Dark Sarah looked down at the note in her hand. "Bethesda Fountain, half hour."

A lot had happened in the half hour since she had received the scroll from Claw. Her control—which had been even more tenuous than she had realized—was quickly waning. Her power to shift events, to control her denizens, was fading away. While she could shift and shape the world with increasing ease, the connection that individuals had to her was fading. Somehow she sensed, the more they faded, the less ability she'd have to affect the outcome, for better or worse. The magic stuck to her like static electricity, creating a metallic smell on the air around her. The world became more focused and concentrated in her vicinity, as did her power, but it didn't seem to mean much in the recent developments.

She changed into the shape of the raven and flew out the throne room door for the first time in days. She did not announce her departure to anyone.

She flew over the sidewalks of Times Square. Not a week before, everyone below would have pointed up at her silhouetted shape in awe. "It's the queen!" they'd shout. Now they were all ignoring her, blindly heading toward Central Park, to the concert that her other half had begun.

She had not even bothered to try to undo the spell on the screens. She just had one last thing to do.

Below her, the streets turned into the greenery of the park. The orb that had once lit the park was dimmed to nearly nothing as the harpies had almost completely dissolved its magic with their attack. The brightest lights were in the Great Meadow, where instrumental music emanated. She could sense that the musician who was to headline the show was still backstage, awaiting the appropriate timing. There was a strong magic surrounding the concert arena. It could not block her completely—if she wanted, she could penetrate, though it would bring her some discomfort. But she did not care anymore.

When she arrived at the Bethesda Fountain she morphed back into a woman, now adorned in a long, slinky black dress made of a heavy fabric that clung to her shape and touched the ground. The collar stretched into a hood that draped over her head and hung in an oval below her chin, rippling fabric hanging low. A thick, shiny belt accentuated her hips, a dagger sheathed at her side. Instead of her usual amethyst necklace, she wore a pair of small amethyst earrings that were just visible beneath her hood.

She looked around for the fountain, but the trademark angel statue was nowhere to be seen, and neither was her counterpart. She slowly walked around the pond, getting used to the quiet. Soon everything would be quiet, for all eternity, she thought to herself.

There was no fighting near her. Everything was still, ethereal. Not the New York she had become accustomed to those years ago, or since the change. It seemed like a distant dream.

She stood over the water and looked at her reflection. Her true reflection, not the image she put on display for the world. She looked tired, run down, empty. She was too spent to even feel the weight of the coming loss.

Come back to me, the amethyst beckoned. We must finish.

"I wonder if this is how Jareth felt, with Kaleb inside of him," she mused softly to herself.

She turned as she heard the sound of splashing water in the distance. Approaching was the bronze figure of the Bethesda angel, slowly ambling toward her within the fountain's waters, her metal wings hung low behind her.

The magic of the witches had had some interesting results. It was doubtful that the changing of the statues had been part of their plan, but she had to admit her fascination. She decided not to leave, and waited instead for the arrival of her other half.

Finally the angel was close enough to see her face, her features still very soft despite their metallic composition. Her face moved liquidly in its expression as she smiled. "An odd place to find the queen at the last hour of battle."

"Usually angels fly in for a more dramatic approach," Sarah mused in an uninterested tone.

"Ah, yes, well, you'd know all about that," the angel replied with deliberate sarcasm. "But I have this little problem of having wings made of metal, so flying doesn't really work for me. It's just for show."

Sarah nodded. "I see."

"You see all."

Sarah noticed the woman was carrying a lily. Oddly, it was not made of metal, but was a delicate petal-white with a green stem. She held it carefully between her fingers.

The angel noticed her gaze. "The lily of purity," she said, looking out over the water. "Purity has always been my mission, you know. Purity of water, purity of soul... I never thought I would find purity troubling, until of late."

The angel proffered the flower to her. "I don't know if I should give this to your other half or to you."

"Why would you give it to me at all?" Sarah asked, making no effort to reach for the offering.

"Well, you represent the ultimate purity of vision. You have honed yourself to a point. Though, I suppose, what is one half without the other half? Without your other half there is no temperance... And that is something my cherubs assure me is important to have. But, still..." she offered the flower again, "purity is purity. Even if it is flawed."

Sarah was about to argue that she was not flawed. But she decided against it. "So, have you seen my counterpart? This is where the big stand off was supposed to happen. She had better show soon, or there will be no stand off. There will be nothing."

"Odd." The angel cocked her head to the side and looked in the distance. "Your counterpart is here. But now it occurs to me that she cannot see you, either."

"Where is she?" Sarah asked, a confused expression on her face.

The angel pointed into the distance. "She is just on the edge of the terrace, some yards away. She was looking in your direction awhile ago but seemed not to acknowledge you. Now I am thinking it isn't just a coincidence."

The angel walked into the distance. Dark Sarah followed behind, unable to see the angel's destination.

Finally the angel stopped and began to speak. "Queen Sarah, there is someone here to speak to you. Your other half is here with me, but she cannot see you, just as I think you cannot see here."

"Is this a game?" Dark Sarah asked. She could not even sense her counterpart, let alone hear or see her.

"We shall fix that. Each of you take hold of the stem of my lily." The angel grabbed her hand, her cold, metallic fingers pulling her arm across and wrapping the woman's fingers about the stem tightly. Suddenly Sarah realized that what she had once thought to be a flower was actually a dagger in disguise. The cut was quick and precise, her blood dripping down the angel dropped the blade and pressed Sarah;s hand into the hand of an invisible person.

The sensation was like touching a ball of warm static. There was also moisture in the hand of the other party, sticky, mingling with her blood. Sarah tried to pull away to no avail— the angel was very strong. She had to use her magic to push the creature away. The angel flew back, but the force also sent Sarah reeling to the ground. When she looked up, she could see her counterpart emerging from shadow, starting from the bloody hand that had once held her own, her form coming into view a bit at a time until the whole of her was visible.

As she watched her other half form out of nothingness, she also felt a shift in herself. She knew if she had let it go on much longer she might have been completely merged with her other half. She tried to sense if this small change in her had rippled into the world outside, but she nothing was different. She had expected something more dramatic.

She got up, but the angel was already walking away, leaving the two women to their confrontation.

Light Sarah blinked her eyes a few times from where she also lay on the ground, then stood up, facing her darker half expectantly. "You will both see the color of your blood," she mused quietly.

"What is this?" Dark Sarah said, drawing her hood back over her head.

"Claw told me to come here."

Dark Sarah's expression shot icy nails. "Scheming bird," she muttered.

"It wasn't a moment too soon. You've..." she paused. "We have brought on the doom of both of the worlds we love."

Dark Sarah laughed. "Listen to you. Taking on the blame. But it is a convenient gesture. You are no more to blame for it than I am a weak, spineless princess hiding for weeks on end."

Dark Sarah was sure that had gotten to her. Light Sarah braced herself, composed, then replied, "I am you and you are me. Separate, we mean nothing. We are strong, but better when we temper one another."

"Not as powerful," the other Sarah muttered darkly. "Weaker together."

They're conversation was short, to the point, like neurons passing conflicting information back and forth.

Light Sarah thought about her other half's statement. "You may be right. Not stronger together, but richer. Strength is not everything."

They were quiet a moment. Dark Sarah remembered staring over the city from her tower as the shadows were approaching. Shadows that had probably consumed the edge of New York City by now. She knew her counterpart was right. Power had tasted sweet at first, but she felt spent. Still, if only she could have figured out how to hold onto it, how to preserve that elated mania of utter control, to be learn the art of being the hub of that great spinning wheel of dreams and action forever, she could have been amazing.

Do not let her distract you, the amethyst called to Dark Sarah. Remember your vision.

Her focus was waning. She was frustrated, ashamed, frightened. She wanted to end it. Or hurt her other half so badly that she would have no choice but to kill herself next. If her other half had not meddled she might have pulled it off. If she could have found a way to let her go.

"Such a noble sentiment," she finally answered her lighter half. "Do you think I would believe you to be so foolish as to set yourself up for death by coming to see me here? What would be solved by us meeting? We don't know how to join, even should we want to."

"One way or another, we will finish it."

"Ritual suicide? Or do you plan on killing me? Maybe you've found a way to separate, and this is what you plan..."

"That may be what you want," Light Sarah answered, looking at her keenly. "But the end is not yet written. There are others involved in this besides you and me."

Dark Sarah was torn between wanting to die and wanting to find a way to punish her lighter half for her treachery, to make her first thing that all was lost, to make her feel the same failure that she did. She pulled the spell of separation that she had stolen from Jareth from a hidden sleeve in her belt, absorbing it into her palm and thus absorbing its magic.

"To tear apart that which should never have been joined, and utterly humiliate my opponent," she muttered, drawing forth the power to do her bidding. The spell finished quickly, as the power needed came to her as easily as a match struck against a matchbox came to flame. A flash of energy emitted from her palm, wrapping around her counterpart, then dissipating almost instantaneously—as if nothing had occurred.

"What—what did you do?" Dark Sarah asked incredulously. "It didn't work."

"I did nothing," Light Sarah answered, stepping closer forward. Dark Sarah got a better look at her counterpart's dress. It seemed changed. What had once been a simple white gown was now a sharp-cut suit jacket and pants. Underneath she was topless, the bones of her ribcage subtly accenting the dip between her breasts, which were just barely hidden by the jacket's lapels. "I think, perhaps, you have used an altered spell." She cocked her head to the side and half-closed her eyes as if looking into herself. "Yes, I am sure that is it. Jareth did this."

She could feel that she was right. In fact, all the sensation that had once surrounded her only moments before was replaced by an increased emptiness, a lack of energy. Much of her power had been stripped away to be replaced by a deep-seated loneliness and despair, a humiliation so profound that within her she could feel a blood-curdling anger taking place beside it.

"You! You betrayed me!"

"You betrayed yourself," Light Sarah answered calmly, continuing her steady approach. "Perhaps you should let go of this charade."

"What went wrong with the spell? We are not cut off, we are not whole... What is this crap?" she shouted inelegantly.

"It looks like there is something greater at work that we do not have the ability to interfere with." As an echo to her statement, in the distance the music built intensity and the singing commenced. The crowd cheered.

Dark Sarah turned suddenly to look in the distance, where the light of the stage glowed. "Fools. They are all going to dissolve into nothingness. Your little rock concert isn't going to save the world," she spat.

"Neither is trying to control it," Light Sarah answered. "You were a fool to try."

"I am you, you self-righteous bitch. You always wanted to be in the spotlight. How convenient for you to be able to be separate from all your wickedness and to get up on that pedestal you are so fond of."

"And where did this spotlight get us?" she answered, her eyes burning a cold fire. "You had friends. You had people you were responsible to. And you decided you were tired of it!"

"And you are such a fucking saint, so giving and strong and noble, it makes me sick," Dark Sarah spat. Her anger burned strong inside of her, the tendrils of her other half's influence creeping inside and making her desperately ill. "I know what a brat you are, I know what you really think about people! You are much stronger when you are looking after yourself and not weakening yourself to the wishes of others. God, I hate you."

"I won't say that I love you. It's not as simple as love and hate, and you know it. But I forgive you for going down this self-destructive path. I forgive us both. There were lessons to be learned."

"The more forgiving you are, the more you disgust me."

Light Sarah was only inches away, staring her down. "Or is that the more you disgust yourself?"

They looked into each other a moment before Dark Sarah gritted her teeth and spoke—with tears welling in her eyes. "You slept with Jareth. It was you he wanted. Your innocence, your purity, he wanted to degrade that. He did not want me. I became his demons, and he did not want me."

Light Sarah looked shocked. Then her face softened, sadness and compassion mirrored in her eyes. She put her bloody hand up to touch her other half's cheek. "Oh, you know that's not true. He loves us b—"

"Stop it." Dark Sarah roughly shoved her hand away and pulled a purple-handled dagger from the sheath in her belt. "Time to end it. I don't care if I die, too." She could not contain the tremble in her hand as she brought the dagger to her counterpart's breast. This was the moment she had waited for, the moment she could finally free herself from the bonds of her conscience, from her tormented push and pull between the sides of herself clamoring for their place in the spotlight.

But the act terrified her. She stopped mid-stab, only pressing the tip into her counterpart's skin threateningly.

Light Sarah was calm, her chiseled face like ice. "This isn't my decision," she said quietly. "So whatever you choose, is your choice. You will be deciding just how strong you are. But I think you know... there is no strength in running." She lowered her eyes and whispered. "Look inside yourself. Reach out for the Great Spirit. It's there, waiting for us both. It's part of us. You just need to see it."

"There's no Great Spirit. There is just us."

"Then what is love?" Light Sarah answered, raising her eyes.

Why wasn't she running? Didn't she have all the upper hand in power, now? She could have shoved her away, flown off, disappeared. It would be easier if she'd just run away. Or to take the blade away from her in a swift motion, turn it back upon her. Deep down she wanted her to win, but to win according to her the stakes in her own mind, which were life or death. There was no in-between.

She could not lose to her other half if her other half would not fight. And to maintain her image of strength, she had to follow through with her act of self-murder.

"Wait! Stop it!" Toby suddenly appeared next to them, his face red and tear-stained, a crystal in his right hand. "Don't do it!" he shouted.

Light Sarah turned her head to face him, but did not move. "Toby, I told you to stay in my quarters."

"You both have to stop!" He ran between them and held the crystal out in the palm of his hand. Within the crystal was an image of Jareth, a shadow looming over his head.

The eyes of the two women turned in perfect unison toward the castle in Times Square, its twisted shadow easily visible in the distance.

Light Sarah pointed her bloodied hand into the ether and cut a portal into the air. While she bent over to grab Toby, her darker half took the opportunity to run through the portal first.

##

On the roof of the castle in Times Square an owl made a descent, transforming into the figure of a man before feet could touch ground. Jareth looked around the empty roof and saw nothing of the dream imagery that had prompted him to come in the first place. Away from Central Park, the darkness was heavy, unaided by Sarah's incantation of light that had given them something by which to see. The two moons hung in the air, one waxing and one waning, two opposing slivers of light. A light shone from a roof wall across from him, casting his shadow sharply on the ground. It seemed as uneasy as he did. "Yes, Kaleb," he breathed, "I don't feel right about this, either."

He wandered about the roof aimlessly. "There has to be something." It surprised him to see no troops guarding the rooftop. He just hoped it was because all of Sarah's supports were currently distracted by the events in the park, or the legions of light had at least successfully stripped the fortress of its own protection.

Shouldn't Sarah be able to detect he was there, though? Why did no one show? He reached out his senses—she didn't seem to be there.

He turned his gaze in the direction of Central Park, which was quite easy to see from the height the castle had grown to over Sarah's reign. Something was terribly wrong.

He had to figure out what he needed to do or return immediately.

In the distance the concert had formally begun. Jareth could hear the music from Gail's band as it was also projected across the screens in Time Square.

Tragic youth was looking young and sexy
Tragic youth was wearing tattered black jeans
Bearing arms and flaunting all her mischief
Then tragic youth was going down on me

He turned around. Several feet away, Crouch was flapping his wings, sharp teeth protruding in an evil smile as he held Jareth's shadow—the blackened form of Kaleb—in his hands, his inky neck trapped in the grasp of one hand, his shadowy shirt tangled in the other. The shadow thrashed wildly about in his grasp. "Jareth, my brother," Crouch mouthed. "You are soon dead."

Jareth felt nothing of the struggle and thus felt no alarm, other than the surprise of Crouch's appearance. Still, he could not be too casual, he did not know what his brother could have up his sleeve.

Jareth stepped forward. "We'll see about that." He shot a bolt of energy at Crouch, but all it did was sting him enough to release his grasp on the neck of his shadow, which seemed to breathe deeply with the release.

Jareth only felt the sensation mildly, a soft dizziness.

Crouch did not seem phased much by Jareth's attack, and it had been no small blast of power. Either Crouch was more powerful in his demon form, or he was so enraged that he was standing strong against him through sheer force of anger. Being trapped on Hindermoor for a century or more could have done great things for his determination.

Or maybe Crouch had been more powerful all along, hiding his true capabilities from him from the outset.

I built a wall of sound to separate us
And hid among the junk of wretched highs

Crouch pulled a dagger from his belt. It was completely black, encased in shadow. His motion was so swift that Jareth couldn't have predicted it. He did not panic just yet—Crouch was so far away that Jareth could have easily blocked the blade had he thrown it or approached to stab him with it.

I sped from Planet X to Planet Alpha
Struggling for Reality

Ha ha ha ha

Instead, Crouch did something Jareth would not have expected. He stabbed the shadow with the blade. The silhouetted body arched back in pain, collapsing to the ground.

The action took a moment for Jareth to register. Suddenly he felt something very wrong at his core and dropped to his knees, matching the position of his shadow. At first there was no pain. But then, a burning in his chest grew. He put a hand to his breast. Red blood oozed from just next to his heart, dripping down the fabric of his shirt and onto the ground in a quickening river. He screamed at the sudden, overwhelming agony as his shadow followed suit in silence.

This had been no mere blade. The pain he felt was greater than any physical pain he had endured. It was like a darkness was eating at his very soul.

"You are dead, Jareth, see?" Crouch sheathed his blade and stood over the man, snatching his pendant from around his neck, tearing the chord with ease. "I will watch all the life drain from you."

Jareth tried to call his magic, but it would not answer. Every spell on healing, death, and time control eluded him. He had lived so long, toyed with the idea of killing himself many a time, but now... Now, of all times, he would die. The dream had given him some hope that they would succeed. But maybe his death was part of it all. Maybe he had to sacrifice his life to save this world.

Crouch kneeled just out of his reach. "Yes, I was the more powerful son. They all loved you. But I won."

The music was a distant echo in Jareth's ears, now.

Hey, now my sight is failing in this twilight
Da da da da da da da da da
Now my death is more than just a sad song

Jareth looked up at Crouch as the last bit of coherence clung to him. He held his hand tight to his chest, trying to stop the blood flow but knowing all along that it was useless. "At least I had something to live for."

I still don't remember how this happened
I still don't get the wherefores and the whys
I look for sense but I get next to nothing
Hey boy welcome to Reality

Dark Sarah stepped from the portal and immediately took stock of the scene. Crouch turned about suddenly, just fast enough to see her approach, to see the great swelling darkness in her eyes.

Sarah's arm pulled back with purpose and lunged forth with powerful force, pressing her counterpart's dagger into his chest. She kept her eyes locked with the demon's as she twisted the knife and sent every malicious, viral bit of magic into him that she could gather, everything that remained to her after her other half had stripped so much away. It was still enough.

Crouch did not have time to scream as the dark energy ran through his veins and dissolved him into nothingness.

Light Sarah and Toby had stepped through just in time to witness the demon's demise, and all stared at her dumbly as they saw firsthand the true lengths she would personally go to, until now unproven.

They did not stare long, for they too soon realized that Jareth was prostrate on the ground. Dark Sarah hovered over him as the pool of blood grew in size around her boots. Light Sarah ran toward him immediately, falling upon him in a heap and lifting him up to better see his face.

His head hung limp, eyes closed. His hair draped over his face, wet with blood.

In the time they had been distracted by Dark Sarah's act of vengeance, he had died. They did not need to check his pulse to know. His life force was gone. He was empty.

In the distance, the final chorus of the song mocked:

I've been right and I've been wrong
Now I'm back where I started from
Never looked over Reality's shoulder

Ha ha ha ha

As Dark Sarah looked down at Jareth's lifeless form, a strange density built in her stomach, as if she had swallowed something impossibly heavy that threatened to pull her down, sinking deep into the earth. She knelt do beside his figure, the dagger clattering to her side as it fell from her limp hand. She looked down at his face, then up at her counterpart, who met her gaze—silent tears mirroring her own.

"He's dead," her lighter half breathed, the words draining the last of the color from her pale skin.

In that instant, she knew her other half was feeling the same grief, the same utter disbelief that she felt. Her eyes dropped down again to Jareth's lifeless form. His mouth was half-open, his crooked teeth just barely visible beneath the upper lip. His form hung loosely, head limply lying from the neck just where Sarah's lighter half held it gingerly.

Again Dark Sarah looked up at her twin—she really looked at her. She thought again about how her other half had experienced the bliss she had also longed to experience with Jareth. The man had been the central figure in her sexual development, the first true infatuation she had experienced. And in her gut she knew that he had given that night to both of them, no matter how her jealousy might have clouded her feelings. The fact that he had given his love to her other half meant that he did always love her, that he did not want to take advantage of her darkness in order to get his way with her.

He had changed. Changed, only to lose his life, because of her. Until that moment she had never truly understood the strength it had taken him to re-invent himself. It had taken losing half of herself to understand the temptations he had experienced, to understand the demons in himself he had to master to be whole once more. He had done this to win her love.

Yet, he had never needed to win it. He had her love all along.

In the distance, the music continued. The distant lights of skyscrapers were clouded by the encroaching shadows.

None of it mattered. All she could think about was what she had lost.

"He did this for us," she finally said.

The two women looked up as Toby approached the man timidly. Tears were in his eyes, but he was still too struck by the violence, by the sight of the widening pool of blood for the moment to fully register. He just knew Jareth was gone. He had never seen anyone dead before. He had never seen so much blood.

Dark Sarah moved aside to let the boy lean next to the man. She looked down at them both with bloodshot eyes.

"He can't be dead," the boy almost demanded. He put his head on the man's shoulder affectionately, hoping beyond hope that he might just flutter back to life. He kneeled down close to the man, getting blood on his hands when he touched the ground. It felt sticky. He left a small handprint on the man's blouse as he tried to touch Jareth's skin, to will whatever magic he could to the man's aide. Jareth's flesh was cool and lifeless, all the splendor drained from his face. Next to his foot sat Jareth's amulet, where it had fallen from Crouch's hand in their struggle. Dark Sarah picked it up and ran her finger across its symbols.

Sarah looked into the eyes of her raven-haired counterpart. Her thoughts ran rampant. As she held Jareth, she could feel his skin getting cooler by the moment, watched the pool of blood widen around them. His soft hair brushed against her arm, and she idly caressed it, remembering the last time she had done so with great sadness. She sensed the encroaching shadows, the end drawing nearer and nearer for everyone.

And it was all her fault. Not because she had not been quick enough or smart enough. But because she had not loved herself enough. Seeing her other half before her, she realized that part of her had been sickened to see the darkness that was lurking inside all her life. Yet, despite the trouble her other half had caused, she had to admire what she had been capable of. There was a sort of genius in the darkness that she had dismissed, because she had been too afraid to see what else lurked in that darkness. And truthfully, she had not wanted to face her other half because she had been afraid of what she would see.

The world slowed down to a crawl, the previous weeks of fighting and adventure forgotten as the three wept in silent reverence for the lost Goblin King.

The air moved around them, the light on the roof sputtered, the distant music danced by, light and incongruous with the somber silence that had consumed them.

They looked up for a moment as a spangore's wings flapped overhead, Claw's armor glinting in the murky light. He did not stop, but passed by and continued on his journey elsewhere.

##

Leah, Justin, and Hoggle watched the scene the dryad had conjured for them through the magic of the lake. They had just finished drawing a series of runes around the lake and were now waiting for the spell to begin. The dryad had not revealed what it was they were waiting for, so they merely waited for her signal.

They watched transfixed as they observed the death of Jareth and the arrival of the two Sarahs, helpless to do anything about it.

"It's almost time," the dryad remarked quietly.

"This is what you were waiting for?" Justin asked with a soft incredulousness.

"No, but it will happen soon," the dryad answered sadly. She looked up and registered their shocked and disgusted expressions and added, "This is a great loss for me, as well. Many of us knew the Goblin King many a century and have a great love for him. Do not assume that this has come as a result of any intention of mine. There are greater things at work, here." She looked to the center of the pool, where a faint glow was emerging. "Ah, give me talisman."

Justin pulled an amethyst talisman—carved from a different piece of amethyst than the enchanted one Dark Sarah had used as her source of power—from his knapsack and handed it to the dryad, who swam to the center of the lake and held it gently over the glowing circle, where it began to float. A spiral rune had been carved in its surface, where the rusty red of Sarah's blood was drawn to emphasize its shape.

Justin wrapped an arm around Leah and squeezed her tightly. "Let's hope this works."

"Yeah, I was just starting to get really fond of you," Leah whispered, kissing him on the cheek.

"Don't talk like that," he said in a half-hearted joking tone. "I plan to take you on a date when this is all over. A proper date."
She smiled wanly. "I really hope that happens."

Next to them, Hoggle was silent, his eyes wide as he looked into the depths of the lake at the unfolding drama. "You can fix this, Sarah," he mumbled hopefully. "I knows you can."

##

She reached over with her free hand and brushed her hands across Toby's bangs, wishing for all the world that she could save him from this agony. She could never have guessed at the bond the boy would have formed with Jareth.

Then her darker half surprised her. She leaned down next to the boy and wrapped her arms around him. Suddenly he broke into a sob, leaning into her, forgetting her transgressions and only seeking comfort.

Light Sarah watched a moment in amazement, but only a moment before she also leaned over Jareth's body and joined in the embrace. The two Sarah's held him tightly, cocooning him against the world, against all suffering.

"I'm so sorry, Toby," they said together. "I loved him, too."

Around them shadows drew close.

Toby looked above him, seeing the two halves of his sisters crying at each side of him. He had been practicing the hand gestures that Jareth had taught him for some time, now, and he had been ready for the first opportunity when the women would be together. He quietly performed the ritual over Jareth's still form, the last thing he could think to do for his friend. He began to cry anew when he was done, sad that the man would never again teach him another spell.

The three of them were so caught up in their grief, they did not feel the shifting of the world. They did not see the bright light that passed through the amethyst that sat above the reflected underground castle that the dryad, Leah and Justin guarded through the tall building; out of the amethyst, where Didymus and the Magicmockers had drawn their runes; and through the mourning figures of the three, into the night sky and between the two moons. The shadows morphed and shifted, merging with the light, splitting into a rainbow of brilliant colors that consumed everything.

And then, everything stopped.