Prelude:  Crystal Moon Rising

Part 1

        It was a warm day, and the traveler walked alone.  He didn't mind his solitude; it was soothing on a day like today, when the birds were singing lullabies in the treetops and the wind frisked about his heels like a puppy, to hear only the sound of his own footsteps on the narrow path that ran along the forest's edge.
        He was not yet weary; he had set out from his village a fortnight ago and more, but the dreams that had carried him then still kept his chin up, chest out, and mind singing with dreams of his quest, of the rejoicing there would be when he finally returned to them, the dread foe conquered. A hero, that's what they'd call him.  A hero.
        He stopped for a moment to savor this thought, a thousand emotions welling up inside him.  But then his courage faltered him, as he felt that familiar flutter deep in his chest once again--fear, that's what it was. Shameful, craven cowardice, a secret he had always striven to hide, and of which he had told no one.  He believed with his heart and soul that this quest would be a way to vanquish the fear once and for all, to prove to himself--and his village--that he was, indeed, as brave as he wished himself to be.
        He resumed his purposeful stride, and though he had never been able to walk very fast, he kept a steady pace and paid no attention to the occasion pains from his feet.  "We'll rest at nightfall," he said to no one in particular, and a small, furry creature chittered at him from the edge of the path before scurrying off into the undergrowth.  The traveler wondered, and not for the first time, where the path was leading him.
        The day grew long, and as hints of dusk began to creep in at the corners of the forest and the bird songs changed to lonelier, more haunting calls from the forest, the path the traveler walked on narrowed, grew rough with rocks and grass, more and more choked with thorny bushes and tangles of undergrowth.  And then, without warning, the path stopped.
        The traveler stared at the thick tangle of brush in front of him that seemed to have swallowed his path, perhaps irretrievably, and wondered.  "What'll I do now?" he mused aloud to himself.
        "Find another path, I suppose," said a voice from behind him.
        The traveler whirled, one hand upon the hilt of the long dagger he carried at his belt, and the other upon the packet of jewels in the deep pocket of his breeches.  Thieves, his heart screamed, thieves!  I've been tricked into walking down a dead-end!  But the stranger he faced seemed to be alone, and he studied the man for a moment:  tall, slim, elegant despite his shoddy traveling clothes and smoke-gray cloak, with long, blond hair pulled back and caught at the back of his neck.  He was staring back, but not with any particular malice, such as a thief might have.  His eyes fell to the traveler's hand, and he held up his own hands, empty.
        "Easy, my friend," he said in a voice rich with breeding, and perhaps, money, even though he wore no jewels and carried no visible weapons.  "I mean no harm.  I'm only a traveler here, myself, stranded on the same path as you."
        "What's your business here, then?" grunted the traveler, relaxing not one whit.
        The stranger swirled his arm around in a dramatic sweeping motion. "Adventure!  Honor!  A quest for glory!"  He surveyed the traveler analytically.  "Isn't that what you're after, as well?"
        "Maybe."
        The stranger smiled.  "I can see you aren't a man easily fooled. I admire that."  He stepped closer and held out his hand.  "Call me Trejah."
        The traveler hesitated a moment, sizing up the suave adventurer. Then he slowly reached out with his left hand, his right still hovering near the dagger, and gave the stranger's hand a brief shake.  "I'm Hoggle."
        The stranger--Trejah--bowed slightly.  Then he sighed and looked around.  "Do you know these woods, Higgle?"
        "Hoggle."
        "What?"
        "No."
        Trejah frowned.
        "I've never been here before," Hoggle said.  "Have you?" he asked, watching the tall man closely.
        But Trejah was only frowning at the canopy of trees that domed over them. "No," he said thoughtfully.  "I'm afraid I'm quite lost," he added with a smile.  His teeth were slightly sharp at the tips.  Then he looked down at Hoggle.  "Where were you heading?"
        Hoggle thought quickly.  "West."
        Trejah nodded.  "So was I.  I heard--I don't know if it's true, but I heard that there's a kingdom around here called the Labyrinth.  It's full of goblins, they say."  Trejah's arched eyebrow rose slightly.  "And goblins are wonderful trading partners.  They have absolutely no head for business at all!"  He laughed, but Hoggle only watched, silent.

* * * * * * *

        "That would explain why Market Day is so disorganized," muttered Cassandra thoughtfully, and Hoggle broke off from his tale and frowned at her.
        "If you're just gonna keep interruptin', I can't get the story told, now, can I?" he said irritably.
        Cassandra bit her lip.  "Sorry.  Just thinking out loud."
        Hoggle murmured, "Cor..." and shook his head, then took a breath. "Now, let's see, where was I..."

* * * * * * *

        "I got no interest in trade," Hoggle said to Trejah, shaking his head.  "I'm looking for someone."
        Trejah rose a hand to his chin and pursed his lips.  "Well, perhaps they'll know something of this person you're seeking in the Labyrinth.  What say we join forces, band together?  We're much more likely finding the place together, don't you think?"
        Hoggle backed up a pace.  "Sorry.  I travel alone.  Good luck to you with your...goblins."  And he turned and plunged resolutely into the woods, careful to glance back over his shoulder in case the stranger was thinking of jumping him when his back was turned.  But the stranger only stood at the dead end of the path and said, "If you wish, then.  Good fortune to you, Hogwart!"
        Hoggle stomped on through the brush in disgust.  "It's Hoggle," he murmured, then yelped as the forest floor gave way beneath him and he fell headlong into a bog.
        A lightning bog!  Thinking fast, he spread his arms and legs out as far as he could, but he felt himself sinking quickly.  Oh, if only he were taller!  He raised his head from the muck and gave one desperate, incoherent cry, getting a mouthful of quicksand for his trouble, and sinking all the further.
        Oh, help! his mind screamed, and he opened his eyes to see if there were any branches within reach--
        --and found himself lifting, quite unexpectedly, from the grasping muck.  He hung, apparently by nothing at all, over the deadly gray bog and gasped for breath.  He looked to the shore and saw Trejah, staring intently at him and holding what seemed to be a small crystal ball.
        Hoggle floated majestically to the shore of the bog and came to an easy landing on his feet--and immediately collapsed into a quivering heap as his heart raced and he fought to control his ragged breath.  "Thank you," he finally managed to gasp as Trejah walked up to him, looking concerned.
        "Are you all right?  I haven't hurt you, have I?"
        Hoggle shook his head.  "I thought I was dead!"
        "I'm only glad I was here," said Trejah with a smile.  "I'd never tried that before with a person.  Thank the gods it worked."
        He held out a hand to Hoggle.  "I know you have no reason to trust me, but I hope you believe me when I say I will not rob you, or beat you and leave you for dead.  You do see, don't you, that two traveling together is better than one alone?"  Hoggle had to concede that point, though he said nothing.  "Perhaps you'd reconsider?"
        Hoggle looked at Trejah, and at his outstretched hand.  "The Labyrinth, you said?"  Trejah nodded.  "I suppose it wouldn't hurt nothin' to go that far together."
        Trejah smiled as Hoggle took his hand, and he helped the little man to his feet.  "A wise decision, my friend.  To the Labyrinth, it is!"
 

Part 2

        They found a pool of clear water for Hoggle to wash up in, and by the time he was clean and dry, twilight had fallen and Trejah had built a fire.  "Come, Hobble, join me, get warm," he said expansively.  Hoggle hesitated, then recalled how kind the mysterious man had been, and sat down by the fire.
        Hoggle pulled a packet of rations from under his vest and offered some to Trejah, who politely declined.  Probably used to fine, fresh foods, thought Hoggle to himself, studying the stranger by the firelight. He seemed in earnest, and yet...there was something there, something Hoggle couldn't quite put his finger on...something about the eyes...Probably nothing, he thought, just his own paranoia and cowardice talking.  After all, the man had saved his life.  He'd had no reason to do that other than true kindness.  He was obviously noble, and would not be impressed by Hoggle's meager collection of jewels, given to him by his family when he had embarked on his quest those weeks ago.  And, he mused, a man on a quest does need friends, doesn't he?
        Trejah was watching him, too, though it was impossible to tell in the flickering light what he might be thinking.  At length, he said, "So tell me, Haggle, if you're not interested in commerce, what is it that interests you?"
        Hoggle considered.  "Justice."
        Trejah smiled.  "It is a flawed concept, my friend."
        The dwarf frowned, and casually pulled out his dagger and whetstone, just to show this Trejah he was not to be intimidated.  "Seems pretty simple to me."
        Trejah cocked a delicately arched eyebrow.  "Oh?  And tell me, what justice is it that you seek?"
        Hoggle only sharpened his dagger, saying nothing.
        After a moment, Trejah nodded.  "A wise man keeps his own council. So be it.  Sleep well then, my friend.  May your thoughts of...justice...not keep you from your rest."
        Hoggle puzzled silently over that one for a while, as Trejah lay down and, surprisingly, turned his back on Hoggle.  Hmm, thought Hoggle. How does this person know he can trust me?
        Finally he shrugged.  Trejah was obviously of noble blood, in spite of his seeming obsession with making money.  And he was some sort of magician, too.  Neither nobles nor magic-makers had ever had much brains, in Hoggle's opinion.
        And the little man stayed awake long into the night, hand on his sharpened dagger, waiting for an attack that never came.
        When at last he awoke, damp and stiff but warmed by the newly-blazing fire, the gray light of morning had settled in around them. Trejah was standing at the edge of the clearing, holding his little crystal ball into the air, with his eyes closed.  Hoggle watched as several dried branches floated down and settled onto the fire, which greedily consumed them. Then Hoggle noticed that some dead creature was turning on a spit in the middle of the flame, obviously motivated by Trejah's magic.  He didn't know what it was, but the wonderful aroma coming from it made his stomach growl violently.
        Trejah had opened his eyes, and his crystal had vanished somewhere--Hoggle hadn't seen where--and he was smiling in satisfaction. "I have found a breakfast for you, friend.  It should be well roasted by now--eat up!"  And the spit floated down in front of Hoggle, leaving him to bask in the delicious-smelling steam rising up from it in the damp morning air.  "What about you?" he asked Trejah suspiciously.
        "I've been up for hours, Hodgepodge.  That isn't the first fruu I've slain this morning."
        Hoggle looked down at the golden-brown carcass.  "Fruu?  Never heard of it."
        Trejah waved his hand as he came to sit by the fire.  "Very common in these parts.  And," he added quickly, "in my own kingdom as well."
        "Your...kingdom?"
        "My homeland, yes," Trejah nodded.  Then, he did a double-take. "Oh!  No, not *my* kingdom, of course.  But the kingdom I come from."  He burst into another of his too-rich laughs.  "Thought me a king, did you?" He tossed his head back and clapped his gloved hands.  "Wonderful!  A king!  Me!  Imagine it!"
        Hoggle managed a weak smile and half-hearted chuckle.  The smell of the fruu was overwhelming.  He didn't care what it was--he raised the spit to his mouth and devoured the steaming beast in but a few minutes, burning his tongue several times but not caring.  When he was done, Trejah looked at him expectantly.  "Delicious," he said, and Trejah smiled. "Thanks," added Hoggle, wondering what this stranger hoped to get for his kindness.
        They drank deeply at the clear pool they had found the previous day before dousing the fire and heading off in the direction Trejah said would lead to the Labyrinth.
        "So," asked Hoggle as they traveled, "is there actually a labyrinth there?  In the city?"
        "That's what I've heard," Trejah responded.  "It's actually--"
        He froze in his tracks, and Hoggle did the same.  "What is it?"
        The tall, blond man cocked his head.  "Something's coming."
        Hoggle could hear it, too--something crashing through the undergrowth.  Something big.  "Sounds like it's..."
        "...coming this way," finished Trejah, but before Hoggle could agree, out of the forest burst a bristling, purplish-mottled creature ten times Hoggle's size.  It looked vaguely piglike in the face, and had cloven hooves for feet, but it had long, curling ram-like horns and a lashing, spiky tail covered with scales.  It roared hideously, its tiny eyes glistening with rage, and it bore down upon Trejah.
        He immediately produced a crystal from somewhere, but before he could launch a spell, the thing was upon him, and the crystal tumbled away into the brush.  The creature had him pinned to the ground, and he twisted and squirmed wildly to avoid the mouthful of sharp teeth that snapped at his face and neck.  "Hoggle!" he screamed, as the dwarf watched, frozen with terror.  "Help me!"
 

Part 3

        "Help me!" screamed Trejah from underneath the monstrous, horned and hairy beast.
        His cries seemed to melt away Hoggle's paralyzing fright, and the little man ran without hesitation toward the creature, drawing his long dagger as he went.  He climbed halfway up a nearby tree with agility that was surprising in one so small, and leaped upon the creature's bristly back.
        He gripped the long, sharp hairs as the beast tried to buck him off, and made a calculated guess about where its heart must be.  He plunged the dagger into its side, just behind the massive shoulder, and the creature convulsed and stiffened.
        Hoggle was thrown off, but was able to see the creature's thrashing and Trejah's lightning quickness as he scuttled from under the beast and dove into the brush.  He emerged with his small crystal ball and held it up.  It seemed to glow oddly for a moment, and the beast staggered away across the forest floor, away from Trejah and the magical crystal, trailing purplish-blue blood, thick and gloppy as tar, across the undergrowth as it went.  At the edge of the clearing, it gave one more awkward shudder, and keeled over onto its side with a wrenching bellow that made Hoggle's ears ring.
        There was a moment of silence as Trejah lowered the crystal and Hoggle struggled to stand.  "Are you alright?" said Trejah as he approached.
        Hoggle tested his arms, legs, felt his head tentatively. "Everything seems okay," he said.
        "I owe you my thanks, Higgle," said Trejah, holding out his hand.
        "You don't owe me nothin'," Hoggle assured him.  "Just repayin' my debt to you."
        Trejah nodded slightly.  "So now we are even."
        "Not really," said Hoggle, cleaning his dagger on some nearby leaves.  "You're the one that killed that monster."
        "Not at all," Trejah assured him.  "It was the blow of your dagger that slew her.  My spell merely repelled her.  After all, didn't want her falling on one of us when she died, now did we?"
        Hoggle stared.  "She?!"
        Trejah smiled.  "That was the mother of your breakfast."
        "That...that...*thing* was a fruu?"
        "A mother fruu, to be exact.  They don't nurture their babies at all, just leave the eggs to hatch and fend for themselves.  But if you kill one of the babies, the mother always knows.  I shouldn't have been so careless," Trejah admitted.
        Hoggle considered this.  "Well, the two of us handled her pretty good.  Besides," he added, "baby fruu *is* delicious!"
        Trejah stared at the dwarf for a moment, then they both broke into relieved laughter that echoed through the forest.
* * * * * * * *
        Cassandra shook her head.  "I dunno.  I have a feeling you should have left Trejah to the mama fruu."
        Hoggle put his hands on his hips.  "Are you gonna let me tell this story or not?"
        She put her head down and fiddled with her shoelaces.  "Sure.  Go on.  Sorry."
        "That's better," said Hoggle, crossing his arms.  He paused for a moment to get his bearings, then continued with the story.
* * * * * * * *
 

Part 4

        The two adventurers traveled without incident throughout the day, with Trejah holding back so Hoggle could keep pace with him.  Trejah talked of many things, and Hoggle was amazed by his knowledge of the forest and the nearby kingdoms.  Hoggle had never known much of anything outside his own village.  His people didn't trust outsiders, and tried to keep themselves hidden from the rest of the world whenever possible.  Of course, that didn't keep the occasional rogue from finding it and preying upon their inexperience.
        Which was why Hoggle had undertaken this mission; to find the enemy of his people and put things to rights.  He was beginning to think that, with an ally like Trejah on his side, he might actually be able to accomplish his task.  And he smiled to himself once again, imagining the parades and parties they would hold in his honor when he returned with the scoundrel's head on a pike.
        They set up camp at nightfall, having left the swamps behind.  The forest was beginning to thin, and Hoggle wondered aloud how close they were to the Labyrinth.
        "Not far now, I should think," said Trejah, producing a crystal that immediately lit a fire in the pile of wood they had collected.
        "I hope the goblins know something of--," said Hoggle, stopping abruptly and warming his hands in the fire's glow.  He pulled out his pack of rations and again offered some to Trejah, and again the tall man refused.
        "If you don't mind telling me," Trejah said as he sat down, "who is it that you're looking for?"
        Hoggle hesitated for a moment, then said, "A villain.  A thief, a trickster...a murderer."
        Trejah's eyebrows lifted.  "Sounds like quite a mission, my friend.  Tell me, was it someone in your family that was murdered?"
        Hoggle shook his head.  "No.  Actually, it wasn't...murder, if you know what I mean.  But he was responsible for the death of someone very important in my village."  Then added, as an afterthought, "And he's a thief, too."
        Trejah sat silently, eyebrows drawn together, then he said, "How can someone kill without murdering?"
        Hoggle finished his scrap of dried meat before he answered.  "It was like this.  A long time ago in my village, a wanderer was found at the edge of town.  He was starving and looked like he'd been beaten nearly to death.  Said he'd been attacked by thieves in the forest and left to die. We don't usually help outsiders, but since he was so bad off, the mayor said he'd do what he could to help him.  The mayor's wife, ya see, was a healer, the best in the village.  She spent every hour at the stranger's side until he recovered.
        "By the time he was up an' walkin' again, there were rumors all over town that the mayor's wife had fallen in love with the stranger, and that the mayor was a fool for keepin' him in his own house.  But the mayor was a good man, and not about to turn out somebody to the thieves and murders who lived in those woods--"
* * * * * * * *
        Cassandra frowned and held up a hand.  "Okay, wait a minute.  One question, if you'll indulge me."
        Hoggle cocked his head and waited.
        "Did anybody in your village actually ever see any of these thieves and murderers that supposedly ran rampant in the forest?"
        Hoggle rolled his eyes and twiddled his thumbs.  "Well, um, not...directly, you understand.  We liked to keep to ourselves, ya know, and...well, we didn't get out much."
        Cassandra sighed.  "I see.  Go on."
* * * * * * * *
        "The man couldn't even walk without help, ya see," explained Hoggle to Trejah, who was listening intently with an odd look on his face, as if he were also, at the same time, thinking of something else entirely. "The mayor's wife had to help him with everything--eating, walking...well, ya know.  Everything.  Ahem.
        "Anyway, soon this stranger began to show himself around town, walking with a fancy cane and bein' friendly to everyone.  And just as everyone began to think he's not such a bad guy, he up and says the mayor's been dippin' into the city's coffers, collectin' the best jewel's from the town's collection.  Of course, the mayor denied it.  He said that he'd suspected the stranger of stealing all along, and now he had proof. But the man insisted he hadn't stolen nothin'.  He said the only reason the mayor'd let him stay so long was to have somebody to blame the thievin' on.  He said the town needed real leadership, and said he ought to be the one in charge since he'd uncovered the mayor's deception.
        "But nobody really believed him.  Everybody knew the mayor was the best man in the whole village.  They started talkin' about makin' the stranger leave so's he wouldn't stir up no more trouble, but the mayor's wife begged them to let him stay until he was strong enough to take care of himself.  So everyone said they'd give him one more day and one more night, and then he'd have to leave."
        "But one more night was too long, wasn't it?" said Trejah thoughtfully.
        Hoggle nodded grimly.  "Exactly.  The next morning, all the city's money and jewels were gone, along with the stranger, and--the mayor's wife."
* * * * * * * *
        Cassandra gasped.  "Oh, Hoggle!  It wasn't..."
        Hoggle nodded tiredly.  "Yes.  It was.  Who else would it have been?"
* * * * * * * *
        "The mayor was...well, he weren't himself after that.  They found his...body not long after..." Hoggle paused, looking intently at the ground.  "He was hangin' from the canopy of his bed."  And, thought Hoggle silently, his pockets were, indeed, full of the city's precious jewels. The stranger had been, at least partly, right.
        Trejah covered his mouth with gloved hand.  "My dear Hedgehog, what a terrible story."
        "That ain't all," muttered the little man.  "A couple weeks later the mayor's wife showed back up, clothes all torn, hysterical.  She said the stranger had dumped her miles away, had taken all her personal jewels, called her a fool and left her there to die.  She was never quite right after that.  She shut herself away and never healed nobody again.
        "The men in town decided to send our bravest, strongest fighter to find this...this despicable man and punish him.  But that fighter never returned.  So then, they sent another.  And he never returned, either."
        "How long, then, has your village been sending out their bravest warriors to seek retribution?"
        Hoggle sighed.  "I'm the two-hundred and thirty-fourth from our village to go seeking this fiend...this Jareth."  He shrugged.  "All this stuff happened long before I was even born.  Everybody who saw him is dead.  Nobody even really remembers what Jareth looked like.  But we can't give up looking for him."
        "No, of course not," said Trejah, pursing his lips.
        "I know I'll never give up," said Hoggle to the sky, full of moons and stars and whirling, wheeling bats.  "I'll find that Jareth if it's the last thing I do.  And I'll make him pay."
        "I'm sure you will," said Trejah, the corners of his mouth twitching.  "I'm sure you will."
 

Part 5
 
         After three more days of travel through increasingly barren land, Hoggle and Trejah at last reached the Labyrinth.  They stood on a small rise and surveyed the sprawling tangle of twisting walls and hedges, and Hoggle frowned.
        "I thought you said this was a city," he said to his tall, blond companion.
        Trejah pursed his lips thoughtfully.  "Perhaps the city lies in the center," he suggested.  "That's the way it happens in all the old stories."
        Hoggle nodded, and then said, "Maybe you should ask him."  He pointed to a rather tall young man standing outside the Labyrinth wall, swinging about a bronze battle-ax, deftly sparring with an invisible opponent.  Hoggle looked up at Trejah.  "Go on--I'll catch up."
        Trejah gave Hoggle a doubtful look, but he started down the hill to meet the armored man who appeared to be guarding the Labyrinth, even though no entrance was visible.  Hoggle hesitated, then followed at a safe distance, his hand gently gripping the handle of the long, curved dagger at his belt.
        "Well met, sir knight," called Trejah, sounding every bit the noble he surely was by birth.  "Are you the guard of the Labyrinth gates?"
        "That I am, yer honor," said the knight from beneath a long, brown mustache, sounding much more cheerful than his armor and battle ax indicated.  "And who might you be?"
        "We are weary travelers passing through your fair land," said Trejah, gesturing toward Hoggle who was approaching warily.  "We have heard many tales of the Goblin City, and would like to stay a night and a day before passing on."
        "Ah," said the knight, stroking his beard thoughtfully.  "The Goblin City is beyond the Labyrinth, y'see...Did you want to go by way of the Labyrinth, then?  If so, make yer offer!"
        "What do you mean, make our offer?" asked Hoggle, swatting at a small fairy that was fluttering around his head.
        "Well, yer honor, we get lot's o' travelers here who's heard tell of the great maze around the Goblin City, and they've heard there's jewels and riches and treasures of all sorts in the middle, once you've solved it.  They come payin' real money just to get lost in it!"
        Trejah's eyebrows rose gracefully.  "Really?  How interesting." Hoggle had made a small sound in his throat at the word "jewels," too, but he didn't say anything.  Trejah added, "Actually, we were only interested in seeing the Goblin City."
        "Oh, well," said the knight quickly, "in that case, ye can go on straightaway.  You're in luck--I heard today's Market Day!"
* * * * * * * *
        "Oh, dear, Market Day," groaned Cassandra.  "God forbid."
        This time Hoggle only glared at her, but continued his story without missing a beat.
* * * * * * * *
Behind him, two doors that hadn't been there before swung slowly open to reveal brick wall beyond.
        Hoggle paused.  "What was that you said, about riches and...jewels?"
        "Oh, that stuff is just legend, yer honor.  But it does draw the tourists, don't ye know."  He winked at the little man, and gestured toward the open doors.  "Go straight on through, turn left, keep on goin' straight and you'll find yourself in the center of the Goblin City."
        Hoggle paused, peering at the brick wall in front of him.  "Did you say straight on through?  The wall?"
        "Ah, don't be fooled, yer honor.  Things ain't always what they seem in this place."
        Hoggle nodded thoughtfully, gazing at the seemingly impenetrable wall.
        "Oh!" the knight called out as they began to walk forward.  "Don't take any turns on the way, or you're bound to meet with Certain Death."
        Trejah frowned, and Hoggle gulped.  "Certain...Death?"
        "Yeah, that's me brother.  He can be awful boring if you gets him started talkin'.  Just turn left then keep goin' straight and you'll be fine."
* * * * * * * *
        "I've met Certain Death," murmured Cassandra.  "Yeah, I can see where a conversation with him would be a bit of a yawn."
        "Really?" said Hoggle.  "I had no idea he was still around these parts.  I'll have to look him up."  Then he thought for a moment. "Assumin', of course, we make it through this story without getting tipped into the Bog of Eter--"
        Cassandra waved her hand hurriedly.  "Just go on."
        "Alright, then," said Hoggle, rolling his eyes, and picked up where he'd left off.
* * * * * * * *
        Trejah inclined his head slightly.  "Thank you for all your help...er,..."
        The knight doffed his helmet politely.  "Certain Destruction, at yer service."
        Hoggle gave him a little wave, and the Labyrinth doors closed behind them.  "Well, I hope everyone here's as friendly as he was," he remarked, as they walked forward into the brick wall.
        After turning left and leaving the brick-lined, open passages behind, they found themselves walking in an arched tunnel, with open, brick-lined passages branching off to the left and right every few feet. Hoggle thought he caught a glimpse of movement down one of the corridors, and he stopped to peer harder into the dim light.  Trejah, unnoticing, continued on the central path.
        Hoggle heard a slight sound down the side tunnel, and he took a step or two down the path to see...yes, there--he saw something.  But he couldn't tell...
        Suddenly, Hoggle felt himself jerked off his feet and yanked into the air.  A net!  He yelped incoherently, but before he could cry out, a dark figure grabbed him and scooped him up into darkness.
        A sack!  He was being carried inside a sack!
        "Put me down!  Let me out of here!  Stop!  Put me down!"  Then, remembering his friend, he screamed, "Trejah, help me!"  Thrashing and kicking helplessly, he realized his friend was gone--perhaps trapped himself.  In despair, the little man beat his fists against the darkness.
        "Help meeeeee!"
 

Part 6

        Hoggle had been trapped inside the sack he knew not how long.  He'd grown tired of kicking and thrashing and had decided to see if he could determine, by sounds or smells, where he might be.
        But the only sound was a faint rustling of unseen hands about the neck of the bag that carried him, his own breathing, and the only smell the mustiness of the thick, dark canvas surrounding him.
        It occurred to him then that he might be able to cut through the sack with his dagger, but he felt about his belt for it in vain.  His captor must have quickly removed it while bagging him earlier.  Oh, if he'd only listened when Certain Destruction told him not to veer left or right, but to go straight through the passage into the Goblin City!  Perhaps his assailant was the one they'd been warned of--Certain Death.  The name didn't sound promising.
        And where was Trejah?  Was he a captive, too?  He'd tried calling out for his friend until his throat was sore, but with no answer, and no rescue.  Perhaps Trejah had made it to the Goblin City, and was this minute engaged in trade negotiations with the goblins, like he'd planned.  Hoggle kept hoping he'd use one of his magic crystals for a heroic rescue, but it was beginning to look unlikely.
        Oh, where was he being taken?  What were they planning to do?  In a moment of panic, he began kicking and punching with all his might, and was quickly exhausted.
        He must have fallen asleep, for he suddenly found himself being dumped unceremoniously on the ground.
        He quickly struggled to his feet and braced himself for an attack. Facing him was a sinister-looking goblin, not very tall but with absurdly long arms that trailed nearly to its ankles.  Its prickly-looking mane of whitish hair grew all the way to its eyelids, from under which scowled a pair of large, menacing eyes.   Oh, no, thought Hoggle, I'm going to be eaten!  And he began to tremble uncontrollably.
        But the ugly goblin only turned and shuffled away, trailing behind it a rat-like tail and a pair of useless-looking wings.  It vanished through a large, iron door, which Hoggle, despite his desperation, could not manage to budge an inch.
        Then he whirled as he heard voices from behind him.
        "Oh, look, a new one!"
        "But what is he?  He don't look like a goblin."
        "'e looks like an adventurer.  Look at 'is clothes."
        "I wonder if he's come to rescue us!"
        And with that, all the goblins broke into merry laughter.  Hoggle stared, dumbfounded, at the assortment of goblins that met his eye.  No ragtag, starving, downtrodden and forgotten prisoners as he'd expected, no--these goblins were dressed lavishly, and quite fat, all of them, and smiling as if the day couldn't have been finer.
        "Wha..." stammered the dwarf.  "Where am I?"
        "Good question!" grunted one of the smaller goblins.  "No one really knows!"
        And they all burst into tittering laughter again.
        "But...but...I just got caught in a sack and..."
        "Yeah, we all were," said one goblin with a pudgy face and gravelly voice.  "Caught by Fowler.  That's how we came to be here, ya know."
        Hoggle put his hands on his hips.  "No, I don't know.  I'm new to the Labyrinth."
        "Oooh!"  And all the goblins laughed uproariously.  "A newcomer! How funny!  Oooh-hooo!"  They howled and rolled about the floor, tears streaming from their eyes, for a full three minutes, Hoggle getting angrier all the time.
        "Will somebody please tell me what's going on!" he demanded, stamping his foot on the ground.  He noticed then, as the goblins stood up and wiped their eyes, that very few of them were any taller than he was. In fact, they were all small--though he wasn't sure if that was the norm for goblins.  The goblin that had trapped him--Fowler--had certainly been taller than anybody here.
        "It's what Fowler does, ya see," said one blue-haired goblin whose voice sounded almost like he was yodeling.  "He's always took goblins and animals off in his bag, and they just disappeared.  Nobody ever knew where they went."  He shrugged.  "They went here--wherever here is!"  And the goblins broke into a vicious chuckle.
        "You don't...know where you are?" Hoggle asked, unbelieving.
        "No!" said the fat goblin as if it were the best joke in the world. "Not a clue!  No idea whatsoever!"  He laughed and laughed, stamping his stocking-clad foot on the elaborately tiled floor.
        "But the best part is," screeched a goblin who appeared to be female, pausing for effect, "we don't care!"
        And with that, they rolled and laughed and snorted and cavorted for a full five minutes.  Hoggle took the opportunity to look around.
        They were in a huge chamber, lavishly decorated with plants and brightly-colored fabrics and elaborate carvings on the walls and on the columns that rose to the domed ceiling overhead.  Carved into the ceiling were relief sculptures of goblins, hundreds of them, of every shape, size, and description, in various states of goblin chaos and debauchery.  A balcony surrounded the room on the upper level, and goblins hung over the sides, laughing and eating and drinking.  There didn't appear to be any windows, nor any doors besides the one Fowler had exited by.  The light, which was bright and cheerful, seemed to be coming from everywhere at once.
        In the center of the floor was a rock garden with a green pool in the middle, filled by a waterfall that bubbled up from the stones of the floor.  Goblins surrounded the pool, lying draped luxuriously over the stones and pillows--some were even splashing about in the pool, shouting and laughing and spritzing the unwary on the shore.
        Tables of food lay everywhere; kegs of an indeterminate drink flowed freely; and laughter pervaded every corner of the room.  It was an ongoing, never-ending, gluttonous, lecherous, and slothful goblin party. Hoggle thought it was the most revolting thing he'd ever seen.
        "Come, come," the fat goblin was saying as he took Hoggle by the arm.  "Come and have some food--it's the best in all the Labyrinth--and all you can eat!"  He patted his bulging belly proudly as if to demonstrate the truth of his statement.
        Hoggle followed him, noticing that he limped slightly and wondering if he, or if anyone, was the one in charge here.
        Hoggle refused the offer of food, and that strange-smelling drink, as gently but firmly as he could.  "Does that goblin--Fowler--will he be back soon?"
        The fat goblin--whose name was Liipus--shook his head and said around a mouthful of barbecued meat, "Only to drop off new ones."  He swallowed his mouthful and picked his teeth thoughtfully with a slender piece of bone.  "You know, goblins have hated Fowler for as long as I can remember.  He's the most feared and despised goblin in the whole Labyrinth. But I don't know--he seems like a nice enough guy to me.  I mean," he gestured around the vast room, "look at this!  I never could have lived like this if he hadn't caught me in one of his snares!"
        Hoggle gasped as he realized suddenly why the fat goblin was limping.  "He caught you in a snare?"
        "Well, yes," explained Liipus.  "He had baited the trap with qwerty fruit--my favorite!  I just couldn't resist."  He looked at Hoggle's open-mouthed stare.  "But it turned out all right, you see!"  He slapped Hoggle on the arm.  "Enjoy it!"
        Hoggle jerked away.  "Enjoy it?!  How can you say that!"
        "It's the finest life a humble goblin can imagine!" declared Liipus, waving his flabby arms excitedly.
        "It's slavery!" Hoggle shouted, and several nearby goblins gasped and fell silent.
        He looked around at them, at their fat, shiny faces and their dazed eyes.  "Slavery!  That's what it is!"  His heart pounded as he realized that he, too, was now a slave in this most sumptuous and luxurious prison.
 

Part 7

        Hoggle looked around at the dumbfounded goblins surrounding him. "It's slavery!  That's what it is!"
        There was a long silence, and Liipus began grumbling uncomfortably. "Well, hmph, well, it sure doesn't seem like slavery.  Look how happy we all are!"
        And the goblins that were watching nodded and giggled as if to prove the point.  "Yeah!"  "Yeah, we're happy, see?"
        Hoggle walked up to Liipus and looked him directly in the eye. "But can you leave?"
        "Who'd want to?" shrugged Liipus, and the crowd yelled, "Yeah! Who'd want to?"
        Hoggle turned to the nearest goblin, a tiny yellowish one with a wild mop of fluffy hair.  "But if you *did* want to, what then?  You think you have everything you want here, but what if you decided you wanted to leave, just for a minute?  What then?"  The little goblin just shrank under his stare, trembling.  Hoggle turned to the rest of the surrounding crowd. "What then?  If you think you have everything you could possibly want, then why can't you leave if you wanted to?"
        The goblins froze and stared at one another in confusion.  There was a long, tense silence as the crowd digested these words.
        And then the muttering began.  Every goblin murmured to his neighbor, who murmured to her neighbors, who murmured to their neighbors. Hoggle's question spread quickly through the throng of goblins, and set them all to wondering, wrestling with the little logic they could grasp. They began to press in about Hoggle, urging him to explain some more, to tell them about this slavery.  Soon the whole crowd had gethered as close as they could, to hear what the little man had to say.
        "This Fowler has locked you in a cage!  You're no better than animals, locked up in here!"  Hoggle shouted, angry beyond reason at these foolish creatures and their lack of wit.  "You don't have everything you want!  You just think you do!  Does this Fowler ever ask you what you want? Does he ever talk to you or think about you at all?"
        Muttering rippled through the crowd, and a few braver souls from the back ventured an answer.  "No!  No he doesn't!"  "Not once!"
        As they spoke, others began to speak up.  "What would it have hurt him to come and ask us, just one time, what we wanted?"
        "All he had to do was ask!"
        "Just once!"
        "Or maybe twice!"
        "He shouldn't have done anything!"
        "Yes, 'e should 'ave let *us* do the doin'!"
        "Yeah!"
        "We know wot's best fer us!"
        "Yeah!"
        Hoggle's heart raced.  The tide seemed to be turning.  With a little quick thinking, he and these foolish creatures could possibly find a way out before the sinister Fowler returned.
        "We can find a way out!  A way out!"  he shouted over the din.  At first, no one seemed to hear him, but then a few of the brighter goblins standing nearby caught on.
        "The door!  The door!  Knock down the door!" they shouted, scampering among the crowd and pointing at the huge iron door.  The cry spread through the crowd like a warm spring wind, and sooner than Hoggle would have thought possible, the throng had knocked down one of the balcony supports and were gearing up to ram the iron door with it.
        Hoggle raised his stubby arms over his head excitedly.  "That's it! We can be free!   Freedom!  Freedom!  Freedom!"
* * * * * * * *
        "Hoggle the revolutionary!" said Cassandra admiringly.  "Norma Rae would be so proud."
        "Norma who?"
        "Never mind.  Did you ever find out where you'd been trapped?"
        Hoggle rolled his eyes.  "No.  Those goblins probably knew.  We came out into this tunnel, and they recognized it right away.  We walked ev'ry which way through all these underground tunnels, and came up right through the middle of the fountain in the Goblin City.  The goblins first said they were gonna try to find this Fowler and have a...a talk with him, but when they all showed up in the middle of town on Market Day, well, the excitement just made 'em forget all about it.  You how goblins are."
        Cassandra rolled her eyes and nodded.
* * * * * * * *
        The elated masses of goblins swarmed around their long-lost companions, howling and cackling with excitement and demanding to know where they'd been and what all had happened to them while they'd been gone. A few of the wives were demanding to know where the husbands had been all this time, and vice-versa, but overall the mood was intensely festive.
        Hoggle stood on the edge of the fountain, wringing the water out of his sleeves and trying to see over the crowd, to scan for Trejah's elegant figure.  Surely he was somewhere here, in the city.  He could hear Liipus's voice nearby, eloquently telling about his trials while a prisoner of the evil Fowler.
        "Oh, friends, it was slavery, that's what it was.  Sheer slavery. Oh!  The horror!  I hate to think of it.  Grezel, give me that shank of meat you have there, I'm sure it will ease my mind and make the telling so much easier..."
        Hoggle rolled his eyes and shook his head.  Goblins!  Such foolish creatures!  How they'd managed to build such an elaborate Labyrinth was beyond him--if they'd been the ones to build it at all.  The crowd was beginning to move away from him now, and he peered about surreptitiously. He'd felt a need to relieve himself ever since he'd been trapped inside Fowler's sack, and since no one was watching...
        He was aiming carefully into the fountain and listening half-interestedly to Liipus's goings-on, taking no notice of the ruckus surrounding him on every side.  "And I'm sure, my friends," Liipus was saying, "we would have been trapped in that hellish dungeon forever and a day if it hadn't been for the bravery of the stranger who came and rescued us!"
        "What stranger?" another goblin asked.
        "Why...why...oh, there he is!" exclaimed Liipus, and Hoggle looked around from his private task to find a thousand pair of goblin eyes riveted upon him.
        "Hurrah for the hero!" shouted Liipus, and the other goblins took up the cry.
        Hoggle was barely able to close his trousers before they were upon him, and he was lifted into the air and carried most enthusiastically through the streets of the city until he was sure he would be sick.  "No, please, really, I didn't do nothin'...please...just put me down...no, really, it weren't nothin'...oh, please..."
        But his pleas fell on deaf ears.  The goblins were caught up in the excitement of the moment. "Hurrah!  Hurrah!  Hurrah for the hero!"
        One of the goblins in armor suggested that they take him before the prime minister, who could give him a medal or "maybe even something better, like a bowl of stew!"  All the goblins agreed, most vociferously, that this was an excellent idea, and they proceeded with Hoggle down the main street until they came to a small, black building with an official-looking seal on the door.
        The goblins in front pounded until the door gave way and fell inward with a groan, and the crowd proceeded to squeeze in through the small doorway, shouting and screaming, and banging Hoggle's head on the doorframe in the process.
        Once inside, they set him, his head spinning, down on the floor and he quickly gained his bearings.  In the center of the room was a round table, and at the table, apparently playing cards, were several small goblins, and a very familiar figure.
        "Trejah!" Hoggle exclaimed, as his friend looked up in amazement. There was a large pile of gold sitting in front of Trejah, and his jaw was, for a moment, hanging slack in amazement at the sight of Hoggle carried in by the exuberant throng, who immediately burst into another round of cheers.
        Then Trejah smiled, his sharp teeth glinting, and exclaimed, "Why, Hoghead!  It's you!  I've been worried sick!"
 

Part 8

        Trejah was very quick to explain that he'd been playing cards with the goblins in order to probe them for information on what might have happened to his dear friend Hoggle.  Hoggle was quick to reassure him that he'd done just fine on his own, though the thought was much appreciated.
        Hoggle was, in fact, quite proud of himself and how he'd taken charge of the situation.  It made him think that, perhaps, there was the heart of a hero in him after all, that maybe he wasn't just a coward with a shield of bravado to hide behind.  Maybe, just maybe, all his hopes about his triumphant return home would come true...
        His reverie was broken by a loud argument among the goblins over what would become of him.
        "Let's give him a medal!"
        "No, no, a bowl of stew!"
        "No, no, a medal is much better!"
        "No, a parade is the best thing!"
        "Yes, a parade!"
        "Are you stupid?  Stew is the best thing!"
        "Yes, yes, stew!"
        "Let's all have stew!"
        "I want a parade!"
        "It's for Hoghead, not you!"
        "Actually," Hoggle tried to interject, "it's Hoggle..."
        But no one seemed to hear him.
        "Medals?!  Who wants medals?  I say stew!"
        "Or something better!"
        "What's better than stew!?"
        This seemed to puzzle the goblins for a moment, but then Liipus looked significantly at the prime minister, who was staring back and forth in confusion.  "What?" the prime minister asked, tiny pig-eyes rolling in his huge, helmeted head.
        "Let's make Hoghead prime minister!"
        "Yes, yes, that's it!"
        "Yes!"
        "Ooh, goody!"
        "Better than stew!"
        "Well, I don't know about that..."
        "And a parade, too!"
        "Yes! Yes!"
        The goblins were caught up in the rapture  of the moment, while Hoggle and Trejah stared at one another doubtfully.
        Then they all noticed that the small, fuzzy-headed goblin was standing in the middle of the card table, waving his tiny arms frantically.
        "Better!  Better!" he was shouting.
        "Better what?" demanded the goblins in unison.
        "Better to make him the king!" said the tiny goblin in a piping voice.
        The reaction was immediate and immense.
        "Yes!  Yes!"
        "A king!"
        "The king!"
        "Our king!"
        Soon they were chanting, "King! King! King!" and had hoisting Hoggle up into the air again, his cap scraping the stone ceiling only slightly.  They paraded him noisily about the room, and even Trejah had taken up the chant.  "King!  King!  King!  King!"
* * * * * * * *
        Cassandra and Hoggle's eyes met at that moment, and he could see the understanding begin to dawn.
        "You," she whispered.  "You were..."
        Hoggle looked down.  "Well, yes, but...well, the story don't end the way I wanted it to..."
        "Yeah, I figured that," Cassandra said softly.  "Go on."
        Hoggle sighed a little, remembering the moment, and then continued his story.
* * * * * * * *
        Finally, the excitement died a bit, and Hoggle came blessedly back to earth, and stood catching his breath for a moment.  Were these goblins completely daft?  He looked at Trejah with wide eyes, hoping to be rescued from these fools.  But Trejah only winked at him, and turned to the goblins.  "But you've forgotten one thing."
        "What's that?" Liipus asked.
        "You haven't asked him if he will accept the throne," said Trejah with a strange smile in Hoggle's direction.  Hoggle noticed the tall, suave magic-maker had produced one of his magic crystal balls from nowhere, and was inconspicuously toying with it.
        The goblins all turned expectantly toward Hoggle, and the tiny goblin stepped forward.  "Oh great and mighty Hoghead, will you please accept us as your people and be our great and wonderful king?"
        There was a silence.
        Hoggle looked about the room at all the bright goblin eyes upon him.  He turned appealingly to Trejah and shook his head wonderingly. Trejah shrugged slightly and said softly, "I think you'd make a very good kind, my friend."  The crystal danced and spun about his gloved hand.
        And all the goblins, one by one, knelt down and bowed their heads before Hoggle.
        And a strange feeling welled up inside the little man, a tingling, warm, fizzy sort of feeling in his stomach and between his ears.  A king! He had never imagined...to be sure, these were not his people, but people they were, and they obviously needed governing by someone wise and brave. Was he wise enough?  Brave enough?  He was afraid not, but...they were so willing to put their trust in him.
        He looked once more at Trejah, who looked up from the crystal and nodded to him.  It felt so...overwhelming.  So frightening.
        So...right.
        He opened his mouth, which was dry as bone, and said, "It's...Hoggle, and...I accept."
        "Hurrah!  Hurrah!  Hurrah for the king!  HURRAH!"
 

Part 9

        Hoggle had been king of the Labyrinth only three days when Trejah commissioned the goblins to build him a castle at the center of town, not far from the fountain where Hoggle had emerged from the depths of the Labyrinth, a hero to the goblins, just days earlier.  Trejah would oversee the building of the castle, of course, since Hoggle had so many other important duties, he said, and Hoggle was grateful for his friend's help in the matter.
        The fountain, too, was being redone to honor the city's new ruler, something to commemorate most of the goblins' first meeting with their diminutive hero.  Liipus was overseeing that project, and designing the statue to be carved as well.  Hoggle was eager to see what they came up with.
* * * * * * * *
        Cassandra burst out laughing, and Hoggle stopped his tale in mid-sentence.
        "What's so funny?" he demanded.
        "What do you mean, what's so funny?  Hoggle, I've *seen* the fountain!"  She rocked back and forth laughing.  "A tribute to the king! Oh, it's just too much!"
        Hoggle rolled his eyes.  "Well, I don't think it's *that* funny!" And he waited for Cassandra to gain control of herself before continuing with his story.
* * * * * * * *
        In the meantime, Hoggle had his hands full.  He held daily court in the town hall, where the prime minister and his associates sat drinking and playing cards most days.  The prime minister had reached his position for reasons that were not immediately obvious to Hoggle, since he appeared to be even stupider than the average goblin.  But, as Hoggle quickly learned, the ways of the goblin mind were sometimes hard to decipher.
        "He stole my best spoon!" the haggard creature before him screeched, producing a voluminous amount of moisture upon the word "spoon."
        The ragged lump that the creature called her husband only grunted and spat on the floor.
        Hoggle fought the urge to have them thrown out of the hall.  "Did you take the spoon?"
        "Of course he did!" the goblin woman screeched, producing a large iron ladle and whacking her husband on the head with it.
        But the set-upon creature didn't answer or scream or even curse. He only grunted again.
        "That's quite enough out of you, ma'am," said Hoggle reasonably, "Now please be quiet so I can find out--"
        "There's nothin' to find out!  He stole my spoon!"  And she whacked her husband again.
        Hoggle lost his patience.  "Cor...Guards!  Take her outside!"
        The guards dutifully dragged the screaming gobliness out the door, as all the while she clanged her ladle on their helmets and screeched about her favorite spoon.
        When the door closed behind her, Hoggle turned to the bedraggled husband, who spat again at his feet, and Hoggle said, "Did you take the spoon?"
        The goblin looked up at him and said, "Yep."
        Hoggle blinked.  "Why?"
        "Cause she kept hittin' me with it."
        "I can understand that.  What did you do with it?"
        The goblin frowned at him, shrugging as if it should have been obvious.  "I traded it."
        "For what?"
        "A ladle."
        Hoggle stared.  "An...iron ladle, by any chance?"
        "Yep."
        "The ladle she was hittin' you with?"
        "Yep.  Damn good ladle, that."
        Hoggle threw up his hands.  "I give up."  He gestured impatiently at the ragged goblin.  "Go home.  Stop takin' your wife's things."
        "But she keeps hittin' me..."
        Hoggle led the goblin to the door.  "Here's some advice.  Take the ladle and trade it for something nice and soft."
        The goblin's eyes lit up.  "Soft, eh?  Like...a doorknob?"
        Hoggle paused, then decided it was hopeless.  "Yeah, like a doorknob.  G'bye!"  And he shoved the goblin out the door and closed it behind him.  Then he heaved a sigh.  "Goblins!" he said to no one in particular.
        Three weeks later, the new fountain was unveiled, and Liipus held a huge and pompous ceremony at which Hoggle had to officially turn on the water that now flowed from several stone-carved replicas of him--or more specifically, strategically-placed spouts in those replicas.  Apparently, that was the moment that the goblins wanted to remember most about the day they'd found their king.  And so Hoggle was immortalized in full urination mode, right in the center of the Goblin City square.
        Two months later, the new castle was ready, and Hoggle and Trejah moved in, with of course, all the goblins that had made him king tagging along and making themselves quite at home.
        Hoggle was most impressed by the throne room--huge!  With a sunken pit in the middle to make his subjects lower than him during audiences; windows on every side; a high arced ceiling and intricate carvings on every wall.  Hoggle did notice, however, that the throne was, in truth, a bit tall for him, but he figured Trejah had done the best he could with only goblins for help.  He could always get a stepping-stool, after all.
        The king of the goblins stood in his throne room, looking about, quite satisfied, and wondered what he could do to make it up to his dear friend Trejah.
 

Part 10

        "Hard to believe I've been here two whole months," Hoggle said, strolling to and fro in his new throne room.  Trejah lounged near the throne, meditating, and goblins in various states of rest were strewn about the floor.
        "Me!" Hoggle said.  "A king!  Hard to believe," he repeated, and noted how much taller and straighter he stood now.  He looked in the mirror Trejah had put on the wall opposite the throne and admired his kingly robes and the jewels about his neck and fingers.  He had every right to be proud, he thought to himself.
        Trejah nodded, absently twirling a crystal about his fingertips. "Yes."  He paused, then said,  "I'll bet you never thought your journey would end up this way, did you?"
        Hoggle shook his head, looking at a particularly odd carving on the wall, and then the weight of Trejah's words began to dawn on him.  "My journey.  Trejah...my quest..."  He frowned, remembrance creeping in like smoke around the edges of his mind.  His village, so long ago...
        Trejah turned and looked at him, slender eyebrows arched upward curiously, crystal balanced on a fingertip.  "What is it, Hoggins?"
        Hoggle's bejeweld hands gripped his brow feverishly.  He'd left his village on a quest...a mission...yes, that was it, a mission to find his people's greatest enemy, the vile fiend called Jareth!  Oh, how could he have forgotten!
        He looked at Trejah, horror growing fast.  "Oh, no, Trejah, my quest, my journey..."  He looked about himself helplessly.  Two months! Two months he'd wasted here, his holy mission forgotten, his people betrayed.  "My mission!  My quest!"  He was nearly incoherent.  "How could I have forgot my people!"  He threw himself in agony upon the ground.  "Oh, Trejah, what have I done!"
        Trejah was standing beside him, looking down upon him.  "Haggis, don't trouble yourself.  You're the king now.  Surely your quest is not as important as that."
        "No, you don't understand," Hoggle gasped, gathering his satin and velvet robes tightly into his fists.  "The quest was the most important thing to my people.  It's all there is!  To be the one chose to go on the quest for vengeance is--it's the greatest honor in the world!  How could I have betrayed them?  Forgot them?"  With anguished cries, he tore at the deep green cloak embroidered with gold.  "No!  No!  I don't deserve to be king!"
        "Hush," said Trejah quietly.  "Hush, my friend.  Calm yourself." The crystal danced and danced.
        "No!  No!  I've betrayed them!  No!" Hoggle screamed.  With one last furious jerk, he had pulled the cloak off of himself and he stood, trembling, and held it out to Trejah.  "Here!  You deserve it more than me! Take it!  You're the king now!  Take it!"
        Trejah cocked his head to one side, looking at Hoggle, at the cloak.  "I couldn't possibly," he said, so softly it was like cat's feet on a stone floor.
        "Yes!  Yes!  I command it!  You got to do it!  I'm the king!  And I say--you're the king!"  Hoggle dropped the cloak at Trejah's feet and began pulling off the jewels from his hands and from around his neck and tossing them at the tall, elegant man before him.  "Take them!  Take 'em all! They're yours now!  I'm not fit to feed pigs!"  He turned to the goblins, who were all staring.  "There!  Trejah's your king now!  Trejah!"
        The goblins stared at Trejah, oddly silent, as Trejah only stood, not speaking, holding his crystal ball, turning it slowly in his gloved hand.  And one by one, all the goblins bowed down to him.
        Except one.
        The prime minister was staring at Hoggle and scratching his horn-helmeted head.  "But...but...his name's not Trejah.  It's...Jareth."
        "What?" came a choked cry from Hoggle.
        "We played cards.  I remember.  Yeah, Jareth."  The prime minister nodded firmly, looking very proud of himself.
        Trejah looked at the prime minister.  Hoggle looked at Trejah.  No sound at all would come from the little man's throat, no matter how hard he tried.  It was as if he was frozen.  The goblins began to shift uncomfortably, and Trejah stooped quickly and gathered up the cloak.  He looked at Hoggle.  "Well, after all, Hogwart, you did command it."
        And with a small, sharp-toothed smile, he tossed the crystal at Hoggle, who was immediately enveloped in it.
        And before anyone could realize what was happening, there was a bright flash of light, and a lady appeared in the throne room.  She had short, dark hair, flashing eyes, and she stared straight at Jareth.  She looked angry.  "The game's up, Goblin King."
* * * * * * * *
        Hoggle stopped.
        Cassandra stared.  "Well?  Who was she?  What did she want?"
        Hoggle crossed his arms.  "She was quite a lady.  She had a magic crystal, too, just like Jareth's."  Cassandra's eyebrows raised, and Hoggle nodded.  "She cursed Jareth for all time, told him as punishment for his crimes he could never leave the Labyrinth until he'd learned his lesson. She made him use the Labyrinth for good.  She drove a real hard bargain, but she had the power, and in the end, she won." He threw up his hands and shrugged.  "She beat the Goblin King at his own game."  He paused, and Cassandra waited.
        "And?"
        Hoggle hesitated, then looked straight into Cassandra's eyes. "She...was you."
 

To be continued in the Finale: Shattered Moon

Evil Jareth Stories Link Page