The fresh blood spilling from Lenna's wounds caught his eye. He couldn't stop staring at it. The wounds he'd made, back to haunt him.
'No,' he thought to himself grimly, 'the wounds that she made.'
A spark of life returned to his eyes and his jaw clenched.
"There is nothing left to fight for! His time is up! Your king has lost his form and his life is not far behind. One of your humans is already dead and Xaiden is mine. You two are no match for me now. Surrender and I will make this transition to a new ruler as painless as possible for you."
"No!" Mannonda yelled as the cleared the top of the barricade. "He would want us to keep fighting, so that's what we'll do!"
The witch's evil smile broadened. "Xaiden, my pet," she said looking over at him, "take care of them."
Xaiden gave one nod and shifted to move his foot forward. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the witch look back at Mannonda. Drawing his sword, he turned and plunged it into the witch's side. He felt the same thrill he'd felt when he'd killed Lenna, except, this time, he knew the thrill was his own.
"That's for my brother," he growled, pulling the sword out of her.
The witch's hands flew to her side and she looked at him, her eyes wide with genuine surprise. "My pet," she gasped.
Xaiden plunged his sword into her stomach, twisting it and pushing it in further.
"That's for me."
He pulled his sword back to him and grabbed her shoulder when he saw her stumble back to keep her standing. He met the ice in her eyes with the fire in his, then spun her around and plunged his sword into her back, the blade sliding easily through her chest and kept going until it was stopped by the hilt. He grabbed her shoulder and pulled her back against him.
"And that's for Lenna," he hissed into her ear before pushing her forward and dragging his sword out of her as she fell to the ground.
Turning, he ran to the barricade and, taking on his falcon form, flew to the top, switching back to his normal form when he reached Lenna. He put his hand behind her neck and propped her back up. Blood trailed from the pool that was in her mouth.
He went to check her pulse, but found nothing.
Jareth's breathing had become shallow and it wasn't until his hand fell away from her face that she noticed the feathers. On his remaining breaths, he was transforming into his owl form. She tried to cling to him, tried to hold on to his previous form, but to no avail. His body shrunk and his clothes were replaced by feathers.
"This can't be a dream," she choked out. "It's been too real!" She absently stroked the soft feathers of the owl that lay in front of her, its little heart racing, its body limp.
She slumped to the ground in sobs, clinging to the owl. "You can't leave me," she wailed. "I love you," made its way through her lips, surprising some part of her in the recesses of her mind, the rest of her too occupied by grief to notice.