Chapter VI

Hearing her voice, but not catching the exact words, Jareth sat up suddenly – aware that something wasn't exactly right. For one thing, he was sitting on hard, cold stone, and for another – there was nothing familiar about his surroundings. He knew his castle inside and out – knew every turn, every room, every corridor by sight, touch and direction; after all – it had been his home for . . . ever. He came so long ago, so many millions of centuries had passed there, that he couldn't really remember a time when he didn't know exactly where he was.

This, therefore, was a first, and very unsettling experience. Not only did he not know where he was, or how he got here, Jareth couldn't even tell where the sky went. He looked around, searching for the familiar pinkish – orange glow, but only after about a minute figured out that the huge, twinkling violet thing above his head must be it.

But, what had happened?

It didn't happen often that the Goblin King didn't understand something, and Jareth hated it. Bouncing to his feet with electric energy, he quickly put his back to the solid wall behind him, bewildered, not knowing in the least what to expect from all of this. Not losing his coolness for a minute however, he let his eyes take in the weird scenery. Stonewalls on two sides. The "sky" overhead. It seemed to be a very narrow corridor running straight for miles, if he could trust what he saw. Not seeing anything else, Jareth closed his eyes for a fraction of a second, remembering . . . it reminded him of something, this whole situation . . . Something that had happened not too long ago . . . He seemed to remember feeling these emotions before, though he himself had never experienced it . . . as though he had just been watching from the sidelines . . .

Of course. Sarah. It was her voice, after all, that had woken him. Sarah's first moments in his Labyrinth were almost identical to this. Took him long enough – this was a Labyrinth. He had only spent a few billion years creating one himself – it really shouldn't have taken him this long – he should have realized it from the start. Well. A labyrinth shouldn't be too bad, he thought – even though I have no idea why I'm here – I can at least get out soon enough . . . With a sigh, Jareth relaxed; tensed muscles unknotting, and leaned back against the wall behind him.

And fell none too gracefully onto his back – as the seemingly solid wall parted invitingly behind him, changing its shape. With a curse he rose, staring down the now once again ordinary and perfectly solid-looking wall. What was this nonsense? Walls only parted for guests – along with all the trap doors, dead ends, forests and gates – and all of them didn't dare do it without his specific order or wish! He certainly did not wish for it now, and if he were at home – someone would pay dearly for his ridiculous fall! If he were at home, the guardian goblin along with his whole family would be banished to the Bog of Eternal Stench in a snap! If he were at home . . .

Here Jareth mentally stumbled, looking around. The answer stared him in the face from every side. Every shrub, wall, brick, even that damned unnatural sky – all of them pointed out a very vital, key detail that his all-seeing mind had somehow managed to overlook: he was not at home. This wasn't his Labyrinth. He was the guest – and like it or not, he now had to face all of the tricks that he himself had used so many times to lure unwary travelers into uncomfortable situations. Like it? Definitely not! He'd already managed to fall into the simplest trap – shifting masonry – forgetting the all-time golden rule that everyone entering his Labyrinth had to live by – nothing is as it seems, so you can't take anything for granted! The rules hadn't changed – but the players have.

For the second time in his life, Jareth felt trapped and absolutely pinned down. Feeling his stone cage with every fiber of his body, Jareth practically seethed with rage. His attempt to walk through the walls, always going in one direction, and getting out that way had failed completely as he walked twice into solid stone that now absolutely refused to part for him. Frustrated, he threw himself at the wall – immediately remembering Sarah's fits of frustration and passionate rebellion . . . This was becoming to much for him – he wouldn't dare admit it openly, even to himself, but the bold fact was evident.

Finally, he'd come to the end of his rapidly fraying rope of temper – which was never too long under any circumstances, and was extremely short under these. He'd had enough. Whenever he got frustrated and nothing else would work, Jareth just flew away. She was absolutely right he acknowledged with a slight shadow of his old smile, it is nice to be able to just fly way. He was ready to feel the freedom, the hugeness of this world – ready to let the wind take him, be his guide in this strange sky. It beckoned him, waiting – all coolness and shadows, and calming openness. Almost feeling the swell of the night-wind, Jareth half-closed his eyes, waiting for that sudden lightness – for that upward thrust . . .

It never came. There were no wings at his command, no empty violet to bathe in. His eyes snapped open, immediately narrowing into dangerous slits. Who the hell was doing this to him? He had never been at the mercy of anyone before, save his own heart, and Sarah's dreams. This, he was sure – didn't belong to either category. Why was he here? What was he to do? Questions raced through his mind, and he now truly knew what Sarah felt when she was confused. He had watched her from the sidelines, silently laughing at her jumble of unfinished thoughts, but had now found out – quite painfully – that it was far from a pleasant experience. Bowing his proud head, the Goblin King stood in thought – a simple choice, yet impossibly difficult in its simplicity was staring hungrily at him – would he go left, or right?