The next day Sarah decided to explore the castle.  Sir Didymus and Hoggle looked at each other dubiously when she told them.

“Are you sure you want to do that, my lady?” Sir Didymus asked with a nervous swish of his red tail.

“Why not?  I don’t want to spend a whole year in my bedchamber,” she replied, choosing a midnight blue dress from the wardrobe.

“It’s just that… well, youse never knows what yer gonna find from day ter day,” Hoggle said awkwardly, not quite meeting her eyes.

She frowned down at him, her eyes narrowed.  “What aren’t you guys telling me?  What’s out there?” she asked, pointing to the door.

“We do not know, my lady.  That’s just it.  It changes.  Last time it was the Escher room – we’d never seen that before.  Who know what would be out there today?” Sir Didymus said kindly.

“And we wouldn’t wants yer to get hurt,” Hoggle added, patting her hand.  Ludo nodded, grunting in agreement and looking agitated.

Sarah recalled her earlier conversation with the Goblin King.  “I didn’t get hurt last time I was here,” Sarah said confidently.  “And I don’t think I will this time.”  Three pairs of worried eyes looked at her.  “I need to get dressed, okay?” Sarah said, holding up her dress for the day.

“Until later, my lady,” Sir Didymus said gallantly with a sweeping bow and left with Hoggle and Ludo following.

Sarah dressed quickly and left her room, giving her toffee coloured tabby cat a stroke before going.  He blinked his amber eyes at her and she smiled.  He still had that dumb, kitten look on his face.  She walked in the opposite direction to the dining room.  Faintly she could hear music as if from a long way off.  It sounded strange, as though the band was playing the music too slowly so it sounded distorted.

She followed the sound as best she could down long, stone passageways alleviated only by long, narrow windows and an occasional heavy wooden door.  The music was getting louder but was still oddly distorted.  Maybe the instruments weren’t tuned properly either, Sarah thought with a frown.

Finally she turned a corner and found herself in another long passageway but it was lit with a strange deep purple light that rolled over the floors and walls in slow, disturbing waves.  The light seemed to emanate from the walls themselves because Sarah could see no source for it.  Her walking slowed down as the strange music became louder.  Sarah grew apprehensive, not sure what to expect.

A few meters on the light changed slowly from purple to a painfully bright electric blue.  It stained her skin and made her look like a Hindu God.  A few paces on again it changed to a brilliant emerald green.  I’m in the Emerald City and off to meet the wizard, she thought inconsequentially.  A deep gold light followed which Sarah thought profoundly comforting and beautiful – an angel light, she thought.  It deepened gradually to a hideous bright orange that made Sarah think of bad retro 60s decorating.  The color suddenly drained out of the passageway completely and a stark, bright, painfully white light flooded it instead.  It almost blinded her.  She stumbled forward a few steps and found herself outside a massive wooden door.  The passages had finally come to an end and the music was loud.  It came from the other side of the door.

She put out a pale hand and touched the door.  With painful slowness it swung silently inward.  At first all Sarah could see were vague shapes moving through a red light so deep and intense it almost seemed to have physical substance.  Slowly her eyes adjusted and she realized the moving shapes were people.  The music was now very loud and still no more harmonious than when she’d first heard it.  It had a strange effect on Sarah’s mental state.  She felt a sickness of spirit, a hideous sinking feeling.  At the same time, she did not want to leave and she stepped into the room, quite determined to find out what these people were and why they were here.

Looking more closely, Sarah realized it was a masque ball but totally unlike the one she’d attended in her drugged peach episode.  This ball was not beautiful, for one thing.  It completely lacked the veneer of charm and beauty of the previous ball.  “Whose nightmare is this?”  Sarah wondered aloud.  A group of dancers passed close by and Sarah stared at their grotesque masks and costumes.  Funnily enough, she wasn’t afraid although the eeriness of the scene was un-nerving.  She just had a feeling of mixed disgust and fascination.

Against the far wall was an ebony grand-father clock.  Thirteen hours, Sarah noted.  All the clocks in the Labyrinth had thirteen hours.  A day was 26 hours long. 

It was close to thirteen o’clock and as she watched, the hour began to strike.  The musicians stopping playing mid-phrase and the dancers suddenly stood still.  Sarah understood why.  The peculiar musical chime of the clock increased Sarah’s horrifying sickness of mood to an almost unendurable pitch.  Sarah felt an iciness, a sickening of heart which she could find aught to alleviate.  She crouched, unable to move from her pit of dreary hopeless gloom.  She sank to the floor with her hands over her ears, trying to block out the chimes but it had somehow gotten into her blood and she couldn’t escape it.  Sarah seemed to sink further into this insufferable gloom and began to lose hope of reprieve when she looked up and noticed all the dancers were staring at her.  And that damned clock!  It would not stop! 

As the last chime sounded thirteen, Sarah felt a gloved hand clamp around her arm and she started violently to throw the person off.  She found herself staring into a pair of mis-matched eyes and suddenly, the macabre ballroom had disappeared and they were in the throne room. 

Sarah took a deep, shaking breath and to her relief – away from the chiming and music, the utter depression of soul that had afflicted her was quickly disappearing.  She simply stood, looking at him unable to speak.  Jareth stared back, his narrowed eyes watching her pale face carefully but without expression.  Finally she said, “What was that?”

“Your first question was better,” Jareth remarked bluntly.  “That is, whose nightmare was that?”  With a snap of his fingers they were in the dining room.  “It was hers,” Jareth said, pointing to one of the thousands of pictures on the wall.

Sarah glanced quickly at Jareth’s face and then looked at the picture of the woman.  She was beautiful.  Her hair was dark like Sarah’s but she had olive skin and fine, aristocratic features.

“Who was she?” Sarah asked.

“A Spanish Princess born around 1850AD.  Not that long ago really,” Jareth replied, thoughtfully.

“What kind of tortured mind did she have?” Sarah asked him incredulously, turning back to face him.

“A brilliant one but maybe too brilliant.  Maybe bordering a little on madness,” he replied flatly.

“That ball was certainly mad,” Sarah agreed.  She looked back at the beautiful face.  “How far did she get?”

“Nearly to the gates of the Goblin City but her peach dream defeated her.  Her own tortured imagination dreamed up something she couldn’t bear to live.  She went mad,” Jareth stated with a shrug.

Sarah turned back to him, fuming.  “Your silly magic drove her mad!” she accused coldly.

“She drove herself mad.  She didn’t need my help,” Jareth replied matter-of-factly.    In a second, they were back in the throne room.  Jareth went and slouched gracefully on his throne.

“If you hadn’t magicked up that nightmarish ball, she may have kept her sanity!” Sarah argued.

“Rubbish,” he said nonchalantly, swinging one slender, booted leg.  “Sooner or later something was going to tip her over the edge.  Besides, I never asked her to come here.  She wished herself away,” he retorted.

“You have the compassion of a rock,” Sarah said fiercely, glaring at him with her hands on her hips.

“You shouldn’t scowl, my dear.  It ruins your looks,” he commented conversationally.

“I don’t care you heartless, horrible person… er …Goblin King… er... whatever you are!” she yelled.

His eyes narrowed at this criticism.  “Have I ever been unkind to you?” he asked impatiently.

“Yes,” she replied frankly.

“When?” he drawled, eyebrows raised.

“Oh, let’s see.  Shall we start with the cleaners?  Or maybe shortening the time I had?  Umm.. the oubliette, perhaps?  Or how about nearly dumping me in the Bog of Eternal Stench?  Perhaps distracting me with the ballroom, not to mention Humongous at the city gates.  Or maybe the cannons I had fired at me in the city?  How about getting around the Escher room?” she listed sarcastically.

Jareth looked faintly surprised.  “But you needed challenges in order to be the heroine you wanted to be,” he remarked reasonably.

“Maybe.  But don’t tell me you’re kind because that’s garbage!” Sarah retorted.

Jareth looked offended.  He thought he was a reasonably nice person.  After all, noone ever got hurt.  Perhaps they went a trifle mad on occasion but how was that his fault?  Sarah made a noise of disgust and left the throne room.  Honestly, how was she going to stay in the same place with someone like that for the rest of her life?  Jareth watched her go with the vague feeling that maybe that didn’t go particularly well.