Chapter Nine: The Four Wise Ones
"When a man is wise in his own eyes, he would do well to stock up on this. It won't be long before everyone tells him he is a fool, and then he will soon begin to believe it. There is no gainsaying the vast majority, no matter what you might think to be true."
"What did he mean?"
As soon as Turnabout was out of sight, Erik had begun walking, very quickly. Sarah hurried along behind him, her hand still caught in his arm, frantically trying to keep up. The Chief Minion's words resounded in her head—
"Sickness is catching—"
"Erik, tell me what he meant."
"I will tell you the story some time," he said. "But now, we must rush and save your brother, is that not so? You tell me many times that the hours are running short. Do you honestly want me to stop here and tell you the tale? It would take a long time."
"Can't you just tell me on the way?"
He let out a sound halfway between an exasperated sigh and an equally exasperated laugh, but didn't answer other than that.
"Then just tell me this," said Sarah, skipping a few steps in order to catch up with him again. "What do I need to beware of? What is it about you that could be dangerous to me?"
He stopped dead in his tracks and spun round— she ran up against his chest, her head banging painfully on one bony shoulder. He advanced, and she was forced to step back.
"After I helped you, you do not trust me?"
His voice was silky as always, but with ragged and torn edges. His eyelids flickered wildly as his gaze burned into her eyes— burned clear down to the pit of her stomach, leaving a hole that filled up with dread. He was a dangerous man, that was quite clear.
Sarah tried to put words together, and found it rather difficult with his breath on her face, his hands reaching up to close over her shoulders, he was so close—
"Its not that I don't appreciate it," she said. "I mean, everything you've done. I mean, getting me out of the oubliette. Because I do— appreciate it, that is— I just—"
He bent even closer, his lips mere inches away from hers.
"Answer yes or no," he murmured.
Sarah swallowed.
"Yes."
"What?"
"Yes, of course I trust you."
He breathed out and let her go.
"I do so hate being lied to."
Erik turned away from her and walked on. Sarah stood still for a moment, looking after him— watching the way he moved, stalking strides, the material of the black cloak billowing round him like a great black bird—
"I trust you more than I would trust Jareth, or his henchmen," she called after him.
He paused, and stared straight ahead.
She waited for an answer, and it was not long in coming.
"Come here, child," he said. "I will tell you honestly, the way things are."
She advanced, and said, very quietly, "You have met Jareth— haven't you?"
He half-turned, and she could see his profile, the scar standing out lividly on his left cheek against the sallow skin, which seemed to have had no contact with the light, ever.
"I have," he said. "He gave me this—"
He gestured at the scar.
"Only as a souvenir, I am sure. Had he used his magic, I wouldn't have prevailed, I have no doubt of it. But he had no reason to resort to those means."
She advanced closer to him, and reached for his hand.
He looked down at her fingers, so much smaller than his, as they curled around his hand, intertwined with his fingers and rested, warm and slightly damp, in his palm.
"He has something of mine," Erik murmured. "And I need desperately to get it back."
She brought his hand closer to her, closed her other hand around it, held it up to her chest, just underneath her throat. There was such sadness in his voice; she couldn't bear it. Suppose the only way to make him happy was to—
"I will tell you," he said, and the words she had been about to say died away on her lips.
A voice came from in front of them.
"I trust we aren't interrupting something?"
"I don't think you mean 'trust.' I think you mean 'hope to God' we aren't interrupting something."
"Oh, do be quiet."
"Look at them, there's at least thirty years age difference, if not more!"
"We have had this discussion."
"I see nothing wrong with having it again."
"Be quiet."
"Don't tell me what to do."
"I am telling you what to do, I'm telling you to be quiet."
"Why should I?"
As one, Erik and Sarah turned to look at the four figures that now advanced towards them. They were led by a small woman, who had a determined face and long flowing hair— she was the one who was snappishly demanding that no one tell her what to do. Next to her came two other girls, both a bit younger, both a bit taller— one with dark red hair, the other with short black hair. Behind them was a man, tall and pleasant-looking, of no particular age— he had been fighting with the woman.
They all looked like perfectly normal human beings, and this was such a rarity in the Labyrinth that both Erik and Sarah backed up several paces, warily.
"Introductions!" said the woman in front.
"Can I do them?" said the girl with black hair, pushing her glasses up her nose. "I'm good at them. I've had practice. They're fun."
"Go ahead, then."
The girl struck a pose. "Seadri!" she said, pointing at the red-haired girl. "The Grounded One. Seanmrahain, the imposing figure just beneath my shoulder, is Incessant Nagging. I myself am Seachain, the Visible Manifestation of Art, and behind us is Setherin, the Master. He handles Questions, Advice, and books our tour dates. Thank you very much." Seachain took a bow.
Seanmrahain nudged her. "You forgot th—"
"Oh! Right. We are— the— um— you know what? I forgot."
"I know."
"No, I mean, I honestly forgot."
"I didn't say you didn't," said Setherin, from behind them.
"No, I mean, I can't remember."
Sarah leaned upwards to try and whisper in Erik's ear.
"Who are they?"
"I haven't the faintest idea," murmured Erik back. "I haven't met with them before in my travels. Perhaps they're new."
"New?" said Seadri, who had extremely acute hearing. "You say that as though we were just some entertainment the Labyrinth decided to throw up for your benefit. I'll have you know that we've been wandering the whole East Quarter for the past two hundred years. We're tried and true— no fly-by-night act."
"Yes," said Erik, carefully, "but what exactly are you?"
The women began to quarrel amongst themselves, and from behind, Setherin, the Master, said calmly, "We are The Four Wise Ones."
Sarah and Erik stared at them.
"We handle Questions, Complaints, Directions, Metaphysics, Out-Of-Body Experiences, and Obfuscations."
"Pontifications a specialty," added Seanmrahain.
"I was about to say that," said Setherin.
"Yes, but you didn't."
"But I was about to."
"But I said it, Seth, so shut up."
He glared at her and the two of them lapsed into an angry silence, broken only by Seanmrahain muttering, "He may be my Master, but that doesn't mean I have to like it."
"The Four Wise Ones?" repeated Sarah. "I'm sorry, I mean no offense, but— how exactly are you The Four Wise Ones?"
"Isn't it obvious?" chirped Seachain. "We represent the major requirements that life makes of people. Think about it. The Grounded One, Incessant Nagging, Visible Manifestation of Art, and the Master— Sanity, Perseverance, the ability to make people think you're talented, and the willingness to walk all over anyone who stands in your way."
Sarah blinked at them.
"Well— I'm not sure I agree with that, actually."
They stared at her. To her surprise, she even felt Erik staring at her, as well.
"What?"
"Call me old and cynical—" said Erik
"Alright, you're old and cynical," piped up Seanmrahain.
He ignored her. "But— they're absolutely right."
"Are they? But that's awful! I mean, what about the important things in life, like—" Haphazardly, Sarah grasped at something that seemed important to her. "Beauty."
From the looks she got from Erik and from The Four Wise Ones, this was clearly the wrong thing to say.
"Well, music then."
Erik nodded slowly.
"I would agree that music is very important. However, it isn't possessed by everyone."
"Intelligence, then."
"Ah, you see, the same thing goes for that as well."
Sarah looked from him to The Four Wise Ones, who stood in a line, their arms folded, staring back at her with identical blank stares.
"I can't believe that you four are the only important things in life," she said.
"The thing about belief," said Seachain, "is that it very rarely matters."
"Exactly," said Setherin, with a sage nod.
"But I don't believe that, either!" said Sarah.
"So what?" said Seanmrahain, just by way of demonstration.
Sarah, incredibly frustrated, stomped her foot. Erik smiled and patted her arm.
"Perhaps you could simply give us some directions, then," he addressed the Four Wise Ones. "You did list that as one of the offices which you perform, yes?"
"We did indeed," said Seanmrahain.
"I did," said Setherin.
"Shut up."
"Don't tell me to shut up."
"Whilst they're arguing," suggested Seadri, "perhaps you could tell us where exactly you want to go?"
"To the castle beyond the Goblin City," said Sarah, very definitely.
The Four Wise Ones stopped arguing and exchanged glances.
"Oh foolhardy one," said Seadri, carefully, "you had better be a hardy fool, indeed."
"Can you help us?" asked Sarah. "Please?"
The three women looked at Setherin, who pulled a large and dusty tome out of thin air and opened it. He thumbed through the thin, onionskin pages, slowly and deliberately. Sarah and Erik waited patiently.
Eventually, he made an "Ah!" sort of noise, ran his finger down one page in particular, then glanced up at them.
"No," he said.
Sarah stared at him. "What?" she said blankly.
"No, we can't help you there. We can tell you how to get to the nearest ice cream parlor, and which turn to take to visit the Elephant Graveyard, and how to avoid the Miscellaneous Beast, which I've heard is very nasty. But we cannot help you get to the castle beyond the goblin city."
"Why not?" Sarah cried. "You said you gave directions—"
"Yes, but we cannot give directions if there are no directions to give," said Setherin, in a kind voice. He held up the book for her to see the pages— under the boldface type where it said "Castle" it was blank. "I'm terribly sorry about it—"
"That is alright, we do understand," said Erik, since Sarah seemed incapable of saying anything. "Thank you for your time. We'll just be on our way."
He took Sarah by the arm and began to lead her off; she glanced over her shoulder in time to see the Master get irritated with Seanmrahain, pick the small woman up, and throw her over his shoulder. He and the other two walked off down the road, while the spirit of Incessant Nagging, slumped over his shoulder, hit him a few times, not hard, with her fist and then resigned herself to her fate.
She turned back to Erik.
Her voice was subdued.
"You told me you would tell me about what happened to you."
He paused, and sighed. "Are you sure you want to hear it?"
"Yes. I need to know. And I want you to be honest, if you please."
Another sigh escaped his lips, and then, slowly, as they walked along the twisted road, he told her of his greatest treasure, and how she fled from him.