The Shadow Lies so Darkly on the Hill
The Podlings, Sarah decided with mild exasperation, were nosy little creatures. While episodes of somnambulism weren't anything to be ashamed of, sleepwalking herself into the damn river and nearly drowning wasn't something she really wanted to talk about. But one of the little potato-headed creatures must have seen Sarah dripping down the halls as she dragged her exhausted body back to her room and informed the Gelflings queen.
"Sarah, you should have told us of your condition," Kira lightly chided over breakfast. "We could have taken precautions to make sure you remained safe."
Sarah squashed a surge of teenage pugnaciousness and tried not to glare into her food. Three long, thin fingers gently touched the back of her hand and she looked up into Jen's smile. With the weight of time etched onto his face and his easy attitude, he reminded her of a pixie version of her father.
"She isn't berating you," Jen said. "She's just concerned."
"She sounds like my stepmother," Sarah confided, softly, even though Kira was on her way out of the room.
Jen chuckled and patted her hand. "If you're finished with breakfast, we can see about getting you on your way," he said. "Aughra arrived before daybreak and is eager to meet you."
Sarah nodded and followed him from the sitting room. Though she'd had a tour of the place yesterday, she still couldn't help peeking around corners and into some of the rooms opening up off the hallway. The castle was full of little surprises—a solarium whose outside wall was one large sheet of curving glass; nooks that held brilliant pieces of artwork; crannies turned into tiny libraries. Jen even stopped to show her a few of the secret passages running throughout the castle.
As small as the Gelflings were, Sarah was surprised to find most of the furniture and rooms were made for some the size of an average human.
"The urSkeks were about your height," Jen said when she asked him. "This was their castle before they Transcended. Ah, here we are."
He gestured for Sarah to precede him into the room. As she stepped inside, the lights brightened, like they were motion-activated, and Sarah's eyes widened as she looked around. The room wasn't quite as big as the throne room, but the glass dome ceiling gave the impression that it continued upward all the way to the sky. A large mechanical representation of planets and suns stood in the center of the room. Tables, chairs, even the floor was strewn with strange looking gadgets that glowed, chimed, wheezed, clunked and clicked.
"We had the orrery built for Aughra to temporarily use until hers is rebuilt," Jen said, stepping around Sarah and waving a hand at the spinning globes.
"Rebuilt because you burnt it down," a scratchy voice said, making Jen shake his head and give Sarah a tolerant smile.
A short, heavyset woman waddled around the orrery. Iron-grey hair fell to her waist in a tangled mess. A tattered grey shawl wrapped around her shoulders and covered all but the skirts of her scarlet dress. Her skin was darker than Jen's and had the texture of wrinkled leather. Shoots of grey hair sprang out from the top of her lip and a crease, more pronounced than the rest of her wrinkles, scored deeply across her forehead, giving her a permanent scowl.
"Aughra," Jen said, bowing at the waist respectfully. "In all fairness, it was the Garthim who burnt your observatory down."
The woman harrumphed and pushed past him. "You. Them," she muttered. "Hardly matters." She came to a halt nearly on Sarah's toes. Coming up only to Sarah's hip, Aughra had to crane her neck back to look the younger woman in the eye. This close, Sarah could see two ram-like horns hidden among the frizzy cloud of her grey hair. The wisewoman had a squint—one eye either injured or completely gone—but there was something in the solitary rheumy orb that made Sarah nervous.
"So, the Traveler has finally made it, has she?" Aughra harrumphed in the back of her throat again. "You don't look like much of a hero," she said, taking a step back. "But then, I suppose you usually don't."
Jen chuckled. Aughra ignored him and continued to stare at Sarah, who felt she should at least be polite. "Um." Sarah licked her lips; when Jen had told her the Keeper of Secrets was eager to meet her, Sarah hadn't quite imagined someone like...this. "It's very nice to meet you."
Aughra snorted. "Very nice, indeed," she muttered. She turned her back on Sarah and walked around a nearby table, disappearing behind what looked like, to Sarah, piles of junk. "I suppose you'd like me tell you how to get to where you're going."
"Yes, please, if you can," Sarah said, nodding even though she wasn't sure the wisewoman could see her.
"Of course I can," came the indignantly hoarse reply. "But will I. Hmm. Maybe, maybe." There was a short shuffling sound and a metallic clink. Sarah looked at Jen, who shrugged. "Or maybe, I'll just snatch that pretty bauble from around your dead neck."
Sarah whirled around. Terror pulsed through her at the menacing look on Aughra's face. Sarah backed away, eyes wide. The amulet under her shirt warmed and gold light pierced through the cotton. Aughra eyed it, her head tilting to the side.
"Interesting," was all she said. Then, "Follow me."
Yeah, right, Sarah thought, not moving when the old woman walked out of the room.
"It's okay," Jen assured, motioning for Sarah to follow. "She's mostly all bark."
"Mostly?" Sarah repeated as she walked behind him. "What about the bit that isn't?"
Jen laughed and lengthened his stride to keep up with Aughra—for being short and squat, she sure did move fast. When she came to a halt, she looked over her shoulder, an annoyed expression crossing her face at finding Sarah and Jen so far behind.
"Inside, inside," she rasped with an impatient gesture. "You don't keep Them waiting."
Sarah hesitated. Walking into what seemed to be essentially a black hole was on her list of things that seemed like a Bad Idea. She glanced at the wisewoman, who glared up at her. And having Aughra at her back, who'd been threatening just moments ago, didn't seem very prudent, either.
But nothing had harmed her so far, and her gut kept telling her she could trust these people. She had learned at fifteen those feelings could get a person far in places like this.
Still, she walked cautiously into the room only after Jen gave her an encouraging nod and smile. The lights here, like in Aughra's observatory, came on as soon as Sarah stepped over the threshold. Unlike the observatory, though, the lights were in the floor—shimmering veins of gold running through the stone toward the center of the room. As they brightened, Sarah saw the perfectly circular hole in the middle that the lights swirled around.
And the gigantic crystal hovering above it.
A white-gold ray of light from a mirroring hole in the ceiling shafted down toward the crystal, hit it angles and bounced into the room. Sarah squinted into the brilliance and finally had to turn away when the blinding light brought tears to her eyes.
After the blaze dissipated, she was left blinking into the seeming gloom.
Except, now, she wasn't alone.
The being standing—no, hovering in front of Sarah was tall and willowy, the thin, crystalline branches sprouting from its head only adding to its impressive height. It had the face of an old man—a large, turnip-shaped nose, a heavy, hairless brow—but its eyes glowed white-gold from corner to corner. A pale, high-collared flowing robe hid everything but its long, reed-thin fingers, and was decorated with swirling gold circular patterns. The circles, like minature suns, moved continuously, as though the threads were in a constant state of flux.
That's a neat trick, Sarah thought.
"The Traveler," the being in front of her intoned. Its voice echoed brightly around the room, tasted like fresh forests and looked like warm spring days.
Sarah swallowed the taste from her tongue. "Why does everyone keep calling me that?" she muttered. "My name is Sarah. Sarah Williams."
A deep silence answered her, but Sarah had the impression it was amused rather than annoyed. "Sarah Williams," it amended, a droll note in its multi-toned voice. "You wish to continue your journey?"
I don't make wishes, anymore, she wanted to say. But instead replied, "Yes, please."
"You should know, your path will not be as straight as you might like," the being told her. And, Of course not, Sarah thought. Why would anything concerning the Goblin King be easy? "But though you may wander, you will not be lost as long as you keep your purpose." The spindly being held its hands up, palms out, then brought them quickly together. The sound rang through the air like a sonorous bell tolling. As it faded, so did the glowing being. "The crystal will act as a portal, but only for a short time," it told Sarah. It paused and solidified a little, its attention shifting to something behind her. "Gelflings," it murmured.
Sarah glanced over her shoulder and saw Kira and Jen standing a few feet away. One of the Podlings shuffled in behind them, carrying Sarah's backpack. Kira dropped into a low curtsy and Jen bowed deeply.
"Unglm," Jen said. "We are honored by your presence and offer our thanks for your assistance."
The being Jen named Unglm gave the Gelflings a small smile and nodded. "Our decision to leave this place to you was wise," it said, fading at the edges once again. "Luck to you, Sarah Williams."
When it had disappeared completely, Sarah let out a soft breath. She face Kira and Jen with a smile. "That seemed to go well," she told them.
Kira echoed her expression. "Very well," she said. "You have a direction and safe passage."
"And luck given by an urSkek is no paltry thing," Jen added.
"I have a feeling I'll need all I can get," Sarah said. She thanked the little Podling who trudged across the room and handed over her pack. "Although, I'm holding out hope this excursion into lands unknown will be easier than I'm being led to believe." She huffed as she slung the heavy load onto her shoulders. "His Royal Glitteryness better be worth all this trouble."
Kira crossed the room and took one of Sarah's hands in both of hers. "How far would you go for something you believe in, Sarah?" she asked. "How much would you sacrifice for someone you love?"
"Everything," Sarah said, her tone surprised, as though the answer should have been obvious. Because to her, it was.
"And for the Goblin King? Would you give your life to save him?"
Sarah hesitated.
Kira smiled faintly. "You remind me much of myself when I was young," she said. She patted the back of Sarah's hand affectionately. "You'll know, when the time comes, how much you're willing to give. You have powerful friends, remember." She patted Sarah's hand again. "We've put some spiny bark tea in your pack. It can be brewed or eaten. Be sure to take some at least once a day, if you can."
Sarah nodded. "I'll try," she said.
"And be wary of the forests," Kira added. Sarah nodded again. "And don't forget—"
"Kira, love," Jen interrupted with a soft laugh.
"I hate goodbyes," Kira admitted, smiling ruefully. "But we'll see each other again, that I know."
Sarah suddenly felt a little awkward. When she'd been fifteen, she would have hugged the Gelflings enthusiastically. Now...should she bow? Shake their hands? What was the protocol here for a human adult thanking a king and queen?
Kira solved the dilemma by motioning for Sarah to lean down. She patted the young woman's cheek gently. "You've grown up too much," Kira said. "Don't forget the girl you once were—you'll need her more than you think."
Sarah carefully returned Kira's hug. When she face Jen, he smiled, lightly kissed her knuckles, then hugged her as well. "Safe travels, Sarah," he said. "Until we meet again, be well."
Sarah thanked them both, then with a deep breath turned once again to face the crystal. She wondered how this was supposed to work; would it just teleport her somewhere? Did she need to give it instructions? There didn't seem to be any buttons...
"Um...'Beam me up, Scotty'?" She frowned at the crystal when nothing happened. "I don't need to click my heels together or anything, do I?" she asked over her shoulder.
She felt the Gelflings' confusion in their short silence. "No," Kira said. "Just think of where you want to go as clearly as possible."
Right. Where she wanted to go...
Where did she want to go? She didn't know the first thing about this place or where she should start searching for Jareth. The only thing she was familiar with was...
Well, I suppose that's as good a place to start as any.
Sarah closed her eyes again, furrowed her brow, and thought of sparkling brick walls strewn with dessicated trees, vigilant lichen, and hidden openings. She thought of two headed riddle askers, hands in the shape of faces, and little places of forgetting...
"The Labyrinth," she whispered, and stepped forward.
A searing light burned around her, making her wince and instinctively turned her head away. Tears squeezed from under her eyelids, but she wrapped her fingers around her amulet and took another step forward. She cracked an eye open to make sure she didn't accidentally step into the hole in the floor—
Her pulse leaped wildly. Her breath caught when she realized she stood suspended in the center of the vast opening. Rainbow shafts of light danced around her, as brilliant and blinding as the sparks from a diamond. Beyond the crystal wall, she could just make out Kira and Jen, holding hands and watching her. Sarah thought she saw Kira lift her arm in a wave, but the rainbows exploded around her and her vision went completely white.
When Sarah felt solid earth under her, she stumbled to her knees and took a few moments remembering how to breathe. The human body, she was sure, wasn't meant to be thrust through mirrors or teleported through crystals. Whatever happened to good old fashion cars and planes?
She slid her backpack from her shoulders and pushed unsteadily to her feet. She stood on a hilltop surrounded by dense forest. Nestled in the valley far below was a little town, the wilderness hovering claustrophobically around it. It was a long way between her and the village, and fighting her way though a dark forest didn't sound very appealing. Or safe, even without Kira's warning. Sarah turned around to see if she had any other options.
And she frowned.
"Well, at least I've found myself another castle," she sighed. The Underground seemed to be littered with them, but it still wasn't the castle. While she certainly didn't think things would have remained exactly how she's left them twelve years ago, Sarah didn't believe the Labyrinth could have been swallowed by all this thick vegetation or that the castle beyond the goblin city would be in such disrepair.
"How the hell am I supposed to get to where I want to go?" she muttered.
Maybe where you want to go and where you need to go are not the same...
Sarah blinked. That thought seemed entirely too profound to be hers. Warmth flared against her skin and she glanced down at the amulet hanging around her neck.
It winked at her.
"Just not surprised, anymore."
Slinging her backpack onto her shoulders again, Sarah started toward the castle. This hike wasn't as pleasant as when she'd landed in Thra—the slope was steep and rocky, the air was heavy with humidity, and every few feet she seemed to find a cloud of gnats, which tried their damnedest to fly up her nose and into her mouth.
Sarah snorted the annoying insects out of her nostrils and carefully stepped around fallen stones. The castle must have once been a grandly beautiful structure—she could still see chips of bright paint on some of the walls—but it had been neglected by everything but the elements. She ran her fingers along a smoother stone wall as she made her way through the deteriorated gatehouse and into the overgrown courtyard. Ahead, the main building stood...sagged, really, in weary dilapidation while its windows' dead black eyes peered down at her.
A cool breeze touched the nape of Sarah's neck. She ignored the sensation, and climbed the cracked and crumbling stairs leading into the castle proper. The only illumination inside came from sunlight beaming through the holes in the roof. Sarah's boots scuffed along the pebbles littering the floor as she made her way deeper into the castle.
A sharp sound snapped through the empty space. Sarah's heart jumped to her throat. Looking up, she saw watch a pigeon-colored bird fly out of a dark corner. A shaky breath passed through her lips and she shook her head. The silence of the place was definitely creepy. She hooked her thumbs through the straps of her backpack, prepared to sling it from her shoulders and swing at anything that might jump out at her.
The door ahead was bright with sunlight and, as Sarah stepped through, she saw the roof was completely gone from over what she thought had once been a grand hall. Towering trees had taken the place of the crumbling stone columns that had once stood around the edges, casting deep shadows into the corners. A set of stairs led down to the main area, the floor of which might have once been a brilliantly colored mosaic. Now, tufts of grass shot from cracks cutting through the pictures, faded until they were no longer recognizable.
Sarah stepped through the door—then quickly retreated back into the shadows when she heard something softly sweeping over the floor below her.
A woman swayed out from between the columns. She was barefoot, but paid no head to the tiny stones strewn over the floor. Her dress might have once been a lovely shade of sky blue, but now was a dingy grey, and the edges of her black bodice were frayed. Full skirts dotted with small rents twisted and unwound lightly from her ankles, the hems heavily stained. She spun through the ruins, back and forth, her arms held up as though she waltzed with an invisible partner.
And she sang. Softly, almost under her breath. As she passed by the short staircase where Sarah stood, twirling on the balls of her feet in a graceful half-turn, the melody fell from her lips, sweet as the song of a nightingale.
Sarah pulled in a soft breath when she recognized the song. The woman jerked to a halt. Turning around slowly, her hands fell to her sides and she buried them in her dirty skirts. But the aria still whispered from her lips, as though she couldn't stop the melody from spilling out.
A shaft of sunlight cut through the trees and touched off thick blonde hair the color of tarnished gold spun with wilting dandelions. Creamy skin stretched over delicate features; a thin nose turned slightly upward at the tip, a small rosebud of a mouth, high cheekbones holding an attractive flush. She was pretty, beautiful despite the condition of her clothes and tangled hair.
There was something...off about her, though. And it wasn't just the small scratches marring the porcelain perfection of her face and arms, making her look like she'd been running blindly through the forest, or the dirty bandages wrapped around the pointer finger of her left hand. It was something Sarah couldn't quite place. At first, she thought maybe it was the weird play of shadows under the precise arch of the woman's eyebrows...
But as she moved closer, as her familiar song started from the beginning—this time, an eerie whisper of "I know you..."—Sarah realized what was wrong. No light sparkled from jewel-toned irises. Something dry and flaky smeared under her eyes; something too rusty red to be dirt.
Bile rose, hot and thick, in Sarah's throat as the woman lifted her chin and shook her hair over her shoulder.
Because the dark crimson smudged over the woman's cheeks was dried blood—
—from the thin black threads sewn through her upper and lower eyelids, keeping them permanently shut.
Chapter title: "Who's that walking on the moorland? Who's that moving on the hill? They are passing 'mid the bracken, But the shadows grow and blacken, And I cannot see them clearly on the hill.[...] Who's that running on the moorland? Who's that flying on the hill? He is there—and there again, But you cannot see him plain, For the shadow lies so darkly on the hill." A Tragedy, Arthur Conan Doyle