The Binding
A Story by Gevurah
"Though nothing will keep us together, we could steal time- just for one day." - David Bowie, "Heroes"
Chapter One The Call
Like a pearl set against black velvet, the moon shone brightly in the night sky. Below it, the town was asleep. It was small, as towns went, with only a handful of streets crisscrossing the dark earth. Still, it was large enough to have garnered the attention of warehouse supermarkets and chain home improvement stores. It even had it's very own WalMart. These buildings and a smattering of fast food shacks lined the west side of the town. But our story does not take place here.
Our story takes place on the opposite side of town. It is there that the town's old commercial district stands, ever faithful to the ghost of a long dead railroad. These old buildings still bear the stamp of a by-gone era. These are what drew Sarah Williams to this place. Most of the buildings are now falling into disrepair, but Sarah could still see the beauty that lingered. All of her life, Sarah had been drawn to the old and forgotten, so it was only natural that she would make her home in one of these buildings. It is here, in front of Sarah's three story walk up, that our story begins.
The night air shimmered and the street lamps that lined the empty street flickered before blinking out, one by one. The street collapsed into darkness and all was still and silent. The night waited.
Then, a single street light blinked back to life. It was followed by another, and another, until the entire street was restored and the silent night was filled with the gentle hum of fluorescents awakening.
It was as if nothing had ever happened at all.
Except that something was different. Two people now stood on the sidewalk, a man and woman. Their arms were around each other in what could have been mistaken for a lovers embrace, had it not been for their tightly closed eyes and tense expressions. The man relaxed first. He opened his eyes and saw that they were indeed in one piece and the world had not ended. The woman, feeling his arms drop, opened her eyes as well and stepped away from the man. She looked up at the building before them and smiled.
"Home, at last," Sarah said.
"Yes," the man said, scratching at his thick, full beard. "I'm afraid we kept you away longer than we should have."
"It's alright," she said. "I'm just glad I could help."
His solemn expression sobered even further. "Lady Sarah, we are in your debt. We will never be able to repay you for your kindness-"
Sarah interrupted him with a good natured wave of her hand. "Oh, nonsense, Gerald. You've already paid me more than I could have expected." She took his hands in hers and smiled up at him. "Go in peace, friend. There are no debts between us."
Gerald's smile was fond. "You will always be a friend to the Window Men. If you ever have need of us-"
"I'll call," she finished. "Goodbye, Gerald."
She watched as Gerald was there one moment, and gone the next. When she was alone, Sarah sighed and rubbed at her eyes tiredly. She was exhausted. She turned and headed into her building. Out of habit, she stuck her hand into her mailbox before opening the security door. There shouldn't have been anything waiting for her, but her fingers encountered a single, slim envelope. Frowning, she pulled it out and peered at it in the thin light of the street lamps.
No return address, no stamp, only her name in an old-fashioned slanting script. It thrummed with magic, but it didn't feel malevolent. It felt... familiar, somehow. Sarah closed her eyes to concentrate on the feeling, but closing her eyes only reminded her how dead tired she was. Deciding further investigation could wait until morning, Sarah put her key in the lock and trudged up the stairs to her second floor apartment. Each footstep rang in her ears like a mantra. Food, shower, sleep.
Sarah closed the door to her apartment and let her bag fall from her shoulder to the floor, heedless of where it landed. She trudged single mindedly to the couch, tossing her keys and the letter onto the coffee table in the process. She peeled off her jacket and deliberately collapsed face first into the comfort of the couch cushions. Sarah lay there for a long moment, reveling in the softness and warmth. Home. Eventually, she kicked off her shoes and rolled to her back, her thoughts turning to food and a hot shower. She couldn't remember how long it had been since she'd had a decent one of either.
Sarah sat up and took in her surroundings. Though this hadn't been the first time she left in the middle of everything, it still felt unsettling to return and find that everything, quite literally, just as it was when she left. She could hear the microwave humming in the kitchen as it heated up her forgotten mug of tea, and Cary Grant was still mercilessly teasing Katherine Hepburn in black and white on the television. She covered her eyes with the back of her hand, dreading the dull thum of a headache she knew would soon awaken. Skipping time had consequences. The microwave dinged. Her tea was ready.
Sarah sighed and rolled herself to her feet. Shower first, she decided, then food.
---
Forty minutes later, Sarah's hot water heater was empty and her dinner had replaced the tea in the microwave. Sarah was on the couch in her bathrobe and favorite pink flannel pajamas, winding her wet hair up into a towel. On the television, Cary and Katherine had moved from teasing to moonlit drunken declarations of love.
In the hall closet, the towel that covered the medicine cabinet mirror slipped and pooled to the floor.
The first thing Sarah had done when she moved into the apartment was remove that mirror. She would have broken it, but didn't dare. In her line of work, bad luck could be life threatening. So she wrapped it in an old bath towel and hid it in the closet. Her friends thought it was deliciously eccentric, but Sarah knew it was just good sense. Mirrors were dangerous. You never knew who could be watching you, or - worse yet- who would use said mirror as its own personal doorway into your life.
Within the closet, the mirror began to glow softly before collapsing into an unnatural cavern of darkness. A pale, bloodied hand thrust itself out of the depths. The hand pulled itself forward, revealing a bloodied arm and, eventually, a dirty shoulder and bowed head.
On the couch, Sarah's nerves were finally mellowing. It had been so long since she had had a decent night's sleep and it was becoming harder and harder to stay awake. She leaned back into the cushions, feeling the tension ebb away. Sarah closed her eyes.
A crash from the hallway jolted Sarah upright. She blinked and scrubbed at her eyes. Had she fallen asleep? When a low keening moan caught her attention, Sarah's head jerked in the direction of the sound. Reaching beneath the couch, Sarah yanked the towel turban from her head, she pulled out the bat she kept in case of emergencies and stood to her feet.
Once, Sarah would have been frightened, but now she knew better. Her wards around the apartment were not broken. She could feel the crackle of their protection against her skin as she moved on silent feet across the living room to the hallway. Whatever it was that had entered her apartment wasn't going to hurt her-- at least that wasn't their main intent. Still, Sarah thought as she hefted the bat and flexed her fingers around the handle, better safe than sorry.
Her warrior stance faltered slightly when the pitiful creature that had invaded her home came into view. It was human, Sarah could tell that much. The sex and age were bit more difficult to deduce. The slight frame and long dark hair didn't mean much when it came the Otherworlds, where the line between man and woman sometimes blurred. Underneath the grime, the skin was pale where it peeked from behind filthy clothes. Sarah stopped her evaluation, her heart lurching. No. It couldn't be.
The poor pitiful creature was wearing pink flannel pajamas with little red hearts. Sarah looked down at her own pants: pink flannel pajamas with little red hearts. Her stomach lurched sickeningly and Sarah was suddenly very glad she hadn't eaten yet. The creature on the floor before her groaned, and Sarah's gaze snapped up. Green eyes met green eyes. Sarah's knees gave out and the baseball bat fell to the floor with a thump as she slumped against the wall. Sarah looked down at herself, disbelieving.
The other Sarah raised her head weakly. "Save Jareth," she said, reaching forward with a bloodied hand. Sarah found herself memorized by the movement. It was obvious that the other Sarah was hurt, badly. "You have to save Jareth," she pleaded. "I tried, but I was too late." She met Sarah's eyes. "Agate eagles agree," she said clearly.
Sarah sank to the carpet beside herself, horrified. It was her safety phrase. Sarah had strict rules about safety phrases. They're only be used in the most dire emergencies and she never used one more than once. But this particular safety phrase was brand new. No one knew it yet- except Sarah. The world reeled.
"Save Jareth," the other Sarah said again, her breathing labored, "promise me." She looked up at Sarah, and Sarah recognized the stubborn glint in her eyes. She clutched at Sarah's bathrobe. "Promise me."
"I promise," Sarah said, flustered and shocked and suddenly feeling very queer. Something was very, very wrong.
"Good," the other Sarah breathed. Her hand to fell to the floor with exhaustion. It was then that Sarah first noticed the blood. It had soaked into the carpet beneath the other Sarah and when the other woman shifted, Sarah could see the dark stain. It was a lot of blood. Sarah began to panic.
She pulled the other Sarah into her arms, her hands desperately flying over the other woman's body. "No, no, no," she mumbled to herself, as she searched for the source. The other Sarah coughed wetly. It was a horrible sound. Comprehension dawned. "This isn't happening," Sarah said, shoving aside the other Sarah's filthy shirt. There it was, a ragged black hole set into her chest just below her heart. Vomit lurched in Sarah's throat.
The other Sarah pushed Sarah's hands away. "Save Jareth," she said. "Not me."
Sarah had seen many things in her life, some of them dark and a great many of them scary, but Sarah had never witnessed anything as horrifying as watching herself die in her own arms.
---
Sarah flew through the apartment. A tiny voice in the back of her mind that insisted that she stop and think for just one second, but Sarah ignored it. She knew she might be caught in a time loop, but that didn't really matter at this point. Traveling back through time was tricky at best and downright dangerous at worst. That her future self risked the repercussions of traveling back through time meant that the situation was dire. Besides, Sarah knew deep within her soul that she would do anything to save Jareth if he needed saving. Corny, but true nonetheless.
Sarah was nothing if not loyal. She would cross the Otherworlds to save a friend in need, and whether he liked it or not, Sarah considered Jareth a friend. Since running the Labyrinth, Sarah had spent the years immersed in the Otherworld. She learned that the Goblin King was only a minor villain, if he even qualified as a villain at all. After what she had seen of the truly dark parts of the universe, the Goblin King clocked in on the low end of the evil scale. And Sarah would admit (only to herself, never aloud) that she was actually rather fond of him. It was a faded sort of fondness, born of the ghost of her last childhood fantasy.
Shedding her bathrobe, she grabbed a pair of socks from the dresser and pulled them on, trying not to let her thoughts dwell on the body in the hallway. She knew it probably wasn't right to just leave herself lay there like that, but Sarah figured it was her own body (as gruesome as that thought may be) and surely her future self understood her motives.
Back in the living room, Sarah pulled on her well worn hiking boots and jacket and rescued her bag from the floor beside the door. Looping her bag over her head and shoulder, she grabbed her keys and took one last look around her. Satisfied she wasn't forgetting anything, she closed her eyes and with a deep breath, cleared her mind. From the depths of her bag, she pulled forth a stone the color of pure cobalt. It warmed in a friendly manner to her touch and Sarah's lips curled into a tight-lipped smile. She may view Jareth with friendliness, but she wasn't so naive to believe that he would feel the same. She doubted she would be welcome where she intended to go. A little extra outside help found in the stone would add the needed oomph to pierce the veil.
Sarah took a deep breath. "I wish the goblins would come and take me away, right now."
Nothing happened.
She tried again. "I wish the goblins would come and take me away, right now." The air around her seemed to expand and contract, as if it was trying to obey her command but was unable to do so. Fear slid down her spine. She thumbed the stone and brought it to her lips. "Take me to Jareth," she breathed against its smooth surface, her heart full of fear and longing. Magic words, the apartment seemed to whisper as it faded away.
Next Time on The Binding:
A wicked sounding cough came from mist and Sarah's head whipped to her left, tracking the sound. Something was there that hadn't been there before. At the furthest reaches of her vision she could just make out a dark shape slumped against the ground. It coughed wetly again. Sarah didn't need to be told who it was. She glanced briefly back at the statue, but it's eyes had gone cold again. She had been dismissed.
Sarah ran toward Jareth, one hand on the strap of her bag that lay across her chest, the other clutching the stone. As she neared, the Goblin King's form became more distinct and she could make out the exhausted set of his shoulders and the limp way his hair and clothes lay about him. Something was very wrong.