As I've forgotten to again and again in previous chapters, I'm going to (finally) take care of some business here. That business is to thank everyone who has favorited and/or followed this story, particularly those who have left such shining reviews. I get giddy every time I get an email that another review has been posted to my stories and I'm so glad to have such positive feedback from you guys. Thanks so much for your support, I hope you continue to enjoy where Jareth and Andie's story goes and I also hope to not cause any riots with the amount of cliffhangers I keep throwing your way (sorry, not sorry). Much love from me to you, thank you one more time. xo

Andie's features tightened with horror. "I can't kill anyone."

Nyle shrugged. "I can hardly imagine you will have much choice, given the circumstances. If you wish to save yourself, that is."

"Elaborate."

"Considering you get your opportunity before the clock is fixed—and the clock will be fixed—and magic and time returning put him back to full power, any act that did not completely incapacitate him would result in more deeply fueled rage and little else. He would just try harder, despite his kingdom not yet what it was."

"And if my opportunity wouldn't come until after?" she asked warily. "Hypothetically speaking."

He shook his head solemnly. "I'm not sure that there would be an opportunity after. At full ability…" Nyle paused and weighed his words. "He is more than formidable. With what you have at your disposal, you wouldn't stand a chance."

She clenched her jaw faintly and murmured tonelessly, "And you're sure it's the only way?"

"To my knowledge, yes. Though, I advise you not to feel too terribly about it," Nyle reasoned. "You would only be doing to him what he will do to you if you don't."

"If that was supposed to help, it didn't," Andie murmured.

"The truth rarely helps. At least, in obvious ways. Just don't let your chance slip through your fingers if you are unprepared to face the consequences."

"Got it," she replied to get him to stop talking about it, feeling sick to her stomach. Nyle seemed to notice this and quit the subject entirely, continuing on their way in silence. He eventually left her to her own company when he fell back to retrieve Didymus and Ambrosius from wherever they'd wandered off to in pursuit of a scent trail and she heard him calling after the two and receiving snarky remarks—and barks—from both whenever their skills were questioned. She noticed that the sounds faded in volume after some time, but only thought to turn when she didn't hear them at all. Jareth was still back there, but the others were gone. "Um… Where'd everyone go?"

Jareth glanced up as if jarred from deep thought before looking over his shoulder as well. "I've not the slightest idea."

"Should we go back and look for them?" she asked uncertainly.

His lips thinned into a tight line before he allowed, "Call for them first. This place is designed to throw those inside off course… That may be what happened."

"That easily?"

"It's very possible." Jareth glanced ahead. "I simply hope it was not us that turned astray."

Andie sighed. "I should've been sketching a map or something."

"It would not have helped," Jareth reasoned. "Just like the Labyrinth, these halls have all manners of turns and deceptions."

"Of course they do," she said dismally before calling for their colleagues. "Nyle! Sir Didymus? Ambrosius!"

"You're calling the dog?" he asked dubiously.

"Dogs have great hearing, it was worth a shot…"

He stared at her before nodding once. "Fair enough." They both listened and heard nothing in response, and after a moment, Jareth said, "I would personally continue on."

"Of course you would," Andie mumbled.

His eyes narrowed. "Not for the reasons you assume. At least, not this time."

"Then why?" she asked, folding her arms over her chest.

"Because tracking them down here is impossible with what we have now," Jareth sighed. "If we succeed in setting time back in motion and return the magic of this world, finding them will be easy. As is, we will only get ourselves lost if we've not gotten lost already."

"And if we have?" Andie wondered.

He shrugged. "There's nowhere to go but onward."

She looked at him and measured their options before nodding her head. "Okay. Let's go."

Jareth continued to follow along behind her, but at a much shorter distance so it was less likely they'd be separated. Andie kept hearing Nyle's warnings in her head as if they were etched upon a broken record and she was beginning to send herself into a quiet panic. She didn't want to kill anyone, much less hurt anyone, but she also wanted to leave. She had no idea what would happen to her if she stayed after she and Jareth were no longer on a level playing field of power. She had no idea what he was truly capable of. And, on some level, she had no idea what she was capable of, herself.

Her eyes fell to the dagger fastened to her hip, chewing her lower lip nervously. Maybe if she just nicked him, distracted him long enough to get away… But where would she go? How was she to miraculously know the way out of there unless the return of magic sent her away automatically, since she had served her purpose and was no longer needed in the Labyrinth? What if this wasn't her purpose for being here? What if there was no purpose at all, if it was just some disastrous mistake? She had so many uncertainties, but there was only one thing that rang true again and again: she had to be there for her family.

Just when Andie was starting to wonder if they were, indeed, lost within the mirrored tunnels, she heard a boom of thunder and glanced nervously around the cavern, afraid the noise might disturb the numerous glass panes adorning the walls around them. "Sounds like the storm is getting worse…," she murmured dismally before realizing that she'd heard a sound from outside. "Wait a second…"

She looked back at Jareth, who seemed eager with relief as another crash of thunder sounded and they both ran toward the sound before it could fade, using it like a compass. When they reached another hatch that mirrored the one they had first entered through—though this one was split down the middle—Andie felt an enormous amount of stress leave her frame. Andie braced her shoulder against one of the hatch doors and pushed with all her might, just hoping this entrance wasn't buried beneath castle ruin as well. When it began to give a bit, she was encouraged to try harder. "Well?! Help or something!" she snapped when Jareth stood there and watched her progress.

"Ah, quite," he murmured sheepishly before walking over and shoving the door alongside her. The second time they combined strength, they were able to swing the door free, the great iron hatch half falling open with an echoing metallic boom. As soon as it did, the storm filtered into the tunnel.

It was in the early stages—it looked as if it had rained while they were navigating the tunnels, the stones of the throne room outside shiny and slick—but the air was charged with electricity and the promise of more to come. She could see the clock exactly as she'd left it across the space, looking eerie and old in the ancient ruins and the dusky light that was the calm before the storm. Everything was much too still.

"Come on," Jareth ordered decidedly as he slipped past her to exit the tunnel, his eyes roving over the decrepit place he'd once called home. How it had fallen after his departure… After her departure. It almost pained him to see how far this place had fallen and to remember how far he'd fallen with it.

Andie followed begrudgingly, her heart pounding furiously within the cage of her ribs as she rushed toward a decision of what she would do. She looked at him while he had his back turned to her, as he peered around his throne room in shambles and looked older to her all over again. He was the strangest, most peculiar man she'd ever met and she was afraid of being destroyed by him. She was a brave individual, near-fearless apart from the things everyone was naturally afraid of. But, in this moment, this one man was everything she'd ever feared because she was quite sure he could break her heart before this was all over.

She'd unconsciously stopped near the center of the pit before the Goblin King's throne, where he'd wandered, his gloved hand roving along the curved backing. She'd sat in that throne briefly while there the last time and she almost smirked at the look that might cross his face had he known. The silver scepter glittered on his hip and caught her eye; she still was not sure what had compelled her to take that with her and give it to him. Fetching like a dog, she supposed spitefully. Her insides felt iced over and shaky and she no longer knew who had better gotten into her head between Jareth, Nyle, and her own uncertainties. Everything they'd shown her—Jareth's wrath and Nyle's predictions—had been amplified by doubt. She felt as if she could break.

"What are you waiting for?" he wondered from the throne as she came back to reality, his voice sounding a bit tight.

Andie glanced at him and hesitated. "I… I don't really know, I suppose," she murmured, swinging the backpack around to get the parts of the clock out, though she still had no idea where the arm was. She figured the clock would at least function without it and they could find it later.

"Did you not hear me?" he asked, leaning forward in his seat.

"I heard you already, I'm fixing the damn clock."

"You clearly didn't hear me because I said to approach me," Jareth retorted calmly, eyes following her closely.

Andie's eyes narrowed. "Why?"

"To bow down to your king, of course," Jareth chuckled, leaning back and lazily sprawling in his curved throne like the arrogant monarch he was.

"You're impossible," she muttered as he laughed, wondering what was causing his rampant mood swings. Must be his pompous way of celebrating his soon-return to power and avoid thanking her for her help because she had helped, whether he admitted it or not. He'd still be down in that oubliette if she hadn't, well…fallen into it, but still. He owed her. It seemed as though he had no recognition of that fact, however, and he'd said her king, which meant, even subconsciously, he was predicting her stay. This confirmed her fears and sent a weird chill coupled with a quiet resolve through her frame.

Grumbling to cover up her anxiety, she moved toward the clock beside the throne, looking over the inside to make sure it was as she remembered. Andie dug out the drawstring pouch with the cogs in it and gently dumped them into her hand after loosening the bag, replacing it in the backpack she'd set on the ground. "I feel like I should not be doing it like this," she murmured as she stuck three of the cogs in her pocket and started with the biggest one, carefully wedging it into place. It fit with a click and she reached back into her pocket for the next largest piece.

Jareth watched her progress from his throne, his features passive and unreadable. His gaze only shifted when thunder boomed once more, closer this time. Dark clouds roiled in the sky above the fragmented ceiling, lightning igniting and flooding the throne room with pure light. Andie looked up at the flash, swearing quietly when it started raining on them. Jareth watched as rain soaked down from the openings in the domed roof, wetting the room once more. Water bounced off his leather pants and boots, absorbed into his cotton shirt, and rolled off his vest and gloves. His eyes roved over to Andie, whose shirt was now soaked—not that he minded—and who was now pushing dampened hair out of her face as she continued to try to work in the rain shower, which would soon, he thought, become a downpour.

If there were ever a time to strike, he thought, it would be now.

Four days prior to that fateful night when the crystal peach had whisked her away into the Kingdom of Whence, into the Underground, Andie had knocked on her parents' front door and waited silently outside for an answer. She'd just come to pick up some fresh vegetables from the garden her dad tended outside and, after a couple of moments of no response, she backed up down the steps to peer around at the garage. Her dad's car was gone, but her mom's was still there… Maybe they'd gone out together.

She walked back up the steps to the door and tried the knob, finding that it didn't give, which confirmed her assumption that her parents had gone out on an errand or something to that effect. She was honestly glad her mom was getting out of the house and let herself hope that what she'd thought she'd seen just a few days ago was just her overly prepared mind jumping to conclusions.

The instance coming to mind was when Andie had been over just a few days before to do laundry and had taken over laundry duty for her parents as well as a thank-you for letting her use their washer and dryer once again. She'd been passing by her parents' bedroom door when she'd heard her mother's voice through the gap from the jamb. She'd paused and listened, making sure Sarah hadn't been calling for her after hearing her go by. "I need you," came her mother's voice again in a sad, pleading tone. She'd also said something before that, but Andie hadn't been able to make it out, thinking it sounded like a strange "H"-name or something to that effect.

Deciding she must've been talking to her, Andie had gently nudged the door open and was surprised to find her mother sitting at her vanity, staring into her mirror, her fingertips gently brushing the glass. When Andie's eyes fell to Sarah's hands, she'd noticed the faint tremor moving through the limbs and her gaze dipped back up to her mother's fretful face before she said softly, "Mom?"

Sarah had startled a little and immediately turned, withdrawing her hands and folding them in her lap as she turned, something she'd been doing more of lately, Andie realized somberly. "Oh, I'm sorry, sweets. Did you need something?"

Andie hesitated before playing it off for her benefit. "Have any laundry to contribute?"

"Oh, no, but thanks for checking. And thanks for taking care of it, I appreciate it," Sarah had replied with one of her gentle smiles, though it lacked its usual brightness. Andie had nodded and hesitated one more moment, which had caught Sarah's attention. "Are you sure that was what you wanted to ask me?"

The youngest of Sarah's children had forced a small smile and nodded. "Yeah. I love you, Mom."

The smile had been much more genuine that time. "I love you, too."

Andie dug into her purse and pulled out her keys, which had somehow worked their way down to the dark abyss that was the bottom of her bag in the couple of minutes after she'd thrown them in there. She slid the correct key into the lock and turned it until the lock popped back and the knob turned; she pushed it open gently and closed it behind her, twirling her keys around her finger since she'd need them in just a moment.

She inhaled deeply of the familiar cinnamon-apple scent wafting through the house and blew out a breath, smiling as she walked to the kitchen and placed the reusable bag she had brought with her on the counter, starting to load the separate plastic bags of produce into it when she could have sworn she heard something.

Her smile faded as she paused in her packing, listening for any other noises to confirm what she'd thought, but when nothing else came, she disregarded her brain's probable trick and continued, only to be distracted by what was definitely a sound a moment later. Thinking of her mother's car in the garage, she inquired, "Mom? You home?"

When she heard a whimper from the staircase, she dropped the container of zucchini she'd been holding and ran toward the steps, taking them two at a time until she got to the turn and found her mom sprawled as if her feet had simply given out from under her. Immediately defaulting into her first-aid training, she'd checked her over as carefully as possible, her cell phone pinned between her ear and her shoulder as she spoke to the 911 dispatcher as calmly as possible.

More than anything when she recalled that crucial moment, she remembered the time days before when she'd had an inkling that something might be wrong and she dwelt on the dependent look in her mother's eyes as she'd looked up at Andie from her position on the stairs. Her strong, delightful mother, her rock, looking at her with the very eyes she'd given her and depending on Andie to save her.

Thunder cracked and lightning split the sky above, rain pelting down as Andie fastened in the second to last gear into the mechanism, having to press it harder than the others to get it to fit into the proper grooves. She heard Jareth climb off his throne to check her progress, she assumed, her mind still muddled with nervousness and the possible outcomes she was faced with from just one choice. She didn't like being backed into a corner with a solely this-or-that decision. She liked lots of options. However, that didn't seem to be the case this time. She wondered if he sensed her unease.

The curve of the roof barely shielded her from the angle of the rain and, though she was still being hit with the countless droplets of moisture, it wasn't as much as she would be standing elsewhere in the room. She stood very close to the clock to minimize the amount of rain that soaked her, still digging in her pocket for the last cog when she felt his hand wrap around her arm and halt her search. This is it, she thought, weak with anxiety as she glanced up and let him turn her to face him.

Andie stared at him silently as he seemed to war with himself, though he—at the very least—didn't seem murderous or even angry. He seemed conflicted at best. "Is something wrong?"

His mismatched eyes leveled with hers and he contemplated her silently, which was when she finally noticed what seemed so off about him; he was wary. As he remained still, she thought on the final cog nestled somewhere in her pocket, thought of what it meant for him and for his kingdom. What it meant for her. It would seal her fate and make it exponentially more difficult for her to leave. The dagger on her hip suddenly felt ten times as heavy.

When he still hadn't spoken, she murmured, "If you're going to—"

"My wish is to be the one to place the sky in your eyes."

Her mind tried to wrap around his odd turn of phrase and she found herself perplexed by the words, at least until she felt his hand drop from her arm only so he could slide off one of his black leather gloves for the first time since she'd met him. Oh, no, she reacted mentally, the rest of her soundless and tense. However, he did the last thing she'd expected him to do in that moment, his hand moving toward her cheek and gently skimming his fingertips over her skin, following the sharp line of her jaw and sending chemical electricity shooting through her frame down to her toes. Her mouth felt dry as he gently smoothed the pad of his thumb against her rain-wetted lower lip. Jareth finally leaned in and brushed his lips against hers with great care, still lightly holding her chin between his thumb and index finger.

The rain forgotten even as it poured amidst the lightning and thunder that managed to send actual tremors through the atmosphere, she hesitated briefly before yielding to the kiss and then returning it at last. Yet, in her hand rested the dagger, drawn from her side after he'd removed his glove, but before his intentions were clear.

"He's not going to let you leave, you know."

Andie's fingers flexed around the weapon's hilt. It hung in her tight grip at her side, and the point began to become more angled at his ribs. Could she do this? Would she? To get back to her family? To her mom? Wouldn't she do anything to be there for her? Couldn't she see through this one ethereal man's facade, his temporary affections, and his pretty words following a cold truth that had come through earlier on?

"Well, I am through with you, little girl!"

He likely was. It would not surprise her if he saw through her and the entirety of what she'd tried to hide. That she was her mother's daughter, there by some random act of happenstance, not by destiny or motive. That she was afraid and knew nothing apart from her mom's stories about what the Labyrinth could become, and Sarah had only seen a portion of its oddities. She had also seen it intact and not as this strange, broken puzzle of a landscape with a rioting sky above proclaimed to be now. She'd found him in the darkness and had been his ticket out. He would not return that favor. She couldn't imagine that he truly cared for her at all. This was a game.

"It does not last. Trust me."

One she couldn't lose.