Chapter Three: The Joining of Forces

In her darkness she was joined by the most hideous creature she'd ever seen— so hideous, indeed, that he was very nearly beautiful to look upon, and she was forced to turn her eyes away, to keep her sanity and dignity in place...

The voice that came to her ears was so beautiful as to make her weep, but at the moment, filled with irritation.

"Did your mother nor your father ever tell you it is impolite to stare?"

Sarah gaped slightly.

"And equally impolite to kick someone—"

"I— er, I said I was sorry."

"Perhaps next time," said the voice icily, "you will kindly watch where you're going. Merely a suggestion."

"I— well, I am sorry."

The glimmer that must be his eyes stared at her for another moment, then turned away as the figure hunched its— his— shoulders and returned to contemplating the ground. Sarah stood for another moment and stared, despite the fact that it was, apparently, impolite.

"I— I'm sorry to bother you— sir? But I was wondering—"

He turned back to her with a swiftness that made her jump.

"Yes?"

"Wondering if you could help me?" She cleared her throat. "Its just, I was looking for the entrance of the Labyrinth— and I couldn't see it. I wondered— um— do you know where it is?"

He stared at her.

Then he said, "Yes," and turned his attention back to the ground. He managed to convey the thought that the ground was far, far more interesting than she was or ever could be; she didn't appreciate that.

"Well, could you show me?"

"It is a physical possibility," he said, "yes."

She waited a moment, but he didn't move.

"Well— will you?"

The figure sighed, and then with startling swiftness, got to his feet. He proved to be a man, as far as she could tell— the voluminous cloak, night-black, was swathed around his body, reaching his ankles, with his hands enveloped in the folds, out of sight. The hood was pulled up over his head, so again, all she could make out was that glimmer of white in the shadows. But as he walked forward, he was proved undeniably a human man, tall and lanky and thin, and she was thankful to have that certainty at least.

"Why should I help you?" he asked finally. "What would you give me in return?"

She tried frantically to think of something.

"I don't know— I suppose I'd just have to owe you."

She couldn't tell for sure, but she got the impression that he was glaring at her.

"Owe me?"

"Yes. A favor. All I can give is my promise to repay you when I can, if you help me."

Another moment, and then he nodded.

"A worthy investment, indeed," he said smoothly. "May I direct you towards the gate, mademoiselle?" He extended an arm, and one long finger pointed at the wall just behind her.

Sarah turned. "But there's nothing—"

The words died away on her lips. Where there had been blank brick, a few minutes ago, there was now a large and ornate gate, moss-covered and rusted. She stared at it.

"But there was nothing there!"

The man's voice was undeniably sardonic. "Clearly, you have never navigated the Labyrinth before."

"No, I haven't." She peered at him. "Have you?"

"I have made the attempt, several times."

"Do you know the way to the Goblin City?"

He paused. "I have been there, yes."

"And do you know the Goblin King?"

"The Goblin King— ah, the one the natives refer to as Jareth, yes? No, I don't believe I can say I've had the pleasure, if it is a pleasure. Have you?"

"Yes," she said definitely, shivering slightly. "He took my brother— and I only have a short time to find my way to the castle beyond the Goblin City and rescue him."

"Is that so?" The voice was now thoughtful.

Sarah nodded, looking desperately at the Labyrinth in front of her. It did not look in the least hospitable.

"As a matter of fact," said the man, "this Goblin King has something that belongs to me, as well; I have been attempting to find it. I have been assured it was last seen in his domain, and have wandered here for many years, looking for it. I don't suppose—" The gaze now seemed to be speculative as he looked at her. "Perhaps it is a way you could repay me, mademoiselle. Should you find this Jareth, I would count on you to persuade him to return my possession to me."

"Is it important to you?" she asked.

He nodded slowly. "As important, as precious, as the air that I breathe— as life itself."

She nodded back.

"I'd do everything I could."

A long pause followed while he considered this.

"I suppose I could ask nothing more," he said at last.

She stuck out her hand then, determined to befriend this man, if he could help her get her brother back.

"My name is Sarah," she said.

He hesitated, then pushed his hood back. The face now revealed was startling, to say the least— composed of elegant planes, strong bones, a curving scar, newly-healed on his left cheek, and the glimmering, pristine whiteness of a half-mask on his right. His eyes, black-lashed and appearing ancient, were yellowish and direct as he looked at her.

He took her hand, bent over it, and brushed the barest whisper of a kiss over her knuckles.

"My name," he said, "is Erik."