Updated for grammar & spelling and checked for continuity: March 10, 2011.
Chapter Twenty-Four: The Goblin Delegation
The tension in the hall hung in the air, settling heavily on the shoulders of everyone present. The delegation was due to arrive any moment, and that knowledge seemed only to strengthen Jareth's desire to begin pacing and start kicking anything that got in his way. The only thing restraining him at this point was the pressure of his wife's hand upon his own.
He glanced at the woman seated at his side. She faced forward, her eyes scanning every aspect of the set-up, mentally double-checking for any extremely last minute adjustments. She sat completely still, exuding poise from every fiber. Except, he noted, for the white-knuckled grip she has on one of her armrests and on my hand. He gently extracted his hand and changed positions, resting his atop hers, and gave a gentle squeeze. Somehow, through that simple act, he felt able to breathe easier again. Smiling to himself, he returned his gaze to the large doors at the other end of the hall.
Sarah desperately searched for something to keep her mind off the feeling of dread housing itself in her stomach since Jareth informed her of the delegation. She had checked and re-checked all the details for the day's proceedings, had tried deep breaths, and had even worked through some of the mental relaxation techniques she learned years ago in a high-school drama class. Nothing seemed to work. Thankfully, the appearance of calm masking inner turmoil of any sort came second nature after many years of practice. Though, admittedly, this morning she was having difficulty retracting her vice-like grip on her arm-rests.
The sudden touch of her husband's hand on her own startled her; she barely refrained from jumping out of her skin. Looking down, she saw that her left hand was on his armrest rather than her own and, judging from the marks, she had been digging into his hand. Turning her gaze to his face, she noticed the knowing, self-satisfied, and slightly arrogant smirk he wore when he had just discovered something about her that she had not. Normally this served to do nothing beyond irritate her completely. However, she was slightly surprised at finding the expression actually intensified the way he was regarding the door as though he could force it to open simply through his gaze. Which, she realized after giving it some thought, he probably could do anyway. She wondered how long it would take before he actually did make the doors fly open. For some reason, this struck her as incredibly funny and, as she focused on not laughing outright, she managed to relax her grip.
A feather-light whisper drew Jareth's attention. "They are coming." Everyone present knew his announcement would give them only a few seconds warning before the doors at the end of the Hall opened. The portal being used by the delegation was set to open in the antechamber, four steps from the doors. As soon as all members of the party entered the Underground, the portal would close and doormen would perform their duty.
Katrin smoothed the fabric of her skirt where she had been twisting it and folded her hands in her lap. She could not decide if she was relieved the delegation had finally arrived or more nervous because of it. As she raised her eyes to the heavy, wooden doors, they slowly and silently opened outward. She took a deep breath.
Squeeker, the herald whose name belied a carefully trained voice, stepped into the room and bowed. After he rose, he spoke. "Your Majesties," he boomed, "a delegation from Gringotts Bank Aboveground has arrived seeking to petition for aid."
Jareth nodded slightly. "We grant them leave to enter the Hall and voice their request."
Squeeker bowed low then swept to the left of the doorway and faced the side wall. Turning his head toward the delegation, he made a grand gesture with his left arm beckoning them inside. "Enter the Hall of the Goblin King." Turning his head in the opposite direction, he intoned. "Majesties, I present the Delegation Goblins of the Magical Realm of the Mortal World, led by Master Queezink and Master Crinklow, Governors at Gringotts Bank Aboveground."
Katrin's eyes widened imperceptibly as she watched five Goblins process toward the dais, the doors closing behind them. They were quite unlike any Goblins she had ever seen. In basic form, they were similar to the Goblins who worked in the Castle. Both types had pointy ears and noses, long fingers and feet. But that was where the similarities ended. For starters, these Goblins were at least twice as tall, though that would still leave them barely coming up to her waist. They were also definitely much better dressed wearing fitted business suits of a style that mixed those of the 19th and 20th Centuries. If she had not been used to the basic Goblin face, she would not have been able to tell the difference between each. Their features were much more indistinguishable than those of the Goblins Underground. In addition, there was a definite cleverness shining in the eyes of each, something rarely found in those here. But what unnerved her most of all was the presence of something else in their eyes. She could not quite place it, it was not precisely evil or nasty. But whatever it was, she knew it would ensure second thoughts in would-be enemies.
They steadily made their way toward the thrones. She assumed the two in the lead were Masters Queezink and Crinklow, one of whom leaned slightly on a cane. The other carried a rather large ledger. Directly behind them, the other three Goblins followed. One carried a pile of scrolls atop a flat, wooden box. The other two Goblins were carrying a large chest between them. When they finally arrived at the foot of the thrones, the back Goblins set down the chest and they all bowed in unison.
"Rise, Goblin Delegates," Jareth instructed. "It has been long since those who once set forth Aboveground to make their way in the Mortal World made the journey to the Castle beyond the Goblin City. We bid you welcome. Be at ease and let Us be made aware of the goings-on that have prompted this visit."
The front two Goblins took a step forward. The one with the cane inclined his head once before speaking. "Your Majesty," he began, "I am Master Crinklow and this is my colleague, Master Queezink. The others are clerks from various departments throughout Gringotts Bank, Kanzorr, Griphook, and Whealeng." As the Goblins' names were mentioned, they too inclined their heads. "Firstly, if it pleases Your Majesty, we have brought with us the records from the last quarter and this months tribute." At this, one Goblin unlocked the chest and flung it open to reveal a large pile of gold and gems. Another took the scrolls and placed them atop the treasure.
At Jareth's nod of approval, Squeeker rapped on a door. It cracked open and four Goblin servants ran in. They stood in a line just behind the delegates and the chest. "Take the tribute and records up to the Treasury." The servants bobbed up and down, then shut the lid. One pocketed the key, and they lifted the chest on their shoulders and scurried out the door.
Well, thought Katrin, there's another difference. Stately and calm versus nearly uncontrollable hyperactivity.
When the door closed again, Jareth returned his attention to the delegation. "You are to be commended for your attention to detail and punctuality over the years. Not once have you missed a shipment, nor have you been late. Indeed, today you are early. However, surely you did not make this journey simply for the sake of delivering records?"
This time, Queezink spoke up. "No, Majesty. We thought it would be best to deliver in person as we would be present today and would have the opportunity to do so. As to the other issue, it is a complicated tale to tell.
"It begins over fifteen years ago. As Your Majesty knows, the world we live in has a Realm of Magic running parallel to the non-Magical. Those humans who dwell in this realm are able to use Magic as well. They are known as Wizards and Witches. The Magical art they practice is not all light and sunny, unfortunately. There are those who have learned what is referred to as the Dark Arts. Many years ago, there was an especially powerful Wizard who dedicated his life to the Dark Arts. For reasons too involved to explain at this time, he wanted very much to rid the Mortal World - not just the Magical Realm, but the entire World - of humans who are unable to practice Magic. He had many followers and, though those opposing him outnumbered him, there was great fear that he would never be defeated. Until one night nearly fifteen years ago.
"One night, he went to destroy a Wizarding family. There were only three, husband, wife, and a baby boy. Though he managed to kill the parents, when he tried to curse the child it backfired somehow and the Dark Wizard was destroyed. Or so it was thought.
"In truth, he was simply nearly destroyed. His powers had been dissipated and he lost physical form. But, somehow, he managed to remain behind. Not much is known about how he survived, if survival is what it can be called. From what we understand, the Dark Wizard would attach himself to living creatures like a parasite, moving from one to another. Until he came upon a Wizard named Quirrell.
"Through this Wizard, he was able to take steps to return to human form. He used Quirrell to drink the blood of Unicorns in order to gain strength. And he used Quirrell to attempt to acquire the Philosopher's Stone."
Katrin inhaled sharply and Sarah's eyes widened at that. Jareth raised an eyebrow at their recognition. "The Philosopher's Stone?" he asked."
Queezink opened his mouth to explain, but Sarah beat him to it. "Alchemy," she said. "The turning of metal into gold. During the 15th and 16th Centuries, possibly even earlier than that and as far into the early 17th, alchemists attempted to discover how to make the Philosopher's Stone. It's supposed properties led to many a Mediaeval and Renaissance con. Legend said that it would turn normal metals into gold and make gold multiply. And, what is more important to this discussion, grant immortality. But I thought that is all it was, legend."
"Well," Crinklow explained, sounding marginally stunned that she knew as much as she did about Mortal history, "the majority of even the most highly educated scholars believe as you do. Or did, until four years ago. Only those who were involved in the process and are still alive and those who have read the most obscure references knew the truth. Only one had been made and the research destroyed, so the rest of the Magical Realm managed to allow the truth to fade away. Of course, the non-Magical humans dissuaded themselves of the possibility completely with the development of their science and have long since written it off as legend."
Sarah sighed. "Non-Magical. Of course."
The Goblins blinked at that, not entirely sure what to make of such a statement. Jareth grinned slightly. It wasn't often these Goblins could be thrown off course. "What happened four years ago?"
"Ah, yes," continued Queezink. "For many years, the Philosopher's Stone remained locked away. Somehow, its location was discovered by the Dark Wizard and he used Quirrell to attempt to steal it from it's safe. The attempt was thwarted, it was moved, he attempted again, he was thwarted again, and finally it was destroyed."
After a brief pause during which none of the Goblins made any motions to continue, Jareth spoke up. "I understand why this would be of some concern to the Mortals," he began, "but what does this have to do with you and, more specifically, with the Underground and the Our Kingdom?"
Crinklow cleared his throat. "Now we come to the point, Your Majesty," he said. "Under other circumstances, perhaps, this would not be an issue to raise here. However, two final pieces of information have yet to be revealed. Let me do so now.
"The first is that, regardless of his thwarted attempt at gaining the Philosopher's Stone, the Dark Wizard has returned to the physical, living world. Thankfully, because the Stone was not used, that life he now lays claim to is not an immortal one. However, having returned to the physical form he has access to all the powers he once possessed. They have returned to him, as have some of his followers.
"Normally, this would be of little concern to us Goblins. Should the worst happen, the possibility to withdraw Underground as the rest of the Fae have done would still lay before us. Except something has happened that causes great concern: the Dark Wizard might have the knowledge of how to open a Portal to the Underground, the skills to survive its harshness unnoticed, and the power to return Aboveground unscathed."
"What cause do you have to believe these things?" As he spoke, Sarah felt Jareth tense through the contact of their hands. She could not help but to tense as well, both in sympathy and because she knew what was coming. Though he did not know all the details of what would be said, and gave the impression that he knew even less, Jareth was completely aware of the events in the Magical Realm. And, through him, so was she. Enough so that they were able to piece together the only possible reason the Goblins would arrive for aid at this precise moment.
Crinklow exchanged a look with Queezink before answering. "You mentioned our attention to detail, Majesty, and how it should be commended. I fear you spoke too soon for it was a lack in attention to detail that allowed the knowledge of the Philosopher's Stone being held at Gringotts Bank in a high security vault to be leaked. And it was lack in attention to detail that allowed some of our own Goblin employees to betray us and lead Quirrell into the Underground and provide him with instructions on how to arrive at the specific vault from a back entrance. It was lack in attention to detail that nearly allowed him to succeed. Had another party not had the foresight to remove the Philosopher's Stone the morning of the attempted theft, he might have succeeded completely. And it was lack in attention to detail that allowed the conspirators to be... er, disposed of before questioning and punishment made them willing to divulge the answers to three vital questions."
"What are those questions?"
"First, though the Dark Wizard could not touch his own powers without a body, as a parasite were they channelled to add to Quirrell's own allowing for special advantages when confronting the dangers of the Underground? Second, though we know the traitors opened the portal into the Underground for him, did he arrange to have them open another to return to the Mortal World or was he taught how to make his own portals? Third, and this is most important, how aware was Quirrell - and through him the Dark Wizard - of the fact that the Underground is not simply an undiscovered aspect of the Magical Realm but the World of the Fae?"
"I see." Jareth's eyes narrowed. He knew this was coming. He had seen all the signs. He had seen them four years ago. What he did not know, however... "And what, pray, do you wish Us to do in order to assist you in answering these questions. For that is, I presume, what you have come here to request."
"It is indeed, Majesty," Queezink confirmed. "What we ask for is not precisely for you to do anything so much as provide us with something."
Jareth raised an eyebrow. "And that something would be...?"
"A guide."