(Author's note: Here it is finally, and it's going to be longer than all the others. I have literally just finished it so it will be a while before the next one. Apologies of the most profound...erm...ness!)
Chapter IX
The caverns were, as to be expected: dark, murky, gloomy, shadowy, tenebrous - all other words to encompass its blackness. There were a few torches flaming in their wall brackets, recently replaced, to light up the pathway that ran alongside a wide, winding stream. Rock stalactites jutted from the ceiling, dripping moisture and causing any traveller to gain a sense of unease as they passed underneath.
Lynden halted when they came across an alcove in the rock wall, facing the watercourse.
"This should be big enough for you and your friend to hide in for a while," she said.
Sarah guided Ludo into the little cul-de-sac and sat down with him.
"Ludo hurt," the poor beast moaned. "Hurt bad."
Sarah hugged him, taking care not to disturb his wounds. She looked out at Lynden who was barely visible near the water's edge.
"Do you know if there are any medicines or anything in this place?" she called.
Lynden turned her head, her blank eyes narrowing in thought.
"Nothing that will heal him outright, but tarkenast might ease the pain. There should be some growing a few sections along. I can't pick it though, it'd be best I stay here and watch over, er-." She hesitated, flailing for the name. "Ludo." She gave an apologetic glance that suggested she had been distracted.
Sarah got to her feet, patting Ludo on the head for reassurance.
"Right. What's this tarka-whatsit look like?"
"It's got dark blue leaves which makes it harder to see but the flowers are golden. You'll be likely to find them nearer the wall than the stream though."
Sarah acknowledged and set off down the soil path in search of the plant. Most of the areas were adequately lit, preventing her from tripping over bits of rock or catching her foot in a pothole. She came finally to a cavern that was totally plunged in darkness - either there was no torch or it had gone out - so she had to double back and borrow one from the previous grotto.
The dim flame informed her she had reached a patch of vegetation though she could not yet see any tarkenast plants. A variety of mosses and grasses cushioned her shoes but very few blossoms could be seen, most surely associated with the lack of light. Treading carefully where the gaps in the path were, Sarah caught a glimpse of something floating close to the bank. She crouched at the edge and fished out the object.
It was a burnt-out torch, still oiled and warm to the touch. Someone had thrown it into the water on purpose. Someone wanted it dark.
Sarah's mind screamed ambush. She discarded the dead torch and swung the lit one around. It stopped to illuminate a grinning face, sharp teeth glittering with malice.
"My, my, Sarah. Don't we look a state?"
Sarah scowled at the Goblin King who lounged on a nearby rock, clad in his preferred black attire that fluttered like a restless raven. She strode past him to place her torch in the empty bracket, ensuring that she did not let her nerves disrupt her equilibrium.
"I see you've made acquaintance with my liquid girl," he simpered, delighting in the way she pretended to ignore him. "What makes you think you can trust her?"
"Because she'd sooner trust me than you," Sarah retorted, not really paying attention to the flowers she pored over.
Jareth stood and crossed the cavern in an ostentatious manner, crushing the flower she was about to pick with the heel of his immaculate boot.
"Relax, Sarah," he said, peering down his nose at her. "That wasn't tarkenast."
Sarah released a huffy sigh and stormed towards the stream bank, folding her arms across her chest in an infantile fashion.
"Will you just leave me alone?"
"Oh, and here was me thinking I'd been missed." Jareth put on an expression of mock hurt and set his gloved palms to his heart. "What a pity."
"Don't you *ever* get it?" Sarah yelled, spinning on her heel. "I *hate* you! I really, really -." She faltered. "Hate you."
The Goblin King drifted into the path of light, cutting off her psychological escape.
"I find that very hard to believe," he said. "I thought I'd let you know how well you were getting on."
Sarah, arms akimbo, gave him an uninterested stare.
"You're doing remarkably well."
Sarah sucked her teeth. "And that would make you happy because...?"
"Because, what you are doing remarkably well *at* is falling into every trap I lay out for you and not succeeding in rescuing a single friend intact," he sniggered.
"Just go away," she snarled. "You don't frighten me. You're only stalling because you know I've nearly defeated you, AGAIN. You're just a -."
"Stop!" Jareth commanded, holding up a hand. Sarah was surprised at how quickly she wilted under his arctic gaze. "I believe you are challenging me, girl."
Sarah answered, finding her voice, "You can't hurt me."
A set of three crystals imploded into existence as Jareth rotated his wrist. Allowing them to start a mesmerising dance, he took one into his other hand and let the other two continue. Sarah had been about to run but he sent the pair of spinning orbs to land at her feet. Instantly, two snakes bound around her legs, threatening to crush her and hissing dangerously.
The Goblin King moved pitilessly slow, rolling the remaining crystal back and forth as he neared.
"Now, Sarah. What would you like me to do with this one?"
Sarah yearned to tell him precisely where he could shove it but he was too close now, the cinnamon scent too strong, the terror too overpowering. She stared, open-mouthed, as he reached out and balanced the crystal on her head then stepped back to observe her in satisfaction. Any attempt to move her arms from her sides resulted in a warning couplet of a squeeze and a hiss at her ankles.
"I think it's time you and I had a more elaborate conversation," Jareth spoke with a saccharine tone. "Enough of these idiotic riddles." He paced regally before her. "As long as you keep my crystal where it is, I will ensure your...friends...are not discovered in that cosy little alcove."
Sarah trembled in her anger.
"What do you want?"
"You've got a habit of leaving me, Sarah. I endeavour to know what exactly it is that makes you so keen to resist my offers." (1)
She was aware of the ambiguity in his words, knowing that he referred to the promise of granting her dreams and her success in retrieving her brother, yet sensing an underlying air laced with desire. Sarah feared him - she cursed the spell - perspiring in the effort to steady the glass ball nestled in her hair. It was hopeless. He knew every emotion she owned, every desperation. The only part of her that was truly hidden was that which made her choices, her superego, and she prayed that he would never gain control. Otherwise, she would be nothing more than a puppet.
"The only things you've ever offered me would cause misery and suffering," she answered slowly.
Jareth had crossed lithely to the rock and had perched again upon its worn surface. He tipped his head to one side in a beautifully feline manner.
"Do I make you suffer, Sarah?" he asked in a voice that aroused doubt as to whether his concern was truly false.
"I was talking about my friends," Sarah said, glaring. "And my family."
"I have only ever done what has been asked of me. How selfish can one girl be I ask you?" Jareth noticed the look on her face that said 'you hypocrite' but raced to maintain the lead of this talk. "It is only fair that I balance out my generosity with some of my own wants. I gave you a world where you could own everything, and still you were not satisfied."
"You stole my memories!" Sarah growled, struggling to stay calm. "You spun me lies and even in that dream you treated my friends as slaves!"
"Because you desired it."
"I would never have had the people most true to me thrown out of my life!"
"Don't deny your humanity, Sarah. You wanted to be the centre of attention," Jareth said, patronisingly. "How could that be possible with all of those creatures milling around leading their pointless lives and getting in your way?"
"Bullshit!" Sarah snarled, the crystal rocking dangerously on her scalp.
Jareth watched it settle, unaltered by her outburst. "Careful, Sarah. Being uptight will get you nowhere. I never intended to hurt you."
Sarah laughed bitterly.
"Oh really? Then what about Ambrosius?"
The Goblin King pulled a wry face. Sarah sighed, clearly irritated.
"The dog. Sir Didymus' dog. The great big *thing* you sent to kill me!" she seethed.
"Ah yes, the puppy with the cowardice problem. I had wondered when he would turn up. He's been worrying my guards for weeks," Jareth chuckled. "Remind me to thank the water girl for clearing that up."
"I could've died," Sarah said through gritted teeth.
Jareth shrugged, sending a series of ripples across the surface of his thin cloak, the material galaxy of glitter a twinkling insolence.
"I fail to see your point, love."
Sarah's eyes were watering. It seemed as though the crystal were becoming heavier the longer she stood. A distant part of her pleaded for her to drop to her knees and sob at his feet, but she had already played that card and it had not come up King of Hearts. 'Why is he running me around my own mind like a rat in a maze?' her head whined. Why did he have to make things so difficult? There was something else about him, besides the twisted and unfazed attitudes, other than the lascivious spices that did not merely hang about him but melded and danced within his very essence. But what was it?
"Why do you keep bringing me back here?" she asked suspiciously.
Jareth retained his equable aura, the soft and chilling composure that served to cause as much discomfort as fingernails on a chalkboard.
"Sarah..." He tut-tutted. "You mustn't undervalue my title. Goblins are inquisitive and troublesome by nature. As sovereign of these creatures, it is my duty to take hold of every opportunity that passes."
"Your *duty*?" the girl sneered, wincing as a serpent tugged itself tighter.
"Very well, *pleasure* then," Jareth corrected. "Do you really expect me to sit in my dreary castle all day, every day and ignore the chance to cause a girl some distress? Especially you, Miss Williams, after what you did to my kingdom." He congratulated himself; sure he had thrown her off the trail of thought that he could possibly care about her.
Sarah could bear it no longer.
"You're such a heartless bastard!" she yelled.
The glass sphere rolled forward and dropped before her eyes. She gasped and made a grab for it, immediately feeling the crushing pain from the snakes binding her legs. Her wrist was caught abruptly by a firm grip. The crystal stopped, cushioned by a covered palm.
Jareth raised it before her eyes, having evanesced from the rock to materialise beside her. He kept hold of her arm, pinching the flesh enough to make her wince.
"Am I so?" asked the Goblin King. "He who never ceases to respond to your every whim?" He drew himself close, the tips of his boots just missing the serpents' tails. "Am I really *heartless*, Sarah?" The crystal lifted to brush her lips, he slid his hand from her wrist to her upper arm and smiled at the sharp intake of breath she made. "Do you not think I have lived up to my promise? Have I not been generous?"
Jareth drew back the crystal from Sarah's face and leant forward, his nose in line with hers. She was holding her breath, arching her neck back to avoid him, shivering and paralysed from the reptile restraints. She kept her lips sealed, concealing the shameful water that lust induced.
"Tell me again that this is not what you want," he said, now averting his gaze to the image that had appeared in the centre of the crystal.
It was clearly Sarah, back in the masquerade in her sparkling, iridescent gown and her hair cascading amidst an embellishment of jewels and braids. Her expression was not so forlorn. Instead, she bore a bittersweet smile as she waltzed gracefully with the same breathtaking partner, watched by a crowd of masked dancers.
Sarah saw the vision of herself trip, only to be caught in the arms of the man she loved and hated. She turned her head away to subdue the nausea building inside. Jareth continued to watch the scene with a sly grin, amused by the sight of himself showing so much compassion and mouthing the words to his old song. His pointed teeth revealed themselves, apparently to do with something that had happened in the globe.
"Oh dear Sarah, you've torn your dress." (2)
Sarah shrugged out of his grip, her eyes burning.
"You're nothing without your magic and your goblins. I'm not a part of your Labyrinth. You can't bend me to your rules." She now had his attention. "I'm not just another *thing* gift-wrapped with your name on it." The smile faded from his face. "Now you will leave me to finish off your stupid puzzle, take back my friends, and you..." She paused as she saw him clench his jaw, the crystal in his palm glowing red. "You can go back to your castle with your toys and rot for all I care." The glass ball gleamed white hot. "You won't hurt me."
Jareth's free hand shot forward and fastened about her throat. The other brought the pulsing orb within millimetres of her face. The sphere of light contorted and twisted into a wriggling shape, darkening as he curled up his palm to hold part of it between finger and thumb.
Sarah blanched, not daring to breathe, as the black scorpion struggled furiously to free its venomous tail. She gave out a whimper when the vicious pincers snapped close to her eye.
"Never assume to know me, Sarah. You're not a little girl anymore. Games change." Jareth kept his callous stare, his left iris shimmering as a sun-caught ring of ice, the usual hazel of the right - the pallor of coal. "Now, open your mouth."
The young woman's eyes were wide with terror. She quivered, aware that he could feel it when she swallowed. Her gaze flitted from the creature to the ruthless mask of the Goblin King, searching for reason.
"Jareth...what are you doing?" she gasped, her voice a choked whisper.
"I think I made myself quite clear." His tone grated. "Open your mouth."
He grasped the back of her neck and hooked his fingers into the knots of her hair. Wrenching her head sharply, he dangled the scorpion over her lips, parted in soundless agony. Then he let go of the stinger. In the same instant, the two snakes transfigured into a pair of snickering goblins. They rushed forward and pushed her over the edge of the bank.
Sarah spluttered stream-water and latched her hands onto dry land. Peering through her soaking mop of hair, she came eye to boot with her enemy. She growled and swiped at his ankle in an attempt to drag him down but to her surprise her hand passed straight through him.
"I'll be seeing you," Jareth promised. "You have thirteen minutes before I send the next patrol into the caverns." He stepped back and melted into the air.
Sarah hauled herself out of the stream and trudged into the centre of the grotto. The goblins had fled and there was no sign that anyone besides her had been here. Even the flower that Jareth had squashed was now in pristine condition. Jeez, what was it with that number that he liked so much? She supposed she should have been grateful he had said 'minutes' rather than 'seconds'.
Glancing around the area at the vegetation, she recalled her quest. Where was that damn tarka-thingy? She cursed. She had forgotten what it was meant to look like.
The mocking British voice resonated on the walls. //It's over there. //
A patch of greenery illuminated itself for a few moments not far from the rock where Jareth had sat. Enchanted light revealed large clumps of blue leaves and tiny gold flowers, which Sarah hastily began to gather. When she had picked a sufficient load, the torch in its bracket took over as her primary means of vision.
Something sparkled at her from the rock.
Entirely made out of glass, a delicately crafted scorpion lay abandoned on the stone. The dim light refracted colours across the curved segments of a crystal body, leading to a tapered bulb that was empty of poison.
Without further thought, Sarah pocketed it and returned through the caverns, leaving a trail of water droplets to soak into the earth.
(Footnotes: (1) "You've got a habit of leaving me" is a quote from the D.B song with the same name. (2) Bowie fans - need I explain?)
Chapter IX
The caverns were, as to be expected: dark, murky, gloomy, shadowy, tenebrous - all other words to encompass its blackness. There were a few torches flaming in their wall brackets, recently replaced, to light up the pathway that ran alongside a wide, winding stream. Rock stalactites jutted from the ceiling, dripping moisture and causing any traveller to gain a sense of unease as they passed underneath.
Lynden halted when they came across an alcove in the rock wall, facing the watercourse.
"This should be big enough for you and your friend to hide in for a while," she said.
Sarah guided Ludo into the little cul-de-sac and sat down with him.
"Ludo hurt," the poor beast moaned. "Hurt bad."
Sarah hugged him, taking care not to disturb his wounds. She looked out at Lynden who was barely visible near the water's edge.
"Do you know if there are any medicines or anything in this place?" she called.
Lynden turned her head, her blank eyes narrowing in thought.
"Nothing that will heal him outright, but tarkenast might ease the pain. There should be some growing a few sections along. I can't pick it though, it'd be best I stay here and watch over, er-." She hesitated, flailing for the name. "Ludo." She gave an apologetic glance that suggested she had been distracted.
Sarah got to her feet, patting Ludo on the head for reassurance.
"Right. What's this tarka-whatsit look like?"
"It's got dark blue leaves which makes it harder to see but the flowers are golden. You'll be likely to find them nearer the wall than the stream though."
Sarah acknowledged and set off down the soil path in search of the plant. Most of the areas were adequately lit, preventing her from tripping over bits of rock or catching her foot in a pothole. She came finally to a cavern that was totally plunged in darkness - either there was no torch or it had gone out - so she had to double back and borrow one from the previous grotto.
The dim flame informed her she had reached a patch of vegetation though she could not yet see any tarkenast plants. A variety of mosses and grasses cushioned her shoes but very few blossoms could be seen, most surely associated with the lack of light. Treading carefully where the gaps in the path were, Sarah caught a glimpse of something floating close to the bank. She crouched at the edge and fished out the object.
It was a burnt-out torch, still oiled and warm to the touch. Someone had thrown it into the water on purpose. Someone wanted it dark.
Sarah's mind screamed ambush. She discarded the dead torch and swung the lit one around. It stopped to illuminate a grinning face, sharp teeth glittering with malice.
"My, my, Sarah. Don't we look a state?"
Sarah scowled at the Goblin King who lounged on a nearby rock, clad in his preferred black attire that fluttered like a restless raven. She strode past him to place her torch in the empty bracket, ensuring that she did not let her nerves disrupt her equilibrium.
"I see you've made acquaintance with my liquid girl," he simpered, delighting in the way she pretended to ignore him. "What makes you think you can trust her?"
"Because she'd sooner trust me than you," Sarah retorted, not really paying attention to the flowers she pored over.
Jareth stood and crossed the cavern in an ostentatious manner, crushing the flower she was about to pick with the heel of his immaculate boot.
"Relax, Sarah," he said, peering down his nose at her. "That wasn't tarkenast."
Sarah released a huffy sigh and stormed towards the stream bank, folding her arms across her chest in an infantile fashion.
"Will you just leave me alone?"
"Oh, and here was me thinking I'd been missed." Jareth put on an expression of mock hurt and set his gloved palms to his heart. "What a pity."
"Don't you *ever* get it?" Sarah yelled, spinning on her heel. "I *hate* you! I really, really -." She faltered. "Hate you."
The Goblin King drifted into the path of light, cutting off her psychological escape.
"I find that very hard to believe," he said. "I thought I'd let you know how well you were getting on."
Sarah, arms akimbo, gave him an uninterested stare.
"You're doing remarkably well."
Sarah sucked her teeth. "And that would make you happy because...?"
"Because, what you are doing remarkably well *at* is falling into every trap I lay out for you and not succeeding in rescuing a single friend intact," he sniggered.
"Just go away," she snarled. "You don't frighten me. You're only stalling because you know I've nearly defeated you, AGAIN. You're just a -."
"Stop!" Jareth commanded, holding up a hand. Sarah was surprised at how quickly she wilted under his arctic gaze. "I believe you are challenging me, girl."
Sarah answered, finding her voice, "You can't hurt me."
A set of three crystals imploded into existence as Jareth rotated his wrist. Allowing them to start a mesmerising dance, he took one into his other hand and let the other two continue. Sarah had been about to run but he sent the pair of spinning orbs to land at her feet. Instantly, two snakes bound around her legs, threatening to crush her and hissing dangerously.
The Goblin King moved pitilessly slow, rolling the remaining crystal back and forth as he neared.
"Now, Sarah. What would you like me to do with this one?"
Sarah yearned to tell him precisely where he could shove it but he was too close now, the cinnamon scent too strong, the terror too overpowering. She stared, open-mouthed, as he reached out and balanced the crystal on her head then stepped back to observe her in satisfaction. Any attempt to move her arms from her sides resulted in a warning couplet of a squeeze and a hiss at her ankles.
"I think it's time you and I had a more elaborate conversation," Jareth spoke with a saccharine tone. "Enough of these idiotic riddles." He paced regally before her. "As long as you keep my crystal where it is, I will ensure your...friends...are not discovered in that cosy little alcove."
Sarah trembled in her anger.
"What do you want?"
"You've got a habit of leaving me, Sarah. I endeavour to know what exactly it is that makes you so keen to resist my offers." (1)
She was aware of the ambiguity in his words, knowing that he referred to the promise of granting her dreams and her success in retrieving her brother, yet sensing an underlying air laced with desire. Sarah feared him - she cursed the spell - perspiring in the effort to steady the glass ball nestled in her hair. It was hopeless. He knew every emotion she owned, every desperation. The only part of her that was truly hidden was that which made her choices, her superego, and she prayed that he would never gain control. Otherwise, she would be nothing more than a puppet.
"The only things you've ever offered me would cause misery and suffering," she answered slowly.
Jareth had crossed lithely to the rock and had perched again upon its worn surface. He tipped his head to one side in a beautifully feline manner.
"Do I make you suffer, Sarah?" he asked in a voice that aroused doubt as to whether his concern was truly false.
"I was talking about my friends," Sarah said, glaring. "And my family."
"I have only ever done what has been asked of me. How selfish can one girl be I ask you?" Jareth noticed the look on her face that said 'you hypocrite' but raced to maintain the lead of this talk. "It is only fair that I balance out my generosity with some of my own wants. I gave you a world where you could own everything, and still you were not satisfied."
"You stole my memories!" Sarah growled, struggling to stay calm. "You spun me lies and even in that dream you treated my friends as slaves!"
"Because you desired it."
"I would never have had the people most true to me thrown out of my life!"
"Don't deny your humanity, Sarah. You wanted to be the centre of attention," Jareth said, patronisingly. "How could that be possible with all of those creatures milling around leading their pointless lives and getting in your way?"
"Bullshit!" Sarah snarled, the crystal rocking dangerously on her scalp.
Jareth watched it settle, unaltered by her outburst. "Careful, Sarah. Being uptight will get you nowhere. I never intended to hurt you."
Sarah laughed bitterly.
"Oh really? Then what about Ambrosius?"
The Goblin King pulled a wry face. Sarah sighed, clearly irritated.
"The dog. Sir Didymus' dog. The great big *thing* you sent to kill me!" she seethed.
"Ah yes, the puppy with the cowardice problem. I had wondered when he would turn up. He's been worrying my guards for weeks," Jareth chuckled. "Remind me to thank the water girl for clearing that up."
"I could've died," Sarah said through gritted teeth.
Jareth shrugged, sending a series of ripples across the surface of his thin cloak, the material galaxy of glitter a twinkling insolence.
"I fail to see your point, love."
Sarah's eyes were watering. It seemed as though the crystal were becoming heavier the longer she stood. A distant part of her pleaded for her to drop to her knees and sob at his feet, but she had already played that card and it had not come up King of Hearts. 'Why is he running me around my own mind like a rat in a maze?' her head whined. Why did he have to make things so difficult? There was something else about him, besides the twisted and unfazed attitudes, other than the lascivious spices that did not merely hang about him but melded and danced within his very essence. But what was it?
"Why do you keep bringing me back here?" she asked suspiciously.
Jareth retained his equable aura, the soft and chilling composure that served to cause as much discomfort as fingernails on a chalkboard.
"Sarah..." He tut-tutted. "You mustn't undervalue my title. Goblins are inquisitive and troublesome by nature. As sovereign of these creatures, it is my duty to take hold of every opportunity that passes."
"Your *duty*?" the girl sneered, wincing as a serpent tugged itself tighter.
"Very well, *pleasure* then," Jareth corrected. "Do you really expect me to sit in my dreary castle all day, every day and ignore the chance to cause a girl some distress? Especially you, Miss Williams, after what you did to my kingdom." He congratulated himself; sure he had thrown her off the trail of thought that he could possibly care about her.
Sarah could bear it no longer.
"You're such a heartless bastard!" she yelled.
The glass sphere rolled forward and dropped before her eyes. She gasped and made a grab for it, immediately feeling the crushing pain from the snakes binding her legs. Her wrist was caught abruptly by a firm grip. The crystal stopped, cushioned by a covered palm.
Jareth raised it before her eyes, having evanesced from the rock to materialise beside her. He kept hold of her arm, pinching the flesh enough to make her wince.
"Am I so?" asked the Goblin King. "He who never ceases to respond to your every whim?" He drew himself close, the tips of his boots just missing the serpents' tails. "Am I really *heartless*, Sarah?" The crystal lifted to brush her lips, he slid his hand from her wrist to her upper arm and smiled at the sharp intake of breath she made. "Do you not think I have lived up to my promise? Have I not been generous?"
Jareth drew back the crystal from Sarah's face and leant forward, his nose in line with hers. She was holding her breath, arching her neck back to avoid him, shivering and paralysed from the reptile restraints. She kept her lips sealed, concealing the shameful water that lust induced.
"Tell me again that this is not what you want," he said, now averting his gaze to the image that had appeared in the centre of the crystal.
It was clearly Sarah, back in the masquerade in her sparkling, iridescent gown and her hair cascading amidst an embellishment of jewels and braids. Her expression was not so forlorn. Instead, she bore a bittersweet smile as she waltzed gracefully with the same breathtaking partner, watched by a crowd of masked dancers.
Sarah saw the vision of herself trip, only to be caught in the arms of the man she loved and hated. She turned her head away to subdue the nausea building inside. Jareth continued to watch the scene with a sly grin, amused by the sight of himself showing so much compassion and mouthing the words to his old song. His pointed teeth revealed themselves, apparently to do with something that had happened in the globe.
"Oh dear Sarah, you've torn your dress." (2)
Sarah shrugged out of his grip, her eyes burning.
"You're nothing without your magic and your goblins. I'm not a part of your Labyrinth. You can't bend me to your rules." She now had his attention. "I'm not just another *thing* gift-wrapped with your name on it." The smile faded from his face. "Now you will leave me to finish off your stupid puzzle, take back my friends, and you..." She paused as she saw him clench his jaw, the crystal in his palm glowing red. "You can go back to your castle with your toys and rot for all I care." The glass ball gleamed white hot. "You won't hurt me."
Jareth's free hand shot forward and fastened about her throat. The other brought the pulsing orb within millimetres of her face. The sphere of light contorted and twisted into a wriggling shape, darkening as he curled up his palm to hold part of it between finger and thumb.
Sarah blanched, not daring to breathe, as the black scorpion struggled furiously to free its venomous tail. She gave out a whimper when the vicious pincers snapped close to her eye.
"Never assume to know me, Sarah. You're not a little girl anymore. Games change." Jareth kept his callous stare, his left iris shimmering as a sun-caught ring of ice, the usual hazel of the right - the pallor of coal. "Now, open your mouth."
The young woman's eyes were wide with terror. She quivered, aware that he could feel it when she swallowed. Her gaze flitted from the creature to the ruthless mask of the Goblin King, searching for reason.
"Jareth...what are you doing?" she gasped, her voice a choked whisper.
"I think I made myself quite clear." His tone grated. "Open your mouth."
He grasped the back of her neck and hooked his fingers into the knots of her hair. Wrenching her head sharply, he dangled the scorpion over her lips, parted in soundless agony. Then he let go of the stinger. In the same instant, the two snakes transfigured into a pair of snickering goblins. They rushed forward and pushed her over the edge of the bank.
Sarah spluttered stream-water and latched her hands onto dry land. Peering through her soaking mop of hair, she came eye to boot with her enemy. She growled and swiped at his ankle in an attempt to drag him down but to her surprise her hand passed straight through him.
"I'll be seeing you," Jareth promised. "You have thirteen minutes before I send the next patrol into the caverns." He stepped back and melted into the air.
Sarah hauled herself out of the stream and trudged into the centre of the grotto. The goblins had fled and there was no sign that anyone besides her had been here. Even the flower that Jareth had squashed was now in pristine condition. Jeez, what was it with that number that he liked so much? She supposed she should have been grateful he had said 'minutes' rather than 'seconds'.
Glancing around the area at the vegetation, she recalled her quest. Where was that damn tarka-thingy? She cursed. She had forgotten what it was meant to look like.
The mocking British voice resonated on the walls. //It's over there. //
A patch of greenery illuminated itself for a few moments not far from the rock where Jareth had sat. Enchanted light revealed large clumps of blue leaves and tiny gold flowers, which Sarah hastily began to gather. When she had picked a sufficient load, the torch in its bracket took over as her primary means of vision.
Something sparkled at her from the rock.
Entirely made out of glass, a delicately crafted scorpion lay abandoned on the stone. The dim light refracted colours across the curved segments of a crystal body, leading to a tapered bulb that was empty of poison.
Without further thought, Sarah pocketed it and returned through the caverns, leaving a trail of water droplets to soak into the earth.
(Footnotes: (1) "You've got a habit of leaving me" is a quote from the D.B song with the same name. (2) Bowie fans - need I explain?)