| The stone walls rose high around the king as he looked left and right. ‘It doesn’t look that far.’ The words echoed in his head. “It’s further than I think,” he said out loud. “Well then I have thirteen hours to reach Sarah Williams before I lose my magic over mortals forever. Won’t get there standing still.” Jareth took his first steps. It felt odd, not using his magic to drop in and out of wherever in the Labyrinth he chose. Instead he plugged along, the heals of his boots clicking off the stone beneath his feet. By the end of his first hour, Jareth had yet to come across any secret passage ways that would take him deeper through the Labyrinth. “Insane,” he shouted. “Please don’t shout!” Jareth’s head turned left and right searching for the source of the request. “Who said that?” “Down here.” At his feet there was a snow white bunny rabbit. No larger than an average cat he sat there staring up at Jareth, two pink eyes surrounded by tufts of white fur. “A bunny!” “Correction,” small lips beneath a twitching nose formed the words, “I’m not just a bunny. I am the bunny, the Easter Bunny and these ears are very sensitive.” “What are you doing in my Labyrinth?” “Your highness, if I were you, I would stop taking for granted that you can accomplish all things without the assistance of others.” “And if I were you, I would stop wasting my time,” Jareth told him. “Suit yourself,” the bunny shrugged. “Gandor sent me to help you in your journey though the maze, but if you don’t need my help, I’ll just go back to the coop and keep getting ready for next year.” “Gandor. The representative of the southwestern sector?” “Do you know some other Gandor?” the rabbit was already hoping away from the king. “Why would Gandor send anyone to help me?” Jareth wondered aloud. Still hopping away, the rabbit said, “Beats me. He said something about things here being a lot better with you not being so preoccupied.” “Really.” Jareth ran a gloved finger across his chin. “Well then rabbit, lead on, by all means.” “Hope you can keep up.” He hopped away at lightning speed, leaving Jareth running behind him at his best pace still barely able to keep the creature in his sights. After nearly a mile of hard running, the two stopped before an urn in the corner of one of the Labyrinth’s dead ends. “A lot of good you’ve done me!” Jareth growled between gasps to replenish his oxygen supply. “Have faith Goblin King,” the bunny replied. “Crawl inside the urn and follow the ladder to the bottom. If you can make it through the hall of riddles, you’ll be half way through the Labyrinth in just under an hour.” “For your sake, Easter bunny, I hope you’re right. Otherwise, I’ll find you and put you out of my misery.” “It would kill you to just say thank you?” Jareth grunted as he slid his legs into the urn. His long stride took the rungs two at a time until he felt himself on solid ground once again. It was pitch black all around him. “It’s an oubliette! That overgrown cotton ball led me straight into an oubliette!” He moaned, “Argh, and I fell for it. Damned Gandor, probably part of some plan to take my castle, well I won’t have it!” He threw down his arms. “Ouch,” something cried as his flailing arm made contact with its entire body. As it slammed against the wall, a spark lit up the darkness. Jareth tried to spy a glimpse of what it was, but it was useless. Before he could focus the glow was gone. The Goblin King felt something tickle his face and moved to swat it away. Then he remembered how he had just knocked something senseless. “Mind giving us some light then,” he asked. “Glad to oblige king, but first you must solve our riddle.” A choir of small voices responded to his request. The Goblin King was not much for riddles unless they worked to his advantage, but it seemed as though these riddles were his best chance at getting back to Sarah and regaining his magic. “Bring on your riddle.” “What begins its life on four legs,” a choir by his right ear began. “Lives its life on two legs,” a second choir near his nose continued. “And ends it’s life on three legs,” a final choir above him said. Jareth thought a moment of all the creatures in his Labyrinth and all the creatures of his kingdom. Not a one seemed to fit such an odd description. ‘Perhaps I’m being a bit narrow-minded’ he considered. There was a chorus of laughter about him. “What are you laughing at?” he asked angrily. “If it takes you this long to answer the easiest of the bunch, you may have taken the wrong shortcut.” “I will not be laughed at,” he stated coldly trying to find someplace to direct his focus, but no matter how he turned all shades of black were the same. “You’re King of the Goblins, ruler of the Underground, Jareth. Here in the Labyrinth we follow a command of our own so to say.” The voice came from nowhere and everywhere all at once. It surrounded Jareth and it vibrated from within him. “Especially those of us in the more remote locations.” “Who is that?” “I’m the voice of all your father’s fathers. I have seen and done everything since there was nothing. You will not ask the questions here, you will only answer.” The mighty Goblin King fumbled for his words. He had felt much power in the voice that surrounded him. Certainly more than he had right now. Just knowing such a presence could detect him and tune into his thoughts that way made him feel small and naked. There was no doubt that he needed to get his head together. “Begins on four, lives on two and finishes on three.” He repeated it several times. There in the dark, his thoughts turned to the mortal. Suddenly the answer seamed clear, “Man.” All around him hundreds of tiny lights began to flicker in the darkness. “Well done,” they chimed. Jareth watched the fire fairies buzzing around. They continued to giggle as he fought back the thought that it was him they laughed at. “Follow us,” a tiny one at the back whispered. Before he had time to object, he was creeping behind them, desperate for the light they were providing. “Where are we going?” “Patience king.” “I really haven’t the time for games,” Jareth stated firmly, his goal at hand consuming his thoughts. “There are times when one must take detours from what they wish to learn in order to learn what they must.” The voice was warm and Jareth looked toward its source. The figure sat in a throne five times as royal and ten times as large as the one he left in Hoggle’s care. “My Lord,” Jareth bowed before him. Laughter filled his ears, a few hundred tiny giggles and one deep belly laugh that echoed from the walls. “Rise child. I am not your Lord, though the compliment is much appreciated.” A smile was still set on the lips of the giant. It could be clearly seen safely tucked between his snow white mustache and long full beard. “Come now up, up, up. The sooner you solve my riddle the sooner you can finish this Labyrinth Jareth.” “How do you know my name?” “The same way you know mine. We’re a bit of legend you and I.” He bent his head down to come closer to the Goblin King. “But I don’t know...” “On with this then. Until I am measured I am not known, but how I am missed once I have flown.” “Time,” Jareth said almost instantly. “You’re Father Time.” “And you are correct on both counts.” More of the giant’s thunderous laughter came and went. “What do you mean both counts.” The Goblin King was beginning to hate these riddles more and more. “I mean I am Father Time and you have solved my riddle. You may pass.” With that the giant rose and a door opened in the base of his throne. It was plenty big for Jareth to fit through, but he just stood there mumbling about not having given an answer to any riddle. “Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth,” one of the fire fairies said as they buzzed passed his ear and through the door. A group of fifty or so pushed into his back attempting to urge him forward. “But, I didn’t...” The door shut behind the last of the fire fairies and Father Times laughter could still be heard. “I didn’t even answer him,” Jareth confessed now that they were through. A fire fairy intentionally flew into the side of his head, “We know you didn’t intend to, but the answer to the riddle was time.” Their tiny giggles setting each other off in a round robin. Jareth rolled his eyes, “I knew that, I just think it would have be nice if he would have let me answer him properly.” His excuse only served to increase their laughter until one of the older fairies began to continue through the tunnel and the others followed suit. The party continued until they came to a large stone wall. “What am I supposed to do about this?” Jareth asked throwing his hands up in the air. “We’ll help you look for a lever or a switch,” a few fairies yelled out. Jareth had already begun feeling over the wall’s face looking for something himself and told them with a fair amount of irritation in his voice that their assistance was less than necessary, but just as he had finished chastising the little fellows he lifted his head and an amazing sight caught his eye. The illumination they gave off as they flew about was making words carved into the stone quite apparent. Jareth changed his tone immediately, “Fly up near the wall, space out a bit.” Each fairy stopped and stared at him without budging to comply with his demand. “Well.” Still nothing. “Please,” he muttered, “please would you space out around the wall?” “But of course your highness,” they chimed as they took their places around the hidden text. He read the words aloud, “Each morning I appear to lie at your feet. All day I will follow no matter where you go, no matter how fast you run, but I shall nearly perish in the noon day sun.” Jareth began to pace back and forth before the wall. His fingers rubbed his chin in frustration. Hanging his head he stared at his shoes. “Appear to lie at my feet,” he repeated. A few of the fairies began to imitate him. Pacing behind him just over his shoulders. He stopped. They stopped. He turned about to face them agitated by their mockery. The ones closest to him, smiled and pointed down. Jareth looked at the dark spot on the floor. He moved his hands and the spot changed to. By now, even the Goblin King was laughing, “My shadow,” he cried kicking his legs around as his murky reflection did the same. The wall began to recede. Quite pleased with himself, Jareth led his entourage through the newly opened passage way. In fact he was so preoccupied with his success that he failed to notice that his shadow had fled despite the promises the riddle had made him. Jareth continued on in the tunnel completely unaware of the deserter. They hadn’t gone more than 75 feet or so when they came upon a tiny door which wouldn’t have accommodated Jareth’s foot let alone his entire stature. “How my going through that then?” he asked. “Suppose you won’t be,” one of the fairies said. “Guess you best think up something else,” said another. “I imagine one of you might be small enough to fit through,” Jareth hinted. “Suppose we might,” yet another of the fairies agreed. “If someone were to ask,” another added. “Nicely,” contributed a fourth. “Yes, well would one of you please try the door and let me know what’s on the other side,” he found himself conceding to their wishes. “Come on gang,” one cried and within moments they were all rushing through the door. “Wait a minute,” Jareth screamed after them as his side of the door was getting darker and darker. “Why do all of you need to go?” “Because that is the way it is done,” one of the last remaining fairies commented. The tiny door shut and Jareth sat alone in the dark once more. After about five minutes he grew impatient and began to shout for them. Sadly the words did not travel well and bounced off the room he was now completely alone in. He began to beat on the wall that separated them, “Hello? Can you hear me?” It took all of them shouting at the same time for him to hear their reply. “Yes, yes. The riddle is on this side of the wall.” “Well than read it to me,” Jareth shouted his own voice pummeling his ears once again. “Ready?” Growing frustrated he replied, “Yes! YES!” “You’ve heard me before, yet you hear me again, then I die until you call me again.” “Argh!” he shouted yet again. This time he was alone and could swing his arms without worry. Jareth took advantage of the opportunity. “Argh...argh...argh...” It repelled back at him. Just the clue he needed. “Echo!” He was laughing now himself. Laughing, loud and full. In fact he was bent over holding his knees when the door began to enlarge. “Remarkable,” he commented as he walked through rejoining the fire fairies who were still providing the much needed light for him to complete his mission. “Thank you,” he said as he rejoined them. Together they plodded onward. They were going down, deeper into the Underearth. The ground was getting softer beneath the feet of the king and he couldn’t help but notice that his boots were sticking with each step. Before long the party found themselves coming upon a pond. It stretched the entire width of the tunnel. Jareth picked up a handful of pebbles that were lie along the tunnel and tossed them into the center of the pond. It was deep, deeper than he could walk across. “Swim across then,” some of the fairies suggested. “I do not swim.” “Do not or cannot?” another group inquired. “Regardless,” he said timidly. The fire fairies began to link together and span the pond, “Perhaps we can help you with this one.” Bewildered, he stared at them. What they were doing was fascinating. Before his eyes a bridge was forming. “What am I supposed to do now?” he asked as the last few took their spots. “Walk across,” they chimed. “I’ll crush you,” he objected his voice filled with concern. “Learn to trust Goblin King. We are far stronger than we appear.” A certain amount of hesitation was evident in his rigid form as he raised a foot. The first step was wary, but with each succession ease set in. Sighing heavily, he touched down on the opposite side of the pond. Something about the flickering lights mirrored in the water drew his attention and he gazed into the pool. “Uncanny,” he said as he flicked his head back and forth between the water and the fairies which flew above it. Their tiny lights were forming words in the water despite their haphazard flight patterns. “You can see nothing else when you look in my face. I will look you in the eye and never tell you a lie.” Jareth buried his face in his hands. “Have I mentioned that I hate riddles.” “Look again. The answer is before your eyes.” They were comforting him, an emotion the king had not experienced often in the hundreds of years he’d bee alive. Carefully he hung himself over the water’s edge and peered into the water once more. “I don’t see anything more than my own reflection,” he said. “My reflection!” It came over him and brought more laughter with it. Despite what he had claimed about not enjoying riddles. It had been some time since the Goblin King had laughed like this. “Come,” he called to his companions, suddenly filled with great eagerness, “let us continue.” It was much more difficult struggling up the hill than it had been to work his way down. Jareth found himself envying the little creatures for their wings. At the crest of the hill he could see a large metal door and it gave him the added encouragement he needed to press on. At the top, he bent over trying to catch his breath. “Much easier to go down,” he said sparking a chorus of giggling from above. The fairies moved around the door looking for the riddle. Finally someone cried, “Over here.” The rest all came to look and light the way. “What’s it say?” Jareth eyed the plaque carefully, brushing away some dust before he read the inscription, “If you break me, I do not stop working. If you touch me, I may be snared. If you lose me, nothing will matter.” The eyes of the Goblin King grew dark. All about him the fairies chattered, trying to help solve the riddle. “Your highness,” they finally said, “regrettably, we are unable to help you with your challenge.” A soft grey glove rose toward them and Jareth turned his head away, “Regrettably I do not require your assistance for I only too well know the solution to this mystery.” There was a pause and in the darkness he hid so that his other glove could wipe away a tear from his left eye. “The answer is your heart.” Floating before them came a gold key with a long red tassel attached to the handle. Jareth reached out and roughly snatched it, his anger at showing emotion getting the better of him. Shoving it into the keyhole between the metal doors he gave the thing a turn and stepped back. The room before him was filled with light. The fire fairies went dim. Ahead Jareth could see two torches lighting a stone staircase. Feeling confident, he took a few steps toward it. It became clear to him that none of the creatures who had accompanied him this far were moving. He turned to face them, “Guess I’ll go this one alone,” he smiled. For the first time in longer than he remembered, the Goblin King smiled a genuine smile. Turning to leave, he made it only a few steps before he paused once more, “Thank you.” This time he wasn’t just saying. This time the words dripped with sincerity. Jareth’s words were clear and as foreign to the ears of the creatures in the Labyrinth as they had been to his own mouth. This journey was already changing him. With the burdens of ruling a kingdom lifted, with no magic for him to hide behind, it was easy to be kind. There was nothing to defend. Ascending the stairs, Jareth began to fear the power that he felt. It was the same sensation that had overcome him back when the first riddle had begun. That same booming sound that filled all the space between them. Light bathed over him in lavender hues that seemed to soothe him. It felt warm, a soft breeze seeming to run through the space, kissing at Jareth’s face like a million pixies. His fear started to fade away. More gently than before, the voice called to him, “Goblin King?” “Yes.” “Do you know who I am now?” it asked him. Jareth had some idea what it was he stood before. “Is that my riddle?” “I don’t engage in things quite so silly as riddles, son. In truth, whether you answered each of my pets riddles correctly or not, it is I who has the power to pass you through and I ask only one thing of you.” There was amazing morality in his voice as he spoke and it frightened Jareth in an entirely new way. One that made him fear not for his life, but for his soul. “Anything you ask of me I shall do,” he vowed lowering a knee to the ground. “You have done it already. You have learned to rely on others, you have learned to show gratitude.” It was true. His final thanks to the fire fairies had been sincere. “I would have thought it would have killed you.” “Rabbit, is that you?” Laughter filled the chasm and shook the walls. “I am indeed. I am the Rabbit. I am Santa Clause. I am everything mythical and everything mortal. I am the sun and the moon and the tide that guides them all.” Jareth felt a lump in his throat. “Do not fear me. I have made you and I could never destroy one of my own creations. I have made you capable of love Jareth, King of the Goblins. I think you believe that now and I shall also make you free, free of this tunnel.” “I confided only to the Cleric that I felt those things,” his voice wavered. “Even when you confide in only yourself, I hear. I hear all things. The wind is my servant.” “As am I.” Jareth vowed, “As am I.” His eyes closed and when the light faded he opened them again, only to find himself standing in an open patch in the Labyrinth. Stunned he looked all around. Sun’s golden rays replaced the lavender softness that had held him. Jareth blinked a few times trying to adjust to the change. “Who goes there?” a small voice requested. “King of the Goblins,” he replied. From behind a topiary came a small fox. His unruly ivory white whiskers and brows furrowed in deep concern. “I feel that I must warn you, sire, that I am sworn to protect the Lady Sarah from anyone, anywhere, anytime.” “So you are,” Jareth chuckled bending down to meet him eye to eye. “Fear not dutiful knight, you’ve no one to protect from me.” Sir Didymus examined him suspiciously. “It’s true. I have no magic to use against her. The lady has nothing to fear.” Raising his scepter over his head, Sir Didymus brought a mighty thump down upon Jareth’s white blonde mane. The king stood, rubbing his head and scowling at the tiny antagonizer. From behind him came a throaty chuckle, more like a roar. He turned to find Ludo, a hand on one knee, trying to suppress his laughter. “You find that humorous great beast?” Jareth asked him. “It’s true. The king is without his magic,” Sir Didymus announced. “King baaad,” Ludo moaned. “My good brother, our king has changed.” Sir Didymus scurried up to Ludo’s shoulder. “The day was when such insubordination against the king would result in death, but as you see, I am very much alive.” Grabbing two handfuls of fur he swung himself down from the giant and stood at the feet of the king. “What business have you with milady?” “How do you know my business is with the mortal?” “Word spreads quickly in this maze, my liege. Everyone is aware you hunt the mortal. Vowed to kill her in her sleep the way...” Sir Didymus stopped suddenly. “The way my grandfather murdered his brother?” Jareth completed the thought for him. “Is that what they say?” “King baaad,” Ludo repeated. The fox nodded to the king. “My but it didn’t take long for them to turn my family’s past against me.” “Then what is it you intend to do?” “Sir Didymus, I wish to see Sarah so that I may ask her to restore my magic. If she agrees, I will return to my world without further inconvenience.” “And were milady to disagree?” Sadly, Jareth hung his head, “I would lose far more than my magic.” “Ludo miss Sar - rah,” Ludo whined. “When you see milady,” Sir Didymus began, “please tell her that we miss her ten fold and would be happy to pay her a visit, if she were only to call.” Jareth reached a hand out to the small fox. “Indeed I shall kind knight.” He turned to Ludo, “and you gentle beast, it was a pleasure.” He took his leave of the two and began his quest again. “Best of luck to you,” he heard Sir Didymus shout. The king chuckled, “Luck, I don’t need luck,” he declared. No sooner did the words fall from his lips, did the king himself fall through the floor. The stones seemed to part and swallow him up and he was gently tumbling down. He could see nothing in any direction, only a light below that got closer and closer. ‘I wonder if this fall shall ever end,’ he thought after several minutes. Beneath him the light grew sharper and he could make out the mantle of a fireplace. With a thud he landed on the overstuffed cushions of a green marble leather sofa. “Oof!” he exclaimed. A few seconds later he realized where he was. “I’m back at the beginning, back in my chambers. That’s not fair! I was over halfway through, why did you bring me back here,” he yelled into the vaulted ceiling. From the master bath there came a form. Tall and regal, dressed all in black. A high collared coat, framing his face. Even his hair was dark. He took long slow strides towards where Jareth sat. Now in the fire light, Jareth looked up into his own eyes. His mouth went agape. “Will wonders never cease?” the Shadow King remarked. “Look at you, you pathetic excuse for a king. I should have taken you over years ago.” “You’re not real,” Jareth told his double. “You’re just a trick of the Labyrinth, some magic designed to detain and discourage me.” “I am the Labyrinth. I am that thing you cannot control. All evil things you do and think are mine. I am your bloodlust. I am your shadow.” Jareth looked down, finally noticing that his shadow no longer sat at heels. So this is where his shadow ran off to when they were in the middle of that tunnel. Jareth rose a gloved hand to his nemesis, “You are not king. But I am and as king I forbid you.” “You forbid me what?” “That is all, I forbid you.” The Shadow King roared again with uncontrollable laughter, “You forbid be. Your mortal blood has given you conceit. You cannot deny me Jareth. I am as much a part of you as your own skin.” Which for Jareth was now beginning to crawl. “You must wonder if you could destroy me and still survive.” He reached high above the mantel and brought down the iron sword. “Let me make it easy for you.” Holding the sword by both the hilt and blade, the Shadow King tossed it to Jareth, “Go on. Plunge it into my heart and I will die.” Jareth rolled the sword at his side, the point of the blade making powder of the marble floor beneath them. “It goes against the code to engage an unarmed man.” “You can’t do it Jareth.” he spat. “You could no more pierce my heart with your grandfather’s iron blade than you could pierce your own. We are two sides of the same coin. Without me, you would lose what little edge you have. Without me to consume them, your evil thoughts would devour you.” Again he shouted, “You’re not real!” The Shadow King laughed heartily, “And you, Jareth, how are you enjoying my Labyrinth?” “It’s a piece of cake,” he tried to say convincingly. “Then how about upping the stakes,” with a wave he spun the hands of the nearby clock ahead four hours. “That’s not fair,” Jareth said. “You say that so often,” the form retaliated, “I wonder what your basis for comparison is.” The Shadow King tipped his head as he walked passed the king. “So the Labyrinth’s a piece of cake is it? Well, let’s see how you deal with this little slice.” He released a crystal on the far side of the chambers and disappeared. As it came closer, Jareth made out the form of the cleaners. ‘Had he really been this cruel to Sarah when she tried to work the Labyrinth?’ Jareth thought. With haste he picked up the sword still at his side and pulled it back over his left shoulder. One mighty swing struck the door leading out of the bed chamber. Then another. The hinges were beginning to give way. “Third times a charm,” Jareth said, replacing the sword to his shoulder and swinging with all that he had. As the blade made contact with the hinges one last time, it vanished from the king’s hands. Desperately he pushed his weight against the door, but to his surprise was met with no opposition and the Goblin King stumbled out, back into another of the Labyrinth’s interior halls. He whipped his head back over his shoulder in search of the cleaners. Only a stone wall remained. A second later something in front of him caught his attention. “Allo,” a small voice cheered. “Did you just say, ‘allo?” Jareth asked, face to face with a tiny blue worm. “Yeah, I did,” he confirmed. “Tea’s on, care to join me and the missus?” “No really I mustn’t.” Jareth raised himself to his knees and elbows. Offended, the little worm chastised him, “Now listen here. You can’t just come tumbling through someone’s perfectly good wall and not stay for tea.” The worm crawled through his hole and Jareth watched wondering how the little fellow expected him to follow. A moment later, the tiny creature peeked out again, “Sorry ‘bout that. Very rude of me not to point out the guest entrance.” He gave a nod to a recession in the wall a foot or so away from his worm hole. Warily Jareth crawled through. The king stood, amazed at how high the ceilings were in a home made for creatures less than two inches tall. “Careful now, you almost stepped on the guest chair,” his host pointed out from a ledge he crawled along that kept him eye level with the king. “So sorry,” Jareth said. “Well than have a seat, Goblin King.” “You know me then,” he commented. “Doesn’t every creature of the Labyrinth?” “And you might be?” he asked the worm. “I’m Winston.” He gestured toward the guest chair as he began to descend the wall so that he might join his guest. “Have a seat. Jena will be along with the tea in just a moment.” Jareth looked at the chair and then back at Winston. The chair was tinier than Jareth’s fingertip. “Go on, go on,” the worm encouraged, “you’ll see.” Stooping over the chair Jareth did his best not to fall. Suddenly he felt the chair rise up to meet his backside and slid comfortably into the seat. Once seated, it became apparent that the worm’s home was a series of ledges designed so its inhabitants could accommodate guests of all sizes. Winston made himself comfortable to Jareth’s right, just inside his peripheral vision. He was glad he could still maintain eye contact with his host, after all, he’d already offended him once by attempting to leave when he was asked in for tea. “Quite nice,” Jareth remarked smoothing the arms of the chair. “It’s our pleasure to have you,” Winston said smiling wide. Jena bowed her head before the king. “Your grace. How would you like your tea?” “A splash of cream and two lumps,” Jareth replied. “Thank you.” “My pleasure,” she said, using some silk threads she had spun to lift the cup toward the king. Much like the chair accommodated him, the teacup grew to size when accepted by his palm. The three talked on for two more cups of tea, before Jareth adamantly excused himself. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate your hospitality, it’s only that I have just a few more hours to complete my task. This rest has served me well.” When he stood to leave the chair shrunk to barely noticeable again. Winston walked him to another wall. Jareth bowed to Jena, “Milady,” and extend his hand to Winston. Winston eyeballed him for a second until Jareth realized that he had nothing to shake. They both enjoyed a laugh. “Anyway, my thanks again for your hospitality.” Laying his hand against the wall he slid it to the left until it met with the opening. Then proceeded through and turned left. “Not that way,” Winston cried. “Never go that way!” Jareth thought a moment about turning around and going right, but remembered what he had learned. Don’t go off half-cocked, rely on others. “Why is that Winston?” “If you keep on going that way, you’ll wind up outside the Labyrinth at the doors to the Aboveground.” The Goblin King pointed a gloved finger at his new friend, “Ah, and that is precisely where I want to be,” he smiled. “Suit yourself.” “I believe I shall,” Jareth remarked stepping back out through the wall and continuing left. The tunnel went on forever, so it seemed. Jareth wondered if Winston was wrong. “Have a little faith Goblin King,” he chuckled to himself. It was five minutes past four and his time was growing short. In three hours and twenty minutes he would fail. Leaning against the wall discouraged, Jareth thought things through. He would still have to make his way through Sarah’s world until he found his mortal. He could only guess at how long it would take him. “I’ve got to find my way out of here.” He began running down the corridor, almost two miles later, still no exit. But he had noticed his shadow back at his feet. While he was at a stand still , he took the opportunity to ground his foot into the darkness, stomping on it. “Back were you belong I see,” he muttered. Jareth was overlooking something. He felt at the walls. Nothing. Jumped at the stone floor. Nothing still. “Argh,” he screamed into the sky. When he lowered his head he found himself facing the back of a dressing table. “Can’t be this easy,” Jareth thought. He walked around to face the mirror side of the table. All around it’s frame, he could see her photographs. Her mother, her father. Smiles and newspaper clippings that told the story of a life he shared for a few short hours. He focused on the glass and spoke her name, “Sarah.” The reflective glass went hazy before his mismatched eyes. When things began to clear, there were mad streets polluted with vehicles of all sizes, large buildings rising up in the horizon, a sky of stars just beginning to pull out night’s blanket. Jareth rose his hand to touch the glass. His fingers pushed through and on the other side he felt a cold breeze blow across his hand. The king pulled back a moment. ‘This is going to be interesting,’ he thought as he sized up the situation. First Jareth tried to lay the piece of furniture down on it’s back, but it seemed drilled into the ground. Then he tried removing the mirror, but without tools or magic, it was no use. He feared that breaking the piece apart, would allow the magic to escape. And so with all other options depleted, he backed up several paces, charged at the mirror and dove head first into the glass. Shards flew in all directions and the Goblin King was gone, swallowed up from the top of his high blonde mane to the tip of his black leather boots. |
| CHAPTER SIX - JOURNEY OUT OF THE UNDERGROUND |
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