Chapter Two

Disclaimer: Jim Henson owns the Labyrinth and all concerned, I am just using them!

A tall figure sat on the stone ledge by the opened window. Across the room, he gazed at the sleeping girl in the large canopied bed. Sighing deeply he pushed away from the ledge, walking towards the bed when Sarah groaned, waking. He was surprised that his sleep spell was wearing off after only a few hours, then again she always did things against him.

Standing by the edge of the bed, he looked down at her pale features, holding his breath as her eyes fluttered open then slammed shut again with a groan. He rubbed the knuckles of his gloved hands lightly on her shallow checks. Sighing he produced one of his crystal balls letting it hover above Sarah's face, standing he tapped a long finger on the orb causing to burst soundlessly, showering her in a stronger sleep.

With that completed he turned, his dark cloak bellowing around his frame, turning himself into a snow-white owl. He flew gracefully over the Goblin City, disappearing into the darkness of the Labyrinth.

It was two days later when Sarah, sitting crossed legged on the bed, was finally able to stay awake long enough to know that this was the last place she wanted to be. She was alone in a huge gothic room that needed a good months scrubbing. Dark purple with gold trimming covered her bed, and the large fluffy pillows were not bad. The furnisher in the room was sparse with only two large wooden chairs flanking a small worn table with a case of flowers on it. A monstrous fireplace, with a warm fire, sat on the side of the table to the left of the room. Sarah's bed, in the center, which could sleep an army, and to her right was a small bookcase by a locked door.

Not one person, goblin or king had appeared, yet food and fresh clothes would magically appear once she fall asleep at odd times during the day. It was driving her crazy that no one had come around so she could get answers to her questions. Why was she back in the Labyrinth? What had happened after the other car had come towards her? Was she dead and this Hell? If it was, she must have pissed someone off to get her here. No, it was Hell; it had to be, why else would she be in the Labyrinth.

The quietness of the room was deafening. Sarah, wishing she could talk to someone, exhaled noisily looking towards around the room her eyes fell upon her new idea, a very bad idea she chided herself. Jumping off the bed she slowly walked to the table by the hearth, picking up the vase full of beautiful, lovely, and colorful oh so fragrant flowers. Weighing it with a grin, she turned and threw it as hard as she could against the oak door. The crash was so loud and messy that Sarah, jumping back on the bed, and clapping her hands with the glee of a two year old child.

"Yes!" she laughed, starting to look around the room for more" throw-able" objects and seeing her newest victims not too far away.

"OHHHHH! A bookshelf with lots and lots of booksss!" she hissed evilly. It had been a long time since Sarah had been able to vent her frustrations and she almost killed herself getting to the shelves. Volumes of books went flying towards the wet door, thick, skinny, small or large ones, it did not matter they all went, beating the door until it became a rhythm for Sarah.

Starting a song, she loudly began singing, "I hate this place" bang bang bang "I really do" bang bang bang "I wanna go home" bang "to my own room" bang bang "What can I do?" bang bang "AH!!" BANG!

Stopping Sarah gasped for breath then threw the last book with a satisfied grunt. Laughing, she was surprised at the pile blocking the door. Good, she thought, they will make so much noise coming in act of sneaking in, I will be able catch them at it. A small book suddenly moved, sliding down the heap to spin onto the stone floor and stop a few inches from her feet. Walking over to it she picked it up and saw that it was pretty with brown leather a jacket and green writing scrolled on the cover in some weird language.

Climbing back on the bed she placed the book next to her, she lay there face down wondering if anyone would come about all the noise, she had caused. Looking up Sarah frowned, hearing a whooshing noise. Sitting up with a gasp, she saw that the vase was back on the table as though nothing had happened to it. Turning towards the bookcase, she groaned and lay down throwing her arms over her eyes. The books were back in their original place on the shelves. Shivering as an eerie chill ran down her spine, sitting up she looked at the door a saw the small book in front of it. Climbing off the bed she cautiously picked up the brown book for the second time and walked to the window to inspect it by the suns dying light.

"It's the last one I threw," she said as she looked and almost dropped it when she was able to read the writing on the cover, The Time and Life of the Goblin King!

As a loud knock sounded on her door she dropped the book on the ledge and spun around to see who would enter.

"H-Hello?" she asked breathlessly,

Silence was all she heard from the other side of the door, causing Sarah think she was going crazy. Retrieving the book, depositing it on the table she approached the door to ask, "Who is it?" Stepping back and she waited. She heard the key turn in the lock, straightening her spine as it opened.

The dark figure stood in the entranceway, lifting a single candle to its face to dispense of the shadows hiding it. Sarah had not planed on seeing this face again, it haunted her dreams with labyrinths and strange creatures, it caused her many sleepless nights and it still made her leery of peaches. Stepping back in shock she tried closing the door only to have a large hand slam against it stopping her.