Chapter 26.

The board members grimly listened as Robert gave them the facts, Drake and Dean Johnson listened as well. Both Ann and Sarah sat quietly having been invited to the meeting that was more of a hearing than anything else. Drake shot glaring looks over at Ann as the charges against him and Dean Johnson were read.

"Miss Archy not only met the requirements of the assignment but surpassed them. As she has done with all her work, and yet this man has targeted her for a vendetta." Robert said with ease, he moved about with the practiced straightforwardness and effortlessness of a man who was use to working a courtroom. "Dean Johnson then proceeded to not only cover up this man's grudge and vengeance, but he was willing to back him up even though no grade had been entered into the system."

The commissioner of the school board frowned, "Dean Johnson I'm not going to ask if this is true," Mrs. Landry stated grimly, "What I want from you is a reason as to why you'd put your own position here in jeopardy."

Dean Johnson stood up; he looked at the board members and shook his head, "I have no defense."

Sarah pursed her lips, tightening them as the hair on the nape of her neck began to tingle. She turned and looked over at Drake; he was whispering to himself and rubbing something between his index finger and his thumb. Sarah had the impression that he was trying to use some kind of hex. Closing her eyes she whispered, "Goblin King, I need you… now!" Drake let out a yelp, whatever had been between his fingers he tossed away swiftly. He stared at the object then at his fingers which were still affected by whatever had just taken place. Sarah whispered, "Thanks."

Johnson looked over at Drake with a peeved expression. "Until this afternoon I had no idea that Drake had difficulty with Miss Archy, and I was under the impression that she was a difficult student. All of her teachers have had… issues with her."

"Really," Mrs. Landry's brow rose, "There's no record of complaints."

Johnson's face turned red, "It was off record."

Mrs. Landry was not convinced. "I see," she made a notation and the Dean flinched, "What kind of issues?"

"The girl is… challenging. She challenges the authority of all her teachers." Johnson stated. "She's even been known to correct teachers!"

"Were they wrong," Mrs. Landry asked a bit too sweetly, and Johnson should have seen she was weaving a web.

"I… don't … know," he answered.

"I see," she made another notation. "Continue."

Johnson knew he was on shaky ground, he understood that the board was not going to side with him. "I'm not an art instructor," he stated with caution, "I had no reason to doubt Mr. Drake."

"Didn't you," asked Mr. Billson.

Johnson shrugged, "No."

Mrs. Landry tapped her pen on her note pad, "Dean Johnson, were you aware of the Archy girl's winning the art contest?"

He squirmed, "I may have heard something to that affect."

"Seeing it was in all the major papers as well as the local ones," Billson glowered, "I should hope you were aware. It's an important occasion when one of our students is given such accolades. It's important for the school as well as the student."

"Did you see that vile painting," Drake abruptly interrupted. "It's abominable and disgusting, just this side of pornographic! I have no doubt that these two girls are involved in something illicit."

Ann burst out laughing, "Sorry to disappoint you but Toots here is not my type!"

Sarah blushed but made no comment.

Mrs. Landry suppressed the smile that came to her lips, "Am I to understand that you find the painting objectionable?"

"Indeed I do," Drake stated coming forward. "It's indecent!"

"Do you find all nudes indecent or just the ones done by Miss Archy," Billson inquired.

Drake crossed his arms, instead of answering he took a stand, "This girl's work is shoddy, and because she has no talent goes for shock value instead of quality. That she won this rinky-dink contest does not surprise me. That masters from the Vatican would be impressed does, but I'm sure once they saw some of her other work…."

"They have," Robert said quietly.

Drake turned to him, wind taken a bit from his sail. "They what?"

"They have," Robert produced a form and handed it to the board, "Dr. Archy supplied me with this copy of his correspondence with the Vatican on behalf of his daughter. They had to supply the committee with several samples of Ann's work. Some from her study at the Louver, and a few of her more recent studies here." He showed a second paper to the board, "This is a copy of the invitation, and it states that they are impressed that so young a student is so advanced."

Drake demanded to see the paper, his face bleached as he read the response from the Vatican board. "I don't believe it."

Mrs. Landry turned to Ann, "It must be difficult for you having come from studying at the Louver and then being plucked down in the middle of a school like ours."

"It's been… an education," Ann said carefully.

"That's a polite answer," mused the woman before turning to the teacher. "Mr. Drake what is it that you find objectionable, I've seen the work done by Miss Archy first hand, and I found it to be inspirational."

"Do you have an art degree," the teacher sneered without thinking.

"As a matter of fact I do," she answered icily. "I studied at the Louver, and worked at the Met before I married… I am a patron of several art museums and am a member of the local art guild."

Robert cleared his throat, "I do have a witness that these two tried to railroad the Archy girl," he turned and motioned to a man sitting on the door. Two uniformed officers escorted in the secretary who had witnessed the afternoon's events. Her face looked very upset. "This is Dean Johnson's secretary, I had her subpoenaed."

Mrs. Landry noted the woman's lack of composure. "We thank you for coming to speak to us."

"She has nothing to say," the Dean shouted moving forward.

"Does she not," Billson asked.

"No!"

Robert motioned for the woman to take a seat at the table, "I'll ask you just one question, and remember lying is perjury. Did they try to tamper with the computer records after Sarah and Ann left this afternoon?" The woman who had taken a seat looked at Robert, then at Dean Johnson trying to find a way to answer without getting herself or him into hotter water. Robert reminded her and everyone else in the room, "I can call up the records."

"Yes," she whispered reluctantly.

Dean Johnson cursed softly, Drake closed his eyes, "We entered grades…so what?"

Robert brought up the records, "Drake you are on record for wishing to fail the student, and the Dean is on record as reluctantly passing the student."

"She deserves to fail," Drake defended his stance.

"Did she not complete the assignment?"

"She completed it," Drake groused.

Robert nodded to the man at the door once more, and a guard brought in the painting on its easel. "Demonstrate to us what about this painting does not meet the assignment."

Mrs. Landry stood up, she had a copy of the assignment in her hand, "Don't bother," she told Drake, "I doubt I trust your assessments," she moved to the painting, placing glasses on her nose and inspecting the painting herself. "This is very good," she said quietly, "nice brush strokes, good composition, good use of light and dark." She turned to Drake with distain, "Would I be as impressed by the other work you graded from this class?"

Drake kept himself from challenging the woman, "I have no idea." His words were surly, but he kept the rest of his opinion to himself.

Robert spoke without emotions, "Drake didn't even grade the work, just handed a pink failure paper to Ann."

"You didn't grade the work," challenged Mrs. Landry.

"He didn't," Robert said with confidence. "Think he'd be challenged."

"You expected this girl to just accept that she'd flunked a class she could take with her eyes shut?" A voice of another board member asked.

"You purposely flunked her," gasped another, "Out of some vindictive sense?"

Suddenly the board members were all arguing and the room was immersed in chaotic sounds. Dean Johnson looked worried, but Drake looked pleased, too pleased for Sarah's liking. He was up to something, and she had a feeling that whatever that charm was that he'd flung was at the heart of his being all to confident. "Jareth," she whispered, "Do something."

'It will cost you,' a voice in her head assured her.

'I don't care,' she responded.

'What's said is said,' he trilled.

"Do something," she repeated unobserved because of the distractions in the room, "Please."

'Of course,' the voice in her head said a bit too enthusiastically.

The room's shadows began to move. Sarah understood that the others in the room were unaware do to the chaos, but she saw Drake turn and give a startled gasp when a shadow darted across the floor. Sarah watched with a detached distance, feeling nothing. She watched as the shadows darted toward the teacher; her lower lip cruelly curling slightly at his discomfort.

Drake shouted suddenly, "Yes, I flunked her! I hate her…I hate her work, her talent… and I'd do it again!" The board stilled, only the shouts of the disturbed man were now heard. "I knew she had talent, and I hated her for winning that contest." He turned with a glare toward Sarah, "And if you'd kept your nose out of it, I'd have gotten away with it."

Mrs. Landry clasped her hands on the table, "Mr. Drake you are dismissed; clear out your desk, your locker and you needn't bother with tendering your resignation. Your last pay check will be in the mail come morning."She turned to Dean Johnson, "Have you anything to say?"

"Am I dismissed as well?" He asked dejectedly.

"Yes," the woman said firmly. "A dean is supposed to look out for the students, not work against them."

Robert pointed to the computer, "There's the matter of Miss Archy's grades."

"I'll tend to that," Mrs. Landry assured him, "The board and I thank you Robert for bringing this matter to our attention. Miss Archy I am deeply sorry for any inconvenience this has caused you. We wish you well in your journey to Rome and in your future endeavors."

"Thank you," Ann said standing up.

Drake was glaring at Sarah, "You'll pay for this Sarah Williams, mark my words."

Sarah looked at him, unimpressed, "No doubt I will." She agreed quietly. "But not by your hand."

Sarah followed her father and Ann out of the room aware that shadows were following her and that Drake was fearful of those shadows. She had made a bargain with the devil, but somehow seeing Drake's fear made it worth it. She simpered, strutting the hall toward the exit, "So when you get to Roma you intend to tell them what it took to get there?"

"Some things are better left unsaid," Ann answered softly.

Drake drove to the wooded area outside town; he parked his car and hiked into the woods. Reaching a circle of dead trees he called out, "Why did you leave me vulnerable?"

"We did not," a voice answered. "We gave you an amulet; you chose not to use it."

"How can I use what burns my hand," he demanded.

"That is not our concern."

"You never said that any others would fight for… that girl."

The voice that filled the woods laughed, "How naive you mortals are."

Drake balked, "Don't talk down to me! I agreed to do your dirty work so you could keep your hands clean! You started this!"

"And we can end it as well," the voice turned violent. Drake grabbed at his throat, his hands trying to remove something that was closing the air passage. "You are of no more use to us," the voice told the man who was dying. "You are now only another irrelevant mortal to be disposed of."

Sarah attached the leash to Merlin's collar, "I'm taking the dog for his walk," she announced.

"Don't' be long," Karen warned. "It's a school night."

Sarah headed to the park; she knew the Goblin King would be waiting in the swan glade. She could picture him leaning arrogantly on one of the granite monoliths. She could picture the self righteous smug expression and it rankled her that she had to thank him or be beholding to him. He was in the glen, but he was not propped up against the obelisk and his expression was anything but smug. He stood with one hand on his chin in thoughtful reflection as Sarah moved over the foot bridge. Looking up she could see his concern, "What's happened," she asked. "You look troubled."

"Sarah," he said her name as he always had, it came from his lips like a caress. His hand stayed at his chin, but his body became rigid and taut. "This attack on Ann and you…"

"I don't care about that," Sarah let go of the leash, her dog moved closer to the king but halted when the man stared him down. "I want to know what is~ vexing you."

Jareth smiled at her use of the ancient word, "We have enemies," he assured her, "Powerful ones."

"He was hexing us," she thought of Drake and the object in his hands, "But he was thrown off by the sudden appearance of goblins in that board room." She moved closer, "He'll make good on his threat," she was now worried, "Ann's in danger."

"He won't be making threats to anyone," Jareth said meaningfully.

"Did you.."

"Not I," he said boldly, "Not that I wouldn't move heaven and earth to protect you." Sarah's mouth dropped at his admission, "Shocked?" His tone was now amused, "I don't see why you should be."

"Don't you," she inquired boldly, "Were you not the one trying to put every obstacle in my way, right down to putting my life in jeopardy?"

The wind picked up, his cape flickered and fluttered. Slowly his hand moved from his chin to hers, "You were my foe, my opponent and rival, it's only natural that I worked to block you from succeeding."

"OH trying to kill me included?"

The hand moved to her neck, a gentle tug propelled her forward. The jaw line of the handsome king tightened, "I assure you that I am not prone to necrophilia."

Sarah looked up at him, "You are aware that I'm still only fifteen," she muttered.

"Age is meaningless," he assured her.

"Not to my father the lawyer," she teased.

Jareth smiled, "We've a binding contract," he reminded her.

"Yeah about that," she squirmed, "Just what do I owe you for today's rescue?"

Studying her eyes he toyed with the idea of making demands, and then suddenly he said, "I want you to dance with me."

"Dance with you," she gasped. "Here? There's no music…."

Jareth smiled and the air filled with the same hauntingly sad tune that had been playing in the Crystal Ballroom, "Isn't there?" He led her back to the path, sliding an arm about her waist. With the ease of one practiced in the art of ballroom dance he drew her into the steps they had preformed a year before. This time he didn't sing to her.

Sarah looked up at him, knowing he was within his rights to make any demand he wished. That he desired to but dance with her made her feel a bit helpless in defending herself from him. "Thank you," she said shyly.

"You're welcome," he answered courtly; "Sarah."

"I do appreciate what you did for Ann," She murmured.

"I did it for you," he corrected.

"At a cost," she lamented.

"Payment will not be too painful," he teased.

"Goblin King," she whispered.

"Jareth," he corrected her.

"What?"

"Jareth," he repeated, "It's my name."

"I'm aware."

"Use it."

"I don't think so…." She blushed.

"Why not," he asked amused.

"Because when I do…" she shivered as she spoke, "It always costs me…"

"Payment in future will be very pleasant," he teased.

"I doubt that you'll be asking me to just dance," she protested.

"Ah dear Sarah," he crooned, "There's dancing and then there's dancing…." His eyes twinkled with merry mischief as the girl in his arms glanced at him in utter shock at his racy suggestion. He stopped dancing, "The hour grows late," he said courteously, "For now we must part ways… you to your home, I to mine… but Beltane will be upon us in days, and we will continue this~ dance."

Sarah made no effort to move, "Beltane," she whispered.

"Beltane," Jareth repeated gently, "`Til then, good night my sweet Sarah."

"Good night," the girl hesitated then shyly murmured, "Jareth."

Pleased, he raised one of her hands, bent over it and placed his lips to it. "Sweet dreams."

Sarah gathered the dog's leash off the ground and looked over her shoulder at the man, "More like pleasant nightmares," she teased.