Sarah had thought walking the pathways of the Labyrinth that were becoming comfortingly familiar would calm her. Instead, every step she took seemed to push her anger a little higher.
"That jerk," she whispered, walking quickly, flinging herself around corners and twists in the path without a single care for her safety. "He can't keep me here. He can't. I hate him. I hate him!"
She lashed out at a wall, smacking it solidly with her palm, receiving a few scratches from loose stones for her trouble. She hissed in an angry breath and looked down at her reddening palm, her temper flaring higher. Ridiculously, she blamed Jareth for her palm being scratched.
"If he took better care of this Labyrinth, I wouldn't have scratched myself," she muttered savagely. "If he hadn't tried to control me, I wouldn't be so angry. If he hadn't brought me here, I wouldn't be so miserable." Suddenly, a tear trickled down her cheek. She reached up and brushed it away furiously. She was miserable. At that moment, she would have given anything to be anywhere else.
"I want to go home," she whispered, her throat aching. "I hate this. I hate being a prisoner. I hate fighting with my clothes. I hate it here. I wish I were anywhere else, even dead." Then, louder, screaming it at the Labyrinth, "I wish I were dead!"
She sniffled weakly, then turned to go back the way she'd come.
"What...? No!" Sarah glared at the wall behind her. "That wasn't there. I just came from... damn this place." She spun to face the direction she had been going, but the long path was now gone, and a sharp bend led to her left. "I hate you," she whispered savagely to the Labyrinth, then flung herself into the bend. She pulled up short with a weak gasp. Ahead of her, much further down the way, a huge shape was blocking the path. She could make out no details from where she stood, but a feeling of malignancy surrounded it. It gave a slow, languid movement, and Sarah felt her nostrils widening in disgust as she caught a whiff of foul air. It smelled awful, like something dead and rotting. It reminded her of the uncooked meat that had spoiled in the very back of the refrigerator when the power went off for a week and Adelle had forgotten to get everything out of the 'fridge. It was pungent and disgusting, and it made her breakfast crowd into her throat.
"What... is it?" she whispered to herself, not meaning to speak aloud. Almost as if it had heard her, the creature gave a jerk, then slowly raised its head--or at least, that's what she thought it was. It didn't look like a head at all, but like a misshapen lump of clay. It appeared to have eyes, but they were multi-faceted, like a spider's eyes, and set into the head in a way that didn't make sense. One was in the center of the head, where a nose would be on a person, another was near where an ear should be, and another was dangling uselessly from the chin. No, not uselessly--even as she stared, the thin tendril the eye trailed from twisted and writhed, lifting the eye slowly to look at her.
Oh, God, she thought, frozen and trembling. I have to get away. If I don't get away, I'll go mad before it kills me. I can't look at this thing and not go mad. And she had no doubt that it would kill her. This thing was not a nice beast like Ludo; it was cruel, malicious, and evil in ways Jareth could never match with his sharp words and cheating tricks.
Slowly, the thing turned toward her, it's huge bulk seeming to drift like shadows. It took a lumbering step toward her, and Sarah felt the fear that had frozen her to the spot break, and she turned to run back around the corner. But the corner was gone. The path seemed to stretch forever behind her, drifting into a haze at the end, like her first glimpse inside the gates of the Labyrinth.
I'm trapped, she thought, trembling. I'm trapped with this horrible thing!
Behind her, she heard the scrape of a heavy foot on the stones of the path, and she spun to face the creature. For something so huge and misshapen, it moved quickly. Already, it had closed half the distance between them.
Sarah ran.
She knew she couldn't really get away from the thing. She would just go on and on and eventually she would tire, and it would catch her. No one could run forever, and she couldn't expect the Labyrinth to twist and help her escape. It had done this to her. It wasn't going to help her now.
Oh, God, I should call to Jareth. He could help, she thought wildly, her breath wheezing in her ears. Suddenly, she skidded, nearly falling as the realization slowly swept over her. Jareth wouldn't care. Jareth wouldn't help her, even if she screamed. Then, with a shuddering that made her squeeze her eyes shut, she realized Jareth had sent her into the arms of this creature.
No, Sarah thought weakly, and pushed herself off the wall she had collapsed against, running again. He's angry at me, but Jareth wouldn't kill me. He wouldn't do this.... would he?
She was gasping, her lungs burning, sweat trickling down her back. It doesn't matter, she thought, stumbling again, and pulling herself up. Even if he didn't do this, it won't matter. I can't keep running. My legs are aching with every step. I'm slowing down. I know it. It's going to catch me. There's nothing I can do.
She stumbled again, and this time it was much, much harder to get up. Sweat dripped into her eyes, and every breath rasped at her throat. She wasn't going to escape.
Jareth was pacing the dining hall. The two chairs Sarah had thrown at him were righted again, and the table was cleared. He wasn't angry any longer, but he was giving Sarah some time. He had foolishly thought that she was resigned to her fate.
She seemed so content yesterday, he thought, frowning. He sighed, turning to pace back the opposite direction, his boot heels clacking on the stones. I guess I should have expected an outburst sooner or later. She isn't easily controlled, after all.
He turned again, pacing back the direction he'd just come from. He wanted to go to her and apologize. He knew he ought to, but he refused to. How could she think he would eventually send her back? Hadn't he made it clear she belonged Underground? Didn't she realize she belonged there, not Above in the fast-paced modern society? Didn't she know she belonged with him?
"Stupid," he whispered, lips tightening. Thoughts like that only drove him mad. Of course she didn't realize that she belonged Underground. She had only been there four days--not long enough for anyone to resign themselves to their fate. It had taken him a hundred years to begin to understand he belonged Underground, ruling the Labyrinth, and not in one of the richer, more opulent worlds. The magick in those worlds rejected him; he was strange even to the magick that vibrated in those worlds. He was the bastard child of a strange mating, and his soul vibrated with something too Other to belong anywhere. Sometimes, he wondered if the Labyrinth hadn't been created especially for him. Until he had found it, nothing but the goblins had lived there. When he discovered it, a tiny, glittering world all his own, he had claimed it easily. The magick there hadn't rejected him, but embraced him. Just like it was embracing Sarah.
"She doesn't belong on Earth. It can't accept her. She belongs here." With a growl, he conjured a crystal from the air, holding it gently on his gloved fingertips, concentrating on Sarah. He wanted to see her, see if she was calm enough for him to approach. If he had to, he would grovel to her to make her forgive him. He had offered to be her slave before. If that was what it would take to make her understand her position in all the magickal worlds, then he would.
"What...?" he whispered, as her image shimmered onto the crystal. Tears lined her cheeks, and her hair was tangled. Her face was pale except for two bright spots on her cheeks. Suddenly, echoing clearly from the crystal, he heard a hideous, grating roar. Then, he knew.
Sarah couldn't run any further. Her legs gave out like weak clay. She fell bruisingly onto the stones of the path. Behind her, the thing roared. It was a horrible sound, like an avalanche and a car crash and the sound of a huge tree snapping in the middle. It sounded like death and disaster, and it was agonizingly close behind her. She lifted her heavy head on a weary neck, eyes huge as she turned to look over her shoulder. The creature was barely twenty feet behind her. It roared again, and the smell of it came to her on the roar. Without knowing how, she pulled herself to her feet, stumbling up, facing the creature. She couldn't run--she could barely stand--but she wasn't going to just die. She would fight it.
There were no branches laying around for her to defend herself with, and when she pried at a stone in the wall, she only tore her fingernails. She was going to die, and she couldn't do anything about it.
"Sarah! The desperation in the voice made new tears appear in her eyes, and Sarah jerked her head around to look behind her. Jareth was only five feet away, his eyes wide. "Sarah, get back!"
Her head snapped forward in time to see the huge paw the creature had raised while she'd been looking at Jareth begin to slam toward her.
It's as big as my head, she thought dazedly, watching with a detached fascination as it swung toward her chest. And the nails are as long as my hands.
She stumbled back, just one step, but it was enough to avoid the paw--almost. One long nail knicked into her chest just below her collarbone, and sent her spinning into the wall opposite the one she stood by. She crashed into it solidly, knocking the air out of herself. When she managed to suck in a painful breath and raise her head, she found Jareth standing before her, the creature shielded mercifully from her view by his body. She rose, wheezing, trying to grab Jareth's arm to pull him away.
"Sarah, go!" He snapped the words out, keeping his eyes on the huge beast that stood uncertainly, looking at the two of them. "Go now, Sarah, quickly. The Labyrinth will take you directly back to the castle." Sarah took a few steps away from him, then spun back.
"No! You come, too!" He'd done nothing but torment her, but she couldn't leave him alone with that... that... thing.
"Sarah, leave! Don't worry--it won't hurt me."
Sarah opened her mouth to protest, but at that moment the creature struck. Jareth was preoccupied with shouting at her, his head turned so he could lock a glare onto her and hurry her along, so he was not at all prepared. The huge paw hit him squarely in the chest, lifting him like a child's toy and spinning him in the air like some special effect in a movie. He flew twenty feet down the corridor, the wind of his passing lifting Sarah's hair from her shoulders to flutter behind her. With a feeble squeak, Sarah fled after him, crouching next to him. His shirt was in ribbons, seven huge sores scratched into the flesh of his chest. His eyes were shut, and for a second Sarah was sure he was dead. Then, weakly, he lifted his head, gesturing with one hand. As if the creature knew what he was doing, it roared, rushing toward them. But the open path was becoming a hazy memory as a wall slowly appeared. The creature was hidden from view after a moment, but the smell lingered. Behind the wall, Sarah could hear it roaring.
"We'd better leave. I've never known them to try to climb over the walls, but I've never known them to attack me, either." Jareth's voice was winded, but not weak. He was already struggling to his feet--using the wall to help pull himself up. His blond hair was ruffled and mussed, and blood was leaking down his torn chest, but he seemed only breathless.
"Are you all right?" Sarah gasped, putting out a hand as if to touch the torn skin.
"I'll be fine. Now come on, quickly." He grabbed her arm and half dragged her around a bend that appeared out of solid wall. After a few more twists, Sarah found them standing at the back door of the castle. Jareth paused then, looking at her carefully.
"You're bleeding," he said softly, touching her chin lightly to lift her head so that he could see the cut across her chest better.
"You're worse," she snapped, jerking her head away.
"I'll heal quickly," Jareth replied.
Sarah opened her mouth to growl a reply at him, but stopped when she saw his chest. Already the gaping wounds were less hideous than they had been only moments before. They had stopped bleeding, and almost seemed to be shrinking before her eyes.
"I need to get a better look at that cut. It can go septic quickly, Sarah. The Aljunnu are deadly."
"Is that what that thing was?" Sarah gasped as Jareth walked toward the huge double door leading into the castle.
"Yes, and you should come with me. A wound from an Aljunnu can get bad in only seconds."
Sarah reached up to touch the scrape, and pulled her hand back quickly with a hiss of pain. The wound was tender and aching, and a little hot to the touch. It was definitely getting worse. Waves of fire seemed to seep from it into her, and her legs gave a weak tremble not entirely due to all the running they'd just done.
"I feel... odd," Sarah muttered. Jareth gave her a piercing look, the quickly walked back, scooping her into his arms.
"I apologize for having to do this, but I need to treat that wound now." He carried her inside, but Sarah barely noticed. The fuzziness that was creeping into her brain was worse now, coming and going in waves of heat and ice. She clung to Jareth's ruined shirt with a hand that felt detached from her body, shivering despite the fact that she felt too hot.
Sarah was not aware when Jareth laid her down. Her eyes had fuzzed over a few moments before, and she had shut them to keep the rooms from spinning around her as he carried her. Briefly, she felt a cool hand touching her cheeks, then it was taken away. She heard the rustle of clothing, but couldn't seem to locate from which direction the noise was coming. It was getting hard to breathe, and she felt like she was twitching and spasming, although she didn't think she was moving at all. Gently, she felt a warm breath blown across the searing pain on her chest, then fingers brushing over it with infinite care. A warm, herbal scent touched her nose, chasing away some of the confusion. She heard murmured words, and felt the heat and cold drift away like a bad dream. Slowly, she opened her eyes, loathe to move. She felt wonderfully comfortable suddenly, and felt it was too much trouble even opening her eyes. She realized she was laying on a long, comfortable couch, and sat up very slowly. Jareth was sitting languidly in a chair near her, watching her. As she sat up, he stood, walking over.
"How do you feel?" he asked softly, looking at her with a curiously closed expression.
"Good," Sarah said softly, reaching up to touch her chest. She gasped, then tilted her head down in disbelief, staring at the bodice of her dress. There was no rip or bloodstain, though she knew it had been torn and covered in blood only a moment before. She patted cautiously at the wound, then frowned when she felt no pain. "What happened?"
"It is gone," Jareth replied softly, still watching her with that same empty expression on his face. "I used a medicinal salve and a bit of magick to erase it. It should trouble you no more."
"Thank you," Sarah said softly, looking up at him. His own chest was bare of wounds now, too, although his shirt was still shredded.
"Sarah... I want to ask you how you came to be with the Aljunnu."
"Oh... I was... mad. I guess I just didn't watch where I was going."
"Sarah." His tone was faintly scolding, and Sarah's spine straightened in annoyance.
"It's not like I wanted to be there. You don't have to scold me like a child."
"You did want to be there," Jareth replied. "While you were unconscious, I held a brief conversation with the Labyrinth. It took you to the Aljunnu because it is under orders to do as you command, and you wanted yourself dead."
"Oh," Sarah said, her pride and anger deflating like a pricked balloon as she realized what she'd almost done to herself. "I didn't mean to, Jareth."
"I know. But the magick here doesn't know that, Sarah. It only tried to do what you wanted it to do. You can't treat the magick that lightly, Sarah. It doesn't understand wishes that aren't meant. It can't tell a joke from a real want. It will try to please you, Sarah, no matter what you wish for. You wished to be dead, and it took you to the Aljunnu so that wish could be granted." Jareth stooped, staring into her wide, gray eyes. "That was a stupid thing to do, Sarah. You very nearly killed yourself."
"You saved me. Why?"
Jareth stood, backing away from her as if she had struck at him, staring at her with open confusion, his beautiful eyes wide. "Why? Sarah..." He made a weak gesture with his gloved hands, then shook his head. "Sarah... I had to."
"You didn't," Sarah replied, standing. "But I'm glad you did. I didn't really want to die, and..." She stopped, then burst out with, "I wouldn't think you'd care."
"What?" Jareth asked softly, looking somehow ruffled and uncomfortable. He looked the way she sometimes did when she was not ready to be around people, when she was too emotional to stand the sight of another person. She rushed on without thinking, trying not to look at him--and failing.
"You're half demon. You should enjoy me being killed by the Aljunnu."
"You... think I'd enjoy that?" His voice was hurt, and his eyes betrayed the awkward pain he felt.
"You've enjoyed sending others to the Aljunnu before. I thought... when I first saw it, I thought you'd sent me there."
"No!" It came out in a painful rush. There was a tightness around Jareth's beautiful eyes and proud mouth, and Sarah could see that he was in real physical pain from her accusation.
"But you're a demon," she said weakly, her argument faltering.
"I may be, but... Sarah, I didn't wish you dead. I wouldn't have sent you to the Aljunnu. I couldn't have."
"Your magick?" she asked softly.
"No... I have all the magick I need to twist a few paths. I physically and magickally could have, but emotionally and mentally I... Sarah, don't you realize how I feel for y--"
"I'm sorry I brought that up," Sarah said quickly, cutting him off. She couldn't stand hearing about his feelings for her--it made her feel guilty that she could not return the feelings.
Can't, Sarah? Or won't? Sarah was jarred by the soft thought floating through her head, and for a second, a wild trembling rose inside of her. She felt dizzy, and for the briefest second she couldn't breathe. Then, her mind answered back weakly, He kidnapped Toby. He was a monster to me. I can't love him. The dizziness passed, and Sarah took a deep breath.
"Sarah?" Jareth's voice was concerned, and he had raised one darkly-gloved hand toward her.
"You saved me, Jareth, and I want to thank you." Awkwardly, she wrapped her arms around him, hugging him. For a second, he didn't respond, then he raised his arms, returning the embrace. She pulled away, though, almost as soon as his arms were around her, and smiled up at him uncomfortably.
"You know," she said, obviously trying to lighten the mood, "I've never been carried before."
"Really?" Jareth replied, willing to be jovial. "You do it so well." Sarah laughed, and Jareth smiled, then sobered. "I apologize for doing that. Picking you up like that, I mean. I didn't mean to act so... so..."
"Strong?" Sarah suggested, and Jareth laughed again.
"No, disrespectful."
"Hey," Sarah laughed, reaching out to flick a nail at his tattered shirt, "feel free to disrespect me like that anytime. I really felt like a princess, being carried around like that."
Jareth laughed warmly then, throwing his arms wide in a grand motion. "Sarah, haven't you figured it out yet? Here, you are a princess!"