Recap: Sarah is twenty-one years old, spending a quiet night at home alone on the anniversary of the night she made that fateful wish...


Sarah felt strongly that there were few problems that Szechaun pork and fried rice could not solve. But as she scraped the congealing sauce from her plate back into the take-out box, she admitted there was a first time for everything-- including the failure of Chinese food to cure all one's ills. Merlin did not agree, and begged shamelessly for a fried won ton.

"You've had three," lectured Sarah, "And my egg roll, too. You know what happened last time, Merlin. Do you want to be banished to the garage for a week when Karen finds out?"

Tongue hanging out as he lolled upon on the floor, Merlin was unrepentant. His weakness for fried food was well known, but unlike his owners, he was not a dog to be troubled by trivial issues like a delicate gastro-intestinal system.

Sarah sighed and stabbed the last won ton with her chopsticks. "Half. And then that's it. Plus you're sleeping in the laundry room tonight just in case."

Sniffing eagerly, the sheepdog drooled on her hand to show his agreement to the terms. The tidbit disappeared in a flurry of chewing.

Sarah scratched him behind the ears. "If you get fat, you'll have no one to blame but yourself, greedy thing."

Merlin's enthusiastic enjoyment suggested that the loss of a svelte figure was a small price to pay. When the food was gone, he looked mournfully up at his owner, but Sarah was already in the kitchen, putting the leftovers into the fridge.

"Almost midnight, Merlin."

The dog whined in protest.

"Come on, now. One more drink of water and it's off to the laundry room for you."

Setting down Merlin's water bowl on the floor beside the washing machine, Sarah nudged the dog into the room and closed the door behind him. His claws scrabbled on the wood and she could see the black tip of his nose poking out from beneath the door.

"It's for your own good," she argued, "And remember, you agreed to this."

Merlin's nose retreated and she could hear him flop against the door with a soft thump.

"That's a good boy."

Stretching and yawning, Sarah went in search of her book, intending to snuggle down on the living room sofa and read until she fell asleep. She'd borrowed her brother's copy of Watership Down, and she was just past the part about the raid on Nuthanger farm. Reading about Hazel, Fiver, and all the other rabbits never failed to draw her into the story, as if she could see the meadows and bridle paths of the English countryside right in front of her. It was the perfect way to lose herself on a night like this.

Looking under couch cushions and beneath the coffee table, she frowned.

I could've sworn it was right here.

Had she left it up in her room? Sarah hesitated at the bottom of the stairs, hand on the railing. She was almost certain she'd left the light on in her bedroom, but the upstairs hallway was dark. A piece of paper lay on the seventh step as if it had been left for her to find.

Though her instincts warned her not to look, Sarah couldn't help herself. It was the page of a book.

Part One: The Journey

The primroses were over. Toward the edge of the wood, where the ground became open and sloped down to an old fence and a brambly ditch beyond, only a few fading patches of pale yellow still showed...

The paper fluttered from her hands. Toby's copy had been brand new and the page could not have loosened itself. She was sure it hadn't been lying on the stairs earlier. Sarah glanced at the upstairs hallway again, but there wasn't a single sound or movement.

I could end this now. I could go downstairs and lock myself in the study until morning.

But she did not. Instead, Sarah retrieved the slip of paper and mounted the stairs, skipping the fourth step that creaked under the slightest pressure. The door to her bedroom was slightly ajar and the first thing she saw was Watership Down lying on her desk. She picked it up and slipped the torn out page back inside. A quick glance around the room told her that things were not as she'd left them. Someone had tidied her papers and pencils, the stack of textbooks had all been straightened and the spines lined up precisely.

The curtains were all pulled to one side and moonlight streamed through the open window, laying down a white path across the bedroom floor. She walked over it, shivering as the cool air hit her skin. The storm had moved on, and now she could only see the flashes of heat lightning miles off as it lit up the clouds all gold and gray.

Sarah meant to close the window but she stood silently, book held tight against her chest as she looked at the clearing sky. It was a familiar sight to her. She'd stood there many a night, waiting to see if some dark shape would flit across the face of the moon.

It never had.

When she finally turned away, a pale outline caught her eye and Sarah gasped. It was only moonlight glancing off her dresser mirror.

"Stupid." Sarah whispered, "What did you expect?"

As she was about to retreat back to the safety of the living room, a lean figure separated from the shadows in the corner of her room. It was his eyes she saw first, wintery blue and gleaming like embers. He wore the dark as easily as if it were a mantle, but as he moved it unfurled like wings.

Sarah froze, book in hand.

"It would seem," said the Goblin King, "That we are destined to keep meeting like this."

Ignoring her alarmed expression, he crossed the room and seated himself at her desk as if he intended to stay.

He hasn't changed at all, thought Sarah.

Still the same graceful movements of his gloved hands, hair so fair the moonlight looked like common brass beside it. Still the same eyes. The last time she'd seen him, he'd been dressed all in white and grey, the palest of lavenders streaking his sleeves.

Now he wore a shade of blue so deep it was nearly black. Silver threads glinted from the folds of his cloak, and hanging from his neck was the heavy triangular pendant with its curving gold mark in the center.

Sarah realized she was gripping the book so hard it was dog-earing the corners, so she forced herself to put it down.

"Why are you here?"

Jareth shook his head reprovingly. "You know what night this is, Sarah."

She did, there was no use pretending. Sarah would never forget the day she'd returned from the Labyrinth, no matter how many years passed.

"That doesn't mean anything."

"On the contrary, it means everything-- and I have been a long time waiting." Jareth brushed an invisible speck of dust from his sleeve. "But I must confess, I rather expected you to come to me."

He's still arrogant as ever. But even so, Sarah was finding it difficult to breathe or look away.

She tried to match his nonchalant tone. "And why would I do that?"

"To claim what is yours, of course." The Goblin King paused, idly examining the contents of her desk drawer, "Your other two wishes."

He was teasing her, Sarah was sure of it. It was in the way he looked at her from the corner of his eye as he toyed with her favorite drawing pencil, spinning it between finger and thumb like a helicopter blade. But this time, she could refuse to play his game.

"I didn't realize I had any."

The Goblin King tsked reprovingly. "Don't you remember the stories, Sarah? Everyone knows that wishes come in threes. The first was wishing your brother away to my Labyrinth-- poorly spent, some might say. However, it is hardly my place to judge."

Sarah folded her arms across her chest. "I don't believe in fairy tales any more, Goblin King. I think you're making that up."

"I wouldn't dare. Rules are rules, after all... but even wishes will not keep forever. You did not come to claim them, so I have come to you."

"Wishes have an expiration date?" she asked incredulously.

Jareth shrugged amiably. "Just so."

"I could forfeit them."

"You could. But most people would never be able to live with themselves. They'd always wonder," he said, waving the pencil in the air in an exaggeratedly grand gesture, "What might have been."

Damn him, Sarah fumed. It was true. She would wonder. He seemed so confident, arm draped over the back of her chair with his boots propped up on the desk. Yet the soft drumming of his fingertips on top of her history text betrayed him. He was anxious, too.

"What could I wish for?"

Jareth looked back at her with half-lidded eyes, all his mirth and good humor suddenly vanished. His hands stilled briefly, then he reached out and plucked a crystal from the air. He held it for a moment, then sent it wafting to her with a practiced movement. His face was unreadable.

"Anything you desire."

The entire room hummed with electricity, but so quietly that Sarah could hear the drip of rain off the oak leaves outside her window. Downstairs, the hall clock chimed midnight and she held her breath, almost expecting a thirteenth tolling of the bell.

The crystal hovered in the air before her, clear as glass but its surface shimmering opalescent with every color of the rainbow. Sarah held out her hand and it drifted closer, but danced just out of reach.

Anything...

"Then I could go back. I could see the Labyrinth again."

Though the storm had passed, thunder rumbled from far in the distance. It rolled like a gentle wave over the town, falling away to a rushing murmur as if it, too, were waiting for something to happen.

Jareth leaned forward in the chair, all casual pretense gone. "Almost. Say the right words."

At the open window, the curtains fluttered and whipped in the wind. Heat lightning flashed across the night sky again, closer this time so that the whole room lit up a brilliant white for a few seconds, then left them in darkness once more.

Sarah took a deep breath. No turning back now. "I wish to see the Labyrinth again."

At her words, the crystal leapt to her hand eagerly as if it belonged. As soon as she touched it, her room disappeared, the walls collapsing like a house of cards. Sarah didn't even have time to scream before she was flung out into space, the stars blinding bright and the darkness between them infinite and eternal.

Her thoughts unraveled like thread, spinning away from her at the speed of light until nothing was left. Time lost all meaning. Sarah imagined herself trapped in that prism of space, floating far above the world where the earth was suspended like a blue-green pearl against the black.

She could not see him, but the Goblin King's hand closed firmly over her own, so hard that it hurt.

"Close your eyes, Sarah."

The discomfort brought her back. It was difficult, but the Goblin King would not be disobeyed. Sarah shut her eyes and remembered who she was.

He spoke low and reassuringly in her ear. "That's right. Do not look, not yet."

Jareth's hold upon her relaxed, and with some surprise she realized he was not wearing his gloves. His fingers were interlaced with her own, bare skin upon skin. It was the only sensation of body she had in this place; the rest of her felt weightless, completely buoyant. Sarah sighed. It would be so easy to let it go, let everything she was scatter like a fistful of sand in the wind.

Jareth wouldn't let her. His touch anchored her to the here and now.

"We must travel a very long way in a short amount of time, Sarah," said the Goblin King, "In a manner of speaking. It might prove to be... difficult. Do you trust me?"

"Do I have a choice?" To her own ears, her voice sounded thin, whipped away by the wind as quickly as they left her lips.

Sarah felt the laughter in his reply.

"There's always a choice. You could still say no and I would take you back to your bedroom, safe and sound."

Safe and sound. It was a tempting thought. This was more than Sarah had bargained for, after all. Merlin was home alone, and if anything should happen to her there'd be no one to look after him for days. But if she turned back now...

"No. I've chosen, and now you have to keep up your end of the bargain."

Jareth squeezed her hand a little tighter. "As you wish. Don't open your eyes for any reason, Sarah. I promise, you will be perfectly safe as long as you do not let go of my hand."

She nodded and braced herself. She wouldn't have let go of his hand anyway, but there was no need to tell him that.

"I'm ready."


Comments/reviews welcome.

Author's Note: Part two of four.