**** !WARNING! !WARNING! !WARNING!!WARNING! !WARNING! !WARNING! !WARNING! ****
This is A SEQUEL to 'The Return'. If you have not read 'The Return', I'd highly recommend you do that before you proceed with 'Catching the Pathways'. If you're confused by what's going on, it's your own fault from here on out.
**** !WARNING! !WARNING! !WARNING! !WARNING! !WARNING! !WARNING! !WARNING! ****
Disclaimer: I do not own the Labyrinth or any of its characters. I do not profit from this story in any way.
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Chapter One
'Landslide'
A packed ball of snow and ice hit Toby square in the face. Spluttering, he wiped the mess from his stinging eyes and glared at his cousins. "Hey! No hitting the referee!"
Taylor and Vanessa snickered and ran off, weaving in and out between the trees and shrieking like wild animals.
Toby stomped his feet and shook his head, brushing the rest of the snow off his skin and spitting to the side. He glanced over his shoulder at the house. Inside, he could hear the chink of glasses and the laughter of the adults as they caught up over drinks and what his mother called petit fours.
He scoffed and stamped around the patio again, pacing to keep the cold from seeping through the downy jacket and snow boots. His mom had ordered him out here to keep an eye on his cousins while they played off some of the energy from the long car ride. He hated it.
Taylor and Vanessa were twins, ten years old, and the five years between them and him may as well have been fifty for all that they had in common.
Toby's eyes went up to the darkened attic window.
I should be up there, not down here babysitting, he thought, chewing the inside of his cheek.
He had been searching now for weeks, after school when his parents weren't home to question his activities. His mother had caught him at it once and given him a lecture that lasted a good twenty minutes.
"You need to respect your sister's privacy," she had said that day, wagging a stiff finger at him. "She may not be around as much, but she's as much a part of this family as she ever was. She asked us to hang on to some things for her. That does not mean that we can snoop through her belongings."
Toby had managed, through repeating the same story over and over, to convince her that he had accidentally opened the box with Sarah's books in it. He had insisted that he was looking for his old comic books to sell on the popular auction site, eBay. After a while, Judith had calmed down.
Unfortunately, through his lie, Toby had been forced to follow up and actually sell some of the comic books that he'd rather keep.
It's a small price to pay, he reminded himself, blowing hot air into his gloved hands. If she doesn't suspect anything, I can keep looking for the book.
And the book, he knew, was at the heart of it all. Sarah had read it to him a number of times when he was growing up and she was still living in the house. He remembered the story. Most of all he remembered the description of the cruel Goblin King. A description that matched her new husband almost too well.
He might be all charms and smiles now, but sometimes… sometimes, he looked at Toby as though he were assessing a particularly valuable object.
And sometimes, if Toby were being completely honest, Sarah looked at him the same way.
Another chorus of screeching cries turned his attention back to the yard, but it was only Taylor kicking snow on a downed Vanessa. She retaliated a moment later with a few well-placed snowballs and they were back at it again, chasing each other through the drifts and around the trees.
And what had happened to Sarah? Toby thought.
His parents may not see it, may be blinded by the fact that she was married now and had a son, a grandchild to dote on, but Toby wasn't fooled. There was something different about his sister. Something he couldn't quite put his finger on. It made him feel uneasy every time she and her husband Jared came to visit.
"Jared," he muttered aloud. "Like Jareth from the story."
Just another coincidence he couldn't quite ignore.
###
The scrying pool showed a watery, upside-down impression of the fair-haired brother of the Goblin Queen. "The boy is suspicious."
A hooded figure shifted, and the sound of scales sliding against fabric made the air seem alive with an alien music. The seer tightened her grip on the bowl of clear water and waited, her eyes focused on the image within.
"Yes," the hooded figure hissed. "It is nearly time."
The seer licked dry, cracked lips. The only water available was not to drink. To drink it would be death. "He might need a push."
The hooded figure chuckled, and the cavern filled with the sound. Bare branches scratching along a pane of glass. Cruel talons run over a sheet of steel. The seer felt the hair down her spine stand on edge.
"It is already in motion. Watch, now, and tell me all of what you see." The last word was breathed out like the wind through a chink in the door.
The seer shuddered and skimmed her thumb along the surface of the pool. The image wavered and shifted outward to encompass the other two mortals playing in the snow. The seer's lips moved, recounting each movement and words of the mortals as they unfolded. Her companion remained silent, but the seer could feel the energy building in the air. Tendrils of magic seeped through the thin spot between the worlds toward the Goblin Queen's adopted kin.
###
"What was that?"
Jareth looked up from the report. His wife, radiant as always, stood between his desk and the door to the study. The sickle-shaped pendant gleamed at her throat where she wore it on the short chain, and her head was tilted a little to one side, her gaze out toward one of the many windows that opened upon a view of the goblin city.
Jareth glanced between the window and Sarah. He set the parchment down, "What's wrong, Sarah?"
She reached up, stroking fingers down the gold and silver medallion. "Something," she murmured. "Something bad is happening."
The Goblin King rose, unfolding his long legs to stride over to his Queen. He ran a hand down her arm to her elbow, but even still she did not look at him. His eyes searched her face. She had a certain, far-away expression, as though she were listening to music only she could hear. He reached through their bond, but he could not sense what disturbed her.
He could feel that she was disturbed, yes, and not a little bit frightened, but other than her own unease he could feel nothing else. No stir of magic. No sense of malice.
"Sarah," he said, pitching his voice low to grab her attention. "Talk to me, my love."
She turned her head toward him, and then her eyes. Her gaze dragged over to him as her face paled. When their matching eyes locked, he saw that tears were beginning to gather in those shining orbs. "Jareth," she whispered. "Someone is attacking my family."
###
Something hit the back of his head with a dull thwack. Cursing under his breath—just in case his mother could hear through the back doors—Toby whirled, his lips pulled back to snarl at the twin menace.
Whatever words he was going to speak died as he saw that they were far on the other end of the back yard, stalking one another around the tree trunks.
Frowning, he looked around. And then he spotted it.
The book was the same red cover with black vines he remembered seeing in Sarah's hands all those years ago. Bending, he scooped it out of the snow and brushed it off. He looked up, confused. He was too far away from the house for it to have fallen through a window, and all the windows were shut against the cold anyway.
A group of ravens perched on some of the tree branches above his head. As he looked up, some of them looked down, fixing him with their small black eyes. One, with a band of light gray around its throat, spread its massive wings and cawed in a loud, croaking scream.
"Shoo," Toby called back at it, brandishing the book overhead like a weapon. "Scram!"
The raven seemed to glare at him, hopping from one foot to another, but remained on its perch. The others around it ruffled their feathers. One flew from its original branch to a lower one, surveying a patch of bushes against the fence. Toby wondered if it was looking for mice.
No, not a mouse. Raven's don't eat mice, you idiot.
What did they eat? He couldn't remember.
But thoughts of the birds fell away when he looked back down at the book clasped in his hands. Wonder on how it had fallen on his head, on why it was out in the yard with him, flew out of his head.
Ripping off his gloves so he could easily thumb through the pages, Toby opened the book at random. His eyes flew over the words, and his fingers worked the pages back and forth, trying to find what he was looking for.
Finally he did. Near the beginning. The first description of Jareth the Goblin King.
"He had eyes of two different shades, and long, white blond hair," he read aloud, lips numb from the cold. The sound of his cousins faded away. "Tall and lean, he wore armor of leather and a long, ragged cloak." That didn't sound like Sarah's husband Jared, at least not in how he was dressed. Jared always wore suits, or turtleneck sweaters and slacks, but never armor, and never cloaks. Still, there was something about it that smacked of the familiar…
"I have brought you a gift," Toby murmured some time later. He frowned and flipped back a few pages.
Another snowball sailed past his ear and Toby almost slammed the book down in his frustration. "What did I tell you?" He called to his cousins. Then, without thinking—without even realizing—he shouted, "I wish the goblins would come and take you away, right now!"
###
Jareth felt the pull just as Sarah did. Her eyes widened and she clutched at his arm. "It's Toby," she hissed. "I know it's Toby. Jareth, please, someone is doing this. We can't!"
Jareth pressed his palms to the side of Sarah's face and leaned his forehead against hers. "We can't ignore a summoning, my love. We took a vow."
"You took the stupid vow," Sarah said. "I just married you."
He smiled sadly but felt his armor come to his call, flowing across his skin to encase every inch of him but his head. Even as the leather wrapped around his fingers, he missed the feel of her skin beneath him. "Sarah," he murmured. "I must go, and you must come with me."
She shook her head, "I can't. You know I can't."
"Take your owl form," he said. "But you must. You know that this is how it is done."
She glared at him for a moment and then sighed. She pressed her lips briefly against his, the lightest of paper kisses, and then she was in her avian form, wings flapping until he held out his arm for her to perch on. She glared at him again with amber-colored eyes. Jareth swallowed the impulse to stroke a hand down her feathered back. He could still feel her distress and, now, anger. He had the feeling he'd get an up close and personal look at her talons if he tried to touch her.
Closing his eyes, he followed the summoning to the mortal world.
###
Toby crouched behind the covered patio furniture. He could still hear the scuttling and high-pitched chuckles of the creatures hidden just out of sight. His heart pounded in his chest as the wind picked up again, howling as it ripped through the bare branches of the trees and kicked up spiraling columns of glittering snow.
Inside, the sound of the adults had faded away to nothing. Glancing through the window, he had seen the arm of his mother frozen in a toast, wine glass in hand. The smile on her face, the half-lidded slant of her eyes, never moved. She gazed unseeing at the other adults around the table, just as they looked to her.
Toby did not know what, exactly, was happening, but he had a sinking feeling he was about to find out.
The wind let out another terrible, harsh screech and then fell silent.
Toby blinked against the sting in his eyes and then rose. Immediately, something flew at his face, its form white and massive. He ducked, but not before he felt a scratch of talons on his scalp. And there, standing before him in the yard, ankle deep in snow but looking completely unaffected by it, was Sarah's husband.
Only he didn't look exactly like Jared. His eyes were mismatched, he wore dark leather armor, and a long ragged cape. He raised an arm and a snowy owl came to perch there. It shrieked at Toby when it saw him, and beat its wings, its eyes narrowed.
Toby took a step forward, even though a part of him wanted to run back into the warm house and slam the door behind him. "Who are you?" He said, trying to sound braver than he felt. "Do I call you the Goblin King or Jared?"
The man gave a little half-smile, "I think the time for deception between us has passed, Toby," he said. "You have called upon the goblins, and we came to answer that call."
Toby frowned. "You admit it then?" His voice cracked halfway through and he swallowed hard against the pounding of his heart. "You're not really a man, are you?"
"I am very much a man," the Goblin King answered. "I admit that freely."
Toby took another step forward, "Where's my sister?"
The owl screeched again and swayed from side to side, its wickedly curved talons digging deep into the leather of Jareth's arm. He smiled again, "Your sister is safe, and happy, more or less. She was distressed to hear your summoning."
Toby paused, his mouth open to let fly another accusation, and then his frown deepened. "What summoning? What are you talking about?"
The Goblin King gestured behind him at a yard which, Toby realized, was empty of the shrieking, yelling mess of the young cousins. "You wished the goblins to take away the children under your care. You summoned us here to fulfill that call, and we have."
"No," Toby said, glancing back at the house and the frozen tableau of adults inside. "No, they're going to kill me. What—I didn't mean to do that."
Jareth sighed and ran a hand down the back of the owl. Its feathers ruffled and it snapped its beak at him. He withdrew his hand. "Toby, you have one chance to retrieve your cousins… if that is what you wish to do."
Toby nodded, "Yes. I'll do anything. Please, I need to get them back. But—" he narrowed his eyes. "You and I aren't done. I want my sister back, too. Now that I know who you are, I know you're keeping her hostage in your castle."
"Am I?" The Goblin King said, smiling though his eyes glittered like chips of ice. "How interesting."
Toby started to say something, but Jareth half-turned, and he noticed that they were no longer standing in the snow-swept yard. The house and patio furnishings had disappeared. The Goblin King gestured at an expanse of twisting walls and corridors before them that stretched from horizon to horizon.
"This is my Labyrinth," he said. "You have thirteen hours to find your way to the castle at its heart, or your cousins will become one of us, forever."
The owl shrieked again and beat its wings. Toby jumped back from it and felt sand grind beneath his boots. "Jesus," he said. "You need to get a new pet. That thing is wild."
He let out an amused sound. "Wild? Yes. But she's angry with you," The Goblin King said mildly, and then went on as before. "Do you understand the terms, Toby? Thirteen hours."
He nodded, "Yeah, yeah, I get you. It's just a maze. It doesn't look too hard."
"It's harder than it looks, and time is short." He paused, "Your sister is the only one to have beaten it."
Toby glanced up sharply. "Sarah? Sarah ran the Labyrinth?"
The Goblin King nodded, "To retrieve you."
Toby swallowed hard. That was something Sarah had never told him as she read the story to him all those years ago. Why would she wish me away?
But, then again, he hadn't meant to wish away his cousins. He didn't like Taylor and Vanessa, but they didn't deserve to be taken away from their parents. They must be so scared.
Toby squared his shoulders. "Okay. I'll beat your maze. You'll see; we Williams' are strong. If my sister could do it, then so can I."
The Goblin King gave the slightest bow, "As you say. Go now," he summoned a clock, showing that they were already five minutes into the thirteen hours. "We will speak soon."
The King disappeared, his owl with him, and Toby was suddenly on his own on the wind-swept rise that showed the Labyrinth and its castle stretched out before him.
He puffed out his cheeks and then sighed.
As Sarah would have said… "Alright. Come on, feet."
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A/N:Hello again my lovelies!
Well, I do not promise to update this with the frequency of 'The Return'. I'm mainly going to write in this story when I'm feeling a block in other areas.
I do have a general idea for where this is going, but I'm a pantser (seat of, etc.) writer by nature, so I think we'll have to uncover this together.
As always, I would love your reviews. This is just the first chapter so I'm hoping to set up the feel for things. No idea when the second chapter will be coming out as I'm midway through a whole other novel at the moment.
(by the way I'm 'successfully' self-published now, you can contact me for information on those stories if you're interested)
I hope you enjoy and may the goblins be with you.
Love you lovelies.
~CS
P.S. – I wrote this A/N two days ago when I started the chapter.
Since then, as I'm sure you are all aware, there came the terrible news of David Bowie's passing. Words cannot express how sad I am at this event, though in a way I'm also happy.
Mr. Bowie left quite a legacy, and touched the hearts and minds of millions before his death. There are few people who can claim such a thing when they cross from this world into the next.
I feel thankful that I was allowed to occupy the same time and place as such a great man. As much as I love his music, this fandom is the thing which brings him the most to mind for me. I know he will be missed by each and every one of us.
So this story is dedicated, in part, to the memory of one of the greatest artists of our time.
Rest in peace, David Bowie. We love you.
