Traitor's Luck
Chapter V
By Northstar
From far and silent starry skies,
Echoes a song full of life.
Crossing a darkness of thousands of light years,
It finally arrives at a single earth.
Alone in the darkness of the oubliette, Hoggle lay dying. The punishment Jareth had inflicted upon him had been more than the old dwarf could bear. However, the physical pain was nothing compared to the utter despair and guilt the had truly broken his heart.
"Sarah, forgive me..." he whispered, his voice almost gone. Unseen tears ran down his face as he remembered how Sarah, reincarnated as Galadrea, had flung herself in front of the blow meant for Jareth. It wasn't supposed to end that way! he silently screamed. SHE had told him that Sarah would not be harmed, and would then remember who she was.
As Hoggle lay there, thinking about the horrible thing he had done, he didn't notice that the oubliette was starting to fill with starlight.
Hoggle, my friend...
"Wha-? Whuh, who's there? Sarah?!" Hoggle tried to say, but the words would not come. Never the less, the spirit heard the words that echoed in his heart.
With eyes closed just so,
Like a faraway prayer,
So that one day
Our Dreams will come true.
Hoggle, Galadrea was not me. the form quietly spoke as it coaleseced into a young girl of about 15, dressed in a poet's blouse, a vest, and jeans. Her long dark hair cascaded down to the middle of her back, and a gentle, sad smile was on her face.
Hoggle's eyes widened as the voice's revelation sank into his mind. "But, Sarah, SHE told me that--"
That I had been reincarnated, I know. I'm sorry Hoggle, but you were lied to, and turned into a pawn. the spirit finished, deep sadness taking over her voice. Hoggle had been her best friend, and even though she knew what would happen, why it had to be him, it was still painful to bear. That he had to suffer so much was just not fair. *But whoever said life was fair?*
Time is so long that,
These tiny palms can barely hold it,
At the end of a million-mile voyage,
We can still run across smiling faces.
All of a sudden, the light began to get brighter, and Hoggle found strength returning to his limbs. He could breathe freely again, and the aches and pains of age had faded! As he stood up, the old dwarf felt as light as a feather, and now he was standing in a starfield. Sudden understanding washed through him.
Now, wet with tears,
As though deep in prayer,
So that one day,
Sadness, too, will end,
"I'm dying, ain't I?" he asked quietly, feeling mildly calm.
Sarah nodded, smiled, and held out her hand. Come on Hoggle, Ludo and Sir Didymus are waiting. Straightening his vest, Hoggle took his old friend's hand, and together they walked into the light, where their other friends were waiting.
From far and silent starry skies,
A song full of life can be heard.
Jareth stood at the space where the gate had been. A harsh, barren landscape stretched out before him. Yes, he should have seen somthing like this coming, yet he had been a blind fool. However, the thought of what he had done to Hoggle made him feel a little better. With a sigh, the king drew his cloak around him and stepped onto the barely-there path.
For what seemed like hours he wearily trudged across the featureless landscape, the bloody-colored sky radiating a fierce heat that almost scorched the breath from his lungs. Dust covered his once magnificent cloak, and the black of his clothes and armor was now a dull rust-color that resembled nothing so much as stained, age-dried blood. Stopping for a moment, Jareth opened his waterskin to drink from it, but the feywine inside had turned to dust. Swearing, he threw it down and brushed his sweat-damp hair back from his dust-streaked face.
"Is there no end to this damnable wasteland?!" he asked furiously of no-one and nothing in particular. Rage would have seethed in him at the unchanging landscape, but he was much to weary to sustain it. Almost as if the landscape had a mind of its own and was listening, the ground began to rumble, first slightly, then with growing violence.
Quickly muttering the words to a levitation spell, Jareth watched in horror as the wasteland buckled beneath him and then burst open, leaving a yawning chasm where the road had been. After opening, the landscape settled down, and Jareth cautiously approached the newly-opened portal.
"Well, if this is a trap, I really have no choice, do I?" he muttered, a grin ticking at the side of his dry mouth. Descending into the midnight-black gap, he reminded himself that at least he was getting somewhere...though the 'where' in particular was not likely going to be pleasant.
Just take me to Gala, he silently pleaded. Please, let me be in time!
In the castle beyond the Goblin City, it was safe to say that chaos was the rule. Ever since Jareth had turned up missing, Indros and Joshuan and Natela had done their best to keep the kingdom running as smoothly as possible. Having lived in the Underground, and more specifically Jareth's kingdom for most of his adult life, Joshuan was considered by the other former apprentices to be the leader. Unfortunately, Joshuan's talents did not run towards leadership.
"I don't give a flying fig what Duke so-and-so said that Jareth said! No means no, I'm in charge until his majesty returns, and argue with me and I'll put a fireball up your ass!" threatened a very peeved Joshuan after dealing with another of the interminable requests from yet ANOTHER conniving snake from the Bethdar kingdom.
As the offended naga slithered out of the chamber, Joshuan dropped into the throne and placed his head in his hands. "Great, what else can go wrong?" he asked rhetorically as several goblins ran through the throne room and caused some kind of catastrophe in the hall. To make matter worse, the goblins didn't even listen to him.
"You certainly have a way with politicians, Josh," came Indros's tired but sympathetic voice. Raising his head, Joshuan looked at Indros and then at Natela who was always at his side since Master Galadrea's kidnapping, for that was what they had taken to calling it. A planned kidnapping gone wrong.
"Aye, and I hope that that's the last one I have to deal with before Jareth gets back!" Joshuan remarked, briefly glaring at the couple as they started to chuckle at his predicament.
"Why don't we switch jobs for a while, Joshuan? Indros and I take care of running the kingdom, while you go help the others do research on reclaiming souls?" Natela suggested, laying an ebony hand gently on Joshuan's shoulder. A pathetically hopeful look came over his face.
"You mean that? You wouldn't mind?" he asked them, relief dominating his features as he stood up from the throne.
"Go, get some rest! Natela and I can handle things for a while, okay?" Indros said, patting Joshuan on the back. Beaming in gratitude, the tired wizard stumbled out of the throne room, kicking a goblin on his way out. After he was gone, Natela and Indros exchanged looks, then burst out into laughter.
"Oh, my love, I know it's not funny, but the man is just not cut out for being a leader, is he?" Natela asked between peals of laughter. Indros shook his head and sat on the throne, pulling his fiancee down onto his lap.
"Unfortunately, no," he said, wrapping his arms around Natela's slender waist. "Maybe, since it's so late, we won't have anything to worry, about, eh?" Indros asked. Natela shook her snowy main of hair and gave Indros a deep, penetrating kiss.
When the two finally surfaced for air, Natela replied. "Mmm. Hopefully not, lover." Of course, things would have to go wrong on their shift. Just as they were about to continue where they left off, another goblin ran into the throne room. Casting the creature glares that would have fried the creature if looks could kill, the couple separated, Natela moving to stand behind Indros.
"Well? What is it?" Indros replied, slighlty peeved. While the goblin tried to collect its thoughts and remember what it came in for, a monumental task in itself, Indros thought, the half-elf smoothed back his mussed hair. Finally, after many minutes during which Natela started tapping her foot impatiently, the goblin finally remembered what it was reporting.
"It's the advisor, you sister sir!" the goblin squeaked, his voice becoming anxious. "We -my friends 'n me- wuz guarding the body, and then, it suddenly started to dissappear!"
"DISAPPEAR?!" Natela shrieked, her voice reaching octaves that made the glass in the windows crack, and Indros and all in range wince in agony.
Recovering his hearing slightly, Indros questioned the little beast forcefully, getting up and striding towards the chamber that was serving as a make-shift chapel. "Come with me, and explain," he commanded, the goblin automatically following him. Trailing behind them came Natela, silently fuming.
Upon reaching the 'chapel', Indros and Natela rushed to the bier that had held the body of Galadrea. Like the goblin had said, the bier was empty. As if sensing that his life depended on his next words, the goblin started explaining hastily.
"We wasn't drunk or nothing, honest milord! We wuz watching the body carefully, since the white lady -that was what me n'the boys called her- was so important to the king. We wouldn't've let nobody n' nothing gets near it, honest! The White Lady, she jes kinda faded away..." he continued, his voice trailing off as Natela and Indros scrutinized him. The boy he had no problem with, as a matter of fact, he reminded the little being of the king after a fashion. It was that black elf that gave the goblin the creeps. It had heard the rumors about how they had enslaved the Aboveground cousins of the goblins, and it had heard rumors that the drow were far more cruel and evil and duplicitous than any other being in existence. No sir, it didn't trust the Black Lady the least little bit.
With a sharp nod, Indros turned away from the creature. "Go, summon the other mages, but don't wake Lord Joshuan. He needs the rest, understand? Have them come here. We need to get this mystery taken care of. Natela?" he asked, turning to his love. Natela stepped closer, a quizzical expression on her beautiful face.
"Yes Indros?" she asked, knowing what Indros was going to ask of her. Of course, she wouldn't be able to do it. There was no such spell in her repertoir. That other vision had been created totally by her, though odds are she had gotten a fair amount of detail precise. A few theatrics showing the hidden demon, and voila! Instant reaction.
"I need you to cast that spell again, the one that allows you to review recent events. Can you do this?" he asked, putting both hands on her shoulders and looking her in the eyes, his face graver than Natela had ever seen them.
"I can try, Indros, but I can't guarantee success. The spell only works when something that causes strong emotions happens. Though it cause confusion, I doubt it was strong enough to leave a mark on the border ethereal," she said, making up an excuse as to why she couldn't successfully perform the spell. When she failed, as she would since she didn't have a spell like that, her cover would still be complete.
"That's all I ask, Natela," Indros whispered. Suddenly, he was aware that the goblin was still present. "You! What are you still doing here? I gave you an order, didn't I?" he barked, removing his hands from Natela's shoulders. Blubbering, the goblin turned tail and ran out of the throne room to complete it's assignment. Sighing, Indros once again traded an exasperated glance with his lady. She replied to his look by shrugging her delicate shoulders.
"It's a goblin," she explained simply.
Slowly, bit by bit, the memories returned to the spirit as it sat trapped in the gem. As the last fragment slid into place, full identity returned, as did physical form, and Galadrea looked around anew at her surroundings.
Drifting in place, she began to realize what had happened, and when she did she was furious. Though the space she was in appeared infinite, in reality it was a small pocket of the Plane of Shadows, and she was confined by the facets of the jewel that magical linked such a holding cell to whatever plane it happened to be in.
Turning to one of the many facets, Galadrea called forth a dimensional gate, only to have the magic flow from her body and be absorbed by the facets. Ready to try once more, she stopped her casting when she felt the presence of a powerful, evil entity.
*So, little mage, you are the bait that's to be used.*
"Who in the Abyss are you?" Gala snarled, her face twisting in scorn and outrage. To her consternation, the voice laughed, and power was suddenly ripped from her form, leaving her gasping.
*Little mage, I am Heratona, supreme commander of the marilith forces in the Blood War. Your magical powers are now mine to draw on, so I would advise you to behave yourself. I know of many ways to torture spirits -Indeed! I taught such secrets to the Drow matron Baenre herself!- so you would be well advised to cease your futile struggles and conserve your magical abilities.*
"Like Tarterus I will!" Gala returned, concentrating her energy full force into a powerful, dimension-twisting spell that was rumored that not even tanari'i could stand against. However, unlike before, this time not only did the spell not work, but Heratona used her powers to suck the energy of the spell into herself before Galadrea could shape it.
The marilith's laughter echoed throughout the dimensional prison as Heratona drained the magical essence of the half-elf, and sending racking pain through the captured mage's form. As wave after wave rolled over her, Galadrea began to weaken. As she once more faded into unconciousness, she prayed that wherever he was, Jareth was safe. For Galadrea had not missed that first comment about her being bait. And the only powerful being she could think she would be of any worth to was the man she loved, who she now knew loved her. Gala grasped that last thought and carried it with her into peaceful oblivion.
To Be Continued...