Mothers were a mystery to Sarah.
Her track record with mother figures in her life was lacking, as her therapy sessions had led her to realize. There was her own mother, a woman she now saw only in tabloids or the occasional film preview. The last communication the two had was a congratulatory card for her college graduation, penned by her publicist and containing a small amount of cash. Her mother had become a stranger, someone she never spoke of even when her friends gushed over seeing her latest film venture.
Then there was Karen, her stepmother, a woman with whom she had an uneasy truce since her return from the Labyrinth. Teenage Sarah saw her as a villain, but the older she grew, the more she understood the woman's protective attitude and awkward attempts to bond with her new stepdaughter. Apart from once a week when she briefly spoke to Karen and her father after returning Toby home, she never interacted with the older woman. Neither seemed to mind, enjoying instead to keep their relationship politely distant.
Thus, Sarah was utterly out of her element while sitting in front of Maria. The woman barely looked older than she did, and yet was the mother of the last person she suspected to have any family altogether. The two had made it down the hall and into a room resembling some kind of library, based on the floor-to-ceiling shelves of books that lined the room. The furthest wall from the door was graced with a window facing the Labyrinth, and if she squinted, Sarah swore she could see the very hill that marked her earlier entrance into the Underground. Two wine-red baroque couches occupied the middle of the candlelit room, with a solid, knee-high oak table between them to create a much-needed buffer zone.
The two women took a seat on the opposing couches, each eyeing the other without a word. After a moment, Maria leaned forward and moved a hand in the air in front of her quickly, as if drawing something. As Sarah watched, a white glowing line trailed from her fingertips in the shape of two wine glasses and a long-necked wine bottle, before all three shapes shone, much like the doorway from earlier. Then, they were simply there: two empty glasses, and a green glass bottle that Maria picked up and examined with pursed lips.
"It's strange," she murmured as she turned the bottle to see the label, "I can make the wine, but the year is always out of my control." She wiped what Sarah swore was chalk dust off her fingertips, then poured red wine into each glass and handed one to Sarah with a smile. "So. I suspect you have questions."
Mothers were a mystery to Sarah. Mothers with magical powers, with magical sons? Perhaps even more of a mystery.
Despite feeling out of her depth, Sarah's first question came easily. "What year is the wine?"
Maria blinked, then let out a hearty laugh. "Now I understand what my son meant when he said you were different from the others. This vintage is from 1799, a year of much significance."
"Oh?"
"It was the year my son was born."
Silence. Sarah took a long sip from her glass. Then another. Maria handed her the bottle without comment as she poured a refill, then thought better of drinking it. "Okay," sighed Sarah, "so when you say 'your son,' you're talking about...you mean Jareth is..."
"Nearly two hundred years old, yes. Although it feels like he was a baby only yesterday."
"You're human though. I mean, not to be rude, but you both look..." Sarah gestured at Maria in exasperation. "Well, you look younger than him. How the hell did that happen? How can you just...poof things into existence? If you have magic, can't you just set everything right?" Her voice went higher, the questions piling up one after another as she frantically tried to wrap her mind around every new development. "Why am I even here—I can't do magic, I can't cure my friends, I barely managed to make it through the Labyrinth the first time I was here!"
Exhausted, Sarah slumped back on the couch, as Maria raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps it would be easiest," she murmured, "to start with the simplest questions." She lifted her free hand in examination, curling her fingers to peek at her cuticles. "You noted before that I was human, and you are correct. However, the Labyrinth leaves its marks on those that race against it, and in my case, I developed my own kind of power. I can reshape what is around me, encourage it to be something different than before—nothing on the level of my son, but something that is uniquely my own. It's a reminder of my time here, and of my earlier adventure and failure."
The names and titles Jareth had rattled off rang through Sarah's mind. "Wait, but Jareth called you a Runner of the Labyrinth."
"He did, and he was correct. It was a different landscape then, one more dangerous than the land my son took over. I raced against time, through dangers untold, and with my power as great as the one who had upended my life. But, I am simply a Runner, not a Champion like you. Despite all I went through, despite the power I found to fight for my child, despite destroying the Owl King and leading the goblins in rebellion...I failed."
At this point, Sarah felt like she fought the hydra of Greek legend—for every question she asked, two more sprung up in its place. "Okay, I feel like I'm missing some major information here. You're telling me that the Goblin King, your son, was wished away? I always thought he just...I don't know, popped out of the ground. What even is he—human? Some kind of Fae?" A laugh forced its way out of her throat. "I mean, for crying out loud, how is he British?"
His mother's only response was to shrug. "He's Jareth. There is simply no one quite like him, in your world or in the Underground."
The point she made was fair, and Sarah listened in silence as the redhead continued. "Neither of us are from this world—I grew up in Venice as a maid before I met my husband. Days back then were filled with parties and dreams, and I had everything I ever wanted. Yet, the love of my life believed that we would lose all we had, and worried over the tarnishing of his family name." She paused to smirk at a memory only she could see. "I see much of him in my son: both have such passion and pride in their family, and in who they are. My husband was the one who made that fateful wish, and I decided to run the Labyrinth for the life of my child. The ruler at the time was..."
She trailed off, causing Sarah to prompt her with the name Jareth had mentioned before. "The Owl King, right?"
"Yes, a terrible goblin of great power, one who was twisted and scheming in a way that had become the norm. But it would take time to tell of all that occurred with him. What is important is that the clock struck thirteen, and Jareth had to remain despite the defeat of the Owl King. Thus, I stayed with my child and built my own dream to reside in." Maria swirled the wine in her glass, lost in memory as the red liquid whirled. "Now the dream I hold is fading, and if it goes, I'll lose everything I've ever loved."
With a heavy clunk, she placed her wine glass on the table and leaned forward to fix Sarah with a hard gaze. The resemblance between herself and her son was suddenly uncanny. "We need you, Sarah, because you are not me, and you are not my son. I cannot reshape the Labyrinth to match the rate of what is being lost, and Jareth finds his own powers slipping away day by day. You are the only individual who has ever won, and at this point, we have no other option left but to ask for your help. It is all we can do now."
Again the silence returned, but tension hung heavy in the air. The wine, despite the quality, went untouched. Sarah took care in the words she uttered. "What do you need me to do?"
"In a way, you need to do what you did the first time: go to the center of the Labyrinth."
"But I thought this was the center!"
"Once it was, but things change. Your victory flipped this world into something completely different, and now the Labyrinth is larger, perhaps more treacherous than ever before. My son mentioned to me that he believes the center of the Labyrinth is where whatever is causing this trouble lies. Perhaps with your companions, you can once more find the center."
Sarah looked briefly out the window, considering this information. "What about you? If you come with me, I won't have to worry about my friends...well, I guess I won't have to worry about them ending up like Hoggle."
"I wish I could, but the goblins listen to me," said Maria. "Freeing them from a tyrant earned me their respect, although I cannot strike fear into them like my son can. With him needing his rest, there must be someone present to keep things in order. Plus, my days of adventuring are over. This is your adventure, dear. All I ask is that you go forward with the same stubborn attitude that won you back your brother."
What could she say? There was no going back at this point when she had already come so far. Her therapist had always suggested confronting her problems head-on, but Sarah felt that this was a much too literal interpretation of that idea. Still...she thought of Hoggle, pale and weak in her arms, forgiving her for neglecting the friendship that had helped her get her brother back. Shit, she thought, I really did just use him to get what I want and then cut him from my life. "I already agreed I'd help," she finally replied, "and I already made a deal with Jareth over coming back here. It's just...look, you're very nice and I know you mean well, but I'm not the same girl I was seven years ago. I'm a grown woman now, and I have a hard time believing in magic or wishes or anything of the sort. Honestly, I don't know what I'll be able to do to help you."
"I think you're underestimating yourself." Maria stood and smoothed the creases of her dress, frowning as she brushed more stray chalk dust from the silk. "If you weren't the same girl, you would never have come back here in the first place. Perhaps the person you think you are isn't really you, but the other one—the person you keep telling yourself you're not."
The sun outside had begun to dip below the distant hills, painting the sky a brilliant rose. Sarah suddenly felt exhausted, as if the day had gone on for far too long. Her companion too looked as tired as she felt, and mentioned something about her staying in the castle for the night, which Sarah partly heard and nodded in acceptance. However, as Maria went to open the door, Sarah felt one last question blare through her weary mind. "Maria, what's wrong with Jareth?"
Maria froze, fingertips inches from the doors to the small library, her back awash in sunset. There was tension in her shoulders, the rigid stance at odds with her cheery pronouncement. "Nothing of great concern—the fading of magic just makes his ruling difficult. He simply needs to rest."
As she left the room, Sarah could not decide if she was lying to her, or lying to herself.
The two made their way down another hallway, one that like the rest of the castle felt old and on the verge of collapse. Seven years ago, Sarah raced through the place without an eye for the architecture, but now it reminded her of something out of a Gothic novel. The place was cold, with no trappings to provide any semblance of warmth or personality to the space—clearly, its occupants had no eye for interior decorating. Goblins scurried by every once in a while, most pausing to take in Sarah with their bulbous eyes. Their usual cackling and chaotic nature disappeared. Instead, these goblins were solemn, to an unnerving extent. Things had changed in the Underground, and so far not for the better.
Rounding a corner, Maria stopped short at the sight of Sir Didymus and Ambrosius, with the latter bounding up to Sarah and bounding around in circles at her feet. As she reached down to give him scratches behind his ear, she heard Didymus remark, "If I may, Lady Maria, I can happily escort the Lady Sarah to her room. It will be a delight to catch up on things."
"That will be fine. I'm off in that case to check on His Majesty. Once he rests, he will provide more guidance to you than I ever could." Maria turned to Sarah, taking her hands in farewell. "It is truly wonderful to meet you, dear Champion," she said, "especially after all I've been told about you." Without another word, she began to make her way down the hall.
Didymus waited until she had turned a corner before he let out a heavy sigh. "My Lady," he said, "Thy presence is a needed balm in these trying times."
"It's good to see you too, Didymus. Things have definitely been crazy." As she followed a bounding Ambrosius down the hallway, she could not help but laugh. "Just yesterday I was celebrating the end of my first school year and looking forward to summer."
"Ah! Thou art a scholar then? One whom guides the youth?"
"Yep, I went to college and got my degree, and now I teach third grade."
Sir Didymus let out a soft "ah" and Sarah had the feeling that he understood very little of what she said. His thoughts looked to be elsewhere, judging by his twitching whiskers and his single roving eye. She did her best to allay his worry with questions of her own. "What have you been up to all this time? Do you still guard the bridge to the Bog?"
"Ah no, my role hath changed since thou last saw me. Now I am the Captain of the castle guards!" He puffed out his chest and she noted the glint of a small medal pinned to his attire. "'Tis a vital role in the Underground."
"That's amazing! I'm glad that you got that kind of promotion, especially considering...well, the fact that you helped me last time."
While their conversation had been relaxed, her companion froze the moment the words left Sarah's mouth. Ambrosius shuffled back to his rider as if he too wondered what was going on. "Yes," Didymus said, his voice oddly stiff, "nothing to worry about. All's well that ends well."
"So Jar...His Majesty wasn't angry that you helped me?"
A beat passed. "Thou will find that His Majesty is...different since thou were last here, my lady."
If there was one thing Sir Didymus was bad at doing, it was lying. Sarah remembered how squeamish he would get when handling secrets, or when orders conflicted with what he truly wanted to say. "Didymus," she softly asked, noting his increasingly guilty expression, "what aren't you telling me about the Goblin King?"
He squirmed under her gaze. "N-nothing at all, my lady. I merely noted His Majesty is not the same as before."
"Yes, but why is he not like before? He mentioned losing his magic, but everyone's acting like something else is going on."
In her brief time spent with the knight, she had never seen him so solemn. Even Ambrosius had the gall to whine and hang his head. "Did His Majesty or Lady Maria not mention this to thou?
"If I had a nickel for everything people left out..."
"...Yes? What about the nickels?"
"Oh, it's just an expression. I don't actually have...look, I know something's up. Maria danced around the question earlier when I asked, and you're acting too suspicious to make me think everything is normal. Even the goblins are giving me weird looks. What exactly is everyone not telling me?"
For a moment, she believed Didymus would avoid answering. His head turned, as his single eye roamed the area for signs of anyone else nearby. Seeing them alone, he sadly shook his head. "Thou should not learn this from me," he murmured, "but alas, 'tis a role I must take up. His Majesty is...failing."
He paused and looked up at her, as if the one statement was clear enough for her to understand. Sarah felt herself frown, brain working overtime to understand what the knight meant. "Wait, hold on. When you say "failing," you mean what Maria was talking about, right? Something about fading magic and losing power, and how it makes it harder for him to rule?"
Sir Didymus gave a small nod. "Indeed. With the loss of magic in the Underground, His Majesty is forced to utilize much of his energy in keeping the land and his subjects from fading. However, the ability to do so grows more difficult and more taxing with time's passing. Once His Majesty expends the last of his power in an attempt to keep the Labyrinth from further breakdown, he will fail to prevent the end...for all in his kingdom."
He fell silent. Sarah realized with sudden horror what exactly Didymus refused to say. "Oh God...you mean Jareth is dying? If he can't figure out why wishes aren't being answered, he'll die?"
Ambrosius whined with a keen that caused Didymus to flinch before he spoke. "Yes, my lady. 'Tis something all denizens of the Labyrinth are acutely aware of, but it remains unspoken of by His Majesty. We were instructed not to breathe a word of the situation to thou."
"Why? Why act like everything's fine if it's clearly not?"
"That I do not know," admitted the knight. "If His Majesty passes, however, it will mean the instability of the Labyrinth will return. The Goblin King has been able to stop the dissolving of the land and many of its inhabitants, but it will reach the point where he will not have the power to stop it. Thus, thou arrives at a time of great uncertainty, especially with regards to the succession."
"I didn't even realize you guys had a succession," Sarah muttered. "Who's next in line in that situation?"
The fox and his dog simply stared silently at her, much like the goblins.
"What? You don't mean—"
"As the only individual to win against the Goblin King," interrupted Didymus, "the goblins believe this gives thee the right to the kingdom. After all, 'twas in the words thou spoke to defeat His Majesty."
"No, no, that was not what I meant by 'my kingdom is as great as yours!' I meant it to get my brother back, not make myself heir apparent to a maze," she hissed in reply.
"Regardless of your personal feelings, my lady, the goblins recognize thou as the one who will become Goblin Queen should His Majesty fail. The Labyrinth must have a ruler, and thy positive reception by the denizens have superseded the only other candidate."
"Other candidate? Who's the other heir?"
"Tradition dictates that, if the Goblin King hath no children of his own to take up the throne, the last wished-away individual is named heir apparent. In this case that would be...well...Tobias Williams."
Sarah swore loudly, causing both her and her companion to jump as she clapped a hand over her mouth. They paused to look about in alarm, only relaxing after they made sure they were alone and uninterrupted once more. "No. Toby is only seven, and I won him back. He can't rule the Underground!"
"Thus why thou art the choice made by the goblins," Didymus quietly stressed, nearly frantic with his yips. "My lady, if thou truly does not wish this to come to pass, then thou must help us. The goblins and I believe the end art nigh for both His Majesty and the Underground. Prove us wrong again, like thou did seven years before."
The three stood there—fox and human with the dog worriedly in between. The silence that parted their words was a heavy one, but quiet enough that Sarah felt as if her churning thoughts were practically screaming. Her headache returned as she pressed a cool palm to her rapidly warming forehead and massaged her temples. She took a breath, remembering all the years of therapy and conflict resolution sessions. The terrified Sarah would have to be pushed back for a moment in her mind, else she would cave under the pressure. Instead, she squared her shoulders and did her best to look heroic. "Sir Didymus, will you help me go to the center of the Labyrinth?"
"Journeying with thou would be the greatest honor," he replied, and she swore that his eye brimmed with tears. Ambrosius chuffed and nudged him, and he absentmindedly petted his canine steed before noting something in the saddlebag. Wordlessly he reached in and pulled out The Labyrinth, and held it out to her without a second thought or question.
The small tome felt heavier in Sarah's grasp, almost as if it carried the weight of its magic between its pages. "In that case," she said as she tucked the volume under her arm, "it looks like we'll be off on a real adventure tomorrow."
"Ah, delightful! I will see about preparing for such a noble quest—Hoggle should be well by morning, and I am sure he too will join! Come along, my lady—thou must rest soundly for the morrow!"
With a laugh, Sir Didymus skipped forward as Ambrosius joyfully barked, sensing perhaps his master's mood. Even Sarah failed to hold back a smile as he led her along, until with a flourish, he stopped in front of a large wooden door. Opening it, she found herself in the kind of medieval bedroom she saw only in movies, with high stone ceilings, a desk against the far window-covered wall, and a heavy four-poster bed across from a crackling fire. For a second she could imagine that she was on a European vacation, like the kind she dreamed of going on in college. The sight of the Labyrinth out the far window of the room dismissed her dream as quickly as it had come. "I'll be honest," she admitted, "everyone keeps expecting me to know how to fix everything, but I really don't know what I'm doing."
She felt a fuzzy paw pat her hand, and looked down to see the knight doing his best to comfort her. "The important thing," he said, "is that thou will not do this alone. I pledge to help however I can, my lady, until the last fight has left my body."
"Thank you, Sir Didymus, but I hope it won't come to that." Sarah gave one last scratch behind the ears to Ambrosius before bidding her friend goodnight. For the first time in what felt like a long time, she stood alone. The sparks from the fire were her only companions in the silence, and she sat on the bed—surprisingly soft and comfortable—as she stared at the flickering embers.
She was unaware of the tears that slipped down her cheeks until one breath became a shuddering sob. Clutching a hand to her mouth in horror, she let herself dissolve into emotion, and let the pent-up feelings of the day release into the room. Her therapist had stressed the importance of not bottling up emotions to her, and that sometimes having a good cry could be a productive way to let off steam. Sarah choked on a laugh at the thought, and muttered to herself, "Well Williams, you felt like something was missing from your life. Here's an adventure to keep you occupied."
This was enough to stem the tears and banish the sensation that she was in over her head—at least for the moment. Instead, she leaned back on the bed and stared up at the high ceiling. "Okay. I can do this. It's just...go through the Labyrinth again to the center and figure out why everything's going wrong. Piece of cake. Everyone thinks I can do it, otherwise they would never ask me to come back here." She laughed again to herself, realizing that in the span of a day she had learned more about the Labyrinth and its inhabitants than she had during her time within its borders half a decade before. There were too many revelations to count, and as her stomach grumbled, she realized just how tired and hungry she was.
It was then that she realized there was the smell of something delicious wafting through the room, something she had been too preoccupied to notice. Sitting up, she noted that a plate sat upon the desk near the window, with steam curling off of what looked to be chicken and vegetables. It must have been dropped off before she and Didymus arrived, but she put aside any further questions to focus on satiating her hunger. The food was filling and warm, and Sarah ate with gusto as she gazed out her window. The outside world was now bathed in darkness, to her surprise. At night, the Labyrinth looked more menacing in the shadows, but also more serene as it slumbered in peace. Much like its ruler, there was more to it than what presented itself at first glance, though Sarah felt that the landscape was more straightforward than Jareth.
Finished with her meal and lost in her thoughts, Sarah moved as if on autopilot back to her bed. Exhaustion crept over her, putting weight on her limbs and eyes as she struggled to stay afloat of the wave of sleep. The soft bedding did little to help her fight, and soon even the questions that crowded her mind subsided. Eventually, knowing the impending journey awaiting her, she surrendered herself to slumber. Yet, before she drifted off, a small part of her could not help but hope that this was all, somehow, still a dream.
Perhaps motivated by the lingering question asked on the edge of consciousness, Sarah found herself slipping once more into a dream.
This time, much like the last, the location was familiar yet changed: instead of the Labyrinth, she stood in a darkened ballroom. Chandeliers devoid of light hung over her head, as a pale moon illuminated their multitude of crystals. The dance floor was empty in the night, devoid of the revelers who, seven years ago, crowded her peach-induced dream of masquerade and mystery. This absence was almost more terrifying than that nightmare, for while she felt isolated before, the isolation now was altogether too real.
It was not to last, for as Sarah began to move through the ballroom, she spied open glass doors, leading out to a balcony overlooking the Labyrinth. At its marbled railing, his back turned to her, was a familiar lean figure dressed in black. His pale hair shone nearly white in the light of the evening, moved by an invisible breeze that bestowed upon him the look of a ghost brought to the mortal plane. If he noticed her, he said nothing to explain why he stood in her dreams.
Perhaps, then, it was time to take initiative. "So, I hear you're dying."
Judging by the way Jareth started, he had not been aware of her presence after all. He still did not turn to face her, but instead she heard him chuckle. "Who was it that told you? Not my mother, I hope—although I wouldn't be surprised. She was always one to cut to the chase."
"Actually, Sir Didymus told me. He couldn't say why you kept it a secret."
"Is it a secret though? The goblins all know. My mother knows, even though I believe she is in denial over the fact."
"I meant why you kept it a secret from me."
Now he turned to face her, and Sarah sucked in a breath. Here in her dreams he was as she remembered—powerful, seductive, cruel. Everything about him was sharp angles, harsh lines and intense energy. She found herself drawn out of the ballroom and onto the balcony by his very stare.
Jareth, in response, merely curled a smile. "Why, it almost sounds as if you are concerned for me."
"If I had known about it, I wouldn't have made you heal Hoggle—not if it meant inching your closer to death. Plus, if you go, then I'm stuck here instead, and I'm not sure I want to spend two hundred years ruling goblins."
"Heavy is the head that wears the crown," he laughed, for although he mocked, there was no malice behind his words. The Jareth in her dreams acted much differently than the one she encountered in her waking hours. He appeared much more easygoing, although his smile morphed into a contemplative frown. "I must warn you, however, the Labyrinth is not as it once was. While I put obstacles in your way previously, the dangers you will face now are beyond my control."
Sarah thought that he might actually be worried with her heading into the unknown. "Aren't you the Goblin King? Why don't you issue a decree or something, make the Labyrinth stand down?"
"That would require my subjects to be willing to listen to me." He turned to the Labyrinth, extending a hand to point off into the distance. "The closer to the castle, the more loyal they become. Now though, with the new areas of the Labyrinth, there are those who do not know my role here...or simply choose to ignore me and my fading power. Out there, my rule means nothing for a land untouched by wishes."
Perhaps her concern showed on her face, for the Goblin King glanced at her and appeared to soften in quiet contemplation. "I cannot accompany you at the moment, but I can assist in your journey." He reached back behind his head, and lifted away the glittering pendant to hold it out towards her.
"What is it?"
"A gift, nothing more...but if you turn it this way, it becomes a saving grace. Should you ever find yourself without hope or in danger, say your right words and you shall find help."
She wanted to remind him that this was nothing more than a dream, but something made her take his pendant in her hand. It was still warm, and she felt her own face grow heated as she held it. "Thanks. I'll try to make it back in one piece."
"Of that I have no doubt." Far off, Sarah swore she heard the chime of a clock, a sound that made Jareth tilt his head. "It seems our time here is drawing to a close, although I still am curious about one thing. How did you do this?"
The edges of her vision fuzzed, as she swore the landscape around her became gray. "Do what? You're the one who's invading my dream with creepy ballrooms."
The last thing she saw was Jareth's smile, pearled teeth white like the opalescent moon overhead. "How curious you are, my precious thing. I believe it is you who is in my dream..."
Sarah awoke nestled in covers and sheets, her bleary eyes blinking back the glaze of sleep to face the morning sunlight. The haze of her dream lingered still, and as she recalled it, she sat up in surprise.
Gripped in her fist was the golden, sickle-shaped medallion from her dream. It was still warm.
Today would have been David Bowie's 73rd birthday, and thus a perfect day to put up a new chapter. It's also a perfect early birthday gift for myself, because my birthday is tomorrow! Can't believe I missed out on sharing a birthday with Bowie...
This chapter was a beast to write due to the dialogue, which I confess, has always been a weak point of mine. I know that the prequel comics are relatively new and thus unfamiliar to readers, but I don't want to rehash the entire plot in a single piece of dialogue. Instead, I'll be letting some plot points and events filter through the work. Maybe it will inspire more people to go and read the comics (which I recommend, because Maria is a wonderful protagonist).
Thank you again to the readers and reviewers who have stuck through this work. With the dawn of a new year, my goal is to get this work to be one of the great Labyrinth fics, and my best work of creative fiction thus far. Continued comments and criticisms are thus much appreciated to help me refine my writing. As my final semester of graduate school approaches and I buckle down to write more academic works, I hope that at least one of these goals can be fulfilled. I have no timetable for the next update, but it should be out no later than the end of February.
Until next time.