School ended for Sarah and she worked full-time for Jeanie over the summer. When classes at the community college started up in the fall, she went back to a part-time position and began taking classes. Busy as she was, she still managed to see Toby two or three times a week and he always looked forward to his visits with her.

Toby continued to mention his horrible nightmares about being stolen from his bed and looked after by a cruel man who kept him from Sarah. Every time he told her about one, she had a strong urge to tell him why. But something stopped her—it wasn't time.

He also asked her frequently why she looked so sad. She'd always smile and tell him she was just tired.

Truth was, she'd been having sleepless nights herself. Months after her second unwanted rendezvous with the Goblin King, she was still so hurt and angry that she delved into her work and hardly ever saw anyone but Jeanie and Toby.

Sarah turned eighteen in late October, and by December she had moved out of Jeanie's house and into an apartment overlooking the park, where she used to play not all that long ago. As time went on, she eventually got past her rage and tearful nights, and eventually a time came where she was really truly happy, even through the holidays that she'd dreaded since leaving her father's house.

She knew that Moira wouldn't stand for Sarah having Toby over Christmas, and because the college campus was closed down and Jeanie insisted she take a few days off work, she was lonelier than she'd been in months. When Christmas Eve rolled around, she sat in her armchair and stared at the miniature Christmas tree on the table by the window, sipping lukewarm eggnog and listening to Bing Crosby sing "White Christmas." It was utterly depressing.

But in the midst of her wallowing, a knock at the door intrigued her enough to get up and see who was calling. Jeanie's cheeks were red with the crisp winter air as she held up a plate of awful-looking cookies and asked if Sarah would like some company.

So Sarah's Christmas wasn't horrible in the end, and as it turns out, when tiny flakes of snow decorate your windowsill and you're in the company of someone you love…even bad cookies aren't so bad.

Meanwhile, Jareth's Christmas in the Underground was beyond sad. For the first time in centuries, the Underground's seasonal weather had coincided with that of the Aboveground's, and every kingdom from the Great Chasm in the West to the seacoast in the East was celebrating merrily in the snow.

Jareth, however, had lodged himself in his throne room and was now sitting there, looking more pathetic every minute as he watched the Goblins run to and fro, draped with tinsel and stumbling over one another to get to the spiced ale. The whole labyrinth had been decorated in white, and everything seemed to be saturated in even more glitter than usual. Even as he was a bit surprised at the Goblins' ability to create such a scene without their King's magical assistance, the whole sight was making Jareth nauseous.

It had been over six months since Sarah had turned her back on him a second time, and now the rage and agony that had once plagued him had returned, and had brought their distant cousins, guilt and depression. He'd hardly moved from the throne room, and the Goblins had for the most part forgotten about him, for he had neither the energy nor the desire to torment them.

On this afternoon, he was still sitting on his throne, looking disheveled, his clothes wrinkled and his riding crop on the floor with his boots. His hair was flat and matted and his whole persona had acquired quite the odor about it. His eyes were glazed over as he stared at the wall without really seeing it.

"Your Highness?" said a voice next to him. Jareth turned his head slowly and looked at the winged messenger without interest. The creature was blue in color with stunning, gauzy, green wings and was hovering near Jareth's throne. Its long, lithe body was tense and Jareth placidly noticed a sense of urgent energy about it, as well as deep worry lines on its beautiful face.

The messenger continued, "My name is Nynx, I have been sent to inform you that your kingdom is in grave danger. A barbarian army from across the Great Chasm has taken advantage of the celebrating and intends to invade the Labyrinth. You must gather your army immediately to defend against them."

Jareth registered what Nynx was saying, but he could work up no emotion for the situation. The Labyrinth and the rest of his kingdom had come to mean little to him. He was no longer a King, and he no longer felt any responsibility for anything he once cared for.

In response to Jareth's silence, Nynx spoke again. "Your Highness? What are your orders? Sir?"

Jareth sighed and looked up at Nynx. "Let them come."