Dimensional magic is a fascinating field and just happens to be my area of expertise. Most Fae with magical abilities can alter reality to some extent, but I am able to bend the fabric of Time and Space to fit my needs and whims. Of course, this was acquired after several millennia of intense study and diligent practice. It was well worth the effort. My kingdom, the Goblin Kingdom, is renowned as a place of warped reality, misdirection and altered perception. A person may think they are climbing an ascending staircase only to find themselves headed downward or sideways. The great Labyrinth ringing my castle and acting as a barrier between my subjects and would-be invaders is replete with illusions and spatial anomalies. Shifting paths, seemingly endless passageways and deceptive doors lead anyone within its walls on a maddening journey deeper and deeper, yet farther and farther from their goal.
My greatest skill, however, lies in spatial manipulation. I can nestle enormous amounts of magical energy within very small objects. The humans may boast of their atomic bomb, but I have the ability to create an even greater level of destruction, and with a much narrower and specific focus. The device I had created to annihilate the humans was a very small orb, a tiny scrap of ore from a meteor the shape and size of a marble. However, I had imbued it with enough magical energy to wipe every human off the face of the earth. Plants and animals would not be harmed in the slightest, but humanity would be eradicated. While the parameters of the device were set to be very specific, there was still a slight danger posed to me should the device activate while I was still in the human realm. It was crucial for me to find the device as soon as possible.
I was understandably upset then, that first blustery day in the tiny town of Miracle, when upon magically sensing the location of the device, I set out to find where it had landed only to discover that it was no longer there. The trail of footprints left in the muddy slush around the area took me on an infuriating ramble back and forth through the thick forest until it faded and disappeared completely under a new covering of snow. The magical signature of the device faded with the trail and I could no longer sense it. Enraged, I stomped back toward the town, cursing under my breath and even more determined to exterminate every last human.
Which brings me to today, February 4th. I have reluctantly settled in Miracle, having set myself up in a relatively comfortable cabin situated on a forested coast far from the infuriating inhabitants of the town. I rarely see anyone, save the delivery guy from the local sandwich shop. My physical needs are met. Human currency is simple to conjure, and while I'm probably adding to inflation by magicking up large quantities of American cash, I figure it doesn't really matter. The humans infesting this land will all be dead soon anyway. Besides, the American economy is already shit.
I had cloistered myself away in my forest cabin for the better part of three months while I tried to put together a course of action to find and reclaim my device. I read all of the books on the shelves. Most of them seemed to be aimed at tourists staying in the rental, detailing the so-called "rich history of the area" and describing local landmarks and "must-see features." There was a book about local legends and folklore that was mildly entertaining. I was somewhat intrigued by the stories of the spirits of indigenous peoples as well as the restless souls of martyred witches that are believed to haunt the forests that line the coast and surround the town.
Having read all of the books, I turned my attention to the television. I was familiar with the phenomenon that was human entertainment: insipid dramas, reality shows that were far from real, game shows and sit-coms. They all left me cold. Still, I had nothing better to do, so I found myself getting pulled into a number of absurd programs. One in particular got my wheels turning. The show centered around a rather crotchety doctor with a substance abuse problem and the many bizarre medical cases brought into the hospital in which he was employed. While other medical professionals would be stumped by the patient's ailments, the drug-addled doctor always managed to find a solution and cure, oftentimes mere moments away from the patient dying.
As laughable as the premise of the show was, I couldn't help but be intrigued by the level of intimacy granted to the disagreeable doctor simply by virtue of his profession. He was able to ask incredibly personal questions of his patients and, while not always truthful, they didn't flinch at his familiarity. The doctor was also afforded close physical contact with patients, going so far as to be able to see them without their clothing and exam orifices that would be off limits to anyone else.
This made me consider my situation differently. Rather than hermiting away in my cabin, perhaps getting up close and personal with the humans would be a better way to locate my device. If I were a doctor, I could ask personal questions of the townspeople and even poke around on their bodies without arousing suspicion. I would certainly have no trouble playing the part; human anatomy was absurdly uncomplicated.
It was clear to me that my Fae kinsmen were in no rush to come to my aid, though I understood their reasoning. As far as they knew, destruction was imminent. They could hardly be expected to put the Fae realm at risk by opening the Veil even a little. It was up to me alone to see the mission through and get myself back home, but thanks to my little television epiphany, I now had a plan of action.
The mayor of Miracle nearly choked on his salami on rye when I told him why I was there.
"A doctor?!" he managed to sputter when he finally stopped wheezing.
"Yes," I replied, flicking off a few stray crumbs of rye that he'd hacked all over my leather jacket. "I've only been in town a short while, but now that I'm settled I thought I would offer my services."
"Well, I'll be damned," said the mayor, shaking his balding head. "This is some luck!"
"I'm afraid I don't understand," I told him.
"There's not a doctor that lives here in Miracle," he explained. "Not since old Dr. O'Connor kicked the bucket several years ago. We've had a doctor driving in from Salem a few times a month, but that last snowstorm we had cut off part of the road between there and here. He won't be able to get back to town until the snow melts off."
"So… my services are greatly needed." I didn't phrase it as a question. There was no doubt on my part.
"Most definitely," the mayor confirmed. "Of course, I'll need to see proper credentials before I set you up in the clinic."
"Of course," I answered with a smile. Credentials were child's play.
The mayor offered a meaty hand. "Well then, welcome to Miracle, Dr…" He looked at me expectantly, waiting for me to supply my name. Obviously addled by my crash, I had stupidly given the female my true name my first day in town. However, until that moment I had not even considered a surname. I thought of all the doctor names I had heard on television: House, McCoy, Who, Fleischman… I couldn't use any of those without appearing suspicious.
"Jones," I said at last, deciding the name sounded sufficiently unassuming. "My name is Dr. Jareth Jones."
"I'm Robert Williams," said the mayor, vigorously shaking my hand. "But feel free to call me Bob. Mind if I call you J.J.?"
"Jareth will do," I told him, extricating my hand from his grip. Perhaps I should have held on to his hand since he then proceeded to smack me hard on the back.
"The folks in Miracle sure are going to be happy about this," he proclaimed. "They've been badgering me to get a new town doctor ever since O'Connor croaked. Honestly, I tried. There just aren't many professional types who want to settle in a small town like this. What brings you here anyway?"
"Circumstance," I replied with a grimace.
The mayor laughed and smacked me across the back again and I made a note to put him on my list of humans to kill first, just above whoever designed those creepy inflatable tube-men that wave from car lots, but a few spaces down from the Kardashians.
"Your circumstance is our good fortune, Doc," he chuckled, moving toward a coat rack and throwing on a thick parka. "It's almost noon. Why don't we head over to the diner and grab some lunch? I'll even pick up the tab."
"That's very kind, but I must decline," I told him. "I need to-" I was interrupted by a pale, blonde woman in a lavender pantsuit barging into the mayor's office dragging a young boy along behind her.
"Robert!," she snapped, completely ignoring my presence, "I need you to look after Toby while I get my nails done. I asked your daughter to babysit, but as usual she said she doesn't have time."
"Irene-" the mayor tried to answer but the woman chattered on.
"Toby hates the nail salon and I have nothing else to do with him and I simply must get my nails done today." She dragged out the final word in a nasally whine that made my teeth hurt and my ass clench.
"Irene, I'm in the middle of an important meeting," the mayor was finally able to reply. He gestured toward me. "This is the new town doctor, Dr. Jareth Jones."
"It's about time you got one," she said after giving me a quick sideways glance. "Mrs. Edelmann and the rest of the town council have been asking for one for ages and that quack from Salem was hardly a long-term solution…"
The woman blustered on and I tuned her out, turning my attention instead toward the young boy at her side. He was completely engaged in his handheld device, from which noises of gunfire and explosions were issuing, and had not looked up from the screen since being yanked into the office by his mother. I couldn't fault the poor fellow for choosing to focus on his game rather than that shrill Harpy.
"Besides," Irene's voice cut through my musings, "Toby is overdue for a check-up." She looked back at me and put her hands on her hips. "Just as long as you don't try to fill him full of unnecessary vaccines or other pseudoscientific treatments."
"I-" I started to reply, but at that moment the young boy looked up from his game and followed his mother's gaze. As his eyes landed on me, they went wide and the color drained from his face. There was a moment of deafening silence before the boy let out such a high-pitched screech that I was certain he was going to shatter the glass in the windows. Dropping his game, he turned and fled from the office, but not before delivering a swift kick to my right shin.
"The fuck?" I cursed, bending down to rub my aching leg.
"Are you okay?" the mayor asked as he rushed to my side. "I'm sorry," he continued. "I have no idea why he would act like that."
"It's fine," I answered through gritted teeth. But it wasn't fine. I knew why the boy had reacted the way he did. Somehow, he could see through my glamour. He knew who and what I really was. This was not good.
Seemingly nonplussed by the whole scene, Irene looked at her watch and scowled. "I've got to go or I'll be late for my appointment."
"What?" asked her husband. "You're leaving? What about Toby?"
Irene waved him off. "Unless you can coax your daughter into lifting a finger, you'll just have to go after him and keep him entertained."
My skin crawled at the way she said "your daughter" as if it were something distasteful.
"She's got her hands full at the clinic, dear. You know that," said the mayor.
"Yes well, now that you've found us a doctor, she won't have that as an excuse," Irene called over her shoulder as she bustled out the door.
Robert Williams turned to me and sighed. "Are you married, Doc?" he asked.
"No," I replied.
He muttered something that sounded like "lucky bastard" but covered it by excusing himself to chase after his son. I hobbled after him as he left his office building and scurried down the sidewalk to where the boy had crawled under one of the decorative benches. My eyes narrowed to slits watching the pudgy, balding man attempting to coax his wayward child out of hiding with promises of ice cream.
Device or no device, I had a new Public Enemy Number One. I mentally moved Donald Trump out of the top spot on my kill list. The boy could see my true form and was therefore the greatest danger to the success of my mission. I didn't know how he was able to see past my glamour, but how didn't matter. He could see and expose me and I could not allow that to happen.
Toby Williams had to die.
A/N:
The television show Jareth watches is "House M.D."
Jareth's chosen surname is, of course, an homage to our own dear David Jones. I also love the thought of people calling him J.J.
I've chosen to go with the name Irene for Sarah's stepmother rather than Karen. Ironically, Irene is the embodiment of the "Karen" stereotype, anti-vax and all.
Sarah makes another appearance in the next chapter, so there will be lots of J/S interaction and witty banter. Don't nope out on me just yet.
~Fanny~
