CHAPTER SIX
As the Pain Sweeps Through
The great white owl rode on the wind currents. They were strong in the mountains, sometimes taking him by surprise. He scanned the landscape below him, his sharp eyes picking out details that in his human form he wouldn't have been able to see. Something scurried beneath a boulder, taking cover as his shadow passed over, but he ignored it as he always did. Goblin Kings didn't eat rodents.
In the distance the spellmaster's mountain came into view, its narrow peak ringed by a layer of mist. He soared toward it, wheeling and swooping as he gradually lost altitude, diving through the mist until he was just above the encircling balcony. Dropping lightly onto the railing, he turned into his human form and then stood listening.
There was no sound except for the whine of the wind through the chasm. The place seemed deserted, like a ghost town, and his heart sank. Here was the one piece of information, except for how Morwenna came to be in possession of Meara's stone, that he didn't know. He had come before, but the spellmaster had refused to answer. Would he do so now? Was he even still capable of doing so?
Striding forward he took hold of the curtain and threw it back. Light poured into the cave, illuminating its dark recesses. Jareth took a step inside and then another and another until he was standing in the middle of the room, staring down at a table. He slid one gloved finger across the surface. It left a visible streak. The room hadn't been used for some time.
Damn!
'He said you would come.'
He whirled around. A woman stood in the doorway, silhouetted against the light. She was dressed in a long, flowing robe. It reached the tops of her bare feet, spilling over them onto the stone floor like a puddle. Her hair was dark and fell like a rope to her waist. He could not see her face, but he did see her right ear in the light pouring past her. It was pointed. She was an elf.
'Where is he?' He demanded.
'He's gone.'
'Where?'
'To where all spellmaster go eventually.'
Jareth's worse fear had been confirmed. 'He's dead.'
'He lives within the mountain.'
He felt like throwing the table against the room. How dare the old deceiver die without revealing what he knew? His hands clenched and unclenched as he struggled to contain the anger that had boiled within him. It had churned nonstop ever since he'd become aware of the spellmaster's role in the Beloved disappearance. Unable to withstand the force of his emotion, he dropped to his knees, doubling over as remembered pain and anguish swept through him like a tidal wave.
'You are Jareth, are you not?'
He'd forgotten about her.
'Yes,' he said between clenched teeth, 'I'm Jareth, King of the Goblins.'
'I have been given permission to tell you what you want to know.'
He raised his head and glared at her with narrowed eyes. 'Who the bog are you? And what do you know about it?'
'I am Deidra, and I know everything. I was there. I was Queen Meara's handmaiden. I took the child.'
'You took the child?'
She made a graceful incline of her head. 'I took the child before the usurper could discover her whereabouts and take her for himself.'
'Who gave you permission to do so?'
'The child's mother. We had seen his ambition. We had discerned his intentions. But Ciarán would not believe it of his trusted captain so we agreed that I should take the child if what we suspected ever happened. Once Ciarán gave her to you, the die was cast.'
'Yes,' Jareth rasped, getting to his feet, 'she was mine. He gave her to me.'
'Your prior claim would make no difference to the dark one. He could take his master's kingdom by force, but he could not keep it as long as the elf child lived. He would either have to kill her or marry her himself. Meara and I knew this and that is why I took the child on the night he made his move.'
Jareth struggled to control his temper. How dare these two women interfere? Yet he could not deny their logic, their intent. He knew enough about Ronan to know that he would have done exactly that ~ kill the child or marry her himself. Still the pain persisted.
'I understand your reasons for taking her,' he allowed, 'but why hide her? Why allow me to believe her lost?'
There was a heavy silence and then Deidra said. 'There were unexpected complications.'
'What?'
The word was like a gunshot, hard and abrupt. Deidra looked at him, noting the intense emotion, the anguish that still lingered even after all these years, even after he had finally recovered his promised bride. She sighed. She had warned the spellmaster that hiding the child from him would cause unnecessary pain, but the spellmaster was adamant. The child must be protected above all things. In due time, the Goblin King would find his bride again.
'When I took the child, I brought her here to the mountains. I knew the mountains would protect her. I knew the spellmaster's power would shield her whereabouts from those sought her. We originally meant only to hide her until she was old enough to marry, but…'
'But what?'
Once again, his voice came hard and abrupt.
'But the child did not grow older.' Deidra said sadly. 'We kept waiting for her to grow, but she remained one year old in body and mind. As such she could not fulfill her destiny. The Goblin King could not marry a baby. The spellmaster concluded that a spell had been placed on her but try as he might he could not removed it so we continued to hide her. Then one hundred years to the date of her father's betrayal, she finally began to grow.'
'And you still hid her from me?'
Deidra's soft heart melted at the raw anguish in his voice, and she hurried to reassure him. 'We hid her from everyone. Not just you. We had to preserve the Elfstone line.'
'But I loved her. She was mine.' His voice was husky with suppressed emotion. 'I would have defended her with my life.'
'You were not yet the Goblin King, and you had gone against Aldrich's expressed wishes and betrothed yourself. How could you have protected her against the usurper without Aldrich's support? Jareth,' she pleaded, 'had there been any other way, we would have chosen it. We saw your anguish. We saw how you mourned. But the spellmaster's one purpose was to preserve the Elfstone line. Without it there would be no peace in the underground, and peace was his dearest desire. He had to obey the stars.'
Jareth turned away from her and stalked over to the crater that had once served as a hearth. He stared at it, fighting back his emotion. When he spoke again, his voice was quiet, almost weary.
'And after she began to grow? What did you do?'
'When she was two years old, it was decided that I should take her to the aboveground. I would have taken her there sooner, but it would have looked odd to the humans if the baby remained a baby. I took her to the aboveground and gave her to Meara's people. I…' she faltered and then continued, 'I loved the man as deeply as my kind can love a human, but I could not stay. I had to return to the world to which I belonged. All of us born in the underground must eventually return to it. The stars draw us back. The man loved the child as his own, and she loved him as her father. Yet her heart longed for the underground, and when the time was right, she returned.'
'She returned because I went and got her.' Jareth retorted. 'If it hadn't been for that rumor…'
'That rumor originated here. The spellmaster whispered it into the wind, and the wind took it from there.' Deidra told him. 'He said the time was right.'
'The time was right, was it?' Jareth snapped. 'If the time was right, why did she turn me down? Why did I have to wait another ten years before what was written in the stars was fulfilled.'
He saw the corner of her mouth twitch. Was the blasted woman laughing at him? 'You cannot blame that on us, Goblin King. It was your method of wooing that delayed your wedding day. Believe me, the spellmaster was furious. He turned himself into a rock and wouldn't talk for days, and when he did finally talk, he called you a blooming fool.'
He scowled at her from across the room. 'I wouldn't have had to woo her if he hadn't hid her from me.'
'If you wanted her love, you would have had to woo her. She's half human, and human women don't just fall in love because you marry them and order them to do so. Ciarán learned that lesson very early in his courtship of Meara. But despite your earlier mishaps, all has ended well. You have your queen, and she loves you.'
'What makes you think it's ended well?' Jareth retorted. 'Would I be here if it had?'
The side of her mouth turned downwards. 'What do you mean?'
'That blasted ring of Meara's has been sending her dreams, haunting her as she calls it, and now she wants answers.'
The elf woman inclined her head once again. 'I'm not surprised. The Elfstone longs for the Elfstone heir. It has not been happy serving the usurper yet it must serve whoever rules the Vale. It will continue to seek her until she stands where her parents stood. You, Goblin King, must help her find her destiny. It is time to tell her the truth.'
'If I tell her the truth, if she finds out that I've known who and what she is, she'll hate me. She'll think I deliberately kept it from her.'
'Didn't you?'
'I didn't have all the answers.'
'Now you do. You must tell her and trust the stars for the outcome.'
***SCENE CHANGE***
Toby was not happy. In fact he was greatly disturbed. He leaned against the doorway of his sister's room, watching her apply lipstick. Why did she need lipstick for a business meeting? He didn't like it. He didn't like it at all. And that black, slinky dress…Jareth would hit the roof if he knew she'd put it on for someone other than him. Her behavior was seriously jeopardizing any hopes he might have of being the next Goblin King.
And, besides, he cared about his sister and didn't want her messing up her life. She'd been wonderfully happy until those dreams started. She needed to go back to the Goblin King and be wonderfully happy again.
'That's an awful sexy dress for a business meeting.' He noted.
'It's dinner.' Sarah said, picking up a brush and pulling it through her hair. 'I can't go in jeans and a t-shirt.'
'Why not? I do it all the time.'
'You're a teenager. It's all you have.'
'I don't see why you couldn't have met in his office.' Toby grumbled. 'That's usually were business is conducted.'
'He says he takes his clients to dinner all the time.' Sarah said with a shrug. 'He said it's more conducive to talking about skeletons in closets.'
'He looks the type that would have a few skeletons stuffed in tight places.'
She shot him a glance. 'You're not going to start in about his teeth again, are you?'
'If you want to have dinner with Dracula…' he let the sentence trail off suggestively.
Sarah obviously didn't like what he was suggesting. She slammed the brush down on the vanity and turned in her chair to glare at him. 'It's dinner, not an affair.'
Toby studied his fingernails. 'I suppose that's what a lot of women have told themselves.'
'What exactly are you trying to say?'
'Oh, nothing. I just can't imagine Jareth being too pleased if he knew you was going to dinner with Count Dracula dressed in a dress like that. Matter of fact, I think a few goblin heads would roll if he knew.'
'Jareth isn't here.' She snapped, turning to face the mirror once again. 'He chose to go back home.'
'Is that what this is about?' Toby exclaimed. 'You're still sore about him for ordering you to go home and then disappearing when you refused?'
'No,' Sarah said, standing up, 'this is about stopping those dreams, and if that means dinner with Dracula, then it means dinner with Dracula. Got it, sport?'
Toby watched her scoop up her wrap and a small black purse before stalking out of the bedroom and down the stairs. Shortly thereafter the front door banged followed by the sound of her rental revving up. Tires squealed as she left the driveway.
'What was that all about?' His father yelled from downstairs.
'Nothing, Dad!' He called back. 'Just being a woman, I guess.'
'I heard that!' His mother yelled.
Toby went down the hall to his own room and threw himself down on the bed. He grimaced and removed a book from under his back, tossing it onto the floor. He really ought to tidy up someday. His room looked like a disaster zone, but he didn't have time for straightening his room. He had to straighten out his sister.
He considered the problem from all angles and only came up with two solutions. Either he could crash Sarah's dinner date, which was sort of impossible since he didn't have his drivers licenses and explaining to his parents why they needed to drive him to a place called The Stone Jar would take more time than he had or he could go get Jareth and tell him it was high time he collected his wife.
The choice, as far as Toby was concerned, was a no brainer.
***SCENE CHANGE***
'I'm so glad you could meet me for dinner.' Ron Drummond said, pouring them both a glass of wine from the bottle left by the waiter. 'It's so much friendlier than the office, don't you think?'
Sarah cast a glance around the restaurant. She would have chosen a different word to describe their surroundings. A 'friendly' place would have loud music and people laughing over a few beers at the bar. The Stone Jar had neither.
Oh, it had a bar, but the people were not laughing nor where they drinking beer. They were sipping martinis as they conversed in subdued voices, and the music, a sort of new age piano, could not in any way be described as loud. Everything, from its low lighting to its secluded tables, had been designed to create an atmosphere of intimacy….which at that moment was causing Sarah a great deal of unease.
She should have never agreed to this. Toby was right. Business should be conducted in an office, not a restaurant. She couldn't imagine what made her accept his invitation. After all, who had ever heard of having dinner with one's genealogist? It was like having dinner with one's dentist!
Oh, hell, she groaned, glancing down at the napkin in her lap, there it was again. A reference to teeth. Damn Toby for putting it in her head. It was like the song 'Come on, Eileen'. It just got stuck there, driving you mad, toora loo-rye-aye and all that. Whenever she looked at him, her eyes were immediately drawn to those teeth and visions of Dracula sulking down a dark passage ran through her head like a B-rate movie.
'I thought your office very friendly.' She said a bit lamely. 'It was very professional, exactly what I would expect from a genealogist.' Good Lord, she was beginning to babble. 'By the way, how's your receptionist?'
He'd been getting ready to take a sip of wine and stopped, staring at her over the rim. 'My receptionist?'
'You know,' Sarah said, pointing to her jaw, 'the abscess.'
Oh, jeez, teeth again!
'Oh, that.' He said with a little chuckle. 'She had a root canal and was back to the work the next morning. Madge is a real trooper.'
'Good.' Sarah said. 'Great.'
He set down his wineglass, put his elbows on the table and looked at her over his folded hands. 'You seem nervous. I assure you that I don't bite.'
If you want to have dinner with Dracula…
Just shut up, Toby! Shut up!
Sarah forced her fingers to stop playing with her fork. She carefully laid it beside her plate before saying. 'I'm just eager to hear what you found out about the woman in the photo. You said on the phone that you'd found her. Perhaps we could discuss that before our entrée arrives.'
He removed his elbows and leaned back in his chair. 'Of course, that's what we're here for, isn't it?'
'Yes,' Sarah said firmly, 'it is. Why don't we start with her name?'
He inclined his dark head as though in agreement and said. 'Her name was Mary Kate Doyle. She was your great grandfather's daughter by his first marriage.'
Sarah frowned. 'I didn't know Great Grandpa Doyle had been married twice.'
'He was married to a woman by the name of Anne Morrison. She died of scarlet fever not long after Mary Kate was born, but John, your great grandfather, didn't remarry again until Mary Kate was sixteen. Since the family was fairly well off, I guess he didn't see the need to get her a new mother. She had a nanny and later a governess.'
'Funny that Grandma didn't remember her. You'd think she'd remember a stepsister.'
'She probably didn't remember her because Mary Kate drowned at sea a year before your grandmother was born.'
Sarah stared at him. 'Drown at sea? That's a little unusual, isn't it?'
Drummond shrugged. 'Boating was a favorite pastime of the wealthy in those days, and as you can see from the photo, she obviously liked sailing.'
'How did it happen?'
He thrust a hand into his pocket and removed a photocopy of a newspaper article. It was dated June 19, 1910 and declared 'Doyle Heiress Lost at Sea'. 'I'll let you read the details for yourself, but essentially, she went out sailing and a freak storm came up. She'd been warned not to go out alone, but she was known for her, shall we say, independent nature. To give you an idea, she was involved in the suffrage movement at the tender age of twelve. No doubt introduced to it by her Aunt Jo, a prominent feminist at the time.'
'This says she was an heiress. My family isn't rich.'
'Like a lot of people, your great grandfather lost most of his wealth in the Crash of '29.'
Sarah scanned the article. 'She was only eighteen. How sad.'
'Such a pity.' Drummond agreed.
'It says here that neither her body nor the boat was ever found.'
'Yes, that is interesting, isn't it? I immediately thought of the Bermuda Triangle. They go in but never come out.'
She shot him a glance. 'You don't believe in things like that, do you?'
He was silent for a moment, his eyes on her, studying her and then he said. 'Why not? There are many unexplained things in this world. It's just like this stone.' He reached into his pocket and pulled out the green gem she'd seen earlier in his office. 'There just something about it that fascinates me. Do you know what I mean?'
'No, I don't.' She said, her eyes on the gem. 'I've only touched it once.'
'Then be my guest.' He held it out to her.
'Ah, no thank you.' She told him. 'I'd rather not.'
She was saved from any further urging by the arrival of their entrees. To her dismay, instead of putting the stone away, he placed it on the table between them so that throughout the meal, her eyes were constantly drawn to it. Why this fascination, she wondered. Was it because it seemed so familiar yet she was unable to remember why? It was like a veil had been placed over her mind, blocking out that particular memory.
So it was with some relief that she watched the waiter removed their plates and return almost immediately with the check. She reached for her purse.
'I'll get it.' Drummond said.
'Oh, no, I couldn't.' Sarah protested. 'I hired you, not the other way around.'
'I have an expense account for this type of thing.' He told her, reaching for the leather folder. 'Oh, damn,' he muttered a second later, 'I seem to have knocked the stone off the table. Could you grab it for me?'
Reluctantly she bent down, her fingers searching. As soon as she touched the smooth surface, she froze. A vivid image flashed before her eyes. Ron Drummond, or someone very much like him, had just thrust a knife into a bearded man's back. There was a look of surprise on the man's face and then he pitched forward. Drummond reached down, removed the knife and then stood back, smiling as he surveyed his handiwork.
The image was gone as quickly as it had come, but Sarah remained froze in place, her heart racing.
'Sarah?' Drummond called. 'Are you alright?'
She sat upright, holding the stone out to him. 'I'm fine. It…it rolled under my chair.'
Their hands touched briefly in the exchange, and she shuddered. Toby was right. There was something not quite right about this man, and she needed to leave.
'I really do appreciate the work you've done.' She said, standing up. 'I'll drop a check in the mail to you, ok?'
Drummond rose to his feet, frowning. 'You really don't look well. I'll walk you to your car.'
'No, no, I'm fine.' She assured him, backing away.
He might have followed her if the waiter hadn't arrived that moment with his receipt. Taking advantage of his distraction, she made a run for it, hurrying out of the restaurant and across the parking lot. She jumped in the car, started the engine and floored the accelerator. It was only after she was sure he wasn't following that she pulled the car into the parking lot of a strip mall and broke down.
She didn't cry. She just sat there, gasping and shaking. The image had been so vivid and so violent. It was like one of her dreams, but not a dream because she wasn't asleep. Would they never leave her alone? Would they drive her mad?
She'd come to the aboveground to find answers, and all she'd found was more questions. Why was her great grandfather's daughter haunting her dreams? And who was her father? None of it made sense. All these bits of information she'd collected were like pieces in a puzzle that refused to fit together, and she was confused, so very, very confused.
Suddenly an overwhelming urge to go home washed over her. She had to go back to the underground, back to Jareth…she paused as a wave of longing flooded her. Jareth, how she needed him right now, how she needed the safety of his arms about her. She didn't care if he made her wait on his doorstep all night and apologize a thousand times. All she cared about was being where she belonged. To hell with saying goodbye to Toby and her dad, to hell with the goblin Sarah and Paul whatever his name was, she was going home. Tonight.
***SCENE CHANGE***
Jareth glided into the window of the Goblin Castle. He was exhausted, both physically and mentally. His meeting with the elf woman had stirred up emotions that he'd suppressed for years, and he felt drained. But it was a good drained, he decided, dropping lightly to the floor. The storm had passed, and he felt calm, peaceful even. Knowing the whole truth had freed him, and it was now time to free Sarah. But first…first he had to get some sleep.
'It's about time you showed up.' A voice said as soon as he'd changed back into his human form. 'I've got a history test in the morning, and I haven't studied yet.'
His heart had quickened for a brief moment, thinking it was Sarah, but slowed when he realized it was her brother. He should have never showed the boy how to get to the underground through other means than the pond. As a result the boy popped in and out at will, just like a blasted yo-yo.
'That's your problem, not mine.' Jareth said. 'I didn't invite you here.'
'Gee, you really know how to make a guy feel welcome. Hey! Where are you going?'
'To bed.' Jareth replied, walking toward the bedchamber, his fingers on the buttons of his black jacket. 'So I suggest you hurry up and tell me what you want so I can get some sleep and you can get back to your algebra.'
'History.' Toby corrected, following him in the bedchamber. He picked up the jacket Jareth had tossed carelessly on the floor. 'You can't go to sleep.'
Jareth glared at him from the side of the bed where he was removing his boots. 'Watch me.'
'But you can't.' Toby insisted. 'You've got to go get Sarah.'
'She's kept this long. I think she'll keep until morning.'
'No, she won't.' Toby protested. 'You've got to get her now.'
The frantic tone in the boy's voice finally captured Jareth's attention, and he looked at him, noting his worried expression. Toby had never been the type of kid to worry. As a matter of fact, Jareth had always found the boy far too laidback. He had often worried that under Toby's rule, the goblins would run amok. But that didn't concern him now. What concerned him was why the boy was so insistent that he had to go collect Sarah.
'What happened?' He demanded. 'Is she sick? Hurt?'
'No, it's not that.' Toby said. 'She's ok. At least health-wise. I'm not so sure about her marbles though. She's obsessed with that picture, so obsessed that she hired Dracula to find this woman, and now she's having dinner with him…right now…in a black, slinky dress.'
Jareth rubbed his eyes wearily. Why did everyone sound like Hoggle these days? 'The reference to marbles and Dracula completely eludes me.'
'Marbles is slang for her mind.' Toby said, tapping his own head as though that would explain everything. 'And she hired a genealogist because Grandma Williams didn't know who the woman was. And this genealogist dude is a creep, ok? He's got teeth like Dracula, well, not really like Dracula's because his are all pointy and I don't think he can suck blood with them, at least, I hope not, and I knew he was up to no good when he gave her that rock and said it liked her. I mean who ever heard of a rock liking someone?'
'Say that again.'
'Do I have to? It was kind of long.'
'Just the part about the teeth and rock.'
Toby sighed. Grown-ups were so slow on the uptake. Usually Jareth was quicker than this, but…he looked at the Goblin King more closely…he was looking a bit worn out. What had the dude been up to?
'This genealogist she hired has pointed teeth, ok? Looks like he filed them down or something. And he has this rock, it's a jewel of some sort, I guess, and when Sarah held it, it glowed brighter than it did before. He told her he'd gotten it a shop called the Goblin's Attic, and it was called an Elfstone.'
Alarm shot through Jareth like a lightning bolt, dissipating all weariness. He was suddenly and completely alert, his full attention on Toby.
'Elfstone?' He said, his voice sharp. 'Did he actually say it was an Elfstone?'
'Yeah, that's what he called it. When I saw the effect it had on Sarah, I took it away from her and put it back on his desk, and then I got her the hell out of there. But that creep had the nerve to call her up and invite her to dinner to discuss the woman. And she accepted! She said if she had to go out to dinner with Dracula to get the dreams to stop, she would. I tell you, Jareth, she's not herself. Isn't there anything you can do to stop these dreams? I think they're driving her crazy or something.'
Jareth rose to his feet, his expression grim. Sleep would have to wait. Sarah was in danger. Ronan had found her, and after seeing the effect Sarah and the Elfstone had on each other, he must suspect that she was the lost princess.
He took the jacket from Toby and shrugged it on. 'Yes, Toby, there's something I can do.'
'Great!' Toby said with a wide grin. 'I knew I could count on you.'
***SCENE CHANGE***
Sarah was frantically digging through dresser drawers when a sudden burst of lilac-scented air ruffled her hair. Had she left the window open again? She glanced up, and in the mirror above the dresser saw Jareth's reflection. He was standing just inside the window, looking very grave, sorrowful almost. She whirled around, clutching underwear in one hand and stockings in the other.
'I thought you said you wouldn't be on my doorstep.'
'I'm not on your doorstep.' He said simply. 'I'm in your bedroom.'
They stared at each other for a long moment, some unspoken emotion flowing between them like an electric current. Then Sarah rushed forward. He caught her easily. Stockings and underwear dropped unnoticed to the floor as she wrapped her arms around him and buried her face against his neck. She smiled. He still smelled of pine.
'Jareth,' she breathed, 'take me home. I want to go home.'
He lifted his head from where it's been resting against her dark hair. With one long finger, he forced her chin up so he could look into her eyes. They were like glistening green pools. He felt himself falter. Would she still love him when she discovered what he'd known and kept from her? But he had to tell her. It was the only way to set her free. It was the only way to protect her.
'Sarah,' he said, his voice husky, 'there's something I need to tell you.'
Her hand covered his mouth. 'Don't say anything. Just take me home.'
He pulled her hand away from his mouth. 'Sarah, I'm serious.'
'So am I.' When he continued to look at her in that grave manner, she said. 'Whatever you have to tell me can wait until we're home.'
He hesitated for a moment and then stooped, swinging her up into his arms. The bedroom in her father's house faded, receding like a wave upon the beach as their bedchamber in the Goblin Castle came into view, enclosing them within its familiar shadows. He placed her on the bed and then sat down beside her. His hand reached out, pushing back a lock of dark hair that had fallen across her face. She was surprised at how incredibly sad he looked.
'Sarah…'
'Shh,' she murmured, her hands reaching for him, pulling him down, 'tell me later.'
'Sarah, this is important.'
She rolled him unto his back and then leaned up on an elbow to look down at him. 'So is this.' She stroked a hand through his pale hair. It was still short. Whatever he'd been doing during their time apart, it hadn't involved growing his hair. 'I missed you, Jareth. Nothing made sense when we were apart. I never want to leave you again. Don't let me leave you.'
'Oh, you precious thing…' he breathed.
Telling her the truth didn't seem quite so urgent just then.
'Hold me. Love me.' Her voice caught. 'I need you so desperately.'
His resolve shattered. Thrusting his fingers into her hair, he pulled her down to him. Their lips met, lingered and met again. Passion flared, white hot and furious. Later, he thought, rolling her onto her back, much later.
