The Labyrinth was silent. No goblins tittered with glee, no Fireys shrieked at passersby…no music came from the palace.

It was as though time had stopped.

But it hadn't—oh, no.

Someone was in the palace.

That someone lay, draped across a stone bench with his dark cloak drawn tight about him. In one gloved hand, he held a silver-wrought mirror. In the other, he held a knife.

xXx

It's only forever

Not long at all…

"Sarah."

Not long…

"Sar. Wake up!"

Only forever…

"Hey!" Somebody gave Sarah a rough shove. She started awake and sat up, blinking blearily.

"W-what—"

"Geez, Sarah, took you long enough." Standing next to Sarah was a small, freckled girl with feathered golden hair and blue eyes. This was Veronica Kieretty—Ronny for short.

"Sorry, Ron," Sarah apologized, stifling a yawn. "How long was I out?"

"Like half the class, dweeb." Ronny rolled her eyes. "Thank goodness Mr. Carpenter wasn't paying any attention. He was too busy giving Derek the riot act."

"What'd Derek do?" Sarah stacked her papers and notebooks into a pile and shoved them into her backpack.

"I don't know, probably forgot another paper or something. I quit paying attention."

Sarah laughed. "So did I." she stood up and slung her backpack over one shoulder.

"Yeah, no kidding." Ronny nudged Sarah gently in the ribs as they began to walk out of the empty classroom. "One minute you're all focused on adverbs and stuff, the next you're drooling on your desk—and that wasn't even the worst part."

"Uh-oh," Sarah sighed. In the distance, a bell sounded, signaling that they were late for lunch.

"You're telling me. I mean, who sings in their sleep? You're a freak, Williams."

"I know," Sarah grinned. "A real weirdo, huh?" She cleared her throat and walked a little faster. This wasn't the first time she'd dreamed about the Labyrinth and its strange inhabitants, and she was certain that it wouldn't be the last. Usually the dreams seemed surreal, just repeats of moments spent in the maze that she'd entered in an effort to save her baby brother—the junk lady handing her Lancelot, Hoggle grumping around the Bog of Eternal Stench, Ludo roaring for his rock pals…

She and Ronny entered the lunch room and took their places in line. Sarah listened as Ronny described a party that was coming up that weekend—it was going to be at her house, of course, and it was going to be totally awesome so Sarah was obligated to go…no, Ronny didn't care that Sarah was supposed to babysit that night, this was going to be the party of the century and she had to come.

"Besides," Ron said in closing, "My brother got a keg."

"A what?" Sarah asked.

"A keg! You know, Sarah…" Ronny leaned forward and stage-whispered in her friend's ear. "Beer!"

Sarah pulled back and looked down at Ronny. "Um…" she swallowed. "I'm not—"

"Hold up," Ronny held up a hand. "We're almost to the front, get food and then we'll talk."

Sarah nodded quietly and brushed a stray piece of long, dark hair behind her ear. She gave the lunch lady her number and took a tray heaped with rice and some kind of questionable sauce. She slid down the line and took a spoonful of salad, and some carrot cake as well.

"Oh, look," Ronny said, dancing over to the end of the line. "They got fruit today—peaches." She held up a perfect, orange sphere. "My favorite!"

Sarah wrinkled her nose. "I'll pass."

"What, you don't like peaches?"

In Sarah's mind's eye, she could picture Hoggle handing her the tender fruit just as she started whining about being hungry. She remembered the intoxicating scent and the wonderful burst of taste in her mouth as she bit into it.

She remembered also, all too clearly, the frightening and alluring ballroom filled with masked ladies and gentlemen. She remembered the glass walls and the disdainful laughs, and the feel of the Goblin King's hand on the small of her back as he swept her into the whirl of dancers.

She looked at Ronny and smiled. "You could say that."

xXx

"Toby," Sarah called, dropping her backpack to the floor with a thunk, "Guess who's home?"

The pitter-patter of little footsteps rattled the china that hung on the wall near the door. Sarah grinned and swept the three year old boy into her arms just as he prepared to launch himself, torpedo-style, into her knees.

"Sawah, Sawah!" He squealed, kicking his legs happily as she swung him around in a bear hug.

"That's the name, tiger," Sarah set Toby back down on the ground. In the past two years, he'd grown into a tubby little toddler with an enthusiastic love of dirt and trouble. Today, his fingers were covered in multicolor smudges of paint. A dribble of chocolate milk adorned the collar of his shirt.

"Where'd you get this," Sarah asked, playfully tugging at his fingertips.

"Mommy 'n I paint wocks!"

"Oh yeah? I bet the rocks liked that."

Toby grinned and bounced up and down. "Come see, come see!" he squealed, and then he was off, dashing back through the house towards the patio.

Sarah unbuttoned her coat and dropped it by her backpack. She kicked off her shoes as well, and slid through the house in stocking feet. Sure enough, on the back patio sat her stepmom, bouncing a chattering Toby on her knee. Her fair hair looked frazzled and she had a rainbow handprint on one side of her face, but she still smiled when she saw Sarah.

"How was school?"

"Good," Sarah shrugged. "I learned…stuff." She looked up at her stepmother and managed a little smile as well. In the past couple of years, she supposed it could be said that she and Karen had…found common ground, formed a shaky truce of sorts.

"Sawah," Toby wailed from his mother's lap, "Look at the wocks!" He pointed at a tarp on one end of the deck. "Pwetty!"

Sarah turned and crawled over to the tarp. She picked up one smooth river rock that had been covered in neon green, black, and brown splotches.

"Nice, Tobes," she glanced over at her brother. "What is it?"

Toby frowned and looked at his sister like she should have known right from the start.

"C'mon, tell me," Sarah pleaded.

Toby, easily placated, smiled again and said "'S the Goblin King!"

Sarah looked from the mottled stone to her brother and then back to the stone.

"The Goblin King?" Sarah said, trying not to laugh as she thought of the contrast between this and the immaculate, well-groomed being that had kidnaped Toby two years ago. "Seriously?"

"Yep!" Toby wiggled off Karen's lap and walked over to pick up another rock, this one a brilliant red with orange splashes. "An' this is a Fiwey," he put it down and pointed to another one. "An' that's Hoggle, an' that's a…" he became lost in his explanations. Karen slid off her chair and went to sit next to Sarah.

"You've been telling him those stories again," she said.

"He loves them."

"Your father and I told you not to."

"He asked." Sarah returned her step-mother's steely gaze. "They're just stories, Karen."

"Strange stories! I don't want Toby's mind filled with all that-all that nonsense!"

Sarah raised her eyebrows. "Oh, so my Labyrinth is more nonsense than that story you tell at Christmas—the one with your dead aunt?"

"That's a true story, it doesn't teach children to misbehave—"

"Oh no, it teaches them that if your dead aunt magically appears to you in a dream, you get to keep all their jewelry!"

"She wanted—"

"No, she—"

"Sawah—"

"Not right now, Tobes." Sarah stood up and glared at Karen. "I have homework to do." She stormed back inside and slammed the door behind her.

Karen heaved a sigh and looked over at her son, who looked like he was about to burst into tears.

"Sawah mad," he wailed, toddling towards her.

"Shoot," Karen muttered, holding out her arms for him. "No she's not." Through the walls of the house, she could hear her step-daughter give a frustrated shout.

"Not at you, anyway."

xXx

Sarah collapsed on her bed. "Hoggle, I need you now," she groaned. "We fought again—Karen doesn't want me telling Toby stories about you guys anymore and dad backs her up. Can you believe it? You know Toby loves hearing about you guys. I can't just stop."

She rolled over and looked up at the ceiling. "Maybe I could make them understand," she mused. "Convince them that it's not something bad, it's just like any other fairytale…only different?" Sarah sat up. "What do you think?"

She looked around her empty bedroom.

"Hoggle?"

No answer.

"Ludo?"

Nothing.

Sarah slid off her bed and peeked under it, then stood back up.

"Anybody?"

xXx

The man put the mirror down beside the knife on the floor and leaned back against the smooth stone wall.

"Oh, my dear Jareth," he tut-tutted, pulling delicately at the fingers of the leather gloves he wore. "She's not even beautiful."

His voice echoed slightly, giving his voice a strange, ethereal tone. He smiled—something that, on his chiseled face, seemed as unnatural as a fashion-conscious Goblin—and tossed his gloves carelessly to the ground, where they mingled with the rest of the goblin muck. His fingers were pale and long, with nails filed to sharp points as though to imitate claws.

"And such a temper too," the man stepped gingerly over a dented helmet that lay sideways on the tile. His boot heels clicked loudly against the stone. "What fun she will be to play with."

The man turned his head to look at the unconscious figure of the Goblin King, crumpled at the foot of his throne.

The man laughed.