun, and he threw it at the wall in exasperation.  "Stupid pens!  Some things should just stay above ground! Where's my quill pen?  Dammitall if everything doesn't go wrong at once!"  He tried to find another pen, in vain.  "I must send Jareth, or Kaleb, whoever the blast he is a message.  I need a pen!"  He looked down, and a quill feather floated before him.  He looked up to find the source, but knew what he would face before it was in front of his eyes.
	"Looking for me, maybe?" Kaleb replied as he sauntered into the room.
	"Er, yes Jareth.  I was about to send you a message."  The hautiness disappeared quickly.
	"Perhaps about the fact that your most important prisoners have escaped? You could have contacted me directly.  But, I understand.  You didn't want to face my wrath."
	"Perhaps it was something of that nature."
	"Hm.  Well, I am not angry just yet.  Did you notice if Jareth... the other Jareth... was amongst them?"
	"I didn't see him, no."  He almost flinched at his own words.
	"Really."  Kaleb seemed to contain his anger well.  "You know, it's beginning to look as if you are of very little use to me, Eberon.  I'm starting to doubt your abilities."
	"Oh no, you won't threaten me," Eberon answered, only semi-sure of his assuredness.  "You've pulled that trick on many others before, but I am the king of the elves."
	"Yes, the elves.  Who are now a bungling group of anarchist militia under my spell.  And what else do you have to your advantage, Eberon?"
	"Er,... my intelligence."
	"Which has managed to fail you completely unto this point.  Now, tell me, do you really think I am threatening you? Because I wouldn't have you think that for an instant."
	"Really?  I'm sorry for doubting you, Jareth."
	"Don't be.  It's too late for that."
	Faster than it takes most suicide jumpers to hit ground after a lunge from a five-story building, Kaleb and Eberon were inside Kaleb's remarkably gloomy palace.  Actually, Kaleb was looking at Eberon, who seemed a mere plaything within the glass cage where Kaleb had placed him.  He had been dressed fancifully in a doll's attire, and was amongst doll-like belongings.  He was a jester prince, and would be the delight of any four-year old.
	"You see, Eberon, I don't make threats.  And, I have passed my judgment on your behalf.  You are a play-king, so I think I shall treat you as such.  Enjoy your new home."
	As Kaleb began to leave, he added, "Now you can be my entertainment instead of my constant disappointment, eh?"
	"This isn't right!  I helped you!  I did everything you asked, and more!  And this is how you treat me?"  Eberon was shouting, his white makeup leaving a smudge on the glass as he pressed against it.
	"Ah, fitting actions for one who looks like a fool." Kaleb turned to face the elf a last time before he left.  "Besides, what is fair?  What you did to Sage's wife... Now that was cruel treatment.  Your shining moment.  You, of all people, must understand that fairness never enters the picture.  You, my friend, have no basis for comparison."
	With that, he left, to see in what state Sarah awaited him.  He licked his lips eversoslightly at the prospect of what was to come.
	Eberon merely sat and glowered, cursing his self-sown demise.
 
	Toby looked up from the nearly empty plate of cookies to see a blond-haired man step into the room.  A look of recognition crossed his face as Madame Marlena rose from her seat to greet who appeared to be a new customer... with a cute little dog.
	"Hello sir.  How can I help you?" Marlena asked, her elfin eyes hinting at a secret past, and her flirtatious grin carrying the grace of a princess.
	"Hello Madame.  I am... looking for this young lad you have sitting with you."
	Toby looked a little surprised.  Rattlebeak popped his head up from behind the couch where he was hiding when he heard Jareth's voice.  Cookie crumbs fell from his beak as he cried, "Sir Didymus!  Long time no see!  What're you doing with this loser, hey?"  He brushed cookie crumbs off his wings before flying over to the fox.  "Man, what happened to you?  You look like you've been attacked by a freezing, desperate dwarf.  What're you holding your clothes for?"
	"Don't ask, dear sir.  For once, I don't wish to delve into the tale."  Sir Didymus sniffled, huffed, and looked off into the distance disdainfully. 
	Jareth looked baffled by the circumstances, as well as Toby.  Marlena was the only one who seemed to think such matters were commonplace.  The situation duly summed up, the woman went to the door, turned her "Open" sign around to read "Closed," then closed the curtains.  "We don't want the neighborhood spying in on this unique situation," she explained as she locked the door. 
	"You're the Goblin King, aren't you?!" Toby exclaimed in sudden understanding as he toppled the cookies.  "Sorry," he mumbled shyly to Marlena.
	"It's quite all right," she soothed.
	"Pardon me, Madame, but you aren't the least bit thrown by any of this?" Jareth asked.
	"Just a bit.  But, I do practice magic, and have seen a few talking familiars in my time."
	"Familiars?" Didymus asked.
	"Animals who have-"
	"Eh, Madame, before you continue this story which will surely rouse our fine knight into another semi-avoidable pitch of anger, let me introduce myself and my companion."
	"Why, yes, of course," she answered.  "I am Marlena."
	"My name is Jareth, and this is Sir Didymus.  I haven't yet had the pleasure of meeting the Magicmocker fellow..."
	"Who says I should introduce myelf to you?" Rattlebeak huffed.
	"Well, you certainly don't have to, but I think you have a wrong impression of me."
	"Rattlebeak.  Don't ask me nuthin' else.  I don't have any reason to trust you.  Last time I had any involvement with you, you had me and Sarah running on a goose-chase all over the Underground.  She wasn't a happy camper."
	"Yes, but at least you got to eat all of the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches I provided her."
	"Er, well, you do have a point..."
	"I always have a point.  Whether it is valid is another point entirely."  
	"Well, do come in and have a seat and tell me about your circumstances.  I would offer cookies, but I believe that Rattlebeak has enjoyed them quite thoroughly," Marlena said genteely.
	"They were delicious!" the bird replied.  "I was hoping you had more."
	"What are you doing here?" Toby asked, breaking the frivolous conversation and getting to the point.
	Jareth sat down whilst Didymus slinked to a corner where he could dress in private.  He soon returned in full garb, in time for Jareth's explanation.  "Well, Toby, we need your help..."
 
* * *

Caked in mud and wholly miserable, Granen trudged through Jareth's "grey matter" in search for some type of escape route.  As he had never actually been in one of Jareth's paintings, he didn't know the words that would help him leave.  He had only seen Jareth enter, nothing more.
	"Curse you, lad, I'll teach you to ever pick up a paintbrush again while in a morose state.  Your suicidal thoughts are going to be my death!"
	He pulled his jacket closer and looked for a nice rotten branch to sit upon.  As soon as he did, little glowing orbs of fairies floated around his head.  
	"Little fey, there's nothin' here of warmth or brightness for you to see.  Just a grumpy old Irishman."
	"You are wrong, Granen of the steppes," a multitude of crystalline fairy voices chimed.  "You are a warm spirit.  You bring fire into souls."
	"Ah, this painting is evidence enough that I don't.  I tried hard enough to bring Jareth out of the gloom that he was having at the time he painted this.  Not a thing worked."
	"No.  Look behind you and see your footsteps."  The unearthly voices beckoned him to look.  Never before had he heard a more feminine voice, and, for once, he did not picture bosoms.  Instead, strangely, he saw wind chimes made of shards of glass.
	He did as bidden.  Behind him, where he had stepped, ribbons of colors swayed dreamily and abstractly into the environment.  "How did I do that?" he asked.  "That wasn't there before."
	"But it was..."  The little sprites inched forward close enough to where he could barely glimpse through squinted eyes a hint of a female figure.  "We speak for Jareth, for he created us.  You created the rainbow of color.  You can see your kind deeds at work.  In reality, they sit, a mere spot of color in the corner of this painting.  But where you walk, the colors come alive.  They live in Jareth's mind, so here they live, as well.  You helped to make him whole again."  Their voices trailed into the air, an echo of brilliance.  Their slow cadence filled the greyness with a vibrant calm.
	"Wow.  I didn't realize I had anything to do with it.  Well, I daresay, he's kept me sane upon occasion.  And driven me insane as well, wot?!"  He slapped his knees and rose.  "You lovely ladies wouldn't know how I would get out of this mess, would ya?"
	"You cannot leave yet, Granen of the steppes."
	"And why would that be?" he asked.
	"You think you are only in a painting.  But Jareth's painting lives in the Mist of Dreams.  This is one of his dreams.  There are many dreams living here, it is but for you to journey into whichever you choose."
	"Why would I want to do that? Seems a bit intrusive, doesn't it?"
	"Some intrusions are necessary."
	They flittered away mystically, and with their departure, came another barely audible voice, calling in the distance.  
	"Help me...  I can't wake up...."
 
* * *
 
Sarah admired herself in the mirror.  The inky black was slowly drizzling away from her skin and transforming itself into the black feathers and gown she had donned in her reflection.  It was a spectacular site to behold, she thought, to see with one's own eyes in a matter of seconds the transformation of the soul into something so extreme.  She was far enough past the resistance to feel a sort of cunning for having fooled herself so, to have watched in third person as the woman who was Sarah was twisted into a new creature by... whom?  Was it Kaleb?
	No.  She did it to herself, though she had no knowledge of how cunning she was in her own subconscious.  No longer subconscious.  Now, the Sarah that had been tucked away for so long was released, and there would be no more ceremonies, no more grand and lovely speeches, no more placing her needs below that of the creatures of seven different kingdoms.  
	Kaleb wanted a playmate, he wanted to treat her like his evil little doll, just as he had done with Eberon.  Yes, she knew of Eberon.  With her dark side unleashed, she was much more in touch with her powers.  
	Well, she wasn't going to be anyone's plaything.  Besides, she knew exactly which strings to pull with Kaleb.  Now she was in the position to pull them.  She'd pull everyone's strings.  And they wouldn't even know what was happening.
	She looked around the luxurious chambers that she could easily see had meant to be her bedroom.  She could hear Kaleb walking down the hall, toward her, toward the woman he thought would be the Bonnie to his Clyde.
	She fluttered around, facing him like a frightened doe.  He grinned evilly.
	"Ah, hello my raven.  Feeling well?"
	"What have you done to me?!" she shouted.  "I'm- I'm changing!  This is the most horrible feeling!  How could you do this?"  She clenched her fists in pain, her face taut.  Oh, what an actress Sarah had become!
	"Only giving you the opportunity to play the part, dearest.  You'll be thanking me soon enough."  He closed in on her and stroked her chin.  "It only surprises me that you haven't caved in sooner.  You're stronger than I thought."
	"What does it matter?  You plan to cave me in before it's all over with."
	"I do.  You're right.  It doesn't matter.  But, for safety's sake, I will have to lock you in this room until you have completed your transformation.  I can't trust you just yet."
	"You bastard."
	"Now now, no need for harsh words.  You can torment me later when I can fully express to you the things it does to me."  He pretended to have a chill, walked out the door, then motioned the door shut and locked with the mere swing of his hand, bringing him out of her sight.  At least, her immediate sight.
	I can't manipulate the solid things here, but at least I can see everything within the castle.  That is one advantage I have.  Soon, I will have more.  I'm going to steal the amethyst back from you, Kaleb, and when I do, you shall see who is in control of the Undergound. You'll see soon enough.




CHAPTER XXII: Ominous Premonitions 


Leah turned to face Isabelle and Vindar, slamming and locking the chamber door behind her.  Soon after, angry voices grew to a pitch on the other side, fists banging on the thick wood.  "I've had enough.  We've got to do something, and quick.  I'm the queen today, and I won't put up with this crap."
	"Looky here, a woman with some fire in her heart," Vindar quipped.
	"What do you want to do?" asked Isabelle.
	"It's pretty obvious that these crows hold a spell with them that causes everyone to go nutty, right?  There's no way we're going to get any control over these guys, so I say we put as many of them in the dungeons as we can.  I'm sure there are a few people yet who haven't been exposed, and maybe they could help us."
	Vindar's face lit up.  "Even better, we could break into the magic room and find some spells of our own, teleportation, trapping, even temporary shape-shifting.  Whatever we can find.  This would keep us safe from their weapons until we could move them to the dungeons."
	"I know what places to look for help... We could give out crystals to a few to help out, so we could speed up the process," Isabelle offered.
	Leah had to shout over the loud voices behind, "Don't they know these doors are bound by magic and unbreakable?"  She turned to the door and shouted, "Could you please keep it down!?"  Surprisingly, the attackers became silent at her intimidating voice.  She turned to face them again, pacing the area in front of them.  "I think you both have some good ideas," she continued, "and we definitely need to regain control of the kingdom as soon as possible.  From the first, we need to let Kaleb know that he's not going to manipulate us that easily.  Our second matter of business is to get Sage's plan for disabling the crows into commission.  It doesn't seem like there are any new swarms of birds headed our way, so we should be able to work with the ones that are already here.  And, once we have a few of our current instigators in the dungeons, we can also make sure that we take care of their loopiness, as well."
	Vindar rubbed his sharp cheeks as he switched the topic to more somber matters. "You know, before this all broke out, Hoggle's dad was in a pretty bad lot.  We need to find him and see what we can do.  I think everyone forgot him in the chaos."
	Leah sighed.  "Yeah, you're right.  But I don't know what we can do.  I have a sneaking suspicion that there would have been some tragedy in this day, regardless of whether or not Kaleb pulled his tricks."
	The face of the young Isabelle flushed as she wrung her hands.  "Oh, poor Hoggle!"
	"You go find him Isabelle, while we get the ball rolling on the plan.  Go through the secret passageways to make sure you don't get into any trouble," Leah said while she pushed back a piece of wall in their current location to reveal a dark hallway.  
	"Okay.  I sure hope he's alright."



"No you're not!  Look'ere, I ain't gonna let you give up! What kinda nonsense talk is that?"  Hoggle pulled the covers closer up to his father's neck as he nervously eyed the barred door over his shoulder.  "We're gonna needs your 'elp!  You can't leave us when you gots a chance to prove how smart you are!  You'd never miss a chance to lord over everyone."  
	"Oh, shut your trap, boy.  You too busy talking, don't know what you're sayin'.  I'm too tired, I don' wanna help no one.  You kin handle yerselves.  Good sleep is callin' me.  I spent too many nights up late, writin' and writin' for everyone else, but now I needs to sleep.  Shuddup and let me!"
	Hoggle's mother stepped in and put a comforting hand over the bulge in the blanket where Hoggle Senior's hand lay.  "Look now, hun, don't hassle 'im.  Remember our pact?  You know this is gonna be hard on 'im, let 'im be."
	"Aw, he's a young lad yet, he kin handle it, he's got..." Hoggle Senior quickly broke into profuse coughing.
	Hoggle ignored his father's obvious pain and demanded, "What're you talkin' about?  What pact?  You tell me, I don' like surprises."
	Mrs. Hiddlebury wrung her hands and gave her husband a long careful glance before she looked back at her son.  "We never told you 'bout this, Son, but we made a pact with the aid of a sorcerer saying that we would go to the afterworld together.  The sorcerer sealed the pact with a spell."
	"What're you sayin'?" Hoggle demanded, shaking more with each moment.
	"If one of us passes to the other realm, the other will, too."  She was somber as she gazed at her troubled boy.
	Hoggle took a moment to find his tongue.  "I don' believe it! You're just pullin' my leg.  Now that's enough, yous better get better, Pops, these jokes ain't doin' no good for my health."
	"Son, she's tellin' ya true," Mr. Hiddlebury said with drooping eyelids.  It was obvious that his fire was dimming with each moment.
	Hoggle broke out into a rage and stormed around the room.  "How could ya do this to me!? To yer son!  Not only I got to lose my dad right when his stubborn will is gonna let me back inside his home, but now I gotsta lose my Mum, who's healthy as a steed, and could be here to console me?"  He turned around.  His father's figure lay limp in the bed, gradually disappearing into another realm, whilst his mother remained, a wan smile on her face.  "He didn't get a chance to tell you, my good boy, but he loves you, and so do I.  I'm sorry that this will be so hard for you, but at least know yer father's not alone in his journey.  We will be watchin' over you.  We're proud of you."
	With her last breath, she said, "Good-bye my little Hoggle."
	Hoggle stared with his mouth agape and the empty bed before him.  It was like a tragic and sudden car crash.  And where were his friends? He needed Sarah more than ever, to cry in the arms of the only friend to which he would allow himself to show his tears.  
	All alone, he fell onto his knees, clutching the blanket under which his father once lay, sobbing wildly into its plush, feathery depths.  "Oh, Papa, Mum... I'm gonna miss you!  And my last words were harsh.  How could I?  How could I 'ave known?  Why didn' you tell me?  Oh, damn you, Hoggle..."


Trees of all types were fashioned in eloquent patterns, leading to various gardens of purple and burgundy flowers, dark leaves heralding an age of wing.  The dark shadows of birds flittered throughout the large room, sometimes aimlessly from tree to tree, sometimes to feed from the various bowls of seed throughout the room.  The birds numbered in the thousands, and most of them consisted of crows and ravens.
	The dark beauty of the room was enchanting, but Sarah was not here for pleasure.  Peeking from behind the leaves of a birch tree, she watched as Kaleb worked at an ornate wooden desk, doing more thoughtful brooding than writing.  On the desk sat the assembled pieces of the amethyst, glowing from within with a reddish light.  Many iron-wrought bookshelves lined his little haven in the aviary, between which sat a strange scrying device which bore intricate designs in silver.
	Kaleb did not see the spying Sarah due to the fact that she had cleverly transformed herself into an easily-concealed dove.  After surveying the surroundings, she quietly flew to a tree nearer the scrying device to watch the images that flashed through its depths.
	Within she saw images of the various kingdoms engaged in civil war as well as war abroad.  It seemed as if Kaleb definitely had his grip on the seven kingdoms of the great council, with a great potential for gaining a foothold on several more.  She wasn't exactly sure what his plan was, but she had an inkling.  It was too bad that he was such a small thinker and so limited by power and circumstances.  
	He pulled out a pocketwatch, and, upon considering the time he rose from his chair in preparation for an exit.  "She should be ready by now," he mumbled.
	Not as aware as you would like to seem, Kaleb.  She took wing and flew back to her current chambers, where she knew he would soon seek her out.  As she felt the cool chill of the wind under her temporary feathers, a thought came to mind.  He wants to use me to rule the Underground.  But I will use him... to rule it all.  Perhaps New York is finally ready for my arrival.


Once they had become clear of the Labyrinth, it didn't take Sage long to summon the remaining Spangores in the birds' kingdom atop the tall Shadow Mountains.  A few had remained clear of the crows, which were too small in frame to be able to fly over the high windy peaks of the mountain, therefore saving them from the negative effects of the small birds' magic.  With a little crafty maneuvering and a lot of risk, the kings and queens of the various kingdoms were dropped off at their respective palaces to begin preparations for the coming resistance and to take stock of the damage that had been done.
	Sage was very happy that they hadn't had to continue the journey on foot.  As the Fieries weren't much for keeping a granary and the Felines did not eat grains, Benedick and the fiery Eepwot joined Sage in his journey to the elfin kingdom.  The small band snuck in through the palace windows, as the doors had been heavily fortified.  Their Spangore, Jinga let them down softly upon the throne room floor, where they stepped down, greeted immediately by the few sane elves in the kingdom.  
	As Sage was making his greetings to a group of very happy elves who had assumed their rescue was around the corner, a tall elf pushed his way through the crowd to grasp Sage.  "Sage! My old friend!  Oh, thank the stars you are here!"
	"Mandelbrot?  Is that you?  It joys me to see a familiar elfin face greet me with such happiness.  I thought I was an enemy to all who knew me."
	"Not all, my friend."  He pushed his red hair behind his ears and bent over to whisper to Sage, "Some of us remember what our kingdom could have been had the fools not kept you from being king."
	Sage turned to his two traveling companions to introduce the elf.  "This is Mandelbrot, advisor and sorcerer to the king who is currently betraying everyone.  Which makes me inclined to believe Eberon listens to none of his advice."
	"Oh, Sage, if only you knew how right you are."  He looked up the the questioning crowd of elves in the throne room and said, "This is just an old friend come to lend us a hand.  Would some of you mind preparing a meal for him and his escorts, as well as a room?  Do not worry my friends, all will be well.  We must continue on with affairs as usual until a solution comes to light."
	They trusted in his judgment and went to other affairs to leave Mandelbrot and his arrivals to themselves.  "So, Sage," Mandelbrot said in hushed tones, "please tell me that you and your friends have indeed come to lend a hand, to get us out of this wretched plight that our king has brought upon us?"
	"You know that it is Eberon, then?" Sage queried as Mandelbrot led them through the dining hall and into a smaller eating chamber next to the kitchen.
	"I do.  None of the remaining sane ones among us are aware, though.  I have kept it hidden.  I have kept much hidden, at least for now, to keep it calm.  Until the right time.  Then I will reveal all."  Mandelbrot took a pitcher of wine and glasses from the servant elf as she handed them to him, and placed them on the table before the group, indicating for everyone to sit.  "Thank you, Gella," he said to the girl.  She nodded and went to the kitchen to finish preparing a meal.
	"I understand.  Yes, we are here to do what we can," Sage said.
	"We've got a plan, dear chap," offered Benedick.
	"You have introduced me, but not your friends..." Mandelbrot said.
	"Benedick," the cat said as he stuck his paw out for a good shake.
	"I'm Eepwot," the fiery said as he pointed lazily to his chest.  "This good feller's Jinga of the Spangores, gave us a nice ride down 'ere."  Jinga nodded and smiled as he perched near the table.
	"Nice to meet you all," Mandelbrot said with a nod of his head.  "Now, what is this plan?"
	"Well, it's going to take a little time, but it's the only thing I can think of, so we're going to run with it.  We need you to harvest as much corn and grain as you can."
	Mandelbrot seemed already to understand.  "Genius.  Then you will enchant it and spread it about for the crows to eat?  Tis a grand idea.  The only way to counteract the spell that was originally cast upon them and use them to reverse the effects."
	"You catch on quickly," Benedick exclaimed.  
	"Well, you have to be quick in my line of work.  Or should I say our line of work, eh Sage?  Congratulations on becoming advisor to Queen Sarah.  You really deserve to be king, but I am sure she has a fine and more kinder kingdom at your beck.  How is your son, Vindar?"
	"He is well.  Currently he is at the castle trying to bring some calm to Sunset City, hopefully not distracted by love."  He and Benedick chuckled at this statement.
	"Uh oh, courting a young lady?" Mandelbrot declared.
	"Yes, a young woman named Isabelle.  She's a lovely lass, comes from the valleys of the Shadow Mountains.  I am very proud of both of them."
	"She is human, then?  It is very wonderful to see that Queen Sarah has a much more open kingdom than we do here.  Love is love, no matter what race you are."
	Sage, saddened by his statement, replied, "Yes.  Yes it is."
	A young male elf came into the kitchen and whispered into Mandelbrot's ear.  Mandelbrot nodded his head and told the elf, "Very good.  I need you to get Simeon, the harvester.  Tell him to gather all the grains from the granaries and to do his best to harvest all the corn and grains he can.  We'll take advantage of this lull time to put a plan into action.  Do what the last two did to avoid the crows' spell."
	After the elf male left, Sage asked, "Is there news?"
	"Yes.  It looks as if our people have become so worn out from fighting that many have just collapsed to sleep.  There are very few remaining awake enough to fight.  It is very strange, few have been killed so far in these battles.  I haven't been able to risk seeing the wounded first hand, but I suspect that there is something in these spells causing fast healing to occur, else we would have many more dead.  This is all an elaborate ploy to cause chaos, Sage, I can almost assure you.  There is something quite different at stake.  These are suddenly dark times, Sage, but I have met with the prophets, and they tell of a far darker future.  It's really unfathomable.  New magic coming into our world, with limitless destructive power."
	Sage pinched the hairs of his goatee thoughtfully.  "More bad news, that's all we need.  Well, all we can do is play along and do what we can.  I'm certain we'll come out on top in the long run.  Or at least I hope so."
	Their food arrived in short order, and they ate ravenously.  The break of dawn would soon approach, and weary eyes and hearts made way for a barely restful slumber.
	Sage barely slept at all, dreaming of a love long lost at the hands of a foolish foe...




Jareth and Marlena stayed up most of the night talking whilst Rattlebeak and Toby slept, Sir Didymus slouched in a corner asleep, a result of his failed and needless attempts at staying on guard for the night.
	"So, you're quest is to save your lady love from a dark stranger in a foreign land.  Sadly, this man is also part of yourself, so you must have aid in the form of this young boy to help you destroy him without destroying yourself.  This is really fascinating, you know, to hear first hand of other realms.  You are very lucky to live in such a place, do you know?"  Marlena's face was lit up in the warm lamp-glow of the last flames while her eyes stared off dreamily in an attempt to conjure up images of the Underground.
	"It seems very commonplace to me.  But, as a boy and a man, I would look into this realm and see how often people here dreamt of being a part of worlds like mine.  It taught me a bit of appreciation for my world, even in the difficult times.  Maybe that is why I loved Sarah so, she was completely immersed in my world in particular, while it had become so commonplace to me.  She sparked a bit of magic into my life that I was never able to extinguish."  He brushed his fingers through his hair and let out a small laugh. "You know, it's funny, I can talk to you better than anyone, excepting my companion Granen."
	"It's because I don't have any preconceived notions of you, I would suppose.  It seems to me that everyone has already made their opinion of you, even your love."  Marlena cut down to the harsh truth with an amazing gentleness.  "But, if you remain in your current efforts to be seen as who you truly are, it won't be long before your world changes, I am sure of that."
	"Well, thank you.  It is a comforting thought.  You really don't sound as if you belong to this world, Marlena.  Where are you from?"
	"I don't know.  I don't remember much about my youth or my life as a young adult.  I was found in the forest in a coma at the age of twenty-three.  I lived in a mental hospital for some time before I was able to live in the everyday world.  I had to be trained on how to support myself.  Even then, I eventually went against all my teachings and put this shop together.  I've been very successful.  I watch shows about the unexplainable religiously, and did throughout my time in the hospital.  I think something profound happened to me in those woods, and that is where I acquired my magical abilities.  They are rare here, perhaps more due to people's limited viewpoints more than limited abilities.  Very few people here would believe magic if it poofed out of nowhere right in front of their eyes!"  She chuckled at the thought.  "Though, we do have our share of lovely loonies here in New York.  I think they are the ones who breathe true life into this city.  There would be no sanity if it weren't for their insanity."
	"Very well said."  Jareth wore an expression of true appreciation.  The conversation had put him at ease in this land of strange wonders.  "I wonder what we are going to do about our little set of loonies.  We are supposed to find the house of Sarah's... erm, twin I suppose you would call her.  She has an enchanted mirror that will take us back to the Underground to perform our duties there.  We thought Toby would be near her home and we would quickly be able to retrieve him, but, as you can see, things haven't gone according to plan."
	"I don't know what to tell you.  I doubt he is powerful enough to fly you back with him, and you both need to be there for the spell.  Which means you need to get some money together to either take a bus or fly on a plane to the city, if it is a long distance.  You'll never make it on foot in time.  I don't have any money I could give you right now, but I should be able to afford a little bit in a couple of days.  If you can wait, I'll spare what I can.  In the meantime, you can stay here.  My rooms are upstairs, and I have a fairly large extra room that you can all stay in.  I wish I had a spell strong enough to help you, but, as you can see, I only now know of the existence of your world, which would indicate that I have a great deal more to learn."
	"You are very hospitable.  We really appreciate your kindness.  We are also at your disposal until you acquire the money, and we will be sure to compensate you.  You could come with us, and stay.  I think you would fit in very well."
	"That is a lovely idea."  She sighed at the thought.  "I may very well take you up on that offer."  She rose from the couch and eyed Toby's sleeping form.  "Until then, I suppose we should be getting you guys off to bed.  It's been a long night for you."
	"Yes it has.  But, it would have been much longer had not chance brought you across our path."
	"I don't know," she answered as she gazed upon Toby as she gingerly picked him up.  "I don't think it was chance."





CHAPTER XXIII: Separation 


Granen pushed his way through the foliage in an effort to find the source of the voice calling for help. Now my subconscious has come alive...  No way anyone could be in my dream world.  This be gettin' stranger all the time.
	The misty green-grey surrounded him, dust motes shimmering in silver air.  The rustling of the leaves as he brushed them sounded like tinkling metal.  Beyond a wall of maple leaves he found the one in need of help.  In a tattered white gown she sat feebly in the clearing, her eerie bright green eyes like emeralds shifting in the light.  She looked up at him with an expression of otherworldly innocence, and he would have sworn she was a fae if he didn't already know her as the queen of Sunset City.
	"Sarah?  Lass, whatcha be doin' in Jareth's paintin'?  Blimey, if he's done this to get you in his grips, then I musta had no true notion of how desperate he was to 'ave you.  You bein' alright Lady?"
	"Where... where am I?" she stammered.  "Where did I come from?"
	"I can't answer that second part for ya, and, frankly, I don' think I can answer the first part, either.  I don' really know where we are meself.  I just know I stepped through one'a Jareth's paintin's, and here I am.  A dismal place this be, but your company I am sure will alleviate that."  He reached down and helped her up, putting her left arm round his shoulders so that he might prop her up in her dizzied state.  "C'mon over here, Lass, sit down on this log.  You look 'orrible, like you been dragged through the ringer.  You sure you can't remember what happened?"
	Sarah looked into the distance and struggled for an inkling of what came before her present state.  "No..."  When she turned to gaze at Granen, remembrance flashed in her fae eyes, causing the man to shiver visibly, his face blushing red, like he had been utterly exposed.  "Wait," she said, breaking his stupor.  "I do remember.  I was in Kaleb's castle, and I looked into a kind of mirror... And..."  She looked horribly disturbed by the next idea.
	"What is it?" Kaleb asked in dread.
	"It... it was an awful feeling.  Like I was being separated from myself.  I feel strange.  Like I'm free, like all the dark parts came away."
	"Why do ya look so upset if you feel free?" Kaleb asked in confusion.
	"Because I'm not who I am.  I'm alone.  Out of balance, I guess." She paused as it sunk in.  "I'm alone."  She looked away idly, contemplating the thought gravely.
	"Now don' be silly, Love.  I'm here."
	"No," she said, still staring in the distance.  "That's not what I mean.  I'm alone inside.  Vulnerable.  I don' know how to protect myself.  But I can't tell you how... or what it is I mean.  I can't explain.  It's just awful."
	"Well, I'll protect you, Love.  Don' you worry, Granen's 'ere, and there's no one I can't cut down with my sharp wit."  He gave her a becoming grin, to which she responded in kind.  
	"That's nice of you."
	"Ah, think nothin' of it."  He looked into the hazy, shifting colors in the distance and said, "If you're feelin' up to it, you might help me figure out how we can get ourselves out of this mess."
	"Yeah, I feel better," she answered.  "Well enough, anyhow.  Where do you suppose we are?  I doubt Kaleb would have sent me into one of Jareth's paintings, no matter how cruel his sense of irony is."
	"We've got to be somewhere in the Underground.  Doesn't look like anyplace I've been to, though," Granen said.
	Sarah rose and brushed herself off.  "You know, it kind of reminds me of the Mist of Dreams.  I mean, I've never been there, but it sounds like the legends."
	"Oh, don't be sayin' things like that," Granen replied with a chill.
	"Why?  What did I say?"
	Granen started them off in a random direction.  "If you know that much about the Mists, you probably also 'eard that no one comes out of the Mists, either.  Now, if you end up in a fantasy land of yer making, then that would be a grand vacation, but, if you end up in a nightmare of yer making, you're really done for.  And I don' think many folks end up with lovely dreams."
	"Maybe it all depends on the circumstances," Sarah replied.  "I don't know, if we are in the Mists, I don't feel so worried.  I feel like we can get ourselves out.  I don't think there's any puzzle you can't solve if you try hard enough.  It may take us a little while..."  
She drifted off suddenly with a hazy gaze into the impressionistic forest.
Granen broke the silence.  "You, uh, realize that your eyes have changed colors, eh?"
	"Really?" she answered in surprise.  "What color are they?"
	"Bright green, like me mother's," Granen answered.  "Actually, no.  Not like me mother's.  They're brighter.  Like a river in sunlight."
	"You are a flatterer too, huh?"
	"What, me?  'Course I am.  Why you think Jareth keeps company with me?" He chuckled lightly, but quickly sobered.  "But for once I don't be flatterin', Love.  Your eyes aren't becoming of a lady.  They are becoming more of a faery.  An' trust me, I know enough faeries to say for sure I'm not lyin' to ya."
	"How strange," she answered.  "Kind of like Jareth."
	"What do ya mean?" Understandly flashed across his face.  "Oh, yes, his eyes are green, too."
	She shook her head.  "But they didn't use to be.  More often than not, they were blue.  But, now that he is back, they're green."
	"More often than not?" he asked.  "You make it sound like his eyes had multiple personalities."
	"They did.  So did he.  Whenever he was kind, his eyes turned green.  When cruel, they were icy blue.  At least, that's how it was four years ago.  Maybe it had something to do with the fact that his shadow was living inside of him."
	"Ah, so he's told you about that, has'e?"
	"Yes.  Though I found it hard to believe him at first.  But, the more I think about it, the more I realize how he must have been struggling inside.  That's why his behavior was so erratic."  She sighed heartily.  "Poor man."
	Granen gave her a curious look out of the corner of his eye.  "You seem awfully sympathetic.  Jareth was convinced you would be as willing to forgive him as rain in a firestorm."
	"Hmm.  I wasn't willing to forgive him.  I don't know, I feel very different about it right now.  I have no hurtful feelings toward him at all.  I just wonder why he left."  She was quiet a moment, then added, "You know, there is something really wrong, because I hated him not two hours ago."
	"I'm sure that from his perspective he'd be seein' this as a good turn of affairs," Granen answered with a laugh.  "Maybe it has something to do with what Kaleb did to you.  Though I can't see why he'd instill you with feelin's of love an' 'appiness, then send you to the Mist of Dreams.  I just don' see where he might be goin' with this plan."
	"I don't know, maybe I'll remember something that will give us a clue."
	"You keep tryin' to figure it out.  Ya never know, you might find it's connected to how we'll be getting' outta 'ere."
	"Tell me, Granen, why did Jareth leave me four years ago?  When we were together, when I got the amethyst, he seemed to have changed completely.  He swore he loved me and meant no harm.  He must have been freed from his shadow by that point.  Then he gave me the kingdom..."  She looked frustrated all of a sudden.  "But I really only wanted to share it with him, deep down!" she exclaimed.   "I was still young then, most of it was just attraction... but through the past four years I can truly say I think that we were soulmates, somehow.  I mean, I honestly never really got to know him that well, and had seen little kindness from him.  But there was a connection.  I even felt it with him once he revealed himself after the contest through the Labyrinth earlier.  And I know he must have felt it too.  Why did he leave then?  We had such a good chance!"
	Granen shook his head somberly.  "Ah, Lass, things are always more difficult than we can see on the outside.  Just think of what he was going through.  For more years than you can imagine, he had been coexisting and being controlled by a force that lived inside himself.  When you came into his life the first time, he began to realize how disgusted he was with the turn his life had taken, and he slowly allowed himself to become fully aware of what was inside of him.  As he did this, the shadow took stronger means to control 'im... This is probably what you saw those four years ago, when he seemed torn in his emotions.   Once he rid himself of the beast, whatcha be thinkin' was goin' through 'is 'ead?  He didn' know who'e was...  How could'e truly share'is love with you if he wasn't sure what he was sharin'?  And how could he think you would understand at that moment?"  
	"I would've understood," Sarah said quietly.
	"Ah, but it was more'n that to 'im.  He didn' wanna take away your chance to live in your dreams, to enjoy your youth.  Trust me, he 'ad many demons to battle, I been with 'im through it the past three years.  It was an all out war in 'is soul.  I think 'e did the right thing, for better or worse.  It takes a strong man to take such an effort to face the darkness within 'imself, 'specially as deliberately as Jareth did.  And he did it for you.  Don' you ever be forgettin' that."
	Sarah was amazingly quiet throughout Granen's narrative.  All she could say was, "Thank you for explaining it all to me."
	"You're welcome, Lass.  Glad I could 'elp."




Isabelle pushed back the secret passageway to Hoggle Senior's chambers to find an empty room.  "That's curious," she said.  "Where could they have gone?"
	The candles had nearly burned down to nothing by now.  Determined to figure out where the Hiddleburys were, she left the room, and took a torch from the wall to use for light and protection, just in case any crazy critters crossed her path.
	"Okay," she said quietly and nervously, "n-now don't anyone come near me, I'm dangerous."  She thought about that a moment, then decided to grab a second torch.  "Yeah," she said a little more firmly, as if trying to instill confidence in herself.  "I - AM - DANGEROUS.  Remember that.  Make it real, Isabelle.  Me.  Isabelle.  What does that spell?  DANGEROUS.  Right, ok, I got it."
	She didn't really seem completely convinced, but she did put forth an effort.  Timidly she inched past corners in search for Hoggle and his family, but it wasn't long before she found the dwarf.
	He startled her as he bumped awkwardly into her while she was coming aruond a corner near his quarters.  She didn't realize it was him at first, so she flailed about madly for a few moments, making her torch weapons instantly known.  "Stay... stay away from me, I don't want to have to -"  She stopped when she realized she had bumped into a very drunk Hoggle.  "Oh, Hoggle, it's you!  You nearly scared my head right off my shoulders!  What on earth are you doing? Are you drunk?"
	He began swaying his bottle of bourbon as if it were an instrument for public speaking, and kept on walking past her whilst he babbled, "Shoulda wrote that book!  But the damned fieries, blast them, told me to party with them, and what do you know, I get stuck with that old rat.  But it ain't my fault only, I done made nothin' of meself... Oh, 'Oggle, what'ave you done?"  He let out a large belch as he continued on