Shit! Piss! Fuck! Ow!

 

Toby regained consciousness realizing that he was curled in a fetal position on his side and his shoulder was badly jarred. He kept his eyes closed while he took in the surroundings with his other senses.

 

The oppressive heat was gone and was replaced with oppressive humidity; he could almost feel the atmosphere weighting down his camos with moisture. The ground beneath him was no longer a sandy trench but had more solidity and stones that were digging into his flanks. Gone were the hisses and zings of bullets flying over head. They were replaced with the weirdest gurglings, pops, and squelches that he hadn't heard since the locker room in middle school. And the stench...

 

 

Pushing himself up to a seated position, Toby squinted his eyes to allow for his vision to accommodate. He was not sure if his vision had cleared when he started to make out vines and trees in an overgrown swamp environment. I must've gotten a good crack to the head, Toby felt under his helmet for blood or shrapnel fragments. Everything felt intact, and yet the scenery didn't change, nor did the smell. Reaching around for his gas mask, he panicked when he did not feel it or the utility belt that it was strapped to. With terror-stricken eyes, Toby searched and groped around for his weapon. There was no evidence of it, nor was there evidence that someone had removed it or his belt. Great. No weapon, no equipment. Boy, is Sarge going to have fun chewing out my hide and hanging my ass out to dry when I get back to the barracks. Looking around him as he covered his lower face with a bandana in an effort to mask out the smell, if I ever get back to the green zone, he added.

 

 

Standing up cautiously, Toby tried to assess his condition and his surroundings. He wasn't a medic or even remotely knowledgeable in health care, but he could tell that apart from a few bruises and jarred joints, he was whole and intact without any life threatening injuries. Nor was he a triangulation specialist, but he could tell that this wasn't where he started out his tour of duty. A line from one of his sister's favorite movies came to mine, complete with personalization: I don't think we're in Iraq anymore, Toby. All that was missing was a pre-teen girl in a blue gingham bib dress holding a small, black dog as she cautiously looked around in much the same manner as he was doing right now. Reaching down, he scooped up a rock, just in case someone lunged out from one of those trees. Slowly, he worked his way away from the viscous swamp where the sounds and the odor were originating from.

 

 

Apart from the noxiousness of the atmosphere, the terrain was unremarkable, for being a swamp. What was more remarkable was that there were no swamps in Iraq. Logic would say that he wasn't in Iraq. Problem was that Toby was not all that logical. He was still trying to figure out how he was transported from the middle of Samarra to here when his thoughts were interrupted by a loud HARUMPH.

 

"Ain'tcha a little bit too big to be wished away?"

 

Toby spun around, rock poised in one hand to throw at a long distance target and a stout branch in the other to whack at a close range assailant. Confusion set into his face when he didn't see the source of the gravely voice in either his near or distance vision.

 

            Finally, Toby looked down in front of him. What he beheld was almost too much for the young man to be able to contain his nervous laughter. A large man, no more that three and a half feet high, stood before him looking up with curious, watery, brown eyes. The eyes, though large and expressive, were secondary to the eyebrows that shielded them. Those were snow white, expansive and seemed to have a life all unto their own. Upon his head was a crown of what looked to be indigenous vines topping his thatch of hair, which matched his eyebrows. He was clad in what appeared to be coveralls that were secured around the collar and the waist, although the man's girth didn't allow for a waist. But the singular item that was too much for Toby's sensibilities was what was perched atop of this short man's bulbous nose. For there, with its prongs spread wide, was a clothesline clip fashioned from a fork in a small tree branch. Obviously, the residents of the swamp do not abide by the smell, either.

 

 

"Then again, if yous a wished away, whys are you here?" Hoggle asked Toby, not really expecting an answer as Toby couldn't get his breath in sequence to talk. Trying to figure it out on his own, Hoggle forged onward. "If yous ain't a wished away,... then you wished someone else away! Uh-oh, I better get outta here!"

 

Toby grabbed the little man by the scruff of his coveralls and held on.

 

"Lemme go! Lemme go! I ain't helpin' you nones! That's how I got myself in here in the first place! Lemme go!"

 

Now Toby's curiosity was piqued. "So, you're not one of the locals? Then I don't suppose you could tell me where I am?"

 

"Oh, I can tells you where you is, but, you ain't askin', are you?" Hoggle querulously questioned as he struggled to free himself from Toby's grip.

 

Toby tightened his hold on the short man and knelt down onto one bent knee. Hoggle, being reminded of another tall blond who usually had to bend a knee to speak to him, tried to squirm even further away fruitlessly. He saw too many similarities to be at all comfortable.

 

"So, little man, tell me, where in Iraq am I?"

 

"I ain't never heard of Eye-Rack, so, I can't rightly say yous is there."

 

Toby smiled. Sarah used to do this to him. Say your right words, she would croon to him whenever he wanted a treat that Mom or Dad wouldn't normally allow. He learned the finer points of elocution at the age of seven all for some chocolate.

 

"Very well. Where are we now?"

 

Hoggle relaxed a bit. "Now, there's a question that I can answer. We are now in the area of th' Labyrinth called th' Bog of Eternal Stench, as if yous couldn't figure that out on yer own."

 

The Labyrinth! No way! Toby had to use his best poker face to not have his jaw drop underneath his bandana. He hadn't heard that name or story since his sister left home to live on her own while attending college in the City. That's all it was, a story. A story about a wicked king, valiant knights and a beautiful damsel not always in distress. But, what if.... Hoggle managed to extricate himself from Toby's hold while his mind assimilated the information and straightened his clothing.

 

"And who and what are you?"

 

Hoggle looked over to Toby. With as much flourish as he could muster, he presented himself. "I am Hoggle. Prince of th' Land of Stench." The second half of his presentation was spoken as low under his breath as he could manage. "And yourself?'

 

Remember his training, Toby replied, "Williams, Tobias. U.S. Army Infantry. Serial number 04299576663."

 

Hoggle's eyebrows scrunched down over the bridge of his nose as his brain tried to digest all of that data. They lifted in order for him to look questioningly at Toby. "Ain't that a bit winded of a name for a lad? Don'tcha have somethin' shorter I can calls you?"

 

Toby gave a short laugh of relief. "Toby would be fine."

 

"Well, then Toby, whatcha doin' here?"

 

"Damned if I knew. The last thing I remember before here was being trapped in a trench under enemy fire..." his recitation trailed off as he looked over Hoggle with intense scrutiny. How was he supposed to know if this character, this Prince Hoggle, was trustworthy? What if he was the new insurgent that he was always being warned about? Damn strange looking insurgent, if you were to ask him.

 

"Well, the important thin' is that yer here, where you don't belong. No sirree. If yous were wished away, you should be at th' castle," Castle? Does he mean one of Saddam's palaces? No, he said we weren't in Iraq. "An’ if you wished someone away, yous should be headed to th' castle."

 

"So, either way, I should go to the castle."

 

"Haveagoodtime." Anxious to avoid the journey, Hoggle turned quickly to leave Toby to his own devices, but Toby's reflexes were working overtime and caught Hoggle by the collar again.

 

Easily holding the struggling dwarf, Toby crouched to one knee again to be face to face with his captive. "Now, since I'm new to the area and you are the local official here, how about you give me the tour of the place as you direct me to my destination?"

 

Stammering, Hoggle did his best to shuffle away from the man who held him. "Uh, well, you sees...I've got duties here...responsibilities...I can'ts just be uppin' an’ leavin' for a bit of adventure, see?" Then, an idea occurred to him and it registered on his face and eyebrows. "But, I do knows just th' sort of fellow that would be more than happy to shows yous th' way!"

 

"Lead on, Prince Hoggle."

 

"Now, you don'ts have to go an' start throwing titles around like that now, see. Hoggle would be fine enough," he groused as he straightened his overall once again.

 

Hoggle moved past Toby, leading him away from the constantly gurgling swamp. Stepping gingerly over roots and under vines, Toby took in what the scenery had to offer. As they moved further away from the bog, the odor lessened; not to the point of oblivion, but at least he could breathe through his mouth without the urge to gag.

 

"So, what landed you this wonderful tract of real estate?"

 

"Eh?"

 

"You said before that helping someone landed you here in the first place. What happened?"

 

Hoggle looked more uncomfortable than usual, if that was at all possible. Looking down at his limping stride, he muttered, "That ain't sumthin' I want to go through again."

 

Trying to sound nonchalant and wanting a story to ease the monotony of the march, Toby pressed. "Well, I guess I need to know what happened the first time to make sure that I won't put you through it again."

 

Hoggle exhaled a deep sigh. "There was this girl an' she had to reach th' castle. I helped her somes an' then she kissed me an’ now I'm a prince."

 

"I thought only frogs turned into princes."

 

"Don't be givin' him any ideas." Toby heard him mutter under his breath.

 

"Who's him?" Toby had to duck some branches that Hoggle barely seem to register.

 

Hoggle turned to face the young soldier. "Him. Th' one who you made yer wish to, or at least th' king of the ones that you made yer wish to."

 

Toby scowled, deep in thought. "I don't recall making any wishes." He tried to remember his last thoughts prior to regaining consciousness. Jones was hit in the face with a ricocheted bullet, he called to HQ for a med-evac...what was he thinking before that...but what no one knew was that the King of the Goblins had fallen in love with the princess and had given her certain powers.

 

The story that Sarah used to tell him about! The Labyrinth! "Sarah!"

 

"Eh? What do you know about her?"

 

"Sarah? She's my sister!" Toby was starting to get very excited now, his eyes sparkling with the thrill of an adventure. "She's the one who kissed you, right? You helped over a wall to escape some wild gang who wanted to rip her head off or something...And this is the Labyrinth and this is the Bog of Eternal Stench!" It was finally starting to sink in and become real to Toby.

 

"I's thought we went over that already," grumbled Hoggle, pressing onward through the growth.

 

"And you're Hoggle!" Toby exclaimed, putting a face to a name in a story.

 

Hoggle looked at Toby suspiciously, wondering if this man was still sane. "Yeah...wait, yous said Sarah is yer sister? Then yer her little brother that she had to save from..." Toby could almost see the cogs in Hoggle's brain turning, "So, yous didn't wish anyone away. That means you wished yerself away. Now, why'd ya go an’ do a thing like that fur?" Hoggle looked very annoyed at the apparently ungrateful young man.

 

Toby's face became very solemn at the memory, "I was under heavy enemy fire. My squad was being picked off around me, I was going to die. I must've wished myself away unconsciously."

 

"Oh."

 

The pair continued onward, at least that is what Toby hoped since he had no clue where they were heading. The silence would have been deafening, if it were not for the rhythmic heartbeat the resounded in his ears. Focusing on the pattern, Toby realized that it could not be his heart that he heard as it was a triple staccato beat that thrummed as an undercurrent in the humidity. "Hoggle, do you hear that?"

 

"Yeah."

 

"What is it?"

 

"Something I's don't want to hear."

 

"Is it something we should be worried about?" Toby asked, wishing he still had that stone and branch with him.

 

"Depends."

 

"Depends? Depends on what?"

 

"Depends if we stops hearing it."

 

Almost on cue, the drumbeat stopped.

 

"Hoggle?"

 

"Hoggle!”

 

Toby tried not to panic; traveling with a guide lulled him into a false sense of security. Realizing that he was probably now on his own, Toby's Army training kicked in. Crouching down to lower his center of gravity in case of a surprise assault, Toby quickly scanned around his person, turning around to ascertain what could be behind him. He did not like what he saw. The humidity had thickened to a thin fog and was skirting the ground, obscuring most of the raised roots in swirling tendrils of wispy smoke-like plumes. Hoggle would be almost totally submerged in its milky depths, if he were still standing. The low hanging branches and vines seemed to ensnare the mists and wind them around themselves like the binding cloths of a shroud.

 

His adrenaline levels skyrocketed when he heard what seemed like heavy breathing surround him. The sound echoed off the fog, making it impossible to discern from where it was originating from or if it was singular or plural. Funny how he could not hear his own breathing or his heartbeat, although they both pounded wildly in his own chest. The fog was acting like cotton within his own ears, amplifying the surrounding sounds as a conduit and muffling his own.

 

Oh, fuck! There was a dark, broad column looming in the distance. Its form seemed to drink in more density, growing more solid as it appeared to draw closer to Toby. Toby crouched lower, trying to use the thickening, swirling vapors as a cover. As the figure drew closer, its shape and size became more apparent.

 

It was huge. Even accounting for the disparity of height, the shadow was at least seven feet tall, snapping thick branches that Toby had to duck moments before like kindling wood. The arms, at least they appeared to be arms, writhed as if they were the pure muscle of an anaconda. Toby tried to count how many appendages this creature had and lost count at four. There might have been more, but he could not tell with the lack of direct light. It carried itself upright on what appeared to be two stout, articulated legs; legs that could double as tree trunks. The breadth of it indicated that whatever it was, it was most likely male and in its prime. Toby licked his lips in nervous anticipation, hoping against the obvious that he would not have to go into hand-to-hand combat with this opponent.

 

A guttural sound was carried to Toby's ears. The creature stopped, either to locate the source of the sound or to create another one, he was not sure. Toby watched the shadowed figure warily, dry mouth open under the bandana, ready to either rush it or run from it. Standing beneath a tree with spreading branches, its arms/tentacles were lowered as it looked around into the fog. There was another gravelly growl as a bulblike form leaped from the tree and landed on the larger creature's head. Sensing his opportunity, Toby rushed the pair with a warrior's yell planning on hitting the pair with a chop tackle. His shoulder connected with well-muscled knees as the three fell to the ground. Hoggle's face appeared above the now thick fog, panting from exertion. "Run!"

 

Grabbing Hoggle's upraised hand, Toby ran almost blindly through the atmosphere. The only guidance he had was the tugging pressure from his guide's hand and they ran and stumbled through the forest. They did not stop running until they hit a stone wall. Putting their backs to it, the pair drank in huge gulps of air, not minding the foulness of its odor.

 

"What the hell was that?"

 

"That," Hoggle answered a bit shakily, "was a bog bocan. Nasty critters, them. Not particularly fond of travelers."

 

"I can figure that out."

 

Hoggle glared at the taller figure, "You asked."

 

"Are there more of them?"

 

"Yeah, but if wes stay close to th' wall, we should be able to avoid them."

 

"Or get trapped with our backs to the wall."

 

"Yer just th' optomist, ain'tcha?" Hoggle grumbled as he pushed himself away from the wall. "C'mon, not much further."

 

Toby removed his form from the support with effort and followed the dwarf. The ensuing route took the pair through the thinning foliage of the swamp. Toby tried to mind the direction, but it seemed useless here where there seemed to be a perpetual gloom. He did note that they seemed to be following the crumbling embankment. Whether it was to keep something out or to keep the contents of this swamp in, he was not sure but he had an idea that it was to keep the noxious swamp and its inhabitants in and away from the rest of whatever was out there. Presently, they came upon a rather large tree with upraised roots. There seemed to be a recessed knoll at the base that looked strangely like an arch. Seated outside of this portal, Toby was not surprised to find a creature resembling a fox terrier with a moustache wearing an eye patch. Hey, if this is the Labyrinth as I know it, then anything is possible.

 

Yeah, and I'm Alice.

 

 

Hoggle needed to maneuver around the knees of the tree roots to get close to the sleeper. "Didymus, wake up. We've got company." Hoggle poked the sleeping sentry with a coverall-clad toe.

 

 

Didymus awoke with a few startled snuffles and snorts. "I say! Who goes there!? None may pass without my permission!" He looked around with a glaze over his one eye, obviously not quite awake yet.

 

With an exasperated sigh, Hoggle rolled his eyes, not minding the show he was giving to Toby. He got the impression that this was not the first time those two had this exchange, and it probably won't be the last time, either. "Didymus, there ain't nothin' to guard here no more! The bridge is out, it ain't gettin' repaired and he took you off of yer duty."

 

"Be that as it may," the indignant creature retorted, "none may pass this way without my permission!"

 

Hoggle extricated himself from the cramped quarters and returned to Toby's side. "You'd better go and talk to him. I ain't goin' no farther and yous havta ask his permission."

 

Toby started forward after giving Hoggle a second look and Hoggle made shooing motions with his hands. As he drew closer to the canine, he cleared his throat. "Ahem, sir? Didymus?"

 

At hearing a new voice, Didymus leaped into action. Springing in one motion from a slouched sitting position, he poised himself on the path in front of Toby and Hoggle, staff in hand and in a threatening position. "Who goes there!?" Fire blazed in his right eye, creating a sparkle in the dark brown iris.

 

Now that the diminutive warrior was out in the open, Toby had more of an opportunity to size up his adversary. Didymus did not seem dressed for battle in his vestments of velvet with thin strips of stiffened leather for structure and armature. The colors of his doublet of red velvet over his yellow shirt were faded with age and the leather was cracked in the crease folds. Although the clothes of the aged animal were starting to look threadbare, he held his head high with purpose, setting the yellow plume in his tri-corner hat bobbing over his shoulder.

 

Feeling more in character from something out of Monty Python, Toby held himself erect, chin high in the air, as he answered, "It is I, Tobias Williams, seeking passage through here to progress to the castle. I seek your permission to allow this crossing and for you to accompany me as my guide." He heard Hoggle behind him groan loudly over the hammy theatrics.

 

Didymus drew himself up to his full height to attempt to look Toby in the eye. "I take commands from none other than my king!"

 

"Then I humbly request that you accompany me to your king as my guide. Please."

 

Hoggle groused and buried his face in his hands at the exchange between the two soldiers. Didymus, obviously flattered that he was being requested to accompany the young man in front of him on a quest, preened and puffed out his chest as he responded, "Sir, it would be my privilege to direct thee to my King."

 

"Fabulous." Toby muttered under his breath as he moved to walk past his new guide.

 

"Halt!"

 

"What now?" Toby asked, flabbergasted.

 

"My sacred oath, good sir. None my pass without my permission." Didymus stood in his path, arms crossed and snout held high.

 

Another groan emanated from behind Toby. This was getting very stupid, very fast.

 

Toby looked at the diminutive creature in front of him with exasperation. Thinking for what to say, Toby paused for thirty seconds. Finally, "Can I have your permission to pass?"

 

With a flourish, the little knight bowed and stepped aside, "Permission gladly granted, Sir Tobias."

 

Buoyed by the favorable turn of events, Toby turned back to Hoggle and waved. "Bye, Prince Hoggle. I'll give your best wishes to the King!"

 

Hoggle's parting remark was merely another groan.

 

With a sharp whistle from Didymus, an English sheepdog emerged from behind a tree. While Toby was making good with his farewells, the fox-like creature mounted upon the larger dog like a riding steed, soothing it with a soft voice and gentle words.

 

Once Toby had turned around to continue on his journey, he almost was not surprised to see Didymus waiting patiently for him in this manner.

 

They crossed the bog with a series of stepping stones that were remarkably worn smooth and level. Once across, the terrain changed. What once passed for mangrove trees in the swamp now gave way to more deciduous growth. The fog dissipated once the swamp was behind them and the humidity seemed to drop to more manageable levels. Although there was less humidity, every surface sparkled with what looked to be a frosting of moisture. Touching the bark of a passing tree, Toby noticed that the glistening seem to emanate from the surface itself and was not a coating of ice. This sheen was on everything; barks, leaves, bushes, vines, rocks--there was not a surface that was not touched with some type of glitter in its composition. The very earth beneath his Army issue boots twinkled like man-made pavement that has glass in the mixture. Even the fragile webbings that spread themselves across some rocky wall-like formations had a luminescence that seemed added. Don't want to meet the spiders that spun those things, Toby shuddered just thinking about it.

 

              Not knowing what part of the day he 'dropped in' on, Toby was at a loss as to knowing what part of the day it was now. It seemed like late morning, but it could have just as easily been late afternoon. All he knew was that he was exhausted. Being shot at in a war zone, then finding himself bruised and battered in a odorous bomb of a bog that he had to tramp through and avoid being torn apart in to a hard march next to a pair of canines in the woods had a way of wearing a guy down. To top it all off, he seemed to be in a world that he only knew about from bedtime stories. It was stretching the limitations of mind and body just a bit too far. He hoped that there would not be any more surprises. Given where I am, I suppose surprises would be the norm, Toby thought ruefully. Well, I hope I'm surprised with a quiet walk in the woods. Figuring that the air should be more palatable to breathe once he noticed small, mammalian creatures in the canopy, Toby removed his facial covering.

 

"Ah, thou art not disfigured, Sir Tobias." Toby had not realized that the little fox even took notice that the bandana was off. Need to remember; those with disabilities have sharpened senses.

 

"Ah, yeah. The air was a bit stale back there in the swamp."

 

Didymus sniffed loudly. "So it hath been said to me. I find no staleness in the Bog."

 

"To each his own, I suppose." Toby muttered under his breath as his folded his bandana and placed it carefully in a pocket on his flak jacket.

 

Without slowing the pace of his mount, Didymus turned in his high backed saddle to look at Toby full on. "So, what bringest thou to my crossing? A noble quest? Aid from my King to rescue a fair maiden? A plea for arms to assist in taking back a kingdom that was wrongfully wrested from thine family's good name?"

 

Tramping along, Toby was in shocked amusement at the question. A quest? A fair maiden? Which storybook had this character been reading? Trying not to laugh out loud, seeing as his guide was in complete seriousness, he put on his best poker face, "Well, I sort of woke up in there and bumped into Prince Hoggle. All the options he told me pointed me towards the castle. So, I'm off to the castle." To see the wizard. The Wonderful Wizard of OZ, Toby's frazzled brain had to pipe in.

 

"Thou seeks information."

 

"I suppose so, yeah."

 

"I wish thee well, Sir Tobias. My king is not one to offer anything freely, information least so." Didymus righted himself in the saddle and set his gaze on the path ahead.

 

The trio proceeded along the forest trail in relative quiet, only broken when Didymus pointed out a landmark that was of some importance to him. His training grounds. A favorite napping spot of Ambrosius ( the sheepdog), there seemed to be many of those. A stand of rocks were Didymus claimed to have battled fiercely a clan of goblin brigands to a standstill before leaping to the rise of the outcropping and dropped onto the back of his faithful charger who was waiting at the backside of the rocks, where Ambrosius, who was cowering in fear, merely awaited his master before making a hasty retreat to safety.

 

"Why all this training, Didymus? I mean, staying fit is important, but why train for battle when you're..." Toby paused for ten seconds to compose the question the right way without offending his guide, "at an age to enjoy life instead of taking it on?"

 

Didymus glanced over to the strangely clad young man with the air of one who knows he is his companion's better. Snout held proudly in the air, his nostrils flared with pride as he replied, "And how else should one enjoy life if not to 'take it on' as thou speaketh of? I am a knight of the chivalric code of courage. I live for the fight and the opportunity to uphold the just and valiant! Never shall I forsake the honor that was bestowed upon me, even if mine title has been stripped away. I shall be ever ready!" With that statement, Didymus upheld his staff with a brandish, daring the very air to challenge his right.

 

"I get it. Semper fi. Once a soldier, always a soldier."

 

A puzzled expression caused the old fox's face to become quizzical as he lowered his staff to his saddle. "Soldier? What doth thou speaketh of?"

 

Now it was Toby's turn to explain. "Soldier. Warrior. GI. Conscript. Man-at-arms.--"

 

"Ah," understanding smoothed out Didymus' face, "I see. Art thou a man-at-arms, Sir Tobias? For thou art clad in strange armor indeed."

 

"Yeah, I'm a soldier. And I'm a long way from my platoon." Toby said morosely.

 

"Then we have much in common." Didymus stated with finality.

 

Toby kept quiet, not minding his surroundings as he trudged along side of the rider. Did they really have so much in common? Toby thought about what Didymus said so vehemently and what values were drilled into him during basic training. Yeah, I suppose that all fits in with LDRSHIP, he pondered. He remembered the acronym as it had been taught to him; Loyalty, Duty, Respect, Selfless service, Honor, Integrity, Personal courage. Didymus was certainly loyal to his king and he knew his duty, even if it was taken away from him, showing his selfless service and personal courage. Didymus treated him with respect and held himself with honor and integrity. Didymus would fit right in with today's Army, but did Toby? He thought about the U.S. Army Infantry's motto, 'Follow me!' Did he have what it took to be a leader?

 

His thoughts meandered back to his enlistment, not quite a year ago. He was 21 years old, had just graduated from college with a liberal arts degree and no direction or job offerings. He had moved back into the family homestead; the only home he had ever known before dorming it at college. His mom was an irritant, as usual, and Dad was quietly living his own life, wrapped up in his little office turmoils, on the outskirts of the family. His sister, Sarah, had moved out years before to pursue her own life in the City. And there were wars going on; a war in Iraq, the remains of the occupation in Afghanistan and the ever present war on terrorism. Getting tired of hearing his mother alternate between either gently berating or nagging him about getting his life together, Toby enlisted in the Army to do something that he and his parents would be proud of. Now, instead of moaning over whether he would ever get a job/wife/family, his mother wailed about how her baby (a pet peeve of his) was going off to war and how she would never see him again. If she only knew how true that was, he thought to himself, shaking his head.

 

So, I guess I joined the Army to run away, he reflected, not very worthy of a leader. He was just one of the thousands of troops that were in Iraq, trying to keep the peace until a temporary government could be elected and then he and his platoon could get the hell out of there. He just had to stay alive through the bombings and the roadside attacks. That was where he last remembered being. Instead of dying with the rest of his squad, he ran away here, even if he did it unconsciously. He felt pretty miserable about himself and the way he conducted his life. Now, he was here in the Underground, where he had no clue if he would see his family ever again. Toby tried very hard not to feel sorry for himself.

 

His mind, overtired from too much self analysis and over stimulation, tuned everything out except anything other than the mindless plodding of putting one foot in front of the other. Nothing like a good march to make your mind go numb.

 

"Halt!"

 

Toby pulled up short, scraping his nose on a sandstone pedestal as he lifted his face to see what the command was about. Staggering back two or three paces in a dazed mental awakening, he found himself standing in front of a pale, octagonal obelisk that tapered to the height of approximately eight feet. It rose with a sheer, flat surface, devoid of any markings, save what seemed to be compass points, one side marked, flanked by a plain panel on either side. Situated atop of this pedestal sat what appeared to be a sphinx made of the same sandstone. At least it looked like a sphinx in the classical Egyptian style; a lion's body topped with a humanesque face wearing an expensively ornate pharaoh’s headpiece. The features of the face where smooth and fine; a high forehead unmarred by a brow line or furrows, a long nose that was slightly hooked like a falcon's beak, ageless complexion that appeared to never had grown hair, but a false beard made of the same gold and lapis lazuli as the headpiece was strapped to the chin underneath a mouth that was shaped in a enigmatic curve. The eyes were more than golden, they seemed to be carved of the same stone as the rest of the statue, yet had the same coruscation like everything else in the forest. That is, until it blinked.

 

Toby did not bother to hide his astonishment. Didymus had to clear his throat to remind him to shut his mouth.

 

"Who is it that quests this passage?"

 

The travelers looked at one another. "Thou needst to answer, Sir Tobias," whispered Didymus as an aside. Toby was dumbstruck. He had not seen the lips move, yet there was this voice that was carried down to them. A voice that was masculine with feminine tones and inflections. Nor did he notice the statue breathing, any sort of indication that it was alive, let alone sentient. Then again, it doesn't need to think to be a guard, does it?

 

Clearing his throat, Toby announced his intentions once again. Immobile, the sphinx pondered his request. Wondering if this were all, Toby looked at Didymus. "Let's go."

 

"Nay, Sir Tobias, thou needst to pass through this portal to achieve thine goal." Didymus stated gravely. He pulled on Ambrosius' reins to turn his steed to head back to the Bog of Eternal Stench.

 

"Me? Alone? Hey, I thought you were going to take me to your King!"

 

Ambrosius continued to amble homeward bound, happy to be returning to the more familiar territory. "I stated I would direct thee to his Highness, not take thee to his presence. The sentry will continue the journey for thee. Fare thee well, Sir Tobias. Pleasant ramblings."

 

Frustrated and angry, Toby watched as a plumed white tail bobbed over a shaggy, saddle-bagged, gray and white rump as they passed through the colonnade of trees.

 

"So, what is it that you wish to seek?

The Goblin King or his stony keep?"

 

Toby whirled around to face the statue again. Now, its head was declined as to gaze on Toby fully. Such a powerful stare. Who would have thought that such an expressionless gaze could burn like coal? Remembering what his sister had told him all those years ago about wording questions and answers just so, Toby deliberated over his answer. "The Goblin King."

 

Again, that voice surrounded his head, a masculine voice that had maternal concern and guidance to it. He looked directly at the face of the sphinx and was certain that the voice was not spoken through those immobile lips.

 

"To find the portal that you must pass through,

A riddle you must answer true.

Correctly answered and you will be there,

Answered falsely and you shall despair.

 

Since it is the King you wish to meet,

Then a king's riddle I shall mete.

 

Brothers and sisters, I have none;

That man's mentor is my father's son.

 

Now think lad, before you are done,

Whom will the King gaze upon?"

 

Oh, God. A riddle? he moaned internally. He was not very good at riddles, never was. If only Sarah were here instead of him...

 

Okay, let's try this logically. Where's the riddle? His brain flipped and searched through the sphinx's utterance for the desired passage. Brothers and sisters I have none. Okay, the speaker is an only child. Toby chewed his lip as he worked this out. My father's son, since he's an only child that refers to the speaker again. So, the speaker is the mentor to the man who he is talking about. Hope shyly grew in his chest as he started to have a revelation. If the king is the speaker, then the king is the mentor. A frown crossed his face. A mentor is a teacher. Why would a king be a teacher? Who would a king teach? His brain answered his own question, Someone who is going to be king next. Hesitantly, Toby looked the statue in the eye. "His heir?"

 

Still gazing down on the man, the sphinx remained immobile as the pillar beneath him rotated in place. The sound of stone grinding on stone reverberated through his body, making his spine ache as if the sound originated from his own self. Finally, a face that was not stone presented itself to Toby. Amazed, he looked through the obelisk upon a vista of a barren ridge with the sun apparently setting or rising in front of it. Skeletons of trees and brush shuddered in the apparently gusty winds that he could notfeel or hear. In the distance stood a cloaked figure, his outer garment being pulled by the draft as he stood motionless. Toby looked up at the sphinx one last time as it spoke; its gaze forward once again, looking beyond the horizon.

 

"And that is what the King shall see

When his gaze shall fall upon thee."

 

Toby stepped through the obelisk, not even questioning in his mind what the sphinx meant by that riddle.

 

Toby now found himself where he had just been looking through the supporting pillar that the sphinx was atop of, except now things were in vivid color. The sky was brilliant with varying hues of oranges, fuchsias and purples. The wind dragged pink clouds across the sky pulling them thin like the taffy he watched being made down on the Shore during summer vacations as a boy. The same wind tugged at his clothing, catching the billows of his pants where he tucked them into his boots and teased its way underneath his flak jacket. It rubbed its chilling trails against the back of his bare neck, where it was exposed between his helmet and the collar. He had the distinct feeling that there was nothing friendly here.

 

He climbed to the top of the ridge. In the valley, back lit by the weakening light on the horizon, Toby beheld a massive structure. It was a maze. The low angle of light threw ominous shadows down all the corridors, lengthening the straight-aways and creating black holes in the corners. In the foreground was a wall interspersed with pillars, much like the same one that he just passed through. He spun around, expecting to see the portal that he came through behind him, but only found that the arid plain extended back to the now dark horizon without break. Turning back to the most interesting feature around, he marveled at its immensity. Toby could only imagine the complexity of it, since most of it was now being consumed by the darkness. Rising in the distance, its stature increased by the hill it was situated on, stood a castle; its features lost to the encroaching night. Who could have built such a fantastic citadel?

 

Shadows covered the landscape; the darkest of them all was the lone figure standing along the ridge. Having passed through the gateway, he found himself closer to this person. He could discern the curved edge of the archal on the cloak and the fluid motion of the body of the wrap as it was caught in the current of the wind. Even though the person was a study in black, the image was crowned with a mop of hair (Toby hoped it was hair. That would make the figure human-ish) that was pale in the twilight. It too was subject to the mercy of the moving atmosphere. Hoping that the figure was animate and hoping that the sphinx was true to its word, Toby approached it cautiously with a full stride.

 

 

Toby walked tall and proud, his steps covering the distance easily. He had nothing to be ashamed of and he would not show any fear or trepidation. He was a member of the greatest fight force on Earth; he would not back down in the face of uncertainty. Back in Samarra, there was no uncertainty, only death. That was when Toby had his epiphany; he realized that he did not run away from the battle, he escaped through a trap door that only he was able to use. He was able to escape a no-win situation in order to battle another day. The one who wins knows when to fight and when not to fight*. This was no battleground, but he knew that he could battle again, if need be.

 

Shortly, Toby found himself to be within speaking distance of the man. His profile was obscured by the leathern collar that flared dramatically high against the wearer's cheek. Toby waited to be recognized. He did not have to wait very long. The king (Toby realized that this is who this person could only have been; the weight of decisions rested upon his shoulders almost visibly) glanced over to the soldier. "So, I see that you have found me," a silky voice came from behind the shielding fraise that was accompanied by an appraising look over the edge of said article.

 

Assuming the 'at ease' position with his hands clasped behind his back and his feet planted shoulder's width apart, he responded. "And now that I have, I would like some answers." Toby was not going to back down. This person in front of him may be a king and he will afford him the dignity and respect that he deserves, but he was not his king and Toby would not be daunted by him.

 

The king narrowed his eyes, sizing up the young man alongside of him. Such impertinence. Such fire. Only one other have I met with such resolution, Jareth tasted the air surrounding the young man. So familiar...Can it be? His eyes widened with remembered recognition. "Tobias."

 

Toby was not going to let this man intimidate him with familiarity. Maintaining a neutral expression, Toby pressed on. "First; why am I here? Where is here? Where is my squad?"

 

            Jareth turned to face his questioner with his arms akimbo. The wind blew wisps of his hair in every direction at once, creating a maelstrom around his face. It pressed the cloak draped around his shoulders, creating a mold to his body, affording him little warmth. This is what he was accustomed to--confusion. He was taken aback by the young man confronting him, but now, he had the upper hand. He started to close in on Toby. "Come, come, Tobias. You already know why you are here. As to where you are, you are home. Your former companions are where you left them to be."

   

"Home?"

 

"Yes, Tobias, you are home now." Jareth could read the confusion in Toby's face and pheromones. He continued, "You see, you wished yourself to the goblins. As their king, you would have to seek me out and implore me to return you to your world. There is a price, though. In order to gain your return, you must solve my Labyrinth within thirteen hours and reach the castle in its heart." Jareth stopped his stalking and pointed towards the edifice below them. "The entrance is there, in the valley. You have already spent more than half your time coming to the start; there is little chance that you would solve the Labyrinth in the remaining time. And, even if you were to achieve your goal, I would be obliged to return you from whence you came; under attack with your companions dead around you. So, you see, this is now your home, if you so chose to live here. For if you chose not to, you would face certain death."

 

Turning his back to Toby now, Jareth spoke nonchalantly over his shoulder, "Besides, I could not return you to your world even if you did solve the Labyrinth." He started to walk away.

 

It took Toby a few seconds to register that last statement. Hurrying to catch up to the monarch, he had yet more questions. "Why can't I return home?"

 

Now I have him. "This is your second visit to the Underground."

 

"My what!?"

 

"You were here once before when you were just a wee babe, courtesy of your sister."

 

Toby was speechless.

 

The damsel knew a way.

 

Then, realization dawned on him. Holy crap! Sarah was the damsel and I was the baby! It wasn't just a bedtime story to shut me up. Sarah was telling me about this place! Toby looked down into the valley, expecting to see swarms of faeries, ready to bite unsuspecting humans looking to help them. He knew the Hoggle would not be there, he was the Prince of the Land of Stench after Sarah kissed him. Then the King became jealous because…what no one knew was that the King of the Goblins had fallen in love with the princess... Although it wavered with disbelief, Toby found his voice enough to ask, "So, what does that have to do with not being able to go back?"

 

Jareth stopped walking to look at Toby. A fine lad, not too broad in the shoulder or chest, yet firm. An erect posture with an easy gait. The feet seemed rather large, though. No sense of style, either. But, those eyes--even in the diminishing light, Jareth could see the bonfires of determination that he saw in his sister's eyes over eighty years ago. Those eyes spoke of the strength that the boy promised to bring with him in becoming a man. "The first time you visited here, your body became sensitized to the atmosphere. Your very essence was introduced to magick. Now, that sensitivity has been strengthened; to return to a world without magick would be painful. Your body needs magick now to thrive. You can never return to your previous world for any extended periods of time without wasting away."

 

Toby's brain was starting to feel like it was beginning to smoke like an overheated, over worked engine as he tried to think along two different tangents at the same time. This guy was in love with my sister! She dumped him to bring me home. Oh boy, he must've been pissed! This doesn't add up to a happy, fairy tale ending, though. His mouth continued the conversation with Jareth. "So, I can go back, just not to live or stay there for very long?" I've got to find a way to warn Sarah!

 

So, he is willing to learn. An intelligent fellow. I knew it all along, even then. Jareth almost strutted with paternal pride; instead, he merely nodded. "You can learn to channel the magick to your needs." At that moment, he threw his head back. What seemed like a stiff board of a collar was pliant enough to tilt back, yet still supported his head as Jareth opened his mouth. What he uttered was the purest tone that Toby had ever heard. It sounded like a choir of boys all were singing the same note, on the same pitch at the same time creating a singular, uplifted note with multiple tones. Not only did Jareth produce this sonance, he managed to say a word in that perfect tone. Jareth then smiled at Toby. A shiver ran down his entire body with that one expression. There was nothing human in that smile, no matter what emotion caused its occurrence.

 

Jareth was pleased. He was finally getting his heir back to mentor. Oh, this was a happy day. The castle was nearly complete, his plans to exact revenge on its destructor merely waited his actions and his heir has returned. After calling for his dragon Fa'loon, Jareth looked to Toby and smiled. "It is time that you should see the land. We'll take the long way home."