Three
She wandered. It may even have been in circles, but she just needed to know. She had to see for herself this new Labyrinth.
The land she journeyed through now was bare and monotonous — tree after tree, then a field of rocks, then more trees, an occasional stream — except that every so often she would pass through a scene of unimaginable beauty: a clearing embracing a misty waterfall, a cliff overlooking a peaceful valley, a lakeside glinting with sun. But she didn't stop at any of them. Lovely as they were, there was something false about them; like the storybook conventions of the clearing, they seemed more like illusions than any of the fantastic, unprecedented things she had seen in the old Labyrinth.
But for the faint rustle of the wind, it was utterly silent. She met no living creature other than the trees among which she moved. The unicorn had disappeared, along with the fairies, and the clearing seemed a world away. As she walked, no goblin soldiers accosted her; no irate labyrinthine denizens chased after her with sticks or popped through holes to ogle at her. No friends leaped out of hiding to welcome her back.
She hadn't really expected them to. But part of her wanted to see Hoggle and Ludo and Sir Didymus and even silly Ambrosius more than anything else in the world.
Hell, right now, I'd even welcome a dance with a Fiery. Anything but this awful, phony, dead silence.
Sarah felt a warm humming in her brain, like a faint and uncomfortable electrical current. She felt slack with dread, as she had back, way back, on the road, under the gathering lightning of the thunderstorm. She had no idea where this hike was leading, and she wasn't sure she wanted to know. She saw nothing that made her comfortable — and then, startled, wondered why she had expected to.
The Labyrinth isn't known for its comfort, she reasoned. It's supposed to be weird and strange and confusing, so that I would never be able to find my way out.
She paused under a wide, thick-barked tree to gather her thoughts. Another stream happened to be conveniently nearby, from which she drank gratefully, then sank wearily onto one of the tree's giant, agreeably flat roots. The view from this spot, a short stretch of hill blanketed with wildflowers, was pleasant and tranquil, and she felt herself relaxing.
Then she bolted upright as she remembered her last words:
… never be able to find my way out.
Sarah shivered. Perhaps there are other ways to accomplish that end …
Sometime in the afternoon, she guessed, from the red sun hanging low in the sky — though time was pretty much impossible to follow in the Labyrinth — he appeared, as she had known he would. It was in a rocky niche beside an inexplicably tall cliff, and the way his presence filled the space left no doubt that he had chosen the position to his advantage.
"So, Sarah, did you not like my little sylvan glade?"
She instantly felt her body freeze, but she managed to hold on to the front of nonchalance she had studied back in the clearing and clung to like a lifeline on her lonely trek. "No, that's not it at all. It was quite beautiful. But come on, Jareth, I'm not ten years old."
He didn't seem hurt, but instead grinned widely. Quite a few teeth showed. "Ah, that's my girl. Then what do you now consider to be a more … engaging fantasy world?"
"Why do you want to know?"
"Perhaps I am just … curious."
"Perhaps I don't want to chat about my fantasies with you."
"Perhaps."
Silence. He hadn't stopped smiling, and it was unnerving.
She squared her stance and looked at him, taking a very deep breath and hoping her fluttering heart didn't show. "What do you want, Jareth?"
"Ah, now I want something."
"You always want something." She felt herself go cold and clammy as she spoke, like a student mouthing back to a strict teacher and trying to sound unafraid in the face of a whipping. "Why the clearing? Why a Labyrinth like this? What is this leading to?"
"The castle, of course. The Labyrinth always leads to my castle."
"So it is about you, then. I'm supposed to find you."
"Not necessarily. You were perfectly welcome to stay where you were — or where you are. It is your Labyrinth, Sarah; make your home where you like."
"But why — "
"You ask more questions than you were used to do." His flat tone indicated tacit disapproval.
"That bothers you?" she immediately flung back. She had begun to feel as if she were floating.
"Mind yourself, my dear. This new Labyrinth is not without its Bogs."
A-ha! A threat! She glimpsed familiar ground now. "I thought this Labyrinth was my creation?"
"And you do not have realms within yourself where a Bog of Eternal Stench could thrive?"
It hit home more than she wanted him to know. "And how would you know?"
He laughed delightedly. "Oh, everyone has their dark secrets, Sarah. And yours are closer to the surface than most."
"Does this have a point?"
"Only this." And he uncrossed his arms to hold a perfectly spherical crystal to her face. It was inches from her eyes, so that she had to look cross-eyed to see it clearly, but she could tell that it was perfectly smooth and flawless. Within it, half-formed images danced.
"I know your dark spaces, and I know your light. I know what you want most. Why won't you accept it from me?"
She looked away from the crystal into his expectant face. "Why do you keep insisting that will work? That you can just wave a beautiful thing in my face, or a beautiful place for that matter, and I will just drop down in joy and gratitude and be content for the rest of my days? I know that you have some ulterior motive. I know that it will have a price. Just tell me what you want, already."
He tucked the crystal away somewhere in his cloak. "I am pained that you do not believe me. What reason have I given you to doubt me?"
She laughed, a short, humorless bark. "My last visit ring a bell? You were going to turn my brother into a goblin, and me into a slave."
"I did only that which you asked of me."
His calmness annoyed her. "Yeah, right, sure. Well, you sure went to a lot of trouble. What would you get out of it? A new goblin and a happy little love-slave drooling after your every move. It can't have been that simple."
She expected a repercussion any moment now. When it didn't come, the thoughts began spilling over themselves. She had thought long and hard in that silly clearing, and in the whole of her journey over this impossible land. It was now or never. What have I got to lose?
"Ah, King Jareth," she declared, looking off over the horizon. "Master of a whole bunch of silly goblins and a handful of stolen babies. Surely you were satisfied? But no, you wanted more. Why not make a Labyrinth? Lure people here, and either make them into submissive toys, or watch and laugh as they get lost and lose their minds? Sounds like fun. Was I the first? Somehow I doubt it. You got bored, always bored. So you tried something else.
"You made your Labyrinth a challenge, all right, but not an infallible one. There were creatures there who could help me, and did. If you made this Labyrinth just for me, then why would you let this happen? Because you can give other people anything they want — at least in theory — but you can't do it for yourself. You wanted me to defeat it, because you were tired of living here, alone, with no surprises, no challenges … you could create anything you wanted, control it all, but it bored you. Because after all, you can't make up a real challenge for yourself, can you? Because then, subconsciously, you know what it would take to solve it. It has to come from outside yourself — outside the Labyrinth. That is why you needed me.
"That first time, with Toby — that was just the first stage of the game, wasn't it? An audition to see whom you would find interesting enough to continue? Is the whole kidnapping-babies thing just a scam to get people into your … casting call? So you could create for them a new Labyrinth, a new and even harder level?"
Jareth merely tsked. "How cynical, my dear." He did not respond to her theories either in the affirmative or the negative, seeming to dismiss them as an adult would the harmless fantasies of a child. Or the dramatic ravings of a frustrated actress.
Sarah felt exhilarated now, as though she were acting in a play where the pacing was right on and there was no time to drop a line. "If someone just takes that crystal of yours, if they just give up and take the easy way out, then they're of no use to you. You put them aside while you wait for someone better to show up. And at the same time you fear that new person's coming, because it's a risk, a risk to your kingdom and to your control." Sarah wanted to laugh. She felt safe; it was only a play! Just like the last time. And in this performance, she knew her lines perfectly.
Jareth was beginning to lose patience. He uncrossed his arms and started to speak, a command, no doubt, on his lips, but Sarah raised her voice and rushed on.
"If somebody does beat your Labyrinth, then that means they are that challenge, that thing you love and fear beyond all things! And that's the one thing you can't resist; you love it and you fear it, even though it means you are then committed to a path to either complete happiness, or complete destruction!"
Absolute silence followed this declamation.
Jareth's icy growl sliced through it. "You know nothing, foolish Sarah. The popular psychology of your world cannot compare to this reality, and you would do better not to meddle in truths of which you know so little."
"But you want me to meddle, don't you? You chose me because that is my nature! You wanted a challenge! Such self-destructive tendencies, Goblin King. Because you know… you have no power over me!"
Sarah stood tall within the cold, violent glare of that individual. For a moment she expected him to hit her. She actually welcomed the blow as vindication.
But instead he laughed. Long and loud, the old sinister laugh she remembered, a hint that something nasty was about to occur. And he turned and walked out of the clearing.
The shock took a moment to process. Left alone, her bravado failed and she sank to her knees on the hard gravel, cursing herself for a fool.
It was not a play. And she had just done a very stupid thing.
She felt the old, familiar shadow grip and succumbed to despair.
"Myself," she whispered to the rocky plain, "me, I am tired of challenges."