CHAPTER FOUR

Another Quest

When Sarah awoke the next morning she half expected to be back in her bedroom in her father's house so it was with surprise and delight that she opened her eyes to see the white canopy fluttering above her and Tipper's homely face looking down at her.

'What time is it?' She asked.

'Morning.' Tipper replied.

'I know it's morning.' Sarah said, leaping out of bed and heading for the wardrobe. She was eager to get to the labyrinth and find Hoggle. 'I mean what time is it. You know, 9 o'clock, 10 o'clock, that sort of thing.'

'Don't know.' Tipper said, shrugging. 'Tipper can't read.'

Sarah stopped and turned to look at her. 'Can't read?'

'None of the goblins can read.' Tipper informed her.

'You're kidding.' Sarah exclaimed. 'None of you?'

'None of us.'

Well, that explained the dusty library, Sarah thought, reaching her hand into the wardrobe and pulling out the first thing it touched. Out came a pink ball gown embroidered with seed pearls. No, not that. Not for the labyrinth. She reached in again and this time pulled out a simple dress of dark blue velvet.

She held it up against herself as she looked into the mirror attached to the wardrobe door. It would have to do. Jareth had conveniently forgotten to provide jeans. Her choice of footwear as equally depressing. She would have preferred a hardy pair of tennis shoes to slippers.

'Would you like to learn how to read?' Sarah asked as Tipper tugged the dress down over her head.

'Nope.'

'Why not?'

'Tipper has better things to do.'

'Like what?'

'Pinging chickens, tossing pumpkins, drinking ale. Lots of things.'

Sarah gave up. Apparently female goblins enjoyed the same pursuits as the males. She suspected she'd get the same reaction from Rum-Pot as she had from Tipper. Reading was not a highly sought after skill. But it was such a shame to let that fine library continue to molder away. Perhaps if she spoke to Jareth, he would order them to read. She nearly laughed at the idea. There was no way Jareth would want his goblins learning how to cast spells and turn lead into gold. Talk about anarchy.

'I need to get to the labyrinth fast.' She told Tipper as she shoved her feet into the sturdiest pair of slippers she could find. 'What do you suggest?'

The goblin thought for a moment and then smiled a toothy grin. 'Follow me.'

She led Sarah out into the hallway and then down a corridor until they came to a large chest with gargoyles on each corner sitting between two suits of tarnished armor.

Tipper lifted the lid of the chest. 'Shortcut.'

Sarah glanced inside. All she could see was the top of what appeared to be a ladder. She looked at Tipper. 'Where does it go?'

'To the labyrinth.' Tipper said as though she wasn't very bright. 'You said you wanted to go to the labyrinth.'

Sarah shrugged and slung one leg over the side of the chest. It didn't look like it led anywhere but down a hole, but she had to remember that things were never as they appeared in the underground. Her toe settled on a rung and then the rest of her body followed until nothing but her head remained outside the chest. She began to climb one rung at a time.

The lower she went, the darker it became, and she wished she'd had the good sense to bring a lantern. She glanced up and saw light. Tipper was still holding the lid open, staring down at her, but soon, even that light disappeared, becoming nothing more than a pinpoint. She suddenly felt claustrophobic and bit her lip to keep from crying out. Courage, Sarah, she admonished herself, forcing herself to keep climbing down into the darkness. This hole must lead somewhere.

And with that thought her feet hit solid ground. Now what? She felt the walls with her hands. They were dry and felt like the gardening pots her friend, Allison, was always planting flowers in. She continued feeling along the wall until she felt a circular ridge about the size of a saucer. She pushed at it, and it moved. Finally, after three or four direct hits, it gave away and light streamed into the hole where she stood.

She blinked momentarily and then smiled when she saw a familiar sight. Hoggle was standing with his back to her, holding a spray gun. He had his head cocked to one side, listening, and then he sprang, firing a puff of mist at a translucent pair of wings. A faerie fell to the ground, coughing.

'Gotcha!' Hoggle said triumphantly.

'Hoggle!' Sarah called.

He spun around. 'Who's that?'

'It's me!' She shouted. 'Sarah!'

'Sarah?' Hoggle echoed. 'Where are you?'

'Over here!' She said, shoving an arm through the opening and waving madly. 'I'm in here!'

Hoggle shuffled over, putting his eye to the opening. 'What are you doing in a flower pot?'

'I didn't know I was in a flower pot.' She replied. 'Can you get me out?'

'Hold on a second. Let me have a look.'

Sarah waited impatiently as Hoggle examined the situation. He seemed to take a great deal of time doing so, walking back and forth, rubbing his chin, muttering to himself before he finally took hold of something and pulled. There was a scraping sound and suddenly a larger hole was opened up, allowing Sarah to climb out into the sunshine. She didn't even bother to wonder how going down a tunnel in the castle could bring her to a flower pot in the labyrinth. She was just happy to be out.

'Oh, thank you, Hoggle!' She exclaimed, giving him a hug.

'No need to get mushy. I only opened a flower pot.' He said, batting her away.

'Still as grouchy as ever.' Sarah said with a smile. 'Some things never change.'

He eyed her suspiciously. 'You've changed.'

'I've grown up.'

'Hmpf.' He muttered. 'I liked you better the way you was.'

'I'm sorry, Hoggle.' She said. 'I couldn't help it, you know. It just happens.'

'If you'd stay in the underground, you'd be exactly the same.'

'I had to go back. You know that.'

'You didn't have to.' He pointed out. 'Jareth wanted you to stay.'

'Yes and be his subject.' She retorted, crossing her arms and walking a few paces off. She still remembered his words. Fear me, love me, do as I say. Those weren't words of love; they were words of conquest. 'He wanted to rule me, Hoggle.'

'Nothing wrong with that.' Hoggle told her. 'He rules all of us. It's not so bad as long as you don't attract his attention.'

'I couldn't very well not to that.' She said.

'No, I don't suppose you could. As his queen, he's bound to notice you.'

'He didn't want a queen.' Sarah said with a snort. 'He wanted a vassal.'

'I'm no fan of Jareth's,' Hoggle began, 'but after you left…'

'Oh, let's not talk about the Goblin King anymore.' Sarah interrupted, turning around and walking back over to where Hoggle still stood beside the flower pot. She looked down at him. 'I need you ask you a favor, Hoggle.'

'What kind of favor?' The dwarf asked warily.

'I,' she paused for a moment, suddenly uncertain how to ask a favor of a friend she hadn't made an effort to see in ages, 'I know I haven't been much of a friend lately. I haven't called for you or Ludo or Sir Didymus in a very long time, but if you still consider yourself my friend, I could really use your help right now.'

There was a silence in which the words Hoggle had spoken years ago seemed to hang in the air around them. If you should need us…

'My help?' Hoggle finally asked, his tone gruff. 'What can I do? I haven't got Jareth's power.'

'I don't need his power. Not now.' She replied. 'I just need a friend, someone who will help me find the cure.'

'What cure?'

'It's Toby, Hoggle. He's very ill. A spellweaver has put a sleeping spell on him, and if I don't find a cure soon, he'll become a dreamshadow. I found a book in the library yesterday that said a spellmaster could remove spells. I've asked Jareth, and he says that a spellmaster used to live in the Western Mountains. I've got to go see him.'

Hoggle suddenly looked uneasy. 'But you have to go through the Dark Wood to get to the Western Mountains.'

'So?'

'So Jareth's at war with the Queen of the Dark Wood. It ain't safe.'

Sarah frowned. 'That's what Jareth said.'

'For once, he's right.' Hoggle declared.

'Oh, Hoggle, not you too.'

'Take it from me, Sarah, it ain't safe.'

'How bad can this place be?' She asked, hands on hips. 'It's just a wood.'

Hoggle looked scandalized. 'It's not just a 'wood'. It's the Dark Wood. And when I say 'dark', I mean 'dark'. It's always night within the Wood, even when it's midday everywhere else. And there's all kind of terrible creatures that live in there.' He added. 'If the elves don't get you, the Medusa will. She'll turn you to stone with one look.'

'Medusa?' Sarah repeated with a laugh. 'Why that's just a myth.'

'Maybe where you come from but not here.' Hoggle insisted. 'She's real alright. If you don't believe me, ask Jareth.'

'I'd prefer not to ask the Goblin King anything.'

'He warned you not to go, didn't he?'

Her lips firmed into a straight line. 'So you're not going to help me?'

Hoggle kicked at a tuff of dirt. 'I didn't say that.'

She smiled and reached out to hug him again. 'I knew I could count on you. What about Sir Didymus? Do you think he's up to another adventure?'

'There's only one way to find out.' Hoggle said. 'Ask him.'

An hour or so later, they were crossing the bridge that Sir Didymus had so valiantly guarded. The bog was as smelly as she remembered it to be, and she hoped their interview with the little fox would be brief and to the point. She knelt down and knocked on the door of his little house. No answer. Not even a bark from Ambrosia.

She turned to tell Hoggle that it appeared that their friend was out when she was suddenly attacked from behind.

'Ah-ha!' Sir Didymus cried. 'Be gone from here, ye giant!'

'Sir Didymus!' She cried. 'It's me! Sarah!'

'Milady?' The fox said, jumping from her shoulders to the ground. 'Is it really you?'

'Yes, it's me.'

Sir Didymus bowed low, flourishing his hat. 'Welcome, Milady. Please forgive me for the attack upon your person. I didn't recognize you. You've changed.'

'So I've been told.' Sarah said, casting a glance at Hoggle who shuffled his feet and looked away. 'I forgive you. The mistake was understandable.'

Having received her forgiveness, Sir Didymus popped back up and looked at her inquisitively. 'What blessed occasion has brought you to my humble dwelling after so many years?

'I'm about to embark on a quest…' she started.

'Say no more.' Sir Didymus interrupted. 'Where are we going?'

'To the Western Mountains.'

'Did you say the Western Mountains?' The fox's voice had lost some of its enthusiasm.

'Yes.'

'But that's through the Dark Wood.'

'I know.'

Sir Didymus looked from side to side before leaning forward and saying in a conspiratorial tone. 'It's very dark in there.'

'Are you afraid of the dark, Sir Didymus?' Sarah asked.

The little fox seemed to bristle with offense. 'I? Scared? Preposterous.'

'Then you'll be going with us tomorrow?'

Sir Didymus hesitated, casting a furtive glance toward his house. 'That rather depends on Ambrosia.'

'I'm confident that you can convince him.' Sarah said with a flattering smile. 'I'm sure a valiant knight like you wouldn't want to miss out of such a worthy quest. If I don't go to the mountains and see a spellmaster that lives there, my little brother will be turned into a dreamshadow. I must find a cure before it's too late.'

Guilt began to grow within her as she watched the little fox wavering. She wasn't being completely honest with her old friends. She hadn't come to the underground to find a cure. She'd come to betray Jareth to the Queen of the very woods they were so reluctant to enter. What would they say if they knew? How she longed to tell them, to avail herself of their counsel, but she knew she couldn't. First of all, she didn't know who was listening, Jareth's crystals could see anything, and secondly, it was such a devious plot that she felt ashamed to even mention it.

It was true that they had no love for Jareth and his rule, but would they prefer Morwenna? Somehow she didn't think so. After all, there was some truth in the idiom 'better the devil you know than the devil you don't'. So for the sake of her friends and the Goblin Kingdom she must make the journey to the Western Mountains.

And what about Jareth, a voice asked. Doesn't he have anything to do with your desire to find another way? Even though he'd been her opponent ten years ago, she hadn't hated him any more than she would have hated an opponent at chess or on the tennis court. He'd been frightening, and he had cheated whenever it had suited him, but honestly, she'd enjoyed every minute of their battle of wills. He'd given her a magnificent adventure, exactly what she'd hoped and longed for. She couldn't repay him by…

'Milady?'

'Hmm?'

'Where shall we meet upon the morrow?'

She looked at Sir Didymus and then at Hoggle, hearing Jareth's question once again in her ear. Are you willing for them to come to harm on your account?

'It'll be dangerous.' She warned them.

'Danger is no stranger to a knight.' Sir Didymus informed her.

'I know, but…'

'If we beat the labyrinth, we can beat the Dark Wood.' Hoggle declared. 'Besides, there's safety in numbers. Where do we meet?'

She wavered and then said. 'At dawn at the Goblin Gate.'

The following morning dawned gray and overcast. Sarah slipped out of bed and quickly dressed in the warmest, thickest dress she could find. The choice was limited, but she finally found a claret-colored dress with long sleeves that ended at a point on the back of her hand. The bodice was tight, hugging her breasts and waist snugly, but the skirt was full and double layered, providing extra warmth and protection. A further search uncovered a pair of flat-heeled black boots and a dark gray hooded cloak lined with silver rabbit fur, which she eagerly put on. Then picking up a knapsack she'd filled with provisions the night before, she tiptoed to the door and let herself out into the hallway.

For once the castle was quiet. Too quiet, she thought as she crept down the stairs and past the throne room where snores were emanating, some loud and vibrating, others soft and whimpering. Wasn't the throne room ever free of goblins? Letting herself out of the castle door, which should have been guarded but wasn't, she raised her hood and hurrying down the steps into the streets of the Goblin City.

Hoggle and Sir Didymus were waiting for her at the gate. Both were wearing cloaks and carrying packs, Hoggle's on his back, Sir Didymus's strapped to Ambrosia's saddle.

'Ah, Milady!' Sir. Didymus cried, waving his lance. 'Fine day for a quest, is it not?'

'Very fine.' Sarah agreed.

'Hmpf.' Hoggle muttered, wiping a drop of water off his nose. 'Bad omen if you ask me.'

'Nonsense, my fine fellow.' Sir Didymus said bracingly as they started off in the direction of the Dark Wood, which loomed dark and menacing in the distance. 'My greatest military triumph occurred in a downpour. Shall I tell you about it?'

'No.' Hoggle growled.

The little fox ignored him. 'It happened in the year of the goat, no, perhaps it was the year of the pig, no, no, it was the goat, I'm sure it was the goat, and it happened on the hill of Avalon…'

Sarah hid a smiled as Hoggle groaned under the weight of Sir Didymus's remembrances. It was going to be a long journey.

From within the crystal, Jareth watched the trio enter the Dark Wood. How had Sarah convinced Higgle and Deadmouse to join her on such an impossible quest? He was well aware that all the subjects of his kingdom, goblin or not, dreaded the Dark Wood. Sarah, if she had any sense, would dread it too, but she always was a willful girl. Hadn't she told him, with a defiant lift of that precious chin, that his labyrinth didn't look so hard? He could see that growing up hadn't made she any less cocky.

The fox, he knew, was a romantic and would go anywhere without much persuasion. Hogwart, however, was a pessimist and should have had more sense. But, Jareth thought with negligent flick of his wrist, which caused the crystal to vanish, he was uncommonly fond of the girl. And he knew from experience how compelling Sarah could be. Hadn't he, against his better judgment, granted her a power that she still wielded to this day?

He sat for a few minutes, tapping his crop against his leg and brooding. What to be done, what to be done. He had a good mind to leave them to their just desserts. He'd warned her, and she had ignored his warning. If she was turned into a block of stone, so be it. Then he could bring her to his castle and there she would remain forever, his beautiful statue.

CRACK…the crop crashed down on the arm of his chair, and he jumped up as though he'd been sitting on burning coals. But he didn't want her that way, bog it. He wanted her alive and breathing, blood and warmth flowing through those lovely veins. A stone Sarah would only be good to look at, to possess as one possessed a jewel, and he wanted more! He didn't want to possess her. He wanted to…what? Love her? Serve her? Cherish her?

He stalked across the room, stopping at the window, hands on hips. Water dripped, running in rivulets along the worn stone and collecting in puddles. Below the streets of the Goblin City were wet and deserted. Goblins hated getting wet. Maybe that was why they rarely, if ever, took baths. Sarah and her friends, however, were dry. Nothing, not even water, penetrated the Dark Wood.

The Dark Wood. Of all places to go. If the Medusa and the elves didn't get them, Morwenna surely would. They would need help, but it would be unwise to use his power. Morwenna would surely feel it. She would know he was in the Wood, and although she could not defeat him personally, she could bring him to his knees by getting her hands on Sarah. It would be foolish to think that she wasn't aware of his special weakness. Everyone in the underground knew about the girl who'd defeated his labyrinth.

So if he was going to help them, he'd have to do it incognito.