Disclaimer: I own nothing of Labyrinth, Jareth, Sarah, crystal orbs, or oubliettes. Any obvious train-related engineering flaws are my mistakes; I've done a bit of guess-hazarding.

Rated: T for bad language.

I'm glad to be back with this fic. Read and review - I long for your feedback, and who knows? It may lead me to update more quickly.

Thanks to Imbrium for the crit. Also: KnifeEdge? Your turn.


Thrice Upon a Time

Chapter 2


"Just fear me, love me, do as I say, and I will be your slave ..."

Sarah looked into his eyes – those strange eyes, flashing at her from beneath the upswept brows in that hatchet face … that strange face, his strange form already turning into that of an owl …

And when an owl, he would fly away from her …

Were those feathers braided into his hair? Or hair braided into feathers? Or were they all turning, the one into the other, even as he would turn, and fly, and she would turn, and leave?

She felt a hard lump in her throat. She would leave, and all the magic would fly from her world, away with him, to where it belonged. No longer with her, but with him …

"Farewell ..." she thought. "Farewell, forever ..."

Sarah knew she would say the words. "My will is as strong as yours; my kingdom as great," and then, and then – "You have no power over me!" And the magic would be gone, flown away like a ghost fleeing the morning.

She closed her eyes at the sorrow of it – the weight of the moment of change – the step that would take her from being a child to being grown-up. A small step, a simple one, but irrevocable.

"Sarah?" His breath was warm on her hair.

wait

Her eyes flew open. How how did I

She had taken one step forward, and he was there, his eyes glittering into hers from where he stood, poised to fly, his face less than a hands-breadth from her own.

Looking back into his eyes, Sarah realized that this victory – you have no power over me – this victory meant he would be gone, that he and magic would fly away together, and she would never see either again -

Moved by an impulse she did not understand, as the lump in her throat sank and grew into an ache in her heart, she reached up to touch his cheek.

Jareth's eyes widened.

The flutter of change around him paused – time seemed to slow – and she could almost smell the magic, crackling between them like ozone, drawing as tight as a rope pulled taut –

"Goodbye," Sarah whispered. Then she stood on tiptoe, and kissed him.

A strange sound. A snap, or maybe it was a spark – something that she saw, like lightning, but small? - but her eyes were closed - all she felt was the strangeness of her lips pressed on his. It was like trying to kiss ice, or a red-hot coal – a hummingbird flutter against her mouth – something unreal, something quicksilver, changing too fast for her to catch, but centered on her, flying rapid circles around her – too fast – she felt dizzy – she didn't understand –

Jareth snatched her wrist in a grip like iron, and she yelped, because it hurt.

"What are you –"

But then she looked into his eyes.

And Sarah didn't need to see their blaze, didn't need to feel his other hand catch her shoulder before she could run – didn't need to hear the clock's gears grind and fall into the hour with a crash and a clang

She didn't need to understand Jareth's smile to realize that she had just made a terrible mistake.


"No –"

Her eyes flew open as she woke with a jerk.

Trees were moving past the window in a dark blur. Rain pattered down the glass, and a foggy patch marked where she had breathed in her sleep.

Her neighbor was engrossed in the crossword and listening to music. An old woman near the front of the train car was knitting; a young girl with a mop of yellow hair was reading a book. Her neck had a crick in it. She was safe – on the train …

And the memory … her dream …

That dream

Sarah wound her fingers together and shook her head once, hard. She hadn't had it in such a long time, and yet there it was. The dream of –

She stared down at her whitened knuckles.

"The wrong choice."

Hearing her own voice, quiet but steady, reassured her, helped her quash the memory.

A false memory. A lie. Because it never happened.

"Wrong choice," Sarah told herself, lightly. "Fear me, love me, do as I say, and I will be your slave – oh, but forget about the baby, Sarah. Forget about your home Sarah. Forget about your life, forget about your mind, forget about everything but me, me, me –"

She broke off as the intercom crackled to life.

"Greenfield, next stop. All for Greenfield. Please check for all your bags before leaving the train. Greenfield is next."

Her seatmate took off his iPod and folded his newspaper, lumbered to his feet, stepped to the car exit without a backward glance.

Feeling strangely blank, Sarah hoisted her purse from between her feet and let it fall into the now-empty place beside her. She cast an eye to the cordoned-off luggage area to check on her suitcase – fine – and glanced down at her red umbrella, lying in a puddle on the floor – also fine

"Everything's fine," she whispered. "It's over. I won – again – and he's gone for good. He's gone – he's a fairy tale, for God's sake –"

Sarah cut herself off and stared out of the window. Sometime in the middle of her distraction, the train had begun to move again. The trees flickered, too fast to see, even had it been light outside – which it wasn't …

She shivered. So dark … An early evening in May, and it was dark as night …

A rumble of thunder explained why, and a sudden gust of wind made the train car rock slightly.

"Everything's fine," Sarah told herself.

Why, then, did she feel so nervous?

Sarah glared at her dim reflection in the window, as thunder growled again. "Ooh, I'm so scared." She clapped a hand to her face. "It was a dark and stormy night, and our intrepid heroine knew that the forces of evil would do anything to keep her from getting to her grandmother's hou – oh !"

Oh, shit – shit, I forget when I fell asleep

She had dozed off after boarding the train, cushioned in her coat from the unseasonable chill. And she had forgotten to return her mother's calls – shit what if it's important? – Sarah rummaged through her purse for her cell phone, and then checked her pockets. It was a matter of seconds to find the missed calls – that's right – seven of them – what could – and to punch the right button.

The other end rang.

"Come on …"

It kept ringing.

"Come on, Linda," Sarah muttered. "Pick up. Pick up."

As if on cue, her mother's voice sounded over the line.

"Hello – hello who's this?"

"Mom? It's Sarah."

"Sarah – Sarah, honey, where are you?!" The voice was frantic.

Sarah blinked. "Mom – I'm on the train –"

"I've been trying and trying to call you – Sarah honey, your grandmother –"

The line went out, with a crackle and hiss of static.

Sarah jerked her ear away from the phone, cursing, and glanced out the window. Blackness, with the occasional orange light flying by –

"Damn it, the mountain tunnel … and that's it for three minutes!" She slapped the phone shut. "Shit, mom – 'your grandmother' what? What?"

An unpleasant mix of fear – what is it – guilt – I should have called earlier – and anger – that tunnelmade her slam one fist against the window.

The neon lights inside the train flickered. Sarah inhaled, and looked back into the car.

The towheaded girl had glanced up from her book, and the old woman had put her knitting in her lap. The girl was asking a question, her voice high-pitched – "What is it, grandma?" – and it skirled upward into a squeak as the lights flickered again, and again – and went out.

The old woman quavered, "I'm sure it will be fine, pumpkin."

A voice came on the intercom, as the train ground to a halt. "Ladies and gentlemen, you've noticed the lights – well, we've got a problem with the main fuse box, so just sit tight and enjoy back-up power while we fix it. No trouble at all, and we'll get back on our way within minutes. Thank you."

Emergency lights powered up with a snap and hiss, outlining the aisles and exits, and nothing more, in red.

"There, you see?" The older voice sounded relieved. "Just sit tight."

"Right –" the girl giggled.

"I know I don't feel like laughing," Sarah grumped, turning back to the window. Then she gave herself a rueful smile. "Or maybe I do." She opened her phone again. "From absolute victory to this – our heroine, reduced to a Rail Sale fare, and stuck on a train with a wonky lighting system, still looks good –" she struck a pose, then soldiered on – "still looks damn good, even in the grim artificial light of a cellular phone …"

She held the phone up, with a flourish, and let the dim blue screen light play over her features.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I'm ready for my close-up …" Sarah laughed, half-heartedly, but then stopped.

The back of her neck prickled, as she realized that she could not see her own eyes.

Their sockets were pools of shadow, and her skin had an unearthly blue tinge.

"Or not." She looked away from her window as she shut the phone and put it deep in her pocket. Ready to snatch, as soon as they got out of the tunnel –

"C'mon, hurry up already …"

Sarah hunched her shoulders in her coat, against the chill, stared up at the ceiling – can't see it, the lights are out, earth to Sarah – then glanced back at the window with a smile, a smile that froze as –

Jareth smiled back.


"No!"

Her own shriek echoed in her ears, as she landed painfully in the aisle after shoving herself away from the window. She fought for breath, gasping, half-crying – "No, it can't be – it can't be because I won – I won, damn him!"

Sarah scrabbled backwards, clambered onto the bench across the aisle from her seat. The window was now blank and dark. Her own face was still visible – a white disk, smaller, since she was further away.

She gulped in air. He had been behind her shoulder, so then, she should have bumped into him when she had jerked backwards.

"But I didn't …" Shakily, she sat up. "I didn't feel him. I didn't touch him. He wasn't there."

Her voice sounded feeble, to her own ears.

Sarah glared at her distant reflection and spoke louder. "He wasn't there – he isn't here – because I won!"

The last word was a shout.

Self-conscious, Sarah looked over her shoulder to the two passengers near the front of the train car. Even in the gloom, she could see them lying half-slumped in their seats. The old woman had dropped her knitting; the girl's head drooped forward, like a dandelion flower too heavy for its stem.

"Oh, god, no," Sarah breathed. "No …"

Before she could think twice, she heaved herself up from the bench with both arms, took one long step and gripped the cold metal struts of her original bench. There was her own face again, dreadfully white, and – I can't see my eyes –

"No," she spat. "I'm not afraid." She clenched her cold hands into fists.

And she gritted her teeth to keep them from chattering as the Goblin King's face shimmered into being behind her, over her shoulder – and not just his face, but his entire body. She saw the decaying armor that she remembered, the high-collared cloak, ghostly and insubstantial in the window, marred by streaks of mud on the glass.

"I'm not afraid of you, you bastard," Sarah hissed.

Jareth's reflection smiled.

You should be.

Sarah gasped, both at the sensation of his words in her mind – god, it's cold, or hot, what is it – and at their reflection. For the image of the Goblin King had been at her shoulder, his head tilted slightly, but then she blinked and he was flush against her back, his hands on her upper arms and his mouth at her ear – surely, surely that was the only reason his whisper had crawled into her mind from so goddamned close

She turned her head carefully to the left. He should be there – right here – but she saw nothing except darkness.

Instinct made her glance out of the corner of her eye, back at her reflection, and she froze as she saw Jareth tracing her jaw with one thumb, his left arm crooked around her own, and the silvery cloak fluttering around her as he angled his head to meet her lips in a kiss.

Sarah yelped, and twisted away. Then she stared at the window, aghast, as the Goblin King grinned and rested his forehead against her hair.

She found her voice, and whispered, "Stop."

Jareth slanted his eyes to hers, and bared his teeth.

Make me.

"You have no power over me, you rat bastard, so leave!"

The Goblin King's grin made her skin crawl.

I have a much better idea, precious thing …

His sibilant voice should have been tangible, but she felt nothing on her skin – felt nothing but a white-hot ice-cold needle slicing through her thoughts.

Sarah … my sweet Sarah … I shall do as you wish.

She saw his reflection trace one hand along her hair, and then the Goblin King kissed her temple and her stomach lurched.

I shall leave you. But then

He quirked one eyebrow and grinned at her again

Then you had better come find me and find me quickly. After all, my dear, I wish to discuss … terms.

Sarah licked her lips. "Terms?"

Yes

One gauntlet rested on her hair, and the other spread wide at the base of her throat, stark black on white.

I wish to discuss the terms of your surrender.

For a long moment, she hardly breathed. Then she violently threw off his hands – nothing there, nothing there –

"Bullshit! I won, Goblin King, and you had to leave –

your city, yes. I did, precious. But I also took the liberty of joining you on this train at the next borough.

She felt her jaw drop. "You – you cheat!"

Jareth shook his head; the ghostly mane of hair fluttered. His smile was cold.

I do not cheat, Sarah. I merely take advantage of foolishness. And now, my pretty fool, come find me. Use my gift to you – the one you were so obliging as to accept from me …

"Liar – I never –" Sarah choked, remembering – thanks – think nothing of it – and bent, scrabbled for the umbrella, grabbed it in a panicked flurry and stood back up. She stared at the flimsy metal and plastic – still wet – and then at the Goblin King and herself in the window – her image in the window, with a blood-red crystal ball clutched in her hands.

She could not speak. She only saw her reflection, shaking her head back and forth.

Jareth smiled.

I'm afraid so.

Sarah felt the sting of tears in her eyes. "You bastard," she ground out. "You cheat. Fuck you!"

The Goblin King stopped smiling.

Slowly, his wavering, ghostly image reached forward with one hand, and still more slowly, he extended his gloved fingers and touched the crystal.

It flared to life – the red was burned away by the glow of magic. The orb shone with a pure light into the gloom, turning her reflection in the window as silver as Jareth's own.

He slowly leaned his head against hers, and Sarah gasped as she felt his whisper, hot and intimate, at her ear.

"You'll need to find me first."

The brush and drag of his cloak against her back as he turned, the slide of his left hand away from the crystal and up her arm – she felt both as she would needles or knives in her skin – and he began to walk away.

Sarah whipped around and stared down the aisle. Nothing. Nothing, except a clot of darkness expanding, growing ever larger – spreading like an inkblot on grey paper.

She looked at the windows on the side of the car, and felt her stomach jolt as she saw Jareth gliding down the aisle, his arms outstretched and his cloak brushing over the girl's curly hair, the grandmother's face –

Sarah raised the crystal high – and its silver light showed the old woman and her granddaughter gone, the chairs vanished, the sides of the train car turned to solid rock, and the Goblin King gazing back at her, expressionless, as he walked straight through the wall where the door had been.


She stared ahead, into the darkness, silently, and focused on her breathing. In and out. In and out.

Raising the crystal, Sarah felt her heart sink when she recognized those rough-hewn walls – the walls of an oubliette.

"And not just any oubliette," she muttered. "The oubliette. The one I fell into before …"

She lifted her chin in defiance. "And I got out of that oubliette before. It doesn't scare me. I've defeated him before – he doesn't scare me. So watch out, Goblin King." Sarah held the crystal high. "Ready or not, here I come."

She walked forward, through what had been the train car, ducking her head to avoid stalactites. She reached the far wall. Piece of cake.

"OK. All right." Feeling for the hidden catch, she concentrated. "What did Hoggle do? …"

Whatever he had done, Sarah reflected after minutes had passed, it was damned hard to duplicate. She fumbled at the wall, dropped the crystal, and cursed as it rolled into a corner with a strange, clanking sound.

didn't the other crystal ring?

Then she stopped, and stared.

Where the silvery light crept across the floor, she saw the dust and stone of the oubliette. But in front of her – she squinted – she could just barely see the ordinary metal and glass of the train door.

"Oh." Sarah blinked, and then shrugged. "Pretty lame, Jareth." She grabbed the crystal, held it behind her back, and opened the door.

"Well …" She kept her voice matter-of-fact. "I suppose this reveals your magic, Goblin King – and shows me what you want me to see? Let's take a look."

She held up the orb, and saw a glass wall, two glass doors – and past them, a familiar sight ... Sarah eased into the lobby – the lobby? – and laughed. "Ooh –" she cried. "I'm quaking in my boots – it's the bank where I took my allowance, growing up, oh, the bank! The horror! The horror!" Miming a fainting fit, she tottered to the next door, and tugged on the handle.

It opened onto a metal hall that swung on a pivot, connecting the cars. Sarah looked left and right. Down those stairs … She bit her lip. Down those stairs on either side was an exit, and she could just throw open the door, and chuck the crystal into the mountain tunnel.

"For the rats," Sarah hissed. "The lying, cheating rats –"

Cheating …

Sarah felt the crystal behind her back, thinking hard.

Come and find me, he had said.

Use my gift to you …

She brought the orb in front of her, before her eyes, and stared into it. "Without this … without this, I'll just see the train – and I'll be a sitting duck. I won't be able to see him except in a window - right." Sarah clenched her jaw, and shoved the crystal behind her back again. "Nice try, Goblin King."

She opened the next door with a jerk, and stepped through into the train car, brandishing the crystal without hesitation –

– and saw, with an unpleasant twist of her stomach, a chamber with a high ceiling lost in the gloom, lit by flickering candles – and dominated by an immense bed in the middle.

"And not just an ordinary bed, oh no," she murmured, walking up to it. "No, you have to pick a reject from a brothel, don't you?" Sarah curled her lip at the purple velvet and contrasting red silk, and flicked a contemptuous hand through the tassels hanging from the posts. "King size … compensation much?"

She lowered the crystal, put it behind her back, and walked to the metal door that appeared amidst stone and tapestries. Opened it, and closed it without looking back, focusing on holding the crystal with clammy fingers.

Then she stopped.

The silvery light glinted off racks of sharp surgical instruments, off the gleaming outlines of a metal faucet and sink, off a large, padded chair in the middle of the room …

"Brrr." Sarah only half-faked her shiver. "Well, that's a bit freakier. The dentist. You've got me – I'm far, far too afraid to continue."

She marched on, but her hand did shake slightly, on the door handle, and she had to try twice to open it, cursing – only to see another pivot hallway.

"Every two cars, I guess …"

Then she thought of something, and raised the crystal to see what he had put over the exits –

She almost screamed.

The massive, twisted face of a False Alarm stared at her.

Beware

She wheeled and turned to the other – it had equally distorted features, twisted in fear, with bulging eyes.

For the path you take

"'Will lead to certain destruction,' yeah, congratulations." Sarah mocked, keeping the quaver out of her voice with an effort. "You finally got to say your line."

Gripping the crystal tightly behind her back, she yanked the next door open, and cast the silvery light over the room.

She paused.

"What …"

The strange light showed her the kitchen of her apartment.

The kitchen, and the hall … Sarah walked over linoleum, and then over wood, feeling her skin prickle. She fought off the shivers. Why should this one be as creepy as the dentist's office?

Perhaps it was because it was so familiar, but so unreal, etched in silver. Perhaps because it was dank, and enclosed – as it had been the day she had moved in … dark and dirty …

Sarah stopped at the next door.

Perhaps …

Perhaps because her instincts told her that this next door was the last. That there would be no more illusions...

That he was on the other side.

Swallowing hard, she closed her eyes. I've defeated him twice now … I've done it before, and I can do it again. "No power over me," she murmured, resting her brow against the cool metal of the door. "None."

Opening her eyes, she gripped the door handle, held up the orb, and pulled forward all at the same time.

Sarah let the door swing shut behind her –

And then she gasped, and blinked hard, as the lights blazed back to full brightness. The train lurched forward, Sarah stumbled and dropped the crystal, and it rolled down the aisle, its own light only a glimmer.

It had almost reached the opposite door when someone stretched out one foot, and stopped it.


"Ah, Sarah … How pleasant to see you – in the flesh." That familiar voice drawled out from near the front of the car. "And in quite good time as well."

There. The Goblin King was folding a newspaper in half, casual in the same suit coat and jeans that she remembered from the park, and smiling –

Sarah half-walked, half ran down the aisle, taking in the still-slumped passengers only in passing, until she reached his seat. She glared down; he peeked up at her through a fall of golden hair, and his smile widened.

"How have you enjoyed the sights, my dear?"

"The what?" she sputtered – "Jareth, you can't send hallucinations at me because you have no power over me, you cheat, and –"

"I am not a cheat," he said softly, his grin vanishing.

"Do I need to spell it out? No power over me –" she held back from jabbing a finger into his chest. "That extends to modes of transportation, the weather, electricity, for god's sake, and whatever twisted shit you have in your head!" Sarah halted, breathing hard.

Jareth shook his hair out of his eyes and gave her a long look. "Temper, temper, Sarah. You give me far too much credit. I have no power over you … but I have the ordinary power to buy a train ticket. I have the mortal wherewithal to sabotage a fuse or two and really …" He stretched and yawned, like a cat. "As to the elements, perhaps I begged a favor of the North Wind and the East, of the lightning and the rain …"

Then he held up the newspaper. "Or, since those are tempestuous demigods, perhaps I read the weather forecasts like an ordinary person." His eyes glinted. "Hmm?"

Sarah narrowed her eyes. "And all the stuff I just saw?"

"Ah." Jareth uncoiled from his seat and stood; Sarah instinctively stepped back. He looked down at the crystal beneath one scuffed shoe, tapped it, and rolled it to the other.

"This, my dear, is my gift to you. It's a crystal, nothing more – but if you hold it aloft, and set it alight …"

"It will show me my dreams?"

The Goblin King's lips twisted into a cold smile. "Rather the opposite."

Sarah's throat was suddenly dry. "Not my dreams … My nightmares."

Jareth inclined his head. "In my long existence, I have observed that this is a gift guaranteed to build character – and I thought you could benefit by it."

"And you think I'll come running to you like some goddamn chicken or a two-year-old – fuck you, you arrogant –"

"Speaking of which, we have a far more interesting topic to discuss, Sarah mine." The smile now had teeth. "And that is – your surrender." Sarah stared at him, horrified, as he continued, "There's no shame in it, precious, and it is most certainly inevitable, so you could save yourself a good deal of unpleasantness by kissing me." He gestured around them – "Here" – and brought one finger to his mouth – "and here."

Sarah bared her own teeth. "Not on your life."

"Why, no, not on mine, but rather –"

Her cell phone rang shrilly, cutting him off.

The Goblin King tapped his lower lip. "I'm not expecting any calls, sweet."

He watched as Sarah unfolded the phone with hands that shook. She saw him watching, and turned away.

"Hello –" She cleared her throat. "Hello?"

"Sarah – what happened? Where are you? Your phone cut out, and I couldn't get you back –"

"Mom," she breathed. "I'm sorry, Mom – the train went through a tunnel but we're out now." She glanced outside. Darkness still obscured all the trees, save those made golden in the light of lamps flashing by. "I think we're getting closer to civilization, and we're out of the tunnel, but Mom – what's going on? What's wrong?" Her memory whispered – Sarah honey it's your grandmother – "It's Gran, isn't it?" Her throat closed up. "What's wrong with Gran?"

"She's in the hospital. I'm here with her, but honey – she's had a heart attack."

Sarah heard a high-pitched buzzing in her ears. The train car swayed; she put out a hand to steady herself – her fingers closed on air and she lost her footing.

Then Jareth caught her elbow, and braced her with his other hand at the small of her back. For a long moment, Sarah could hear nothing –

"– and the resident cardiologist will be here in an hour, because the doctor on call hardly knows what to make of it – Sarah? Sarah, are you there?"

Her other ear was close enough to Jareth to hear him swallow as she turned her head away, brushing his throat with her hair.

"Yes," she said faintly. "I'm here."

"Honey, I need you to stay at Gran's house and to take any calls from your aunts and uncles. They don't have my cell, and –" her mother's voice caught – "they're not in my contacts list, so be sure to tell them exactly what happened. Write down these numbers –"

"Just a second." Sarah reached for her pocket, wresting her arm from the Goblin King's hand. She pulled a pen from her coat, and searched for a scrap of paper.

Jareth gestured, took a piece of parchment from out of thin air, and extended it to her. She gave him a cold look, and scratched the pen across her wrist to get the ink flowing.

"OK, go ahead."

Carefully, she wrote down the telephone numbers her mother gave her, tracing them over the back of her hand – first hurriedly, to keep up with Linda's voice, then again to make them darker, then again because she could, because it kept her from bursting into tears –

"Be brave, honey – Sarah …" Her mother's voice caught. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"OK." Sarah heard her own voice, small. "I love you."

"I love you, too." Her mother hung up.

Sarah tried to fold the phone shut. She fumbled it, and fumbled for it, as it slipped from her hands –

Jareth caught it easily, and held it out to her.

With a feeling of deep unreality, Sarah took the phone back. Her fingers brushed his – he's not wearing gloves – and then she felt aware, aware with every nerve, of the way he had crowded close to her – too close – of the hand still resting at the small of her back, and of his breath warm on her hair –

She elbowed him away, and turned her back on him.

"Sarah –" Jareth began.

"Are you happy?" she gulped. "Two truths and a lie – you, you knew, Jareth, and you let me sit there chattering like an idiot –" Her voice broke. "You knew, didn't you?"

A pause. Then: "Yes."

"God!" She felt the tears begin to fall. "Why didn't you tell me?! Why didn't you tell me? – unless –" she gasped – "unless you did this. You did this!"

"Slander, Sarah …" the Goblin King hissed. "I have no power over you – that extends to relatives. Do try and maintain some semblance of reality –"

"Reality?! I'm talking to a fairy tale, and my grandmother's dying, and you're talking to me about reality?!"

She whirled back to face him, and felt a chill from the expression on his face.

"Such insolence exceeds my patience, even with you."

"It's not about you, Jareth, it's my Gran –"

"Your grandmother?" Jareth tilted his head haughtily. "I will save your grandmother, Sarah. I will restore her to the bloom of eighty-year-old health …"

"Wh- what? … You will?"

His eyes were hooded. "If."

Sarah felt cold. "If – what?"

"Our third contest, Sarah …" The Goblin King's eyes gleamed. "Engage with me in our final conflict, at the stroke of thirteen, and if you prove victorious, I will save your grandmother."

Silence fell.

Sarah only heard the rumble and clack of the train as it sped along – as she thought, desperately. She darted a glance up at him. His arms were crossed over his chest. His stare was diamond-bright – diamond-hard.

Sarah closed her eyes. "What's the catch?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"You heard me, Goblin King. What's the catch?"

His voice was sleek. "Actually, precious thing, there are three."

"Three. Great." She held her coat tightly to herself; the train car was cold. "And they are?"

"First, that you must prove yourself worthy of this contest –"

Sarah snorted; he paused, and spoke on. "The second is that you must dine with me. And the third …"

She heard the quiet tap of his shoes as he stepped closer. Too close. She felt his breath on her hair.

"The third catch, Sarah, is that you will lose. For, all I need to triumph is that you kiss me. And you will …"

Then Sarah felt his breath against her mouth; she jerked back and her eyes flew open. His own were a few inches away and cold. Cruel.

"How do you know that?" she whispered.

"I know," he whispered back, "because I have foreseen it. I have flown through the Gate of Horn, and flown through your dreams, and I have seen you kissing me with all of your heart … The Labyrinth has shown me this." His eyes glittered. "Labyrinth has always intended you for me – and I love you, Sarah. My Sarah …"

Jareth's gaze flicked down to her mouth, then back up. "My Sarah … Kiss me."

He touched her jaw with the fingertips of one hand; she felt the brush of skin on skin all the way down to her feet.

"Kiss me here, and you need not prove yourself. Kiss me now, and I will fly to bring your grandmother back from death's door. Kiss me –" his breath was hot – "kiss me, precious thing, and you will be mine forever …"

It was the hardest thing she had ever done – to take a step back, and another – to break free from his eyes. But Sarah did so.

"Prove myself? Why?" She kept her voice calm, though her heart hammered. "Why do I need to prove myself? And how would I do so, great and mighty King?"

She allowed a sneer into her final words, and knew it had been the wrong thing to do even before she saw Jareth's gaze turn to ice.

"You little fool. I offered myself to you on bended knee, at our first contest's end. I offered my powers to you. I offered my heart to you. I offered to be your slave … and you refused me. You passed through dangers untold," his voice mocked her, "and hardships unnumbered – you declared your power equal to mine at the great old age of fourteen – you fool! Yet I met your spirit with mine – I answered your call and did everything you demanded of me and more – and you refused me!"

"Defeated you," Sarah corrected, calmly.

She felt removed from the scene – Gran is dying – curiously outside of time, or she would not have dared say it. As it was, she felt nothing as saw his face twist.

"And for our second contest, Sarah, it was I who played the malleable fool. I set no task of immortal import, I put no trials to you – instead I lowered myself to your pathetic mortal plane and did nothing more than offer you gifts and ask you to dinner – no more than any pathetic human boy would do – and you refused me."

"Defeated you."

The Goblin King paused. "So it would seem."

Silence.

Sarah took a deep breath. "So, what now?"

"What now …" Jareth spoke softly. "'What now?' she asks. 'What now' is that you prove yourself worthy of a third challenge. I am the King of Dreams, Sarah Williams. I am Lord of the Labyrinth. And I say to you that you find your way out again – retrace your steps – go and fetch your belongings, with this to guide you."

He flipped the crystal orb to his hand with one smooth roll of his foot, and held it out to her.

"Do you see this, Sarah? It's a crystal, nothing more. But if you turn it this way, and look into it, it will show you your dreams. And …"

Jareth raised the crystal up on high. His teeth were bared.

"If you hold it aloft, and set it alight–" he struck the orb with his other hand, and Sarah cried out, shielding her eyes against its blinding glare – burning silver-white and far, far brighter than before.

"– it will show you your nightmares, Sarah mine. So …"

Sarah heard a clanging noise, and whirled to see the crystal hit one bench and ricochet through the metal door.

The horrible clanging continued for a long time. And then it stopped.

Fear reached up and choked her, as she saw how the entire car had turned silvery, insubstantial, in the magical light – how the passengers had vanished into thin air – how many cars away is it? – how far – oh, god …

She turned back, and bit back a cry at the Goblin King looking like a wraith, a ghost, in the light of nightmares. His ordinary clothes had changed into the decaying cloak and armor – his hair was a blazing crown, and he smiled at her with teeth sharp and glittering, merciless.

"So, precious thing –" and his whisper sliced through her ears – "Go and retrieve your belongings, and my lovely gift to you, and meet me at your grandmother's house before the stroke of thirteen. Prove yourself stronger than your nightmares, worthy of the King of Dreams. Or –"

"Or what?" Her voice shook.

"Or you could admit defeat and kiss me – now. Yield to me, and we will go to your grandmother together." A smile. "And to places as far beyond your dreams as your city is beyond a single stone."

He held out a gloved hand.

She lifted her chin. "So – just the suitcase and my purse?"

Jareth curled his hand into a fist, and brought it back to his side, slowly. "And that lovely crystal, precious thing …"

Sarah began to step away.

He half-closed his eyes, drew his cloak closer. "My only love ... What time is it?"

She fumbled for her cell phone, checked the digital display. "Seven-thirty."

"Half past seven, precious thing – only an hour, precious thing …" The Goblin King smiled at her, his cloak fluttering as he swayed. His eyes gleamed. "Sixty paltry minutes until your mortal track comes to its end, precious thing …"

His sing-song voice dropped to a grating whisper. "Fetch me that crystal, precious thing."

Sarah felt for the door handle behind her, her fingers numb.

"Fetch it for me, precious thing …"

She felt the door open.

"Fetch – fetch –"

The Goblin King spat his last word at her.

"Fetch."

Sarah turned and ran, and heard the door slam behind her.


TBC ... Read and review!

And a PSA: chapter 3 will be rated, most emphatically, M; & thus won't pop up in the automatic K - T screen, etc. etc.