Time moves differently for one without sleep, as Sarah discovered over the following two days. The forest blurred before her eyes, with nothing to distinguish one pine tree from another as the party trekked along. She hid her exhaustion from her friends, who thankfully became less and less engaged in conversation as they made their way deeper into the trees. If they noticed that she stayed up long after they had gone to bed, or seemed to be the first to wake each morning, neither of them commented on it. Perhaps they already knew the toll the journey had taken on her, given the bags under her eyes and her reluctance to speak at length. Instead, they pressed onward, bound to the mountain range that grew larger with each step. Nothing could stop the journey, as the wheels were already in motion toward whatever inevitability awaited them at the center of the Underground.

With the lack of sleep, the headache that bothered Sarah on and off returned with a vengeance, pounding and throbbing hard enough at times to make her fingers twitch. Rest might have relieved her tension, but she knew better than to give in to her body's desire. The cold stare of the Goblin King lingered in her mind beyond the dreamscape, and she refused to let him have any further control over her than simply haunting her thoughts. It was, she realized with brief chagrin, what she had dealt with for the last seven years—she moving on with her life, and he relegated to the outskirts of memory. The therapy sessions that helped her with her life post-teenage adventure once again proved useful, and she treated the next two days as if nothing had changed.

It was on the third day that the idea broke apart before her eyes.

It began subtly, through a shift in the forest landscape. The dense pine branches thinned out a few hours into the day, allowing orange sunlight to speckle the needles around the group. This was not notable at the time, as Sarah walked further behind while lost in her own thoughts, but it made for a beautiful sight to behold. Entranced by the light that played across the ground, she nearly missed the ongoing debate between Hoggle and Sir Didymus carried out in front of her. A name stuck out amid the jabbering, breaking through her clouded mind long enough for her to tune into the conversation. "Wait, what did you say about Jareth?"

Her question appeared to take Sir Didymus by surprise, but he answered nonetheless. "Friend Hoggle and I were discussing His Majesty's rulership—"

"—or lack of," interjected Hoggle.

This earned him a glare from the fox. "Well, it's certainly better than his predecessor. That at least thou cannot deny."

"Hmm, well, you'd know all about that." Catching Sarah's puzzled expression, Hoggle added, "Sir Didymus here was alive when the Owl King fell, after all."

"Really?" Sarah turned her attention back to Didymus, who blushed at the sudden interest. "That was almost two hundred years ago!"

Ambrosius kept up a steady pace as his rider chuckled. "I was very young, my lady, on the day that the great lady Maria ran the Labyrinth for her son. What I know is hardly special; most of what I remember is from what my mother and father told me. Yet, I do recall the celebrations of my fellow denizens at the defeat of their former king. His Majesty may be...misguided at times, but he is fair and represents the goblins better than the late king ever could."

"Not surprised, he's got the goblin's backing, after all. That's what comes with your own mother breaking down the doors with a goblin revolution."

"Goblin revolution?" Hoggle's words conjured an image of Maria that was incongruous with the woman Sarah met before. "She mentioned it before, but I never did hear an explanation for what happened. How did someone running the Labyrinth upend a king?"

"Thou must understand," Didymus said, as he kept his eye on the distant trees, "that the Labyrinth was different back then. 'Twas a much crueler place, for runners and goblins alike, and the Owl King was the cruelest by far. His family line ruled the Underground since time immemorial, and eventually there were mutterings that a better king was needed—one that would have the approval of the goblins."

"They tricked Jareth's father into wishing him away, right? I remember that being talked about by a few goblins in the castle."

"Thou art correct, Hoggle. Thus, Lady Maria went to retrieve her child, allying with the goblin revolution to storm the goblin city and make her way to the castle. The Owl King tried and failed to stop her, and eventually it led to a showdown between her, her companions, the king, and his strongest men."

All three fell silent at that, continuing their wordless momentum until Sarah spoke up. "When I spoke to Maria, she said she was too late. So what happened to the Owl King? I mean, if Jareth ended up being made the Goblin King, then something must have gone down."

"That's the mystery, my lady, and one subject to rumor since I was old enough to remember such things. No one knows what happened in the castle that night, save for those who fought the Owl King himself. Some say that he died, and some claim he's still out there, biding his time before he returns to reclaim his throne. I, however, believe he is fully gone, banished out of existence once Lady Maria transformed the Labyrinth and His Majesty became our ruler. If the Owl King were not gone, he would have returned long ago."

Hoggle raised an eyebrow as he looked to Sarah. "Of course, there's still questions about what happened to Jareth to make him like he is now."

"Like he is now?"

"Oh yeah, all magical and stuff. He was a normal baby when he got here, but then a few days later, out pops His Royal Glittery Highness, all ready to be the Goblin King. How'd he end up growing so fast is what I want to know. Didymus, what do you think?"

However, Sir Didymus had brought Ambrosius to a halt, and held up a paw to make his companions do the same. "Listen," he hissed.

In the silence of the forest, the sound of far-off calls floated towards them on the breeze. Sarah strained to make out the words, noting the sound of running water overlapping whatever was being said. Distantly, she swore there were moving shapes beyond the trees, although she was still too far away to make out explicitly what lay ahead.

The knight, with his twitching ears, looked to Hoggle with barely contained horror. "My friend, do you hear them?"

Hoggle nodded, as Sarah whispered, "Hear who?"

"The goblin market."

Both her friends spoke in unison, which might have unnerved Sarah had she held any idea of what they were talking about. Something about the phrase sounded familiar to her, ticking at the corner of her mind and making her recall a semester in college with a monotone professor and a roommate frantically studying for a final exam. "You mean...wait, you mean like the poem?"

"I don't know anything about a poem," replied Hoggle, "but the goblins in the market aren't like the ones in the castle. They used to set up where runners would pass by, with these enchanted fruits. As soon as they saw 'em, the runners would be lost. They'd stay and eat the fruit and fail the run, and forfeit whoever they wished away. I've even heard that the runners become goblins themselves, and join the market."

What little sanity remained after two sleepless days clung in vain to scraps of college memory. "It certainly sounds like the poem, or at least what I remember. You weren't supposed to look at the goblins. Is there any way we can go around the market?"

"I think they've set up beside a stream," answered the knight, "and we have to cross in order to continue in the same direction. We must either go around for however-knows how long to get back on track, or risk moving straight through the market."

Sarah thought for a moment, listening again to the faint voices in the distance. "Would looking at the goblins enchant you two?" Seeing her friends shake their heads, her plan slipped into place. "If that's the case, then I just can't look."

"Well," Didymus conceded, "I suppose thou has a point, but how—"

There came a tearing sound that Hoggle flinched at, as Sarah ripped at her sleeves and tore a long piece of fabric from the tattered remains. "I can blindfold myself," she said, holding up the fabric, "and you both can guide me through the market until we're safely away from any goblins."

Sir Didymus and Hoggle looked to each other once more, but the worry in their eyes did not fade. "Sarah," Hoggle muttered, "this ain't like before, with Tangle or the bridge. The goblins here are dangerous, and their magic can't be resisted by your kind. That's why they're not in the proper Labyrinth, since Jareth had to banish the whole lot after too many runners were lost to 'em. If something goes wrong—if you see even a bit of one of their fruits—we won't be able to help you. You'll be lost."

Briefly, Sarah wondered if the risk was worth taking. There was an easier way around the goblin market, one that would prevent the dangerous encounter entirely at the cost of their time. How much time did they truly have? If she were to judge by Jareth's appearance in her dream...

She dropped the thought of the Goblin King from her mind, as if merely thinking of him would summon the dream to life. There was no time to spare, and she did not need a dream to confirm such a fact. "We've made it through worse," she said, meeting the uncertain eyes of her friends. "All I have to do is keep my eyes shut, and I can definitely do that, especially since I have you two with me."

Ambrosius barked, earning a chuckle from the party. "You too, you silly dog," Sarah added, scratching the canine behind the ears. His tail wagged at the attention, and both Hoggle and Didymus appeared more at ease as she held up the fabric to her eyes.

"I'll keep my eyes closed," she promised, "until you think it's ok for me to look again."

"If you don't look," Hoggle noted with a smile, "this should be a piece of cake."

Her headache throbbed, but Sarah held back the desire to wince at the sudden pain. Whether it was from the utterance of that cursed phrase was unclear, and there was no time to consider the implications. Instead, she tied the fabric in a makeshift blindfold around her eyes.

All she had to do was not look. Hoggle was right: this would be a piece of cake.

With her blindfold securely fastened, she was ready. Hoggle held tight to her left hand, while Didymus' small paw guided her on the right. Yet, Sarah saw nothing. There was only the blackness of stolen sight, with her vision obfuscated by both the blindfold and her own closed eyes. If it were not for her friends at her side, the experience would have been utterly disorienting. Adrenaline kept her afloat amid the darkness, and after a few cautious steps, she let herself be led into the unknown, trusting her friends would not lead her to danger.

Without her sight, her other senses unfurled. Dirt crunched underfoot, punctuated by the snap of pine needles or the occasional stray stone that skittered away with a light kick. She could feel the play of sun across her back in moments of warm touches, and she yearned to see how the light made its way through the forest. Two sounds grew in intensity as they moved: one the bubbling gurgle of a stream, and the other the low, dirge-like rumbles of what she assumed were the goblins of the market. They sang something unrecognizable, humming together until, suddenly, they stopped. Only the sound of water remained.

"Well, they've seen us," grumbled Hoggle. "Here we go, over the bridge."

Sarah felt the shift in terrain under her feet, as dirt gave way to logs that creaked at her crossing. The moment her feet touched the ground, sound erupted around her, as the goblin market came to life.

"Lady! Pretty lady! Come, come buy pretty fruits!"

"Fresh apples for the lady! Ripe plums, all for you!"

"Look at me! Look at what I can give you!"

Sarah flinched at the wall of sound encompassing the darkness, and felt Didymus squeeze her hand. "They want thee to look, my lady, but they are all bark and no bite. Thou wilt come to no harm while we have you by our side."

She nodded, afraid that if she spoke, she might display the fear that took residence inside her. The wails and pleads of the goblins grew in intensity, and although she could not see them, she could only imagine how many were there by the cacophony of voices all around. Be brave, she told herself with each step, it's a piece of cake. Sarah felt her fear fade, sinking instead into the darkness to escape the voices around her. There was the temptation to look, to peek at what wonders the goblins said they possessed. She knew better, or at least knew the danger in giving in to such desire. The blindfold held true, and her friends at her side barred her from reaching up and tugging it free. She owed it to them to keep going. She owed it to herself, at the very least.

After what felt like ages, the voices began to drop around her, falling quieter and eventually into near-silence as she continued walking, led only by the hands within her own. Finally, Sir Didymus' voice rang out amid the darkness. "The market is behind us, my lady. Thou art safe now to see once more, so long as thou does not look back."

Sarah breathed a sigh of relief, a sound echoed by Hoggle as she undid the knot at the back of her head. The forest became visible once more, as the light from the orange sky shone amid the pines. Ahead the dirt path led into a dense cropping of bushes whose green leaves looked almost black in the light that. She could still hear the rumblings of the goblins behind her, still desperate in their desire to have her look at their offerings. A laugh escaped her throat, triumphant and sharp, and she nearly remarked that the trial had been far easier than expected.

Perhaps it was fate, then, that a goblin bounded from around the bushes.

The goblin was no bigger than the knight at her side, with pickle-colored skin and a hat of brown fabric drooping across his head. He carried with him a covered basket that bounced in his grip as he jogged along, potentially late in selling his wares in the market. There was no time to question his motivations, nor to wonder why he was in such a hurry. The encounter between himself and the party was too fast to avoid, and judging by the way his golden eyes widened, they had caught him by surprise. In the midst of his surprise, in the second it took Sarah to register who was coming toward her, he lost his footing and tumbled forward.

The basket flew from his grip, and the cover came undone. It was too late to look away.

Fruit spilled across the path, the most glorious and beautiful fruit that Sarah had ever seen. Crisp, ripe apples bounced past her feet in a blur of ruby red. Oranges that matched the sky caught the light as they rolled, with their weight squishing stray grapes in a splatter of vivid purples and greens. She heard Didymus cry out to her, but his voice sounded faint and far-off, hardly present amid the myriad of colors that punctuated her vision. Nothing else registered in the haze that consumed her mind.

The urge to turn back overcame her, and she turned to see the market illuminated in the light from the sun. Behind her lay a small break in the trees, a grove nestled into a river that curved like a horseshoe around a campsite. A scattering of tents reached for the orange sky, their spires intertwined with smoke emanating from fires and torches around the camp. Amid them were goblins, perhaps two dozen of various sizes and shapes, and Sarah caught glimpses of tails, and of mouse faces or wolf ears, as the group silently stared. These goblins were more animalistic than any she had seen before, yet strangely beautiful. They entranced her vision completely, and she felt the urge to go to them, to look upon them closely and see if they held fruit as breathtaking as the ones around her feet.

Someone or something tugged at her sleeve, but it did nothing to thwart her movement. She did not stop to see who or what it was.

Her movements were slow and trance-like as she made her way to the now-silent goblin crowd, fixated upon the bounty of nature that they carried. All held fruit in their palms, glorious fruits that she recognized as flawless, perfect ideas of what fruit should be. Plums a brilliant purple rested in a few hands. Lemons the color of her own sun glistened amid the crowd, mirroring the golden eyes of the goblins. It was beautiful, utterly beautiful and magical beyond compare. There was nothing else in the world but the market, nothing to take her attention away as one goblin shoved his way to the front of the crowd. This one was taller and lankier than his companions, with the countenance of a wolf and a face to match. He grinned as she approached, showing fangs stained with the juice of various fruits as he hissed, "Come. Eat with us." His eyes, like his companions, were entirely black, and as he held out his clawed hand, they appeared to glow.

In his hand was the most perfect peach, plump and begging to be eaten. The sight made Sarah hunger for a bite and imagine the rich taste that awaited her. She wanted nothing more than to sink her teeth into its tender flesh, and feast upon the juice that it promised to hold. Yet, the black eyes that met hers felt familiar, and a part of her mind struggled to recall why as she reached for the fruit.

Through the haze, she thought of owls. For the briefest second, she escaped the pressure that bore down upon her, and the right word finally fell from her lips.

"Jareth."

The pendant around her neck shattered.

Her fingers brushed against soft peach fuzz.

And the pain in Sarah's head exploded, as the world fell down.

Far from the goblin market, the sensation of someone calling his name awakened a sleeping monarch.

There was something vaguely familiar in the ripple that washed over Jareth's skin, prompting an intake of breath as he sat upright in his bed. He recognized the pull of a wish, starved as he was for any semblance of what once had been. The wish burrowed into his mind as he clutched at his sheets, its owner as familiar to him as the touch of his own power.

Then, a wave of magic—strong magic, as strong as his own—slammed into him, driving the breath from his lungs. Something had happened in the depths of the Labyrinth, something that could not be coincidence given the utterance of his name. He swore, and in an instant vanished in a cloud of glitter, bound as he was to answer to the boon granted within his dreams.

Within the castle walls, a crowded ballroom stilled. The swishing of silken dresses and the gentle murmur of conversation fell silent, and the guests shivered as the prickle of strong, strange magic swept over them.

"Curious," muttered a tall man with long, pale hair. His mask did not betray emotion, as he turned to his dance partner to remark, "Whatever could that be?"

Maria lowered her intricate Venetian mask from her paling face. "The girl," she whispered, placing a hand to her heart and handing her mask to a nearby servant. "Something has happened to the Champion of the Labyrinth."

At the center of the Labyrinth, someone felt the wave of magic and chuckled.

"She's awakened," hissed a voice. "What does this mean?"

"It means," came the reply, "that there's been an interesting twist in our plan—one that we can use to our benefit."

And in a world without magic, Toby Williams paused in his playing. He was certain that, for the briefest moment, he had heard the voice of his sister...

The goblins of the market barely knew what hit them.

In a flash of feathers, the Goblin King descended in a fury upon the screeching masses. He bowled over those in his way, and with a glare bogged those who rushed at his royal person. Something had changed in the Labyrinth—magic rolled through him, suffocating the chill in the air with heat. Raw power lit a fiery trail through his veins as his lips curled into a snarl. Many of the remaining goblins fled in terror, upending their fruit as they put value into their lives rather than their livelihoods.

Transformation did not bring pain, as the magic came easily to move from owl to man. Jareth scowled as the last goblin rushed across the stream and into the forest, watching even after he had darted from view, as if to confirm that the menace would not return. Satisfied, he turned around to focus on the woman who had finally felt the need to call upon him...and froze.

There was something deeply, utterly wrong with Sarah.

Magic poured from her, twisting the light as it rippled and flowed into the earth. Her back arched as she clawed at pine needles and dirt, scrambling for a grip as the power overtook her. Through all this, she did not speak, her eyes wide and unseeing as she gasped for air and strained towards the sky. Pressure surrounded her like a wall, strong enough to make Jareth flinch at the sheer intensity of its force. He felt magic ripple and bend around him, uncontrolled and raw as it radiated unseen from the very form of Sarah Williams. This was something he had not foreseen, something he had hoped beyond hope would never come to pass. He recognized what was before him.

For the first time in his life, the Goblin King felt fear.

Out of the corner of his eye, motion. He glanced to see her companions, who had begun to move towards her in horror, perhaps in an attempt to ease whatever pain they were witnessing. Fear was banished in an instant, as Jareth instead took up the age-old countenance of the mighty, fearsome persona he wore so well.

"Don't touch her!" Hoggle and Sir Didymus jumped at Jareth's command, whirling around to face him as he strode forward. "She's being overpowered by her own magic—if you touch her, you'll burn to nothing but ash."

The knight stammered a few undecipherable words, but fell silent as he took in his king's expression. Hoggle, on the other hand, did not hesitate to speak his mind. "What's wrong with her?! What did you do?"

"This is her own doing," Jareth spat, ignoring the desire to banish the insolent dwarf to the coldest, darkest oubliette he could find. "She denied what powers she had again and again, and this is the consequence of such inaction."

"Thou hast to stop it."

Sir Didymus' voice rang out amid the chaos, much to everyone's surprise. He spoke again as Jareth gave him attention. "Please, Your Majesty, she doesn't deserve this. She said the right words."

Jareth paused, and reached up with a hand to touch the pendant that had, somehow, reappeared around his neck. If his facade fell, it was brief in its exposure, before he glared once more and made his way to kneel by Sarah's side. She did not notice his presence as he pulled his gloves off of his hands, trapped as she was in the overwhelming nature of magic.

He placed one hand upon her shoulder, and dug the other into the dirt, ignoring the sensation of soil under her nails as magic crashed through him. There was no time to breathe, nor to think. Power overwhelmed all, heat rushing into his body and reviving the aspects of his own power that lay dormant for so long. He gasped as he felt himself brought back from the brink of death, no longer a husk of a king as he channeled the magic away from Sarah. Yet, even for himself, it was too much. Sweat began to drip from his brow as his vision wavered. He struggled against the tide of power, a tide that flooded him beyond what even he could handle. It threatened to overwhelm him, to burn him alive with sheer, destructive force. With his strength fading, the Goblin King realized too late that he had taken up an impossible task. Sarah Williams would be the end of him, caught as he was in his duty to fulfill what very well could be her last request.

In the back of his mind, he felt the pinprick of a different, yet familiar magic, one that carried with it his mother's concern. Then, it was gone.

Moments later, another figure crouched at Sarah's side.

Maria, She with the Unvanquished Heart, mirrored the stance of her son as she bowed her head in concentration, letting the magic flow through her as a conduit into the Underground. She said not a word, but after a moment, the power emanating from Sarah began to lessen. Jareth and Maria focused, opening themselves to the energy that flowed and eventually trickled until, finally, the woman between them crumpled with closed eyes. Light returned to normal, all magic spent from the young woman, and mother and son relaxed.

"Is she-"

"She's fine now," Jareth said with a sigh. "Thank you, mother. It was...it was too much for me."

"It was harder than it was with you," Maria muttered, looking at her son with unconstrained shock upon her face. "Jareth, what happened? When did she get like this?"

Jareth looked down at Sarah, unconscious and spent from her ordeal. "I didn't think this would occur. She's always denied what happened here, and I assumed...well, what you assumed, that she held no power at all."

"And you never thought to tell her the truth? She almost died, ripped apart by her own..." The two stared silently at the young woman, as Maria failed to finish what was on her mind.

Eventually, she spoke, only after both had caught their breath. "She needs to rest. All that magic has helped the Labyrinth, but you can already feel that. It's bought the land time. We can figure out what this means once she's awake."

Despite being a king, Jareth knew better than to argue with his mother, and nodded as he put on his gloves. In a smooth motion, he lifted Sarah, noting how light she felt within the confines of his arms. Maria spoke to Hoggle and Sir Didymus, but he paid little attention, overwhelmed by the sensation of warm, unobstructed power within him. He glanced down at the woman he carried, sighing at her slumber.

"Oh you precious thing," he whispered, tracing a gloved finger across her cheekbone, "what have you become?"

In a cloud of glitter and a flash of rectangular light, all were gone, and the forest was silent once more, infused with the new energy that permeated the Labyrinth. Trampled tents and crackling embers of torches were all that marked the site of the goblin market, and yet there was something else, something unseen by those who had kept Sarah alive.

For in the spot where her fingers had dug into the earth of the Underground, a sapling of white wood with a single, kaleidoscopic leaf grew and glistened with magic.

I apologize for completely missing the target window of "before June" for this update, but man, did this chapter turn out to be a struggle to work with. What you've read is actually the fourth attempt at the chapter! I actually had 80% ready to go by the end of May, but something about what I had just wasn't lining up with how I envisioned things happening. So, I trashed that draft and started anew, which...also led nowhere. It wasn't until last week that I started up again and stuck with it, and finally got this chapter to a point where I could safely say "ok, yes, this works the way I want it to." It's particularly hard because this is one of what I call "The Big Ones," or a massive core event that changes something about the story. If you think of it as a play or TV show, this would be end of Act 1 or the finale for a season. So a lot has to happen in this chapter, and happen well.

In particular, this chapter had a LOT going on. We've got the quintessential reference to the Rosetti poem Goblin Market (which I only learned about last year, and taught as a TA), we've got one of two instances where the perspective shifts from Sarah, and then there's the twist! Magic is here! I'm really looking forward to talking about magic in the upcoming chapters, because it's something that I can go into a lot of sensory detail over. If there's one thing I like, it's sensory detail. Or I guess just detail in general!

Thank you as always to the readers and reviewers, as I've loved reading the reactions to what's happening, and seeing some guesses as to what is to come. It means a lot to see such support, especially in these wild times.

In terms of next chapter's update date, I'm not entirely sure when it'll be done. Before the end of July is my best estimate, but given than I tend to take longer whenever I put down a specific time, I'd hate to curse myself. I'll aim for the end of July at the very latest.

Until next time.