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 his way, leaving a baffled and speechless Isabelle in his wake.  "But the roses smell nice, that they do."
	Isabelle finally regained her senses and caught up to him.  "Hoggle, where are your parents?  How could you leave them at a time like this?"
	"Oh, you'll have to ask them where they gone... Left no evidence, did they, that they even lived, 'Cept poor, poor 'Oggle.  Yup, an' this, me dad's bourbon.  Could always count on this old friend, 'e could."
	"What are you talking about, Hoggle?" Isabelle demanded.  "Why would they leave?  Your father was in horrible condition.  Did someone do something to them?"
	He stopped and gave her a good stern look, as much as his drunkenness would allow.  "No, they're gone, for good.  Me dad's gone, now me mother.  She took herself with him to the grave.  Now there's just good ole 'Oggle, oh yes, 'Oggle's one to trudge on through the misery'e is.  Watch me trudge."  And turn around and continue his trudge he did.
	Isabelle grabbed his shoulders and cried, "Oh, Hoggle, I'm so sorry!  Come on, let's go sit..."
	Hoggle brushed her off.  "I's don' wanna sit nowheres.  I wanna crawl in a hole an watch bugs.  I wanna be alone."
	"I understand that Hoggle," Isabelle pleaded, "but you don't need to be alone at a time like this.  You need to be with your friends."
	"Who're yous to tell me what I need? Go away!"  He brushed her aside and continued on.
	Torn between letting him be alone and wanting to help, Isabelle stood stunned for a second.  She finally made the decision and ran in front of him.  After he tried to evade her halfheartedly, she crouched down and looked at him intensely.  "Hoggle," she said softly.
	In a matter of moments he had burst into tears.  She held him close, his tears drenching the shoulder of her dress.  After he had cried for some time, she took his hand.
	"Come Hoggle.  Sleep now, and tomorrow will take care of itself."  He merely nodded as she led him to his room.  "Get comfortable.  I'll be back in a moment."
	Isabelle made her way to the infirmary without trouble, and took some herbs from a jar.  She crushed them in a mortar, then made a cup of tea out of the herbs and other tea leaves.  Luckily, the infirmary constantly had a pot of boiling water over the fireplace, so it was a quick task.
	She quickly returned with the tea, to find Hoggle in his nightclothes, still shivering from having cried so hard.  She handed him the tea.  He took it without argument once he had climbed into his bed.  After a couple of sips of it, he fell straight to sleep.
	"That'll do it every time," she said with a slight smile.  She sat a few moments with the sleeping Hoggle and gazed upon him with great affection.  "Poor dear."  Reluctantly allowing herself to reacquaint herself with the current state of affairs in the castle, she finally got up.  She kissed the dwarf on the cheek before taking one last glance at him from the doorway.  "We'll all miss you Mr. And Mrs. Hiddlebury.  You raised a fine son."
	Having taken the room's key from Hoggle's bedside table, she locked the door behind her for the sake of precaution.  "Just wait, Hoggle, it will get better.  Slowly."  She pondered the thought, as if she knew firsthand. 
	"Very slowly...  But it will get better.  It has to, else there'd be nothing worthwhile in living."



Leah straightened her wig before going out into the somewhat mangled throne room.  Thankfully she and Vindar had found enough sane minions to take care of matters whilst they regained control on a diplomatic level.  She sauntered up to the throne and was greeted by a throng of loudly-mumbling creatures.
	"Excuse me," she said in a mild tone she thought Sarah would hold, "but I need your attention."  That sounded like her, right? she asked herself.
	The throng continued to chatter aimlessly, unaware of her presence.  The chaos had certainly stirred them all up. 
	"EVERYONE SHUT UP FOR GOD'S SAKE!" she screamed.  
Dead silence followed.
	"Thank you kindly," she added sweetly.  "Now that I have your attention, I need to make a few announcements.  First of all, I want to make it perfectly clear that we will not tolerate any further actions from the elves.  Maybe these guys are a little doped up on crow, but I don't give a damn.  Sorry guys, nothing against you, but until this is all over, I hate elves.  So elves go in the dungeon.  Got that?"
	Everyone nodded in understanding.
	"Very good.  I think I'm beginning to like this."  
	They looked confused by the last statement.
	Leah shook her head, saying, "Forget that last part.  Just keep looking interested.  Now, as I was saying...  The only way we're going to get control over things is to use magic.  Anyone interested in joining the efforts to calm down some of these kooky kids, talk to Vindar after I finish, and he'll show you what to do.  Everyone else has another equally fascinating, great, and life-fulfilling job to do.  I need the rest of you to pick corn.  Yes, you heard me correctly, corn is our new best friend.  Now, now, I don't want to hear a peep from you kids who didn't want to eat your corn.  It's corn or crazies, those are your choices.  I want to regain control over all of our domain, up to the edge of the Labyrinth, does everyone got that?  Don't take lip from no one.  They give you trouble, you get a little of Vindar's magic dust and blow it on them, like this..."  Taking some of the dust from her hand, she blew some into the face of a nearby human male.  He was knocked out instantly and fell down rather ungracefully.  "See?  Now he wasn't too smart, was he?  Gotta be a little quicker on your toes than this guy.  Someone take care of him please?"  
	Another human male complied, his expression of confusion over his queen's current flippancy being quite in accordance with the expressions of all the individuals in the throng.  
	"Alright, so everyone up and at'em.  I want control back by tomorrow evening!  We can't let that bastard Kaleb think he's got the one-up on us, no sir!  So go get'em tigers!" 
	Everyone hurried towards their duties with little excitement.
	"And you all get to sleep when we're done!" Leah added.
	A heartfelt excitement suddenly filled the room as they finished filtering out.
	Leah walked away from the throne, pulling her wig off without concern as to who might be watching.  Isabelle walked in somberly.  "Oh, good, there you are.  Vindar told me I'd find you here."
	"Hey.  How is Hoggle?"
	"Pretty bad.  His father did die this evening.  And I think his mother took her life too, from what I could interpret from Hoggle's rambling.  He was pretty drunk when I found him."
	"Oh heavens.  Why all this crap?"  Leah shook her head.  "Poor Hoggle.  Where is he?"
	"He's in his room sleeping.  I gave him a little Ulgher Root.  Knocked him right out.  I expect he'll sleep through the day tomorrow, or so I hope.  It won't put off the darkness for good, but sleep always helps in times like this.  And there's no way you can get to sleep on your own, I should know.  So many thoughts going through your head.... What you could've done differently, how you would have been better..."  She smiled wanly and stopped herself.  "Sorry, I'm ranting."
	"Not at all.  Sounds like you have some personal experiences rehashing themselves," Leah said with concern.
	"Yeah, I guess I do.  My mother died last year.  Jareth took me away from her about six years ago, or really, from my father.  Father beat me and my mother."
	"I know.  We were in your village right before Sarah became queen.  We could see what your father had done to your mother."  She put her hand on Isabelle's shoulder.  "I'm sorry, I haven't been around.  I didn't know your mother had passed away.  Didn't Sarah bring her to the kingdom to live with you?"
	"Yeah, right after you went Aboveground to live.  She was happy to be with me, but she was never her old self again.  I'm sure she died of heartbreak.  She hadn't had much kindness in life, and only trusted me, though I think she still blamed me a little bit for having left.  Or, rather, being taken away.  Like, in her mind, I should have come back.  But I couldn't.  How could I come back to that life?  She should have left.  She should have loved herself enough to do it."  A tear welled up in her eye.  "I still blame myself sometimes, I can't help it.  Like I should have stayed, should have stayed by her side through it all."
	Leah squeezed her shoulder.  "Oh, hun, I don't have to tell you this, because you already know it...  But you shouldn't let yourself feel any blame.  It was her choice to let her darkness eat her up inside."
	Isabelle nodded and wiped a tear.  "I'm sorry.  Just, Hoggle's parents' passing away kinda brings back all the feelings I had when my mother died."
	Leah pulled her close with an arm round the girl's shoulder and rubbed her head against Isabelle's affectionately.  "Don't you even worry about it.  Nothing to be sorry for.  Sometimes we just gotta renew our tears.  The sadness builds up.  Any excuse is a good one to let the tears go.  Then we can renew our vows to live life to its fullest."
	"Awfully sagely of you," Isabelle said with a tearful chuckle.
	Leah brushed it off with a slight laugh.  "Ah, I have my moments.  But now I'm afraid it's time to go back to ass-whooping Leah mode."
	"I'd expect nothing less," Isabelle answered, squeezing Leah's shoulder in return.
	"How's about we get some shut-eye?  I think Vindar's got things under control for the time being, and we have a very long day ahead of ourselves tomorrow.  The castle's fortified enough for now.  What do you say?"
	"I'm all for it," the girl answered.  "Let's stay in a room together, though, just in case?" she asked nervously.
	"Your room or mine?" Leah answered, laughing.  "Wait, that didn't sound right, did it?"





CHAPTER XXIV: Bewitched 


Jareth awoke the next morning with the most frightful headache.  He sat up in the bed and looked around, trying to dredge from his mind the remnants of a very disturbing dream.  Head couched in the large pillow of Marlena's design, he sleepily surveyed his surroundings.  Everything within the room had the handmade look of gypsy -- dyed fabrics, beadwork, and elegant hand-woven tapestry.  It made him homesick in a strange sort of way.  He longed for the gentle touch of a woman to all affairs of his life, and often fantasized about he and Sarah in a simple home, him chopping wood outside whilst she wove indoors.  He could see her face, gentle in the mote-filled air and sunshine, engaged in her task.  He knew Sarah was not a traditional woman, nor he a traditional man, and he truly did not wish them to be anything other than they were.  But a dream of a happy domestic life calmed his soul at times.  Times like this, when horrible nightmares haunted his mind in the depths of uneasy sleep.
	Toby lay on a makeshift bed on the floor, still comfortably snoozing.  One would assume that current events would make the boy too restless for a full night's sleep, but it was equally likely that he was exhausted by events and more than ready to drown his weariness in slumber.  Jareth pulled the covers off gently and sat on the edge of the bed, gazing at the boy with a heartfelt smile.  "I once wanted you to be my own son," he whispered.  "You're such a good lad.  I'd be your uncle any day."  Toby was still asleep, but a slight smile tugged at his lips with these words, as if he had subconsciously heard Jareth's compliment.  The man smiled widely at this, gently tucked the boy in and kissed his forehead before leaving the room.
	Once he arrived downstairs, he was greeted by a relatively busy room.  Five customers were browsing about Marlena's store, and she was chatting warmly with one of them, a brunette with wildly moused hair.  "Ah, Jareth!"  Marlena cried as she saw the man gingerly stepping down the stairs. Her face flushed at the site of him, as if she was secretly entranced by him and unable to hide her affection.  She had had dreams too, of a much more pleasant nature.  "Come over here, there's someone I'd like you to meet."
	He sauntered over, his white button-up tunic crinkled up and hanging over his loose pants.  He was still a little sleepy-eyed, and it made him look more boyish.  He yawned fitfully on his way to the counter, politely saying "excuse me" as he accidentally brushed another customer on the way over.  She looked up at him with slyly seductive eyes, as if thankful for the contact.  "Don't mention it," she whispered from scarlet-red lips.  He held her green eyes for a few moments before gradually pulling away and continuing towards his strangely lengthening journey towards the barely far counter.  For a second he thought she looked like Sarah.  It was at this point that he finally became cognizant of the fact that all the customers in the store were women, and that they were all giving him appreciative glances from the corner of their eyes.  They all possessed an element of the mysterious, yet they seemed to be worshiping his greater sense of the unknown.  As he looked away, their image flashed again in his mind, and they all became Sarah. Once he finally made it to the counter, he noticed that Marlena was chuckling at his obvious slavery to the captivating glances of the women in the store.  He was a little shaken by the images of Sarah in his imagination, but he brushed it off quickly.
	Marlena introduced him to the girl between chuckles.  "Jareth, I'd like you to meet Ashley.  She's a good friend."  Jareth began to shake her hand as he took her in.  She had short hair that seemed to have a mind of its own, willfully mutated into a branchy beast through the help of mousse and pomade.  She had small eyes that were carefully outlined with brown eyeliner and lids that were softly dusted in shades of gold and brown.  Even her dress was a ragtag conglomeration of various items that somehow came together into an aesthetic look.  Her voice was raspy and boyish, accentuating her wild rabbit attractiveness.  He was taken aback when, instead of shaking her hand, she began to examine his manicure.  "Nice nails.  Never see guys who take care of their hands like this.  You're not gay, are you?"
	He cleared his throat in surprise, and looked a bit uncomfortably at Marlena for a second before returning his gaze to Ashley.  "Er, I am fairly happy, but, no, I don't..." 
	Marlena interrupted him with a laugh.  "Of course not, Ashley, what kind of question is that?  I'm surprised he even knows what that means."
	"Well, I, um, keep in touch with current affairs of the, erm, area.  I'm not a total country bumpkin."  He smiled despite his unease, and turned back to Ashely.  "It's nice to meet you, Ashley."
	"Nice to meet ya too," she said buoyantly, releasing grasp of his hand.  "Especially since Marly's done nothin' but talk 'bout you all mornin'.  Like New York so far?  Lotsa Brits round here, can't say I've seen one quite like you, though."  She turned to look at Marlena and said, "Even his hair is perfect.  Damn, you were right, he is sexy."  She bent over to whisper, just so Jareth could still hear, "And you say he spent the night... Did you, -- you know... do it?"
	"Ashley!"  Marlena blushed red and playfully shoved her friend.  "Quit embarrassing me!"
	"Ah, you know I'm just playin' with ya," the girl said with a mischievous smile.   "Jareth's a cool guy, he's ok with it.  I'm sure he's lovin' the attention.  He looks like the kinda guy who would."  She winked at him.  "Here, I'll be right back, gotta find some Valerian root real quick."  She walked to the other side of the store and started whispering with one of the other women.  They occasionally glanced at Jareth and suppressed laughs.
	"Sorry about that," Marlena said.  "She's really funny, but sometimes I think she's lacking in social skills."  
	"No trouble, really.  She does seem like a fine girl," Jareth answered.  
	Suddenly a furry head popped up from behind the counter.  It was Sir Didymus.  "Sir, I understand our agreement of last eve, but may I please refrain from hiding?  I cannot do my Knightly duty if I must obscure myself from potential enemies."
	"Didymus!" Jareth exclaimed in a loud whisper.  "Please, return to the kitchen.  I cannot possibly convince you of how important it is that you stay hidden, can I?"
	Didymus worked his jaw about a bit and finally said, "Um, no."
	Jareth sighed in exasperation.
	Marlena smiled and said, "Didymus, you may roam about the store if you like."
	"What?" Jareth said.  "I don't understand why he could.  Won't it frighten your customers away?"
	"No," Marlena replied with a wry smile.  "They're all witches.  From the same coven.  Every one of them has a familiar.  They're used to talking animals."
	"Are you sure that I am Aboveground?" Jareth asked.
	"Certain.  You just found a more magical corner of the globe.  Welcome to Marlena's Shop."
	"How enchanting," Jareth said with sincere amazement.  Didymus hopped from behind the counter with excitement and began encircling the shop in a soldier-like fashion.  
	The women stopped their perusal of the store, and one of them shouted, "Marlena!  Where on earth did you get him?  He's fantastic!"
	"He doesn't belong to me," Marlena replied.  "He is the property of Jareth, my guest."
	Didymus stopped immediately and cleared his throat noisily before countering, "I belong to no one, dear ladies.  I am a knight of the highest order, and I live a life of danger and solitude, protect the weak and innocent, and am quite an expert at guarding bridges.  I answer to no one!"
	The women all chuckled warmly and another said, "Sir Didymus, you are a fine specimen, you are.  Thanks for protecting us."  Didymus saluted her and answered, "It is my pleasure, fair maiden."  He then went back to his patrol.
	Ashley came over to the counter and said in a low whisper, "He looks like a muppet!"
	"Be nice, Ashley," Marlena said.  "Don't let him hear you say things like that."
	"No, no, he's really cute."  She looked up to Jareth.  "You're just full of surprises, aren't you?  I've never seen a familiar quite like him."
	"Trust me, he's a creature of his own making.  I suppose, since you are of the sort who understand and appreciate magic, that it won't surprise you that I come from another land.  There are many creatures there who are as unique as the animals on your world, and as proud of their individuality as any human."
	"Wow."  Ashley looked stunned.  "Can I marry him, Marlena?  He's cute, he's into magic, and he's so totally British.  You brought him here just for me, didn't you?"
	"You can't marry Jareth, I'm afraid," Marlena answered.  "He's on a mission to save his true love from an evil sorcerer."
	Ashley propped her head up on the counter and stared at Jareth dreamily.  "How romantic."
	"Trust me, it's not as pleasant an experience as stories make it out to be," Jareth replied.
	"Well, we're gonna do whatever we can to help," Marlena answered.  "Come on, let me get some breakfast in you, and then Ashley will take you and Toby out on the town."
	"Thank you very kindly," Jareth answered.  "I am at your mercy."
	As he followed her into the kitchen, Ashley followed from the rear and gave his toosh a firm squeeze.  "You bet your bottom you are!"	
Instead of jumping at her goosing, Jareth kept walking calmly, a smirk on his face.  "Careful at how familiar you get with me, you might live to regret it."
Ashley laughed and said, "I knew you were the kind of guy who liked attention!"



Soon Jareth had finished his breakfast, and pushed away from the table with a satisfied sigh.  Ashley had left to finish her own duties in preparation for their day out, and Marlena had just stepped in from her maintenance of the shop.  "Was it good?" she asked as she picked up his empty plate.
	"It was fantastic.  Thank you for conjuring it up for me."
	She chuckled at his choice of words.  "You're a comedian, too.  Guess that means you're loosening up a bit."  She walked to the sink to wash the plate and glass.  Jareth leaned back in the chair, and was suddenly awash with the negative feelings his dreams had brought forth in him earlier that morning.  When Marlena finished her task of washing the dishes, she turned back around to see Jareth looking rather disturbed.
	"You okay?" she asked as she sat down.
	He furrowed his brow and let out a long sigh.  "Not really.  I had a terrible nightmare last night.  It seemed so real, almost prophetic.  I'm only remembering it in bits and pieces, but I think I've finally reconstructed it entirely."
	"If it feels prophetic, it probably is.  What was the dream about?"
	He scratched his chin a bit and looked about the room, as if it would help him piece things together.  "It's a bit random, as dreams can be, but I can reconstruct it a bit more like a story, or at least, the story I think it was trying to tell me.  Am I making any sense?"
	"Yes, I know what you mean.  How dreams don't always have a logical pattern, but they do have an innate meaning that gives them logic."
	"Yes, yes, that is what I mean."  He paused a moment to gather his thoughts.  "It was about Sarah.  She was standing before me in a clearing that I had once met her in, through a dream.  She was both like a tree and was a tree.  On her arms, or limbs, or whatever they were, sat two birds, one on each.  One was a white dove, and the other a black raven.  They were both singing music, intermingled and beautiful in their opposing natures, and the notes were floating toward her roots, feeding her and giving her life.  Then she was suddenly ripped in two...  The birds flew away from each other, toward each half of the tree, each flying about its half, help to regrow the tree of Sarah.  One side grew into an apple tree, with white blossoms, frail, floating to the ground.  The dove perched atop this tree.  Then, the raven changed the other half, where it grew into something gnarled and beautiful, bereft of foliage.  It perched upon this tree.  The trees were smaller, and were somehow both still Sarah, but not as large as when she had been one tree."
	"Wow, that is a very strange dream.  Maybe she is having a moral dilemma, and you are picking up on her emotions," Marlena offered.
	"I don't know, it was a very strong sense of separation.  There have been few times I have known Sarah to have any difficulty over a moral choice, she does have an innate sense of personal morality.  But there's more."  
	"Wait," Marlena said, pulling a handcarved box out of her pocket.  She opened it, and out drifted the smell of clove cigarettes.  "Join me for a cigarette?"
	"Yes, I think I will," he said, taking the cigarette from her and settling it on his lip.  Marlena pulled out a thin lighter and lit it for him.  
	"You've smoked before?" she said, when he did not appear to have any trouble sucking in the fragrant fumes of the cigarettes.  
	"No, but this is lovely," he said, looking appreciatively at the cigarette as he pulled it from his mouth.  "I've seen Aboveworlders smoke in the past, and it looks like such an elegant pastime.  I've always wanted to try it."
	"It's horrible for your health, but it does give one a sense of inner peace and elegance."  She caught herself suddenly staring at how sexy he looked while smoking, and forced herself out of her stupor.  "So, finish what you were saying about your dream?"
	"Yes, well, there is a second part to the story.  The apple tree seems to disappear into a haze, and the focus of the dream becomes the other half of Sarah, the twisted tree.  Suddenly I can see Aboveground and Underground as if they are two layers on a cake, from the side.  Underground is beneath, of course, and there is a silhouette of Sarah's kindom in the distance.  I can see the silhouette of New York above.  The tree is in the foreground of the layer that is my world.  The raven flies from the branch and comes to the top layer, to New York, and sits atop a tall building, as tall as a mountain, and begins to sing.  Soon it is glowing purple, casting a spell.  And the two layers that are Aboveground and Underground begin to mesh together.  And I get a strong sense of chaos and... I don't know, a fear of no control.  It becomes a muddled mass of colors, colors that don't go together, very jarring in nature.  I don't know what it all means, but it feels like something dangerous is coming my way."  
	"Damn, that is some dream," Marlena said, contemplating Jareth's words. 
	Jareth became even more morose.  "I shouldn't have come here.  I made a mistake by coming to Sarah in the first place, and endangering her.  Now I have endangered another world, and you."  He looked up at her, the dread in his eyes very real.
	"Now, you need to stop worrying so much about everyone else.  You don't have any control over this, or whatever is going to happen.  I'm sure your dream is symbolic somehow, perhaps that you are bringing elements of your world here by coming.  I can't see how that would be such a bad thing.  If anything, I bet that being here is a bit frightening, whether or not you want to admit that to yourself.  Maybe you have some frightening perceptions of New York, and that is affecting you on a deep level."
	"That all sounds very logical, and you have no idea how much I want to go along with your interpretation...  But I know something is going to happen, and soon."
	"Well, we'll just deal with it when it gets here.  Why don't you go get Toby and get ready for a day out with Ashley?  I've put together a couple of outfits for you boys, so you can grab a quick shower and freshen up.  I'll get Ashley to take you guys to some fun places, to loosen you up, maybe she could get you a beer or something.  Have a little fun.  Might as well, especially if you're in store for an unpleasant time, right?"
	"Ah, you have no idea what a breath of fresh air you are, Marlena," he said as he rose from his chair and grasped her hand gratefully.  He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek before leaving the kitchen.
	She rubbed her hand against her face gently, as if to preserve the sensation.  Smiling, she said to herself, "Can't remember how long ago it was I was kissed on the cheek by such a gentleman..."



Jareth entered the storefront again in order to get to the staircase, and found Toby in the middle of a coven of lovely witches.  They were all laughing as the boy took a crystal sphere in his hand and began to make it float.  They clapped at his success.
	Jareth was taken aback by the sight.  It was as if he were looking upon a younger version of himself.  He finally found his voice.  "That was... very good Toby."
	"Ah, Jareth!" a blond witch exclaimed.  "He's doing very well.  This boy has the potential to be a real sorcerer.  He's a fast learner!"
	"Thank goodness for that...  I'm going to need his help in casting a very large spell, that is, if we ever get back to my world."
	One of the women ruffled Toby's hair, and he lost his concentration and dropped the sphere.  He was beaming.  "Look at what I did!  I can't believe I did it!"  He looked up at Jareth and smiled, as he would if he were seeking approval from a father.  Jareth smiled warmly in return.  "You are certainly a talented boy.  Are these lovely ladies teaching you some magic?"
	"Yes, they've taught me lots of tricks, how to make things float, and how to pick things up with my mind.  It's so cool!"
	Jareth laughed warmly.  "Think you can learn some big spells?"
	"If they teach me," he said, looking hopeful.
	"We'll help you any way we can," the blond-headed witch offered.  "We can come back tomorrow and teach you some more stuff."
	"That would be splendid," Jareth replied.  "Your help would be very much appreciated."  He bent down and picked Toby up and said, "Now it's time to get ready to go out on the town with the arse-pincher, lad.  I think we both need to bathe.  We wouldn't want to offend her nose."
	The women chuckled at his description of Ashley.  One of them said, "She got ya, huh?"
	"Yes, but the laugh will soon be on her," Jareth said, winking his eye.  With that, he took the boy upstairs in preparation for a long, and probably very amusing, day.
	Once he left, the blond-headed woman said, "Damn, he's so sexy!  Let's find this Sarah girl ourselves and get rid of her!"
	Another answered, "Don't say things like that, Brenda.  It would be cruel.  Can't you see how in love with her he is?"
	"Yeah," Brenda answered, blowing a blond strand from her face.  "It's cute."





CHAPTER XXV: Actress 


Sarah had returned to her room within Kaleb's castle and was waiting expectantly for him to arrive.  He had visited her twice prior, but she had feigned sleep in hopes that he would not bother her, thus allowing her time to think things through a bit more.  The ruse had worked, and he merely thought she was recovering from the powerful effects of his spell.
	She knew he was due any minute now.  And, as if right on cue, she could suddenly hear the heels of his black knee high boots click-clacking in the stone halls outside of her room, not too fast, not to slow, just right for a man who wants to put on a show of controlled indifference.  However, Sarah was fairly certain that he was being eaten away inside with anxiety.  He had plans to fulfill, and, for some reason, he needed her subservience to complete them.
	A strong realization had come to Sarah during her false slumber.  That Kaleb had been far more powerful when he held the spirit of Jareth in tow, as Jareth was vice versa.  There was a certain devious dexterity that they possessed in each other's "presence" that neither had without.  Some men were stronger when they were at their most conniving and evil, while others were best at their most considerate and good.  However, this was not true for Kaleb, who had withdrawn from Jareth for the mere purpose of being free to fulfill his darkest desires.  Together they had been torn between two extremes, greater in cunning and will whilst under the yoke of inner struggle.  Sarah was not sure if it was the same for herself...  No matter how dark her current self had become, she knew she was far less a fool than she had been before, and she must admit, even to herself, that it was likely that the fate that had befallen Kaleb could be her own.  But, somehow, she knew that her willingness to consider her own weakness was a strength in itself, and would keep her prepared for the possibility that her unbalanced state would end up causing her to falter.
	There was something very simple about Kaleb's desire for power, too easy, too predictable.  It was as if he were merely playing out the expected role of a villain, almost as a way to pass the time, like how gods play with the lives of men, and toss the game aside when it ceases to interest them.  There was no true love of a woman at stake; this she knew because she had easily deduced that the only feeling Kaleb held for her was mere lust.  Power was to be gained, but it was power without an apparent purpose.  He did not seem to wish vengeance on Jareth, other than to put him to shame by forcing the world the man lived in and once held power over to kneel before him.  She also noticed that the creatures that were warring in the Underground were not falling prey to death or heavy injury, despite the hate-inducing spell of the crows, and despite their constant fighting.  He was obviously trying to drag out their pain, but to what end?
	Yes, that was the only question of value amongst all the questions Sarah had devised, and it was the only one that eluded her.  Before she could take control over all that Kaleb seemed to have gained in his maniacal efforts for power, Sarah had to find the answer to this question.  She also had to figure out how she was going to get out of there, and to her final destination of New York, and how she was going to gain the control there that she desired.
	She ceased her aimless thoughts and held a pose in preparation for Kaleb's arrival.  No key turned in the lock to announce his entering; he had sealed the door with magic, and it was with magic that he quietly opened it.
	Sarah awaited him in a very lacey and sensual ensemble that fluctuated from part to part between dress and nightgown.  Even Kaleb couldn't deny the shock of this transformation, and allowed a raising of an eyebrow to escape across his lean countenance.  He smiled slyly.  "Quite a difference.  And I thought it would take me at least a day to seduce you."
	"You've seduced no one, Kaleb.  It is I who am seducing you.  However, like any woman, I want to know what I will get out of my willingness to couple with you.  So, be a good boy and show me your plans before you touch the merchandise."
	"And so forward, too.  Perhaps I created a woman who is a little too much for me."  He circled her seductively and took the package in. 
	Sarah was suddenly reminded of her encounter with Jareth in his castle four years ago, when he had gazed upon her in the same fashion whilst she was in a nightgown of far less intent built into its design.  It made her wonder if it had been Jareth or Kaleb in control at that moment? Or a combination of both?
	"Perhaps I am too much for you," she whispered as she leaned in, a mere inch away from his own face.  "But, you will do good to remember that you did not create me.  Only opened Pandora's box."
	He breathed her in, and dared to close the gap between them by another half inch.  "Mmmm.  Pandora.  One of my very favorite women."
	Sarah smiled, but inside she was very calculated, and only slightly interested in having a sexual encounter with this man.  She had always suspected that it was her darker side that had always made her so keen on slightly evil men, but now that it was the dark side of her that put her in control of the situation, she found herself feeling very cool towards this man, as if he was not good enough to partake in her talents.  However, she could use those talents to gain that which she desired.  And, if anything turned her on right now, it was the very fact that she was in control of the situation, and that he had no power over her.  The dominatrix has awakened, she mused in her mind, as if she was suddenly able to label the ephemeral state that had taken her over with such ferocity.  
	It had never been that she wanted to be controlled and manipulated by a man of darkness.  It was, on a much deeper level, that she was the one who wanted to control him.
	"So, where do we begin, my queen?" Kaleb said, walking round behind her and brushing his fingers against her shoulders.
	"Take me to your magic chamber and explain what it is that you really want of me," Sarah replied, "aside from that which I can already guess."
	"Very well," Kaleb said, holding her seductive gaze as he opened his left arm indicating for her to go ahead of him.  "After you."
	She did as bidden and went ahead of him.  As he closed the door behind them, he could hear her say from several feet away down the hall, "I am not your queen yet."
	He smiled knowingly, as if he understood the game she was playing, and did not think she was going to win.
	They walked down the dark halls of the castle, Sarah several feet ahead of Kaleb.  She occasionally looked over her shoulder to see if he had any guidance to offer.  Finally he nodded towards a wall, where she stopped in expectation.  He did nothing to cast his spell, other than think the right thoughts, and the wall dissipated into a long hallway leading to an intricately ornamented doorway.  Sarah walked ahead yet again, and turned the knob to enter.  She was greeted by the same aviary that she had spied on Kaleb in earlier.  Sunlight peeked in through small openings in the walls, just big enough for birds to fly in and out of.
	Sarah turned around halfway and gave Kaleb a very faint grin before turning back around and walking knowingly towards the scrying device in the center of the room. She waved her hand over it and brought forth various images from the Underground, and was greeted by a very weary land.  The fighting had all but stopped, as many of the creatures recuperated in an almost comatose slumber that had obviously taken unwilling hold of them in the midst of their hate-filled battles.
	"I don't know exactly what you have in mind, but this isn't going to keep them down for long.  What you hope to gain from it, I have no idea," she commented as she encircled the device.
	He approached slowly and peered at her from eyes enshrouded by feathery black hair.  "What do you know about acquiring power," he remarked quietly, adding almost as an afterthought, "if you don't mind me asking?"
	Sarah smiled inside.  His very words indicated that he was underestimating her, and that was exactly what she wanted.  However, he was also testing her, just to make sure he wasn't wrong.
	She faintly touched the surface of the device and replied, "I was the queen of Sunset City for four years, if you recall.  I did not need to acquire power, nor was it my desire to do so.  But, I did hold some measure of power due to my position and political skills.  Though it may not be the level of power you seek, it was power that I held, and not too little an amount."
	"That is true," he agreed.  "And perhaps that is why I desire you.  Because I know that together we may hold a great deal of power, and use our combined skills to take control over the Underground."
	She knew he was lying.  "I see," was all she said in response.  But she knew very well that he wasn't the type to share power.  His unwilling coexistence with Jareth was very strong proof of that fact.  He only wanted her as another toy, and perhaps to mold her into a proper "ambassador" to his little kingdom of terror.  She could be his ultimate dark raven, making the dark call to announce the coming of her deathly lord.  And that she could be, but then, she was suddenly in a mood for her own singular dominance, and did not truly wish to share her spoils, either.
	"So, what is our power worth, then?" she asked, eyeing him coolly.  "Are we merely torturing for the sake of torture, watching the creatures here suffer for the mere joy of watching others crumble under our yoke, or do we have a greater purpose in hand?"
	"I would be a rather dull villain if that was all I had in store," he mused with a half smile.  "You hurt me by suggesting such a thing."  He grabbed her hand and pulled her close, smelling the hair close to her neck with a dark grace only a villain could possess, almost as if he was trying to prove the lengths of his villainy through a very simple act.  "No, I have much more planned.  I wish to weaken the kingdoms, and, when they are at their weakest, I will demand their pledge.  Then I can be king all throughout the Underground.  Perhaps some will go against me.  I will use greater force to gain control over them, if need be.  The crows are the first phase of my degradation of the kingdoms.  Hopefully, for their sake, I will not have to go to my second phase."
	Sarah pushed his face away from her neck, gently in motion, but forcefully in manner.  Wryly she slipped out from his grasp and idly walked through the labyrinthine trees and shrubbery of the atrium.  "Sounds like a very ambitious plan.  And, now that you have stolen the third part of the Amethyst from my boudoir, you have the power necessary to accomplish all of your plans."  She leaned lazily against a tree and gazed up into the depths of the foliage to see it filled with sleepy-eyed ravens.  She looked back at Kaleb, who had followed her throughout the atrium at a careful distance and easy pace.  "So, what is your second phase?"
	"I will extend the boundaries of the Mist of Dreams," he replied with certainty.  "My castle stands squarely at the center of the Mists.  That is why no one has found me all these years.  Once I extend the boundaries, those caught within the Mists will be lost forever."  He began to weave in and out of the nearby grove of trees, speaking as he went.  "You may or may not know this, but the peoples of the Underground hold a very real fear of the Mists.  Do you know why?"
	Sarah cocked her head to the side, shaking it gently.  "No."
	"It's quite a lovely place.  Governed entirely by the faery world, actually, those fae tied least to this world, or any world for that matter.  It is said that the dark faeries have control over it, and that they possess nothing like our common idea of morality.  Their rules are without bounds, their bounds without ends, and their conception of reality without solidity.  They are transcendental creatures with no concern towards the physical creatures of this world."
	"I have had many dealings with faery in this world, and I haven't seen any of the qualities you describe.  Many of them are very helpful and kind, and, though they are often mischievous and difficult to understand, they have never been outwardly harmful.  Or even completely detached."
	"Ah, these are the faeries that have chosen to be a part of this world, and have drifted from the faery ways.  Those that govern the Mists are stolidly attached to the rules of the fae.  Which is why this is such a dangerous place for any mortal.  In the Mists, one is likely to lose control to their dreams and emotions.  Many people are destroyed by the darkness inside of themselves.  As no one returns from the Mists, everyone assumes there are evil fae-created monsters here to devour them.  But it is far from the truth.  If one travels in the Mists long enough, if they are not killed through a confrontation of their fears, then they are obviously strong enough to overcome their fears.  But this is not the point at which they have defeated the Mists.  For their dreams of happiness can consume them as well, and then they are so caught up in the charade that they never come to realize that they are not actually in the physical world that is truly their home.  So they starve to death."
	"Sounds like a very interesting place," Sarah replied, dually chilled and entranced by the notion.
	"It is indeed my favorite place.  It is the essence of what the Underground truly is.  It is a shrine, the purest place of magic here."
	Sarah wanted to ask what he meant by his last remark, but she knew she would reveal her cunning too much if she did.  "So, you built your castle in the middle of the Mists," she said instead.  "That way no one will ever get in... or get out." She smiled slyly at this last statement.
	He smiled in return, understanding the insinuation.  "Precisely."
	"And you did not get lost in the Mists?" she asked. 
	"No, I am a shadow, part of the same magic that is the Mists.  I understand the ways of the faery.  I have no dreams for happiness, and I have no fears."
	She doubted this last part.  Though she could imagine him twisted enough to have no hope for happiness, even she could not claim that she was without fear.  And, no matter how long he had lived, or how much power he possessed, he was still of the same matter as her own shadow, Leah, and she knew for a fact that this difference in origin from humans did not give him any greater powers, or automatically make him immune to fear.
	"You are powerful," she complimented, coming closer to him.  "I am glad you found me and changed me.  I would have had no hope of destroying you, and I would have been forced to suffer as everyone else."
	"Ah," he said, reaching his hand around her waist.  "Your flattery will get you nowhere.  You think you may be fooling me with such talk, but I'm not taken in."  He bent closer and kissed her lightly, seductively.
	And even then, she knew that he was still lying.  He was taken in by every word.
	She returned his kiss, with greater ferocity.  "Perhaps," she replied after she had pulled away.  "You will never really know exactly how powerful I am now that you have changed me," she taunted.  "But then, isn't that part of the excitement?"  She bent close to his ear, whispering, "And isn't that exactly why you did it?"
	He gazed at her intensely, as if he had carved the perfect woman out of stone and was amazed to see her come to life.  "You are stunning," he said, kissing her neck with a sudden fever.
	It's too easy, she thought as he pulled his fingers through her hair.  Perhaps later I will have more of a challenge.  Then again, it has been more than four years since I last made love to a man...
	With that thought, she devoted herself to the task at hand with a complete devotion.  
And he gave her no cause to regret her decision.




CHAPTER XXVI: Lost Love 


Sage paced the room slowly, Benedick sitting in a plush chair made of leather, watching him silently the way cats are wont to do.  Sage had actually been pacing the room for almost an hour, only breaking the silence occasionally with mumblings.  He had deemed that it was time to concentrate on the problems at hand, and come upon solutions.  The cat was, for once, too tired to really say much of anything, so he reverted to an old habit that he usually only did in private, and began to clean himself.  Steadily he licked his paw and rubbed it against the back of his ears, only looking up occasionally to look at Sage from slitted eyes.  Sometimes he shook his head, amazed at the elf's ability to pace for so long.  He could swear Sage had rubbed a visible hole in the floor.
	Finally, Benedick said something.  "This must be the place that you used to pace before you were kicked out, eh?"
	Sage nodded absentmindedly.  "Actually, yes."  He did not turn his gaze from the wearing carpet.  Benedick took a closer look at the rug, and realized that he had not been imagining the worn-down path.  "I see now."
	"It's quite soothing.  I haven't done it for some time."
	The silence took hold again, and Benedick went back to cleaning whilst Sage continued to pace.  Until the elf abruptly stopped and broke the silence.
	"That's it."
	"What's it?" Benedick asked, pausing in his cleaning with his paw awkwardly held behind his ear.
	"The Mists of Dreams."
	"What about them? Other than the fact that they're scarier than my mother?"
	"That's where Kaleb's hiding.  That's the only place he could have gone that we would not have seen hide or tail of him in four years."  Sage finally plopped down in a chair next to Benedick.  The cat put an end to his routine, and put his paw on the arm rest.  Then he thought better of it, licked the paw, and brushed a stray piece of fur back into its proper place on his handsome brow.  Finally he was satisfied.  
	"Not possible.  He'd die from the journey."
	"Not necessarily," Sage mused.  "He may have powerful enough mental control to get through unscathed."
	"Aren't there big scary gits living in the Mists?" Benedick asked.  "Big scary gits made through the nightmares of the evil faeries?"
	"Oh, nonsense," Sage replied.  "That's all myth.  And evil faeries don't live in the mists.  Really, faeries are neither evil nor good.  They carry out certain tasks, and we define them as evil or good."
	"Now, I don't know about that," Benedick said.  "I had plenty of faeries bite me, and plenty to play some very nasty tricks on me.  I have one hairball faery named Mittens who keeps following me around and cursing me with some nasty hairballs."
	"Ah, yes, but you just happen not to like hairballs.  But it is merely the faery's job to create hairballs, nothing more.  It's not personal."
	"And when he giggles maniacally after he's made one manifest, then he's not showing pure evil joy over his ability to make my life miserable?" Benedick argued.
	"Of course not.  He's just getting joy out of his work."
	Benedick shook his head.  "You're nuts."
	"No, really.  Believe it or not, faeries are one of the highest beings of magic in our land.  Some have gained more individual qualities by living about physical beings.  For instance, there is a band of earth faeries called Banter Sprites who live in the forest of the Fire Gang.  They chose to be around them and experience bits and pieces of the Fiery way of life.  Now they've become regular party animals, and think quite as earnestly as the Fieries do that everyone's head is removable, and that it MUST be removed in order for anyone to have a good time, or, for that matter, a fulfilling life.  But, faeries who are more separated from physical existence are completely amoral, meaning that they are entirely without morals, good or bad.  They are a more transcendental type of faery, and they have greater concerns than whether or not your buttered toast should fall buttered side up or down, or if you should suddenly have a horrible accident to have your head removed so that your life can be truly fulfilled.  There is only one main purpose to the tasks they perform."
	"And what is that?" Benedick said, obviously not believing a bit of what Sage was telling him, no matter how interested he was in what the elf had to say.
	"To bring forth life-altering challenges."
	Benedick didn't seem convinced, and looked at him in that way cats do when they think you are full of rubbish.
	"Think about it...  The Mist of Dreams is actually a place where one's fears are made manifest.  If you go into the Mists with the idea that you are going to encounter something horrible that you will have no ability to face, then your fears will consume you.  However, if you go into the Mists knowing that you will be facing one of your own demons, then you can be more resolute that you are going to overcome that fear.  You could be consumed by the fear and die in the Mists, or you could come out a better individual, stronger for conquering your fear. And, anyways, what kind of life is one that is eaten away by a constant fear?"
	 Benedick straightened his vest and replied, "Ah, that is something I will agree with.  Though I still think the Mists are a horrible place, and I'm glad we're not going there."
	Sage looked at him strangely.  "Ah..."
	Benedick looked up suddenly.  "No, don't say it."
	"Ok, I won't, but you know what I want to say.  Or rather, wish I didn't have to say."
	"No, no, no!"  Benedick rose from his chair and began the pacing anew on Sage's behalf.  "We are not going in there," he said with a gesticulating paw.
	"But... Well, but you know what I am going to say."
	Benedick crossed his arms and looked like a tantrum-throwing kitten.  "Oh, shut up."  He plopped back down into the chair and sighed.  "I know, I know, we have to if we're going to get Sarah back and destroy Kaleb."
	Sage sighed too and nodded his head.  "So, I'd say that we all had a few counseling sessions before we go to... well... let out our inner demons."
	"Let's not and say we did," Benedick answered.
	Sage looked at him carefully.  Benedick returned his gaze.  They nodded and spoke in unison.
	"Right.  Let's not."
	Benedick spoke next.  "That could get really scary."
	"Don't want to think about it," Sage answered.
	They both lapsed into silence once again.  Sage, in particular, knew he had some demons to overcome, and he didn't relish having to face them in the Mists.  Sarah and the others had always seen him as indiscriminately calm and without worry.  And, it was indeed true, Sage did have a stronger grasp on himself than most beings, even of his age.  However, there was a dark moment lurking in his past that even he had not overcome, and he knew instantly that it would be the main subject of his experience within the Mists.  Yet, he did know also that he would be the better for having to face it, so he sighed resolutely, awaiting the moment with terror for having to face this oft-avoided event in his life, while also feeling a deep relief for having a chance to overcome it.
	"You're thinking about it, aren't you?" Benedick asked.  "You know, what you're going to have to face in the Mists?"
	Sage gave him a wan smile and looked at the cat from the corner of his eye.  "Very perceptive."
	"Would you like to share?" Benedick asked.  "A burden's better on two shoulders."
	"That sounds like something I would say," Sage responded with a chuckle.  "Very well, but only if you tell me your story too."
	"I shall." Benedick said with a solemn nod.  "I'm all ears."
	Sage rose and poured a glass of wine from a decanter sitting on a desk nearby.  He handed it to Benedick, then poured himself one.  In a very uncharacteristic fashion, the elf downed the whole glass before talking.
	"It's about something that happened to me long ago.  Actually, it is the event that led up to my exile from Ulmar, the Elfin Kingdom."  He looked away dreamily, as if replaying the events in his mind as he spoke them.  "I was the old king's sorcerer, Eberon's father.  He was a good king, a very good king.  There was a time when it seemed a majority of the kings and queens of the various kingdoms in the Underground were of a very sound judgment.  This was that time.  Everything seemed right with the world, except for a few details, perhaps.  But I had a premonition that the peace would fail soon.  I was correct.
	"The King came down with a very strange illness of faery origin, one that could only have been brought upon him by one of our kind, because only elves know of this curse, and faeries are not able to inflict this illness on other beings.  The King died within days, and his son took the throne.  I had been charged with teaching the boy all I knew, but he was impatient, unwilling to wait for knowledge, much like another apprentice I had had years before.  I was beginning to break new ground with the boy, or so I thought, right before his father died.  I only needed a couple more years to breed his immaturity away, but, alas, my time ran out.  It was a great loss for me, for I knew how Eberon would be as a king, and, as king, I had no control over him.  Also, his father had been one of my closest friends, the closest I had had in years.  I was in great mourning.  I knew Eberon wished to be rid of me, but he must keep me in order to keep face with the kingdom.  So he kept me at his side, but was very cold to me, and gave me little opportunity to assist.  His father had bid me look after him, and I did my best to intervene when times were desperate, but he often destroyed all of my efforts to improve upon the conditions in the kingdom.
	"It was a very dark time in Ulmar, and a mere couple of years had bred a great deal of distrust in the kingdom, especially towards outsiders.  He wanted the elves to rule all, and therefore he started false stories of wrongs done by other races, to elves, and to races other than their own.  Elves have always, in general, been prone to a bit of self-righteousness and snobbery, and he eagerly fed into this sentiment.  And it couldn't have been the worst time for me."
	Sage sighed, seemingly saddened by what lie ahead in his tale.  "It was a beautiful spring afternoon in the woods, and I was attempting to wile away my increasingly wasteful time by familiarizing myself with the forests outside of the castle.  And then I saw her, the most beautiful human woman I had ever laid eyes upon.  Her hair was a vibrant red, and her eyes the richest green.  She was truly mere inches away from being an elf, yet, the human in her made her far more lovely than any elf I had ever come across.  She was gathering herbs, and we soon began to talk.  I was instantly in love with her.  She was a witch, and lived with a coven not far from the kingdom, out in the forest.  I began to visit her frequently, but, though we wished to, we could not wed.  Nor did marriage truly matter to us, for we were creatures of love, not of ritual.  Well, being a witch, she was in practice a creature of ritual, but those sort of things do not truly matter where love is concerned.  But I digress.
	"Eberon found out.  And he used it to destroy me.  Once he found her, he brought her to the castle and told the city that I had been fraternizing with a human witch and had been making treasonous plans with her.  And, Mother Land, if I'd know why, they believed him.  He called my new apprentice forth to cast a spell of exile upon her, a spell that most often placed the victim into a state of limbo, where their body would surely perish.  I don't know what truly became of her, and I loathe to think on it.  Then he exiled me to the forest.  Some of my closest companions followed, and that's how I started my tribe.  It wasn't too harsh a punishment, as tribes of nomad elves are known to wander the lands.  So I was not completely separated from my people.  And, the tribes are much softer in nature, and closer to the land.  They hold very few of the seeds of distrust that elves in the city tend to have.
	"Thank the land that they were so kind and honest, for no one until this day, other than my tribe, and now you, has found out that Vindar was the son that my love and I had before Eberon was able to kill her.  Had he known, he would have surely exiled my son with her.  Now he thinks that Vindar is merely the child of a love affair with another elfin wife, and it serves to protect Vindar.  But, I have not loved another woman since Marlena.  She owns my lifeblood, and always shall, until we are together again in the mists beyond this life."
	Benedick blinked in awe.  He seemed totally transfixed by Sage's story.  "Wow.  I had no idea...  I never really knew much about why you and Eberon were at each other's throats, nor thought about how it was you ended up in the forests.  So that explains your excellent skills as Sarah's advisor. And Vindar..."  He drifted off, shaking his head in amazement.  "Who knows, Sage.  Maybe you will find your love again someday.  There is a great deal of magic in this world, and stranger things have happened."
	"Well, stranger things have indeed happened, my friend, and I do hope that you are right.  But it happened several upon several years ago, and I have not yet let go of her.  I will never have another woman, but, yet, I must let go to let my heart move on.  And that is what I fear most that I will have to face in the Mists."  He poured another glass and looked at Benedick.  "Now, friend, you must tell me your fear."
	Benedick shrugged, looking a bit sheepish.  "It's not nearly so noble as yours."
	"I'm sure you make little of something that is quite difficult.  Tell me."
	He shrugged again, as if he knew Sage would be greatly disappointed in his tale. "I'm just deathly afraid of water.  Hate the stuff.  I can drink it, but mother help me if I have to dip a paw in it..."
	Sage laughed so hard he spilled wine all over the desk.  It was a laugh he greatly needed, especially after the dredging of difficult memories.
	"You are too much for me, dear Benedick.  Too much."





CHAPTER XXVII: Discoveries 


It was a new morning.  Vindar rose from his bed and yawned fitfully, having slept well and ready to tackle the day.  He hopped up out of bed and quickly got dressed, sprinkling some tree musk on his neck before throwing the door open and sauntering down the hall.
	This is how Vindar started every day, whether he was sure it was going to be a good day or not.  But it was looking a bit on the up side.  As he passed a row of openings down a covered catwalk connecting two buildings, the sun shone through the windows, a little hopeful in its ascent.  He whistled as was his custom, and quickly came upon the floating figure of Isabelle.  He slyly made his way toward her, startling her as he grabbed her about the waist and swung her down the catwalk.  Once she figured out who it was, she laughed, and, for once, went along with his playful lovers games.  "Vindar, you nearly scared my head right off my shoulders!"
	"Good, then we can have a proper Fiery dance."  He took one of her hands and began to waltz her into the other building.  "Let's go find out how things are going with the recovery process, shall we?" he said as they made their way toward the throne room.  Isabelle giggled the whole way there.
	Once they made it into the room, they saw that Leah was already there speaking with people and creatures alike on how things were going.  Whoever she was speaking to left, and they approached to get the news.
	"How goes it?" Vindar asked Leah while he went to hold Isabelle's hand.  Isabelle bit her lip and seemed to think of pulling her hand away, none too comfortable with a public display of emotion, yet she seemed to think better of it and gave way to his romance. 
	"Surprisingly good," Leah answered, making obvious note of their hand-holding and winking at Vindar.  "I think the corn worked...  The crows dug right in, and not too many hours later, everyone apparently went back to normal.  So many of the citizens felt bad about their behavior, that they went to the task of trying to fix all the damage that had been done due to the spell.  We've dispatched citizens all throughout the Labyrinth to make repairs.  It seems quiet so far.  We're even able to release those we had to put in the dungeons."
	"That's wonderful news," Vindar exclaimed.  "What about my people?  Have they come to their senses?  They had already started a battle with us before all this chaos, thanks to Eberon's scheming."
	Leah smiled as if she were surprised herself by the answer she was about to give.  "The elves are helping, too, believe it or not.  Once I told them what Eberon had been up to, most of them decided to break away from allegiance with him and to join us here in Sunset City.  Apparently he had been feeding them some kind of nonsense about how Sarah was using her allegiance with the other six kingdoms as a way to take over smaller groups, and that they were planning to get revenge on Ulmar on behalf of Sage.  God knows why they believed that crap.  And why would your father want revenge on the kingdom of Ulmar?"
	Vindar frowned noticeably.  "That's another story entirely...  I mean, my father is better than that, wouldn't try for revenge, but he would have good cause should he choose to.  Eberon is the one responsible for my mother's death."
	Leah seemed taken aback, and Isabelle immediately squeezed his hand in an attempt to comfort him.  "Oh, I'm so sorry Vindar..." Isabelle said quietly.  "I had no idea.  How long ago was it?"
	"Oh, not long after I was born.  I really never knew her, though I can remember her vividly.  Elves have a stronger awareness as babes than do humans.  She was a beautiful woman.  She used to sing this enchanting song to me..."  He drifted off a moment.
	"Well, it doesn't ever matter how long ago it was," Isabelle replied, as if pondering her own similar heartache.  "It's still difficult to handle the death of one's mother."
	Vindar looked at her so intensely, it was as if Leah were not there.  "Yes, you are right.  So so right."
	Leah gently broke their silence.  "Well, guys, it looks as if things are back to normal.  Why don't you two take it easy for the day?  I've arranged a large lunch to be served out in the square for all those at work today."
	"What about Sarah?" Isabelle asked.  "Now that we are done dealing with the crows, should we go after her?"
	"Well, we'll see.  I'm going to try to contact Sage later today and see how things are going.  He may need our help."   Leah started to leave, and then thought better of it.  "Oh, I almost forgot.  I've been keeping an eye on Hoggle through the mirrors, and he's still asleep.  But he looks as if he'll awaken soon.  I think he needs more help than anyone right now."
	"Yeah, you're probably right," Isabelle answered.  "We'll look after him."
	Leah smiled broadly.  "Good.  Now I'm off to be the queen I never wanted to be.  I swear, when this is all over, I'm going to go home and watch t.v. and eat Ben and Jerry's for a week."
	Isabelle and Vindar looked at each other in confusion.  "Teevee?" Vindar asked.
	"Just a form of mass brainwashing they have Aboveground, that's all."  When they still looked confused, she finally said, "Oh, forget about it.  I'm gonna go make lunch plans."
	"Okay," Isabelle answered.  The two shrugged and walked hand in hand to the gardens.


Isabelle and Vindar walked quietly together through the exotic gardens of Sunset City.  The flowers themselves seemed like living alien creatures, tumbling wildly in predefined patterns set by the castle gardeners.  One fiery gardener stood in a far corner, watering plants and alternating between hums and bops to a strange fiery tune.  As he saw the two enter through the adorned alcove, he slipped out, bopping as he went.
	"This is probably the loveliest garden I've seen," Vindar said quietly as he gazed about.
	"Yes, Sarah has done well with it.  I think she really likes flowers a lot...  She sent scouts all through the Underground to discover the loveliest of species.  She told me once that the flowers here are even more beautiful than Aboveground.  Yet she still has her favorites."
	"There are some flowers here that I don't recognize, and I thought I had seen all the kinds there were to be seen Underground," Vindar replied.
	"She brought some seeds from Aboveground, because she didn't want to forget the flowers from home," Isabelle answered, smiling at the thought of Sarah's nostalgia.
	"They're beautiful.  Nice to get to know a bit about the Queen's world.  And what better means than studying its flowers?"  Vindar chuckled.
	"Yes, I suppose they would be the most peaceful and pretty specimen of her world.  I'm glad she brought them here."
	The silence permeated once again bringing an awkwardness to the two courting youngsters.
	"Do you miss your mother?" Isabelle finally asked somberly.
	Vindar gave her a wan smile.  "I didn't know her well... but, yes.  Every moment.  I think Elves feel our lifeforce differently than humans.  There's a sort of vibration in the soul, an excitement.  I can feel my mother still vibrating through me, and I know it is her.  It is almost as if she is still living.  Sometimes I think a see her doing things right now, out of the corner of my eye.  It's very strange."
	"What do you mean?  Like things she used to do around you while you were still a babe?"
	"No, I mean, I visualize those moments, but I actually feel like I am watching her now.   Like she is living her life out, and I am watching.  Maybe it is a vision of what she could have been, had she survived."
	"What kinds of things do you see her doing?" Isabelle asked, squeezing his hand sympathetically.
	"Gathering herbs.  Making potions.  Talking with strange people."  Vindar laughed.  "Imagine it, I think I've even seen her talking with Jareth! Of all things..."  He paused a moment to consider the issue.  "But I never see my father, or myself.  It makes me a little sad.  I wish we were with her.  I always knew she was a strong woman, but whatever realm she is in now, she should not be alone.  Yes, I miss her.  Strangely enough, I do."
	Isabelle smiled sweetly.  "But she is not alone.  Wherever she is... I am sure she has made friends wherever she went.  If you love her without knowing her, then I am sure strangers - whether they be otherworldly creatures, or creatures such as ourselves - feel automatically compelled to take her in.  If she is anything like you -" Isabelle stopped and blushed, as the words slipped unconsciously from her lips.
	Vindar stopped in his tracks and looked deeply into Isabelle's eyes.  He said nothing, brushing his slender fingers through the girl's wavy locks.  Her face turned a deep shade of pink and she looked away uncomfortably.  The elfin boy pulled her chin up to face him, and began to sing these words:

Gazing on stars from leaf-strewn fields
I gaze upon the very soul
Of life itself

I find a seed, to plant, to grow
A beginning where life begins
The plant's life, my own

And when the summer casts a shadow
Upon the face, upon the heart
Upon the seedlings in the furrow
Upon the maidens in their silks
Upon the world so wild and sweet

I think on thee

The source and beginning of my life
The force of being
My relief from the summer sun

Should the waters flow awry
Should a tear beset my eye
Should the sky turn red as blood
My mind will follow deep and true
To oceans blue
To skies of you

In the faery wilds I've seen
Twists and turns, warped and mean
Beauty like an unwashed pearl
A pearl most like our dark/light world

I find my peace in thoughts of thee

Most like the foamy, deep blue sea.
Most like the foamy, deep blue sea.

Isabelle's eyelashes were glistening with tears, from which one drop finally fell.  "That was beautiful, Vindar.  It was...  I've never heard a song like that."
	"It's an ancient song of my people, one my mother used to sing to me.  The words are difficult to translate, but I believe that it comes across close to how it was intended... I've waited a long time to find someone I could sing it to."
	Isabelle seemed lost for words.  "It's beautiful," she finally managed.
	Vindar brushed his fingers along her cheek.  "Not as beautiful as you, my lovely Isabelle.  Very little could compare to your beauty, inside as well as out."
	Isabelle smiled slightly and turned her face away from his intense, gazing eyes.  They seemed to burn a fire within, exotic, from the realm of faery.  She was drawn back toward them, and felt herself taken in, a willing participant to their magic.  Vindar drew close, his fine high cheekbones mere inches away from the soft curve of her own.  His shiny black hair mingled with her own brunette waves as he came in close for a kiss.  Their lips touched softly and sweetly, their eyes remaining open as they gazed at each other during this intimate moment.  Slowly Vindar drew away to gaze at his love, as Isabelle gazed back, suddenly less shy in her mannerisms.  As they cherished this elegant moment, they could suddenly hear Leah's voice echoing from the very walls of the castle. They pulled away slowly and turned their ears to take her words in.
	"Isabelle and Vindar... Please come quickly, Hoggle has disappeared."

* * *

Delina had arrived at the Dwarven kingdom the previous night, by flight of the Spangores.  She was sitting in her throne room, doing her best to bring order to the floundering city, and talking to her messengers about the events of the night before.  One more search had proved useless.  With the help of the Spangores, the little dwarves had searched for the source of the crows, and they had returned empty handed yet again.  The queen was beginning to feel very disturbed by the whole ordeal.  Though Sage's plan for spreading enchanted corn about the kingdoms had worked to dispel the birds, the crows still flew overhead in great flocks.  In Delina's mind, they seemed angry.  Who knew when they would strike again?  Or in what more dreadful manner this hidden sorcerer would torment them a second time?  This was indeed the most frightening type of enemy: hidden, powerful, without morality or shame.  There was a feeling of doom in the air, as if something worse were about to strike.  Delina did her best to comfort the peoples of her kingdom in a speech earlier that morning, yet they were still piling up around the doors, waiting for an explanation.  Why do they wish our destruction?  What is their motive, and what do they hope to accomplish?  Who is this enemy?  
	She was saddened greatly that she could not answer any of their questions.  So she remained in silence at her throne, pondering all possibilities.
	Just as she was feeling her lowest, her court sorcerer approached, his grey tunic lined in silver, the bottom of his black trousers touching the floor at his heels.  He looked very tired, and his bushy eyebrows drooped more than usual.  Delina couldn't help think that he looked worse than when she had last seen him that morning, after he had stayed up all night in an attempt to rid the kingdom of the magical birds.  "What is it, Gris?"
	He hobbled up to the throne and shook his head sadly.  "I've gotten news that the Bookkeeper has passed on.  By way of enchantment, his wife journeyed with him to the other realm."
	"Oh dear me."  Delina hunched over, propping her head up with her little hands.  "What a miserable day this has been.  How did you get the news?"
	Gris looked uncomfortable in answering.  "The Guardian spoke to me."
	Delina was astounded.  "The Guardian?  But I thought he only came in dire situations?"
	Gris rubbed his chin thoughtfully.  "Yes, but he and the Bookkeeper had a close relationship.  He helped him to pen the knowledge of the worlds above our own."
	"Why do you think he told you?  Surely he is not concerned with easing our worries over his passing?  We would have learned from his son soon enough."
	"I don't know, your majesty.  I think there must be a greater cause.  I think..."
	"What is it, Gris?"
	"I think - if you can believe this - that I detected.... sorrow in his voice."
	"Oh dear me," was all Delina could managed.  "I knew something about this day did not feel right."  The queen drifted off quietly, staring thoughtfully at the walls.
	"My queen, what is it?" Gris asked.
	Suddenly snatched from her reverie, Delina answered.  "Oh Gris.  It just makes me horribly sad.  If only my father had not been so stubborn.  The Bookkeeper was a great man, and my father insulted him.  It was a horrible mistake.  And now he is gone, and there is no time to repay him."
	"I am sure, your majesty, that he is in a place of greater understanding, as your father," Gris consoled.
	"Maybe.  Or perhaps they are still the same stubborn old men they always were."  She seemed to think on it a moment longer, then rose from her chair.  "Well, there's no time to harp on it right now.  Maybe we can send some dispatchers to the other six kingdoms of the council, and see how things are going for them.  Since we have no real solutions at the moment.  Maybe Sage has come up with something..."  As she started to walk off, Gris remained stationary, looking as if he had something remaining to say.
	Delina picked up on his hesitancy and turned around.  "Gris?  What is it?"
	"Uh."  He hobbled over slowly and finally stuttered out, "The Guardian... He also said something else."
	Delina's face dropped. "What did he say?"
	Gris gulped and finally answered, "He said... Prepare for the worst."
	Delina sighed heavily.  "Oh dear me."


Kaleb stared out of the window of his study and gazed upon the hazy mists outside.  It had been quite a task to create a false horde of minions to accompany him to Sarah's kingdom during the independence festival.  In truth, he had few followers, and most of them were of the aviatic sort.  Humans were far too emotional.  None would have been able to withstand the dangers of the Mist of Dreams, even to live within his protected castle.  Sarah had been the only one, and she did not succumb to the madness, because she had already been maddened by him.
	As if voicing his thoughts, Kaleb's Spangore companion, Claw, entered the room and said, "Do you think this girl would have survived the Mists if you had not transformed her?"
	Kaleb turned slowly about from his musings and thought the question over carefully.  After a few moments of silence, he said, "Yes.  I think she would have."
	"I do not know whether or not that is a good thing, M'Lord.  If she is not powerful enough to withstand the Mists, then she is not a fit companion.  If she is powerful enough, she may attempt to overthrow you."
	Kaleb laughed at the prospect.  "Her overthrow me?  Never."  He glanced out the window, continuing, "She could not overthrow the part of Jareth that was me when she first arrived here.  It was a game we were playing, and I only let her go because that fool Jareth would have discovered my existence if she had continued to be around to toy with his emotions.  And, as she was trying to outwit Jareth by obtaining the Amethyst to use against him, she inadvertently gave me the means to control this world.  Even now, she is probably trying to overthrow me, only this time it is going to be for her own gain."
	"And this does not trouble you, M'Lord?"  The bird nestled his beak into his feathers and pecked at an elusive itch.
	"Not at all.  Greed is so predictable.  Besides, she is not at all savvy in her use of the darker emotions.  I am sure that she has been the good little school-girl all of her existence."
	"But have you not watched over her throughout the years, M'Lord?  You would be most likely to know her whims."
	Kaleb seemed disconcerted by the question.  "No.  Once she returned to her world after she acquired her brother in the first journey, I - I mean, Jareth and I - were unable to spy on her."
	"How can that be?"
	"She must have put up a block against us.  That is when I knew Sarah was indeed powerful.  After having been exposed to the magic, she did not need spells or tricks to keep us away.  Occasionally I could get through... It was a block she created unconsciously, all through her desire to be rid of us, of Jareth.  That is why I wanted her to acquire the Amethyst.  I knew she could withstand the perils, might even sway to my manipulations and make me more powerful.  She didn't at first, but, in the end..."
	"Patience is a virtue," Claw replied, in an attempt to finish the sentence of his Lord.
	Kaleb waved his hand, as if brushing the remark aside.  "I have no use for virtues, Claw.  Patience is a means to an end.  The end is Payback."


The Grand Chamber sparkled in inky hues all about her.  From a distance, she looked small, sitting in the large silver throne that belonged to Kaleb.  Rich burgundy tapestries curved inward toward her, a large accentuation of her feminine curves.  Her face was pale and lovely, her lips a ruby color, with a hint of dark purple at the edges.  She was so still, she seemed a permanent part of the environment.  Her hands were placed on the hand rests of the chair, her legs held closely together underneath her shimmering, golden gown of silk.  A black scarf decorated her fair neck.  She was symmetrical, splitting the room in two.
	Her purple eyelids were closed.  They had been closed for some time.  Sarah was in deep meditation, her quiet and dark presence making a heavy impression upon the room.
	From across the chamber, Eberon sat in his glass cage, a new jester's hat adorning his head, rosy circles of red paint on his cheeks.  Despite his clown-like appearance, it was obvious that he was in misery.  He finally rose up from his sulking position on the floor and pressed against the glass.  "What are you doing?  Trying to consult Sage telepathically?  Practicing Yoga?"
	When she didn't respond and continued to remain still, Eberon turned around and slunk back to the floor.  "Figures.  She goes Farbotz at the worst time.  What is she doing?  She's been like this for hours."
	"Do you talk to yourself all the time, Eberon?"
	Eberon jumped at the sound of her voice.  When he turned around, she was staring him down through the glass.  "H-how did you get here so fast!  I didn't see you move!"
	Sarah just smiled at him.  "Not frightened of the little play queen, are you?"  She ran her fingers along the glass and gazed at him through lazy eyes.  "I think it is funny that you wish me to contact Sage.  'Oh help us, Sage! I know I betrayed you, but am I not the son of your best friend?'"  He seemed uncomfortable with her talk, but he stopped in fear when she stared him directly in the eye, an evil stare taking hold of her countenance, strangely becoming.  "'Oh that's right, I forgot,'" she continued, pretending to speak from Eberon's viewpoint.  "'I killed your wife, didn't I?"
	Eberon backed away from her, trembling.  He seemed to have forgotten he was in a cage, for he jumped when he ran into the opposing wall.  "How did you know that?  Did Sage tell you that I killed her?"
	"Oh, please."  She turned her back to face him.  "Sage is too good for that.  He knew that telling me such a thing would ruin your chance of becoming a member of the council."
	"Then... how?"
	She gazed at him over her shoulder, smiling flirtatiously.  "Your thoughts run like water on the surface of your mind, Eberon.  You can't hide from me."
	One couldn't tell, but it was almost certain that Eberon was going pale beneath his white facial paint.  "You can... read my thoughts?  That can't be.  No, you're lying."
	He looked up and realized she was gone.  And he was out of the cage.  He turned around in shock, and she was crouched low behind him, at eye level.  As if he were a child.  "It is you that are lying," she said, poking her lip out in a childlike manner.  "Or at least, keeping things from me.  What are you thinking?"  She began to toy with the bells on his hat.  "You had a little flash there for a moment.  When you realized I could read your mind.  Now what would that little lightbulb be saying, Eberon?  Hmm?"  She rubbed her finger across his sharp nose, and white paint came off her finger.  She showed it to him, then rubbed her fingers together to wipe it away.
	"You're mad," he answered.
	She rose up and spread her arms out, laughing.  As she twirled about the room, she cried, "Why yes!  I am!  Isn't it a curious thing?"  Stopping abruptly in her tracks, she gave Eberon a serious look.  "A little over the top, huh?  Maybe a bit too British?  I've been practicing my Jareth impersonation lately.  How do you think I am doing?"
	Eberon gulped.  "Look, I will help you defeat Kaleb.  You just tell me what to do, and I will help you.  Just please, get me out of here, out of this... atrocious clothing.  I am a king, this is humiliating.  Anything!"
	"No, Eberon.  I am a queen, and it is you who are not treating me with the appropriate respect.  Remember, you are withholding information, and you'd better give way soon, because Kaleb will be unoccupied shortly, and the first person he will seek out is me.  And when that happens, I won't be so happy.  I'll have to play his little game until the next chance comes about for me to do a little snooping, and that may not be for a long time.  And I could always come up with some entertainment to occupy you while I am waiting..."  She snapped her fingers, and a wickedly grinning dancing monkey appeared from nowhere.  Eberon began to dance with it, an expression of horror crossing his face, as he was not dancing voluntarily.  "Alright!" he shouted.  "Anything, I'll tell you!  Just no dancing beasts! Please!"
	The monkey disappeared, and its evil grin was last to leave.  Eberon shivered.  
	"That's more like it," Sarah dripped.  "Now what was it you were thinking, my little green elf?"
	"I just...  It seemed to me that you had gained a little power from the Amethyst."
	"How is that possible, little boy-king?  I don't have the Amethyst."
	"Yes, but...  well, there is something Sage never knew about the Amethyst.  Only the lineage of kings are to know."
	"And what would that be, current king in standing?"
	"The first person to touch the Amethyst has true power over it.  It is a link that cannot be broken.  That is why Kaleb brought you here...  He has to have you in order to have the full power of the Amethyst in his control."
	"Aw, that's all he wants little old me for?" she said, pretending to sound injured.
	"Well, I, uh... I assume there are other factors playing into it, surely."  He briefly looked her over as he said this, then stopped out of fear of her reaction.
	"Oh, you flatter me, Eberon," she answered with a dry chuckle.  "Thanks for telling me, though.  I read it from your mind anyway, but I thought it would be good to see whose side you were playing on."
	With that, he was back in the cage.  "Wait!" he cried.  "Aren't you going to let me out?"
	"Do you really think I am in a position to do such a thing?  And why would I enlist your help, anyways?  You are a backstabber, no matter what side of the board you are playing on.  I don't trust you, even if I can throw you across a football field.  I think I'll keep you around a bit longer, for your entertainment value."
	The monkey reappeared, and the two began dancing.  Eberon tried to scream, but no sound came from his mouth.
	"Payback is a bitch, isn't it?" she said under her breath as she left the room, untying her black scarf and flailing it about playfully as she did so. 


Hoggle's left eyeball popped out from behind a corner and swiveled about, in search of any passerbys that might divulge his location.  Once he was comfortable that he was alone, he came from behind the corner, hobbling down the hall with a large talisman in tow.  The heavy iron scudded across the floor as he dragged it laboriously, a mere few feet from his destination.  He grunted with the exertion.  "Damn you fer bein' a weak fool, Hoggle.  C'mon, c'mon..."  He dragged it behind the foundry doors just in time; a fiery guard started to head down the hall for his regular patrol.  It thought it heard a sound, scratched its chin, then decided to take its head off, dribbling it like a basketball down the hallway whilst it hummed a merry tune.
	The dwarf gingerly closed the doors behind him, and came upon his work in progress.  A large dusty book lay open next to the half-built machine, which was made primarily from old rusty bits of metal, and a few odds and ends Hoggle had scrounged up from around the castle.  He dropped the talisman next to the machine, and started to pass his finger across the tome to refresh his memory on the next steps.  "So's I put this, here, then attach this and this..."  He looked up and summarized the remaining work.  He dragged the talisman over, leaving the book opened to the appropriate page.  At the left top of the page was the title of the book, "Magical Machines."  At the right top, was the name of the chapter.
	"Portals into the Afterlife."


Granen had gone out into the forest in search of some food for the two to eat.  It had been awhile since Sarah's last meal, and her stomach churned for sustenance.  Being the gentleman he was, Granen immediately offered to find something, immediately after he heard her growling stomach.
	"Where is he?" she mumbled under her breath.  She rubbed her arms slowly, trying to engage a little warmth in her tired flesh.  Night was closing again on the Mists, and with it, the cold.  She had a dark premonition inside of her, yet she tried to stay optimistic.  "He'll be back soon, I bet."  Yet, she couldn't hide from the fact that she was suddenly aware of how alone she was.  And how powerless.
	There was a noise in the grey forest.  Sarah jumped and turned towards the source.  It was Granen - he fell in his tracks, and tried to crawl toward her.  He was covered in blood.
	"Oh my God! Granen, what happened to you!" She ran to his side and held him up.  His skin was very cold to the touch.
	He coughed and answered in a scratchy, quiet voice, "Sarah, you must run."
	"Run from what!?  What happened?"  The panic was evident in her eyes.
	"We cannot defeat Kaleb.  Kaleb will destroy us all."  He started to close his eyes.
	"NO!" she shouted.  "Keep your eyes open!  I swear, I will get him for what he has done to you... How -"
	"No Sarah!" he replied hoarsely, his eyes popping open.  "You are too weak!  You are powerless against him.  You must run.  No one can defeat him.  Just... run... away..."
	He drifted off, and was dead.  Sarah's eyes were wide with horror.  She was in denial.  "Oh no, please, GRANEN!"  She was about to try CPR, then saw fully the extent of his wounds.  Once she saw the clawmarks in his stomach, she dropped her hands and discontinued her attempts.  "Oh Granen, not this..."
	She brushed the hair from his eyes and kissed his forehead.  She didn't have long to mourn his loss - footsteps began to approach her from the darkening distance of foliage.  She jolted upright and started making backward steps into the woods.  "Kaleb, you bastard!" she shouted into the distance.  "How could you do something... so evil?"
	A faint voice weaved through the air.  "Poor poor Sarah.  I have defeated your kingdom, killed all of your friends, and torn the seven kingdoms to shreds.  If you ever get out of here, you're not going to recognize your beloved Underground."
	"No!  Please, no, you're just telling me this to frighten me!"
	The footsteps started to come from all directions.  It was even darker, Sarah could barely see the trees in her immediate vicinity.   "But I am not lying... Hoggle asked me why you weren't there for he and the others, when he had vowed to come whenever you needed him.  Why is that, Sarah?  Why are you here?  You should have saved him."
	Sarah turned white.  "There's no way you could have... known... about his vow?"  She felt herself beginning to hyperventilate.  "Oh, God!  My friends!"  She grabbed her chest, as if fighting off a heart attack.  She tried to talk to stave off her fear.
	"You!  If you were a part of Jareth, why wasn't he more evil?  You are hideous!  Insane!"  She began to run into the forest.  "Because Jareth was a truly good man," she whispered to herself, tears streaming down her check.  "Because he held him at bay."
	She ran faster.  "I should have let myself love him.  Oh, damn you, Sarah!"  At this last outburst, she tripped on a tree root and fell, cutting her face.  She held her hand to her skin, and came away with blood.  She could barely detect its redness in the dimming light.
	"What are you moaning about, little girl?" Kaleb's voice taunted as it changed tone, morphing into a voice more evil and demonic.  "You will never feel love again.  You are going to die alone."
	Out from the shadows came a darker shadow.  Yellow eyes glowed from its face.  Other shadows came from the depths, encircling her, but it was obvious that this one was the ringleader.  It smiled, and a yellowish light came from its twisted mouth.  Its voice was deep and resonant, and made the air quiver and vibrate.  The trees seemed to turn to water at the touch of its waves.  "Such a nieve little girl.  You thought that you would escape the darkness of your world, and be free in a realm of magic.  That you would pretend to be queen by day, and dance with the fieries by night.  You are a fool."
	The other shadows echoed him.  "A fool, a fool... a fool," they all said in cascading tenors.
	Sarah looked up at the shadow, wide-eyed with terror.  "Is that you... Kaleb?  Is this what you really look like?"  She tried to breathe as he brought his dark, formless claws toward the canopy of the sky, where the moon shone behind them. He laughed at her.  "You are just now beginning to understand, little girl in the Underground?  Why do you think mortals from your world abandoned their dreams, abandoned magic?  It is a flight of fancy one night, but the nightmares are going to plague.  Magic has a price.  They would rather fight to avoid a tax audit, than to admit to themselves again that magic is possible.  Now they only have to face their nightmares in their sleep."  His silouhette came closer to her, the bright light of his eyes and mouth casting an eerie glow on Sarah's pale face.  The red blood trickled down her neck alongside a river of tears.  "We are their nightmares, Sarah.  You have come to a world where the shadows live.  And now you will die here, frail girl.  Powerless girl.  Now you really know what it means to find your way into the part..."
	He raised his claw high in the air, and the other shadows chittered in delight.  She closed her eyes, as if in preparation for the blow, then screamed a deafening scream.   Her face was contorted with the unreal sound coming from her diaphragm.  The trees shook, and the shadows shrieked, melting away into the very air.  "I am not powerless!" she screamed.  When she opened her eyes, they were gone, and it was day again.  She was standing in the clearing, where she had been waiting for Granen.  She heard footsteps in the forest, and regained composure enough to hide behind a tree.
	Soon the source of the footsteps became apparent.  It was Granen, holding leaves and berries in a nook in his shirt.  "Where are you, Sarah?"
	She peered from behind the tree, terror still in her eyes.  Granen immediately dropped his bounty, and came running to her.  He raised a hand to her cheek, looking at the blood that stained his skin as he did so.  "What happened to you, Lass?  Are you alright?"
	Sarah put a hand on his chest, as if detecting if he were real or not.  "Oh, Granen. You're alive."
	He laughed uncomfortably.  "Of course, Lass.  The shadows aren't gonna eat old Granen."
	"Shadows?" she said, again fearful.  "Why did you say that?"
	"What are you talking about, Sarah?  Please tell me what happened."
	Sarah took a deep breath.  "I don't really understand.  Just give me... a second to recuperate."  With that, she sat on the floor and tried to compose herself. 
	"I should have let myself love him," she mumbled, shaking her head.  Granen scratched his beard worriedly, and tried to wait for her explanation of the events that had shaken her up so badly, and left her bleeding.  She was too caught up in her own thoughts to gratify him as fast as he would have liked.


Ashley, Jareth, and Toby walked leisurely down the sidewalks of New York, having left Sir Didymus at Marlena's Shop, in the trusted care of Marlena herself.  They had spent a good portion of the day roaming about various shops.  Toby was enchanted by the busy city and its variety.  Many times he had declared, "I want to live here!"  It was certainly better than his boring town.  Ashley seemed to adore Toby, and dragged him gleefully from place to place.  She was a child of fancy, and she seemed to fancy showing off her favorite city to the newcomers.
	It was mid-day, and Toby had made friends with a few guys playing chess.  He managed to wiggle his way into a game, and to wiggle his way into the hearts of the old men.  Jareth and Ashley watched on, both of them smiling.
	"That kid is somethin' else," Ashely remarked.  "He just makes friends so fast.  Bet he casts some sort of spell on them, I bet."
	Jareth continued to look at Toby as he spoke, a sort of reverence in his eyes.  "I don't think you're far off.  Even when he was a babe, I was enchanted by him."
	Ashley looked confused.  "Is he yours?  Or are you just the freaky uncle that comes to visit, now and then?"
	Jareth raised a brow at her query.  "No.  Neither.  Though, I suppose the latter is not far from the truth."  He chuckled and crossed his arms.  "This is Sarah's little brother.  We all had... an adventure together... long ago.  A bit difficult to explain.  But I've known Toby since then, and have met him through various stages of his life.  He is a special boy."
	Ashley spun about to face Jareth.  "You know, you remind me'a some guy I almost dated.  He was French."
	Jareth seemed amused. "Oh, really?"
	"Yeah.  Actually, we have a sculpture class together...  He comes in the room, and, 'Bon jour!'  Nice guy.  He dresses like... erm.  I think like Prince?  With a touch of punk rocker."
	"Sounds like a unique fellow," Jareth said, shaking his head and smiling.
	She seemed too busy fantasizing about the guy to have heard Jareth.  "Mmm..."  Then she jumped back to reality.  "Geeze, I'm just so in love with that guy!"
	"Then why did you 'almost date him'?" Jareth asked.
	"Uh...  Well, you know, I'm not in love in love.  He's just so damned cute.  Makes me just wanna..."
	"Pinch his bum?" Jareth finished for her, laughing.
	Her eyes got big and she smiled wide.  "Yeah! You got it!"  She suddenly grabbed Jareth by the hand and pulled him over to Toby.  "Hey, Tobester, gotsta go!  I need to take you guys somewhere."
	Toby looked up and smiled. "Okay."  He turned toward the old men.  "Thanks for the game."  They smiled wholeheartedly and shook his hand, before Ashely dragged the two guys away.
	"Where, pray tell, are we going?" Jareth asked, amused.
	"You'll see," was Ashley's curt reply.
	They were soon standing in front of this humongous, and very ritzy, male clothing store.  Jareth stepped back.  "Uh-uh, no thank you.  Been there, done that."
	Ashley looked like she was enjoying herself too much.  "Oh, come on.  What I would give to see you in some Calvin Klein, or maybe Gucci."  She looked up to the window, and saw some displays for Prada.  She was entranced.  "Ooooooh.  Prada."  She then proceeded to drag a very unwilling Jareth into the store.  Toby followed from the rear, looking equally mischievous in his gait.
	"You're not in on this, are you?" Jareth asked, looking back at Toby.  Toby merely shrugged his shoulders and grinned, then stuck his hands in his pockets.
	"Fantastic," Jareth mumbled, scowling.


After a couple of hours, Jareth finally convinced Ashley that she couldn't afford the barrel of designer clothing she had selected for him to wear, nor could they spend all their time hovering about a clothing store when there was precious little time left for her to show him the remaining splendors of her city.  However, he hadn't escaped unscathed; Ashley had managed three new outfits for Jareth, one of which he was unwillingly donning the linen of as they left the store.
	A high, off-white turtleneck collar climbed his throat and offset his pale blonde hair.  As he walked, the long brown coat he wore fluttertered in the gale of oncoming evening.  His trousers were of the same brown as his heavy linen coat, and were freshly pressed at the seams.  He wore the collar of the coat up, and it pressed against the cottony turtleneck.  His shoes were a daring and shiny off-white, tying in nicely with his tucked-in shirt.  A belt with a silver buckle that looked much like the moon sat at his waist.  Ashley walked behind him so she could drool unnoticed.
	"Well, are you going to come walk up here with Toby and I, or are you going to stand back there and drool all day?" Jareth asked as he continued to look forward, hands in pockets and a smirk playing on his lips.
	Ashley sucked on her bottom lip one last time in adoration before winding alongside the two.  "Sorry 'bout that.  Can't hide anything from you!" she joked as she tore a longing glance from his backside.  She had also chosen to change her attire, and was wearing a blue dress in silk, with a darker chemise underneath.  Lavish beads adorned her neck, and large, tinkling earrings hung from her ears.  She had even found an opportunity to get her hair blue-streaked by the store hairstylist.
	Jareth gave her a sidelong glance.  "I have to say, you look lovely in that dress.  Perhaps you should consider dressing lavishly every day?"
	The unabashed Ashley found occasion to blush.  "Really?" she said, smiling shyly.  She then wrapped her arm around his.  She was totally in love.  "You're sooooo sweet.  Can I keep you?"
	Jareth chuckled warmly, a sadness creeping in on him.  "Ah, if only.  But I am afraid, dear lady, that I am already claimed.  Your offer is however most kind."
	"Then I'll just have to pretend you're mine for today!" she said teasingly, unwilling to remove her arm from beneath his.  He patted her on the arm warmly with a gloved hand.  
	"Make believe is a healthy habit.  We can indulge for just one evening."  With this said, he winked at the city-gawking Toby, and ruffled the young boy's hair, distracting the boy from his reverie.
	Toby seemed a bit sad.  Jareth gave him a good look before breaking his silence.  "What is it, Toby?"
	The boy looked up at Jareth with a slightly drooping brow.  "I wonder if Sarah's okay."
	Jareth gave him a wan smile before looking into the night sky and sighing.  "As do I," he mused.  "As do I."
	Ashley was totally unaware of their conversation as she had just spotted a friend of her.  "Jacob!" she cried as she ran and kneeled to hug him at his position on the concrete, completely unmindful of her brand new dress.  Colored chalk dusted the edges of the silk dress as she bent down near his sidewalk drawings.
	"Ashley?" he returned, looking up at her.  He wore a beret and smiled with full pink lips.  "Well, I'll be damned, that is you!  Haven't seen you since that last class we took together! How have you been?"
	"Oh, just great!" she said happily, looking back at Jareth.  
	"That your new boyfriend?" Jacob said in low tones as he smiled knowingly at Ashley.
	"Just for today," she whispered as she rose to bring Jareth forth to meet her friend. 
	"Is this the sculptor you were speaking of?" Jareth asked quietly with an amused smile.
	"Oh no!" Ashley exclaimed, almost dragging him toward Jacob.  "This is another guy I'm in love with!"  She said it just loud enough so Jacob could hear.  Jacob and Jareth smiled at her knowingly.  "Jacob, this is Jareth.  He's one of Marlena's friends from out of town.  I was just showing him the sites."
	"From Europe?" Jacob asked.  "You look a bit German."
	"No," Jareth answered, unsure of what to say.  "I'm - um - from England."
	"Ah, that was my second guess!" Jacob exclaimed, completely unaware of Jareth's delayed response.  "Your first time in New York?"
	"Yes, it is," Jareth answered as he shook Jacob's dusty hand.  Jacob looked at his hand with sudden understanding, and quickly brandished a small towel.
	"Like it so far?" Jacob asked, wiping the chalk from his hands belatedly.
	"Very much so.  There are many interesting things here that I have not seen before."
	Jacob laughed.  "Hey, Ashley, you should take him to see the Blue Man Group, those guys are a riot!  Definitely not something you'd see in merry old England!"
	"Oh, whatever, Jacob!" Ashely countered.  "They got elves and faeries in England, leprechauns too!  He doesn't need to see our human imitations of blue fae!"
	Jacob cleared his throat playfully.  "Erm, Ashley... Leprechauns are from Scotland.  Don't want to insult him, ya know..."  He smirked at his own wit.
	The girl slugged him playfully on the shoulder.  "He don't care!"
	As the two chattered, Jareth admired Jacob's chalk drawings.  "These are quite good, Jacob.  Do you only do chalk drawings, or are you into other media?"
	Jacob turned his attention from Ashley and looked down at the landscape drawing with Jareth.  "Oh, these?  Thanks...  I seem to get a couple bucks here and there for them."  He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, the cut off fingers of his gloves revealing chalk-stained digits.  "Ah, I paint mostly.  Sometimes I do a bit of graphic design to get a little cash, but my love is painting, to be honest."
	Jareth ignored his lack of understanding of the notion of graphic design and went straight to that in which he was interested.  "Ah, another painter.  Yes, painting is certainly something one can be passionate about.  Although, chalks are quite nice, as well.  And you are masterful with them."  He admired the mountain scene which Jacob had so well carved from the harsh concrete.
	"Do you paint, too?" Jacob asked.
	"Yes, I do.  It is what I miss most since I left home.  Well, that, and the people I left behind."
	"Well, then, why don't you have a go?  The sidewalk is practically free..."  Jacob handed the box of chalks over to Jareth.
	"Oh, no, I couldn't possibly..." Jareth said, a hint of uncertainty in his eyes as he accepted the offering.
	"Sure you could.  Go ahead.  I love to see a fellow artist at work."
	"Yeah, go for it Jareth!" Ashley prodded.  "Gosh, I didn't know you painted, too!  You're just full of surprises."
	Jareth looked over at Toby, who was smiling.  "Well, it's Toby's day, so let's ask him what he wants, shall we?" Jareth said.
	"I'd like to see you draw," Toby said shyly, obviously fascinated by the prospect.  "I bet you could draw all sorts of neat places," he said, almost as an afterthought.  
	Jareth caught his drift, and kneeled carefully.  "Very well then," he mused.  "The decision has been made by young Master Toby."
	Ashley let out a very undainty guffaw and elbowed Toby playfully.  "Master Toby!" she blurted.  "What a laugh!"
	Toby chuckled quietly, too enraptured by Jareth's task to take much notice of her humor.
	And so Jareth began to draw.  He was swift and masterful, drawing with skilled ease.  Onlookers noticing his concentrated demeanor stopped nearby to watch his work.  A small crowd gathered, and, within a matter of minutes, Jareth had completed a full block of sidewalk.  A woman at the forefront of the audience gasped quietly.  Jareth looked up at her from his kneeled position, his hand still touching the concrete through the use of the stick of chalk.  His mismatched eyes looked at her with concern from beneath sleepy and mesmerized lids.  She looked into his eyes so intensely, that he wondered if she might have met him somehow before.  "Are you well, Madame?" he asked, noting that she held her hand to her chest.
	"Yes, I'm fine," she managed, transfixed.  "It just seems like you drew... a place that I've dreamed about for years.  Is it a copy of a painting?  I've always thought I must have seen it in a painting as a child, because I don't know where I ever saw it before."
	Jareth looked down at his work.  He had been in such a state of Zen that he hadn't taken notice of the content.  It was a verdant field, with dusk creeping in on the horizon.   A peculiarly shaped tree sat at the center of the field, reflecting pink and orange hues from the sky.  A young girl with red hair could be seen far away, dancing through the grasses.  A doe looked on from the outskirts of the field.
	He looked back up at her.  The woman seemed strangely similar to the girl in the painting, the red hair identical.  "No, Madame.  I'm afraid this is completely from imagination."
	The woman seemed more disturbed by the prospect.  She handed him ten dollars, said "thank you," then hurriedly walked away.
	He slowly turned to look at Ashley, his gaze lingering on the retreating woman.  The crowd slowly dissipated, but not completely.  Ashley merely shrugged her shoulders.
	"That's beautiful," Jacob offered.  "And so strange that it was of her dream."
	Toby also seemed transfixed by the drawing.  "You're really fast," he commented.
	"Draw another," Jacob begged, prodding Jareth slightly with his hand to continue.
	Intrigued by the initial response his drawing had received, Jareth put chalk to ground once again, this time drawing smaller pieces, as quickly as his hand would allow.  Passers-by would stop and gaze, amazed by something that they would not mention.  The ideas seemed to flow non-stop from Jareth's mind, as he presented one dreamscape after another, and sometimes one nightmare after another.  Jacob put his beret by the drawings, and it filled to the brim with money within a half hour.
	"I don't know what you're doing, but it's like magic," Jacob commented.
	"Yes it is," Ashley said in a whisper, giving Jareth a knowing look.
	It didn't take long for Jareth to realize what was happening.  He had spent so long using his paintings and drawings as a medium with which to escape into his dreams, that he had somehow tuned what magic that remained in him to the skill of painting dreams.  Each person that passed was somehow mentally connected to him, unconsciously using him as a channel.  What was more interesting that many of the images that he created through this strange channel seemed directly from the Underground.
	"My home is just reality's dream," he mused quietly.
	"What was that?" Jacob asked, still transfixed on Jareth's artwork.
	"Oh, nothing," Jareth said, finding it difficult to shake the strangeness of his last thought.  "Here," he said pensively, "let me just try one more, and we shall be off."
	He took the chalk to a task he had done many a time before, and attempted to draw Sarah's dream.  Perhaps it would help him figure out where she was.  He closed his mind to all thoughts, and found the images that lie before him oddly scattered and blurred.  Focusing his thoughts further, he separated the picture into parts, and realized soon that three paintings had filled his mind.
	He drew them hurriedly, so as not to forget them.  Then he and the others sat and marveled at their content.
	The top showed a woman in glowing white, covering her eyes from the onslaught of a light-eating demon with bright red eyes.  The bottom depicted the same woman in stark black standing beside a glowing and caged dove.  And, in the center was the image from his dream; Aboveground and Underground separated, almost reflections of each other, a crow flying on the horizon of the upper world, and a white dove flying high above the horizon of the lower.
	"These are good," a black woman with a shaved head said as she admired the work of a suddenly very distracted Jareth.  "Hey Jacob - see your friend has made you quite a bit of money today."
	Jacob still seemed amazed.  He rose to hug the woman.  "Hi Gail."  Looking down at the sidewalk, he replied, "Yeah, he certainly puts my work to shame."
	"No, he just looks like an experienced painter.  And obviously still engrossed in his work..." she said teasingly toward Jareth, who was still pondering the drawing.
	He caught on to her comment, and looked up with a sheepish smile.  "I'm sorry, it's just that... the drawing surprised even me."
	Gail seemed taken aback at the face that greeted her, and it took her a second to recover.  
	"Oh no, not another frightened woman?"
	Gail caught her bearings and said, "Oh, no, it's not that... Wait, what are you doing to frighten women?" she said to Jacob jokingly.
	"Oh, nothing, it's just that Jareth's drawings seem to have touched a chord with people passing by."
	"I can certainly see why," Gail answered.
	"You seemed startled a moment ago," Jareth prodded as he rose from the ground and finally brushed himself off.
	Gail chuckled lightly.  "Oh, no, just for a second, you looked just like my... erm... boss." 
	Ashley laughed at her.  "Yeah, your boss."
	"What's funny?" Jareth asked, looking at Ashley's amused expression.
	"Oh, she just refrains from saying her boss's name, since he's pretty famous, and she doesn't like to seem uppity or anything.  You probably know him."
	"Ah, I would guess not.  I don't keep up with celebrities," Jareth answered.
	"He's a musician," Jacob said with a smile.
	"Oh, one of those..." Jareth said somewhat jokingly.  
	"You look a little preoccupied," Ashley offered, concerned about the deepening wrinkles in Jareth's brow.
	"Um, yes, I would suppose so," Jareth answered, playing with his goatee.  "Actually, I hate to cut the evening short, but I really need to see Marlena, if you don't mind."
	"Sure," Ashley answered, obviously concerned over his sudden looks of worry.  "Hey," she said to Jacob and Gail, "gotta go.  It was nice seeing you guys."
	As she went to shake Gail's hand, Gail said, "If it's okay, I'd like to go with you.  Jacob's been telling me I need to check out Marlena's place for awhile, and I'm tired of going to old Bogey for herbs for my spells.  He's getting to be a real pain in my neck."
	"Okay," Ashley said.  "I'm sure she'll love the business.  Tag along!"  With that said, they waved good-bye to Jacob as he closed up shop, and headed back toward Marlena's shop.  Jareth was in quite a state of consternation, as was Toby, who knew exactly who the subject of two of Jareth's last three drawings was.  "I hope Sarah's okay," he mumbled under his breath as he tagged along behind the group.




CHAPTER XXVIII: Faery Friends


The decision to go into the Mist of Dreams was one not taken lightly by Sage.  Representatives of the seven kingdoms all offered their hand in the journey, but none too reluctantly.  Even as Sage spoke to each one, he could tell the trepidation in their voices; as if the horror of the previous day had not been enough to traumatize any creature of the Underground.  Yet, it was their duty to serve their respective kingdoms bravely and without a hint of fear, so they boldly laid their swords down before him in a sign of allegiance.  Among the surprise, Sage could detect relief, as he told each one to go home.
	Sage was wise to the dangers of the forest.  The greater the numbers entering, that much greater the numbers that wouldn't leave.  It would take individuals of great personal determination and emotional will to enter the Mists, and therefore an army served him little.  He wouldn't even know what an army would be up against until he found Kaleb's fortress in the Mists.  For all he knew, the man possessed no army whatsoever, and his destruction lie only in a subtle pushing of a psychological button.  He could only hope this was true.
	And so the small group had traveled by the wings of the Spangore to the edges of the Mists; Sage, Ludo, Benedick, Mandelbrot, and Eepwot.  Mandelbrot saw it as his duty to come along, since his king was one of the likely prisoners.  Sage tried to counsel him against it, urging him that they would save Eberon if he indeed was prisoner.  Mandelbrot fought deftly against Sage's counsel, finally stating that it was his responsibility, no matter what a licidious larva he considered the young king to be.  Sage smiled broadly at this, and welcomed his old companion on the journey, happy to be close to a fellow from his old life, even if it was in dire circumstances that they traveled.  Eepwot too was advised to remain in the elfin city, but was just too plain crazy to heed any warnings, and saw a potential party in the whole ordeal.  
	"You're mad, do you know that?" Sage said to the fiery.
	"Aw, c'mon.  At the end of everything, a party's waiting. This is my life's creed, aye!"  The fiery sauntered beside Sage in a manner befitting of a spaghetti noodle.
	"But what if it's a party minus one fiery gent named Eepwot?" Sage rationalized.
	"Oh, no no," Eepwot said emphatically with a vigorous shake of his head.  "Eepwot is at every party."
	"Oh, come on," Sage said with a chuckle. "Surely you cannot make it to every party?"
	"Sure's I can," Eepwot said, pulling off his strange ornamental belt.  He seemed to untangle it, stretching it out before him to show a chain of ornamentation big enough to walk through.  "This thing is my party transporter.  Wherever there's a party, it takes me there.  Sometimes I only get's to stay a moment, but I goes!"
	Sage gave him a sidelong glance.  "Really? Aren't you missing a few parties right now?"
	Eepwot put it back on and said, "Hmm.  Naw, I'm just pullin' yer leg.  This just be my belt."  The fiery man winked at Sage and started jump-roping with the jingling belt.
	"Ah, you fieries are full of mischief," Sage said, smiling.
	"Naw, everyone's full of mischief.  We just got it down to an art," said Eepwot before doing something very un-fierylike and getting serious.  He put his belt back on, and continued his spaghetti walk.  They were right on the edge of the Mists.
	Everyone got suddenly quiet.  Voices chittered from the depths, and Ludo cocked a floppy ear to the sound.  He looked around with a wrinkled brow, then looked down at Sage, as if to say, "We're going in there?"
	Sage understood his anxiety immediately, and gave Ludo a pat on his enormous hand.  "There's a good fellow," Sage said.  "It'll be alright."
	Ludo inhaled deeply, and let out a deep sigh as he looked again into the forest depths.
	"So, this is it, eh my friend?" Benedick said, wringing his paws.  His ears were perked to a razor-sharp point, and even the straight hairs in his ear canal seemed to be twitching in search of strange sounds.  "We are damned crazy," he added.
	Mandelbrot straightened his luminous robes before looking at Benedick.  "We were all damned crazy before we got here, my friend.  That's the only reason we considered going.  But it will be alright; I have a good feeling about this all."
	"Oh, don't tell me that you're an optimist, too?" Benedick said, giving a mock-disdainful glance at both Mandelbrot and Sage before rolling his eyes.  "You elves and your optimism.  Blech."  He seemed to retch at the notion.
	"Oh no, not at all," Mandelbrot said.  "See, I plan ahead.  I left my last Will and Testament before we even began this journey.  If I die, you fellows can look forward to some drunken debauchery, for I will have nothing of sad looks at my last rites."
	Eepwot nudged Sage.  "See, I's said there's a party at the end of everything."
	Sage took a deep breath.  "I know your intent is to lighten the mood, Mandelbrot, but I'm afraid all this talk of death is doing nothing for my resolve.  Why don't we just get to it?"
	A simultaneous deep breath was had by all as every set of eyes gazed warily into the Mist of Dreams.
	"Right then," Benedick said, fingering the sheathed sword at his side nervously.  "Let's get at it."

Sarah soon learned that the Kaleb's castle itself was malleable, and its form subject to the wishes of any powerful user of magic.  She had created for herself a study to her own tastes, cozy and decadently filled with tattered bits of extravagant and richly-colored cloth.
	In what looked very much like a source-less holographic display, Sarah had magically conjured all of the writings of the Bookkeeper, as she knew he was the most thorough source of information in the entire Ungerground.  Here it was that she would wile away her hours until she discovered exactly how she would make her presence known back on Earth.
	When Claw entered the room, Sarah's feet were propped up on a desk of a design mixed eclectically between Scandinavian and 17th Century Italian.  Her legs were tightly wrapped in shiny leather, ending in high black stilleto boots that sat with their own arrogance upon the surface of the desk.  She wore a long-sleeved jacket made of burnished red silks, tied at the waste with a thin burgundy sash, opening over her right shoulder and breast.  Under the jacket she wore a burdundy turtleneck made of a somewhat transparent velvet.  Her dark hair was glossy and ominously straight, falling in rivulets down her back and over the chair she sat in.
	She did not tear her eyes away from the holographic documents in front of her, though it was obvious by the way she suddenly crossed her legs over the desk that she was aware of his presence.
	"I see that her Majesty has brought an element of her home world to our own," Claw said in a quiet rumble, glancing at Sarah from drooping eyelids.
	Sarah did not respond, but continued through the documents, weighing several thoughts in her mind as she did so.  Claw had a dark evil under his feathers, while their surface carried many textures and colors that gave him a regal and heavenly presence.  He was spindly in areas, and contrastingly strong in others.  His beak came to an elegant point, and his eyes were silver.  Sarah had begun to find the ensign very intriguing, and knew there was a story rich as a tapestry attached to this bird.
	Claw continued to walk gracefully about the room on his two legs, bracelets jangling on his wrists as he did so.  Sarah gave him a brief glance, looking down at the razor-sharp and steel-veneered claws that were the bird's namesake.  For a bird, he seemed awfully fond of refined jewelry.  It suited him well.
	"Making plans to betray Kaleb so soon?" he asked as he looked over her shoulder.
	Sarah's eyes continued to peer at her work from beneath suddenly slitted eyelids.  But she could not answer him.  She did not know the reasoning for his questions, and she knew that the walls had ears.
	The large bird pretended to observe her studies intently for a few more moments before saying, "Hmm, interesting.  But it's going to take much longer that way.  A lot of philosophical rhetoric to sort through.  However, you could just ask me, and I might have the answers for you."
	Sarah paused and looked at him from the corner of her eye.  She could sense his sincerity, and swiveled her boots from the top of the desk and rose.  Then she made a sweeping motion with her hand, and the room was enshrouded in a strange, gray mist.
	"It looks as if you are the one making plans to betray Kaleb, Claw," Sarah said, cocking her head to the side and raising an eyebrow.  A balcony materialized in the mist, and she walked out onto it, Claw in tow.  "You realize that I am meant to be Kaleb's new friend.  It's not in your best interest to start such conversations with me.  I might tell on you."  She gripped the cold stone banister and looked out into the gray fog of the Mist of Dreams.  Something in her change had made her able to see and think so many things at once, as if she were now a supercomputer.  As she continued her awareness of Claw and their conversation, her eyes squinted, and she looked deeply into the forest.  She saw, miles away, Granen and her other half wading hopelessly through the forest.  A smirk played on her lips.  If they remained lost forever, she would never have to again contend with the "better" half of herself.
	"I think I know your intent," Claw remarked, ruffling his feathers slightly.  "You are stronger than Kaleb realized.  I think Jareth never underestimated you, but that it was Kaleb who could never bring himself to believe a woman might be more powerful than him."
	Sarah snorted.  "How right you are."  She squinted more deeply and saw past Granen and the other Sarah, to the outskirts of the Mists.  Sage and an entourage were preparing to enter, no doubt in an attempt to save her.  "Idiots," she mumbled under her breath.
	"Your Majesty?" Claw asked, aware suddenly of her distraction.  "Do you see someone out there?" he asked as he followed her gaze, which ended, for him, in gray nothingness.
	"Yes, but they are far away.  Time may be growing short, though I doubt they will ever make it through the Mists."  She turned to face Claw.  "I, however, try my best not to fall into the trap of underestimating people, Claw."  She crossed her arms and began to pace.  "And you have been smart to keep your true self hidden from Kaleb.  Tell me, what will you get out of coming over to my side?"
	"Not much, probably.  A new way to pass the time.  I've grown tired of Kaleb and his little mission of revenge.  Or whatever it is supposed to be.  Power, I suppose.  I did not envision spending the rest of my days in these gray Mists when I first offered my allegiance to him.  I've served him well, and bear no malice towards him, but I have a feeling that you would have a more interesting way of spending the time in mind.  And I can see that your power far outweighs his own."
	"Tell me, how did your alliance with Kaleb start?" Sarah asked.
	"Out of boredom, really.  I left the Spangores several years ago because I really didn't fit in with their militaristic style of life.  Just went off on my own."
	"I suspected you were a Spangore," Sarah remarked, "though you look a bit different from the other Spangores.  Your build, and your feathers...  Very different from all the Spangores I've met."
	"Ah, yes, a little magic can go a long way in changing one's appearance," Claw said with a hint of a smirk playing on his beak.
	"A bird after my own heart," Sarah oozed.  "Tell me how you met Kaleb."
	"Actually, I met the Amethyst first.  I saw you long ago... fighting atop a plateau with Jareth.  I am the one who seized the shard at the base of the plateau those years ago.  Kaleb by then was strong enough to communicate from outside the stone.  As I had nothing else to do, I took the Amethyst to a sorcerer, who returned Kaleb to human form."
	"You must bear some of the Amethyst's power," Sarah said.  "If you touched it, you have some control over it."
	"Yes, meager though it may be.  I'm sure that's the primary reason Kaleb keeps me around.  And you.  That is, until he finds a way to re-consolidate the power."
	"I think you're right," Sarah said, briefly gazing over the holographic documents that had become much less interesting all of a sudden.  "I think you're telling me the truth, Claw.  And I would be pleased if you would join in my plans, that is, if you have something to offer in the way of suggestions."
	"I'll do my best.  What do you have in mind?" Claw asked as he sauntered near her.
	"I am going to go Aboveground.  I want to have power over both worlds.  I've never been satisfied with the workings of this world or my old world; but together, they would be a perfect mix.  Much more interesting."
	Claw seemed intrigued.  He leaned in closer.  "Yes, I think you are correct.  It would be an interesting feat."
	"Now the question is, how?"  Sarah motioned towards the scrolling documents of the Bookkeeper.
	Claw did his own measure of pacing before he turned around and answered.  "It's simple, really.  Something I actually accidentally learned from Kaleb."  He repositioned his wings as if to become more comfortable before going into his narrative.   "In a way, our world is only the dreams of those Aboveground, and vice versa.  We are each other's dream.  Yet, both worlds refuse to acknowledge the existence of the other.  I don't really know why; seems the hard split between worlds happened so long ago, I can't begin to imagine.  Hundreds upon hundreds of years ago.  But we were once more intimately joined.  That is one of the characteristics of the Mists of Dreams.  Those Aboveground who are more closely tied to this world in spirit will walk here in their dreams.  I have seen them occasionally, though they are often too hazy to make out.  And I am sure there is a place such as the Mists Aboveground.  A place where both worlds join.  There are probably other such places.  Actually, Kaleb only knows of the faery qualities of the Mists; he's never really considered crossing to the other world, because he has no interest in it, nor in anything that does not fall into his mission."
	"Hmm," Sarah considered.  "You've done your homework.  You're right, there are other places like that.  Some of them are deliberately created by sorcerers, I think."
	"To combine worlds - now that's going to be the trick.  I'm not sure how you would do that.  First you would have to find a place of power Aboveground.  Darker powers, preferably, and densely populated."
	Sarah smiled devilishly.  "Hypnotism.  Or a magical form of it.  The key will be through the mind, through dreams.  Bring the subconscious thoughts of the Underground to the forefront, for a large number of people, and the worlds will begin to meld again."
	"Yes, that might work.  But how do you reach a world full of people?  And how will you know where to do it?"
	"You forget, Claw... This is my home world you speak of.  I have the perfect place in mind, and always have.  A densely populated city where technology runs rampant over the lives of men and women, men and women who seem to covet being ruled by the city and its dark powers.  A virtual satellite to all television in the world.  New York City."
	Claw nodded his head.  "It sounds like the perfect place."  He plucked a feather from his wing with his beak, then said, "What will we do with Kaleb?"
	"Leave him here, trapped in his own dungeon.  He'll be powerless to stop it, once it has begun."
	"What do you think will happen, if this all works?" Claw asked dryly.
	"I have no idea.  Should be interesting, huh?" Sarah said, winking her eye conspiratorily. 
	Claw grinned more widely than should have been possible, his eyes mere glinting slits.  "Fun is the word I would use.  I haven't had fun in ages."

The wind had a strange way of finding its way through the seemingly impenetrable mortar in the stone walls of the east wing.  It was that much stranger to hear these deep sighs and moans of air in a room so deep into the center of the wing, and so far underground.  Eerie as it was, Hoggle did not let the morbid tones of the air distract him from his meddling in the affairs of the afterlife.
	However much he wished to ignore it, though, it gave him chills.
	"Confounded machine, work!" he yelled, kicking the strange, rusty contraption at the direct location where he had placed his last bolt.  "I swears, machines isn't worth the troubles."
	But he knew he felt differently, despite his words of anger.  A little apprehension tugged at the back of Hoggle's mind, and it enhanced his exasperation with the lack of performance on the part of the machine.  The longer it took, the more he doubted his mission.  He knew if he didn't get it working soon, he would realize just what he was doing and want to give up.
	Stepping back, he looked at his creation.  He rubbed his chin thoughtfully and admired the structure.  It was almost the frame of a mirror, looking like the ancient sculpture of an industrial society.  It was actually very beautiful, despite the rust and odd bits of machinery he had acquired in place of those which the building guide had actually called for.  Quite an awesome task for a dwarf blessed with no inclination towards artistry.
	"Guess'n I better say the words again," he mumbled as he moved toward the aged book that held a similar image on its ragged pages to that of the device Hoggle had built.  He bent over the document and looked up at the creation, chanting the incantion as awkwardly as one ungifted with magic might.  This time his pronunciation was subtly different than last, and something began to happen.  A sort of shimmering emanated from the center of the frame, barely discernible.  This gave Hoggle hope, and he shifted his weight nervously, inching back from the device a bit in anticipation.  He chanted the incantation again as before, louder this time.  The shimmering grew.
	Hoggle didn't have to repeat himself.  The light in the room grew, along with the moaning of the wind.  The dwarf shrank in apprehension, and covered his eyes with his small arm to shield himself from the growing brilliance coming from the portal.
	As the light subsided, Hoggle could see what had actually happened.  The frame of the portal had formed a rippling, watery mirror at its center, where the silhouettes of two figures were represented.  It took a few moments for the image to develop further, progressing from a sort of state of inverse, dark colors.  It was an image of his mother and father.  They were both smiling, especially Mr. Hiddlebury; something quite uncharacteristic of the old man.  Though they still bore some of the wrinkles they had earned in life, they seemed much more youthful, their skin glowing happily.  Hoggle was overcome by their strange, transcendental beauty, and began to cry.  However, he was struck more by their actual presence than their beauty alone.
	"Mama... Papa," he managed to stumble out.  "It's really you..."
	They smiled back at him, and his mother turned to Mr. Hiddlebury and said, "He's as stubborn as his pa."
	"I know, he just won't let go fer nothin'," Mr. Hiddlebury answered jokingly.
	Hoggle didn't waste time, he got straight to the question that was on his mind. "Can you... come back?  Come back home?"
	Mrs. Hiddlebury's sourceless reflection gave her son a wan smile.  "I'm afraid not, son.  This's our home, now."
	"Where are yous?" Hoggle asked, still doing his best to bite back the tears.
	"On th'next plane," Mr. Hiddlebury answered.
	"What does that mean?" Hoggle asked, almost pleading.
	"You'll understand one day, 'oggle," Mr. Hiddlebury answered, giving his wife a sidelong glance that belied his worry over his son.  "Too difficult to explain now.  You's just needs ta know that yer Ma and I are doin' just fine."
	"But I want you to be with me!" Hoggle shouted.  "It's not fair that you both left me!  Ma and I should at least be together... Ma should come back 'ere with me!"
	"But why should I, Hoggle?" Mrs. Hiddlebury queried gently.  "You don't really need me."
	"Yes I does!" Hoggle broke down.  "I'm lonely!"
	The confession seemed to echo in the room, an admission of his soul that surprised even Hoggle himself.  His parents looked at a loss, unable to put comforting arms around him.
	"I knows you are, son," Hoggle Senior offered.  "I knows you are."
	"But don't forget," his mother added, "you still'ave friends to comfort you.  You don' need to be lonely, son.  Dontcha ferget the friends ya do have witcha now.  Be happy fer us.  We're able to rest where we are.  We're at peace."
	"My friend is gone.  Sarah is gone.  I can't get through this wid'out her."
	"Sure you can!" Mr. Hiddlebury exclaimed.  "You gots other friends here."
	As he said this, he looked past Hoggle's shoulder, where Vindar and Isabelle stood, having slowly and quietly entered the room.  They seemed awestruck by what Hoggle had accomplished, and only stood aside, transfixed as well as deliberately careful in allowing Hoggle to continue in his conversation without interruption from them.
	"Besides, son," Mrs. Hiddlebury explained,  bringing Hoggle back to the tete-a-tete between the living and deceased, "you need to let us go so that you can get Sarah back.  She's in a heap o'trouble right now.  It's yer duty as'er friend to help'er out."
	"That's really why we're here, 'oggle," Mr. Hiddlebury said, somber.  "It ain't normally allowed fer those that've passed on to visit those they left behind...  but there's great trouble brewin' Aboveground and Underground."
	"The Guardian asked us to come to you, son," Mrs. Hiddlebury said solemnly.
	"The Guardian?"  Hoggle seemed dumbfounded.  Even more shocking than the presence of his dead parents was mention of the Guardian.  Like most, Hoggle knew little of the legendary Guardian, only that he stood at the gates between Underground and Aboveground, and that his father had had a mysterious relationship with the fae.  The Guardian had inadvertently been Hoggle Senior's source for knowledge Aboveground; as the old dwarf was the one willing to write the histories, he had been bestowed the honor of learning about the other world directly.
	"Yes.  It's time you were given the key, 'oggle."  Mr. Hiddlebury looked down at his son, his eyebrows curving inward and nearly hiding his large, somber eyes.
	"I'm gonna meet th'Guardian?" Hoggle asked, his face the epitome of awe.
	"Tha's not how it works, m'boy," Hoggle Senior chuckled.  "You'll learn in time.  Th'Guardian does have a mission for ya, though. An' it won't be easy."
	"What about Sarah?" Hoggle asked.
	"It involves Sarah," Mr. Hiddlebury answered.
	"It'll be a long journey," Mrs. Hiddlebury added.
	"What does I do?" Hoggle asked, his eyes widening with the unexpected turn of this encounter.
	"Many things is gonna happen today, son.  Lotsa strange things.  You's gotta keep yer focus, cause you are a major key in unraveling that which'll be woven by nightfall."
	"Remember Kaleb, son?" Mrs. Hiddlebury asked.  "He's the one who done captured Sarah."
	"He's changed'er.  She's been torn apart, into the two sides of her conscience.  You must find the White Sarah, the one who is her essence of light, an'bring Kaleb to'er."
	"And a spell," Mrs. Hiddlebury added.
	"He's... harmed Sarah?" the dwarf began to tremble in anger.  "I swears, if I find him, I'll kill'm!" Hoggle grumbled.
	"You can't do that, son," Mr. Hiddlebury said.  "If he dies before the spell can be cast, you'll kill Jareth too."
	"Fine by me!" Hoggle shouted.  "Wait... why's you protectin' Jareth? You hate'im too!"
	Mr. Hiddlebury smiled knowingly at his son.  "You sees things different on this side, 'oggle.  Sarah needs Jareth.  She needs him if she's ever gonna be normal again."
	"I don' understand," Hoggle grunted, crossing his arms.  "I don' believe yer actually my Pa."
	"Trust me, son, he's still yer Pa," Mrs. Hiddlebury answered, laughing.
	"I'll always be yer Pa...  Now's I can keep an eye on ya all the time!" Hoggle Senior joked.
	After a pause, and an unwilling and slight grin,  Hoggle finally said, "Where do I get this spell?"
	"You'll know when you find it," Mrs. Hiddlebury said.
	"Where will I find it?  Aboveground?  Underground?" Hoggle asked, increasingly exasperated by the increasing lack of sense the whole ordeal was making.
	"Neither," Hoggle Senior answered.  "As I said, son, things is gonna happen."
	"Then where does I find Kaleb?"
	"He's in the Mist of Dreams...  You gotsta get him soon, or it'll be too late," Mr. Hiddlebury replied.
	"How's'm I supposed to get to th'Mists so fast?" Hoggle nearly bellowed.
	"We'll take ya there, son.  But you must be leavin' now."
	"How am I gonna capture'm?  I ain't got no powers, no weapons, no nothin'!" Hoggle protested.
	Suddenly a wooden medallion appeared on the table before Hoggle.  The dwarf picked it up and inspected it.  It was carved in a circular shape, and had an inset piece of onyx at the center, engraved into the silhouette of a raven.  Turning it over, he discovered a set of runes.
	Vindar came closer to look over his shoulder.  "It's a morphing talisman," he exclaimed.
	"What does that mean?" Hoggle asked. "What does it do?"
	"One can never tell.  The creator decides how it will perform.  You won't know until you actually use it," Vindar answered.
	"You must use the talisman to capture Kaleb," Mr. Hiddlebury explained.  "Once you capture him, you must find White Sarah an'bring her and Kaleb to her other half."
	"What about Jareth?" Hoggle asked.
	"He'll find you."
	"I s'pose I don't get any useful information then?" Hoggle asked, snorting.  His mystical encounter with his dead parents was quickly turning from an experience of great joy and wonder to the dreaded expectation of a long, grueling, and seemingly impossible chore.
	"I'm 'fraid that's all we can tells ya, m'boy," Hoggle Senior answered, belying none of the frustration that often came upon him in life.
	Isabelle came forward and put a reassuring hand on Hoggle's shoulder.  "We will come with you, Hoggle.  We can help you on your journey."
	It took a moment, but Hoggle almost seemed to smile.  "I'd much appreciate that."
	"There's no way we would expect you to do this alone, Hoggle," Vindar added.  "I'm very glad we found you before you were to leave."
	"Oh dear!" a voice came from behind the door.  Damion made himself visible, and inched out from the concealment of the mahogany door, almost shivering.  "This is not good! Oh dear!  What will I tell Lady Leah?  And Her Majesty, Sarah!  In danger!  What a frightful day this has been!"
	Vindar came toward the bird-man and tried to comfort him.  "You will tell Lady Leah exactly what we are doing, and that we will be alright.  We can save Sarah, do not fret, good fellow."
	"Have you been there the entire time?" Isabelle asked.
	"Erm, I followed you..." Damion managed to stammer out.  "I wondered what had happened to Master Hoggle, and I, erm... I was curious."  He seemed a little sheepish.  Finally, he added.  "Alright, in all truth, I knew since this morning that Master Hoggle would attempt to revive his parents.  I saw that the book was missing."
	"You didn't tell us?" Vindar said, a little surprised by the bird's behavior.
	"I wanted to see if he could do it," he admitted, speaking in a whisper.
	"It's just as well," Vindar said.  "It is a fortunate turn of events."
	"We must leave now," Mrs. Hiddlebury said, the form of the ghostly couple beginning to waver with the dimming magic of the portal.  "We can't be wastin' anymore time."
	"Yes, you are right," Vindar said.  "Damion, go inform Leah as to what has occurred.  Let her know that all will be well."
	Hoggle put the talisman into his pocket, then looked up at his parents, a bit of uncertainty playing upon his face.  "Guess we gotta go, then."  He said resolutely.  He was the first to step through the portal.  Isabelle and Vindar were swiftly in tow.
	Almost instantly, the light that once emanated from the portal fizzled out.  Damion stood before it, transfixed, and trembling in anticipation of the predicted doom.  "Oh my... What will happen to us?  This is going to be a very bad day."
	He gripped his close companion, the castle treasury journal, closer to his chest and slowly meandered from the room, trembling in his journey to the throne room, where he would relay the news to Leah. "Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear..."

It was sudden, and quite unexpected.  The party of five entered the forest of the Mists, and each was instantly isolated, engulfed in fog.  Each had made attempts to call out into the Mist for the others, and though, in physical space, they were no more than a foot apart, the illusion of the Mists made them unable to see or hear one another.  So they each trod forward, seemingly alone, to face whatever lie before them.

Sage was not too alarmed by the sudden loss of his companions.  He had expected something odd to occur at some point in their journey, and it might has well have been from the very beginning.  He braced himself for the faery lies he knew he was to face, and walked forward resolutely.
	Female voices seemed to call to him from the depths, and he did his best to resist their enchantment.  Faery faces emerged, swimming through the Mists, smiling at him knowingly.  They seemed to be swimming away from him, towards a certain point in space.  He walked toward that point, unwitting, even in his resolute strength, to the fact that he was subtly succumbing.  He continued to travel onward, squinting his eyes as the shadow of a figure seemed to await him in the distance.  As he was not yet sure that which he might be expected to face, he allowed himself to continue on, to find out exactly who this mysterious figure in the Mists might be.  Yet, deep down, he knew.
	Her radiant red hair seemed to be a source of light in and of itself.  She was decked in a vibrant green, sheer, suggesting the beauty of the naked form beneath.  Her deep green eyes were almost fae, her angular face enhanced with earthy hues.  It was Marlena.  She was holding her hand out to her beloved Sage.
	"Come to me, Sage," she beckoned.
	He only took one more step forward.  His eyes sparkled in remembrance of this beauty.  The current of swelling love and need that he swam against was maddening; yet he held his ground.
	"I - I know that you are only an illusion," he replied.  "I must not follow you.  I love you... but I know that I cannot have you again."
	Her eyes showed no sign of malignance, and she kept her elegant hand stretched out toward him.  A knowing smile on her face, she answered, "You are correct, Sage.  This body is merely an illusion.  But the spirit it defines is very real."
	Sage smiled deliberately, gradually finding the faery magic easier to resist.  "Ah, faery logic is astounding.  And I am to find this a loophole that would be simple to go along with?  I know what my test is, fae.  I know that I must let go of my lost love.  I know that I must resist you, else I shall not be able to leave the Mists."
	"Do not be so quick in deciding your test, Sage," the woman answered, walking closer to him.  "Elf though you may be, you shall never understand the works of fae."
	The voices in the mists grew louder, resounding the words, "Follow your love to find another love."
	Somehow, the words rang a trueness that Sage would not have expected.  Part of him shouted a warning, that these voices were tempting him to his doom, yet his instincts spoke differently, saying that he had somehow encountered truth within these faery mists, and that he must take the outstretched hand, this fae who had taken on the form of his beloved Marlena.
	"One that you love awaits you in the Mists.  And one beyond.  It is time, Sage," the woman whispered, mere inches from the elf.  She bent down and brushed her soft lips against his angular cheeks.  "It is time.  Hear my truth."
	She rose, and, as she did, Sage noticed that he had unconsciously placed his hand within her own.  She walked facing him, not needing eyes to find her destination.  Sage had allowed himself to be enchanted, yet it felt right; somehow, it felt as if all would be well.  He swelled inside and allowed himself to fall into the flow of the faux Marlena's gait, uncaring for any doom or splendor that awaited him at the end of the journey.  At her touch, he could only feel true contentment, a perfect balance only possible in a faery realm.

Ludo's face contorted into an expression of confusion as he found himself suddenly alone in the dark forest.  "Sage..." he moaned softly, knowing deep down that he would not be heard.  He felt suddenly frightened, afraid for his friends, and afraid for himself.
	The simple beast slowly began to trudge forward, his large head turning about in his travels, his eyes seeking out his companions.  His lumbered on, his fur swaying from side to side.
	He traveled on, his fear increasing at his continuing lonesomeness.  He remembered that Sage had told him to feel no fear, that the only danger he would face would be if he were to allow himself to be afraid.  He tried to be brave, but he could not help the simple anxiety that welled in him, like a dozen moths in his stomach.  He was only comforted by the notion that they were going to save Sarah.  Despite all fears, he felt that they would succeed, that they would help his dearest friend.  "Sarah..." he moaned as he continued on, hoping deep down that somehow she could hear him.
	He started to notice movement out of the corner of his eye.  He slowly moved the fur from his eyes to see better.  He stopped as little faeries began to emerge from the mists, glowing brightly, and barely finding form.  Their translucent wings seemed to come in and out of reality as they danced about his head.  They smiled down at him, and some brushed softly against his fur.  He smiled sweetly and awkawardly, feeling that they were close to him, innocent and curious.
	"Ludo," they coaxed.  "Sweet Ludo, do not be afraid."
	"Ludo scared.  Mists dark," he said quietly, almost afraid of running them away by speaking too loudly.
	"Then we shall light the way," the faeries offered.
	Ludo seemed uncertain, despite the seeming innocence of the beautiful sprites.  "Sage say Mists bad place." 
	The faeries nudged him on.  "No, Ludo, not for one as innocent as you.  Your heart is true.  You shall find what you seek.  We will show you the way.  Do not be frightened sweet Ludo."
	His fear subsided.  He followed the little sprites as they pushed him on, twirling forward, lighting a path with twinkling brilliance reminiscent of the nighttime stars.
	"Pretty," Ludo said quietly, amazed by the beauty before him.  The Mists seemed to separate before him, and the sky could be seen overhead, sharp and clear.  The beast tilted his head back to marvel at its beauty.  The faeries smiled down upon him.

Benedick hadn't traveled far before he was challenged by the dark powers of the Mists.

	A mere ten yards had planted him firmly into a small, but deep, lake.
	"Blast it all!" he shouted, flaily about as he suddenly realized that he could not swim.  "Where in Hades did... the lake... come from?" he managed to sputter out as he made repeated attempts at keeping his head above water.  His head was sopping weat, and his whiskers made a brave attempt at continuing to look dignified.  They could not possibly hope to succeed in light of his lack of swimming abilities.  During his brief moments above water, he could swear that he heard little faery voices chittering in the distance.
	Suddenly he heard something plop in the water.  It was floating, so he instinctively grabbed onto it, rising above the water, and gasping for air.  The object cried, "Heyas, I gotta breathe too! Be careful whicha way you spin, me, ay?"  He looked down at his flotation device, and quickly realized he was holding on the Eepwot's head.
	He hacked up some water and finally said, feeling completely without grace thanks to his current condition, "Lost your head, eh?"
	Eepwot's brow darkened and he gave Benedick a look as if to say, "What do you think?"
	"I'd say," Benedick hacked, "that's the first time a fiery losing his head was ever... an event to celebrate."
	"Hey, man-cat, quit yer philosophy and get us outta here, huh?"
	"Right, right, couldn't agree more," Benedick managed, doing his best to dog-paddle over to the lake's shore.  Sage was waiting at the edge to help him out.  Eepwot's body stumbled out of the depths behind him, eagerly searching for its head.
	"Ah, Sage, so kind of you," Benedick said as the elf helped him out.  He tried hard to ignore Sage's amusement over the matter.  "Hope you fared better than I did.  Does this mean we passed?"
	Sage smiled at his very wet feline friend.  "I don't know what it means, my friend.  Nothing is happening as I expected."
	Benedick handed Eepwot his head, after which the fiery eagerly returned it to its rightful place, turning it a bit to the left to make sure it was screwed on tightly enough.  "Blast it all, them faeries know how a fiery hates to lose his head for good!  Knocked it clean off, they did, and the buggers laughed all the way!"
	Benedick snorted.  Water came out of his nose.  "How embarrassing," he mumbled, licking his paw and wiping it over his face once, before realizing the futility of such an action.
	Sage suddenly seemed concerned.  "Wait - where is Ludo? And Mandelbrot?"
	"Oh my, they couldn't have gotten lost in the Mists, could they?" Benedick asked, quickly forgetting the mortification he had been feeling earlier over his situation.
	"I don't know," Sage said, the worry on his face deepening.
	They all looked around expectantly, but didn't have to wait long.
	Mandelbrot entered from the left, holding his staff before him. "Ah, there you fellows are!  What a pleasant journey this has been!" he exclaimed.
	Benedick merely raised a very wet brow.
	"Ah, maybe not for all of us..." the sorcerer corrected.  "However, I think things are looking up for us.  A very kind faery told me where to find Kaleb's castle.  And that we would be meeting someone there."
	Before they had a chance to react to the sorcerer's news, Ludo sauntered slowly from the forests, with Sarah and Granen in tow.  
	"Ludo find Sarah," he announced, smiling.  "Faeries Ludo friends." 




CHAPTER XXIX: Woven


Sarah entered Kaleb's chamber with a confident stride, her head tilted down, just low enough to enhance the evil glare that shadowed her eyes.  A smirk played on her lips.
	Kaleb looked her over with unconcealed lust.  Her clothes had changed with her mood; she wore a long black shirt of rayon that hung well below her knees, and fell from the waist down in shreds and tassles.  The collar rose high around her chin and flayed out, the opening coming midway down her busom.  Her sleeves were rolled up to the elbow, and her right wrist was decorated by a large, ostentatious bracelet made of feathers and rings of tarnished silver.  Her loose-fitting pants touched the ground, leaving only the forefront of her sandaled feet exposed.
	"I see you've taken a fancy to making a fashion statement with each appearance," Kaleb mused.  "Fickle tastes suit you."
	She seemed to ignore him, and closed in seductively, brushing her fingers over his shoulders as she circled him.  Her dark eyes did not leave the amethyst shard that hung from his neck.
	"What is it, dear Sarah?" Kaleb asked.  "Looking for a bit of evening entertainment?"  He firmly planted his hand on her breast, and added in a breathy whisper, "We can arrange an excursion."
	She seemed to smile in approval, but there was a bit of something else mirrored in her eyes.  She faced him frontally, and forcefully jerked his slender hand from her busom.  Her eyes squinted purposefully.  She ripped the amethyst from his neck.
	He seemed taken aback, but did his best not to bely the true level of the anxiety that overcame him.  "What's this?  A little case of betrayal?"  He smirked as if it was a game.
	She smiled more broadly, her eyelashes curling evilly over her lids.
	"You know the shard is useless to you without the rest of the amethyst.  Or without me for that matter."
	"Is that so?" she asked, challengingly.  "I think you've been lying to me.  I think perhaps you might have overestimated your control over this situation, Kaleb.  And your control over me."
	"It does not matter, Sarah," he said, becoming deathly serious.  "You will never find the remainder of the Amethyst.  I have hidden it well.  Unlike you did."  He smiled at her as if he were the cat and she the mouse.  Her mouth curved up at the left corner.
	Sarah looked very much like the feline in this situation.
	"Hmm..." she hummed.  A haunting tune began to escape her lips as she made a journey towards the door to welcome the entrance of Claw.  Her hips swayed subtly.
	Claw entered, holding the remainder of the amethyst.
	Kaleb's eyes widened in a complete loss of emotional control.
	Sarah grinned.  "What's this?  Perhaps Kaleb is week without Jareth?  Perhaps he is nothing of concern."
	"Impossible," Kaleb muttered, never pulling his eyes from the amethyst in Claw's wings.
	"Quite possible," Sarah replied, cocking her head to the side.  "More than that, quite real.  This is no illusion, Kaleb."  She paused to let the concept sink in.  "I am more powerful than you."  She bounced her head about in a fashion reminiscent of a happy-go-lucky cheerleader and said in a perky voice, "Don't you just hate that?"  She laughed wickedly as she exited the room.
	Before he left behind her, Claw said, "Sorry Kaleb.  Nothing personal."
	Kaleb looked as if he were about to explode.  He screamed and began a very purposeful and brisk walk in their direction, only to smash into an invisible force field.  He swept his hand through the air in an attempt to cast a rudimentary spell to break the field, to no avail.  "No!" he shouted.  "This cannot be!  My powers!  All gone!"
	Sarah's laugh echoed throughout the castle.  Before she and Claw exited the premises for good, Kaleb grabbed a nearby chair and smashed it into the ground, where it lost all it's form due to the loss of the magic that created it, and did nothing more than disappear in a twirl of glittery fire. 
	"You bitch! I'm going to kill you!"



Elsewhere in the castle, Hoggle, Isabelle, and Vindar materialized in the now very plain and undecorated throne room.  They were immediately greated by an anxious Eberon, decked in clown's face paint.
	Vindar rushed to the king's side and shouted, "Eberon!  Lord, are you well?"
	Eberon didn't seem to recognize Vindar, and was mumbling insanities under his breath.  "So sorry, didn't mean to, didn't mean it, really, really, really!" he exclaimed.
	"Oh dear, I think he's lost his wits," Vindar announced to the others.
	Suddenly Eberon looked up at them, like a man just waking up from a very bad dream.  His eyes were wide with new wonder.  "She's gone.  She's left."  
	"Who, King Eberon?" Isabelle asked, bending down to wipe the face paint from Eberon's face with the end of her dress.
	He looked at her, still struck with fear.  "Sarah.  She's left.  Just now.  Mother earth, the torment is over!"  He cried tears of joy and gripped firmly Vindar's hand.  He peered deeply into the boy's eyes.  "I'm so sorry, lad.  I am so sorry  for what I did to your parents.  I vow that I shall spend my life trying to amend it!"
	Vindar looked at Hoggle and Isabelle, his own face showing complete awe over Eberon's condition, and his strange confession and apology.
	"What's happened to'im?" Hoggle asked.
	Eberon looked about, like a man possessed.  "She was in my mind.  She is so powerful... But I am free, now that she has left.  My cage disappeared moments before you came."
	"Sarah?" Isabelle said.  "Sarah was in your mind?"  She was in utter disbelief.
	"Yes!" Eberon screamed.  "In my mind... she played so many things, the images of what passed when I exiled your father and ordered that your mother be sent into limbo, all of the cruel things I have ever done...  And how my victims anguished at my orders.  It was... too horrible to describe!"
	Vindar helped Eberon rise.  "Then what the Hiddlebury's said must be correct.  Sarah has split, and her darker side has some kind of plan.  Where did she go, Eberon?"
	"I don't know...  I only felt her presence vanish.  All I know is that she was seeking the power of the amethyst.  She made me tell her..."  
	"What?" Vindar demanded.  "What did she make you tell her?"
	"Oh, earth Mother, it is horrid.  She must have it.  This spells certain doom for the Underground."
	Vindar shook the man, for he was mumbling incromphensibly.  "What did you tell her!?"
	Eberon looked up at Vindar, his eyes mirroring a great fear.  "She is the only one who can control the full power of the Amethyst, Vindar.  Kaleb never had full control over the amethyst.  But Sarah does.  And she can do anything."
	Vindar gazed into his eyes, fully digesting what the king told him.  "So what Kaleb has done is mere child's play in comparison."
	"A pebble in a vast lake," Eberon added.
	"Oh no!" Isabelle exclaimed.
	"This ain't good," Hoggle mumbled, pulling out the talisman and eyeing it.  "What're we gonna do?  We can't harm'er, but what if we gots to?"
	Suddenly the castle began to waver and sway.  "Uh oh," Vindar mumbled.  "We have to get to it.  The magic that makes this castle is losing its composition.  We have to find Kaleb, and quick."   He looked to Eberon.  "Where is he?"
	Eberon pointedto the hallway, and quickly led them to Kaleb's chamber.  Once they all arrived, Vindar stepped into the room.  Kaleb was huddled in a mass at the center of the room.  He looked up suddenly when he saw them approach, much as a caged animal would a potential predator.
	"You!" Kaleb spat at the sight of Eberon.  "I order you to get me out of this!"
	"Never," Eberon replied with a dark chuckle, in what he obviously saw as a grand joke.
	"But we might have'ta get'im out," Hoggle said.  "We needs'im."
	"Yes, for once Higgle is being sensible.  Do as he says."
	Hoggle merely gave him a dirty look.  "So's it was yous who couldn't remember my name," Hoggle said disdainfully.
	"Hoggle's right," Vindar said.
	"But what about his powers!?" Isabelle exclaimed.  "We're defenseless against him!"
	Vindar touched the force field, then stepped back to analyze the situation.  "It seems this force field not only cages him, but I am guessing it quells the power he has remaining.  If we were to let him out, he would probably regain his powers."
	Kaleb seemed to smile at this new information.  But everyone was too preoccupied to catch a glimpse of his newfound mirth.
	Vindar held his hand out to Hoggle.  "Hoggle, give me the talisman."  Hoggle placed it into his slender hand.  The elf turned it over and looked at the runes carefully.  "First things first," he said, a determined expression on his face.
	Vindar chanted the runes on the back, then held the talisman out before him, facing it toward Kaleb.  A black stream of smoky light emanated from the raven at the center, and engulfed the unprepared Kaleb.  Within moments, the smoke drifted away, and a single black feather floated to the ground where the man once stood.
	"I like this toy!" Vindar exclaimed, tossing the talisman up playfully and catching it again.  He put it back into Hoggle's hand, after which Hoggle dutifully put it back into his pocket.
	"Sure is a useful trinket," Hoggle agreed.
	"What about the force field?" Isabelle asked.
	Vindar walked forth and picked up the feather without incident.  "It's gone.  No one left to guard."  He smiled triumphantly.  But his joy did not last long.  The castle was quickly disintegrating.
	"We must leave!" Eberon exclaimed.  "But there are no doors in this confounded place!"
	"How will we get out?" Isabelle asked worriedly.
	"Easy," Vindar answered.  "We have to go to the first room that was created.  It's the only place that actually touches real ground.  Of course the question is, which was the first room to be created?"
	"I think I might know," Eberon said.  "Follow me."
	The group followed the elf king down melting corridors, into a circular staircase that spiraled up and down.  Down and down they went, until they finally reached the very bottom.  Around the staircase, there was a circularly shaped room, whose walls were phasing in and out of reality.
	"We can wait here," Eberon said.  "It seems that the castle has nearly dissipated."
	Quickly the walls became a sort of glittery mush that transformed into a sparkling fire, swiling into the air and evaporating, leaving the small group stranded in the middle of a clearing at the very center of the Mists of Dreams.  They looked around and found themselves at the heart of a large circle of power, inscribed with ancient runes.  The staircase had been the very center of the fortress, from which all power had emanated.
	"Would you look at that?" Vindar said, stepping gingerly from his place at the center of the circle.  "I haven't ever seen a circle of power of this size."
	"Just great, we's in the very center of the Mists.  What're we gonna do?" Hoggle said in exasperation.
	"Have a party!" a voice cried from the depths of the forest.  Everyone turned around to find that the source of the exclamation was Eepwot, the unofficial king of the fieries.  He was standing next to Mandelbrot, and behind them walked Sarah, Granen, Sage, Benedick, and Ludo.
	Ludo saw Isabelle and cried joyfully, "Little Sarah!"  Isabelle ran to give the great beast a hug, quickly running to Sarah.  "You're alright!" she cried, as the others exchanged hugs as well.
	Sarah gave her a wan smile.  "Not completely.  I'm not quite... whole," she corrected.
	"Um, Sage my friend, I would not want to split hairs at a time like this, considering we were lucky enough to find the new additions to our party..." Benedick said, rubbing his furry goatee, "but... where's the blasted castle?"
	"Gone, gone, gone," Vindar replied.  "Along with the other Sarah."
	Benedick joined the others in carefully digesting this new information.  Finally he yelled, "Then what in bloody hell are we doing here?!"
	A large and very bright light emanated from the depths of the forest, and two tall, slender female figures emerged.  Everyone had to cover their eyes to make them out.
	Each woman was completely in the nude, their wild hair gently teasing their skin.  They did not tread the ground with feet, but with hooves, their long legs split at the center by their equine ankles.  Their wings were translucent and spread out wide.  They held hands as they approached the awestruck group, toads, gnomes, goblins, and mice in their wake, looking on with enchanted gazes, fighting to be close to these higher spirits.
	The faery women smiled down on the travelers.
	"Who... who are you?" Isabelle managed, looking up at the beautiful women with an unconscious smile.
	Sage looked at them with recognition.  "I know who they are."  He immediately dropped down to one knee in admiration and respect.
	The woman on the left bore a more mischievous smile than her sister.  "Rise, Sage," she said before turning to face Isabelle.  "I am Laiste, daughter of the Moon."
	The other, more somber woman also answered, "And I am Dorcha, daughter of Epona, Lady of the Horse and the Moon."
	They paused, giving the group a few moments to take them in.
	"These are dark times," Laiste finally said.
	"And also times of light," Dorcha added, looking firmly upon Sarah.
	"Your time is a time of ripened knowledge, plucked from the tree by unprepared and ignorant hands," Laiste sang.
	"Your time is a time of dark ignorance, planted in the earth and uprooted by wise and knowledgeable hands," Dorcha continued.
	They spread their hands out symbolically, and an image of two worlds from the side emerged, as if reflections of one another.  It was Aboveground and Underground.  A white dove flew in the golden sky of the land of the crystal moon, while a dark raven traveled over the green skies of the world of the brazen sun.  They combined and became something twisted and gnarled, devoid of definable shape. Like tree roots warped by disease and barren earth.
	"Some things were meant to remain separate," Laiste said.
	Their voices rang clear and true in the dark night.  The stars sparkled down upon the group as they all did their best to understand the riddled words of the sisters.  What were the faery women trying to tell them?  What was their quest?
	"Answers we cannot give you," Dorcha said in reply to their unspoken questions, "but the correct questions... yes, these we can point you toward."
	Laiste looked up as if seeing an event that none of the others could detect.  "The time has come."
	Dorcha acknowledged her sister's announcement with a silent nod.  "Then you must all follow... Come, and we will tell you what you must do."
	They all followed the glowing women into the very heart of the Mists, not one daring to speak.



Jareth, Ashley, Toby, and Gail made it back to the magic shoppe in short order.  When they entered, Marlena was talking to an older man, whose back was turned to the door.  When they heard the bells jingle on the door, they both turned to look and see who had entered.  Jareth stopped, dumbfounded.
	"Master... Jeremiah?" he said with no small amount of shock.
	"Jareth!" the old man cried.  "There you are! Thank the stars you've returned."
	Ashley piped up with her usual brazenness.  "An old friend?"
	Jareth stepped forward to shake the old man's hand, his mannerisms strangely uncomfortable.  "My teacher.  From my youth."
	Marlena stepped from behind the counter amd smiled.  "Master Jeremiah has told me a great deal about you, Jareth.  You were a crazy kid, as I hear it!"  She chuckled warmly and crossed her arms. "How was your day out on the town?"
	Jareth was very distracted by his thoughts, and the appearance of his old master only added to the strangeness of the situation surrounding his return to the store.  
	It was more than odd.  It tugged at Jareth's instincts uncomfortably, assuring him further that something bad was going to happen.  
	Jeremiah had been Jareth's master in his youth; he was also the man who cursed Jareth to be king of goblins once he had acquired the crystals.  He remembered the day of his departure from this small village all too well.  He had made the decision to seek out the power of the crystals, and Jeremiah had gotten wind of his intentions.  He told him none too assertively that he would doom all the young man's efforts at acquiring power, should he leave before his lessons were complete.  Jareth was impatient as the young are wont to be, and he had not heeded his master's warnings.  Nor did he believe that the man who had been such a major force in his upbringing would dare bring any harm to him.  
	His journey was swift, and, once he had found the crystals, his power seemed almost limitless.  He pretended to be a god, and found a small city to take control over.  They gave him the crown without question.  He was certain from that day on he would be without worries.
	Until the next day came.  The entire city of humans morphed into a horde of mindless goblins.  He was king over goblins.  And the Labyrinth built itself around him, preventing his escape.  He could travel across the lands, but eternally he felt his tie to the city and its Labyrinth.  Should he leave, he would be overcome by madness.
	And all of this, he knew, was the doing of his former Master Jeremiah.
	Jeremiah came forward and put a hand on Jareth's shoulder.  "You know I had to do it," he said quietly, acknowledging Jareth's silent thoughts.  "You understand now, don't you?  You understand that it was for your own good?"
	Jareth surmised the man to the best ability of his distracted mind.  "Why are you here?" he asked, unwilling to acknowledge or consider such a difficult question.
	"Something very horrible is about to happen."
	"Sarah?"
	"Yes, Sarah.  But not just to her."
	Jeremiah looked over Jareth's shoulder and out onto the streets of New York.  Everyone on the sidewalk was looking up at the sky.  Jareth caught Jeremiah's gaze, and slowly found his way outside.  Everyone in the shoppe followed out of curiosity.
	With great trepidation, Jareth scanned the sky.  A large bird - a Spangore - was flying overhead, with what appeared to be a woman atop its back.  Jareth instantly recognized Sarah's dark locks.  A swarm of ravens flew behind her, all making a bee-line for the gigantic television screen at the center of Times Square.
	He inched forward, wanting to reach out to her, wanting to stop whatever was about to happen, but feeling completely powerless.  "Sarah," he said under his breath.
	Toby looked up at Jareth, having caught his mumbling.  "Sarah?" he said hopefully.  "That's Sarah?  Has she come to get us?  She's free!"
	Marlena looked too, pensive.  "I don't think so, Toby."
	"Why is she going to the t.v.?" Ashley asked Jareth, nudging him.
	"I don't know," he said, shaking his head lightly.
	"She's gonna do it," Jeremiah mumbled in disbelief.  "She's actually going to do it.  I wonder if it is really possible."
	Jareth swung about and grabbed the old man forcefully.  "What is she going to do?"
	"Well, who knows if it will actually work..." Jeremiah said, "but I think she is going to try to meld Aboveground and Underground."
	"And where did you learn about this?" Jareth asked with increasing exasperation.
	Jeremiah gave him a knowing look.  "You know as well as I do that there are always ways of obtaining information, my boy."
	Jareth did not wish to acknowledge the old man's condescension.  All he could do was look up to the screen where the small figure of Sarah could be seen, and wait for the worst to occur.
	He tingled inside, and could feel the closeness of her spirit.  But it was dark, and heavy with anger and evil intention.  Her voice echoed quietly inside his head, uttering an incantation.  Purple of the amethyst glowed in his mind, maddening and powerful.
	In his mind he could see her closely, as if she was projecting her image upon his inner self.  She wore a fanning gown of light grey velvet, a print of ravens flying from the hem of the dress, fading out as they rose toward her busom.  Her hands were held high to the sky, her mouth moving in ritual.
	Then her eyes moved away from the sky, and faced him, peering deep into his soul.  She smiled, still chanting, yet in his mind he heard her say, "Hello my love."

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

Dorcha looked down upon the brave companions who had entered the Mists, her face somber, more somber than any somberness a mere mortal could express.  "The Darkness has begun.  The fae have never needed mortal help so dearly as today.  It is your calling to save the mortal and faery lands, before it is too late, before what has been woven can no longer be torn asunder.
	"We, the sisters and guardians of light and dark beseech you, Sarah, Queen of Sunset City... bring the worlds back as they were.  You are the key."
	"What is happening?" Sarah begged, pushing forth from her position amongst the group.  "What am I supposed to do?"
	The faery women began to drift away, almost powerless to their own dissipating forms.  They seemed to be fading against their will.
	"Help us," they moaned, their voices becoming one with the wind.
	"The Guardian at the Gate will take you to where your journey begins..."
	As they disappeared before the eyes of the amazed group, another light grew, like a million sparks forming shape.  A sliver opened up in the very air, parting like threads in a malleable fabric, opening up like a blooming flower, intense and powerful.  Sarah knew immediately what she had to do.
	She shielded her eyes against the light, and began to step into the portal.
	"Sarah, wait!" Sage cried, reaching toward her.  But it was too late.
	The elf looked at the group, and all had seemed to come to a silent acknowledgement.  One by one, they climbed into the portal, transported by the magic of the being that was the Guardian of the Gate between the realms.
	When the light dissipated, they again found themselves in a Misty forest, greener and more substantial than the one of the Mists of Dreams.
	Painted, ebony faces peered at them curiously from behind the foliage.
	Sarah regained her composure and took in her surroundings.  She quickly discerned the curious faces that took them in.
	"Where are we?" she whispered to herself.
	No one could answer.  But it was definitely not Underground.  Nor Above.




CHAPTER XXX: Muppet Madness


Leah had just been beginning to cope with the departure of Vindar, Isabelle, and Hoggle when something strange happened.  Sitting on the throne that did not belong to her, she was thinking about how much she hated her life, when suddenly she found herself no longer on a plush throne, but in a leather desk chair with rolling feet.  Quickly she surmised that she had been transported into an office of sorts.  She looked down at the arm of the chair and saw a remote control for heating and massaging action.  Suddenly struck by the whimsy of her situation, and feeling absurdly out of control over her own affairs, she decided to travel the road of her irony happily, and pushed the switch for a neck massage.  Knobby things in the chair began to knead her neck.  She relaxed into it while she pondered her circumstance.
	It was a rather goofy-looking office.  There were puppets and figurines strewn about.  There was also a framed picture on the desk; she picked it up to analyze it.
	It was a photograph of Jim Henson.  She'd recognize it anywhere.  "Hmm, a fan, I guess," she mumbled, trying to convince herself she had a grasp on what was happening, though she knew she did not.
	To confirm the fact, a muppet opened the door, holding a bunch of paperwork.  The muppet was in fact Kermit the Frog.  Leah's jaw dropped.
	"Erm, a, Missus Leah, I, uh, got some papers here for you to sign," Kermit said as he bounced over to the desk in his usual fashion.
	Leah bent forward to see over the desk, and realized that Kermit was in fact unmanned; he was moving quite of his own volition.
	That's when she realized that this day was going to be a bit much , even by her standards.
	"Whoever came up with this is smoking something," Leah mumbled.
	"Excuse me, ma'am?" Kermit asked.
	Leah looked at Kermit carefully, hoping that a good, long look would help her to realize she was hallucinating.  Kermit just looked at her hopefully, in expectation of an answer.  Leah sighed.
	"Nothing Kermit. Just... go get met some coffee or somethin'."
	"Sugar and cream?"
	"And morphine, too, please." 
	Kermit worked his jaw around a bit before trotting off in search of a mind-numbing refreshment for the new CEO of the Jim Henson Company.
	As he walked out the door, Leah saw muppets, puppets, and animatrons of all kinds milling about purposefully, making her wonder exactly how much of reality she had been taking for granted all this time.
	But she knew, deep down, that the answers would not come until the sequel.



THE END

First Draft Completed January 24, 2002