Chapter Eight

Sarah's mouth was a warm press against his own, her flesh searing hot, almost feverish.

For a moment, Jareth let the kiss happen, falling into it as surely as she did and kissing her back with every ounce of passion he had for her. Gods, the taste of you. Hunger roared in him, deeper and more intense than he could have imagined, crying out for more.

His hand plunged into her hair, tilting her face up to his, and he felt the thread of fae magic which held her in thrall. It spilled past her lips and into him, its power like a long-lost lover.

Breaking away with a gasp, Jareth ignored Sarah's sounds of protest and her insistent touches at his shoulders and the back of his neck. Instead, he guided her to one of the tall stone walls encircling her garden, pressing her against it with his body before pulling her hands away from him, grasping both her wrists in one hand and pinning them.

His heart pounded with what he was about to do, but there was no helping it. Sarah whimpered, arching toward him, her eyes still unfocused and wild. "Hush now," he said. "Look at me, my love."

She did, and the raw need there made him want to fall to his knees, to release her so he could taste every inch of her, but he could not. She's not all here.

Still clamped down on her wrists, holding them tight, Jareth tugged off his right glove with his teeth, letting it drop before he held his bare hand over the medallion gleaming at her throat, concentrating his magic.

The pendant began to glow under his fingertips like a miniature sun shielded behind the moon.

Sarah's eyes cleared as soon as the light receded, and her mouth fell open with a cry of sudden shock. Her body grew rigid.

She tried to move away, but she was pinned between him and the wall. "Calm down," he said over the gentle buzz of bees and continued fall of water from the fountain behind them. "Listen to me." He rested his bare hand on the stone over her head, leaning into his grip as she started to struggle. "Sarah," he pleaded. "Please."

It must have been the please which did it, for she finally stopped struggling, though he could see the pulse jumping in her throat. "What happened?" she asked, her voice high and panicked.

"I'll tell you everything you wish to know, but I need you to do something for me first." She looked up at him and nodded, her lower lip trembling. He smiled a little, trying to reassure her. "I'm going to release you, but I need you to stay still. Can you do that?"

"I think so."

"Good." Jareth removed the hand pinning her wrists, and stepped away from her. He bent, retrieved his fallen glove, and slipped it on with a practiced motion. He took another step back, knowing she would need her space, before giving her a slight nod. "Thank you, Sarah. You can move now."

###

Sarah pushed herself away from the wall, limbs trembling. It was as though she had woken from a night of heavy drinking, only the hazy memories were from moments ago, not hours. Her lips throbbed and pulsed in time with her heartbeat, and she resisted the urge to touch them, to trace the places where he had kissed her like he was drowning, and she the only breath available to him.

She clutched her cloak around her and squeezed her legs tight, her core heated and slick with need.

It was only a kiss.

But it felt... oh, gods it felt amazing.

Jareth watched her, arms loose at his sides, and she could tell by his stance that he was trying not to frighten her.

"It was like I had no control over it," she stammered, teeth chattering. My love, he had said to her, his voice like silk. He can't have said that. He couldn't have meant it.

"Here," Jareth held out a large stoneware mug filled with a steaming liquid which had not been there a moment ago. "Tea. It always helps."

Her smile was watery, but she took the offered cup, her chilled fingers warming the moment they came into contact with the heated sides. She blew on the surface of the tea and inhaled the spicy-sweet scent. "Is this chai?"

"Not exactly, but close enough. My own blend." He nodded toward it. "Drink."

She did, though some of the hairs on the back of her neck stood up at his ordering her around. The tea was sharp on her tongue, tasting of exotic spices and smoked black leaves. It heated her down to her core as she gulped it down, hot but not burning. She found after downing half the mug that she did feel better. Profoundly so. She looked at him. "Can you explain what happened? Where are we?"

"Still in the Labyrinth and yes, I think so." He motioned to the gardens. "We need to keep moving."

"Give me a minute more. I'm still shaky," Sarah admitted, flushing. She went to one of the garden beds and sat on the edge, looking around. "It's beautiful here."

"It's never existed before now," Jareth said, following her and crouching on the flagstones, expression pensive. His eyes were swirling, colliding colors, and she wanted to ask him why they were doing that—she wanted to ask so many things—but he was talking again, looking up at her with those strange colored irises. "You created this place."

"Me?"

He nodded toward her throat, "With that to guide you."

She reached up to touch the medallion, but Jareth caught her hand, lowering it to her side before releasing her. Just that brief touch was enough to send her heart racing. I wish you would kiss me again. Aloud, she said, "What are you doing?"

His gaze was long, searching, as though he were trying to read something off her face. "This amulet is crafted from fae materials, using fae techniques and imbued with our magic. It was created in the same instance as the Goblin Kingdom and the Labyrinth itself. It has a mind of its own, but it can meld with the desires of its owner—which would be you, in this case."

Sarah touched the glossy green stalk of a bird of paradise. "I made this?"

"The amulet did most of the work but, yes, in a way, you did." His expression darkened. "But fae magic has a price. It's intoxicating, addicting. It gives the user a sense of omnipotence, regardless of their mortality." He motioned at himself. "It is why you acted in the way you did."

She blinked. "So... it drugged me?"

"After a fashion, yes. I've sealed its powers for now until I can teach you something about how to control the magic. Lighting candles is one thing, but creating an entire garden amid the Labyrinth? This was a great deal of power you channeled."

Sarah let out a breath. So it wasn't all me. Not really.

Liar, another part of her mind whispered. You've wanted to do that and more since he brought you here, and you know it. She flushed again and looked at him through her lashes. "Is that why you stopped the kiss? Because I—"

"You were in thrall," he interrupted, rising and turning from her. "There is no true substance to being with a woman when she isn't in control. As it is, when next we kiss, it will be because you ask for it."

She leaped to her feet, mug forgotten on the ledge of the garden bed. "Excuse me? I'm engaged, asshole. Engaged! Does the word mean nothing where you're from?"

Jareth laughed, his eyes back to the usual blue and brown when he looked at her, sparkling with mischief. "Ah, yes, the epic love story of the man and woman who lived together so long it was more convenient to be wed than to not. How could I have forgotten?"

Sarah knew he was goading her, but she could not help it. She stalked up to him. "I'm never going to ask you to kiss me."

He raised one of his uplifted eyebrows. "Is that so? Care to make a wager?"

"May as well, because it's never going to happen."

Jareth grinned, sharp teeth flashing. "Very well. If you ask me to kiss you, I get to decide where."

She put her hands on her hips and knew she was practically glowing red at this point, blood hot beneath her flesh. "And if you beg to kiss me? What then?"

"Me, beg you? Very well, precious, what would you have of me?" He sounded more indulgent than anything, which raised her ire further.

Wracking her brain, Sarah smirked. "Fine. If you beg me, then when you regain your throne, you'll have to admit you lost in front of your entire kingdom."

He laughed. "As you wish." His smile was infectious, and Sarah found her own lips quirking upward. "Shall we go?"

###

Several exits were leading off the garden. Sarah picked one, and once they were through the gleaming stone archway, the Labyrinth showed its dark nature once more. The malevolent presence of Kozack's magic was a greasy film against Jareth's skin. He looked sidelong at the woman who walked at his side, the medallion reflecting a dull, reddish cast from the sun.

She was able to cleanse a part of it. The Labyrinth let her create something within its walls.

The atmosphere in the garden had been one of serenity, and if he retained the ability to feel the presence of his kingdom in his mind, he was sure it would have felt satisfied there. Content. Just as he had been.

Sarah now seemed different—somehow more solid—compared to how she had been when he had first dragged her back into this world. Careful not to touch the pendant at her throat, he could see she often had the desire to do so. He was not sure how long the binding he had placed on it would stay in place and feared in desperation, the pull to use the power of the medallion would be too strong, and the hasty spellwork would break.

Yet, every piece of fae lore and history he had read said a mortal could never channel this much magic without serious consequences. Their minds would shatter at the least, but more often than not, their weaker bodies would simply be unable to control the vast current rushing through them and would shut down. Sarah had suffered a kind of magical overload, not uncommon in young fae first coming into the flush of their power, but she still smelled and felt like a mortal woman.

Something did not add up.

They walked through a maze of sloping steps and switchbacks, their progress slow. The eye fungus from earlier grew here in excess, blood dripping from them like tears to pool on the ground. They side-stepped the puddles where they could, and once Jareth lifted Sarah over one when her stride was too short to accommodate the leap. Neither of them said anything, silently agreeing it would be best not to let the red liquid touch them.

The walls were split with great, wide cracks, and the path they walked, when not drenched in blood, was covered in stone dust. Jareth's eyes rose to the top parapets and saw they were rounded as though they had been worn away from wind over centuries. This should never happen so quickly. What game is Kozack playing at? Does he wish to be king over nothing?

The light began to dim, the sickly red sun sinking into the horizon. Jareth kept an eye on it, his frustration mounting. They had to be faster than this if he hoped to preserve those who had been lost during Kozack's reign and if he had any hope of winning the challenge in time.

"Jareth," Sarah said, stopping short. "What's that?"

Jareth looked to where she pointed and saw a creature, shrouded in mist, reclined on the top of a staircase. Its body took up the entire width of the grand landing, its paws folded down in front of it, its wide black almond-shaped eyes reflecting the crimson glow of the dimming sunlight. His breath left him in a soft sigh. "The sphinx."

The creature nodded its head toward him, a curtain of glossy black hair falling over its bare shoulders. It was large and beautiful.

Sarah looked entranced by the mythical beast. Jareth, who had only seen this one from afar, the sphinx, a rare creature who owed only tertiary allegiance to the goblin kingdom, was awed. Here, finally, something untouched by the usurper.

Sarah stepped forward, her gait hesitant. "Hello," she called to it. "Is this the way to the castle?"

The sphinx smiled, its teeth pearly white and pointed, its voice a low, husky rumble. "Yes. It is the only way which remains to you."

Jareth moved so he was level with Sarah. "May we pass?"

The creature sighed, ending in a loud purr which reverberated in its tawny-gold chest. "First, you must answer my riddles three. If your answers are sound, you may pass. If they are not, I will devour you."

Sarah sucked in a breath.

###

The light disappeared. It was like the moment outside of the Labyrinth, sudden and absolute. Her hands flung out, but instead of finding Jareth's reassuring fingers, she found the slick, cold walls of—

It's an oubliette.

Her heart started to race, throat going dry when she heard a rasp from behind her and she whirled, almost losing her balance in the dark. I'm not alone in here.

"Sarah?"

There was the striking sound of a match, and she turned toward the source of the light, squinting against the glare of the candle before her eyes widened in shock. "Michael?"

He was kneeling on the floor in front of her, the knees of his trousers coated in dust and torn, his suit jacket shredded and a bloody gash above one eye. Sarah went to him, her hand hovering over the injury. Relief at the familiar and fear for his safety warred for dominance in her mind.

She tried to smile and found she could not. "What happened to you?

Michael winced away from her hand, and she withdrew. "I don't know. I was on my way to the airport, and I was here, and there were these things in the dark."

Sarah looked around. "Are they still here?"

"No, they left. I found the matches and the candle, but I've been saving them. I don't know how long I've been down here. I'm thirsty."

"I don't have anything with me," Sarah said. "But we'll get out of here. I think there's a door hidden somewhere."

"A door? How would you know? Babe, have you been here before?"

She flinched at the endearment. She always hated the word. But when she looked at him, truly, at how his brown hair was coated in dust and cobwebs, and his eyes were wide with panic and shock. Aside from the gash on his forehead, he appeared unharmed. "I've been here before," she soothed. "But it's a long story. Let's focus on getting out first."

Sarah felt a rush of emotion, of the desire to keep him safe. Not, some part of her whispered, to have him sweep you up into his arms. You want someone else to do that. As though to kill that part of her, she leaned in and embraced him, reveling for a moment in the sense of the familiar.

But then she stilled.

He smelled wrong.

When she pulled away, Michael was looking at her with hard beetle-black eyes. She stood and took a step back, looking down at him. She checked the closure on her cloak, but it was hiding the amulet. She had the feeling she did not want this creature to see she possessed it. "You're not Michael."

Kozack shed the illusion and rose, almost of a height with her. He let the candle go, and it floated in midair between them, a reminder of the power he held in this place. He smiled at her, exposing yellowing teeth. "You're quick on the uptake. What gave me away?"

"The smell."

"Ah," he tilted his head. "Curious that a human would be so focused on scent."

She repressed a shudder at his smile and the sound of his voice, deep and gravely. Her skin felt sticky where she had touched him, and she resisted the urge to wipe her palms against her leggings to chase the phantom feeling away. "What do you want?"

"A quick chat. Don't worry, Jareth won't notice you've gone. I'll pop you back up there the second we're done speaking, and it will be like no time has passed at all."

She raised her eyebrows. "You're telling me you can control time?"

Kozack spread his arms, and the walls of the oubliette began to glow a sickly red color. She side-stepped away from the low sloping ceiling she had been near, hesitant to touch the stuff. "It is my kingdom."

A sour taste filled her mouth. Not for long if I have anything to do with it. "You have my attention. What do you want?"

"A terrible injustice has befallen you, Sarah Williams. As champion, you should be showered with riches and honors, not dragged along on a half-cocked quest for the throne." He leered at her, the scars on his face crinkling. "It was terribly discourteous of Jareth to take you without permission."

Sarah said nothing but crossed her arms over her stomach.

Kozack narrowed his eyes. "I can see he has told you tales of me. What has he said? I am a terrible ruler, an evil which must be stamped out at all cost?" he laughed. "Long have we suffered and lived under the fae. No more."

She scowled at him. "You forget, I've seen your handiwork firsthand. The worm?" Kozack said nothing. "The Wiseman, Ludo, Sir Didymus? Do you remember any of them? And look what's happening to the Labyrinth! You're destroying it."

Kozack tilted his head and gave a small shrug. "It is my kingdom, Sarah. Do you want it all restored? I will do this for you, and much more besides. Whatever you desire will be yours in exchange for one, small favor."

She paused before she opened her mouth to yell at him, her ire over his nonchalance at the death of her friends coating her tongue with a bitter taste. She swallowed and put her hands on her hips. "What do you want?"

The goblin reached into his leather armor and extracted a short, thin vial out of a pouch with a small brass clasp. He held it aloft by its wax seal. "Pour this into Jareth's drink and walk away. That's all I need from you."

Sarah eyed the vial. "What does it do?"

"Do you really want to know? What it will do is restore you to your home if you wish. Or," Kozack looked her over in the light of the floating candle, and she knew this particular look in any man's gaze. "A throne of your own? I have yet to take a queen, and you did feel sweet in my arms."

Sarah shuddered, and Kozack laughed, then shrugged once again.

"I'll take that as a 'no,' but the offer stands. How I could improve your life is endless, Champion. All you need do is put this into his drink and walk away. Do this, and all you could ever want will be yours."

He held out the vial.

Sarah shook her head. "I've heard these kinds of promises before. What would come afterward? You would continue to corrupt this place? Slaughter its people? What makes you think I'll allow it?"

"Oh-ho, here comes another outsider to tell the goblins how to rule themselves," Kozack sneered. "Are you as bad as him? What do you know of what this kingdom needs?"

"I know a kingdom is only as good as its citizens, and you've twisted and corrupted them, killed them!" she shouted, taking a step forward. "Now you're saying you'll reverse that for me. Why?"

"You're the Champion," he said, as though that explained everything. "Ask Jareth what that means and see if he'll tell you. Now," his face hardened. "You will fail if you do not take this offer. Your bones will decorate my Labyrinth for the rest of time. Or," he shook the offered vial. "You walk away."

Sarah regarded him for a moment, hesitated, and plucked the vial from his fingers.

The goblin grinned. "I take it this means yes?"

She slid the tiny container into a pocket at her hip and ignored his gaze. "It's probably best if I get back."

The usurper smiled again, a hideous gleam in his black eyes. "Remember, Sarah, all you need do is walk away."

Author's Note:

Hello all you lovely people.

I just can't help posting early sometimes. Today is in celebration of a major shift. I'm not going to "announce" anything just yet, BUT... I'm happy? Excited? A bit petrified, to be honest, but still more elated than anything.

I just wanted to tell you and celebrate by posting a chapter.

Another will be up on Thursday.

xoxo,

CrimsonSympathy