Willow's fingers trailed over the stone, starting to feel raw and sore, as if her skin was being worn away by the stone. Maybe it was, after all, her fingertips weren't nearly as hard as stone, and the law of erosion… Her fingers fell against empty air, and she turned, discovering a narrow second corridor. She turned, walking along it for a ways before it turned sharply to the right. The passage was barely wider than she was, and Willow was almost surprised that her hands weren't brushing the walls as she walked.

The corridor wasn't quite clean. More weeds sprouted, thin and scraggly, the stalks yellowed or brown, most of them having the shriveled look of a plant that had long since died. Leaves had fallen to become spiky curled bits that crunched under her feet, ratting and scraping along the rough stones. Pebbles that must have crumbled from the blocks of stone or fallen from the mortar made the footing a bit uncertain, forcing Willow to move slowly or risk twisting her ankle. Long strips of something appeared to have been shredded along the walls, something pale, almost grayish.

Willow lifted a scrap, staring at the bit of shed snakeskin in her hand. There was a faintly discernable diamond pattern. While it didn't exactly match any type of snake that Willow could place, that sort of pattern was usually associated with some type of… rattlesnake. Rattlesnakes were poisonous. Was she trapped in a maze with poisonous snakes?

She started walking more carefully, wary of any larger collection of the weeds and fallen leaves, hesitant that they might be concealing some lethal snake. She tried to search her mind… were Rattlesnakes aggressive? It seemed harder to think about things like that, things that weren't magical… Hadn't some of those old Westerns that Xander's mom watched called people' meaner than a rattlesnake' as an insult? That would have to imply that rattlesnakes were mean, were aggressive. Then they would probably attack her if she found one, and it would try to bite her, and she'd swell up, and there would be pain and agony and muscle convulsions and she'd die, gasping for breath as she flopped around…

No, get a grip. It didn't work quite like that. Snake venom didn't kill that quickly. There would be a short period of time that she could use to get the venom out before it would be too late… Before she couldn't breathe and died. Or did rattlesnake venom affect the muscles, so that it would start her convulsing until her heart exploded? Or maybe it would just paralyze her, making her body stiff and unresponsive, causing her to just collapse and die of starvation and exposure? It all depended on which type of venom the snake had, and how strong the poison was. All snake venoms were not equal… she'd known this once, hadn't she? A science project on the snakes of California… But she couldn't remember.

Snakes hadn't seemed like a big concern lately. They'd spent the last few years worried about vampires and demons, and averting apocalypses and dealing with people getting killed… like Jesse, and Kendra and Buffy. She'd brought Buffy back from the dead, but instead of being happy, everyone seemed afraid and angry. Well, not Buffy, her once friend seemed harsh and cold, and if anything, she seemed to hate Willow now. Magic and research had given them all the answers they'd needed… find what it was, send Buffy to kill it or cast a spell, and everything's over.

And they wondered why she'd started looking for magical answers to everything… Didn't they see the pattern? Logically, if they used magic for so many things, why not for others? Especially when it was so simple… can't afford a new pair of sandals? Magic them back together when the strap breaks. Hair going all frizzy and someone used the last of the conditioner? Magic it smooth again… Where was the harm in that? Why not use her magic when she could? It was logical, not an addiction.

Wasn't it?

But none of that might matter now. She was in the Goblin Kingdom, and she really doubted that her biggest worry would be hair conditioner. Especially not if she ran into the snake that had been shedding all these scraps of snakeskin. If it was only one snake. She wasn't certain… she had a fuzzy memory that Rattlesnakes were territorial, but that didn't mean there couldn't be many of them, scattered through the maze. Maybe they had holes carved into the walls, living in the gaps between the stones…

There was a noise ahead, sort of a soft scraping noise. Willow slowed, almost unwilling to look around the corner. A shadow rose against the wall, something almost like a snake, but the shape subtly wrong, with huge fangs… The head was too big, almost like Madam Mimm as the striped snake in Disney's Sword in the Stone… She squeaked, skipping backwards, her foot slipping on some scattered stones. She fell backwards, the impact jarring her hip bones, her hands scraping on the paving.

"Hssss… Whooo goessss?" The voice was like the rattle of dry leaves, and entirely inhuman.

Her heart was thumping in her chest, horribly strong, almost painful. She scrabbled back, hearing the scrape of something against stone, behind her. She lurched to her feet, a quick glance behind revealing nothing more than dead weeds scraping the stone in the weak breeze. But ahead of her… That was not the breeze, was not weeds. There was something there, inhuman and hissing and probably venomous.

But if there were more, then would walking along the corridor back the way she came be any safer? Wasn't it just sheer good luck that she hadn't already bumped into a snake? Scales scraped on stone again, and before she could even think any more, she was moving. Going upwards, to the top of the wall, away from snakes or snake-goblin things on the ground, hopefully out of its reach.

She drew in a breath as she stood at the top of the wall, her stomach fluttering from fear. Her hands ached, scraped on the stones in her fall. Her butt hurt from hitting the hard stones. Her feet were stiff and sore from walking as much as she had.

"Ssssss…. I know someone wassss here…" The voice came again, and something slithered around the corner. It looked almost like a snake at first, but it had a head far rounder, with tiny dark eyes, and a long purple tongue that kept flicking out into the air. It was some sort of goblin serpent, a dark and frightful naga. Grey and purple scales formed a diamond pattern down it's back, and the part nearest the head was easily as big around as Willow's neck. How big was the creature? More importantly, how likely was it to find her?

Willow looked around, seeing the stone walls spreading before her, creating complicated patterns and mazes that extended into the distance. It looked like the whole place was a nest of mazes, with few scattered patches of trees, and a couple places that looked like groups of buildings. The castle rose from the mazes, somehow looming over everything else despite the fact that the numerous high towers should have made it look graceful and delicate. It didn't look delicate, it looked menacing and scary and impossible.

She knew that she wouldn't like this, but she turned, carefully hopping along walls moving towards the castle. It probably wouldn't work forever, but until then, why not take advantage of the fact that she could see?

End part 7.

In his castle, Jareth lounged on his throne, one leg flung over the arm of it as he leaned on the other side, chuckling at the images of the people in Sunnydale. "Very nice, it only took them four hours to figure out that their so called friends were missing. I'll have to bring that up if either of them make it to the center. And the child who sent them away isn't even sorry about it… wonderful."

A pair of goblins came into the room, carrying a crying infant between them. "Your majesty, we have the child from the Sutcliffe house."

"Good. Put her over there, with the other babies. Be sure to give her some milk to drink, we don't want any more puny goblins joining the kingdom." He glanced at the floating crystals, eyes searching out the young woman, barely more than a child, that had just wished away her infant. She had bruises over her body, and her eyes were far older than her face. "Always people wishing away their children, thinking that would solve all their troubles. Human can be such fools."

He waved the viewing plane away, his hand shattering the image, which fell to the ground as a scattering of flower petals. He looked back at the crystals, pulling forward the one holding the image of the girl called Amy. "Let's see what you're up to."

She lay in the grass of one of his gardens. Above her, a peach tree spread its branches, the goblin fruit hanging from the branches in all stages, from blossom to perfection. Tall grass nearly covered the girl, the bandage wrapped around her hand now sticky with fruit juice and blood. Her long brownish hair was spilling through the grass, picking up a paler tone, one that almost reminded him of tree bark.

Stretching, Amy sat up, a yawn spilling forth. She stood up, brushing the grass and leaves from her clothing, brushing against the grass with her hands. She picked a ripe peach, biting deeply into it, breakfasting on an assortment of the different fruits. She even plucked one of the blue melons, hollowing out a portion of it to use as a crude cup from the stream.

"No sense in going hungry, after all. And the water's good, if cold. Wouldn't something have happened otherwise?" She drank deeply, the water spilling over her, splashing at her face, her shoulders and hands. It didn't feel nearly so cold now.

Almost slowly, she began wandering again, headed towards the end of the garden. She had to get to the castle in the center, so that she could go home. It was very important to go home, back to a place where she understood the way things worked. Somewhere that she could get new clothing. A place that wasn't drowning in magic. The magic here was different, strange and wild, worked through everything, the walls, the grass, even the trees. She wondered if she would even be able to use it, hesitant from all the differences.

Well, there would only be one way to learn, right? She leaned against a wall, closing her eyes as she tried to reach the magic. It was slippery, wild and strong in her hands, and she whispered softly, trying to hold her focus. It seemed so much easier to think clearly now, and she wondered how long she had slept. "come on now, just a little magic, just to get something better to wear, something stronger, safer, not all torn and stained… come on now…"

Power washed over her, like a wave cresting, and she gasped, feeling like she was sinking, drowning. Her knees buckled, and she fell to the ground, her wounded hand throbbing at the impact. Her eyes opened, one dark as shadow, the other wide and frightened and human. Finally, it ebbed away, and she could breathe again. Trembling, she stood up, looking at what she was now wearing.

Pants flowed over her legs, not too tight, but showing the shape of them. They were of some strange material that looked like tree bark and felt like leather. Her feet were now encased with boots of the same substance, but a bit darker and thicker. A pale shirt with loose sleeves and a wide neckline fell past her hips, and a belt and pouch were at her waist. She also had a green vest and hat on. It didn't look like normal clothing, it looked like something from a fairy tale.

She brushed her hand against the vest, wondering why it felt like leaves. "Cool."

With that delighted word, Amy continued, humming slightly off key as she entered the next maze. This one was made of hedges reaching eight feet in the air, covered with shimmering green leaves and tiny red berries that smelled of cinnamon and pine. Fallen needles lined the pathways, creating a soft cushion for her footsteps, and making this portion much less tiresome than her earlier travels. How long had she been here? How long would it be until she found the center, until she could go home?

As Amy kept walking, it never occurred to her that her new garments looked curiously similar to those worn by the goblins. She didn't stop to wonder why the water that had been so cold before her slumber felt only slightly cold now. It didn't cross her mind to wonder how she'd made any use of a magic that only hours before she wouldn't have dared touch.

Perhaps she'd never heard the stories that had said not to eat of the food in the lands of the Fae. Legends that spoke of those who ate being changed, never finding pleasure in mortal food again, or being trapped in the Fae lands forever. If Amy Madison had ever heard those stories, which had rather fallen out of fashion since the inventions of steam engines, and the use of electricity, perhaps she would have been more careful. But it was now too late to worry about what she had known before, or why she had ignored warnings.

Amy Madison had eaten of the Goblin Fruit, and had deliberately allowed her blood to fall on the Goblin Lands. Nothing would ever be the same for her again.

End part 8.