I

Chapter 41

When the alarm went off the next morning, Sarah was up, showered and dressed in record time. She was thrilled that she was finally going to get a teacher who shared her own enthusiasm for learning. She found Jareth in his study with their usual breakfast tray. He looked exhausted. He kissed her good morning. Well this is new, Sarah thought to herself, and then he seated her.

"So," Sarah began, "any progress?"

"No," Jareth sighed. "Erlinwold sent a representative, some minister of something—a government toady so completely gullible he was able to testify under a truth spell that the Troll Kingdom is not building up their army for war. That is, of course, what the High Fae Council wanted to hear, so they have no plans to do anything."

"What about your allies?" Sarah queried softly.

"Most are too afraid of the army Erlinwold has amassed to declare their support. Only the Summer Kingdom and the Gnome Kingdom will stand with us."

"Well, that's something I guess," Sarah tried to sound optimistic.

Jareth shook his head. "The Summer Kingdom lies far to the south. With peaceful neighbors and being largely agricultural and of little strategic or political value, they have no need for a competent standing army. Their military is, at best, a joke."

"What about the gnomes?" Sarah asked.

"Vicious fighters," Jareth nodded approvingly, "but hardly a match for a troll warrior. No, the gnomes will be slaughtered if they enter this battle. I'm not going to sugar coat this, Sarah. For all intents and purposes, the Goblin Kingdom stands alone."

Sarah looked at her half-eaten pastry as her stomach knotted up.

"What now?" she whispered.

"We wait," he replied, "and prepare the best we can."

When Sarah stepped through the mirror later that morning at Ana's cottage, it was to find a well prepared teacher. There were at least a dozen books covering her kitchen table. She also had a separate chalkboard set up along with notepads, pens and some items that Sarah couldn't name. Off to the corner, sat a tea cart with a covered tray. Ana smiled as she asked Sarah where she wanted to begin.

That same question had been digging at Sarah for the last several days, and she had an answer prepared. Sarah looked quickly through the books, pushed them all away and produced her own copy of An Introduction to the Politics of the Thirteen Kingdoms from her book bag. Sarah looked at Ana candidly. "I need to skip all the non-essential stuff for now, no math, no science, no language arts. I need a crash course in useful subjects, politics, economics, and government. I don't know if Jareth told you…," Sarah trailed off, unsure of how much she should say.

Ana smiled grimly. "I know," she said at last. At Sarah's startled look, she replied, "No, Jareth hasn't told me anything. Mykah is a captain in the local militia. They've started calling drills almost every night…Jareth's orders. The town merchants who deal with traders to the north are relating tales that the trolls are building an unstoppable war machine, twenty thousand strong. They say the traders whisper that they have never seen anything to compare. There is a general dread in the air, and there are rumors of government stockpiling. War is coming, and we're all caught in the middle," she sighed. "So," she said at last, putting on what Sarah would call a brave game face as she indicated the books, "where do you want to start?"

After they finished up for the first part of the morning Ana called a break and poured tea. She eyed Sarah curiously. "Jareth said he told you, about his past. How are you taking things?"

Sarah shrugged. "Well enough, I suppose. I was surprised, and yet, not really. You had told me enough that I could sense that there was a tragedy there. I had no idea…" Sarah trailed off uncomfortably.

"It was a different time," Ana confirmed. Life was harsher, more cruel. Children grew up quickly and were not sheltered from the tragedy that was life. Looking back, from what Brigid has told me, it's a wonder that she and Jareth were able to stay sane. At least I was too young to remember the way our mother was beaten, used and discarded and all because of an archaic notion that she was somehow worthless because she had been victimized by a spoiled Fae lord who had neither compassion nor decency. To see our mother treated like garbage again and again and be helpless to stop it..." She shrugged, unable to go on. She composed herself as Sarah sat awkwardly, not knowing how to comfort the other woman. "I hope you didn't judge Jareth too harshly for what he did."

Sarah paused for a long minute. "I thought about it and decided that I didn't have the right to judge him at all. I don't know if you've read any literature from Above, but my favorite novel, that isn't in the magical fantasy genre, is To Kill a Mockingbird. There's a famous line in the book about not being able to appropriately judge someone until you put on his shoes and walk around for a while, you know, live his life. If I'd been Jareth, well…I don't know. I might have done the same or wanted to if I knew how to fight. I thought I had it so awful, you know—my mom abandoned me, my dad started a new family and suddenly I wasn't that important anymore. I felt like a built-in babysitter. I saw everything I didn't have and none of what I did have. I had a safe, comfortable place to live; I knew where my next meal was coming from; I had medical care when I was sick, clothes to wear, educational opportunities, parents who really did care about me. Let's face it, I felt so put upon, but I didn't know what real hardship was. In a lot of ways, I've learned more about life in the past few weeks than I had in my whole life Above."

"Hmmmm," said Ana contemplatively. "So what's your current plan?"

"Well, I'm just gonna learn as much as I can right now, try to be somewhat useful in all of this and wait. The High Fae Council still hasn't made a decision, and Jareth thinks that's a good thing—that the more time that passes, they'll just treat our marriage like a fait accompli. In the meantime, I'm technically the Goblin Queen, although I haven't had a coronation or signed one of those oaths like Jareth has. So, I guess I'm like, on probation." She shrugged, uncertain.

"Don't you still want to go home?"

"Less and less every day," Sarah admitted. "The castle goblins grow on you after a while; they're very sweet and incredibly loyal, even if they do get on my last nerve sometimes. I have friends here," and she smiled at Ana, letting her know that she was included in that category. "And Jareth thinks I can be a good queen with some time, and I'm starting to actually believe him."

Ana smiled. "So he's not the monster you thought he was, is he?"

"No," Sarah replied quickly. "No, he's not. It's …. complicated," Sarah said finally.

"Knowing my brother, I'm sure it is," she laughed. "Now for tomorrow, I want you to read…."

By the time 1:30 rolled around, Sarah had been put through the wringer. Ana was a skilled but demanding teacher. Sarah stepped through the mirror with more homework than she had ever had under Professor Quintus.

Jareth spent the afternoon showing her how to channel her magic directly into an energy bolt, as she had inadvertently done to poor Sprog the first time she had accessed her magic. Skipping the step of forging an energy ball saved valuable time. The magic was less versatile, but more immediate. Jareth was quite pleased with her progress and turned her over to Athienne's tutelage.

The next days fell into a similar routine: breakfast, academic work, late lunch, magic lessons, healing lessons, homework, and a late dinner. Their after dinner dances now were usually quick, if at all, and very few games were played. A general, pervasive exhaustion and lack of sleep were Sarah's constant companions, and even so, she felt guilty knowing that Jareth worked even harder, going to bed long after she did and rising before dawn each morning.

Her twenty-eighth day in the Underground came at last and was marked by the castle staff baking a cake for her. They served it after dinner with a little ceremony. Athienne conducted a brief examination and pronounced Sarah to be fully transitioned. Sarah didn't feel any different, but she hoped the frequent hunger pangs would stop now. She was also looking forward to the lighter and relatively mild menstrual cycles that Fae women enjoyed. All in all, the whole transition had been fairly uneventful. That evening Jareth made love to her and then promised to take her Above the following day, which was a Sunday. Sarah settled in, content with her life.

Chapter 42

The visit with her family went….okay. Toby was overjoyed to see her, but both Karen and her father found the Fae eyebrows a little disconcerting as well as Jareth's obvious use of magic. Sarah's more minor demonstrations of magic enthralled Toby, but he was the only one impressed. Robert looked a little fearful, and Karen looked positively ill. Karen spent most of the visit nervously looking around for goblins, having not forgotten the destruction the wee little beasts had wreaked on her home and person. Sarah focused her attention on Toby, reading him three stories and playing teddy bears with him. She also chased him around the backyard twice as he squealed and fell down every dozen or so steps. A judicious application of magic let him land gently each time. At one point, Jareth removed his gloves and tousled Toby's hair, giving Sarah a small shake of his head afterward that went unnoticed by both Robert and Karen. So, he didn't remember. Thank God for small favors, Sarah thought. When Toby tired, Sarah insisted on being the one to tuck him into bed for a nap and sing to him until he fell asleep.

Knowing that Jareth was anxious to return to the Goblin Kingdom, Sarah said her goodbyes and asked about visiting again the following weekend. Surprisingly, it was Karen who was the more receptive of the two. Having heard Sarah apologize again and seeing a demonstration of how she now treated Toby, and his obvious adoration of his sister, swayed her to offer a hesitant second chance. Sarah enthusiastically hugged both of her parents, and Jareth transported them across dimensions into the Underground.

As Jareth returned them to the throne room, Meep hurried forward. "Sire, your special messengers have sent a report. You know who needs to speak with you."

Sarah was about to turn away, when she surmised what 'special messengers' could mean. She looked at Jareth, hope dawning in her eyes. "Is that…?"

"Perhaps," he said cutting her off with a sharp look. Leaning down he whispered, "Be careful. I have spies throughout many of the other kingdoms, and I don't doubt that there may be a few in this castle. Wait for me to cast a privacy charm."

She nodded, as he led her out of the throne room, calling to Meep, "Have Wego bring the carriage. It's a fine day, and I promised Sarah a ride through the countryside."

"As you command, Sire," replied Meep.

Jareth led Sarah out to the courtyard, and in a moment, Wego had brought the carriage around. He dutifully held open the door as Sarah and Jareth seated themselves in the open conveyance. With a jaunty leap, he jumped onto the driver's seat and urged the team forward. They began to move quickly, and as they cleared the castle, Jareth conjured a clear crystal bubble around the entire carriage.

"What news, Wego?" asked Jareth.

"My nephew sends his regards, Sire. He met with your two messengers yesterday morning. Both have settled into their cover stories well and have been running black market goods for several of the soldiers and even a few of the lower ranking officers in the troll army. The news is not good. Erlinwold has delayed his timeline. He has commissioned the construction of several magical catapults capable of breaching the labyrinths walls. The trolls the messengers spoke with did not know who the sorcerers are who are providing the magic, only that the new catapults will be ready in approximately five weeks. Erlinwold has given orders that all battalions must be ready to break base camp as soon as the catapults are delivered."

Jareth swore softly as he learned that a timeline had been finalized. "The catapults will be slow moving and difficult to transport. They will be vulnerable as soon as they reach open ground. We may be able to destroy them before they reach the Goblin Kingdom. Anything else?"

"No, Sire, just rumors that Erlinwold has made some enemies among his own people. The rumors are unconfirmed, but it may be that Denneth, Erlinwar's youngest son, has organized a group of rebels and they are working against Erlinwold. The messengers are trying to get more information."

Jareth nodded.

"Jareth," Sarah whispered, "are the messengers Hoggle and Sir Didymus?"

"Yes," he confirmed.

She pressed her lips together tightly with worry before asking hesitantly, "Wego, are the messengers well?"

"Oh yes, my Queen. According to my nephew, they are quite cunning little creatures and not only are they learning valuable information, they are making money hand over fist. The dwarf knows jewels like no smuggler ever and the little one, well, everyone thinks he's crazy. No one will cross him."

Jareth grinned and even Sarah smiled, a lodestone falling off her chest. She leaned back in the seat next to Jareth and watched the beautiful countryside roll by.

Chapter 43

In hindsight, she should have known that the grueling pace they were both setting between work, lack of sleep, and the anxiety of the coming war would lead to an eventual explosion. The day began innocuously enough a few days after her visit Above. They were having a rushed breakfast in the dining hall, as every square inch of every flat surface in Jareth's study was covered with reports, maps, and other war preparations.

"Sarah, I wanted to tell you that I am quite pleased with your progress. You are truly becoming the Goblin Queen. I am certain that soon you will come to love me," he said blandly, as if discussing the weather.

Sarah was never quite certain what it was. Perhaps it was the disinterested tone of voice; or perhaps it was because he just took her feelings for granted; or perhaps it was because he was right and her feelings had begun to morph into something resembling love. Whatever it was sent her temper spiraling out of control.

"No," she screamed, standing so quickly her chair overturned. "I will never love you, someone who steals helpless children. Never," she denied emphatically, turning to storm out of the dining hall but finding the hall doorway sealed shut with magic.

"Meep," Jareth called, his voice low, deadly ice, "clear Sarah's schedule for the day. She will be accompanying me on my rounds." Meep dashed through the connecting door to the kitchen, as Sarah turned from the locked hall doorway to confront Jareth, who was no longer simply Jareth but the Goblin King, cold mask of fury on his face and dressed in his midnight black armor. "So, you dare assume you know something of what I do," he hissed coldly. "Dress, Goblin Queen and do not defy me. You have ten minutes," the anger in his voice was palpable as the doors unsealed and he vanished in a shower of glitter.

Sarah climbed the stairs slowly, her thoughts spinning. What had just happened? Dress? She was dressed. She was wearing the amethyst colored dress with the dove gray slippers. What was wrong with it? Wait, he had called her Goblin Queen, not Sarah. He must want her to put on that black monstrosity, the one that made her look like The Evil Bitch Queen From Hell. She took it out of the closet as she debated. On the one hand, a part of her, the reckless defiant part, wanted very much to defy Jareth, high handed, arrogant, demanding, son of a… On the other, the more cautious and logical part of her pointed out that her reaction had been way over the top, escalating this into a fight in the first place; perhaps it would be better to pick her battles. In the end, simple curiosity won out; she wanted to see what he had planned. It was strangely odd, but as angry as he was, she wasn't afraid of him.

She changed quickly, tugged on the boots, but didn't have time to do her hair. The simple braid down her left shoulder would have to do. She had just opened the box on her vanity, the one holding the diadem, when Jareth strode into the room. He took the box from her and placed the diadem on her forehead as he had done before. Despite his anger, his hands were gentle, and Sarah was certain her trust wasn't misplaced. He then stepped back and crossed his arms, staring at her hard.

"What now?" exasperation evident in her voice.

"Where are your gloves, Sarah?"

"I have no idea. I just can't get used to them."

"You will need them today. Find them."

Sarah sighed, turning to go look in the closet, when Jareth grabbed her arm. "Hold out your hands and summon them. Control your emotions and use your magic."

Sarah let out a deep breath, clearing her mind, picturing her gloves, reached out to her magic and "pulled" the gloves to herself.

"Very good," Jareth said in a more even, less angry tone.

"Where are we going?" she asked as she ignored the compliment, determined to hold onto her anger.

He frowned at the snub. "Our first stop is a nearby farm. Then we are going Above," he said as he gathered her to him, and they vanished from sight.

They reappeared on a farm, which wasn't a huge surprise given that Jareth had just told her their destination. It seemed a neat and tidy little farm. The chickens were free range and well fed. The buildings were painted and in good repair. The crops in the distance looked healthy enough. Sarah, herself, was a city girl, and except for a few school field trips when she was a kid to various dairy farms and petting zoos, she had no actual farm experience at all. Just then the side door of the farmhouse opened and two boys about six and nine years of age raced down toward Sarah and Jareth.

"David, Marcus," Jareth greeted the boys. "Please entertain the Goblin Queen for a bit. I need to speak to your parents." Jareth excused himself and headed for the door the boys had just exited.

"Come on," said the younger one excitedly as he held out his hand. "We got puppies. Come see."

"Are you Marcus or David?" Sarah asked as she gave him her hand.

"I'm Marcus. David's three years older n' me," he said as he tugged Sarah toward the barn.

She followed dutifully along. When they got to the barn, the boys showed her a large hay filled crate with a very small fawn colored dog in it. The dog looked tired but content; Sarah could have sworn it was a Chihuahua but wasn't certain if they had such things here. Two tiny fawn puppies with black markings that looked to be about the size of gerbils were tottering around, taking their first steps. Correction, three puppies. The third lay off to the corner, smaller than the others, black with a white chest, the runt. Sarah felt immediately sorry for it. "Can I pet that one?" she asked, remembering that when they had picked out Merlin from the rescue that reaching in and touching a dog or a puppy had been strongly discouraged.

"Sure," said Marcus. "Lola is a little touchy about who she lets touch her puppies, but she'll let me and David handle 'em," he said proudly, as he reached in and gently picked up the little runt. He handed it to Sarah, who took it and held it tightly to her chest, terrified she'd drop the tiny thing it was shaking so hard. Gradually both the puppy and Sarah relaxed, and it was soon snuggled into her neck fast asleep.

"Wow," said David, "she likes you. I don't suppose you want a puppy?" he asked hopefully. "Nobody else wants her; she's real shy and kinda sickly, like I was when I first came here," he said.

"She doesn't wanna hear about that," Marcus said dismissively.

"No, really I do," Sarah said, beginning to suspect that this was precisely the reason Jareth had brought her here. "Were you wished aways?" she asked. Oh that sneaky Fae bastard…

"Uh hunh," said Marcus. "Our real mother was kinda mean to us. Show her yer arms, David. Mine's healed but David wanted to keep his. Not sure why."

David hung his head a bit and slid his shirt sleeve up to reveal his forearm covered with what looked like a myriad of small puckered pink and white scars. "Cigarette burns," he muttered, "punishment for when I was bad, when we were bad," he amended as he looked at his brother.

Sarah stifled a gasp as she struggled for something to say. She looked at David and then turned to look at Marcus too. "I've known bad children, and I can tell you are not bad children," she said at last.

"That's what King Jareth said when he brought us here," Marcus exclaimed happily. "We like it here. There's plenty to eat, and we have clean clothes, and nobody hurts us. We got a new mama and papa, and they love us n' take care of us. And now we have Lola. She's the best dog ever. King Jareth brought her for us; she was wished away like us from someplace called a puppy mill. It was a big surprise when she turned out to have puppies in her." He laughed. "Now, we just gotta find homes for the puppies. You sure you don't want that one?"

Sarah pulled the little black puppy from her neck and regarded it silently, trying to find the words to explain that real dogs were Merlin's size, that this wasn't her idea of a dog, but as she looked into huge almond shaped brown eyes, she couldn't do it. As the words "Sure, I'll take her," tumbled out of her mouth, she wondered what she had just gotten herself into.

"She isn't completely weaned yet, but we'll let ya know when ya can have her," David said as he held out his hands for the puppy. Sarah reluctantly handed her over.

"That means she still drinks milk from her mama," Marcus said authoritatively and nodded to Sarah. She suppressed a grin and nodded back.

Sarah heard Jareth's voice then, thanking someone, and she and the boys exited the barn.

"Papa," yelled Marcus. "We did it. We got a home for the little black one."

The Fae man was joined on the porch in a moment by his wife, and they hugged Marcus. Sarah heard them congratulating him, telling them that they knew the boys could do it. They held their arms open for David too, but he remained standing by the fence, a look of uncertainty on his face. This confirmed what Sarah had suspected; the older boy was having a more difficult transition. Her heart went out to him then, and she was determined to figure out something to help.

Jareth arched an eyebrow. Sarah shrugged.

"The Queen wants the little black one," Marcus crowed. "Isn't it great?"

"Spectacular," Jareth commented dryly. "The Queen is going to be cleaning up a lot of messes," he continued in a voice that made it very clear that this dog was solely her problem.

Sarah shrugged again. She'd housebroken Merlin. How much trouble could a little Chihuahua be? At least the messes would be tiny.

Sarah waved goodbye, as she and Jareth prepared to go Above. "Precious," he whispered, "do try not to pick up any more strays."

They re-appeared in hell.

Chapter 44

"Where are we?" Sarah whispered.

Jareth cocked his head slightly for a moment, as if in deep thought. "Detroit, Michigan, U.S.A.," he replied with a brief shrug.

Sarah had seen pictures on television of slum neighborhoods, and she guessed that was where they were now. It was even worse on the inside. It was fall, and the weather was turning quite cold. Whether the furnace worked or not, Sarah was uncertain. It was freezing in the small house and it stank to high heaven of rotten food and waste; given the stench, it was probably best that it was cold. Sarah suspected that was the only thing making it remotely possible not to gag.

Roaches crawled over every surface, unafraid. The table, the sink, and even the floor were piled with dirty dishes. A partially full bowl of what looked like it had once been oatmeal was growing a healthy colony of maggots. Sarah turned away sickened. But everywhere she looked, trash and filthy laundry lay scattered, and animal waste lay crusted in the dirty carpeting, although there were no pets to be seen. Sarah wondered if they had run away. She fervently hoped they had.

The cupboards were open in several places. There was no food, and a greenish-yellow trickle ran out of the refrigerator, pooling on the old linoleum. In a playpen in the corner were two small children, one perhaps two years old, the other a little younger than Toby. They were naked except for diapers, skinny, cold and dirty; they had a hollowed out look of desperation to them, too tired and despondent to even cry anymore.

In the corner amongst the filth, sat a thin woman wearing a dirty, long sleeved t-shirt and jeans. Her hair hadn't been combed in days, and she rocked back and forth steadily, murmuring to herself. Sarah recalled that she had eaten nothing that morning and was very glad of it right now.

"Stay here," Jareth instructed as he stepped forward and began to speak, the seductive tones of the Goblin King coaxing the woman to give up the children for her dreams. She stared at him, glassy-eyed and desperate as he reminded her that she had wished away her children. He held out the crystal, and she didn't hesitate, snatching it out of his gloved hand so quickly her movements were a blur. Jareth watched her for a moment, but she had made her choice. She would not be running the labyrinth. He approached the children then. Conjuring a crystal, which turned into an overflowing diaper bag, Sarah watched shocked as the big, bad Goblin King changed dirty diapers and gave the children a quick wash with aloe wipes.

"Stay here," he repeated. "I'll be right back." With a child cradled in each arm, Jareth vanished.

Sarah turned her attention back to the woman who was gazing rapturously into the crystal, which suddenly shattered into glittering powder that became dozens of baggies that tumbled to the floor. Sarah watched curiously as the woman fumbled with a lighter as she produced a dirty looking pipe from the pocket of her cut off jeans. Picking up one of the baggies, Sarah saw that it contained three small gray pebbles, two of them about the size of tic-tacs, one a little smaller. They were an ugly shade of light gray and kind of greasy looking. Sarah looked confused. The woman had traded her children for this? Her attention was diverted in that moment as she heard a loud popping noise. Sarah turned back to the woman and saw her with her hands cupped tightly around the lit pipe, holding it such that her flesh burned, but she neither noticed nor cared. Her glassy expression was now replaced with a rapturous, dreamy, unfocused stare. She never noticed that her children were gone.

Sarah stared in horror as the scene played out in front of her eyes. The Goblin King returned at that moment, and Sarah turned her gaze to him. "Crack cocaine," he said at last as he took the small baggie from her hand. "She was in withdrawal when we arrived." He shrugged carelessly and tossed the baggie to the floor.

Sarah was shocked and not a little horrified. "So what, you're her dealer now? Except instead of cash you take the children as payment?"

Jareth's temper flared, as it had that morning. "The wisher determines the dream, not I. The crystal gives the wisher what he or she most wants. Had she wanted help that would have been provided. Instead, she chose this," he said as he picked up and shook a handful of the numerous packets that lay scattered on the filthy floor, forcing Sarah's attention from his face to the items in his hand. He flung them carelessly back down.

"Come, Sarah," he gestured to her, anxious to be off.

Sarah didn't move. "We have to help her," she insisted.

Jareth turned and looked at the pathetic creature with her matted hair spread out on the dirty carpet, a look of inhuman joy spread across her features. He felt a stab of pity and ruthlessly crushed it.

If Sarah would not come to him… He sighed and walked to her, grasping her shoulders and turning her so that she no longer saw the wretched woman on the floor. As Sarah faced him, he steadied himself for this lesson. She had to learn or she would be destroyed, consumed utterly by her role as the Goblin Queen. "You cannot help her. There is nothing that you can do that would be of any help to her," Jareth insisted.

Sarah looked at the sheer quantity of various drugs lying around. Most were little baggies of crack cocaine, but there were pills too, and even some needles and a few other assorted items Sarah could not name. "She could OD and die," Sarah cried.

Jareth shrugged. If she died then she died. "Sarah," he said as he pinned her with a hard look. She must understand. Her very survival depended upon this. "You mustn't interfere. I know. Trust me, I know. I've tried." He sighed then. "You cannot help those who do not want help."

"You don't know that she doesn't want help," Sarah insisted as tears gathered in her eyes.

"Yes, I do," he said flatly, voice hard. "Had she wanted help, the crystal would have given it to her. Instead, she chose this," he repeated harshly, as he kicked at a small pile of drug paraphernalia with the toe of his boot. As reluctant comprehension of the truth finally dawned in her eyes, he enfolded Sarah in his arms, and they vanished.

Sarah watched in numb shock as this scene played itself out twice more, once in Los Angeles and once in Indianapolis. One woman hesitated briefly, and Sarah thought she might choose the labyrinth, but once she looked into the crystal, she, too, chose her dreams, chose the drugs over her children.

Chapter 45

Sarah was prepared for it this time, but instead of a home, they landed in what seemed to be a warehouse, a warehouse of children.

"Where are we?" Sarah asked as she gazed at row upon row of children in cribs, children lying neglected, forgotten, too many for the too few staff that appeared to be going through the motions of providing care for them.

"Welcome to Glasnost, Sarah," Jareth replied. "This is an orphanage, Ukraine, USSR."

"These people aren't screaming," she said, "and I doubt they're drug addicts used to hallucinations." She looked at Jareth.

"They cannot see us. We will be visible only when I make contact with the wisher and take the child."

"Did we come for them all?" she whispered in awe. "There must be fifty kids here."

"No, just that one," he said as he indicated a dark haired child with luminous green eyes, bright with fever. She looked like she was about two, but Sarah had the feeling that she was much older. She said as much.

"She is," Jareth said as he looked at her. "She's closer to five actually. It's a combination of malnutrition and lack of exercise. Many of these children will be passed off as much younger and healthier than they really are when they are adopted, in other words sold, to foreign parents who are desperate for a child."

"That's horrible." Sarah was outraged.

"It's the way of the world, Sarah. Children are increasingly becoming a commodity to be bought and sold on the black market. This one was just wished away by her caregiver. See that young woman over there," he pointed to a girl in her late teens or early twenties with blonde hair who was changing a diaper a few rows over. "She is young enough, not yet too jaded to care anymore. She wished this one away because she knows this child will never be adopted and will likely die here soon. Between the poor nutrition, the lack of care, and the close living conditions, illness and disease are rampant. Those not adopted relatively quickly will not be adopted at all."

Sarah looked closer at the child. She looked terribly ill. A greenish discharge leaked from the corners of her eyes and dribbled down her nose. A harsh rattling sound escaped her mouth with each breath. Her skin was blotchy, but more than that, her features weren't right somehow. Her face was broader and flatter than it should have been, eyes just a bit too far apart, nose slightly flattened. Sarah's magic whispered of a deep wrongness.

"What's wrong with her?"

Jareth passed an ungloved hand across her forehead gently. "Severe upper respiratory infection that has also spread to her sinuses. It will be pneumonia very soon."

"No, I mean…," Sarah hesitated, unsure how to explain the wrongness she had perceived.

"Ahhh," said Jareth, "so you see it, or do you feel it with your magic?"

"Both," said Sarah, as she reached out again with her magic. She was beginning to rely more and more on her magic. It was like having an extra sense in addition to the usual five.

"She has fetal alcohol syndrome. Her mother drank heavily during gestation, which seriously affected the child's brain development. This is why no one wants her. Many of the other children are also affected, but it is not so obvious, and so hope remains to sell them to an adoptive couple."

Sarah turned away, sickened at the mercenary thought of selling a child like groceries.

"Ahhh good," Jareth murmured. "Our wisher is taking a lunch break. We will be able to speak to her alone." The girl grabbed lunch from a refrigerator old enough to belong in a museum and after she put on a somewhat threadbare coat, she headed outside. She sat down on a concrete parking block and took several long, ragged breaths to clear the stench of human waste and sickness from her lungs, her breath misting in the cold air. She then began to eat a small, somewhat soggy looking sandwich. It was then that Jareth cast a privacy crystal and appeared to her in a shower of black and silver glitter with Sarah at his side.

"Goblin King," she gasped, "and Queen," she amended, and Sarah was amazed. The young woman was, presumably, speaking Russian but Sarah understood her as clearly as if she had spoken Midwestern English.

"We've come for the child," he said, gesturing and including Sarah.

"Will she be loved and cared for?" the young woman asked. Sarah saw the fear in her eyes then, but overlaying all of that was the concern. She needed assurances.

Sarah stepped forward then, sat next to the woman and put her arm around her. She explained how the child would be healed and go to a family eager to adopt where she would be cherished. The young woman smiled and dabbed her eyes.

"I'll get her," she said eagerly, as she jumped up and rushed back into the building.

Jareth crossed his arms and eyed Sarah speculatively. "You seem to be developing a knack for this, Goblin Queen. Not quite what you thought it was, is it?" he asked archly.

Sarah looked away, swallowing hard.

But Jareth continued. "Well loved children are seldom wished away. Occasionally a spoiled sibling will thoughtlessly wish away a baby brother or sister, but it's a rare occurrence," he said as he drove the point home hard.

Sarah supposed she had that coming and said nothing.

"Just so you know, and we are very clear on this point, I take only wished away children where there is true, sincere intent behind the wish. I have never, ever," he stated emphatically, "stolen a child. I cannot. The binding magical oath I took as Goblin King prevents it."

Sarah stared hard at the buckles on her left boot, deeply ashamed of her previous accusation made in ignorance. That coupled with the realization that wishing away Toby was not about the right words but that she had truly despised him and wanted him gone when she uttered those words, that horrible wish, drove a hard spike of guilt and shame directly into her heart. She needed to apologize, but now was not the time.

Just then the young blonde woman reappeared holding the child in her arms. Jareth took her gently.

"I will return in a moment. Stay in the crystal," he instructed Sarah as he vanished.

"My name's Irena," the blonde said.

"Sarah."

"Pleased to meet you," said Irena.

"So," said Sarah, "why do you do this?"

"It pays the bills," Irena said with a small shrug. "And in this economy, I'm very lucky to have a job. I hope someday to go to America. We see such wonders on television, a college education, opportunities…" Her voice grew dreamy and wistful. Sarah had already been planning for college when Jareth had claimed her. Again, she was struck by how very fortunate she had been in life, in her family.

Jareth returned then, crystal in hand, as he offered Irena her dreams.

"Take it," Sarah urged.

"My dreams…," Irena hesitated. She reached for the crystal, her hand hovering over Jareth's for a moment, before she took his gloved fingers and pressed his hand closed around the crystal. "The others," she whispered pleadingly, "can you take them instead?"

"You can only wish away those children in your control. You must be their rightful caretaker."

She looked defeated for a moment, but then inspiration struck. "But I am," she exclaimed. "We are all in charge of all of the children. We divvy up the work amongst ourselves, but I am the rightful caretaker of all of the children until 5:00 p.m., when I go off shift. Is that good enough?" she asked, hope in her eyes.

Sarah looked at Jareth, as she remembered Ana's words about the Goblin King having some leeway in the interpretation of his duties. He nodded finally and said "Yes, but you must make the wish."

She did so quickly, a breathless hope in her voice.

It was a simple matter to cast a sleep spell on the occupants of the orphanage. With Irena's help and reinforcements of the goblin variety, the orphanage was cleared out in less than an hour. Jareth's last stop was the office, where a magical paper trail now existed showing that the orphans had all been adopted out to loving families.

This time when Jareth held out her dreams Irena took it. She gazed into the crystal and gasped. "A scholarship," she announced in a breathy whisper. "I'm going to America."

"Go home and pack your things quickly. I believe events are already in motion," Jareth instructed.

She nodded. "Thank you," she cried, as she ran toward the bus stop down the street.

"We have two more stops to make," Jareth said evenly. "You will now see the fates of some of the children who are not fortunate enough to be wished away."

Chapter 46

This time they reappeared on a dusty road near a small, primitive looking village. Sarah surmised that they were somewhere in Africa, but she wasn't certain exactly where. "Where are we this time?" she asked.

"Does it really matter?" Jareth countered.

She supposed not. As she watched, people surged, turning into a frightened, angry mob in front of her eyes. At the center of the fracas seemed to be a small child, perhaps four or five years old. Sarah watched as what in any other situation she would assume to be rational, reasonable adults went completely insane. Screaming "Witch Child," they threw rocks and sticks, driving the child from the village; he fell, screaming, and the mob was upon him. Sarah tried to run forward but could not move, an unyielding magical barrier she could not penetrate appeared before her. "Let me through!" she screamed at Jareth, but it was too late. Satisfied with the dispensation of justice, the mob began to disperse, leaving the child's broken body at the side of the road. No one claimed him. No one wept for him. Sarah turned away, beyond sickened.

"Why?" Sarah whispered. "Why didn't you take him?"

"He was not a wished away or a runner in the labyrinth. I have no power over him nor do you, which is why you could not reach him," Jareth said sadly.

She stared at the ground brokenly, unable to look at either Jareth or the child. "Take me home," she whispered.

"Soon," he replied. "Just one more stop."

Cold. With the Fae transition, Sarah noticed that she didn't feel temperature extremes as much as she had when she was human. But this place was cold and the air was thinner. A steady wind blew hard and biting, leaving an arid chill in the bones. Wherever they were, snow was still on the ground, not a lot, but it wasn't melting anytime soon either. As she stood on the top of a steep hill, Sarah had an excellent view of the valley. It was dotted with small farms and little homesteads that weren't much more than shacks. The fields lay untended in the cold as tiny curls of smoke rose from the chimneys and gradually lost cohesion to be blown away in the unrelenting wind. Sarah thought about asking Jareth where they were, but decided it didn't really matter after all. As she watched, a couple struggled up the side of the hill carrying a burden. As they came closer, Sarah saw that the bundle was clutched to the woman's breast as if it were a child. When they reached the summit, the woman hesitated. Then the man spoke.

"It is a girl," he said forcefully. "She will be no help to us in our old age. We must think of the future," he insisted. Still she hesitated, and he took the bundle from her and laid it on the ground, his gentleness belying his harsh words. Sarah could see now; it was a baby girl, shivering in the bundle of rags, not more than a few days old at most.

The woman tried to speak, but the man shook his head. "There is no more to say," he said tiredly, as he gestured to the woman to follow him. She hesitated for a long minute but at last turned her back and began to follow her husband down the hill leaving the cold, whimpering child behind.

"We're in rural China, aren't we? The one child policy…," she said blankly, unable to take her eyes from the small bundle of rags.

"Yes," he agreed.

"Will they come back for her?" Sarah whispered as she watched them trudge slowly back to their homestead.

He turned slightly, peering into the future. "No," he said finally.

"Ana says the Goblin King's duties are open to interpretation. Save her, Jareth, please," Sarah begged.

"I cannot. She has not been wished away in any sense of the word. My oath binds me." Here he stressed the word 'me' carefully. Sarah stared at him, confused. "I have no authority to act," he said as he stared at her intently.

"Are you saying I do?" Sarah asked hesitantly.

"Abandoned children are within the purview of the Goblin Queen. But be warned, Sarah. Once you step free of this crystal and claim that child, you will be claiming fully the role of the Goblin Queen. There is no going back from this. Do you understand?"

Sarah nodded. In retrospect, she was ashamed to admit that she didn't immediately rush forward as the full import of Jareth's words sank into her mind. Sarah hesitated a moment more and stepped forward, falling to her knees as she gathered the whimpering child to her. "Shhhhh….," she whispered, "you'll be warm and safe in just a minute." She tucked the child tightly to her chest, turned and walked back to Jareth who transported them directly to the castle nursery.

Sarah expected the place to be complete bedlam. Instead, fifty odd children slept soundly in cribs or on soft mattresses on the floor, clean and snug in their blankets. Athienne smiled when she saw them, moving forward to take the bundle from Sarah. She examined the child quickly, pronounced her healthy and handed her to Meep who happily popped a bottle into her mouth.

"What's wrong with them?" Sarah asked softly, afraid of waking the sleeping children.

"They are all in a deep, healing sleep," Athienne replied. "Most of them were in desperate need of a good meal and some real rest," she said on a deep sigh. "Their injuries have been healed, and they have been fed."

"What will happen to the children now?" she asked.

Jareth inhaled deeply. "They will be matched up with Fae families hoping to adopt, and when they awaken, they will be in their new homes. If they are under two, they will retain no memories of their prior lives. I would remove the memories of the older ones as well," he said, and Sarah saw that he was thinking of David and his uncertain transition into his Fae family. "But, it would remove their language skills and other basic knowledge of the world. To rob them of so much seems wrong," he said heavily.

She nodded. "I'm going to bed," she said finally, not waiting for acknowledgement as she walked quickly to the bedroom.

Chapter 47

"Too much, Jareth," said Athienne as she pinned the Goblin King with a hard stare. "She is in agony. Too much too soon."

"Sarah is strong," Jareth insisted.

"Which of us is the healer, Jareth? I'm telling you unequivocally that she is very near hysteria," Athienne said forcefully.

Jareth vacillated for a moment and finally followed Sarah up the stairs and into the bedroom. He found her in bed, staring at the wall as tears ran silently down her face.

"Sarah," he called. When no response was forthcoming, he again called her name and shook her slightly. She ignored him, trapped in the hell of her own thoughts as visions of a child being stoned to death replayed in her mind over and over.

He stepped into the hallway. "Athienne," he cried with urgency. When she arrived, he gestured helplessly to Sarah. She went to the young woman's side, passing her hand over Sarah's forehead gently, as she sent her into a deep, dreamless sleep.

She fixed Jareth with a hard stare as she rose from Sarah's side. "Hot headed young fool," she hissed. "You could have broken her mind. Do you realize that?" she berated him. Oh yes," she smiled grimly. "Meep told me what happened this morning." She shook her head angrily. "You know better than this. She is young and newly Fae in a situation largely beyond her control. To let her anger goad you into something this stupid…" she trailed off. "I called you young, but that is only by comparison. You are old enough…you've seen enough to know better than to do this to someone her age."

Jareth flinched under her harsh criticism. Under other circumstances, he would have asserted his authority as Goblin King, but he deserved this and more. "What do you want me to do?" he asked finally.

Athienne reached into her healer's bag and withdrew a small vial of liquid that looked remarkably like chocolate milk. "She'll wake in the wee small hours of the morning. Feed her and give her this. I'll be back in the morning with a Potion of Lethe. I'll take this day from her, the full 26 hours, and make certain that she doesn't remember it. But if you do this again, so help me Danu, I'll paddle you like one of my own great grandchildren."

Under other circumstances her threat would have made him laugh, but looking at Sarah, he couldn't find a thing funny about it. He nodded and took the potion; conjuring his favorite reading chair and a book, he settled in to keep watch over her, waiting patiently for her to awaken.

Sarah awoke slowly, her mouth and throat dry and cottony. How odd, she thought, the light was on. Jareth sat reading in his chair next to the bed. Why wasn't he asleep?

"Sarah," he said softly as he shut his book and sat on the edge of the bed. The look he gave her of quiet anguish was the same one he had given her when… Oh God, no, her mind cried out as she remembered, …the child, his broken little body bloody and torn. She pulled away then, the sobs coming as a soft keening wail tore out of her throat. No, No, No…how could they?

"Sarah," he cried out this time, as he tried to hold her, soothe her, comfort her. He decided this was an emergency, as he pushed calming magic directly into her mind. Rather than calm her, he felt a sharp, painful magical recoil hit his gut like a cattle prod as her emotions and her magic spiked and fought back like a rabid animal. Athienne had been right; she was past hysteria.

Very well then, if her mind refused to calm, he would bind her body before she could hurt herself or someone else. As Sarah felt the magical chains bind her tightly, she fought harder, screaming in inarticulate anguish, but there was no give this time, nothing but a tight cocoon of warmth. She dimly realized what the warmth was, and that was what penetrated her anguish at last. Jareth's emotions. Since magic was tied to a Fae's emotions, it made a certain rational sense. Jareth was expending a fair amount of magical energy to hold her down without hurting her. She reached out with her magic, sensing the energy that held her—fear, concern, guilt (oh yes, a substantial amount of guilt), but overriding all of it was the sense that she was cherished, maybe even loved by the Goblin King. She closed her eyes and let that seep into her aching psyche until she finally reached a point of equilibrium.

"Jareth," she whispered, "you can release me now. I'm okay," Sarah said calmly. The magical bindings didn't budge. She saw hesitation war with hope in his eyes. "I'm Fae now. You know I can't lie to you. I really am okay," she whispered softly. The bindings melted as if they had never existed, and she wasted no time in replacing the warm sense of his magic with his warm body as she wrapped her arms around him and sought the comfort of his embrace. He held her tightly; the silence only broken as he occasionally whispered "Sarah, oh Sarah."

Finally, she pushed away slightly to look at him. She looked at the vial clutched in his hand. "What's that?" she asked, hesitating slightly.

"I'm not completely sure," he replied. "Athienne wants you to eat and take this; it's supposed to let you sleep without dreams. She will be back in the morning to heal you."

"What do you mean, heal me? I'm not sick," Sarah said softly.

"She is going to take your memories of yesterday. She fears that your mind is broken, Sarah, and I am responsible for it. I'm so very sorry," he said with no small measure of guilt in his voice.

"No," Sarah said firmly.

"Yes, Sarah, I am responsible for this. I let your anger goad my own temper and defeat my better judgment. I showed you things you weren't ready to see."

"Is anyone ever really ready to see those things, Jareth?" Sarah countered, a note of resignation in her voice. "If they are, then there is already something wrong with them, and I mean deep down wrong like psycho wrong." She sighed. "Besides, I meant no, my memories will not be taken."

"Sarah," he cajoled softly.

"No," she repeated firmly. "You promised me Jareth. It's not an emergency. I had to struggle a little, but I will get there. I can deal with this," she said, determination tinging her words.

"Will you at least eat?" he asked. "I have a tray here for you."

"Okay, and I'll even drink that stuff," she said as she indicated the vial, "but you have to promise me that no one is going to take my memories."

"I…I can't Sarah. What if you're like…that…again tomorrow?" he said with anguish.

Fair enough, Sarah thought to herself. "So, what you're saying is that if I want to keep my mind intact, then I have to hold it together, right?"

Jareth hesitated. "Yes, I suppose that is what I'm saying. You didn't see yourself, Sarah. You were like a wild animal, no rational thought at all."

She nodded. "How do you deal with it? Surely yesterday isn't the worst you've seen in your time as Goblin King."

"No, no it isn't," he agreed. "I save the ones I can save. I try not to dwell on the ones I cannot save. I had a very rough adjustment when I first took on this role. It is difficult to turn away from people who need help, but needing help and being ready to accept help are two entirely different things. Early on, I was nearly insane with trying to be the Goblin King. To live this life, to do this job, is to accept pain and loss, to see despair and the cruelty that humans are capable of. But there is also joy. I try to enjoy my ridiculously long life, placing the wished aways in loving homes, singing and dancing with the goblins, games of skill and chance, helping my subjects lead full and happy lives, making love to my wife," he said with a small smile.

Sarah smiled back, not sure if she was blushing or not. "So, how do you suggest I start coming to terms with this part of being the Goblin Queen?"

"Well," he said, a false innocence creeping into his voice as he eyed her speculatively and smiled, "you do have an abandoned child that needs placing. Any ideas as to what you're going to do with her? Or do we now have another stray in addition to that Chihuahua?" His smile was an outright grin now.

"Their child will not be a wished away," Sarah whispered. "That's what you said…and you said I had something to do with it, when you saw a shadow of the future. This is Tannith and Jerra's baby, isn't it?" Sarah asked in awe as events seemed to be unfolding as the magic had foretold.

"Perhaps. Remember, abandoned children are the bailiwick of the Goblin Queen. She is yours to place. If your magic tells you this babe belongs to Tannith and Jerra, then it is so. If it tells you differently, then you will place her elsewhere. Listen to your magic, Sarah. What is it telling you? Where does this child belong?"

Sarah closed her eyes and felt for her magic, the connection so strong now that the Fae transition was complete. She thought of taking this little baby girl to Tannith and Jerra, handing her to them, seeing her grow up in the warm and radiant love that permeated their home. The rightness of it nearly overwhelmed her.

"Yes," she said, awe coloring her voice. "This baby belongs to Tannith and Jerra."

"We can take her tomorrow if you like," Jareth said. "Once you convince Athienne you are sane."

Sarah nodded and reached for the tray of food. She laughed as Jareth tried to steal her grapes. Sarah added master thief to the litany of skills her arrogant Fae husband possessed as all of her grapes disappeared. She chuckled as he conjured a bowl of mixed berries and proceeded to feed them to her by hand, until that game turned sensual, and she was too busy moaning to laugh anymore. Tired and sated, she fell asleep in her husband's embrace, not needing the vial of chocolate milk.