Chapter
Four: Interludes
Beth moaned and rolled over, grabbing for
her alarm and wincing as it dropped to the floor, knowing the
other two were still set in case she decided to doze off again.
Mary could hear them through the door, and Mary woke up three
hours later than she did.
Rolling out from under the covers, Beth
dropped to the floor to retrieve the all-purpose kitchen timer
that interrupted sleep, thoughts and lives with an incredibly
annoying little beep. That's strange, she thought. I
don't remember what I did last night. Did I go home after work?
Why can't I recollect anything after ten o'clock? How did I get
home?
Beth kneeled on the floor, covering her
nose with her arm to prevent sneezing from the dust. She glanced
under the bed. Air cleaner, shoes, hairdryer, abused power
strip...darn, I know it's down here...
"Aha!" she gave a cry of triumph,
retrieving the alarm and stopping the shrill noise it emitted.
Beth put her hands on the wooden floor to lift herself up.
Then she noticed her left hand.
No. Please, no.
It couldn't be. Yet there it was, the
emerald ring, still wrapped around her fourth finger, still stuck
tight, as bright as ever, shining fragments of heaven around the
room as it hit the morning light.
"Well?"
Jareth was more impatient than ever before.
The entire castle was clean and practically goblin-free, save for
the few useful ones that showed sparks of intelligence once in a
while. Now it was the turn of the hired help. Pan had disappeared
to Heaven-knew-where, and his "volunteers" were
incapable of interior decorating.
Luckily for them, the Goblin King proved
lenient. He didn't kill them on the spot.
"Listen to me," he spoke with a
deadly calm in his voice, "and listen well. The Ballroom and
Throne Room sketches are on the table. If every detail isn't
perfectly executed in manner that suits me, I will personally dip
each and every one of your heads in the Bog of Eternal Stench and
throw them into an oubliette with a Boink's detached members. You
know what Boinks do in prisons, don't you?" He smiled,
dropping the quivering elf to the floor. "Good. Have them
done in two days."
Jareth transported himself to his bedroom
and walked up to a gilded window, letting the glass panels swing
open in the light breeze. He leaned out regally, surveying his
view as a lion does its pride lands.
The land to the west grew in wilder,
uncontrolled branches and vines, twisting and crippling the paths
of the Labyrinth until it turned into the Dark Forest of Avalon,
Kingdom of the Fae and the first of the two main kingdoms in the
Underground. To the east, the maze faded away into a bleak,
lifeless plain. Rumbling storm clouds were discernable in the
distance.
The Goblin King sighed. So much energy
wasted. She would have much work to do, many new places to
create...
He smiled, satisfaction washing over his
features as he fastened the locks on the window and spun around.
If he closed his eyes, he could almost
imagine her in the room with him, whispering warmly in his ear,
embracing him so that he knew why he wanted her. Her touch, the
taste of her mouth, her lips on his, the feel of her body pressed
against him. Beneath him.
Jareth look at the richly decorated gold
and black bed, touching it with one gloved hand. He knew exactly
whom he wanted there, tumbling beneath the silk sheets, calling
out for him. The whispers were always with him, growing quietly,
driving him mad with waiting, making him feel as if he would
explode with impatience if could not touch her, have her
completely...
Beth...
The Goblin King grinned, putting a hand to
his head. He needed a cold shower. There was time enough to live
out everything he could imagine.
None of it mattered at all anymore. The
transitory pleasures he took in other women, the bitterness of
losing, the lifetimes of loneliness and illusions, the years of
frustration, fifteen years of not knowing whether he would ever
find her again- they were all gone, wiped away, forgotten
forever. He laughed to himself. If only lust and revenge
always came with complimentary gift-wrap.
She would lose. He would see to that. Then
she would be his forever, to do with as he pleased.
Whether she wanted to or not.
Back and forth, back and forth...
The specific act was one that would have
annoyed almost anybody, a restless motion of frantic thoughts,
hurried planning and flourishes of exasperation as the figure
tossed on idea into the air, letting it fall out of sight the
next. His feet ran in tired circles, over and over again.
Only the two feet were in the air the
entire time.
The fey was pacing, shaking the tangles of
red hair out of his face, his green eyes an unusually somber
tone, something akin to worry passing across his face briefly
before he shoved it away again, then allowed it to return with a
vengeance.
"Didn't sleep, cousin?"
At the imperious, calm tone of the voice,
Pan ceased his restless movements, not bothering to turn around.
He sighed. "Not much," he admitted, smiling wryly. He
disappeared, only to materialize on a ledge near a large bay
window. "You don't miss anything, do you, Adair?"
The other youth was sprawled across one of
the many piles of luxurious cushions scattered around the great
hall of Avalon Castle, home of the Fae Court. The figure seemed
unfazed by his opulent surroundings, dwelling peacefully in the
languor that surrounded him like a cloud. He was tall, his lithe
form stretching with the tingling airs of boredom, perhaps
weariness, face obscured by the hood of a long velvet cloak the
color of the evening sky.
He shrugged. "Not much."
"Funny."
"It seems to be your answer to
everything I ask these days. Why can't it be mine?"
"Fair enough," Pan admitted.
"I have had a lot on my mind..."
"Really." The cloaked Adair
casually rose to a sitting position. If his interest in the fairy
of Mirth had increased significantly, he didn't show it.
Pan sighed inadvertently, tracing the
woodwork beside him with his finger. "A long time ago, I
lost a bet, a personal, binding gamble to the Goblin King. There
was a loophole in the contract, and I ended up indebted to
him...interminably, that is. I've helped him torment humans ever
since."
"An added bonus to the job,
naturally."
The redhead rolled his eyes.
"Naturally. Not that I've ever had a problem with that
particular diversion. Some assignments were less than pleasant,
but who am I to question the motives?
"Low profile, high entertainment
factor. No one could blame me if I got a little carried away and
enjoyed myself. I helped him write history in his books by
finding victims. They ran the Labyrinth. The rest of that
nonsense is self-explanatory.
Pan clenched his fists together. "A
short while ago, however, Jareth became obsessed, no, unhealthily
obsessed with possessing this child, this girl. It was so
disturbing that I reordered a few spells and gave her the gift of
Illusion."
Adair nodded. "So what happened?"
The fey looked down at his hands. He had
squeezed them so hard that they were turning white. "He
never found her. If he had discovered what I had done, I would be
finished. The girl stayed safe, though, thank goodness. She grew
up, safe from harm. Unfortunately, Jareth had just had a bout
with a rather impudent young woman at the time, and was very
moody, insisting that he would always fail to make anyone love
him, want to stay because he had found her. The child.
"I searched for her, albeit
halfheartedly, ever since that day, at his command. She would
find the book someday, he promised. The Goblin King had made sure
of that. And there were only a few copies left. I had the girls
who failed the test destroy the books, a painful but unavoidable
precaution. The last time I checked, there was only one
left."
"Where was it?"
Pan shook his head, amused. "At
Harvard University, of all places. I wish you had been there,
Adair, watching the place grow from a bunch of rotting log cabins
that served as divinity schools into a monumental institution. I
was never worried, though. No one there has the time or the
desire to read fantasy, right?"
"Ha!"
"Exactly. The unthinkable happens. My
final assignment, and I find her. She just puts the ring on, and
Jareth can see her again. Heaven knows what will happen to her
now."
Adair sighed. "Disturbing. That's
fate, though."
Pan rubbed his eyes wearily. "She's
doomed, and it's all my fault."
"Maybe. You were only doing your job.
Time doesn't wait for them like it does for us. You have to
forget about her and move on."
He threw his hands in the air. "As if
I wouldn't if I could!" Pan exclaimed bitterly. "It's
different this time. I cannot conquer the guilt that's tearing me
apart, eating away at my soul. I didn't think I would care for
anyone, any of them." He exhaled slowly, slumping slightly
on the ledge. "But then, I never was a good judge of
leanings of the heart..."
A smile crept out from under Adair's hood.
"Could it be," the fey mused, rubbing his chin,
"that the great, immortal Pan has finally grown a
conscience?"
"You'd understand what I meant if you
met her."
Adair's tone was thoughtful. "Perhaps
I will. You need some form of assistance, or you're going to have
some dreadful migraines in the near future."
Pan laughed, brightening considerably.
"Thank you. So tell me, what in the name of Eden are you
doing lounging around here, dressed like what I would call,
"Little Red Riding Hood meets cross-dresser?"
"You always did spend too much time on
earth," Adair mumbled, burying his face in a pillow.
"Anonymity."
"Ah. Crowd control."
"Whatever."
Suffering his gaze to travel out the window
and over the forests that lay beyond, Pan asked cautiously,
"I hope this doesn't have anything to do with The Night of
Ten Thousand Joys..." he paused, receiving no answer.
"Adair?"
A nonchalant reply. "It might."
The earth fairy threw his hands up in
frustration. "For Luna's sake, just pick someone already!
I've never seen someone so indecisive about choosing a
girl." He ticked off a bunch of fingers on one hand.
"You have to do this, for certain reasons obvious to both
you and me. One. You need someone else to carry half of the
burden your parents so generously bestowed on your head. Two.
It's going to happen at some point, so that point might as well
be now. Three. You have no excuse of a shortage, and even if you
did, you could always steal from Jareth's collection." The
other snorted. "Five. In all honesty, you really don't have
a choice. Do it now, or have your aunt do it for you. And might I
add, if you know Aunt Demeter half as well as I do, you'll
understand the logic in acting now."
Adair sighed. "I suppose I
could make the rounds again...but helping you sounds far more
exciting and distracting to me."
"Oh, I almost forgot," Pan added
gleefully. "You're always lonely and moping about. Not to
mention a dark, brooding grouch."
He ducked just in time to escape the
pillow.
The day passed by in a blur. Beth couldn't
concentrate. All she wanted to do during the entire Latin lecture
on partitive genitives and datives of purpose was to go home and
cry.
Lunch was worse. They had barbecue beef
tips and tater-tots, one of the few decent meal combinations
encountered in upperclassmen menus, and she couldn't eat. Beth
looked out the big glass windows of the Lowell House dining hall,
watching a couple play Frisbee. Do the thirteen days start
today if I haven't had any clues?
"Beth!" Mary whispered loudly.
"What's wrong? Eat! It's food! Pretend it's like the Last
Supper or something. I've looked at the printout schedule, and
believe me, the meats all go downhill from here."
Beth almost smiled. Just then, their friend
Jory, the knight-in-shining-armor who lived next door, sat down
with them. "Hey, girls," he smiled. "Up for a good
time tonight?"
"Huh?" Mary asked.
"Clubbing. It's Friday! You know, Hell
Night at ManRay. We usually don't get a group this big. You both
should come."
Beth desperately needed a distraction.
Clubbing was a decent, if merely temporary, solution. "I
don't have anything to wear," she said as an afterthought,
pouting at the thought of her Goth-less wardrobe. While Jory was
heavily into wearing black and "expressing himself
artistically," as Mary liked to put it, Goth clubbing was an
alternative lifestyle for a night that Beth accepted but never
took seriously.
"Shopping trip!" Mary squealed.
"That's it. We absolutely have to go to Hubba-Hubba
and get you an outfit. It's not open for discussion."
Jory looked at Beth apologetically. She
shrugged and smiled.
A quick ride on the T and the girls were at
the doors of the shop. Most of the outfits involved leather,
shiny material or the color black. "You know," Mary
quipped as they tried on dresses in adjacent fitting rooms,
"My ex bought me my red dress here. I still can't get over
that thing."
"And I've been jealous of you from the
start," Beth retorted. "I'm coming out, so you'd better
be ready to rate me."
They both stepped out of the cubicles. Mary
gasped. "I don't think I've ever seen you exposing that much
skin before," she finally said in a quiet voice.
The dress was black with a red
rose-patterned bodice that fit snuggly around her waist. The
skirt stretched sown to the floor, revealing long slits in the
sides. But it was the low-cut top that caught most of the
attention, highlighting curves and extending off the shoulders to
the draped, slit sleeves.
Beth cringed. "Does it look bad?"
"No."
Mary spent a good half an hour trying on
outfits and finally deciding that her old one was as good as any.
Beth paid for the outfit while Mary was occupied with the
interesting devices they sold at the counter.
"Come on, Mer!" Beth tugged at
her friend's sleeve, rolling her eyes. "Shop for sex toys on
your lunch breaks. We have to get back."
"Be that way," Mary smirked.
"Oh, I almost forgot to ask you. Where 'd you get the
ring?"
Far away, the image of the girls walking
down the street, deep in conversation, floated eerily in the
distorted space of a crystal ball. Jareth turned the image back
and forth. "Watch out, Beth," he warned, smiling
wickedly. "You've wandered right into the palm of my
hand."
--<--<@
**Hope you enjoyed that. If you want to
know what a Boink is, either read the Goblin Companion by Brian
Froud / Terry Jones, or email me, although you probably got the
gist of it right anyway (heh heh heh)...**