Didymus' plan to follow the wolf had not gone well so far. It appeared that the caverns that the wolf lived within were actually a labyrinth all their own. While Didymus had much experience with the old labyrinth in Sunset City, this one was completely new to him, and even more wicked in its tendency to twist and morph endlessly in a further disturbance to his quest.

He finally pulled out the map and compass apparatus that he had been sent with, in case he got lost. The compass was actually a magical device from Aboveground that created a small light to show where one was within the map. Marlena had additionally enchanted it so that it might reflect any changes to the environment, as it had been certain the castle would continue to change as it had over the previous weeks.

Rattlebeak sat on Didymus' shoulder as the fox evaluated the tiny device in his hand. It had been much easier to manipulate before he had made his transformation, but his added bulk had been such a convenience when dealing with the wolf, and since he wasn't sure where the wolf had gone to he was happy to stay as he was, even if it did mean he would have to continue to struggle with the buttons on the little machine.

"Is it just me, Brother, or is the chamber not on the other side of this wall?"

Rattlebeak nodded. "I think you're right. But we've had this happen a bunch of times already. No matter which way we go, it's always on the other side! We'll never make it at this rate." He crossed his wings, pouting. "Sarah's just messin' with us."

"Indeed, it would seem so my Brother." The fox collapsed against the wall. It hurt his bottom more than it ever had before. He just wasn't used to the extra weight. "I cannot believe that Sarah, even if she is the darker half of my lady, would send such a brute as that wolf to greet me upon my arrival."

"That was a pretty nasty thing to do," Rattlebeak agreed. "Did you see the size of those choppers? And all the blood..."

Didymus shivered. "I didst see it, my brother. Thanks to you and the others, I will not pass the evening as his dinner."

The fox got an idea. "Rattlebeak, canst thou not cast another spell to get us through the wall?"

Rattlebeak shook his head. "Sorry. It's her magic, it's too strong for us." He put a wing to his beak and thought for a moment. "But, you know, we can send a message to the others."

Didymus thought it over. He didn't relish the idea of letting his queen down in his mission, and he had no doubt that everyone else was currently busy with the battle. Who could he ask for help?
"Rattlebeak, would you call my brother, Sir Ludo? I know that he can help us. He is brave and strong."

Rattlebeak flew to greet his friends in the adjoining chamber, calling back to Didymus, "I'll see what I can do!"

##

Jareth had contacted the others as planned. He found the bridle path that led down to Sheep Meadow, passing a number of battalions mobilized toward the battlefield on his way. As he approached Summit Rock, he could hear a loud noise in the distance, closer to the battle. He moved the horse from a trot to a gallop and rode toward the sound, closing in on Strawberry Fields. Just as the trees parted and gave him a view of the grassy knoll, he was rewarded with an astonishing view.

The Statue of Liberty had just sat down in the middle of the field, carefully choosing the one spot that was clear of statued enemies. On her shoulder sat Ingeborg the fellwit. His brow slanted bitterly.

As he began to ride closer to the statue, he saw that many forces were either gawking at the sight or giving up their journey entirely to witness the strange event. He waved and shouted to those nearby, commanding them to return to the battle. For those who did not listen or hear, he sent them away through the power of suggestion. Within moments they all forgot how absurd it was to see Lady Liberty in the middle of Central Park and moved on to the absurdity of fighting their mystical enemy in the middle of Central Park.

Keeping pace, he concentrated his magic upon the horse he rode, bending muscles, tendon and bone to transform her into the form of Pegasus. As her new wings stretched out to either side and grew to full span, she flapped and took to the air, approaching Ingeborg, who seemed in rapt conversation with the giant statue.

"Ingeborg!" Jareth shouted as he came within earshot. "What are you and your manipulative master up to, now?"

Ingeborg first looked sheepish, then angry. "First of all, he was never my master. I graced the fool with my affections, I was absolutely not his servant. Secondly, neither he nor I are up to anything. I've parted ways with him. I've no more patience for his antics."

Jareth arched a brow at her, the beating wings of Pegasus causing his hair to move with the gusts of wind. "I suppose that a collaboration with Lady Liberty does not qualify as antics?"

The statue turned her head to Jareth, then cleared her throat to politely interrupt them.

Jareth nodded to her. "Pardon my manners, dear lady. My name is Jareth."

"Lady Liberty. You can call me Fifi," she said with a smile.

He gave her a short bow. "Pleased to make your acquaintance. Your reputation precedes you." He nodded to Ingeborg. "Lady Ingeborg's reputation also precedes her. I must caution you that she may not be all she seems."

Fifi laughed heartily, her French accent giving her speech a bubbly quality. "Nonsense! Ingeborg has been telling me of your conflict, and I have been listening with great interest."

"Indeed?" Jareth was more than a little skeptical, but the curious turn nonetheless caught his interest. "Please do tell, Ingeborg, what is the nature of the conflict you have described?"

"Don't be an idiot," she snapped. "I'm on your side. I've told her of the mess that Crouch—I mean, Jeremiah has created. I want to help clean it up."

"I suppose that you have neglected to tell our guest of your role in this... mess?"

Fifi took the chance to chime in. "Oh no, Ingeborg has shared her culpability with me, she has been immensely apologetic, in fact. She assures me that she did not mean things to go as far as they have."

That may have been true. As unquestioning to Jeremiah's intent as Ingeborg may have always been, she didn't really ever strike Jareth as one demented enough to desire the end of the physical world. But if Ingeborg was here, then where was Jeremiah?

"So, Ingeborg, I suppose you cannot tell me Jeremiah's whereabouts. Surely he is perpetrating some evil on behalf of our enemy that will cause us great struggle, and it would delight me immeasurably to thwart him in the act."

"I can tell you exactly where he is. And I assure you, he won't be troubling you any this century or the next."

Her specific delineation of time intrigued him. "Century?"

"I've sent him back to my world." She seemed mutually proud and saddened by the admission.

A wicked grin played on Jareth's lips. "Well, now, that is interesting. Remind me never to cause you to scorn me."

"It's too late for that," she grinned.

Jareth looked over his shoulder. "The battle beckons. Dear Fifi, do you think you would be able to help us in our conflict? The war is all but won, but a helping hand would not be looked down upon. And your size would be a definite advantage for us."

Fifi looked in the distance, able to see the conflict with ease. Her copper eyes betrayed a sadness. "I will have to think on it, friend. I never liked wars. And, strangely enough, I cannot decide whose side I agree with."

Jareth was truly taken aback by the comment. She had always been such a straightforward symbol in American society, that he had almost expected a simplistic, jingoistic view from her. "Tell me, what is your reasoning?"

She looked away, her crown sparkling in the mystical sunlight they had manifested to see over the park. She planted her torch into the ground below so that it might continue to burn while she took the moment to relax and share her thoughts.

"Have you ever ridden a ferry through the New York Bay, Jareth?"

He nodded. "Twice. Once more than a century ago, and again less than twenty years ago. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, then you know how things used to be... So many people would sail past, their eyes gleaming with hope as they huddled together for warmth, so excited by the prospects of their new home... Our home. Yes, things were not perfect even then, and I knew this. But when the plaque was first put upon my foundations, that phrase so many had come to know... Well, it filled me with great pride. Perhaps I had once been a French woman, but I took very seriously my duties to this country."

Her head hung low as she continued. "Now, this is a country full of fear, many despise the foreign, the frightened, hopeful people who might make a life here. And the faces I see are not filled with light or awe. The faces are different, some blasé, some hope still remains, but I see a strain. And I have had much time to think about it, you see...

"What I see in the eyes of those who pass is a lost dream. So few dare to dream. And it is this that troubles me more than the idea of blinking out of existence. For what is existence worth without a dream?"

Jareth oddly found himself touched by the statue's speech. "Your words give me pause, dear lady." A tension filled him, and he became painfully aware of his absence from the battle field. "Make me a promise, then, if you will. Do not act, yet, for either side. Consider your decision fully, and see if we cannot convince you in the next hours that reality is worth the fight."

She nodded and smiled. "You are a true gentleman, Jareth. I will consider your proposition."

Jareth turned to Ingeborg. "Well, since my brother is out of the way, would you care to join me on the battlefield?"

Ingeborg didn't hesitate in joining him in flight. "What's this? Jeremiah is your brother?"

"You're not the only one who is surprised by this news, trust me," he answered. "I have to say, I am impressed by how ably you dealt with him."

"Well, he's a sneaky bastard. I wouldn't get too comfortable, there's no telling who he's manipulated to get himself out of trouble this time."

##

John charged to the head of the group, and pointed into the distance with his needle. "Off to war, my friends!" he shouted gleefully. The guinea pigs and mice marched forth with a cacophony of happy squeals. Some groups headed out with only their needles (knit and crotchet alike), with many following behind, carrying huge balls of yarn and string on their shoulders in groups of four and six.

"Put your backs into it, lads!"

On the periphery, some of the feline soldiers watched bits of loose string trailing behind the rodents. It was unclear if they were more interested in the string or the mice. Nonetheless, they returned their focus to the fight with ease, their civilized qualities winning the battle over their catlike whims.

At a hill across from the rodent surge a number of elves—including Sage, Vindar, and Eberon—had moved into a throng of goblins and trolls and were making short work of them. "Seems like we keep getting into this position, aye Son?" Sage quipped to Vindar as they brushed past one another.

Vindar finished the incantation and thrusting of his staff, turning one more goblin to stone. "Surprisingly enough, it never gets old. Poor goblins just don't stand a chance." A troll lunged at him with a mace, and he quickly unsheathed his sword and stabbed it through the heart. "I never had much against trolls, it's a shame to have to kill them," he mused, breathing heavily after his exertion.

Eberon was within ear-shot of the conversation. "Trolls are disgusting, that's just one less effrontery to my eyes to have to concern myself over."

Just as he said that, a couple of larger goblins assaulted him from a tree overhead. Before they could stab him with their little knives, Vindar beat them off with his staff, chanting, "Incohere calx!" Sage casually rode next to Eberon, warning, "If we took to killing every creature we found an affront to our senses, you wouldn't have survived that attack."

Vindar watched the men, uncertain of his own feelings about the elf king and the history he had discovered between him and his father.

Obviously angered by Sage's words, Eberon stormed off into the forest without a thank you.

Vindar rode off away from his father, to take care of a few enemy creatures that were giving some of their forces trouble near the perimeter of the wood. He rounded a few trees, and before he could come to their aid, he was suddenly surrounded by thirty or so creatures that had been hiding in and behind the trees. He fought those closest to him, but the numbers were so great as to potentially overwhelm him. Many had weapons and it was sure that he would not be quick enough to best all of them.

A voice called from the east, yelling an old elfin war-cry. Suddenly Eberon was fast upon the circling group, turning them to stone left and right. He called out to Sage, who turned from his own fight to see the trouble in the distance. He rode as fast as he could, but there was little need once he finally arrived, as the two elves had made short work of the throng together.

Just as they took care of the remaining fighters, Eberon and Sage exchanged looks. Eberon thought of the half-elf boy and wondered what had caused him to come to his aid with so little hesitation. The boy was everything he stood against. Yet, he wasn't. He was a great fighter, and had saved him only moments ago.

Whether or not he liked to admit it, he knew he owed a far greater debt to Vindar than he could ever repay. A small act of courage would not even begin to do. He had taken the boy's mother from him, and he had grown into a strong man despite it. He would have made an excellent knight at his table.

He turned to look at Vindar, who nodded quietly as if to acknowledge his thoughts. "You and I are now even, elf king. Let us both be careful how we tread from here."

With that, he rode away across the field, leaving Sage and Eberon to exchange one more meaningful glance before riding away together.

A tremendous feeling of pride washed over Sage. His son had turned out a greater man than even he.

##

Benedick had relinquished his post at the Arsenal to join his own kind in the battle. While most of the felines who had joined the cause were actually from Aboveground, they seemed to recognize him as their king without any question. He led a surge of troops in the southeast to cut off some of the goblin guard coming in from the path near the Mall.

The hill to the northeast had been fairly quiet during most of the battle, but suddenly a surge of enemy troops came swarming in from that direction. Benedick called some forces to come into formation in preparation for an attack, but first he tried to get a handle on their strategy.

At first the enemy seemed to be chanting a war cry, but it soon became apparent that they were fleeing in fear. Just as they ran into the valley, the guinea pigs and mice crested the hill behind them, holding knitting needles victoriously above their heads. Within moments, a perfectly-coordinated onslaught of rodents had diverted to surround the group on all sides, then filtered into the group in a ten-pointed star formation.
From there they began to knit and crochet at such a speed as to be rendered nearly invisible. When they were done, the entire approaching army had become trapped in a mess of string that resembled an enormous and elaborate spider's web.

John the pig crawled to the top of one of the larger of the goblins and shouted, "We shall knit our way to victory, lads!"

Even the most anti-rodent cats had to nod in appreciation at their feat.

##

Albert and Wonggu had meandered through the park, carefully avoiding any areas where fighting was happening. The greatest contribution either had made to the battle was to quietly climb a tree when they noticed the enemy approaching and to shoot enchanted darts at them from their hideaways among the foliage. Once they could tell the coast was clear, they'd climb back down and continue their exploration of the massive park. They had done all they could to help train the other warriors in how to carry on with the battle, but they otherwise had no interest in fighting themselves.

They finally found a large cluster of climbable rocks in a quiet part of the wood and proceeded to crawl their way to the top, where they sat and spent the time whittling and eating some rations from their bag.

"Whaddya think, Albert? This all go back to normal when said and done?" Wonggu asked after a few moments of silence.

Albert seemed to think it over for a minute then nodded. "Normal as dese 'mericans be. 'shame, I think I like better way things be now. 'cept th'fightin', a'course."

"Mebbe we should be movin' to the U.S.," Wonggu said thoughtfully.

"You kiddin'? Dese people nuts even when no magic t'blame. I be stayin' home."

##

Sarah could see almost everything from her womb within the amethyst. She watched the rebellious groups outside of the park and sent a fleet of goblins and trashlings to confront them with a mere thought. She surveyed the slow dissolution of her troops within the park, and the arrogance of Jareth and his companions as they rode through the battle, behaving as if they thought themselves heroes.

She could have easily have made an appearance any number of times to confront Jareth while he was in isolation, but her duty was here, overseeing the fight. She would find her moment. Until then, she watched in sickly-amused silence as he pranced about the field on his horse, playing the part of the handsome, brave prince.

"You'll see soon," she muttered to herself.

##

Granen had stopped his horse under a bough of trees at the north end of Sheep Meadow and was watching the activity. Jareth sidled up next to him to join him in observing the view.

The enemy forces had been greatly diminished, and with very little lost on their own side. The stone spell had proven very effective in battle, as the enemy was instantly prevented from further damage to their flanks as a result of each casting. Normally a warrior would have more opportunity to cause damage if the wound were not a fatal one.

"It looks like we may have taken the field," Jareth commented. "No telling what troops are hiding in the rest of the park, we can get a count from Sarah once this is wrapped up."

Granen smiled and patted Jareth on the back. "Tis a good day." As he rode back into the field, he shouted, "It's a piece of cake!"

Jareth stood cold. Those words jarred a memory in him, an unnerving one at that. He had a very bad feeling all of a sudden.

He looked out upon the field. Benedick, Sage, and Eberon were standing in the middle of a sea of statues, thrusting their staffs high in the air in a movement of success. No enemy forces were moving on the field. The troops erupted in a shout of joy that spread across the field like wildfire.

And then, the sound.

At first it was no more than a whine, a sort of low, uncomfortable murmur in the distance, like the approaching of a jet plane or a train. It built and built, louder and louder, until the troops stopped in their merriment to listen. As it came closer it began to sound more like a pack of dogs howling in pain, or a throng of dying children.

With the sound came a cloud of figures flying, their tattered garments and long stringy hair blowing in the wind behind them.

A sea of harpies was swarming over the battlefield.

Before anyone could build up the energy to panic, a throng of harpies set upon the false sun and flew about it, blocking the light with their own bodies. It did not dilute the light entirely, but it did severely darken the park, leaving it shrouded in a light not too unlike a murky, rainy dusk.

Just as the panic started to spread, the shrill women descended upon the surrounding woods and each pulled something from her cloak, a little shadow released into the wild. The shadow creatures were small and furtive, moving from dark shadow to dark shadow like cockroaches scurrying in and out of view as they traveled across the terrain. Wherever they encountered an unsuspecting soul, they consumed them, bringing a red fire into their eyes as they converted their aims to ones more in line with their own. Soon the shadow-consumed troops began to awaken with a new purpose, moving upon their former allies with wicked intent.

Jareth shouted to the nearby troops to stay out of the way of the shadows, and to recreate their formations, to ignore their fear and push on. Despite his attempts to control their anxiety through words and magic, some had a fright too thorough to contain. Many of those who ran to the surrounding woods for escape found themselves soon converted to a minion of darkness.

He turned toward Granen and shouted across the field. "Get the dragons here, now!"

Just when he thought it couldn't get any worse, a series of portals opened up throughout the field and woods, and hundreds of trolls and other large mystical creatures that had no name trundled through, large weapons in hand and claw. Demonic creatures like scaly elephants joined them, making such horrific noises as to cause nervousness in the most adamant of warriors.

Jareth's fears had been confirmed. Sarah's darker counterpart had only given them this moment of success to toy with them. Now she was going to show them what she really had in store.

Isabelle watched the mirrors with the little girl Marie and Damion at her side. Behind them were gathered a number of other members of the court. She had stepped into the room to make preparations for the dinner of a number of the children she was keeping watch over when the scene on the battlefield began to unfold.

Her heart tightened in her chest as she watched the harpies and other creatures descend upon the park.

"Oh dear, goodness me," Damion said, trembling.