It was a new day at the Henson Company, and Leah went for a walk through the offices and empty studios after a huge conference with the other key players at the company (which, as expected, were primarily Muppets). They had watched a breaking news report in which word had been given that Sarah had chosen Pennsylvania as the place for the battle to occur. This had brought on much discussion at the table and the decisions made in the meeting had left Leah thoughtful.

She finally found herself in a huge room full of old hand-painted film backdrops, where she meandered in distracted exploration. Soon Justin found her and was at her side, walking. He quietly reached for her hand. As she laid her hand in his, she smiled softly and somewhat awkwardly at him.

"So, Pennsylvania," he mused. "Guess she wants to make sure New York stays nice and safe. That's gonna be a pretty long bus ride."

"For some of us," Leah mused with a secretive grin.

"Oooh, you're cooking something, aren't you?"

"Well, Sarah and I—the other Sarah, of course—have been talking. She and Sage's witch friends are working on a way to transport the troops instantly to wherever we need to go."

"That's fantastic. So we'll be able to spend more time preparing." He stopped a moment. "But you said, for some of us. You're still going to transport some over ground?"

"That's the thing. This new spell they are talking about… it won't just allow us to go to Pennsylvania instantly, it will give us one better. We can take the battle to her. To New York."

His eyes widened. "Oh geeze."

"But we can pretend like we are going to go along with her demands… If some of us take ground transportation to the battlefield she has predetermined, then she will—"

"She'll think we're outnumbered and will find herself shorthanded when we attack her castle, brilliant!" He seemed to be working hard to keep from wild gesticulations. "But she will recover quickly, right?"

"Definitely. Which is why this can't be the crux of our plan. We need to do more to assure our victory. Fight in different camps. And above all, we have to find a way to keep everyone safe. She may be willing to kill—heck, we don't know what she plans to do—but we have to find a way to make sure everyone remains intact so that everything can go back to normal when we—knock on wood—save the world."

They came across an old statue, about fifteen feet high, that loomed over them, dusty from years of disuse. "Wow, how did you guys get that in here?" Leah asked.

Justin bumped the statue, causing it to wobble a bit. "Foam. No stonecutters here." One of the statue's feet served as a convenient bench. He sat down. "Well, there's all sorts of things we could do, you know, to keep them busy. I mean, what's our goal? Get the two Sarah's together to duke it out?"

"There's really a lot we need to do. As far as I have heard from Sarah's better half, a few different sorts of magic will need to be performed. It may not be enough to join Sarah again, the world is starting to gel into this new shape, and it will need to be separated forcibly through a huge expenditure of energy and awareness. She honestly doesn't know how she is going to muster that… She says it will take more than her awareness, and since the world is becoming increasingly unaware of what it used to be, inhabitants included…"

"It's not too late," he reassured. "Something will turn up to help them."

His positive attitude was contagious. "I'm sure you're right." She sat next to him, noting the mild crunch of Styrofoam under her weight. "Wow, it's hard to believe this thing is made of foam. It looks so real." After inspecting the painting on the surface more closely, she asked, "So, what're your ideas?"

A lightbulb seemed to go off over his head. "You know, I'm still getting used to all this magic stuff… I just got the weirdest idea, but I bet Sarah and her friends could make it work. Aside from all the possibilities in the city… underground tunnels and sewers they could use to infiltrate… attacks from the sky… finding ways to get into the castle and sabotage their intelligence and organization—"

"You're killing me with suspense, what's your big idea?" she blurted, squeezing his arm playfully.

"It's so simple," he said, looking up at the towering face of the statue, then back at Leah. "We turn them into statues. One blow from a weapon—a blunt one, of course—and the enemy turns to stone."

Leah grinned broadly. "I'm sure they could find a way to do that. You're a genius!"

"You meant to say, I am a handsome genius."

"No, actually, that's not what I meant to say." She held his face between her palms. "This is what I meant to say."

And then she confidently, passionately kissed him.

He responded in kind.

##

It was late in the evening, a fact that only the clock would reveal, as the sky no longer changed. It was as if the entire Earth had been transported to another galaxy and had been frozen in orbit.

Sage had been regaling Toby with tales of his sister over dessert, dramatically unfolding the story of how Sarah became Queen of Sunset City, and had created the court of nations Underground. The boy was overflowing with questions about the other world and about the elfin tribes. Marlena sat with them, content to listen and reconnect with her past by hearing tales of what had transpired since she left. She had already spent much of the evening telling her own stories.

Just as Sage had begun to tell the tale of how he met Marlena, about the betrayal that caused him to lose her and choose the nomadic life, which led to his meeting of Sarah, Gail walked into the room.

"Toby, Sarah wishes to speak to you."

The boy's eyes brightened and he hopped out of the chair quickly. "Where is she?"

"She's not here, she's using the mirror."

"Are you sure it's safe?" Sage asked.

"She seems to think so." She led Toby out of the room and to the small mirror sitting on the coffee table in the living room. "I'll be in the other room if you need me."

Toby nodded and sat down, giddy to finally be face to face with his sister again, at least, part of her.

"Hello, Toby," Sarah said, beaming.

"Sarah! They wouldn't let me talk to you before, but I wanted to!"

"I know, we just weren't sure it was safe before. But I think somehow you are being protected from my other half, I just haven't figured it out yet."

Toby couldn't help feeling a bit strange in talking to her, because for so long he hadn't really had much interaction with her. He could see now very clearly how different she and Leah were, and how much closer he felt to the woman he had so long thought of as his sister. Still, he remembered Sarah well enough to feel a deep affection for her, despite the slight sense of betrayal he felt.

"Toby, I wanted to apologize to you for lying to you for so long."

It surprised him a little that she was so open about it, but he was also relieved that she brought it up, since it had been on his mind. "I think I understand," he answered. "Sage told me why you had to do it."

"Still, I know I kept something very special from you, and I thought it was in your best interest, but I know now that it wasn't. I hope you will forgive me."

"You're my sister," he answered.

She smiled happily. "There is something else I need to tell you, Toby. I know about how Jareth has you involved with the spell to separate him from Kaleb, and I think you might end up meeting the other … half of me. I need you to promise me that you won't listen to anything she says."

"Why not?"

"She's not me. And in all truth, I'm not me either. I – we all have this dark side, and a light side. Sometimes our dark side does things we aren't proud of. Do you understand what I mean?"

"Sort of."

"She might try to hurt your feelings, to say something about you that comes from a place of anger, or she might try to trick you into hating me so you do something she wants."

"If she's you, isn't what she says kind of true?" He couldn't help feeling sad at the thought of her saying anything unfriendly to him and meaning it.

"Well, in a way, yes," Sarah answered. "Don't you ever sometimes get angry and feel something about someone when you are angry that you don't feel when you are more yourself later on?"

He thought about it and nodded. "I guess so."

"At times like that you just have to remember that the person loves you, and that they are just feeling hurt and don't really mean what they say. And she is that side of me, so she may try to be mean, and say things that I would only ever feel when I was sad or hurt, but which I don't really think most of the time. You have to remember that I love you, no matter what that side of me says. Make sense?"

"Yeah, it does." Toby smiled. "If she's a brat to me, I'll just ignore her."

Sarah laughed. "Okay, good deal." Her expression fell a bit and her face paled slightly. "I had better go, Toby. I am not feeling very well, and it's taking a lot of my energy to control the mirrors."

"Okay, Sarah."

"We'll get through this, huh?"

"Yeah, we will." He smiled at her and touched the mirror.

Just as her image was fading away, he blurted, "I love you, Sarah!"

The words made her fade a little more. She smiled with effort, and answered, "I love you too, my not so little Toby."

##

Isabelle had been given the task of watching over the children of the camp, teaching some of them to weave the nets that would be used to entrap enemies on the battlefield. Mostly the children just played, not minding what species their playmates were from, but just enjoying the experience of being young and without boundaries.

One little girl had been the center of most of Isabelle's affections and attention. Little Marie was only three and had been found wandering on the highway by a couple that had traveled from the country the Abovegrounders called Illinois. The little girl reminded Isabelle a great deal of herself as a child, alone and forgotten, and she had done all she could to comfort the child who had been separated from her parents.

The general excitement of the camp had kept the girl occupied for a few days, the frequent play with the young pigs and mice keeping her well distracted, but Isabelle could tell by her increasing bouts of quiet moping that she was beginning to really miss her family.

Isabelle sat next to her and caressed the girl's hair. "Hi. How are you doing?"

The little girl shrugged and twirled a stick around in the sand.

"You miss your parents, huh?" Marie nodded her response. "Well, when this is all over, I will help you find them."

The little girl shook her head. "You can't. They're gone."

"They're just somewhere else, don't worry, we will find them."

Looking up at her and nodding emphatically, the child continued, "Yeah they are, I saw them go away. Like magic." The girl's eyes began to well up with tears.

Isabelle had never considered the unthinkable possibility. "You mean, they disappeared?"

Marie finally burst into tears and buried her head into Isabelle's shoulder. It was all Isabelle could do not to begin crying herself.

"I'm gonna disappear, too!" the girl shouted. "They forgot all about me!"

Isabelle stroked her gently and almost whispered, "Shh, everything will be okay. You won't disappear, because I will never forget you."

Marie stepped back and wiped the back of her fist against her runny nose. "Promise?"

Isabelle cupped Marie's face between her hands and looked deep into her eyes. "I promise. And we will find your mom and dad. I promise that, too."

It was getting late, so Isabelle carried Marie to the children's tent, tucking the girl in snuggly and humming a lullaby to help her sleep. Once she was certain the girl had nodded off, she walked to Vindar's tent, where she found him nursing a bruise from battle practice. Tired as he was, his eyes still brightened upon her arrival. His expression fell fast when she collapsed into his arms, losing all her resolve to contain her emotions. She began to sob deeply without explanation.

He seemed to instinctively understand her need to cry without interruption and just comforted her with gentle strokes. After she seemed sated, he finally spoke quietly. "What is it, my love?"

"It's falling apart, Vindar. My life has always been so unhappy, until Sarah, but most of all until I found you. And now the whole world is falling apart, and we're all doomed to misery. I can't bare to think that I will lose everything good just as my life was beginning to show signs of springtime."

Vindar was unusually quiet as he considered his love's words. She had expected him to quickly counter with a cheerful speech, but was strangely comforted that he did not. She sat up and he looked at her deeply, wrapping his long fingers around hers. "It is dark right now. Just as you, I feel so much coming unhinged, and it does frighten me. But I have a feeling that things will end well. Remember that it is this chaos that brought me my mother." His quiet words made him look both smaller and larger to Isabelle than he ever had before, and she felt herself loving him more. Just as everything seemed to be falling from reality, Isabelle felt more solid and real in this moment than she had in a long time. Vindar smiled at her slightly, as if he understood her thoughts. He squeezed her hand tightly. "We'll find our way through this darkness, sweet one, and on the other side the light will seem that much brighter."

Isabelle bent close to hug him, the light warmth of his slender body fending off the cool evening air. He gathered her up against his chest, pulling a nearby blanket around their gently enmeshed bodies as they stared into the depths of the oil lamp, flickering its light across the canvas in soothing patterns.

##

Benedick, Hoggle, Ludo and Rattlebeak sat around a fire, where Benedick was roasting a rabbit on a spit. Ludo looked particularly despondent about the meal, occasionally blurting the words, "Fuzzy friend," and poking his large brown lip out in Benedick's general direction.

"Look, chap, it's the natural order of things. I'm a cat, he's a rodent, it's the way of life. If it makes you feel any better, I didn't particularly enjoy it." He turned the spit a few times, catching himself in the middle of an unconscious licking of his chops before Ludo saw the motion.

Hoggle snorted. "I'm sure you didn't. Except—oh wait—I saw you batting it around with your paws."

"Okay, so I did enjoy it. I'm a cat. It's my nature." He shrugged. "It's like telling you not to call rocks. Or you—," he looked at Hoggle, "not to collect baubles. Which, of course, I'd never dream to do."

Rattlebeak also looked somewhat uncomfortable about the main course. "Anyone got any cake? Muffins? Crackers? I'm not much on the eating of rabbit for dinner. Feels like eating a cousin or something. Not that I love all my cousins."

Eberon walked toward the group, no doubt drawn by the smell of cooking meat. He had been keeping to himself for much of the time, as if he hoped his self-seclusion would help the group forget his treachery.

"No room," Hoggle grunted at him and shifted to fill the one gap around the fire.

Eberon pulled a bottle of brandy from his robes. "I brought something to help keep us warm."

Hoggle's eyes lit up, as did Benedick's. "Well, why didn't you say so?" Hoggle scooted over, instantly reaching out for the bottle. "Always room for a friend."

"Not Ludo friend," Ludo said quietly, giving the elf a stern look.

It didn't take long for Benedick, Hoggle, and Eberon to become somewhat inebriated. Ludo eventually left to get away from the raucous chit chat, Rattlebeak tagging along.

"Don't tell me you really thought Kaleb was on your side," Benedick exclaimed, pointing to Eberon. "You can't be that much of a fool."

"Alliances are not friendships. I expect treachery from everyone, and friendship from no one."

Hoggle snorted and crossed his arms. "Yeah, well, you gets what you gives."

"I was a great king for my time!" Eberon declared angrily.

"A great doofus!" Benedick shouted. "You should count yourself lucky that Sage and his wife have been reunited! I heard of what you did to them. It's unspeakable. In fact, I can barely stand to look at you." He emphasized the statement by walking away from the fire entirely and going to his tent to rest.

"It wasn't right," Eberon mumbled. "Humans and elves do not belong together."

"You're a damned fool," Hoggle spat. "You've seen their son. He's a fine boy. You en't got no right to judge who gets to love who."

Eberon fumed quietly, but did not leave.

"I think you're just jealous 'cause no one loves you like Marlena and Sage love each other. I think you don't know how to treat friends, so you's just makes enemies. And I think you'd better change yer story if you ever wanna have a future when this is all over. Trust Hoggle on this one." Hoggle stood up shakily and dusted his pants off. As he was leaving, he turned around one last time to deliver his final words.

"Git over yerself."

##

"I thought I might find you here." Kaleb entered the room on the thirteenth floor freely, the chain from his leash hanging limply in his hand.

Sarah's eyes were cold and distant as she stared into the large amethyst stone at the center of the room. She had been there several hours, plunging her mind into its depths, trying to understand how she could further merge with it, make its powers completely hers. To control everything without effort, to reach out her tendrils of influence further, bring back the lost cities, be greater than the mortal she was. She knew the secret lie somewhere in its murky depths, that it was trying to tell her something, to help her be something better, stronger. To never be hurt again, to never lose anything again.

Kaleb pranced before her carelessly. "Seems that you've made a better friend than me." He smiled evilly, snapping his fingers before her transfixed face to see if she'd flinch. She did not.

"Interesting thing about being a slave," Kaleb started casually as he paced a ring around the stone, "is that you often think you are the one in control."

Sarah broke her trance and shot him a look, cautiously eyeing the leash that hung from his hand.

"Funny thing about being a slave," he continued, "is that you start to like it somewhere along the way." He bent close and entwined his fingers within hers. "People always wonder about the condition of the slave, the indignity. And there's no denying, it is degrading. You hate yourself. But then, there's a big dream of escape... or, at the very least, the joy of suffering. If you like that sort of thing."

In and out he moved his fingers between hers. He lifted a leg over her legs and straddled her, wrapping the chains about her neck casually. He made no real sexual advances, but she seemed engrossed by his words.

"You like the suffering, Sarah," he whispered. "You are a drama queen, and a drama queen can have no joy without misery. No dignity without indignity. I know this, because I am the only one who understands you, understands what you really feel." He brushed his fingers through her hair gently.

"You're free," she said, her level of distraction so high that she did not seem to care. Or perhaps, she wasn't surprised.

"I always have been. Well, since you brought me here." He caressed her face, the face of his captor, his savior.

"Do you think you are the one in control?" she said, cocking her head to the side slowly, an deconstructing look on her face.

"I've always been the one in control, my lovely one." As he brushed his fingers in her hair from his position on her lap, he bent closer and closer, sinewy in his motion. Then he roughly pulled her hair so that her head craned back, a short gasp of surprise falling from her lips. He sneered as he spoke into her ear. "You don't know what it's like being a shadow. Not the way you think you do. Living in the darkness, only having the awareness your counterpart can bring to you, only living to watch them. And then you think you are free, but the trap is worse, because the hope of escape is there, the hope of your own identity."

She struggled slightly against his rough handling, which only seemed to anger him more. He ripped the collar off his neck then pulled back more of her hair with his other hand. Her lips parted with the stretching of her skin, her eyes half-closed and focused on him.

"And then, just when you think you have your prison under control, things are going smoothly, this little brat comes into the picture, this stupid, prattling teenager who has not one special thing about her, except that someone decided she mattered, decided to pick this lovely little doll out of the heap of the meaningless, and make her the love and queen of poor tormented little Jareth's heart. The gates of heaven open for her, and she doesn't even appreciate it, this little whore who is written about in prophecy, in cute little plays. She's not satisfied with living out her dreams, she needs the whole world under her pointy little boot."

He bit her neck playfully a few moments, then continued his monologue. "Don't get me wrong. I absolutely adore such a successful bitch. The hungriness in you is quite becoming. But you—it is your shadow that I have lived in most, dear Sarah. You gave Jareth hope when there was none, when I could have just taken him as my own, taken his body and made my freedom. I was so close. And then, there was you, this glorious vision of youthful beauty to wake up the tired old man's heart. His soulmate." He gritted his teeth. "Oh, how sweet."

"Jareth never loved me," Sarah said with burning eyes.

Kaleb's laughter shook the room. He rose and pushed her back like a doll in a chair. "You are so stupid." He kicked his chains to the other side of the room. "Of course the buffoon loves you."

"He just wanted to destroy my innocence."

Kaleb shook his finger in the air lightly, chastising. "Oh ho ho no, Love. It was I who wanted to make you have a good reason to pout." He started to approach her, stalking, finally and truly menacing in his approach. He lifted her from the chair violently and shook her, his face red with emotion. "As a matter of fact, I don't know why I have yet to have my way with you... in the way you most deserve. To treat you like the little bitch you are."

Sarah looked at him darkly, wondering why it was that she could let herself take this treatment with such a docile demeanor. Did she really want this? Did she want to be manhandled by him, for him to make the humiliation and pain in her heart real? Did she really want to be humiliated?

She put a hand on his chest, trying to bring forth the energy necessary to push him away, to punish him in a painful way for his behavior. But she couldn't do it. She was too weakened by him, by the man who had no power.

He pushed her down onto a duvet and grabbed a nearby glass of wine. "I think you need some beverage." She fought him while he forced her mouth open and poured it down her throat.

As the liquid fell into her stomach, she knew he was right, that she had wanted more wine. The wine held freedom.

He went to the other side of the room and retrieved a bottle while she watched him intently. He took her chalice and filled it nearly to the brim, smiling at her the whole time. Then, he pulled a small piece of amethyst out of his pocket and dropped it in carefully, swirling it around in the glass. He took a sip and sighed, refreshed. Then he offered it to her roughly.

She took it without hesitation, knowing instantly what he had done to her, and feeling completely powerless to stop herself. She drank greedily until all that was left in the cup was the piece of rock.

"Yes, that's it my Lovely," he cooed. "Drink up. Drink of the chalice of the power you were too human to understand. How could you think that you are really the one who controlled the stone? It was I who unlocked its power. It was I who brought out its true potential. The little brat came along and helped me to get back that which was already mine, and now, now I have to steal it back from her. But maybe I'll let you play with it a little while longer, because I've waited this long, I can share just a bit before your time is up." He took the chalice from her and watched greedily as her eyes clouded over. He then grabbed her from her chair and put her in front of a mirror.

She looked more pale and drawn, close to death. "Look at that lovely face," he whispered as he caressed her cheeks. His own reflection was sketchy, twisting in and out of shadows on the edge. "The face that made my life hell, and brought me back. So long ago, before I was relegated to a life of shadows, I made the amethyst, spent my power in twisting it around. Oh those were the days... It was before the worlds had separated, before people had to put the dreams in their place. Before beings like myself were trapped in their little cages. It was a stone of great light and power, and I twisted it. That is how good I am."

He spun her around and began to dance with her, floating her tired, aimless body around the room in pirouettes. "Now I get to play with the toy I made for myself, finally, after all this time. So, my dear, I love you, and I hate you, and because of this I will make your death a joy. We shall embrace together all that I love in you, until it runs you dry."

Her face was tired, her eyes drunken and distant. But she did manage some words.

"You... have... no power... over me."

Kaleb stopped in his tracks. He looked at her in amazement, then proceeded to laugh like he had never laughed before. "What do you think this is? Another game!" He kissed her wildly. "You are a specimen! My little girl, I am your power! The day you decided to play with the shadows, you gave them rule over you! Don't think that you can be rid of me with those simple words, your little child's story."

She looked up at him. This wasn't who she was, who she had been. She didn't remember exactly who it was she used to be, what the names of the parts and pieces were of her that she had left behind. Was there ever any other part of her? Because she felt no guilt for who she was, only shame. She didn't understand the shame, because there was nothing to contrast it. She felt pain and life in her, full of a rattling fervor, electricity running high in her body with no outlet. It spun and spun within her, getting nowhere, raising her to a useless pitch.

All she wanted now was to be used, used up and left for dead. She wanted to hide in the darkest corner, where she could spend herself alone, where no one could find her. She felt painfully on display, painfully present. There was no escape. It was her duty to be the star of the story, until she fizzled out. That was the way.

The last bit of fight that had been left in her drifted away, and she collapsed into his arms, limp and spent. He sat on the floor, catching her limp body in his lap. He stroked her hair affectionately.

"Yes, yes, that's it, my Love. Just give up. Give in. Now you are beginning to understand."