Chapter Two: All Things Must Pass

There were more people at the funeral than Sarah had expected. Most of the staff from her father's law firm and everyone from Karen's real estate offices had arrived. Karen's sister had flown in from Seattle. Sarah had forgotten how alike the two were and it had been a shock when, for a few seconds, she had thought that her stepmother was walking towards her. Some of her former school-friends had come - a touching gesture that Sarah appreciated but viewed with an odd detachment. A large condolence card had been signed by all of Toby's classmates. He had read it and placed it in his knapsack, along with the few other items he wanted take back to the Underground.

And then there was Sarah's mother.

Her ostentatious performance of grief had been bad enough at the graveside - at the gathering at the house afterwards it was even worse. Linda Williams never failed to make certain that she was the centre of attention, and today was no exception. Sarah watched her across the room, noting the theatricality in every gesture, every word. She wove through the groups until she reached Linda's side.

'Mom.'

Linda turned, placing a heavily ringed hand on her daughter's arm. 'Sarah, there you are. I was just saying to Teddy here...' Teddy, one of her father's colleagues, was on the receiving end of her mother's bewitching smile and had the slightly dazed expression of someone who can't believe his luck, '...how my heart simply breaks for poor little Tony.'

'Toby,' Sarah said patiently.

Linda's smile didn't falter. 'Of course. Such a charming, old-fashioned name, isn't it? I've always preferred those to these modern, made-up sounding-'

'Excuse us, Uncle Teddy. Mom.' Sarah took hold of her elbow and steered her toward a quiet corner. 'Mom, today is not about you.'

'Sarah!'

'I don't want to fight about it,' she continued levelly. 'That's all I want to say. Just try to remember that, please?'

'Sarah,' Linda pressed her hands against her heart, 'I cared for your father deeply-'

'I'm not saying you didn't, Mom. But Toby has lost both his parents - he's the one we should all be thinking about right now.'

Linda's dark eyes wandered over the gathering, alighting on Toby's small blonde form. 'I suppose Karen's sister will look after him now,' she commented.

'No. Toby will be coming back with me.'

Linda gazed at her daughter, speechless for a moment. 'Sarah, sweetie, you're still really young. You don't want to-'

'Saddle myself with a child like you did?'

Linda caught her breath, her face hardening.

'Don't worry, Mom. Toby and I will be just fine.'

Sarah walked away, responding mechanically to the greetings and words of sympathy that drifted toward her. It had been a cruel thing to say, perhaps, but neither Sarah nor Linda could deny the truth of those words. Or the fact that for years they had pretended to have a relationship that no longer existed. The atmosphere in the house was stifling and Sarah stepped out into the garden; the sky was overcast and the air felt damp and cool. The only decent black dress she owned was too warm for this weather; she could feel the lining sticking to her clammy skin. She made banal small talk with some of her parents' friends and wished that she had accepted Jareth's offer for him and Delaine to accompany her. The thought made her smile. Delaine could have pulled it off - just. But there was nothing that Jareth could do to himself that would make him blend into the crowd; she imagined the expression on everyone's faces with those two exotic creatures in their midst. She felt a small hand creep into hers and smiled down at Toby. He had clung to her at the burial, keeping tight hold of her hand and standing very straight. Sarah gently squeezed the small fingers curled in her own.

Toby was feeling extremely bored and extremely frustrated. If just one more person looked at him tearfully and patted him on the head, he was quite sure that he would bite their hands off. If he had Jareth's power he could turn them all into Goblins; that idea kept him amused for a few minutes until he started to have the feeling that someone was staring at him. Toby looked over his shoulder and then tugged at Sarah's hand.

'What?' she asked softly.

'There.'

Sarah looked behind them.

No-one else had noticed the fact that a large white owl was perched on one of the low branches, watching the proceedings intently. Sarah looked down at Toby; he grinned back up at her.

When flecks of rain began spattering the garden and the guests, they went inside - all but Sarah and Toby. Together, they walked across to the tree; the owl kept its gold-ringed eyes focused on them. As they drew near it tilted its head to look at them, twisting it until it was almost upside down. Toby giggled and it immediately righted itself, ruffling its feathers and clicking its beak.

'You just couldn't stay away, could you?' Sarah said conversationally. The reply was a flurry of white wings; Sarah instinctively - and hurriedly - held out her arm. He landed lightly but she could feel the faint prickle of talons through the sleeve of her dress; he placed his feet delicately, evidently taking care not to hurt her. Toby scratched him at the back of the neck, his fingers burrowing through the thick, creamy feathers.

'Oh, he's so cute! I think I'll call him Jareth. Hey, Sarah, can we keep him?'

The owl looked at him sourly.

'Don't push it, Tobes, he can take it out on you in other ways.'

'I'm just joking,' Toby replied, now gently stroking the snowy breast, 'he knows that.' As if in agreement, Jareth-the-Owl gave Toby's fingers a quick affectionate nibble.

Her arm was starting to sag under the weight of his body; he hopped nimbly up to her shoulder. Sarah turned her face toward him, feeling the soft warmth of feathers brushing against her cheek. 'We'll be home soon,' she whispered. 'Soon. I promise.'

ooOoo

The hotel receptionist did not seem to notice anything strange about their arrival. One moment the foyer had been empty and the next he had been looking at a young woman and a small child.

Delaine had booked them into one of the more exclusive hotels and, they were assured, any friends of the famous Miss King were guaranteed to have an extremely pleasant stay. Sarah only half-listened to the obsequious greetings, accepted them graciously and then followed the porter up to their room.

Their suite, rather. Delaine did not do things by halves.

The porter launched into an explanation of the workings of the air-conditioning, the TV system and assorted other trappings. As he spoke his eyes were drawn irresistibly to the ring on her left hand. At home, in the Underground, it looked very beautiful but perfectly normal. Aboveground, however, it glowed with its own inner light. Elven silver inlaid with a single hair from a unicorn's tail surrounded a luminescent pearl that had been harvested by the Chief Merman himself. The wearing of a ring as a sign of betrothal was not traditional in the Underground, but Jareth - out of respect for Sarah's mortal heritage, as he had put it - had had the ring made especially and had presented it to her with great ceremony. Sarah wore it with pride, but under the porter's somewhat dazed scrutiny, she put her hand in her pocket. He shook himself, as though coming out of a dream.

'Uh, if you need anything, just dial 0.'

'Thanks.' Sarah handed over the obligatory tip and sighed with relief when they were finally on their own. The lighting veered erratically from blinding to gloomy and every gradation in between; Toby had discovered the dimmer switch and lowered his hand guiltily when Sarah turned long-suffering eyes on him.

Their rooms were fairly large and stylishly furnished - the sort of place that looks good in glossy photo-shoots and the sort of place that Sarah had once aspired to be able to afford to stay in. It paled in comparison to the lavish elegance of Jareth's castle. Toby was amusing himself by opening and investigating every drawer and cupboard. Sarah picked up the newspaper from the sideboard and cast an idle eye over the front page. Something sunk into her brain and she reread the title line more closely then stood staring stupidly at the black print.

'It can't be ten years,' she murmured aloud, 'it just can't be.'

'What's ten years?' Toby demanded. Receiving no reply, he stood on tiptoe and peered over Sarah's arm until he could read the cover of the newspaper. His eyes landed on the date. 'No way! It's two-thousand-and-six? That means I should be twenty. And you'd be...' He looked up at her. 'Whoa, you'd be really old...'

Sarah rolled her eyes. 'Yes, thank you, Toby.' Delaine had made all the arrangements for them, she must have known... Sarah made a mental note to have a word with her soon-to-be sister-in-law. And a word with her soon-to-be husband, for that matter. For people who had the power to control time, they didn't seem to have quite got to grips with judging how much of it had actually passed. She folded up the newspaper and, gathering her jacket, her bag and her brother, headed for the door.

ooOoo

Unlike the Underground, it was the middle of summer in this particular corner of America. As they walked along city streets the temperature climbed in proportion to the noise level of the traffic. Despite the sticky heat and the dirt, there was a certain buzz from being in the crowds and negotiating the busy sidewalks - Sarah experienced a brief pang of guilt; it seemed almost like a betrayal of Jareth and the Underground that she should enjoy it so much.

But this had been a part of her life for a long time, she rationalised; and it was only natural that she would slip back into her old way of living. And there were parts of life Aboveground that she would miss...

Toby's determined pulling on her arm and his whine that he was hungry brought her back to reality. He had already found the place where he wanted his lunch; Sarah looked up at the familiar golden M emblazoned on red and grimaced.

On the other hand, there were lots of things she didn't miss about life Aboveground...

Once lunch was over - and she had managed to prise an oversized coke from Toby's hands - the pair continued their investigation of the city. Sarah was reminded of the old saying: everything changes, everything stays the same. There were more mobile phones and even more cars - if that were possible. Variations from the fashions she remembered and a great many people walking along, trying to pretend that they were not in the middle of a crowd of other people who were all trying to ignore each other. Jareth, no doubt, would have some pithy comment about this.

As an experiment, Sarah decided that she would see how long she could go without thinking about him.

They turned into a bookshop, both of them enjoying the air-conditioning and the tranquil surroundings. Sarah eyed the shelves greedily: the castle's library was extensive, but it lacked both modern literature and what she euphemistically termed light reading. Browsing the shelves had always been one of her favourite pastimes, and she was more than happy to idle away a few hours looking up old favourites and discovering new ones. As she perused the European literature section, Sarah became aware that she was being shadowed by someone - he had the assumed intensity of the grad student, complete with nonchalantly draped scarf, goatee and black-rimmed glasses. Sarah smiled to herself. He was either studying English lit., philosophy or - worst of all - taking a writing course. She had dated enough of the species in her time to know how any conversation with him would proceed; she made a bet with herself over what his opening line would be.

Her would be suitor was intercepted by her brother who brandished a book under her nose.

'Look! Read that!'

'What, all of it?'

He huffed at her. 'Don't be stupid; just read the back.'

The book had a simple black cover, with only the title and the author's name embossed in silver. Delaine King. Sarah shook her head slightly but dutifully turned the book over and started to read the back cover.

'An ancient enemy stalks the land...

A war looms that could destroy centuries of peace...

The only hope for the Goblin kingdom lies in an alliance between the King and the mortal girl he loves. The girl who sees him as her sworn adversary...'

Sarah stared at the words for a while. It was a small consolation that Delaine hadn't opted for the lurid, Technicolor illustrations that usually adorned the covers of fantasy novels. She hated to think what an artist's interpretation of herself and Jareth would be...

'Cool, huh?' Toby said, grinning. 'Can I get it, Sarah? Please?'

His face was turned eagerly up to hers; she breathed heavily. 'Fine. Whatever.'

The list of things to talk to Delaine about when they returned was growing longer by the second.

ooOoo

By the time Sarah crawled gratefully into bed that night, she felt exhausted. There were twinges of stiffness from walking the pavements all day; it had taken a prolonged immersion in the bath before she had been able to remove all traces of city grime from her skin. Despite the initial shock after their arrival, Sarah had found herself enjoying being back Aboveground far more than she had expected. Yet despite the familiarity, she felt almost like a tourist. She was visiting a place that she knew and loved but she was just that - a visitor. The Underground was her home now and the confirmation of this knowledge was oddly comforting.

She wrestled her pillow into submission and stared upwards at the darkened ceiling.

They had had an enjoyable if uneventful day. The only painful moment had been when they had gone to the cemetery... The graves were well tended and she and Toby had laid fresh flowers on each. A large bouquet of yellow roses, Karen's favourite. Their scent was fresh and sweet in the humid air.

'If you want to talk to them for a while, that's okay.'

Toby dragged his eyes from the inscribed headstones. 'They're just bits of rock, Sarah. Can't really talk to rocks. Unless you're Ludo.'

'I guess not. Maybe we shouldn't have come.'

'No, I'm glad we did.' He turned his eyes to hers. 'Can we go now?'

Before they left she briefly laid her hand on top of her father's headstone; the marble was surprisingly warm.

After that the most notable occurrence came as Toby was flicking through TV stations and suddenly exclaimed, 'Hey, isn't that your mom?'

Sarah, in the middle of towel-drying her hair, crossed the room and then sat next to him on her bed. The programme looked like a soap opera - and the woman in question was indeed her mother. She had evidently had something done to her face - it was strangely immobile and she wore a permanent expression of faint surprise. Linda Williams had always referred to soap stars in the most scathing terms; according to her - a serious, theatrical performer - they were not proper actors. The passage of a decade must have necessitated a change of opinion.

Sarah turned up the volume and watched a few moments of the show before handing the remote back to Toby. The last time she had seen her mother had been at the funeral; she wondered what, if anything, Linda made of the fact that her daughter had been missing for ten years. She may not have even noticed. For a moment Sarah toyed with the idea of ringing her but then dismissed it. Her mother belonged to a life that no longer existed and Sarah had no desire to try to return to it.

Sarah rolled onto her side and stared at the empty pillow and the expanse of cool white cotton next to her. She had never been very good at sharing a room, much less a bed, with another person; somehow with Jareth it was different. She found herself missing his familiar, comforting warmth and steady breathing. She missed his scent that evoked both summer afternoons and cool glades under moonlight at the same time and the sound of his heartbeat when she rested her head on his chest. Without him Sarah felt empty and only half-alive; she was conscious of a restlessness that she knew would only quieten when she was back with him. She closed her eyes and relived the intensity and tenderness of the night before, recalling every touch, every whispered word. She ached for him. Such thoughts and memories did lull her into a waking doze full of tantalising images and breathless laughter until, eventually, she fell into something deeper.

But when she woke her skin was damp and her heart was hammering against her rib cage. She seemed to have been involved in a vicious fight with the bed sheets - they were twined around her legs so that she could barely move. She kicked her way free and grabbed the glass of water from the night-stand; her hands were shaking so badly she needed both of them to guide the glass to her mouth and even then she spilled half the contents. The images of the nightmare that had imprinted themselves on her mind so clearly only a few seconds before were already fading - but she was still left with a deep sense of unease. She tried to tell herself that it was nonsense; but even as her heart rate slowed to normal, she could feel that cold hollow in the pit of her stomach.

Sarah switched on the lamp and screwed up her eyes, the sudden light painful after the darkness of the room. She padded across to the mirror that hung over the dressing table.

'Jareth.'

She had spoken softly, barely above a whisper, but still glanced over her shoulder towards Toby's room; there was no sound.

'Jareth.'

There was still no answer; she turned away from the mirror, addressing the room at large in a slightly louder tone. 'If you're sleeping, I'm really sorry if I'm waking you up, but I really need to see you right now.'

She wrapped her arms around herself, starting to feel a little foolish; but her need to see him had gone beyond the simple desire for comfort, she had to see that he was safe and well...

'Sarah.'

She spun around. The eyes were his, though the voice was not. Her surprise at seeing Delaine was superseded only by her surprise at the Princess's dishevelled appearance. Her blonde hair was dirtied and straggled around her scratched face; her clothes were dusty, ripped and smeared with what looked horribly like blood...

The night-terrors that had woken her came flooding back. 'What-what's happened?' She didn't want to hear the answer. But it couldn't be that... He couldn't be... She would know; she would feel it, surely...

'You have to come home. Jareth...'

'He's not dead!' Her voice sounded unnaturally loud.

Delaine's face crumpled like a child's. 'Oh, Sarah...'

To be continued...