Alia awoke again the next morning to the sound of birds singing and an empty cave. At first disoriented, her memory came flooding back when she saw the banked fire with her now dried clothing hanging nearby. She fed the fire and dressed, then made herself a breakfast of some fresh fruit that had been hiding in some corner of the satchel along with what seemed to be a relative of oatmeal.
After cleaning up and repacking everything, she doused the fire. There was still no sign of Arten'barad when she went outside, but the view was spectacular. Orienting herself by the sun, she found the cave faced to the northeast and that by climbing on a nearby outcropping of rock, she could see to the north. The cave opened above the tree line and she could see beyond the mountains to the distant foothills. Beyond the foothills, she could see a faint blue haze.
She wondered how much longer it would take her to reach the desert. How rugged were the foothills? They looked gently rolling at this distance. And how long would it take her to get through the mountains if Arten'barad did not return?
She was pondering how long to wait for the dragon, when a sixth sense urged her to turn around. She had just enough time to fall backward against an upright rock and think she was breakfast, before Arten'barad rushed overhead. The dragon then circled around and landed in the clearing in front of the cave.
Arten'barad looked at her, concerned, as she remained leaning against the rock. "Did you hurt yourself?"
Alia, still stunned, managed to find her voice, "No, I think I'm fine. I didn't hurt myself, but you frightened me. That was like being buzzed by a commercial airliner, only quieter. May I ask, was there a reason for it or was it just excess exuberance?"
"Completely exuberance, I think. It is a wonderful morning for flying. Are you ready?"
"I'm packed and the fire is out. Um...How are we going to do this?"
"I will hold you. Come here."
Alia secured her knapsack and satchel comfortably on her shoulders before she approached the dragon. Arten'barad sat back on her haunches and tail. Alia studied the dragon as she approached the huge creature. Alia usually imagined dragon wings as immense batlike sails of fine membrane and Arten'barad's matched that picture perfectly. Fine scales, only metallic enough to give her a faint sheen, closer to pearlescent than a chrome glare, covered the dragon. The talons on the dragon's handlike forefeet, solid black and menacingly sharp, measured nearly as long as Alia's forearm.
"Ahem," Alia cleared her throat nervously. "So is this close enough?"
Arten'barad grasped Alia around the waist, or more accurately, from the chest down. Alia expected hard sharp scales, but found them soft and pliable like the scales of a snake she had once held.
"Do not worry I will not drop you," Arten'barad reassured her. "Am I holding you too tightly? Can you still breathe easily?"
"I'm fine so fa-a-r-r-r-r!" Alia's reply turned to a startled yell as Arten'barad lifted her off the ground. "I wish you had warned me before you did that! You may not drop me but you could give me a heart atta-a-a-a-c-k!" Alia cried out again as the dragon leapt into the air.
Alia clutched Arten'barad's talon for dear life and kept her eyes shut tight. She had left her stomach behind and her heart beat rapidlyagainst her ribcage.
"Calm yourself. I will not drop you."
"I know you won't. I can tell myself that over and over, but my instincts still tell me I don't belong up here. It takes a while for my mind to win out over my body." By degrees Alia relaxed her grip and opened her eyes once in a while. Eventually, she began to enjoy the view.
Arten'barad flew close among the mountains. Soon they reached the foothills of the mountain range. Arten'barad descended to land some way into them, but the desert still shimmered faint and blue in the distance.
Arten'barad carefully set Alia down in a valley. "This is as far as it is safe for me to take you. You must travel the rest of the distance on your own."
"Even this much is a great help. Thank you. How will you know if I need you later?"
"I heard your dream last night. I should be able to hear if you call for me."
"All right. Thank you again for all your help," Alia paused awkwardly. "Ah, I guess I should be going. With any luck you will hear from me soon."
"I hope so."
Alia turned to go, heading the direction she remembered from the air.
"One last piece of advice," called out the dragon. Alia stopped and turned to listen. "Jareth can be very persuasive when he wants. Remember that if he catches you and think long and well before believing what he says."
"I'll try to remember that. Thank you."
Arten'barad launched herself into the air and flew off. Alia watched her for a short while then continued on to the north. At this point the foothills were lightly forested, but if she remembered what she had seen from the air correctly, the trees would not last long, giving way to what had looked like shrubs and grasses.
The flight to the foothills not having taken all of the morning, Alia walked for some time before taking a short stop to eat some lunch and then continue on to the north. By afternoon the few trees remaining grew distorted and blighted, like the ones she had seen in the Bog in the movie. The climate also grew warmer and drier as the foothills lowered in altitude.
Alia's mind wandered as she walked, finally fixing on memories of Cara. She had gone hiking once with Cara. Usually Alia avoided camping and its close relations, but Cara had pestered her so long and relentlessly that Alia had finally given in just for the sake of some peace and quiet. Alia remembered a conversation they had had on that hike.
"So are you having fun?" Cara had asked.
"It's not as bad as I thought it would be," Alia grudgingly admitted.
"See? I told you. Things are never as bad as you think they'll be."
"I don't know," Alia grumbled as she flailed at a passing insect. "I may be eaten alive yet."
"Sometimes I don't understand you. You're always studying those ancient things. I'd think you'd be more tolerant of roughing it and bugs. All those historical figures had to live with them."
"Just because I study them, doesn't mean I want to live like them. If anything it makes me appreciate air conditioning and window screens and refrigerators and bug spray even more. And speaking of roughing it, weren't you the one who wanted one of those houses where the computer controls everything? The temperature, the microwave, the lights, the television. So that you wouldn't need to do anything?"
"That's different. This is for fun."
"Says you."
Alia smiled at the memory. "Wouldn't Cara be surprised at me now? Trekking across country voluntarily. And without any bug spray."
She still had not reached the desert by sunset. As a nearly full moon rose, she decided to continue walking for a while and ate as she walked. Then she remembered Tieran.
"Tieran, you there? I forgot about you."
"I had noticed," he answered dryly.
"How's my progress?"
"Much better than yesterday. The foothills should start leveling out soon."
"They're already getting lower. Do you think I'll reach the desert tonight if I keep walking?"
"If you continue walking you might reach it at about dawn."
"Then I could sleep during the day like you suggested. I think I'll try to do that. You didn't even hear me yell when Arten'barad took off?"
"When was that? This morning? No, I did not hear or feel anything."
"She scared the life out of me. First, she dived at me. Have you ever been buzzed by a dragon that size? Then she picked me up off the ground and took off without warning me first. It's been quite a day."
"Have you had any problems?"
"No, still have plenty of food and water. The flashlight doesn't work of course, but I haven't lost anything. I was scared silly this morning, but no injuries."
"Keep me informed." He sounded rushed. "I must go now. Irielen wants me for some decision or other."
"OK. 10-4. Over and out."
"Pardon me?"
"Never mind. It's slang from my world. I'll let you know if anything happens."
Alia walked until the moon approached the horizon and she was dragging her feet. Despite the easy ride from the dragon in the morning, it had been a long day. From the next rise she climbed, Alia spied the desert in the distance, pale and gray in the colorless moonlight. She decided to stop the next time she found a stream, allowing her to easily fill up on water before she started late that afternoon.
As if she had conjured it up by thinking about it, she stumbled across a stream, literally, as she descended that hill. She walked into it and then looked for a way to cross it dry shod before she remembered that she meant to stop here anyway. So she found a flat grassy spot, dropped her gear, pulled out the blanket to wrap herself in, and fell asleep immediately.
She forgot to remove the pendant, but fortunately, she slept deeply with no dreams.
.….
Jareth paced the floor of his room. His day had started badly. He had been lounging in his throne room as usual, observing the remnants of his goblin hordes with his usual boredom and a few not so usual nigglings of concern over the state of things – if this kept up he would have to call in his netgoblins from the field just to staff the castle – when a panic attack and then acrophobia suddenly seized him. He had managed to just clutch at the arm and back of his throne, hiding the attack from the none-too-observant goblins, while it gradually subsided, leaving him light-headed and a little dizzy. The rest of the day had been uneventful, beyond the disappearing goblins, until now.
Now, sleep eluded him. He had lain in bed for hours counting sheep, goblins, crystals, fireys, and fairies. He had tried making some warm milk for himself (the cook was among the missing goblins). He had tried sitting in a warm bath until he looked like a prune. He had tried reading the driest book he could find and only got a paper cut for his troubles. He even tried watching the golf cable channel from Earth, but got an infomercial instead, barely stopping himself from buying a hair care system and a food dehydrator. (He was still considering the vacuum storage system – it might keep the chickens out of his off-season wardrobe.) So now, as a last resort and for lack of a better occupation, he paced.
Finally, he decided to try to find his physician's chambers. He had no idea where to find them. In the usual order of things, he called, the physician came. Now, not only was there no one to fetch the physician, there was no physician to fetch. According to the dubious source of his remaining goblins, the physician had been one of the first to disappear. Some of the dumbest ones claimed he had never existed to begin with.
After much wandering, he discovered more guest quarters than he cared to count (would he ever really want that many people visiting him at once?), broom closets (the goblins obviously did not know they existed), and storerooms (what was he storing in all these rooms?). He was about to give up, when he located the physician's quarters.
He had planned to find some sort of sedative already prepared or, failing that, look it up and prepare one himself. Of course, the physician had not labeled any of the jars and vials on the many shelves with anything that sounded like a sleeping draught, so he turned to the books and scrolls. Luck finally graced him and he found a formula in the first book he picked up. He mixed the ingredients together and transported himself back to his room. Once there, he drank the concoction and waited for it to work as the moon set and dawn approached.
Disclaimers, credits, trivia:
Labyrinth, etc. belong to the Jim Henson Company.