The thoughts were intense, but remembered within a matter of minutes. Jareth looked down at his water, almost completely forgotten. His eyes had adjusted to the darkness, where he saw several guitars and amps spread about. Jeremiah was still rummaging through books, a constant wrinkled reminder of Jareth's stupidity.

A whole lifetime of mistakes sat in Jareth's brain like dead weight, and he sank deeper into the chair. He was lonely. How many years had he coveted the woman who now must be his enemy, as he had been hers at one time? How long was he to go on in unrequited love? He felt blown about in a vortex of chaos and mischief, and he felt bitterly angry at himself and whatever deity had chosen to place such unfair challenges in his path.

'I know that you were different back then. But, even though you were supposed to be the bad king that Sarah used to tell me stories about, I know you weren't really bad.' Jareth remembered Toby's words with a heavy heart. The look of complete innocence on the boy's face came to mind, and filled Jareth with deep sadness. The boy had no concept of what Jareth had actually done. While Toby had meant to console Jareth with his words, it had only served to put a mirror in front of his eyes. All men started in the world with innocent eyes, and it was their own fault when that innocent vision was lost.

It meant a great deal to Jareth that the boy would try so hard to absolve an old, foolish man of his sins. Jareth was amazed at how flattered he was by the little boy's approval. And, yet, it filled him with a deeper sorrow, a sorrow for all things he had lost. He had lost the innocence that Toby took for granted. He had lost his chance to find love with Sarah. He had squandered a lifetime.

His eyes watered, and he felt tears falling from his eyes in small drops. His chest tightened in the grips of his sorrow. He hadn't cried in over twenty years. Never had he been filled with enough remorse to warrant tears, nor had he been one for self pity.

He dropped his head into his hands and let the tears fall. His sobs were quiet, but pained.

It wasn't all too surprising to Jareth when Jeremiah took this awkward moment to stick his head into the door and address him. "Jareth, what are you doing? We have work."

Jareth looked up at the old man, bitterly angry to be caught by him in a moment of such vulnerability. The silence creaked as Jeremiah noted the tears on Jareth's face. Noted them, then moved toward the study. "Come," he said with his back turned. "We don't have time."

Jareth rose slowly, bitter on more levels than he could register. It was at that moment when Jareth knew beyond a doubt that he needed to keep a close eye on his former master. The coldness he saw in Jeremiah's eyes registered more than dedication to an important task.

The former Goblin King pulled a handkerchief from his pockets and dried his eyes, then went to join Jeremiah in the study. First he would find the spell to separate Kaleb and himself, then he would tend to the task of finding out what Jeremiah was really here to do. As they found their seats in the small library, Jeremiah took on a cool calm that he had not possessed earlier while Jareth had watched him from the studio.

Jareth just as coolly opened a book for perusal, but under the surface he was seething with a troubling questions over how exactly Jeremiah was involved in the goings on of the last days.

He had a whole evening ahead of him to confront the man with sneaky conversation. For the moment he contented himself with the daunting task of finding the perfect spell to solve all their troubles.

Before he could read a line, Jeremiah broke the silence. "We've got a very big problem."

Jareth looked at him quizzically.

"Go ahead, read the first line of your book."

Jareth looked down at the volume with dread. "Eepnay, bozlqyat nizwhat peggle dekot do." He looked back up at his teacher. "What language is this?"

"My experience would suggest gibberish," Jeremiah said with dark sarcasm.

Jareth looked over the desk to all the books Jeremiah had opened. They all were filled with the same nonsensical words. Like the faucet in the kitchen, they had been rendered useless.

"Lovely," Jareth blurted acidly.


Claw wandered the streets of the city, on his way to the base camp of the army, looking out for suspicious activity. He noticed something moving in against the brick walls. It was a bit of shadow. The darkness crawled up the red brick and onto a ledge, where it made the shape of a raven.

"She's looking for enemies," it squawked. "She knows you're coming for her."

Claw nodded at the bird then waved him off with his wing. It melted back into the shadows and went on its way.


Leah and Jeremy spent a late dinner in the cafeteria in what looked like a post-apocalyptic war zone—or at least a post-cream pie zone.

"So this place Underground, it's not really Underground, is it?" Jeremy asked with a mouthful of mashed potatoes.

"I don't think so. But it is connected to Aboveground. I really don't know how it works. It's always shifting and changing there, so it's really hard to explain," Leah answered. She devoured the food with abandon, having been deprived of food for a long time.

"Man, I tell you what, it sounds like something Jim would come up with," he said in amazement.

Leah shrugged. "What's to say he didn't? Or at least part of it. I've always suspected that that's exactly how the two were connected. Through the imagination."

"Wild. Absolutely wild." Jeremy put his fork down and slid his tray away. "Surely you don't want to sleep in the office again. Don't take this wrong, but do you want to stay at my place?"

Leah smiled at his gentlemanly behavior. "That would be great, I need a good night's sleep after today's chaos."

"Big day tomorrow, too." Jeremy picked up their trays for proper disposal, a perfectly ironic action in the face of the disarray. One lonely muppet janitor pushed the remaining sludge along with a wide broom while humming a ditty.

They went up to Leah's office to check on Damion. They found him dancing with a bunch of other Muppets to a Will Smith song on a big silver jukebox. The bird-man's feathers were in a horrible state. "Miss Leah!" Damion shouted when the two stepped into the doorway. "So good to see you! I see you found what you were looking for!"

Leah could barely hear him above the music. She was more amused than she let on to see Damion letting it all hang out. She was starting to suspect the man had a bit of Firey blood. "Damion, we're going to leave the office for the night, do you want to come?"

"Well, I would, but I heard there's a party"

"PARTAY!" shouted all the Muppets with a chorus of loud whooping.

"and I thought I would join them," Damion finished, looking a little sheepish at the suggestion.

Leah smiled at him wryly. "That's quite alright, Damion. We'll see you back at the office tomorrow."

With that the only two humans left at Jim Henson Studios left for the night. They made it outside, and there was still a lot of traffic arround the L.A. lot.

"Here, let me try to get a cab," Jeremy said as he stepped forward and waved down a passing yellow taxi. The driver, a big heap of fur and muscle that was too large to fit in his own vehicle, honked happily at Jeremy and hooted out the window. "Hey Buddy, nice to see ya!" and continued to speed away.

Jeremy was utterly perplexed, and tried to wave down another cab. The squat dwarf that drove the cab rolled his windows down and shouted, "What do you think, that I am a chauffer or something? Go get your own ride, Pal!"

The man crinkled his brow and walked back over to Leah, who was trying to suppress a giggle. Jeremy blurted out a laugh in response. "Well, guess we're going to have to go on my bike."

"I don't suppose we can both fit on it?" Leah asked.

"Sure, it's a two-seater." He grinned broadly.

As they walked the sidewalk that shot through the lot to the bike rack, Leah asked, "Why didn't you just say that you had a bike in the first place?"

"I figured you'd had enough trouble for one night," he answered while unlocking the bike from the rack.

They hopped on and, after a few moments to adjust, were on their way. Leah bent close to Jeremy's ear so she could be heard. "Why does a single guy have a two-seater bike?"

He looked over his shoulder with a playful smile and answered, "I guess I've always been an optimist. I'd say it's paid off, wouldn't you?"

Leah couldn't help but wonder where this guy had been all her life. She laughed amiably and admired the transformed Los Angeles from the view of a bike made for two.

They arrived at Jeremy's apartment building without incident. Leah helped him lead his bike through the doorway, where they had to maneuver past a woman with large tusks. She huffed at them snobbishly.

They made it to the twenty-first floor of the high-rise complex, and finally to the apartment. On the way up Leah filled him in on the details that led to the day's rash of strange occurences.

Jeremy started to look for his key. "Would you believe rent here costs me close to three thousand dollars a month? This place is a dump."

Leah was obviously listening to something else. "Uh, Jeremy, do you have roommates?"

"No, why?" Jeremy followed Leah's gaze. His door was vibrating. He had been completely oblivious to the loud bass coming from inside.

He didn't stay perplexed for long. He opened the door to find a large group of strange characters littering his one-bedroom apartment. He put his bike in the narrow hallway and went to the living room to survey the damage.

The miscellaneous bunch were distracted in a variety of ways and hadn't seen Jeremy enter. Two three-foot high poofballs with mismatched legs and eyes were playing Tony Hawk Pro Skater II on his Playstation, a handful of squid-beings played cards, while everyone else chatted in the kitchen while consuming slices of pizza acquired from a large toppling tower of boxes. Jeremy approached the tottering boxes and gingerly removed a receipt from the top one, which displayed in careful dot matrix the sixteen digits that made up his credit card number. It also had the large sum of two hundred thirty dollars.

Jeremy summed the situation up and approached a large-mustached half-rat who was entertaining the group in the kitchen. He grabbed the rat-man's collar and looked him in the eyes. "Marty Miguel, you better have a good explanation for all this."

"Jeremy! You are home so soon!" the rat cooed. "Just lemme go and I'll explain!"

Jeremy dropped the man while Leah watched quietly from the hallway.

Marty looked over at her and clucked his tongue. "Ah, I see, gotta look tough in front of the lady." He waved to Leah. "Hello Mamasita!"

Jeremy shoved the rat. "Don't talk to her like that. Show some respect."

"Sorry Jerr," Marty answered sheepishly. "The fellas were just hungry, that's all."

"You know I don't have the cash for this kind of feast," Jeremy said, noting that all the boxes were empty but one. "You're gonna have to pay tomorrow, you know. You all better come back and clean this mess up." Jeremy started playing with a pencil he found on the counter, and tapped menacingly on the eraser at the end.

"Come back, Jerr? Where we goin'?" Marty looked sincerely concerned by Jeremy's ominous tapping.

Jeremy rolled his eyes and dropped the pencil on the counter. "To take your party somewhere else, that's where. We need to get some rest." He looked over at Leah. "Wanna Coke?"

Leah smiled wryly and nodded her head. Jeremy started to rummage through the fridge. He slammed the door quickly and jabbed Marty. "No Coke, either! You drank it all, you rat!"

"Well, yeah, I am a rat," Marty said, shrugging. "Don' get so mad, this is how you made me, Jerr." The rat started fumbling with his green tie. "Jerry, where we gonna go? You know we ain't got nowhere."

Jeremy scrounged for his backup stash of soda in the cupboard over the sink. He pulled out a can and a glass. "You pick a hell of a time to come to life," he mumbled while getting ice and pouring the soda into the glass. He shot a glance at the piece of paper the pencil had been sitting next to—it was a clean loose leaf sheet.

"I'm not kicking you out," he clarified while handing Leah the glass. "There's a party over at Pepe's place. Why don't you take the party over there?"

Marty looked relieved. "Oh sure, Jerr, no problem. We can do that." The rat turned to the living room. "Hey, fellas, we gotta go! Party at Pepe's!"

Everyone hooted their excitement. The poofball twins dropped the game controllers and the whole group hopped out of the apartment excitedly. Jeremy addressed Marty at the door. "Don't come back until after noon tomorrow, you got that?"

Marty winked at Jeremy conspiratorally. "You got it, Jerr."

"Oh, enough of that, I just don't want you to wake me up. Get outta here, already."

"Right, right Jerr. I'll see ya tomorrow."

"I'd better. You're gonna have to scrub the bathroom just for this!"

Jeremy closed the door with a hearty sigh and turned to face Leah, who was sipping happily on her Coke and smiling at him. "No roommates, huh?"

"Not in the traditional sense, no." Jeremy locked the door then went into the kitchen to grab a slice of pizza. "I just make up characters all the time. Marty is one of my favorite ones... I've drawn him since I was six years old. When I first made him up, I would imagine that he was helping me clean my room, cause I always hated it so much." He talked while munching. "I was doodling him the other day. I just figured he came to life while I was away."

Leah slanted a brow at him. "You figured, huh?" She poked the funny-looking pizza circumspectly. "What kind of pizza is that, anyway?"

"Chocolate and marshmallow, the way I figure it," Jeremy said, chewing thoughtfully.

"Think I'll pass," Leah said, closing the pizza box.

"Suit yourself," he answered with a smug smile. He turned the Playstation off and switched the channel to MSNBC.

"Huh, looks like your sister is playing havoc in New York," he said between bites.

Leah walked over to observe the scene.

"The lights are bright in Broadway, tonight as every night," the ironically well-spoken goblin anchor-woman said with a genteel smile filled with a row of small teeth. To the left of her, a screen graphic illustrated Sarah's seductively smiling face. Underneath it was written, "Queen Sarah's Visit."

The screen moved to a previously recorded scene while the anchorwoman continued her reporting. "But the lights were that much brighter when Queen Sarah made an appearance before a throng of her new citizens at the base of the newly rennovated Times Building."

Sarah stood in front of a large group of humans and creatures alike, who held a variety of signs upon which were scrawled things like, "We love you, Sarah," and "You're my hero."

"Somebody's a big star all of a sudden," Jeremy remarked dryly.

Leah continued to watch the program in silence.

"Individuals from all over the United States and Canada have come in great numbers just to get a glimpse of the Queen," the anchorwoman continued. "Spokesgoblins for the Queen have reported that she will be traveling abroad soon to spread word of the new regime. Until then, she has plans to do a short campaign trail some major U.S. cities to speak about her plans for the New World."

A camera passed over the crowd to show the large cluster of fans, and moved in to show Sarah waving and smiling like a friendly ambassador. Another camera zoomed in for a close up.

"I want to thank all of the gracious beings of this city for welcoming me so warmly. I wouldn't have been able to accomplish so much if it weren't for your help." With that, she waved again and climbed into a long, black limo.

"The Queen was spotted later this evening at Studio 54. Correspondents have discovered that she is now in complete control of the guest list."

The camera at the news studio pulled back to reveal the male anchor who responded with a fake chuckle. "Watch out all you hipsters, if you thought the club was discerning before, wait until the Queen gets hold!"

The female anchor laughed emptily. "That's right, John! The Queen does have impeccable taste. Have you seen the fashions she has sported in the last hour? Stunning!"

"I certainly have, Joan. The Queen sparkles as brightly as the jewels she wears!"

He sobered up quickly as he pressed his finger to his earpiece to receive an urgent message. "I wish our next story was as joyful as our first, Joan." A new infographic appeared to his left. It sported a picture of a giant chicken. "It seems that Alan Rickman, actor of Harry Potter fame, has befallen great tragedy this evening. Let's go live to the scene to hear a bystander's side of it."

The image cut to a busy sidewalk, where a Fiery man in Nike running gear was jogging in place. Behind him stood a giant chicken with a long, aquiline nose.

"Yeah, man, like, Queen Sarah was comin' down the street, you know, goin' to Studio 54 and Alan Rickman was waiting in line, and you know, he called her a tart!" The large chicken behind him started clucking angrily. "She turned him into a giant chicken, man! Lookit'im, he's a giant chicken!"

The camera zoomed in on the chicken, who looked distinctly like Alan Rickman, before jumping back to the studio. The goblin anchors were in hysterics, rolling all over the fake desk. "A giant chicken! Ha ha ha ha!"

Leah grabbed the remote from Jeremy and changed the channel. Jeremy was too busy laughing himself silly to notice. Leah shot him a look. "I like Alan Rickman, you know."

Jeremy tried to regain his composure. "Oh, so do I, so do I." He put his finger to his lip as if trying to remain manly and thoughtful, then started stuttering goofily. "But, you know, a giant chicken."

"Ha ha, so funny. I'm dying over here," Leah spouted with a coy smile. "You'd think we were in the middle of a Warner Brothers cartoon."

"I'd say that about sums it up, yeah," Jeremy said with a grin.

Leah had flipped the station to the Home Shopping Network. A beast woman was modeling a fashion that looked like a horrible imitation of a designer line. "And here we have the black little number that Queen Sarah wore two hours ago, isn't it just darling? We're taking calls now for this cute ensemble, and just for you folks, we're charging a mere fifty-nine, ninety-nine. Can you beat that Sue?" The camera switched over to show two large beast women with large tusks and pink hair chatting. "It really is darling, Betty, you can't beat that price."

Again Leah flipped the channel, becoming increasingly disgusted. She stumbled on the local cable access channel, where a school play was being filmed. A young girl stood before a tall man with a mullet who was decked in white feathers. The sound on the video was horrible, obviously videotaped by an amateur with cheap equipment. The lines of dialogue were choppy and phoney, like most high school productions.

"I have re-ordered time," the man said. "I have turned the world up-side down, and I have done it all for you!" The worlds were blurted out ungracefully as he swept his poorly made cape around his back and circled the girl. "I'm tired of living up to your expectations of me, Sarah."

Leah's eyes were glued to the screen with a look of complete incredulity. "This isn't... happening," she mumbled.

The man pulled out what looked like a glass ball and held it before the girl with an outstretched arm. "Look what I'm offering you, Sarah. Your dreams."

The girl stepped forward with pained forcefulness. "You have no power over me!" she belted out in the most heavy Valley Girl accent Leah had ever heard.

The man swung his large cape over his body and disappeared in the shadows while stage hands changed the scenery behind her into that of a hot pink bedroom. The actress who played Sarah—horribly, Leah thought—was now sitting with a phoney smile on the prop bed, snuggling a blue plush bear to her chest. "We're home, Lancey-poo," she cooed. She put the bear down and approached a crib, where she pulled a toy baby out. "Oh Toby, I'm glad you're okay."

Leah watched the rest of the story play out while Jeremy tried to clean up the rest of the mess in the kitchen. When the play was done, the screen cut to an image of a little red book with gold letters. A voiceover declared, "You have been watching Bayville High School's presentation of 'The Labyrinth.' Thank you for watching, and tune in next week for an encore presentation, and the recently released sequel"

Leah turned off the television with complete disgust. "What the hell is the deal? Is it going to be all Sarah, all the time now? I never thought she was this self-absorbed."

Jeremy appeared from a hall closet with a sheet and blanket. "Maybe she just needs to get as much press right now as possible."

"And why are people... things... why is anyone up at this hour? I don't understand."

"Hmm, maybe there's no reason to go to sleep. Now that there's nothing to dream about anymore." Jeremy's face lengthened at the notion. He made the finishing touches on the couch with Leah's help. He fluffed the pillow as a closing gesture.

"I don't know, but my body is telling me I still need to sleep. Right now, I think." Leah yawned deeply, feeling the tiredness in her bones. "Thanks for making up the couch for me."

"Oh no, this is for me. You can sleep in my room."

"But"

"Now, now, I don't want to hear a word. Off to bed with you." He led her to the bedroom, which was miraculously unscathed.

"You sure?" Leah said, feeling a little guilty when she saw the big king sized bed, neatly made up. She was surprised at how little like a guy's room it looked. It was clean and organized, with a large poster of Miles Davis playing the trumpet overlooking the bed.

"Of course I'm sure. Besides, I gotta clean up a bit before I can get rested," he answered as he started to close the door.

"I thought you hated cleaning," Leah pressed.

"I was six then," he said with a smile. "I'm all growed up now."

Leah gave him a sweet smile she only used on special occasions. "Thank you."

"Sweet dreams," he said with a goofy grin as he closed the door behind her. She instantly threw back the covers and plopped into bed. She stared at the dark ceiling a few moments, digesting her day. She thought of Sarah, and all the trouble her pseudo-sister had caused and gotten herself into. She thought of the changed world, where no one slept, and cartoons came to life. She thought about how horrid chocolate and marshmallow pizza must taste, and how sad it was that Sarah had turned Alan Rickman into a chicken (she would make her pay for that when it was all over with).

But, more than anything, she thought of the kindly puppeteer named Jeremy, and his goofy grin.


She didn't know he was thinking of her, too. After he closed the door, he ambled lazily into the bathroom and started rubbing at the stubble on his chin disdainfully. He picked up the razor sitting on the sink and started talking to it. "Well, little pal, we got a good reason to shave for a change." As he lathered up with shaving cream, he smiled broadly into the mirror. "What a great day," he mouthed with satisfaction from a mouth circled in foam.

Sarah liked the way things were going more with each passing moment. She had booked the room at Le Parker Meridien thinking she would need to rest, but she in fact felt more rested than ever in her life. Instead of returning to the room, she and Claw continued carrying out the duties required to spread the virus that would keep the worlds neatly joined.

The top floor of the Times building was clear of all walls, and had been transformed into a sprawling room, with large in-swinging windows for entry and exit. The only other means of entry were underground, openings of which only Sarah's closest minions would be aware. Pook had been right all along.

Though there were no walls, hanging fabric and deep scarlet foliage partioned the large room into different areas. A large lounging throne sat in the center of the room, near the glass doorway, which was surrounded by many plasma screen televisions dangling from the ceiling. Each one showed a different, rotating view of the city. Other smaller televisions showed a handful of capital cities around the world. Paris, London, Hong Kong, Tokyo, Sydney... No place was safe from the merging of the worlds, and the changes spread like a ripple effect from Sarah's headquarters in New York.

The large room was empty except for Claw, an aviary of sharp-looking ravens, and a handful of busy-looking creatures.

Sarah took the moment to lounge, as she had been very busy with public appearances most of the night. She looked up at the barren wall over the vast doorway and, with a minute amount of concentration on her part, a three-foot diameter clock appeared. Sarah smirked, having a dramatic notion, and squinted at the clock. A thirteenth hour was instantly added.

"Why thirteen hours?" Claw said as he came toward the throne.

Sarah smiled. "It's an inside joke."

"I see." The bird looked out the window. "I came to tell you that I've sent out a few more troupes of the surveillance team. There's also another thousand who signed up to be in your royal army." Claw shook his head in amazement. "I don't know how you're doing it."

Sarah stood before a large plasma screen that dangled lower than the rest, and flipped through images. "Someone taught me a long time ago that your average person doesn't require much to be tempted into complete submission. Just start with their hopes and dreams, and you will come very close to getting what you want from just about anybody."

"What about the rest?" Claw asked, sincerely curious.

"Either you gracefully fork over the win, or you crush them."

Claw seemed a little uncomfortable by her statement, even if he obviously revered her great power.

Sarah saw the flash of surprise wash over his face. Yes, she knew it was harsh. But Jareth had been cruel to her, once, and he taught her the value of making people pay for fighting back. At the time, she had thought him unnecessarily cruel. Now she understood what his game was, and why cruelty was necessary. However, she would never let him get away with that cruelty. She also knew that part of the rules of the game were that revenge is eternal, and that the greatest warrior never lets conscience stand in the way of expediency. It was the way of things. Someday she would wrong someone stronger than herself, and they would come to collect payment. But that day was far off, and today was the day to make the most of her spoils.

The shop that she had sent Claw to investigate had turned up empty. While she was suspicious of the former inhabitants, she had been getting an increasing amount of false alarms. Untransformed humans abounded, and there were little pockets of magical forces all over the city forming. She suspected many people guilty of forming rebellious groups. She would deal with them all in due time.

She knew Jareth was somewhere around, and that he probably had not been terribly changed by the merger. She wasn't yet strong enough to sense where he was, and there was no telling how far away he would be. However, once the initial plans had been put in place and she could divert some of her energy to larger spells, she would be able to do a location spell to find Jareth, Toby, and anyone else that she hadn't left trapped in the Mist of Dreams.

Sarah looked at Claw with a summing glance. The bird was clever, associating himself only with the strongest people, seeming casual and only mildly interested in any passing affairs. But she knew that somehow he was the secret behind Kaleb's power, that this bird had more to him than he put on display. It was time to test his merit.

She brough forth an image on screen. The camera seemed to be zooming through a warp hole before manifesting in the middle of a dry mesa desert where muddy river beds dotted the land. It was encased in mist. As the camera slowed down, a large group of travelers came into view, most of which were sleeping before a great fire. It was Light Sarah's troupe, but nowhere was she to be found. Dark Sarah assumed that her counterpart and a few other travelers including Sage were inside the cave by the riverbed. Two Aborigine men slept with the group.

The cave prevented a detailed head count, but it didn't matter, because Sarah found what she was looking for instantly.

"Move in on Hoggle," she said into a little microphone that arched beside her throne. It wasn't clear to whom she was speaking, but the camera moved with smooth swiftness in front of the sleeping Hoggle. His knobby face was contorted with obvious nightmares. His usual baubles decorated his leather belt. However, a new item was attached by a string—a shiny, black Raven's feather.

"Kaleb," Sarah mouthed with a sinewy smile. She turned to Claw, who had been keenly watching her actions. "I want you to get that feather for me."

"How do you know that's Kaleb?" Claw pressed.

Sarah looked at the image of the feather, and felt a current pass through space, toward her. It drew her to it. It called her. She could hear a familiar voice on the wind. It wanted away, but did not know to whom it was really calling. It would probably regret once it found out she had been the one listening.

"I just do," she said, reclining in her throne again. "I also know they must have something in their possession that did that to him. They couldn't have done it on their own weak magic." She seemed to rethink her decision to relax and rose again to pull on a heavy coat. "I have things to tend to right now. You retrieve the feather and find out how they did it to him. If they have any talismans in their possession, I want them." She waved the large doors open with a hand. They made a heavy swooshing sound a s they slid open. A small dragon arced gracefully from a distance on the horizon, floating past the moon on shiny wings as it slowly approached the window of the Times building. It was the color of amber and ruby, sneering as it raised its haunches and carefully set its heavy mass down on the throne room floor.

The beast hissed as it let out a hot sigh. "You rang?" It slipped Sarah a bitter snarl then looked away from her, as if it didn't care about her answer.

Sarah climbed onto the harness on its back without acknowledging it's dissenting looks.

"Why do you want Kaleb?" Claw asked curiously.

"Why shouldn't I want Kaleb?" she said with a simmering glossy smile.

"Should I list the reasons?" Claw's mild sarcasm echoed in the large room. Several of the creatures who were tending to different bits of business in the great room looked up from their work suddenly, as if they thought him a fool to even consider such a tone with the queen.

"Don't tell me you're afraid of him, Claw," Sarah said with a chuckle. The onlookers seemed amazed that the bird had received no retribution for his speech.

The bird grunted. "Far from it. But I just want to make sure that having him around suits a good purpose."

"Does a cat have a good reason for toying with a mouse, Claw?" Sarah stroked the scales of the dragon seductively, which only made the dragon sneer more. Smoke curled from its nose in disgust. Sarah sighed. "If I knew where Jareth was, I'd be toying with him instead."

"It appears to me you have a bad opinion of most men," Claw observed.

"Not in the least. But some men, Claw, have great debts to pay. It's time for payback."

"That is something we agree on, my Liege," Claw said with a twisting grin on the edge of his beak. Claw brought his wings to air, and together he and the dragon rose into the night sky of New York, each one leaving with purposes of some dark intent.

Sarah sat erect atop the dragon's back and looked out over the purpleish night sky with a strange, satisfying darkness at the pit of her stomach. When the transformation first took hold, when Kaleb split her in two, light and dark, Id and Ego, she had certain expectations about who she would be and how her plans would turn out. Something that had surfaced was a deep depression, and she found herself noticing it less and less. As a whole person, she had been a mostly upbeat person, only prone to occasional fits of brooding. Or had she? Being split down the middle, each side became clearer. She felt disgusted over the weaknesses the other half of her had afforded.

Being walked on, manipulated, toyed with, disrespected, unappreciated, and so deeply concerned with the opinions of others. How could anyone be so willing to be at home with their vulnerabilities and weaknesses? Why is it that humanity woke up every single day to a world filled with every type of obstacle imagineable standing in the way of their true dreams? Why would people let anyone take away from them what they truly wanted? Why was everyone so eager to be a team player for a society that could care less about their efforts? It was all a big charade meant to hold up the status quo. And it was obvious how valuable that status quo was—Sarah had turned it upside down in a matter of hours. She would show them what leadership, power, and determination brought. She would show them that the darkness they had so long hidden themselves from was not to be feared, but embraced. For years now the yang was flowing under the surface, having to hold a shameful yin face in public. The real history stayed locked away, the chaos and dreams tempered to sleep, where they would stay docile and unthreatening.

Sarah was fed up. Living in a world where everyone told her it was a foolish wish to want to be an actress. Ever since she had been a child, there had been someone above her telling her exactly why her dreams were a fools paradise, why she needed to straighten up, get practical, grow up. Well, she grew up for certain, grew above and beyond each and every one of them, and now was giving the world a new testimony. Those who would have bridled the power to keep it safe were now facing the consequences of their selfishness. They would live the rest of their days out on a world where the power was accessible to all, where the dreams were awake.

Purple clouds dotted the night sky, through which a smattering of flying beasts of all kinds flew, trailing cool, misty smoke behind them where the mist had clung to their tails.

"You're wrong, you know," the dragon growled, interrupting Sarah's thoughts.

Sarah started at the suddenly broken silence. She knew she was toying with great danger by trying to control a dragon for her means of travel, but she also knew that she possessed the power to control it. The dragons had not changed in the merger, for they were beings of profound depth that understood the universe on all its levels. It didn't surprise her too much to think that a dragon would be the most likely to raise its voice against her.

"You think you are freeing them, but you've just enslaved them all the more." Sulfurous smoke swept from its nose past Sarah's face as it spoke, and made her cough.

"Them? Aren't you also one of my minions?" Sarah countered.

A snort forced its way out of the dragon's chest and nose and shook Sarah in her harness. "For now. Not for long." Its voice was so deep and rough, it sounded like rocks falling down a mountain in an avalanche.

"Tell me why that is," Sarah said, becoming more angry with every word that slipped out of the dragon's leering jaws. She tried to tell herself there was no reason to fear the dragon, as the power she owned was increasingly far greater than its own.

"Don't ask me stupid questions," the dragon shot back in a deep, booming voice. "You are controlling power you don't understand. The amethyst is more than a stone of power. It has a deeper past than you can even begin to fathom with your tiny mortal mind. Even if you were wise enough to understand it, the fact that you would even use it makes you a fool." The dragon snorted again. "Only dragons understand the price of power."

"Maybe you don't understand the price of speaking to me with such indiscretion," Sarah snapped. She concentrated upon stealing the dragon's capability to breathe fire as punishment, for she knew it was a dragon's primary means of survival. "Try speaking to me with such a fiery tone again, I dare you."

A rumbling rose in the dragon's stomach, rolling and gaining force, sounding at all summary inspection like a pained choke. As the moments passed, it became evident that the rumbling was only the beginning of a hearty, meniacal laugh, a croaking, shaking belly of angry dragon laughter that forced Sarah to hold on tightly to keep from falling thousands of feet to the ground. The dragon opened its mouth, showing two rows of burned teeth and a gaping, smoking throat filled with a light blue flame. The flame rose in pitch and color until a great, bellowing fire raged out of its mouth, singing the top of the trees below for a half mile.

Sarah's face became white with fear.

The dragon set down on a large grassy hill in the middle of nowhere. "Get off!" bellowed the dragon.

Sarah grudgingly did as bid. She stood before the dragon. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

The dragon bent its neck down, bringing its angled face close to Sarah's. It's head alone was half her height. "You think such parlor tricks can take the primordial breath of a dragon?" It laughed fifully at the notion. "You are playing a dangerous game little human female. You are lucky I find it so funny."

Sarah thought of the plummet she nearly took, and knew it was well within the dragon's power to kill her if it chose.

"No, I didn't kill you," the dragon responded to her thoughts with slitted eyes. "No one can kill you until this mess plays out." It snorted a heavy bellow of smoke. "If it weren't for those blasted faery sisters and their meddling, I would have already taken it upon myself. But dragons, unlike humans, know when to listen." Its yellow eyes pierced into Sarah's green eyes with heavy judgment. Sarah's face was drawn and bitter, her hair whipping around in a blustering wind that made her anger all the more apparent. She was trying to decide how to deal with the situation. She had been heading to San Francisco to continue working her press coverage, but was instead standing on a hill in the middle of nowhere being talked down by a bitchy dragon.

The dragon rolled its eyes. "You're not even listening, lost in thought over your petty conquest." A large fire escaped from its mouth into the air, looking for all the world like it had a flamethrower trapped in its breast. Sarah initially thought the movement was meant as a threat, but suddenly noticed that a large throng of black figures were approaching from all cardinal directions.

Soon, eight more dragons had arrived, each glistening a different gem color, encircling the suddenly small woman with vicious eyes.

The dragon that had brought her there turned to her with a licivious smile. "Not that I think this is going to change your childish behavior, Sarah of Sunset City... or should I say, little Sarah Williams of Forest Grove? You should have stayed there, you are still the spoiled brat you were when you came to our land nine years ago."

"A fool," another dragon concurred as smoke roiled from its nostrils.

Sarah was sitting in the middle of two directly opposed emotions. On one side she felt intimidated by the hulking masses of the ancient beasts, all circled around her, their hot breath nearly suffocating her. On the other side, she was in the midst of a heavy wrath that hadn't set upon her since Alan Rickman called her a tart earlier that evening.

"We dragons will be watching you. And when the time arrives, you should know that we are going to make a move. We don't have the patience for your petulance," the amber-colored dragon threatened.

A sapphire blue dragon shook its head in confusion. "I don't understand what Jareth sees in her."

Sarah's eyes started roiling with purplish light.

The forest green dragon chimed in. "Don't be a fool, you know it's not this one that Jareth has fallen in love with." It gave Sarah a steaming glare. "This one wasn't ever supposed to get out. If she were put back in her place, everything would be put aright."

The blustering wind grew in pitch, rustling Sarah's heavy wool coat. Her neck tensed visibly. "I think you should all be silent," she mumbled, craning her head forward slowly.

The amber dragon, obviously the oldest of the bunch, silenced the group. "That's enough. Let us just leave her here to think about her stupidity."

Sarah's brow raised then fell as she clenched her fists. "I SAID I'VE HEARD ENOUGH!"

Lightning ripped through the air, while the wind pelted the group with such force even the scaly dragons could feel it. Soon the lightning filled the air, blinding all the dragons with white light. They brought their wings over their faces to shield against the bright glare that soon consumed everything.

When the light died down, Sarah was sitting in the plush couch at an office in San Francisco, her hair still sticking with static electricity, her eyes still afire with purple light. The elfin-faced fae that owned the office didn't look in the least bit startled by her arrival, and continued in its previous task of placing a book back on a shelf. It smoothed out its smart suit and swept two fingers of a four-fingere hand through its wild hair before sitting primly in its desk. "Good to see you could make it," the Perfidious Pook commented. "I wasn't expecting you for another half hour, but, of course, it is never too soon to look upon your loveliness, Queen Sarah."

Sarah's hair instantly calmed, quietly laying back into long, dark rivulets around her shoulders. "Thank you, Pook. I had to forgo my more leisurely transportation in favor of something less argumentative."

"I tried to tell you that dragons were trouble," the asexual Pook commented with a wry, crooked brow.

"Well, it is taken care of." Sarah brushed her earlier anger aside, and laugh that could be called nothing less than evil creeped out.

She wondered how the dragons liked being gargoyles for her home in Times Square.


Gail met her boss in a little café that they once frequented. His face was submerged in shadows, but she was grateful just to see his sharp nose poking into the light. It meant he was alright. He hadn't just been her boss, but her dearest friend.

He laughed at her in that way he had. Laughing off the whole thing, in all its seriousness. Ever since he had gotten married, she had watched his cares float away with the healing hands of love more each year.

They talked for some time while Gail sipped her coffee wistfully. "So, what do you think we should do? Sarah used the television broadcast to draw energies to her."

He nodded. "Very clever girl. I wish I had thought of that." He laughed carelessly.

"You already did, you know."

"Yes, yes. But I could have done so much more. Could have ruled the world." He smirked. "Didn't care enough for it to try, though. I wonder how much hair product I would have to wear in order to rule it, though? I would have to wear product every moment."

"You already do, don't you?"

"Oh, right." He put his coffee on the table and got serious. "But that's what we do."

"What?"

"We use her own game against her. If you girls can put together something to defeat her, I can pull something together to take her troops' mind off all this insanity."

"And what would that be?"

"Just a little song and dance. A little song and dance to take their minds off her and her war and her beguiling fantasies." He spread his hands across the sky as if painting a billboard. "I can see it now! The biggest concert ever!"

She lost herself in laughter. She knew it would work. He always had a way of making her forget herself, so why not the whole world?


In the far east, there were giants that roamed a rocky land. They built houses of bamboo and left great footprints in the marshes that sucked up with water over time. The small people below trembled in their passing, but they were a kindly race and had no intentions of harming their neighbors.

A flock of birds came to visit the queen. She was pondering a dream she had had the previous night, in which she was a queen of dwarves in a land underground. A bird sat on the tip of her nose, like a bug, and she had to be very still in order to hear his words.

"There's a war brewing in the lands west. You must get your fleet of ships and join in battle against the dark queen."

The dwarf queen nodded solemnly, agreeing that the bird's words were true. He flew off and she rose out of her enormous throne, and gestured to the captain of her battalion to make preparations.