In the car I held the box of my belongings on my lap as I looked out the window. The evenly placed suburban streetlights illuminated the interior of the vehicle at even intervals as we drove down the darkened road. I could tell that my father wanted to say something to me. He was stewing in a particularly heavy brand of silence that implied he was trying to sort out how he should begin.

'Use your right words…' I thought to myself as I waited.

I couldn't stop thinking about what Karen had said and how it had set me off so badly. If she had left out my mother and all that talk about marriage than I could have handled the lecture better than I did. I would have just sat there listening to her say the same old things I'd been hearing all my life. But now that I was older and out of the house it was as though Karen believed she had some kind of right to openly badmouth my mother. And, if that weren't enough, she somehow also felt entitled to make assumptions about my love-life. I had to bite my tongue to keep myself from openly scoffing.

I had tried to explain it to my father and Karen before. I tried to take them through what I meant when I said that I just wasn't interested in people. But they didn't get it. My father would just reassure me that I was merely a late-bloomer. That one day I'd see the point of dating. Karen blamed my disinterest on the fact that I never tried. She was convinced that if I just 'put myself out there and gave it a real shot' things would click into place. She sounded like my high school science teacher. My issues with chemistry were akin to… well, my issues with chemistry.

Weather it was understanding the periodic table of elements or the boys in my gym class, the adults in my life seemed convinced that 'just trying harder' would solve all my issues. The facts simply were that no matter what I did, in either science class or within my social life, I just didn't get it. And things hadn't changed. At twenty-two I was just as baffled as I had been at seventeen. The unfortunate part was that I didn't have a word for what I felt. I didn't know how to put it into easily understandable terms. I just… wasn't interested. Boys, girls, whatever. They just didn't appeal to me in the same way they seemed to appeal to everyone else. I suppose I just couldn't see what they saw.

Sitting in the car next to my father was not the ideal time to once again pry open the Pandora's Box that was my sexuality so I shoved those thoughts aside. Besides, we were nearly at my apartment. And apparently my father had finally decided on how he was going to go about what he wanted to say to me.

"I know that you and Karen don't get along." He started, "You never really have, to be quite honest. I've always hoped that you two would get past your differences one day. And I'm not abandoning that hope. We just need to keep working on it. You were thirteen when your Mother left. And that's a tricky age in any young woman's life let-alone with the addition of that turmoil on top of things. I think, even now, you're struggling with some of those feelings. Let's try to figure out why that is."

"Please don't treat me like I'm one of your patient's, Dad." I had to fight to keep my voice under control, "I am trying with her. Really, I am. She just… has a way of getting under my skin. Especially when she starts in on Mom the way she does."

He paused for a moment then said, "I know. It's not fair. I'll talk to her about it. And I'll try not to talk to you like your sitting across from me in my office."

"Thanks, Dad." I smiled.

He pulled the car up in front of my building, "It isn't easy on any of us with you and Karen at odds all the time. I'll do whatever I can to help make things right. I really hope something will work out."

"Me too." I agreed, a little surprised to find that I meant it.

I could see the strain my ongoing feud with Karen put on him. He was caught between his daughter and his wife, after all. I could be sympathetic to that. And it couldn't be easy for Toby to watch his sister and mother constantly fight. When I moved out, I imagined that things would magically become easier. Maybe it was time to actually do something about the problem, instead. No one was going to change the stars for me anymore. That was something I would have to do for myself.

"Thanks for dinner, Dad." I said, leaning over to give him a tight hug.

"Same time next week?" He asked as I let go and opened up the car door.

I nodded as I got out, "Definitely."

"Have a good night, Sarah." My father said.

"You too." I waved before shutting the door and heading to the lobby entrance.

My father watched me until I got inside. Then he flashed his lights and drove off, just like he always did. It was kind of a tradition that started back when I was little. And it was something I appreciated. He could be rather unobservant at times. But he did care. As I took the stairs two at a time up to my floor I thought over what he had said in the car. I would just have to try even harder to make things work with Karen.

Turning my key in the lock of the front door I was greeted by the familiar click of the latch. It was a comforting sound. My apartment was small but it suited me just fine. For as long as I could remember I had always adored old buildings. I loved that almost book-like smell they always seemed to have. And it was the scent that my apartment always greeted me with when I got home. The one bedroom flat was everything I could have wanted out of my first place. I kicked the door closed behind me and abandoned my box full of stuff next to the front closet. It could be gone through later.

It wasn't really all that late, just coming up on ten, and I had some reading for one of my English classes to catch up on. Just because it was my minor didn't mean I should just ignore it in favor of my Drama assignments. Besides, Shakespeare was the best of both worlds. And it wasn't like I didn't have the time. As I came into my room I flipped on the lights and tossed my backpack onto my bed. I couldn't help but stop in front of my old vanity. I twisted the ring that sat around my right middle finger while I studied my reflection in the mirror.

Exactly one year to the day of my defeat of the Labyrinth I came home late from drama practice at school and Karen had had a fit over it. I'd rushed up to my room in a mess of tears, probably shouting that I hated her. At sixteen I still didn't have much of a handle on controlling my outbursts. I'd slammed my door and slumped down in the chair at the vanity while absolutely sobbing. And there it was. Sitting square in the center of the table was the ring I had dropped into the Wiseman's contribution box. I always suspected that Hoggle had managed to track it down for me, even though he denied it when I'd asked him about it that same night. The old softy probably just didn't want to admit that he'd wanted to do something special for the anniversary of our victory.

I couldn't help but wonder, as I stared at my reflection, how all my friends in the Underground were. I hadn't spoken to them in months. As time had gone on in my life, I found that I needed them less and less. Our meetings had become few and far between without me ever meaning for them to. I suspected it was just one of those things that happened when you weren't paying attention… growing older and growing apart.

Forcing myself to look away from the mirror I flopped down on my bed and picked up the book I had discarded there earlier that afternoon. A Midsummer Night's Dream was something I had seen staged once as a kid and had read a few times since then. I liked it. I suppose having personal experience with troublesome Fae made me sympathetic. While I read I couldn't help but imagine what my own version of the play would look like. Shades of green and gold, a stage with multiple levels and low lighting were all things that would be on the top of my list were I in charge of such a production.

"I know a bank where the wild thyme blows,

Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows,

Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine,

With sweet musk-roses and with eglantine."

I spoke the words out loud. Then, closing my eyes, I hugged the open paperback to my chest. Images of such a place wafted through my mind. I could almost see the hazy golden sunlight streaming in through the tree branches and feel the pleasant summer's breeze as it carried the scent of violets and wild flowers through the air. I suppose I must have fallen asleep as I imagined the peaceful riverbank from the play. And I dreamt myself somewhere very much like it.

I was laying amongst wildflowers in a glimmering forest. The soft, late afternoon light cast the world in shades of warm gold that caught the gossamer of insect wings as they drifted through the air around me. Everything was painted in the lush green shades of full summer. As I reclined amongst the tall grass and blossoms I could hear a familiar melody. The recognition of the song was more of a feeling than a conscious thought. It seemed to filled me up inside. I had heard it somewhere long ago. How could I have forgotten something so beautiful? How could I have possibly forgotten something that was… for me?

"Sarah."

A gentle voice called out to me, mixing with the melody. It came from within me just as much as it came from somewhere in the surrounding glen. Like the song, I felt I knew it. I'd always known it. It belonged to someone who had been with me for the entirety of my life. I knew him. I knew the way he said my name. His deep, honey sweet, tone pronounced the sounds of it in a way no one else did.

"Sarah?"

He was looking for me. I knew he was. And I wasn't afraid. I had been. Before. But not now. I rose to my feet slowly. The fabric of my golden dress, weightless as spider silk, shimmered as it flowed with my motion. I had to find him. But how? Where was he? Suddenly the world around me began to tumble away. As it faded from existence a kind of panic filled my chest. I had to find him. He needed me. I had to…

"Sarah."

My eyes opened. I was back in my own room, sprawled out across my bed. My copy of A Midsummer Night's Dream still sat open against my chest. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and sat up slowly, setting the book to one side. How long had I been out? I looked at the clock on my bedside. It was midnight. And I had that eerie feeling in the pit of my stomach that somehow I wasn't alone. Glancing around the room my attention fell back onto the vanity mirror. I nearly screamed. My hands flew over my mouth to stifle the sound as I stared, wide eyed, into the smooth glass. Through its reflection I could see my old friend Sir Didymus standing on my bed next to me This was how the mirror had always worked. Even though he wasn't really in the room, through the mirror it looked like he was.

"Didymus! You scared me nearly senseless!" I told him through my fingers.

"The deepest of apologies, Milady." He swept his hat from his head and bowed deeply as he spoke, "I did not intend to startle thee. I come to beg a most important request."

"A request?" I stood up and crossed to the mirror, "What kind of request? How's the Underground? How are Hoggle and Ludo?"

I was so thrilled to see him that I thought I might burst into tears. I hadn't realized just how badly I'd missed my friends. Sitting down at the table I studied Sir Didymus. He seemed to be studying me as well. His good eye, deep brown in colour, searched my face while the other remained hidden under his trademark eyepatch. The thick whiskers of his fox-ish face formed white eyebrows that drew together and a mustache that twitched with concern. They were a delightful contrast against the rest of his cinnamon coloured fur. And as always he was dressed in regal Tudor fashion.

"Are you quite well, Milady?" He asked, angling his head to one side.

"Of course I am." I smiled at him, "I've missed you. It's such a surprise that you're here."

"It is my regret that I do not come with better tidings." He squeaked, shaking his head sadly, "Things are in a poor way, Milady."

My heart sank in my chest, "What's happened? Didymus, what's wrong?"

"Details of exact events have yet to be uncovered." He wrung his hands anxiously, "But it is of the believe, Milady, that something horrible must have transpired up at the Castle."

"The Castle…" My mouth went dry as the words left my lips.

"Indeed, Milady." He nodded, "Things are not as they once were. Why, the very landscape reflects the turmoil we're in. Ways that were once clear are now impassable. Things that once were are no longer. The world crumbles around our very ankles. My request, Milady, is that you return and once again act as our Champion."

"What!?" My stomach felt like it was trying to crawl into my throat.

"Thou succeeded in taking the Castle once." Didymus explained, "Surely such a feat would not be impossible for thee to complete a second time."

"But…" I started.

"No one but thou canst do this, Milady." He said plainly.

The last thing I wanted was to return to that nightmare realm. The Oubliette, the Helping Hands, the Sweepers, the Bog of Eternal Stench, the Junk Yard… The Castle. Those were the places that had haunted me in both my dreams and waking life for the past seven years. And now I was being asked to go back.

"Please, Milady." He concluded, "I would not ask this of thee were I not certain that it were our only choice. We needst thee."

As I looked at Sir Didymus something inside me gave way. The desperation in his voice stopped me from protesting any further. All throughout my life, every now and again, I had needed them. And now it was my turn to be needed. The fear creeping up my back and twisting around my stomach subsided a little. I took a deep breath. My muscles relaxed as a strange calm washed over me. I had been a child the last time. And now I knew what to expect of that place. If I was going to go back, I was going to go back fully prepared. My friends needed me.

"I'll do it." I told him.

I got to my feet and snatched my backpack off the bed. I dumped what I knew I wouldn't need. Textbooks and assignment sheets spread themselves over my bedding as I reorganized the pack. Didymus chattered excitedly, thanking me and reaffirming his faith in me, as I shoved things into the bag. Extra clothes, flashlight, duct tape. Whatever I had on hand that I thought might be useful went in. When the backpack was crammed full I pulled it on over my shoulders and turned back to the mirror.

"How do I get back?" I asked my friend.

Didymus drew his brows together, "Oh… well… Certainly thou must return by the same path thou camest before, Milady."

He seemed self-satisfied with his answer, puffing himself up proudly.

Then he angled his head to one side again and asked, "By… what way did thou cometh by before?"

How had I done it the first time? One moment I was at home and the next I wasn't. He had taken me there. So how was I supposed to get back without him? How was I…? The answer seemed to unfolded itself simply as I contemplated it.

"I have to make a wish." I said slowly.

It was the only explanation. I hadn't made a single one since I'd wished Toby away. Not even on birthday candles and definitely not on stars. I understood the power those words held, now. My life had rotated around carefully avoiding them. At least until this moment. I took another deep breath and closed my eyes. Now… how did that go again?

"I wish to return to the Labyrinth." The words flowed from my lips effortlessly, "Right now."

A breeze filled with the scent of electricity, wild flowers and honey washed over me, brushing my hair back from my face. I opened my eyes. The glass in my mirror seemed to flow about in its frame like molten silver. In the distorted surface I no longer saw myself. I seemed to be looking out at a forest. Sir Didymus stood there, small, amongst the tall grass and trees. I knew what I had to do. Without pausing to second guess myself, I plunged through the viscous surface of the mirror. The world broke away into shards of dazzling light and colour. I was falling through the gap between worlds. Then, almost as soon as it had begun, it ended.

And I was back.