PART ONE
Nine-year-old Regina crouched atop the hayloft, careful to keep her body still. She had originally come here to the stables to saddle up her pony Cenzo for a ride along the estate only to discover the large barn doors open and none of the six horse grooms inside. For a moment, Regina had stood still in utter puzzlement. Why was no one tending to the horses? A heartbeat later, she received her answer when she heard several cackles followed by indignant neighs.
Her curiosity aroused, Regina had easily slipped in through the stable doors and up one of the ladders without being seen. It did not even remotely enter her brain that what she was doing was reckless- she was, after all, only nine years old. Now she gazed down from her perch, intent on seeing what was causing the horses such annoyance and had caused the six horse grooms to neglect their duties. She found herself utterly speechless both with disbelief and rage. Down in the stall directly below her was Cenzo, his usual gentle demeanor somewhat soured by the antics of the three little horned creatures that were present. One was standing on the edge of the closed stall door in the act of trying to mount Cenzo but lost its balance, fell forward, and landed on the floor with a small thud. The two other creatures on the ground cackled at their fellow while simultaneously baiting the irritated horse. Cenzo in turn stomped his hooves and neighed in disgust. His neighs were echoed by his equine cousins in the adjoining stables…
Regina had had quite enough. She hated to see animals in torment, especially Cenzo, and found herself wishing that she had magic to teach these intruders a lesson. Her mother had always carefully guarded the secrets of her own magic, leaving Regina with absolutely no inkling of how magic was done. But Regina knew this much- magic was centered on the practitioner's emotions. It only made sense that the same logic applied to physical force as well. She tore her gaze away from Cenzo and the goblins (she recognized them as such based upon a picture she had seen in one of the tomes in her mother's library) and looked around her to see if there was anything that she could use to stop what she considered a violent act toward animals. Her eyes fell upon a small bucket containing three apples, and she felt the lower half of her face break into an unmistakably devious smile.
Within the space of two heartbeats, the bucket was empty and lay haphazardly on its side. Regina took careful aim at the would-be goblin rider that was just getting to his feet and flung an apple down at him with all her might. Her effort was rewarded with the satisfying sight of the apple landing on the goblin's pointy head with a sharp CRACK! The creature did not even let out a cry of pain as he collapsed to the ground for a second time. Not wanting the remaining two goblins to express timely reactions to their comrade's plight, Regina employed the other apples in the same manner. Once she had descended to the stable's ground floor, she gingerly stepped around the unconscious goblins (inhaling an unpleasant whiff of drink and body stench as she did so) and spent a few moments soothing a stressed Cenzo. It was after she retrieved the apples from the floor that her eyes fell upon the equestrian lead hanging from its wall peg. And then a whole new idea formed in her mind.
Her mother was always telling Regina that she (Regina) needed to be more assertive, that she needed to be willing to "get her hands dirty." Although Regina was not quite certain what her mother meant by this, it would be nice to receive commendation for her actions instead of a lecture. Unfortunately, her parents were both away fulfilling some duties at her grandfather's court. Regina knew this was something she'd have to do herself. Quickly and without giving her plan a second thought, Regina attached the looped end of the lead through the three goblins' corded chokers (she held her breath so as not to breathe in their unwashed scent) and secured it to the upper half of the lead with one of her pins. She never knew how long it took her to haul the brigands out of the stables and into the estate's small dungeon without being caught by any of the estate's servants (particularly with the goblins' pungent odor). All she knew was that the trek involved a lot of doubling back and concealing the four of them beneath or behind whatever structures were present in the vicinity.
Once she had deposited her lode in one of the three cells, Regina felt sure that her mother would commend her for her skill in dealing with the trespassers. She closed the doors behind her, knowing that there was no way for the goblins to escape from their cell. Its door and all the doors in the dungeon could only be sealed or unsealed by blood magic. In other words, only Regina (or Cora herself) could unlock the dungeon's cell doors either manually or by magic. Feeling immensely satisfied with herself, Regina left the dungeon and ventured off in search of a fresh sweet from the kitchens.
….
If he had to listen to one more goblin's pathetic excuse for plastering chicken feathers all over his grand armoire, he would chuck the whole lot of them in the Bog of Eternal Stench and call it a night! Not for the first time, Jareth the Goblin King sat sprawled in his stone-carved throne (legs draped over one of the stone armrests and riding crop in hand) with a strong desire to knock goblin heads together.
According to the latest roll call (a mind-numbing human ritual he had installed to keep track of his impish subjects), three of his youngest goblins were missing from the ranks and only a few hours remained until the curfew went into effect. Jareth did not much care where his minions spent the time they had outside of his court, but it was imperative that they returned to the Underground at a certain time. If they did not do so, he would have to mention it in his nightly quota to the High Council (something he did NOT look forward to doing) and explain just how it was that such a travesty had occurred on his watch. With his luck, they would sentence him to a vast load of paperwork likely to keep him occupied until the next millennium. He had only omitted the quota from his communication missives just once and the Council's response had been enough to compel him never to do so again. When he finally got his hands on the three truant goblins, Jareth promised himself that their punishment would be severe…if only he could come up with a punishment terrifying enough to prompt all his subjects to punctual attendance (apart from the usual threat involving the Bog of Eternal Stench).
He was interrupted in his thoughts by Carantok, his Goblin Captain of the Guard, clearing his throat. "Well, what have you to report?" Jareth demanded, trying to keep from snapping at the goblin. Carantok had somewhat more intelligence than most of his fellow goblins and his unswerving loyalty to Jareth had earned him the latter's gratitude in more than one difficult situation. Thus, Jareth did his best (not always with success) to not take his frustration out on this steadfast of goblins.
As always, Carantok stood at attention when addressing his monarch. "The huntin' parties can't find no sign of them anywhere, sire," he said regretfully, his deep voice not quite empty of nervousness. "The last time anyone saw those three, they was headin' along the borders of Misthaven."
Jareth sat up straighter in his throne- he had not expected his goblins to wander that far. To the Otherworld, maybe. To the Kingdom of Opona, possibly. But not Misthaven- that was one of the realms magically barred to Underground goblins. "What in the Underground's name could they possibly hope to do there?" he wondered aloud, momentarily forgetting his irritation. From Jareth's limited knowledge of the place, Misthaven was full of all sorts of beings more than capable of doing great harm to his goblins. And while the idiotic little creatures were often more trouble than they were worth, they were his responsibility. Carantok, knowing from personal experience not to answer his monarch when the latter was voicing a rhetorical question, remained silent.
A few moments of silence followed before Jareth brought himself out of his musings and had to prompt his Captain to continue. "Did you think to send reinforcements out to Misthaven to confirm their whereabouts once it was clear that the three imbeciles had crossed the barrier?" the Goblin King demanded, the words coming out between almost-clenched teeth.
Inwardly wishing he could deliver better news, Carantok nevertheless stood his ground and told his monarch the truth. "I tried to, but the realm's magical wall is too strong. Knocked my men back like cannonballs, it did. I dun even know how the three tykes even got across in the first place."
Jareth's brain was racing. If the three goblins had made it (unhurt) through the magical barriers that separated Misthaven from the Underground, it could only be because one of the walls had a weak spot, probably unintentionally created by a novice spellcaster. Such weak spots opened and closed infrequently, making it difficult for average nonmagical individuals to come and go between the realms. Fortunately for Jareth, he was the Goblin King and as such possessed more than enough power to override the magical barriers. He did not at all like the idea of having to go and get back his goblins personally, but he hated even more the thought of dealing with the High Council. Its members would gladly seize upon any excuse to remove him from power and that was not something he wanted. Gods knew that they already looked upon him as less than fit to rule the Underground- thanks to his last runner and the whole affair with the Labyrinth. No, he could not think of her. He would not.
"Should I round up another goblin squad and have another go at them walls?" Carantok asked, again interrupting Jareth's thoughts and bringing him back to the present.
"No," said Jareth quietly. "I will deal with this problem myself."
END OF PART ONE
