The spires of the Castle Beyond the Goblin City soared towards the sky of the Underground. The sky was currently a pleasant shade of greenish blue with a few white puffs drifting about lazily, reflecting the mood of its ruler. The castle overlooked the realm with tall towers and flying buttresses, and a rather prominent disregard for the laws of physics. It was a visible testament to the all-seeing presence of the mercurial king of the realm. He was currently seated on a window sill in the highest tower, letting the wild wind blow his black cape about and make a (bigger) mess of his platinum hair. Goblins in various sizes and shapes kept him company. In spite of the din of their games Jareth felt a subtle prickling sensation at the edge of his awareness.
He mentally investigated while sweeping a lazy glance over the Labyrinth. It was a curiously blue sensation that he had felt once or twice in the past. Not hostile, not intrusive, just sort of there, and minding its own business. A traveller's guide, not prone to interfering, and certainly not to create disorder. Or indeed, order in his perfectly orchestrated chaos. The King relaxed in his mind and smiled to himself. There was another presence, following the blue one, a human presence that he had expected to call upon himself for transportation. He'd never quite figure her out but he would allow her to have her way this time.
She was doing what he wanted, after all, even if she was taking liberties with the finer details of the plan.
If a writer had to pick three words to describe the Goblin City, they might be 'picturesque', 'chaotic', and 'bloody mess', except that would be four words. The smells of the place hit her nostrils with the subtlety of an anvil dropped from great height. Burning firewood and charcoal smoke rising from stoves and cooking fires to escape through the twisted chimneys before falling back down to create a backdrop for an olfactory assault composed from boiling beans, fur, sloshing mud, and only the gods would know what else. On the up side, Sarah mused, there was no smell of car emissions. She inhaled deeply and then looked around, taking in the sights with the eyes of an artist this time.
Limestone was the favoured building material, although there was the occasional half-timbered building. The angles of the houses were casual and disorderly, as if put together willy-nilly by drunken architects. The fact that they were still standing hinted that there had to be some underlying order to the chaos. Signs rattled outside some buildings. Literacy was not common to goblins as far as she knew but anyone could figure out the meaning of a drawing of a bunch of grapes and a cup, or a horseshoe and an anvil. There was straw in the gutter, mixed with sand, mud, road apples, and the occasional fruit peel. The fountain plaza was a busy thoroughfare and residents were coming and going, shouting and talking, and in one case, snoring. But unlike a woodcut from an early print of Grimm's Fairytales, these people were not human. They were twisted, furry, lanky, squat, fat, thin, pointy-eared, bulbous-nosed, horned, helmeted, hideous, adorable –
"This is where you wanted to go?" Pish inquired, breaking Sarah's line of thought.
"The fountain is right there," Tosh added.
"Yep. This is exactly where I wanted to go. I love you guys."
The blue dog wagged its tail. "Do you want us to take you somewhere else later?"
"Well, I'll want to go home sometime but it'll be a while. Can I call upon you?"
Pish nodded. "Any mirror will do."
"As long as the Goblin King does not object," Tosh warned.
"I am definitely going to try to stay on His Majesty's good side, don't worry. I'll see you later, guys." She hugged the blue dog goodbye and watched it fade away, out of existence. Bikkit propped her little head up out of Sarah's shirt to stare after the vanishing canine with disregard as if to say, 'good riddance'. She was not a dog loving ferret.
"Right," Sarah told her. "I'll let you down to play in a moment but right now you're staying here in my shirt or I swear, I'll tie ribbons to your whiskers."
The ferret looked unfazed by the threat.
She readied the digital camera and checked its settings as well as the battery lifetime. She would have to filter out red before using the finished pictures, or the lighting would end up looking odd due to the unusual tinge of the Underground. Fortunately she lived in the digital age and photo manipulation was something every other kid could do these days. She snapped a few pictures of the fountain in all its crude glory and adjusted the sharpness until she was satisfied.
Sarah started walking at a brisk pace, away from the plaza. Bikkit scampered on to her shoulder to sit like a queen surveying her realm, sniffing every breeze. Last time Sarah had been here she had been a bit preoccupied, running for her life and dodging live ammunition – the goblins inside the cannon balls had screamed with glee as they flew – and terrified that she was running out of time. Today she had all the time she could want and the residents were not giving her as much as a second glance in passing. She was going to find the perfect shooting location for this little adventure, and she was going to enjoy the sights along the way.
"And how goes the writing of heartfelt declarations?"
Toby looked up from the painfully crafted letter still sitting on the desk. His bright blue eyes met their two-hued counterparts in the face of the King, leaning against the study's door. Sporting his often favoured burnt sienna leather coat with the single shoulder plate, Jareth looked to be in a good mood. In fact, he was grinning. Sir Didymus, on the other hand, saw nothing for the brave little knight had fallen asleep in an armchair after defeating the brandy bottle. He was snoring lightly.
"I'm about done although I think it sucks," the youth replied honestly.
"Tch. I'm sure it's perfectly naïve and heartfelt and quite splendid for its purpose." The Goblin King strolled across the study and made a sweeping gesture at the tall, arched windows. "Come, come, Toby, tell me what you see."
Toby put the ball pen in the pen holder next to the array of luxurious quills and walked over. At first he could not tell what was so interesting about the view. It was a pleasant, sunny day in the Underground and the Goblin City far below was bustling with activity. That was nothing he had not seen before. Certainly nothing that would serve to plaster that particular smug grin on to his friend and mentor's thin lips.
"Look by the water mill, Toby," Jareth said.
Toby tilted his head for a better view. The wheels of a large watermill churned the waters of a small pond surrounded by an apple orchard. At the end of it lay a quaint, but charming half-timbered cottage. Smoke curled towards the sky from the chimney. "Isn't that new?"
"Yes, yes, it is."
He glanced back at the King. "I don't think I've ever seen you actually add anything to the city before, you know."
Jareth folded his arms across his chest and laughed, a soft, rippling sound. "Oh, you haven't? I wonder why that might be."
Toby frowned. "It's always been like it was for Sarah before."
"Yes?"
He gaped. "Sarah is here?"
"Nothing slips past you." The King was smirking, obviously pleased with himself.
Toby felt dizzy. "What the hell is Sarah doing here? That's... Oh my god, I'm gonna throttle her."
Jareth laughed again. "You'll find that difficult to do from up here."
The watermill on the edge of the Goblin City was rustic and beautiful. It was surrounded by pleasant, sunlight dappled apple orchards on three sides. A small river ran through, providing water for the mill pond. Carefully tended flowerbeds lined the little road that lead to the miller's house. It was idyllic, fantastic, perfect, and Sarah had filled one zip disk already when a tell-tale swirl of glitter appeared right in front of her. She stopped flat, expecting to witness the dramatic entrance of the monarch of the realm. Instead, Toby dropped out of nowhere, nearly falling on his backside as he materialised. He had obviously been leaning on something that was not transported along. He also looked surprised.
"Hi Tobes," she offered, puzzled.
Toby flailed and finally found his balance. "I can't believe this! You're here! All those times you said I couldn't go, all those warnings, and here you are, walking around like a friggin' tourist!"
Sarah's temper reared its head. "Back up a sec, kiddo! You're the one who's been coming and going here for a decade or more without bothering to let anyone else know so get off my case."
"Yeah well," Toby pouted. "You'd have ripped my face off if I had said anything."
"With good reason. I thought this place was dangerous."
"It's not fair. I come here for years and it always looks the same and then you turn up and the city starts -growing-. This watermill has never been here before."
Sarah could only hope she looked more intelligent than she felt at the moment. "You mean that this place, this entire orchard is new? And that I made it, somehow?"
Toby shrugged. "Well, it sure wasn't me."
"Ho snap," she said, impressed. "Yeah, I can definitely see me imagining something along those lines. Actually, I think I did something like this once. But Toby, when I paint something it stays on the paper, it doesn't materialise out of thin air. I think you're moping up the wrong tree here."
He opened his mouth and then shut it again before taking on a sheepish expression. "I'm being an ass."
Sarah swatted her brother's arm lightly. "It's okay. I'll let you live. This time. You can help me take pictures if you like."
Toby frowned. "I hate to burst anyone's bubble, Sis, but are you sure that's a good idea? I mean, what if someone gets a hold of the pics somehow? That's going to be one heck of an explanation to come up with."
"No one would believe it. They'd think it was staged with puppets or that I had manipulated the photos. You gotta love the digital age."
"I guess. Okay, what do you need?" He was still feeling silly about his outburst of sibling jealousy.
Sarah grinned. "Goblins. Lots of goblins. Somebody promised me a gaggle of goblins."
"Did she say the words?" A toad-faced goblin peered out between two grey-garbed knees.
"Nope," another replied from a bush. "She's talking about geese."
"Geese?"
"A gaggle is a lot of geese," the bush goblin replied confidently.
"I'm not gonna be a goose!" the first objected with a horrified expression, clutching a knee for support.
The owner of the knees peered down. "You're going to be a frog in a minute if you don't keep your voice down."
"Eep!"
"Now pay attention," the Goblin King said. "You're going to learn how to be chubby elves."
Sarah was running out of storage space for pictures and had finished off her thermos bottle of coffee. She was exhausted. She had no idea where Bikkit had taken off to. The goblins had been adorable in their little green elf hats – where had those come from, anyhow? . The impressions of the day were piling up in her mind, waiting to be sorted and processed before she could keel over for some much deserved rest. It was definitely time to pack up and call it a day. She looked at the small army of helpful and enthusiastic goblins that had appeared out of nowhere and failed to see her brother among them.
"Octavius, did you see where Toby went?"
The goblin twirled his baseball cap. "Yep. He gone home. Truf took him."
"Oh all right. I should get going too. You guys have been awesome. Would you help me find Bikkit and then take us back?"
"Leaving so soon?"
She spun around at the sound of the silky, accented voice. The Goblin King, in all his glittery majesty, leaned against an apple tree, arms crossed over his chest. He looked like he might have been standing there a while, watching the scene unfold.
"A pity. I hope everything was to your satisfaction?" he inquired.
"It's been fantastic. You've certainly done everything I asked for."
"Yes, I do have that habit, do I not?" He straightened and stalked towards her. She fought down the urge to back away.
"That's close enough, Your Highness. That intimidating prowl of yours was a lot more unsettling when I was fourteen."
His eyes sparkled. "You've certainly grown up, Sarah. Might I remind you that now you are on -my- turf?"
"Oh right. Do I scream and flee up a tree or will cowering be good enough?"
The King laughed and then said, "I am quite pleased with the commission."
"I'm not," Sarah replied honestly. "It's awful. But it's what you asked for."
He arched one winged eyebrow. "And what about it do you not like?"
"It's sex. Blatant, unashamed teenage wish fulfillment." The irony of that statement, made in present company, hit her a second later. "I like my paintings of people to have a little more substance, that's all."
"You'd be surprised at what teenagers wish for. It is often very droll." His voice carried the certainty of long familiarity.
Something in that tone made Sarah flare up; she too sold dreams for a living, after a fashion. "That's not true. Teenagers have hell trying to sort out what's going on with everything and growing up. I just don't like the way that certain game companies use questionable ideals and plentiful boobage to hook the kids into playing."
"Plentiful boobage?"
"I'm not having this argument. Not after what you did to my vampire painting. It's bad enough that my editor wants me to do sparkly vampires, I'm not going to go into wish fulfilment at -all- where you're concerned."
He chuckled. "Very well. Are you ready to return to your home, then?"
She looked around. "In a moment. I need to find my ferret."
"I rather enjoy her little visits. Her wishes are of course quite easy to grant. Why, currently she is chasing a mouse through a chicken coop, scattering eggs and feathers everywhere. Do you really want to interrupt her fun?"
Sarah groaned. "She'll be all right?"
"I promise."
"Chicken coop?" She shot the King a glance. "You're giving her a bath before you send her home, I hope."
A soft chuckle accompanied her as the glitter rose, and the yard of the watermill faded into apple-scented mist before the familiar shape and appearance of her living room took over. She scattered her belongings in small piles. First, start the laptop up and begin the transfer of image files to the hard drive. Then, put away the clothing and the roll of toilet paper, and wash out the empty thermos bottle. Switch to the other zip disk and empty that one out too. Sorting the images would be time consuming affair indeed. Well, then she knew what she'd be doing in the morning. For now, shower and bed.