Jareth lounged in the dim light of the small room, just as he had lounged for days now. There were no clocks, there were no windows—only eternal, dim candlelight in the posh suite that served as his prison. He had lost all sense of time and place. He had lost all hope.

He stared at the small dining table where his dinner appeared each night. He slouched in the chair and stared at it silently, the moments ticking away in his mind. It materialized right on time. A juicy red steak, potatoes, and a salad with a chalice of wine.

A snarl twitched on his face, but he did not move toward the food.

He suspected he might be going mad. He knew the food was drugged, and he had resisted eating it after the first time. He estimated it had been two days since. The effects had worn off eventually. Now, after two days without food, he was so hungry that he didn't care anymore. Perhaps it didn't matter. Perhaps he could eat to his heart's desire. The existence that was unrolling was not a happy ending, and it was probably not going to get any better anytime soon. He would give it some more time before he started to really entertain the occasional thought of suicide. Maybe a month. Maybe two. Then he would take the sharp steak knife and end it.

No one had rescued him. Never had he felt so helpless. On the first day, he tried every means of escape he could think of. On the second day, he had watched a full day of television, mindlessly absorbing every image of Sarah, anxiously expecting she would show her face and give him a chance to talk some sense into her. On the third day he tried to sleep, then realized he could not, that it was not in his power. Consumed by exhaustion and hunger, he had once again eaten the food, and watched as dark shadows from deep in his psyche tormented him for hours on end. It was probably just a hallucinogen, but on a mind already fraught with so much guilt, it was a dangerous medicine.

On the fourth day he settled into the couch in silence, a position from which he barely moved. There was a bathroom attached to his quarters, and a large closet full of fashionable clothing. He tried showering on the fifth day for a change of pace.

On the sixth day he again went insane from the drugged food.

Today was the seventh day. For kicks, he had used a steak knife to cut off most of his long, blonde hair to just above chin length, where it shagged roughly around his neck, just below his ears. The cut was boyish, but the darkness in his eyes was the darkness of an old man who had been thoroughly defeated.

Jareth hadn't cut his hair this short in many years. He always did it at his moments of darkest despair. The last time was about two hundred years into his slavery as the Goblin King. He had tried to leave the Labyrinth for several days, only to barely make it back, gasping in a pain of near but not quite death.

His eyes didn't move from the steak. Blood oozed from the steaming meat in expectation. He closed his eyelids and tried to imagine it all away.

His mind wandered to the dream where the light Sarah of Ice came to him in the snowy forests of his mind and kissed him out of his nightmare. He had imagined the image many times before. Each time he resisted the tears that threatened to well up. A sick, empty pain just lodged in his stomach now.

He gritted his teeth. He started to rise, debating whether or not the pain in his stomach was great enough to endure another day of torment. Just as he had begun to sit up, a slat in the door across from the couch slid open to reveal a pair of piercing purple eyes.

He turned his head suddenly, startled. There had been no activity in the room other than his breathing, screaming, and teeth gritting for days now. No matter how surprised he was, he was too beyond hope to jump at the sight of those eyes. They had been brown once. Now they were purple, and that could only mean that Sarah was finally under the full sway of the Amethyst.

He thought of the draw of his crystals, and how much greater the draw of the amethyst must be. Might as well be dead, he thought heavily.

The eyes watched him carefully. His own heavy lids fell as he sunk back into the chair, sighing deeply and brushing his fingers through his hair in discomfort.

He looked at the steak, not at the eyes. "What are we doing?" he said in a heavy tone, barely a whisper even. "What is happening here?"

The eyes continued to slice into him, but the owner of the eyes would not speak.

A sudden rage burned embers in Jareth's chest. He lunged from the couch, roaring a dragon's anger, and brought his fist down on the door next to the eyes. They didn't flinch as his own mismatched eyes met them. "I ASKED YOU WHAT THE HELL YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING!?" His breathing was ragged, his heart racing in a week of insanity and pent-up emotion.

The slat slid closed with finality. There was no other motion.

Jareth dropped his head against the door and slid down its cool surface. He sobbed like a teenager with tears he thought spent long ago. He finally got up and flung the food across the room with the full force of hisbody. The mashed potatoes splattered against the wall, then disappeared. The cleanliness of the room mocked him.

It wasn't the first dinner he had given such a treatment. He suspected it wouldn't be the last.

As he collapsed on the bed, he remembered that the eyes had visited him before, during one of his hallucinatory fits. The eyes had been visiting him awhile now.

Had it been a week? He wasn't sure now. Nor did he really care.

He thought of Toby's innocent face, the trust he had placed on the foolish man who was sitting so helpless now. If he had only trusted his instincts, and been more inclined to turn a deaf ear to Jeremiah's advice. If he had never entered Sarah's life. If he had never been born, none of this would have happened.

He pulled the piece of paper from his inner pocket. The spell titles taunted him.

"How to separate that which should not be whole. How to put together that which should never have been torn asunder."

He made the hand gestures, he said the words. He had done this many times. Nothing happened. He put it back into his inner coat pocket and stared at the ceiling.

I failed you, Toby.

##

The guinea pig camp had grown in size over the week as people and creatures alike came from all over the country to participate in the battle preparations for the coming war. Leah had returned to Los Angeles to continue work with Justin on the battle armor that everyone would use in the oncoming fight. The beings from the Creature Shop worked overtime to produce the gear for the hundreds that would make the stand on New York. Word had spread far and wide about the revolution, but it only looked as if there were two separate groups, acting independently.

Sarah had fallen in and out of consciousness over the slow, tormenting week that they were making preparations. She had assumed her strength would come back within a day, but it only seemed to dwindle with the passing days, as did her fortitude. She wandered around the enlarging camp site like a ghost. Everyone whispered about her, and gossip spread that she was fading. She had heard the gossip many times, and was starting to suspect it might be true. There were only three people that could help her through such taxing emotions—Leah, Sage, and Jareth.

And they were all out of reach. It was just her, alone with a power she didn't understand. The visions had left her completely, and she was beginning to suspect that the deities that had once so freely visited her in the dark recesses of her mind were fading too. Perhaps they had lost the threadbare connection with this world that had remained for them. Sarah was on her own.

She walked up the wood slat stage to the microphone. She was greeted by loud clapping, whistling, and waving from the newest recruits. She smiled at them graciously. "Welcome, friends. Thank you for making the sacrifice for our effort. I know some of you traveled great distances and faced great danger to come here. Our battle is close at hand, and it is with your bravery that we will succeed." The words felt hollow as they escaped her mouth, but the crowd didn't know any better—they clapped and yelped nonetheless. "Only a couple more days, maybe less before we make our move on the New City. We will do our best to train you and prepare you for this battle. You will have to work hard to get up to speed with all the other troops, but it will be well worth the effort." She nodded to Benedick, who had been waiting to brief them on the breakdown of their units. He gave her a solemn nod as if to acknowledge her weariness. It was a large step down from the constant worried looks he had given her only days ago.

She drifted out of the large tent, across the valley. Granen sat on a nearby fence, petting a worjamonga. Sarah approached him slowly.

"I hear some more cities just up and disappeared," the man said with a heavy gaze.

Sarah looked in the distance, as if finding some measure of solace in the red clay of the mountains. "I know." She leaned on the fence carefully, as if the weight of the world rested on her shoulders. "I think we'll be safe as long as we keep spirits up around here. Until it is time for a face-off."

"Your energy showin' any signs of returnin'?" the man asked carefully.

"Some." She looked down at her hand, which had almost completely healed. She never thought she would be so eager to cut it again. "Marlena's friends will be here tomorrow to start helping me with a way to open up a large enough portal to transport us all to New York."

"Does your... other self know about you yet?"

"No. She's... drifting. I don't think she's even looking for me." Sarah's Ego had completely fallen off her radar. Whenever she tried to focus on her, her mind started to become pulled by a dark shadow.

"Not to be a harbinger," Granen said with a sigh, "but there are a few people around the camp site that have drifted off into permanent sleep. We may be too late in a couple of days."

"I'm going to do something about that," she answered quietly. "I've been working on something. I should be ready this evening."

Granen smiled softly at her and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. The worjamonga ran off to the hills to be with his brethren.

"Sarah, you've really developed into a mighty fine woman," he said encouragingly. "Every day I see the strength you manage to deal with all this... with everything you've dealt with so far... hell, with everything Jareth told me you dealt with—" He shook his head in amazement. "Well, I just think you are a fine specimen of human being. If anyone has the resolve to put things right, it's you."

She smiled at him, moved by his words. "Thanks, Granen. That helps a lot."

He hugged her tightly, and they watched together as the herd of worjamonga ran to a new valley.

"Do you think he's alright?" she finally asked in a whisper.

Granen sighed deeply. "I hope so, Lass."

##

Later, Sarah and Granen went together into her tent to talk to some of the guinea pig generals about progress that had been made in their search for allies. So far, they had managed to find allies all over the world who had found some way to make it to their continent, through means both magical and mundane.

As they were talking, a scuffle began outside. Sarah rushed out of the tent to find a guinea pig and a mouse head to head in combat.

She ran between them without fear. Granen tried to stop her, but she wasn't listening to him.

"What's going on?!"

It was the pig named John fighting with a mouse named Billy. John threw his wild hair back. "The mice don't have a right to anything! They don't know their place! This one especially!" John tried to prod Billy with his spear, but Sarah grabbed it by the hilt and stopped the motion.

"The pigs are tyrants! They have made us into their mounts and slaves, but we're far smarter than them! At least we comb our hair!" Billy squeaked out angrily and gesticulated with a sword.

"That's enough of that!" Sarah shouted. "There will be no more slavery in this camp, as long as I am queen!"

"Who put you in charge anyways?" John chirped.

"You did!" Billy squeaked.

Albert sauntered over to the center of the ring that had formed around the group. "My friends," he said with a broad smile. "This be the time to prepare for our battle. Shouldn't be fighting ‘mongst ourselves with so much to do. Let me teach you how to fight in strength, against our enemies."

"And where did you come from, anyway?" John's wet nose was turning bright red.

"I come from New Guinea," Albert answered matter-of-factly.

"Guinea?" John's nose twitched excitedly. "Well then, we be brothers! Show us how it is you fight!"

Sarah sighed in relief.

##

Life in New York almost seemed halfway normal. Ashley, Brenda, and Ling had all gone back to their respective apartments, only visiting around five o'clock each day at Marlena's store, just as they did before the changeover. Gail went back to work at the studio with her band, where they all gossiped more about current events than they actually played music. Only she didn't go back to her apartment each night, but instead slept at Marlena's apartment, working with Sage to nurse Marlena back to health.

She watched many nights from the slit in the doorway of Marlena's room as the elf man stared at the comatose face of his one true love, his pained eyes searching for some hope for her improvement. Each day she came back to the store from her early rehearsals and looked through books with him, mixing herbs to heal their common friend.

They always seemed to fall on the topic of life Underground and the years Marlena passed Aboveground, after Sage lost her the many years ago.

"She was in the hospital, a case of amnesia, when I found her," Gail explained as she ground some leaves with a pumice stone. "I sensed something different about her, and knew it was my responsibility to take care of her." Her eyelids opened and closed slowly, dreamily. "I never suspected she was from the Underground, too."

"And... you all formed a coven? That quickly?" Sage was transfixed by Gail's patient explanation of the time that had passed—it was all he had until Marlena was awake to tell him herself.

"Marlena... just draws people to her," the woman mused with a smile, the dim candlelight falling on her brown skin softly. "We belong together because she is here with us. She drew Toby, and then Jareth." She looked down at her work to see her progress, then stared intently into Sage's expectant eyes. "She's a magnet."

Sage nodded and smiled. The surprise of being transported to the very home of his long lost love hadn't been half as intense as the boyish quietude that had slipped over Sage in the days that he had been watching over her. "That she is," he finally answered.

Gail chuckled and put the leaf-crushing aside to sip at her tea. "I think even Jareth was even a little taken by her. But she does have that affect on men."

Sage nodded soberly.

"Don't worry, he was a perfect gentleman," Gail corrected softly.

"Oh, of course," Sage grinned lopsidedly. "My friend has always had impeccable taste."

"You can say that again," Gail said with a big smile. "How did you meet Jareth?"

"We were friends as young boys," Sage said conclusively. "He doesn't remember, though."

"Really?" Gail was utterly intrigued. She bent low with interest.

"We're both very old, Jareth and I. Though I suspect he is at least a hundred years older than I." The elf smirked tiredly. "You wouldn't be able to tell it by his impetuousness."

"No, though I see great wisdom in Jareth, you seem wiser than him by a far stretch."

"It's all a matter of the choices you make," the elf said with a sigh. "Some people end up as the pawns of cruel fate."

"You seem to have handled your role as pawn better than most," Gail pointed out with a raised brow.

"Yes, but Jareth has been tried far more than anyone ever should be," he said with a deep sigh. "When I was very young, I divulged to him the location of the crystals that sent him on the journey to... well, to wherever he is right now."

"You act like you think you are to blame."

"I am. Partially. It is important to know when to keep secrets." His smile was tired, and it was late. "I'm going to look in on Marlena," he said quietly.

"Okay." Gail got up and stretched. "I should be heading to bed myself." She picked up a quilted blanket from where she had dropped it on the floor. "Tomorrow the others are heading off to Wisconsin to help Sarah."

"Aren't you going?"

"Nah. I want to make sure Marley pulls through this." She smiled at him reassuringly.

"You are a good friend," Sage answered pensively.

"We good friends have to stick it out to the end," she said, draping an arm over his shoulder as they stepped up the creaky steps to the second floor.

Gail watched Sage go into Marlena's bedroom, then stuck her head into one of the guest rooms where Toby was sleeping. She checked to make sure that the warding talisman for dark dreams was hanging over his door then kissed the boy on the forehead. Sir Didymus twitched his leg where he slept at the foot of the bed.

##

Sarah paced the throne room nervously, gesticulating wildly with one hand and holding a cell phone to her ear with the other. She laughed loudly, her voice shaking. "What does she think she's doing? She's crazy, declaring war on me!"

Pook was on the other end. "Sarah, think of it. You can crush her, and make an example for everyone."

"I can't crush her, you idiot!" she shouted into the receiver. "I can't do anything to her! It would destroy me!"

"I take it you have yet to find a way to separate yourself from her," the asexual Pook drawled.

"What a fine assumption," she spat.

"Have you asked Jareth yet?"

The question was met with silence.

"Why won't you talk to him?" Pook asked suspiciously. "You have him right there in your clutches. You know he must have found something out."

"It's not time, yet." Her eyes darted around the room at nonexistent shadows.

"It was time a week ago, Sarah," Pook shot back. "Do it today, or be prepared to hand it all over to Leah whenever she decides she is ready for war."

Sarah laughed at him. "She can't do anything to me."

"The fact that you think so makes me suspect your sanity is slowly inching away." Pook's voice was heavy, final.

She plopped onto her throne. She hated them all for being able to see through her. Pook, Kaleb, Jareth. But she had to put her pride aside if she was going to win. Beating her other half and keeping control of this world were too important. "You're right."

"I know I'm right," the fae being answered with a sharp tone. "Now go to your photo shoot."

Sarah turned the phone off and stared at Kaleb, who was coolly draped over the end of the chaise lounge. His leash was firmly attached to a bolt in the floor of throne's staircase. He was looking at her knowingly. She hated him all the more. "What are you thinking about?" she asked him with slitted eyes.

"About the many ways I am going to kill you when this all blows over," he said casually as he stared at the ceiling. His arm swung to and fro like a pendulum where it hung over the arm rest. "I'm trying to figure out a way I can bring you back to life each time so that I may kill you anew."

She rolled her eyes at him the way she used to do as a teenager. "You're such a drama queen!"

"I'm not going to make the obvious response to that," Kaleb said, analyzing his fingernails. "Maybe I won't tell you what I know, now."

Sarah gazed at him intently for a long moment. Her lazy eyelashes swung over her cheekbones. "Tell me." The corners of her mouth pulled up in that way of hers, a slow smile revealing large, perfect teeth, cutting graciously into her bottom lip. He didn't respond. "Tell me." She crawled over to him like a cat and brushed her nails against his cheek. "Tell me."

He looked at her across his fingers, precise. "Think it will work on me?"

"It did before."

"That was yesterday. You're such a self-absorbed bitch."

She slapped him, leaving a mark on his cheek. An invisible knife carved a smile across his face. "That's more like it." He put his fingers down. "Jareth is hiding the spell in his inside coat pocket. The one he's going to use to destroy you."

Her face was long, bitter. "How do you know?"

He spun around in his chair, his chains rattling with the motion. He pointed to the screens hanging from the ceiling. "Don't think you're the only one who can use this technology."

##

That night, the bonfire burned large and bright, orange flames licking the sky and lighting up the dust in a brilliant celebration of life. Most of Sarah's old friends were there, accompanied by her new friends, the guinea pigs and the mice. One of the pigs crotchéd Sarah a beautiful dress in miraculous time. Sarah performed tricks for the fascinated pigs, levitating mice, making beautiful displays of colorful dancing lights, drawing pictures in the flames.

It was at the highest moment of her happiness that evening that she faded. She had stepped away for a moment. She was looking at her feet, alone for a moment under a cypress tree. And then her foot started to disappear. In her overwhelming joy, she was being sucked into something else. It took all of her concentration to stop it, to keep her grip on reality.

"I still have things to do here," she reminded herself. "It's not time yet."

The next morning, Leah left to return to Los Angeles.

##

Kaleb stared out the large windows with a heavy pout, his eyes fixed on the enormous moons that were now almost permanently set in the sky. One was half-waning, the other half-waxing. The clock ticked loudly in the silence, echoing throughout the great hall of Sarah's throne room. The circumstances were not much different to what they would have been had he been enjoying the power Sarah now possessed. The only difference was that he was the one on the leash.

She had made him into her pet, taking him with her to social functions as her pretty boy face, the subtle symbol of her complete conquering of the world. It did not matter that no one knew who Kaleb was, it was enough that he knew.

The clothes were always fabulous, the food excellent, the company seductively sublime. But Kaleb dreamt of nothing other than the moment he would crush her and put her back into her place, and reap the spoils of her conquest.

The elevator chimed and a body emerged. Instead of footsteps there was an awkward repeated clacking against the marble floor. Kaleb didn't turn to see who it was, because he already knew.

"Don't you think it's a little odd that you are the one on the leash, and she hasn't even yet spoken to Jareth in all this time?" Claw walked around the base of the steps and up to eye level with his former master.

"I'm on the leash, no thanks to you," Kaleb snarled.

"I don't know," the bird said coolly as he looked out the window and its spectacular view of the warped city. "You may change your mind about that later."

Kaleb sat up in the chair and looked at the bird carefully. "What are you saying, Claw?"

Claw smirked at him and walked over to the clamp that held Kaleb's chain in the ground. He touched it with his beak, and a spark shot out.

Kaleb watched him circumspectly. "What's this?"

The bird walked away and back toward the elevator. "I'm head of security, you know."

Kaleb reached down and, with a little effort, was able to pull the clamp out of the ground. He looked over his shoulder at the retreating bird. "Why are you doing this?"

"The amethyst is driving her mad. It won't be long before she ruins everything." His voice echoed of the walls of the room. "Be careful how you use your freedom." He stepped into the elevator, and their eyes met. Kaleb was uncertain of how to handle the new development, and his eyes reflected the questions that were racing through his mind.

"She's gone for another hour," Claw said, pressing his beak to the button on the elevator. "What you want is on the thirteenth floor." The doors started to close before him. "I trust you'll know the right moment at which to make a move."

Just as the doors began to close, he added, "Oh yes, and I've also managed to undo some of the charm that Sarah had worked in order to hold back your powers. It's not much, but at least it's something."

The chain weighed heavily in Kaleb's hand. He looked down at it and smiled, shaking his head in awe. "Backstabbing bird. Don't you ever change."

Just as Claw left, a black raven formed out of a spot of shadow in the room and flew to Kaleb's shoulder. "I'm back, Sarah. Perhaps not with a vengeance, but trust me, vengeance will be involved."