He was going to kill him. In a weak moment he had taken advantage of his position and now he regretted it. He paced around his lair, looking at the place where the tall blonde stranger had stood. Jareth, he had said his name was. What an awkward manner of man. To know so much, without even inquiring, he had to be some type of sorcerer. Perhaps that's why Erik couldn't kill him right away and trusted him too soon. But his offer was lucrative. Perhaps this man could offer him the chance he so needed to win Christine back. Erik looked toward a model he had made in the shape of Christine. The model was wearing a wedding dress. Erik knew then that he would make a pact with the devil just to have her with him. To have her die with him. He looked at the model wistfully. Somewhere, in the secret region of his heart he knew he didn't deserve her. But his ego fought back wildly, and told him that nonetheless he would have her. Erik gave a low growl and then retired. He wondered when he would be seeing this man again. Then he fell asleep.
Alisander gently padded through the dark and musky lair that he presumed to belong to Jareth's new acquaintance. He noted how similar it looked to Jareth's wing of the Goblin Castle. Perhaps these two had more in common than Jareth was willing to admit. Alisander thought briefly about opening the letter he carried, but pushed the thought away quickly. He was Jareth's most trusted goblin, and he would like to keep it that way. As he reached his destination, he noticed a figure sleeping lightly. This must be the addressee, he thought. He peered closer, and saw the man's truly ghastly face. Alisander couldn't help wondering what in the world Jareth and this man had to do with each other. He left the letter on a chest very near to where the man was sleeping and vanished right as the man began to stir.
Erik awoke to a cloud of smoke. Someone had been in his lair, and he hadn't even detected them! How foolish he had been, trusting this man, Jareth. Now his world seemed all out of whack. He knew the smoke that now filled his lungs had to be part of his mischief. He looked over at the time. It was nearly 5 in the morning. It was time to wake up anyway. He looked around and then he noticed it. A letter, very neatly sealed with a goblin's head. He opened the letter and looked with intent at its contents.
Dearest Erik,
My most sincere apologies for my abrupt departure, but I had the feeling that I could not have controlled my temper much more. One thing I have learned during my long life is that, if you want something, you must take it, or give it up forever.
But enough with the formalities. There is some information that I have gathered which will be of interest to you. The woman you seek is going to visit the grave of her father this very morning in search of the 'Angel of Music'. An interception on your behalf may prove fruitful. I will not intercept, as this is your affair, but I will see you this evening.
Yours,
Jareth
The note left Erik with many questions. But he was so excited about the prospect of being able to intercept Christine this morning that he did not bother to consider them. He did not wonder what Jareth meant by 'long life' since his looks demonstrated that he could not be a man of more than thirty. He did not even ponder how or why Jareth would find him this evening. He went out into the snowy morning with a restored sense of hope, and Jareth was the last thing on his mind.