Chapter 3

". . . he would have passed a pleasant life of it, in despite of the Devil and all his works, if his path had not been crossed by a being that causes more perplexity to mortal man than ghosts, goblins, and the whole race of witches put together, and that was-a woman."

Washington Irving

Jareth brooded. He'd dreamed of Sarah the night before, of that brief moment in the crystal ball with her. Only this time, he openly begged her to save him from his own demons. And she had flat out refused. In the dream his heart broke and he had woken up in a cold sweat.

He knew that in 12 days, either Hoggle would smuggle Sarah another peach or Sarah would succumb to the craving. It was a delicate game he planned, playing on Hoggle's deception and Sarah's weakness to somehow bring her back to the underground. Even with the grim portent of the dream hanging over his head, he knew he couldn't last much longer without her.

He didn't know why it had to be Sarah, that stubborn and proud girl, but he couldn't imagine any other queen beside him on the throne. She had shown up unexpectedly 5 years earlier-too early. And yet, he couldn't resist offering her the heart that she had stolen from his chest that fist time she had gazed up at him when she had been Toby's age.

She had been wished away to him, like so many children, in a fit of despair and selfishness, by the one person who should have been her protector. Unlike Sarah, her mother had accepted the crystal full of dreams-even before running the Labyrinth-and the wretched woman had left her only daughter in the hands of goblins without a second thought. Jareth had fallen in love with the girl child and knew he couldn't condemn her to goblin form. He had sent her home to her father and watched her intently ever since. He never expected her to find the very book her mother had used to call him, and then wish away her baby brother. He half expected her to do what her mother had and happily exchange the child for a pretty bauble.

But his Sarah had more spunk, more spark, more loyalty and courage than her mother could have ever dreamed of, to chance the dangers of the Labyrinth and win the challenge. She had won her baby brother back, but technically she still belonged to him. Or at least, that was what he had thought until she said those fateful, final words.

"You have no power over me."

He had discovered to his dismay, that while he owned her, he could not compel her. While she owed her human existence to his mercy, he could not collect on the debt. After all, she held his heart-owned it and possessed it as much as he owned and possessed her-except her possession of him was voluntary on his part, and his possession of her was trivial underground law. Which he was bound to enforce. If it was any other mortal, he would have sent them to the bog and have been done with it. Thus was the matter tangled by love.

Now, thanks to his peach and Hoggle's misguided loyalties, he had a second chance. He had only a few days before her life would be in danger again, and when the moment came, he needed to be ready. It would likely be the last opportunity to pull Sarah into the underground, into the throne, and into his bed, as she was already entrenched in his heart, mind and soul.

Sarah woke up before either of her two roommates and quietly slipped out of the cabin. Dawn was threatening, but hadn't quite broken yet. There was a fine layer of frost clinging to the deepest shadows, even though it was July. The air was crisp and fresh and felt delicious against her face.

As she strolled down a deer trail, she felt more than heard the fluttering in the trees above her. It was a strange shifting in the trees, clicking of talons, rustling of feathers. She glanced up to see golden eyes watching her. She kept walking, quickening her pace. Boughs creaked as more and more birds landed in the trees, as they hopped from one branch to another to follow her. Tiny song birds skipped and flitted from bush to bush, not risking a challenge with the raptors higher up. Sarah started to run down the path and heard the trees rustle as birds took flight to follow her.

"This isn't happening. It can't be happening," she muttered to herself, out of breath. "I'm not some crazy bird woman!"

She was sprinting now, blindly dodging trees and clumps of thick brush, having completely abandoned the deer trail. She knew she was moving away from the wildlife outpost because she was heading down hill. She still plowed on until she-quite by luck-stumbled onto the dirt road that lead down from the wildlife research center. With a bit more space around her, she whirled around to try to get a better view of the flock that was now surrounding her.

Birds of all shapes and sizes looked down at her from the trees. Owls, hawks, eagles, falcons, ravens, woodpeckers, songbirds, even a stork or two, all gazing at her with something like expectation in their amber eyes.

"What do you want?" Sarah screamed at them. All at once, they replied with a cacophony of shrieks, screeches and caws. She clapped her hands over her ears at the instant headache it caused. "I can't understand you. I wish I could!"

And suddenly, she did. Eerily, like when she had wished to know the words that would make the goblins take Tobi away, she knew exactly what they wanted. Every single one of them. Mostly, it was food-a constant demand. Some were sick or in pain because of infection or parasite. A few wanted space. One wanted a nest. They were all very avian demands, and for some reason, they thought she could satisfy them.

"I can't do it all!" she yelled. "I just can't!"

The birds called again, and this time, the demand was clear and unified. "Do something."

Sarah sighed shakily and dug her fingernails into her scalp. What could she do? She could take the sick ones back to the wildlife center, where they could be treated, and the rest of them would have to continue on their own; she could hardly feed them all or give them exclusive territory. But would bringing a mixed flock back to the center loose her the scholarship? Was being a bird whisperer a disqualifier?

"Why me?" she moaned. She didn't mean to, but it slipped out. And the answer came, just as loud and undeniable as before.

"Queen."

"Majesty."

"Protector."

"Highness."

"Leader."

"Empress."

"Lady."

"Royalty."

"No!" she cried. "I'm not any of those things!" The birds didn't listen. They just kept calling out the same names, the same titles of responsibility. She ran. This time, she ran uphill and towards the wildlife center. There was shelter that way. Maybe she could just crawl back into bed and discover this was another nightmare.

Sarah ran with her hands pressed over her ears to shut out the birds. With a desperate burst of speed, she ran into the circular drive between all the buildings of wildlife center. Ranger Anne stopped in shock, half way between the mess hall and the aviary. Sarah knew she was staring at the multitude of birds rising from the forest behind her. She ran past her into the mess hall.

Legia, Rachelle and the two boys were there. They looked up, startled by her sudden appearance.

"What's your problem?" Legia sneered.

"Being harassed by wildlife," she panted.

Then ranger Anne came in behind her, looking very confused. "Sarah, do you have some strange black market bird bait in your pockets or something?"

"What? No!" Sarah cried. "I don't know what's going on. I was just walking and they started following me."

Everyone look at her like she had grown horns.

"I swear, I didn't do anything!" she was close to tears now.

"Maybe it's some sort of migration brought on by a flux in the magnetic fields of the earth," suggested Rachelle timidly. That earned her a venomous look from Legia, which Rachelle bravely ignored as she continued, "I mean, aren't the poles supposed to switch or something in 2012?"

"Magnetic evidence of samples of the sea floor indicate some sort of global field flux is due soon, but the actual date 2012 is only speculation, based mostly on the Mayan calendar," Nathan interjected.

"It doesn't much matter when the world's coming to an end," Ranger Anne informed them all. "What I want to know is why all those birds are out there—not behaving like birds!"

Sarah sighed and covered her face with her hands. "I don't know, I just don't know."

"Well, you'd better figure it out and put an end to it," Anne warned, her voice steely with resolve. "We're not running a circus here. I have half a mind to send you down the hill right now to get you out of my hair and maybe get the help you need."

I need Jareth's help to sort this out, she thought before she could stop herself. On the heels of that thought, came the idea, Maybe my Labyrinth friends can help! But where could she get the privacy to summon them? It was hopeless. She was about to lose the internship. "I wish they'd just go away," she whispered.

"Hey, I think they're leaving!" the other boy—Tyson—exclaimed, looking out the window. Soon everyone else was gathered around him. Sarah didn't move, torn between hoping that her desperate wish was coming true, and terrified of the implications.

"Huh. I guess they're not interested in us anymore," Nathan mused.

Sarah let out the breath she'd been holding. Ranger Anne shot her a look, but didn't say another word. She didn't need to. Sarah had seen that same look on her step-mother's face. If she set one more toe out of line, she'd be on the next truck off the mountain. She didn't know how she was going to last another seven and a half weeks.

The rest of the week dragged on without further incident. Then the next week passed as well. Sarah dutifully helped in all the wildlife enclosures, and did her best to minimize her contact with the birds. Every time she saw that barn owl, she felt like she was being watched. But Ranger Anne had informed everyone that the white bird was a female, her name Luna, and so Sarah's irrational fear that the Goblin King was keeping tabs on her was laid to rest.

Saturday night was movie night, and everyone settled down in the mess hall to watch Million Dollar Mermaid. Sarah waited until the move started before discretely leaving the mess hall to call Eric.

"Sarah!" he cried into the phone. "I thought you were giving me the cold shoulder or something—I couldn't even call you!"

"I had to turn off the phone," she explained apologetically. "There was an…incident here that's kind of put me on probation."

"Tofu in the coffee creamer?" he asked, knowingly.

"No," she scolded, but couldn't keep a smile from tugging the corners of her mouth at the memory of that prank. "I…a flock of birds were following me around, and I was accused of using illegal materials to entice them."

"WHAT?"

"It was just in passing," she hastily assured him. "But everyone has been giving me the evil eye ever since."

"Jerks," Eric grumbled.

Sarah chuckled. Leave it to Eric not to question any strange bird behavior, but to throw his complete support behind her, no matter what. That was why he was her best friend, and now her boyfriend. "I just have to survive another seven weeks, and then everything will be fine."

"It's only forever," Eric replied darkly. "Not long at all."

Sarah paused for a moment, remembering the last time she had heard that phrase. Then she shook her head to clear it. Coincidence. That was all.

"Too long for me," she replied finally. "I really wish—" she caught herself. Too many wishes had been made lately. "I mean, it'd be nice if I could see you. You know, for moral support."

"I could drive through the night and be there tomorrow," he reminded her.

"But fraternization with outsiders would get me kicked off the mountain for sure," she teased.

"How have you been feeling?" he asked, softly but seriously.

"I'm fine. Strong as an ox," she insisted.

"Will you call me if you start feeling sick?" he wanted to know.

"Of course not. Then you'd really do something stupid, like sky-dive into the camp," she joked.

"I'm serious, Sarah," he said warningly. "If I have to hit you on the head and drag you off that mountain cave-man-style so you can get the medical attention you need, I'll do it."

"Can we talk about something else?" she sighed. "I appreciate your concern, but I don't want every conversation we have to be about my health."

"Ok, then. So, have you been writing?" he dutifully changed the subject.

"A little," she admitted with relief. "I had an idea for a story called Don't Call Me Thumbelina. It's about a tiny girl who—like Thumbelina—was born in a flower, except no one is there to take care of her. So she has to learn about things herself from junk lying around a fishing cabin—including an old porn magazine."

"That's hilarious," Eric laughed. "Is she going to use a condom for an umbrella?"

Sarah started giggling. "Maybe as a ground tarp for her sleeping bag."

"What's behind the Don't Call Me part of your story?" Eric asked.

"Thumbelina was a total pushover. I mean she almost married a mole because she didn't have better options at that moment. A mole! Seriously!" Sarah mock-ranted. "So my character, Theo, is looking for friends, but she's not going to be a damsel in distress. She's going to be helpful and spunky and goofy-innocent and funny and all the things the normal romance heroines aren't."

"Am I sensing a little allegory?" he teased. "So, we've got the setting. What's the plot?"

"I'm not sure yet. I'm thinking she meets someone and goes on an adventure," she suggested lamely.

"How about a world-savvy flower boy who sweeps her off her feet?" Eric suggested.

"I said I was trying to get away from the cheesy romance, remember?" she rolled her eyes.

"Well, then what if she meets a full sized boy who is so enamored with her that he puts her in a cage?" he amended. "He wants to keep her safe and beautiful, and he does it in all the wrong ways. He has nightmares about her leaving him, so he lies to her about the outside world."

"That sounds creepy, especially coming from you…but I love it!" she cried.

Eric laughed. "I'm glad my inner stalker doesn't scare you off."

"Like all the dramatically twisted men in my life, I'll just use you for inspiration for my next best-selling novel," she said flippantly.

"Who else have you met that's dramatically twisted?" he demanded suspiciously.

"N-no one," she hedged nervously. Crap! She couldn't believe he caught that. She certainly wasn't going to explain about Jareth here and now. "I'm just saying."

"Re-e-eally," he replied knowingly. "I'm thinking that your last novel had a dark source. So, Sarah, apple of my eye, dearest light of my life… Who was the inspiration for Underground?"

"A magician doesn't give away her secrets, and an author doesn't reveal her sources," she informed him with an air of superiority.

"That's journalists," Eric pointed out.

She sighed heavily. "And if I told you that the Goblin King himself had inspired me, would you believe me?"

Eric laughed. "Fine, keep your mysterious fountain of inspiration a secret. I'll get it out of you someday."

"Not today," Sarah sighed in relief. She put her hand to her temple to ease the beginnings of a headache. Her hand came away dark and sticky. Sarah moved into one of the flood lights, alarmed at the streaks of blood on her fingers. She wiped her forehead and discovered more blood. Her hand started to tremble.

"Look, I know you're really into this whole scholarship thing, but just to give you something to look forward to, I have special plans for our first date," he told her. "There's a new club in town—the Oubliette. Very elegant, very European. I was thinking you could get all dolled up and we could have a real romantic time there. I'm planning to go all out—limo and everything!"

Sarah couldn't think of a worse place to go for a date. She started to shiver as she remembered dropping into that musty, dark pit. The night around her suddenly seemed darker, as she lied, "Sure, that sounds fantastic. Can't wait. I have to go now. One of the rangers is calling me over."

"Alright," Eric sighed. "Take care of yourself. And remember—just call."

"I know, I really appreciate it," she replied. "Talk to you soon. Goodbye!"

She hung up quickly, tears pricking in her eyes. She couldn't even be honest with her boyfriend. Did Jareth's power really extend this far? Could he influence her life as much as he did her dreams? There were just too many coincidences for her to ignore.

And to top it all off, the her mysterious sickness was coming back. She felt it draining her strength. She had hoped that the fresh mountain air could have prevented a relapse—she had been counting on it. Now, as she stumbled to her bunk, she felt dizzy and nauseous. She tripped up the two steps that lead up to the cabin door.

Sarah collapsed on Rachelle's bed, the tremors becoming too violent to ignore. This was worse than all the other times she'd relapsed. She felt so homesick that she couldn't tell what was her body betraying her and what was regular misery.

Could she make it through the night? Should she call for help now? Should she open Hoggle's box? He'd said to use it if she was really sick again. Did this count? Or would she be sicker later and need it then.

Sarah couldn't think straight. Her head was pounding, her throat and sinuses felt raw, her stomach churned violently. Finally she made her choice. If she was any sicker than this, she would likely die. Too dizy to walk to her duffle bag, she slid to the floor and crawled over to it. She rummaged through her clothes, searching for the small wooden box.

It wasn't there.

"Looking for this?" an annoying, superior voice inquired behind her. Legia held the box like it was a dead rat. "I thought you might have a stash somewhere—no one can act that weird normally."

"I need that," Sarah growled between clenched teeth.

"You only think you need it," Legia retorted. "You're a druggie. You're just going though withdrawals."

"I'm sick," Sarah protested, leaning up against the bed post for support.

"I'll say you're sick," Legia sneered. "You're sick in the head. What's in here, anyway? I couldn't open it."

"I don't know," Sarah sighed. Her vision was starting to tunnel, the edges fading out. She'd faint soon, and then what? Would Legia leave her to die in the cabin, under the pretense of letting Sarah detox? Sarah held out a hand. "Please…please…"

"God, you're pathetic," Legia snapped and threw the box.

It landed in Sarah's lap. Her fingers fumbled for the catch. The box sprang open. Sarah stared at what was inside, disbelieving. "But…but…why?" she gasped. All the strength left her body in abject defeat. "Why?"

"What is it?" Legia demanded leaning gingerly over Sarah's motionless figure to take a peak. "A peach? You get high off peaches?"

"Hoggle…" Sarah moaned. "Why, Hoggle? Why?"

"You are just too weird. I'm telling Ranger Anne," Legia said as she left the cabin.

Well, that was it, thought Sarah. She'd lost her internship and the scholarship. Hoggle had given her a peach, and she was going to die on this forsaken mountain top if…if…She couldn't put the pieces together. There was something missing. "Jareth…" she whispered. "I wish…Jareth…"

Jareth felt the call. Incomplete as the wish was, she had used his name and that held almost as much power as the wish itself. Instantly, Jareth was at the cabin window looking in on his precious Sarah. The sight of her broke his heart. She was so pale, her skin almost translucent. The fire in her eyes had gone out, quenched by the tears streaming down her face.

He rushed to her side, swept her into his arms. Hoggle's box and the peach fell to the floor. Jareth set Sarah on the bed before retrieving the peach. He tore the peach in half and held one juicy hemisphere to her lips. The golden liquid dripped from the soft flesh and between her pale lips. Her tongue darted out to savor the sweet, life-giving, juice.

"Yes, precious," Jareth murmured, desperately. "Choose life. Don't leave me."

Sarah's mouth moved of its own accord, latching on to the fruit he offered. Quickly, her color was coming back to her face. Strength flooded her limbs. Her eyes fluttered.

Jareth smiled. She would live until death brushed her again in 13 days time. He brushed a kiss on her forehead.

"Call me if you need me," he whispered. Taking the half eaten peach, he vanished into the night.

"Right now," declared Legia, "she's doing drugs in there."

"Sarah?" Ranger Anne called.

"Yes?" Sarah answered, a bit groggily.

"Are you alright?" Anne asked, suspiciously. She came into the cabin, looking around for any evidence to support Legia's claim.

"Fine," Sarah asured her. "I just needed my medication."

"Medication?" Legia cried indignantly. "She's doing hard core drugs!"

"May I see the bottle?" Anne asked.

Sarah summoned just enough energy to glare at her rival. "Yeah, real hardcore. They stop my fainting spells."

"No—she had a box with a peach—" Legia denied. "I took it—"

"So that's why I haven't been able to find it lately!" Sarah shot back. "I've only just missed passing out because I had an emergency back up in my box. What did you do with it?"

Legia looked desperately from Sarah to Ranger Anne. "It was…a peach," she denied lamely. "In the box…"

"Give Sarah back her medication," Anne ordered in her firmest no-nonsense voice.

"But I don't have it—"

"Stealing another intern's medication is a serious offence," Anne warned. "Give Sarah back her pills or you're going down the mountain tomorrow."

"But—but—" Legia gasped, appalled at the sudden turn of events.

"I can get more from a pharmacy tomorrow," Sarah offered. "It's not a big deal."

"It is a big deal," Anne corrected. "We have a lot of medical materials—including drugs that are not available over the counter. If she's stealing your fainting medication, she could also be taking a lot more dangerous medication out of the labs."

"It's not fair!" Legia whined. "I didn't do anything."

"Pack your things," Ranger Anne snapped. "You're going home tomorrow."