CHAPTER 4
Sarah awoke, screaming, "TOBY!" She found herself sitting up on a hill, the grass brown from years of drought. Her voice still echoed in the distance as she got to her feet. She rubbed her eyes, trying to take everything in. Was this a dream? Sarah pinched herself to make sure it wasn't, as a strange sense of deja vu crept over her.
She looked at the valley ahead. There were plains as far as she could see, in any given direction. When she turned around, her heart froze, her feet taking root in the ground beneath her. For there, in front of her, was the object of nightmares past: The Labyrinth.
From where she stood she could make out the main gate, no more than a hundred yards away. Then a thought popped into her head: "Hoggle!" she said, a smile forming on her face. She took flight down the hill, making for the gate with breakneck speed.
Sarah reached the gate in seconds flat. She looked wildly around, "Hoggle!" but there came no reply. She ran around the pond, shouting his name every few feet, but there was no sign of her old friend. Slowly, she started walking back towards the gate.
Movement from her side drew her attention towards one of the wall outcroppings. "Hoggle?!" she cried in desperation.
"No, Sarah, I'm afraid you're too late for that." Toby sat perched on a granite slab, mostly covered by the brush. His clothing had slightly changed by now to a black leather vest instead of the his blue frock coat. He ran a black gloved hand through his short, blonde hair.
He looked her in the eyes, and for the second time in her life she looked back at him with a feeling of uneasiness. "Do you know what happens to things when you leave them unloved, Sarah?"
Sarah, not really knowing what to say, simply shook her head.
Toby smirked. "They die." As he said this, he drew back the brush, uncovering the stone he was sitting on. There were markings on the slab, which read: HERE LIES HOGGLE.
Sarah fell to her knees, crying in a ball. Toby laughed, watching her for several moments before continuing.
"I remember tears, Sarah. It's hard to conceive, but I do remember tears. When you lay still at night, strapped to your gurney, your mind tends to wander. Back to the family who says they loves you, and then does otherwise."
Sarah interrupted him, "Toby, I do…"
"THAT is a LIE!" Toby waved his hand upwards, as if he was smacking something, and the doors to The Labyrinth lurched open. He hopped off his perch and put his left hand under her chin, slowly drawing up to her feet.
He was tall. She'd never realized how tall he'd gotten. Apparently, she hadn't realized a lot of things about him.
"You know the drill, Sarah. Thirteen hours." With that said, a clock appeared by his side, sporting thirteen numbers.
"Thirteen hours until what, Toby?"
Toby smiled at her. "Thirteen hours until the poison in your drink takes full effect. And let's see…" he looked down at a pretend watch. "Oh my," he looked up at her, remorseful, "you seem to have overslept." He waved his hand at the clock and it counted down three hours. "Ten hours," he said, as he backed away slowly. When there was about ten feet between them, he faded from plain sight, saying, "better run."
Sarah awoke, screaming, "TOBY!" She found herself sitting up on a hill, the grass brown from years of drought. Her voice still echoed in the distance as she got to her feet. She rubbed her eyes, trying to take everything in. Was this a dream? Sarah pinched herself to make sure it wasn't, as a strange sense of deja vu crept over her.
She looked at the valley ahead. There were plains as far as she could see, in any given direction. When she turned around, her heart froze, her feet taking root in the ground beneath her. For there, in front of her, was the object of nightmares past: The Labyrinth.
From where she stood she could make out the main gate, no more than a hundred yards away. Then a thought popped into her head: "Hoggle!" she said, a smile forming on her face. She took flight down the hill, making for the gate with breakneck speed.
Sarah reached the gate in seconds flat. She looked wildly around, "Hoggle!" but there came no reply. She ran around the pond, shouting his name every few feet, but there was no sign of her old friend. Slowly, she started walking back towards the gate.
Movement from her side drew her attention towards one of the wall outcroppings. "Hoggle?!" she cried in desperation.
"No, Sarah, I'm afraid you're too late for that." Toby sat perched on a granite slab, mostly covered by the brush. His clothing had slightly changed by now to a black leather vest instead of the his blue frock coat. He ran a black gloved hand through his short, blonde hair.
He looked her in the eyes, and for the second time in her life she looked back at him with a feeling of uneasiness. "Do you know what happens to things when you leave them unloved, Sarah?"
Sarah, not really knowing what to say, simply shook her head.
Toby smirked. "They die." As he said this, he drew back the brush, uncovering the stone he was sitting on. There were markings on the slab, which read: HERE LIES HOGGLE.
Sarah fell to her knees, crying in a ball. Toby laughed, watching her for several moments before continuing.
"I remember tears, Sarah. It's hard to conceive, but I do remember tears. When you lay still at night, strapped to your gurney, your mind tends to wander. Back to the family who says they loves you, and then does otherwise."
Sarah interrupted him, "Toby, I do…"
"THAT is a LIE!" Toby waved his hand upwards, as if he was smacking something, and the doors to The Labyrinth lurched open. He hopped off his perch and put his left hand under her chin, slowly drawing up to her feet.
He was tall. She'd never realized how tall he'd gotten. Apparently, she hadn't realized a lot of things about him.
"You know the drill, Sarah. Thirteen hours." With that said, a clock appeared by his side, sporting thirteen numbers.
"Thirteen hours until what, Toby?"
Toby smiled at her. "Thirteen hours until the poison in your drink takes full effect. And let's see…" he looked down at a pretend watch. "Oh my," he looked up at her, remorseful, "you seem to have overslept." He waved his hand at the clock and it counted down three hours. "Ten hours," he said, as he backed away slowly. When there was about ten feet between them, he faded from plain sight, saying, "better run."