Chapter One—What Have I Done?

 

It began with an e-mail.

I’d read twenty or so messages from my fellow Labyrinth Listians. They were my friends. People who shared my interest in my favorite movie; the characters and the magic.

Raven wrote two more “What If’s”; she was famous for them. The Biting Faery—Stephanie—told us of a play she was going to be in; we were all proud of her. Guinevere and her horse, Peaches, welcomed a newbie to the List.

All was well.

All until I had to mess it up, that is.

I’m delurking for a while, my post read, even though I’m not technically a lurker. I’m just way behind on my e-mails. This is just a message to reassure you all that I’m alive and well.

I wrote my name, Libby Sarah, at the end and sat back. Rereading my message, I grinned.

I wish I could meet all the Lisitans.

A sharp breeze rushed in through the open window of the computer room, and right away, I knew something was wrong. My eyes flashed to the screen. In an instant, the Send button clicked; my message sent. An all-too familiar laugh floated toward me.

“Libby, darling, didn’t your mother ever tell you to be careful what you wished for?”

I jumped out of the large, tan chair and whipped around. My long, brown hair whirled around and brushed my shoulders. I liked that, normally, as it added affect, but now I was at strict attention.

The Goblin King was his usually glam, glittery self. He wore a black poet’s shirt, tights, boots, and flowing cape. Typical Jareth.

What wasn’t typical, however, was the swift gesture toward me, the capture of my hand in his, and the gentle tug to bring me out of the room.

“What was that for?” I asked, surprised.

“It’s so crowded in there. I thought I’d give us more…vast surroundings…”

Only then did I notice he’d brought me to a desert-like plain.

“Why did you do that?” I demanded. “Why did you send my e-mail?”

“Well, dear girl, were you not about to do just the same?” Jareth gave me that smug smile of his; I narrowed my eyes.

“Yes, but when you’re involved in something, there’s always a catch.”

“You call fulfilling a wish a ‘catch’?” he inquired, mock-pain in his voice.

“What did you do?” I groaned.

“Just what I said.” The King’s tone took on that of annoyance, but he still smiled. “You wished to meet the Labyrinth Listians. And it shall be so.”

With that, he was gone.

Leaving me to wonder what exactly I’d gotten myself—and the Labyrinth List—into.

 

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