Willow was making her way along the tops of the walls of the snake holding maze. She kept glancing down, seeing the same scattered stones, dying weeds, and bits of snakeskin. That and the similarity of the walls was enough to tell her this was still the same lesser maze inside the great labyrinth. But she wasn't very surprised by that.
She hopped again, the motion sending a scattering of pebbles down into the corridor. Unfortunately, they landed on a slumbering naga, the patter of the pebbles disturbing its slumber. And nagas can be very cranky when woken from their slumber.
"Sssssaaaa! Inntruderr… Where are you… sssssss…" The goblin naga was angry, and rose up, the top of its head peeking up over the walls. It saw the figure of the human, hopping over the tops of the walls. This made the naga very angry indeed.
It's tail began to hammer against the stone walls, acting almost like a drum. The sound echoed, the vibration passing along the walls, rousing the others. It was rather similar to a particularly loud and offensive alarm clock. All over the maze, the goblin nagas woke, becoming even more surly and hostile. Something had disturbed them, and whatever it was would have to suffer. There were enough of them to make certain of that.
Willow had just landed on the next wall when she felt it vibrate. Almost like a drumbeat… she could hear dull thuds in time with it. There was also what started as a single angry hissing noise. That single hiss was soon joined by more, and the walls began to shake harder. Frantically, she looked back, seeing an angry goblin-snake peeking over the wall, this one bigger than the one that she'd seen before. And it looked very, very unhappy.
Just as she was starting to wonder how bad that could be, Willow saw more heads peeking over the walls. She could easily see a dozen goblin-snake heads over the walls, and more bumps that might have been the heads of smaller nagas. They all seemed very angry. She had the feeling that the target of their anger was her. Oh dear.
She began jumping again, not towards the castle, but towards the closest edge of another maze. There were far too many nagas going towards the castle, she'd never make it past all of them. But there was something to the left, a mass of walls that looked like smooth gray marble. It almost reminded her of lines of tombstones… And she really doubted that it would be safe and welcoming. Something thumped against the wall, and she saw a furious purple and gray naga glaring at her, sharp teeth glistening damply.
Leaping to the next wall, she made her decision. Better an uncertain risk of the tombstone looking walls than the certain fate of the nagas getting her. Now, she just had to hope that she could make it. That she could dodge and avoid the nagas long enough to reach something that might be a little closer to safety.
She was almost there, only a handful of walls away from the new maze, one that looked to be full of yellowed grass and shadows. She felt it more than seeing, felt an angry presence rise up behind her, heard the hissing and the scrape of scales on stone. Willow leapt forwards, hoping desperately to get away in time.
She felt two lines of flaming pain burn across the back of her calf, even as the cloth tore with a loud sound. It burned, hurting far more than it should, or maybe just as it should. She didn't have any previous experience with snake bites, and even less with the bites of goblin nagas in magic kingdoms. She landed awkwardly, stubbing her toes hard, and lurching as she frantically wheeled her arms for balance. A second head moved, jaws snapping shut a hair's width too short to catch her foot.
She toppled more than jumped down into the new maze, her lungs aching and her leg a mass of burning pain. Wincing, she turned her leg to look at the injury, seeing the twin gashes along her leg, the skin around them already turning an angry red. Guess that answered the question of poison…
Now, what could she do about it? She tore the rest of the pant leg, and began concentrating, trying to use her own magic to pull the poison out. She didn't want to try to touch the magic of this place, uncertain if she could control it, if it would change her, or hurt her. The poison burned, making it hard to concentrate, to focus her attention. Finally, she was certain that she couldn't do anything else for it, and she tried to wrap up the bite with the length of cloth.
She didn't know how many other strange and terrifying creatures she would find here, but it couldn't be good to walk around with her leg bleeding. It felt like an especially bad idea in a place that reminded her of a graveyard at twilight. She kept going, discovering that after a few corridors and turns, the areas started to open up, looking less like a maze, and more like… well, more like a cemetery. Instead of the solid walls, there were rows of low shapes, like uncarved headstones, with occasional mausoleum looking buildings here and there. She shivered, noticing that this place felt colder.
Soon, all of her but her leg felt cold, and she was shivering, her skin in goose bumps as she limped her way along. She couldn't stay here, this place would be the death of her. She had to find her way to the castle, to the center of the Labyrinth. As she kept walking, she noticed that the stones changed, gaining words carved on them, names and dates. Some even had withered flowers and wreaths beside them. It looked all too much like a cemetery.
Her nerves screaming at her, she limped over to one, carefully freeing a spike of wood that held what looked to have been an evergreen wreath. She was now in possession of a flimsy stake. It wasn't much, but it was a little better than nothing. She limped on, not seeing but expecting the gleaming eyes that followed her, peering from the doors of the mausoleums.
In his castle, Jareth smirked as he let go of the crystal showing an image of Willow. "Well, do you think that you'll fare better in a place that reminds you of home? Sunnydale isn't the only place where the graves are not so quiet. Very clever to go over the top of the maze, and it almost kept you safe from the naga… very good indeed. I can use more clever people in my kingdom."
End part 9.
Amy walked on, the scents of cinnamon and pine wrapping around her almost soothingly. The sun was a comforting light, pouring over her, making everything bright and easy to see. The faint whine of insects was a hum in the background, and some of them even buzzed around her. Absently, she wondered why they weren't biting her, weren't inflicting that misery on her as well. Maybe the scent of the leaves was a sort of insect deterrent?
She heard a noise, the jangling of metal bits, and thumping of boot steps, and a sort of dull rattling noise. Amy froze, pressing herself almost into the hedge as she watched a group of goblins marching by. They had dark boots over long feet, and their pale shirts had been stained at patched, some hanging loose over thin bony shapes, others stretched taut over huge round bellies. Tanned hands bearing thick fingers with tough, dirty nails clutched at clubs and daggers, and beady eyes peered out over bulbous noses. Ears stood out like open doors, some rounded, some pointy, others torn and ragged. One goblin even had ears almost like a donkey, with matching yellowed buck teeth. They should have looked almost comical, but somehow, they didn't. They looked dangerous.
She breathed a sigh of relief when she could no longer hear their footsteps. The goblin patrol was gone, she could step away from the hedge and continue trying to reach the castle. Once she was there, everything would be better, and she could go home. Home where she could fix her mistakes. Smiling, Amy prepared to step out of the hedge. Tried to step out.
But the soft evergreen needles were stuck fast to her, like glue. And for the first time, she noticed how they gleamed softly with a coating of sap, the source of the pine scent. She also noticed the tiny insects that had been caught on the needles, almost like flypaper. She pulled, struggling to get out, feeling the needles stuck to her clothing, her skin, her hair… She gasped and whimpered, feeling strands of hair pulled out by the roots, sensations like a band-aide being ripped from her skin repeated dozens, hundreds of times.
Then the first berry burst. Cinnamon scent filled the air, and the juice dripped onto the backs of her fingers, where it itched and burned. She almost screamed, barely managing to hold in the sound of pain. It felt like an eternity before she managed to rip herself free of the hedge, her skin blistering from the berry juice, feeling raw all over from the sticky needles. Her scalp hurt, long strands of hair caught in the hedge as proof that she'd been there. Her eyes stung from the tears.
She didn't like this place anymore, and wanted to go home.
Sniffling, she kept moving, not even paying any attention to the tattered scrap of clothing that had fallen from her hand to the ground. The blisters over the back of her hand distracted her from noticing the lines where the rocks had cut her. She didn't notice how instead of gaping raw cuts, they had become narrow scars that had a faintly green cast to them. Her whole body ached, and the scent of cinnamon had covered her, clinging and making her eyes water even more. Her skin felt raw and painful, every exposed inch either blistered from the berries or feeling abused from the sticky needles.
"I should have known that the hedge wouldn't be safe." She staggered onwards, just thankful that none of the berried had fallen into her shirt or pants, to blister her on even more tender parts of her body. "Nothing is safe here."
Amy staggered onwards, flinching every time her hair brushed over the blisters on the back of her neck or the tops of her shoulders. She was certain that she must look frightful. Eventually, the sticky hedges gave way to place with a huge striped tent that reminded her of a circus. The hedges opened into what looked like a small courtyard. The only options from the courtyard were back into the hedges, or into the tent.
Amy took a deep breath, and went inside. What else could she do?
Darkness washed over her, and she paused, trying to let her eyes adjust. She could smell sawdust, and stale popcorn, and that clinging scent of cinnamon that lingered from those hedge berries. Eventually, her eyes had adjusted as much as they could, and Amy continued into the tent. She could hear other footsteps, the sounds of something thumping against wood, metal clanging against metal somewhere to the left, the scampering of feet, and occasional screams. There was also goblin laughter, most of it higher pitched and almost malicious sounding.
She barely noticed the occasional mirror, or the way that the dark area and her posture, currently bent and limping from the pain, almost resembled a goblin. Didn't think about the way that her skin had become all red, lumpy looking from the hundreds of blisters. She did notice that her hair looked entirely disheveled, almost scraggly since that nasty hedge had pulled some of it out.
Soon, there was a fork in the path, or was that hallway? It was all set up like a tent, so hallway seemed more natural. She went to the left, and entered a section labeled 'Fun Howse' in big, scrawling red letters. A caricatured goblin face peered through the O, beady eyes almost seeming to follow her across the floor.
Inside was a tangled nest of corridors, with wobbling floors, trailing bits of something that brushed over faces and backs, which was pure agony over the blisters. Warped mirrors studded the halls, reflecting distorted images. It was unsettling how strange and goblin-like her reflections in them looked. Shivering, Amy tried to hurry through the tent maze, hoping that it would take her closer to the castle.
End part 10.
