Chapter Six: You Cannot Quit Me So Quickly
First day back at school, it was very easy to pretend that life was normal. Sarah recognized the feeling; it was the same as the first day after solving the Labyrinth. Sure, the past few days had been weird, but that couldn't beat years and years of habit. The mere act of walking into school and sitting down just before the bell rang was familiar and steady enough to wash away all notions of uneasiness. The ugly brick walls of the classroom seemed thick enough to defend against any manner of ghoulie or ghostie, goblin or grandmother. Or Goblin King. She was protected.
She met her friends in the courtyard for lunch, as usual. They were eager to know about her trip.
"So?" asked Dinah. "How did it go?"
"Fine," Sarah replied noncommittally. Benjamin snorted.
"Sarah, you're an actress. Surely you can do better than that."
"It was good, okay? Jeremy is a cool guy, my mom was nice. It was fine."
"What did you do?" prompted Aaron.
Sarah sighed in defeat. "Alright. We saw The Phantom of the Opera, and it was really good. We sat around their apartment, which is beautiful and probably cost a fortune. Me and my mom went shopping, and she bought me a dress that did cost a fortune. I'll wear it to prom or something. They got married. We went to a fancy reception and I got to meet Jeremy's family. Um. I came home."
"What does the dress look like?" said Dinah immediately. The two guys groaned and Sarah grinned, beginning to warm to the subject.
"It's a full-fledged ball gown, and I don't mean any of that poofy pink school dance crap. Floor-length and slim, in dark gray silk. The skirt's done in tiers and it flares out slightly at the bottom. It's excellent."
"Did you wear it to the wedding, or party, or what?"
"The party. They just got a justice to do the ceremony, nothing big. Mom said that she's too old for all the pomp and circumstance at normal weddings. They made up for it at the reception, believe me."
"How'd you get along with his family?" Aaron looked curious. "You don't really talk to Karen's relatives, do you?"
"Nah. I've only seen her parents once or twice. But Jeremy's mom—wow. She's absolutely adorable to look at, but I think she probably rules the family with an iron fist. She treated me just like I was her real grandchild, not just the teenage daughter of her son's new wife." Sarah blinked, remembering. Then she grimaced comically. "Kinda scary, actually."
"More presents at Christmas," joked Dinah.
"Huh. Oh, and Dinah—my mom was wonderful the entire time. Take that."
"The honeymoon period. I know how these things work. Just you wait, it'll change any moment." The red-haired girl nodded sagaciously. Sarah quirked an eyebrow.
"She's my mom, not an abusive husband."
"Let's not start baiting each other," said Benjamin tolerantly. He looked at Aaron. "My friend, I believe we have news for the girls."
"News..? Oh, yes." Aaron recovered quickly, adopting a grandiloquent air. "Our band is now fully formed; you may worship at your leisure. We are now auditioning groupies. Please feel free to apply."
"Oh, really?" Dinah looked skeptical. "You decided on a name?"
"We have an excellent name," pronounced Ben.
"Oh?"
"Bennie and the Jets."
Sarah and Dinah exchanged glances. Then they burst out laughing. The two boys looked hurt.
"What is this? An Elton John cover band?" asked Sarah. Aaron shook his head.
"We're doing everything. Rolling Stones, Jimi Hendrix, Talking Heads, Pink Floyd, REM, Oasis... what else, Ben?"
"Er. Maybe some Metallica. And we're working on a few original songs, too."
The boys and Dinah launched into a conversation about their songwriting skills, or 'lack thereof' as Dinah derisively put it. Sarah glanced away and, by chance, saw an odd little shadow move at the base of the tree. Just out of the corner of her eye, she'd seen a flash of movement too large to be a bird or squirrel. At first she thought that she'd seen somebody throw something, but none of the other students moved to go pick it up. Maybe there's a cat and it went up the tree, or a crow. A big crow. She felt nervous all the sudden. She couldn't see anything in the branches. Worry began to knot her stomach.
"...maybe Goblin Market. Sarah?"
Somebody tapped on the girl's shoulder and she jerked away reflexively; shifting, she realized that it had been Aaron. He was staring at her, shaking his hand in the air.
"Geez, where'd that come from?" He asked wonderingly. "Yikes."
"What?" Her voice was confused.
"I just got a huge shock there. That's weird. I don't know why... well, whatever."
Sarah had an idea, but she wasn't about to share it with her friends. She hardly wanted to think about it herself. What could she say? Sorry, I'm being stalked by this, you know, Goblin King and he kinda gave me magic and when I get nervous it goes off by itself. Or something. Haven't quite got the hang of it yet. By the way, did you see something strange over by the tree just now?
Maybe it was just a freak accident. Maybe she had been rubbing against her backpack and built up an electric charge. Maybe. She took his hand and kissed the fingers lightly.
"Sorry. What were you guys talking about?" she said vaguely, trying to grasp the broken threads of conversation.
"Dinah thinks that Goblin Market would make a, and I quote, 'awesome' rock song," replied Ben in an 'isn't she so cute' tone. His girlfriend glared at him half-heartedly.
"Goblin Market?" she repeated, wary of coincidence.
"It's an old poem," explained Dinah. "Very cool. Ahem." She began to recite.
"Morning and evening,
Maids heard the goblins cry:
Come buy our orchard fruits,
come buy, come buy.
Apples and quinces,
Lemons and oranges,
Plump unpecked cherries-
Melons and raspberries,
Bloom-down-cheeked peaches
Swart-headed mulberries,
Wild free-born cranberries,
Crab-apples, dewberries,
Pine-apples, blackberries,
Apricots, strawberries--
All ripe together
In summer weather--"
She broke off there, shrugging.
"It's really long. I haven't memorized all of it. But you wouldn't have to use all of it in a song. It has a good plot. It could be, you know, folk-rock-y. Fairport Convention did an excellent version of Tam Lin."
Sarah opened her mouth to speak and closed it again, bereft of words. She reorganized her thoughts.
"Who wrote that?" Bloom-downed-cheek peaches?
"Christina Rossetti. Her brother was once of the Pre-Raphaelite artists."
"We'll consider it," said Aaron soothingly. "I don't think it's quite in our milieu."
"You don't have a milieu."
Eventually lunch came to an end, and they went their separate ways. Sarah didn't forget the poem, or the shadow, or the bolt of nervous energy that had struck her boyfriend. She was quieter than usual when Dinah drove her home, and happy for the solitude once she shut the house's door behind her. Her house, an old Victorian, was warm and silent and smelled of dust and aging wood. It seemed so safe in the afternoon sunlight. Unfortunately, that wasn't so true. She had first met Jareth there.
She dropped her bookbag in the kitchen and wandered upstairs to her room. She sat down on her bed, closed her eyes, and said, "Hoggle, I need you."
When she opened them, the dwarf was standing on the carpet in front of her.
"Hello, missy," he greeted her, gruff but pleased. "How was your trip?"
"It started off fine, but—oh!" Sarah pulled her hair in frustration. "Did I ever tell you who my mom was marrying? His name's Jeremy. Or Jeremiel, I should say. Jeremiel Dara."
"But that's, er," Hoggle stopped, his wrinkled face flooding with realization. "That's His Majesty's friend."
Sarah nodded. "Little did I know."
"Uh oh." Hoggle winced. "I think I see where this path leads. You ran into Jareth, didn't you?"
"Yep."
"How'd your mum end up marrying that kid? Never mind, don't matter. I guess I see how running into Jareth could spoil your week."
"That's just the beginning of it! One of Jeremy's nephews was being a real creep, and Jeremy's mom adopted me and thinks she can just marry me off! Now I'm a complete mess. I'm overreacting to completely innocent things, and jumping at shadows. I almost thought I saw a goblin at school today! How stupid is that?"
"'S probably nothing," Hoggle reassured her. "I know I get indigestion for days whenever I have to talk to His Majesty."
Sarah was forced to giggle slightly at that.
"I guess so. Sorry for dumping all my troubles on you. Thanks for listening, though, really. I've been keeping this all to myself. You're the only friend I can talk about Underground stuff with."
"Ain't no problem, missy," he said sheepishly. "Any break from work is a blessing. But I should get back about now, before anyone misses me."
"I'll talk to you later, then. Bye, Hoggle."
"Bye, Sarah." He slowly faded from sight. Sarah flopped backwards on the bed and stared at the ceiling. Downstairs, she could hear the sounds of Karen coming through the front door. As usual, she would drop Toby off and then head back to work. It saved on child care, not having him at preschool all day.
"Sarah!" she yelled, voice muffled by the door. "We're home! I have a meeting until 7:00, so you're on your own for dinner!"
"I'll be right there!" the girl called back. By the time she jogged into the family room, Karen was gone and Toby was sitting in front of the television.
"Hey, kiddo."
"Hi, Sarah."
"How was school?"
"Good. We got a little turtle now. I get to feed him on Tuesdays. Can we have McDonald's for dinner?"
Sarah blinked. "Um. Grilled cheese?"
"I don't want grilled cheese. We had that last week." Uh-oh. He was sounding sulky.
"Chef Boyardee? I think there's some ravioli." Personally, Sarah thought it looked gross. But if he was happy...
"No."
"Pancakes?"
"That's breakfast. I want McDonald's." She winced.
"I don't think Karen would like that."
"I want McDonald's."
It was a very long afternoon and evening. Toby was in a bad mood, she had too much homework, and dinner sucked. TV dinners were not very satisfying, but Sarah's culinary skills were limited. She went online after eating, looking up the poem that Dinah had mentioned at lunch. It told of a girl who ate goblin fruit and almost wasted away from want of it afterward; her sister saved her in the end. She read for a few hours. Then, at the last moment, she realized that she had a presentation in class the next day and had to dress up. She was forced to dig a clean dress shirt out of her drawers, iron it, then find her nice slacks, realize that they were scrunched up in the back of her closet, and iron them. It was past eleven when she finally got to bed; she fell asleep moments after she lay down.
Sarah didn't have time to remember what might be lurking in dreamland. When she found herself in a familiar haziness, she groaned in dismay.
"Why can't I just sleep?" she moaned, looking back and forth for something familiar. She wasn't anywhere near the throne room, as far as she could tell; there were no throne-blobs or even Jareth-blobs. Though, on second thought, I do have a few questions for His Snootiness. Sarah allowed herself to emerge a little further into the other world, her sight becoming clearer as she moved forward. The fog solidified into a nicely trimmed lawn, surrounded on all sides by a hedge. A fountain bubbled in the center and a cobblestone pathway looped around it and behind one bush. The towers of the castle loomed close-by.
"Jareth. I know you're here." She sat down on the grass, resigned. The sun was bright overhead; she could feel the rays ever-so-faintly. It was disturbing.
"What a pleasant surprise. I thought you'd snub me." He materialized in front of the fountain and sat down on the edge. It was larger than she had realized. A stone woman in a goblin mask was holding up a large shell or something, from which water trickled out. It fit the landscape.
"I almost did," she said wearily in reply. "But I want to get this over with and go back to sleep. Did you want anything in particular?"
He pursed his lips, looking amused. "I don't know where to begin."
"Okay, I'll start. Can you think of any reason why I might have seen a goblin sneak behind a tree at school today?"
"It was in search of higher education?"
"I am not in the mood for this."
"I thought it might be beneficial to have someone watching you."
"Beneficial! To who? Not me."
"Definitely to you. After you so unwisely declined my tutelage, I wanted to make sure you didn't suffer any... accidents."
Sarah raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Accidents?"
"Beginners can do awful things when left uninstructed, you know. Completely unintentionally. Didn't your step-father tell you how we met?"
"That was different. He had a teacher. He was just really bad."
"The principle is the same. He didn't know what he was doing, he did something stupid."
"I'm sure this was entirely out of the kindness of your heart, then," she retorted sarcastically.
"Of course." The smile he gave her would have looked innocent on any other man. "I'm glad we understand each other."
Which told her nothing. Was he acknowledging that his reply was total bullshit, or just agreeing and being a pain about it? She fought the urge to scream and gnash her teeth.
"Who were your lovely young companions today?" he asked nonchalantly, examining the embroidery on the hem of his jacket. Sarah eyed him distrustfully.
"My best friend, Dinah. Her boyfriend. My boyfriend."
"Your boyfriend? How precious." He spoke in the same pleasant, even voice. "What's his name?"
"None of your business," she said tightly. "Do you know the poem Goblin Market?" The change in topic got his attention. He looked up at her.
"I'm familiar with it. The poet had an unfortunate run in with some of my subjects, once upon a time." He smiled again. "I think that you might sympathize with parts of it. The fruit of the goblin orchards can have very strange effects, sometimes." His eyes were hard, despite his calm expression. Sarah, still sitting on the ground, wrapped her arms around her legs. Of all the memories she had of the Labyrinth, he had touched on the ones that hurt the most. He knew it, too.
"I hate you," she whispered from behind her knees. He shrugged and brushed cornsilk hair back from his forehead.
"Why is that, do you think?"
The silence held for a very long time.
"I don't want to talk about it," she whispered, even more softly.
"Personally, I don't think that you really hate me." This arrogant declaration bolstered her spirits somewhat.
"And why is that?" she asked belligerently.
"Because you've stayed here and talked to me for some ten minutes now. Having said that, I'll save you the trouble of storming out." He grinned merrily and disappeared from sight. Sarah stood hastily and looked around, but she was well and truly alone.
"You bastard," she said to the fountain. It continued to burble happily. Her curse was only half-hearted; she didn't believe that the Goblin King was in hearing range. The spot was really very pleasant, and she was tempted to sit down again and bask in the sun. Instead, she floated back through the layers of mist until she awoke. Then she fell asleep for real.
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Somewhere in distant memory, Sarah remembered being told that trouble comes in threes. That week, she began to wonder if the saying was more than superstition. First was the goblin-sighting and the tête-á-tête with Jareth; the next day, she overslept, forgot her presentation poster at home, apologized profusely to her government teacher, begged a ride from Dinah during lunch period, and presented the project alone, after school, to her teacher. It was hard to decide which experience was more unpleasant.
The next day, Sarah came home as usual and started to flop down on her bed as usual. She would have taken a nap if something different hadn't caught her eye.
There was something sitting on the top of her vanity, just in front of her jewelry box. She stood and crept closer; it was a neatly folded piece of paper, sealed with a blot of green wax. A design had been pressed into the wax, three leaves arranged in a triangle. It wasn't a familiar sigil. Sarah picked up the paper, which was heavy and cream-colored, and broke the seal with one finger. She made a face as she unfolded it.
"I'm sure I don't want to read this," the girl muttered out loud. Reluctant, she began to read the lines of elegant script.
My Dear Sarah:
My son informed me, under some duress, that he had told you about our family's true nature.
"Nooo," she whined, stamping her foot. "Not a good start."
So I decided to be frank with you. Our people rarely marry humans but it does sometimes happen, especially when they dwell Aboveground like Jeremiel. Even more rarely do the marriage partners already have children of their own. You must understand that this puts you, and me, in an odd position. I understand that you live in your father's home, which is proper. However, that does not cancel out the relationship you now bear to my own House. As of now, you are my only grandchild by my younger son. I took quite a fancy to you when we met; I love my grandchildren, but all but Callista and Gabriel are very spoiled and ill-mannered.
So I have a proposition for you. Jeremy says you have no outstanding contracts or obligations with other families, so I would like to introduce you to Underground society myself. I and my husband are ambassadors in the service of Her Highness, Princess Eseld of Cadfian. We are posted at the court of the King of Idunn, a major kingdom in the north, where many of the finest Houses dwell. Human alliances are rare with our people, as I said before, but there has been many a family that wished to strengthen its stock with the blood of Men. My Lady Eseld is always looking for profitable alliances between her vassals and other kingdoms; between her influence and your own beauty, I believe that I could do quite well for you.
I am aware of your misgivings on this topic, but I do not think that you understand the wonderful chance you have been given. The Aboveground is a harsh, unpleasant place. I myself detest it. Even if you are not open to a betrothal immediately, I do hope that you come to visit us for a time. I have enclosed a token that will bring you to our home in Idunn. The court convenes again in six weeks. Please, do come any time between now and then. If you do not arrive by the middle of next month, I will send a servant to fetch you.
Sincerely yours,
Lady Angharad Dara, Royal Emissary of Cadfian
Sarah stood in front of her vanity, mouth slightly open, for several minutes. Then she reread the letter to make sure she had understood. When she was certain, she placed the paper carefully back on the tabletop. A small silver disk slid off of it and clinked onto the wood. It was engraved with the same leafy design.
"Shit," she breathed. Despite all appearances, Sarah was not a casual swearer. She only cursed in extreme situations. Right then, she decided, was an extreme situation if she ever saw one. "Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!" She covered her eyes with her hands. "Oh, crap. If I don't come, someone will come and fetch me! What did I do to deserve this?"
Sarah grabbed the offending piece of paper and threw it into the metal wastebasket on the floor next to the vanity. That made her feel better. She glared furiously at the half-full wastebasket.
The contents burst merrily into flames.
Sarah shrieked. Without thinking, she grabbed the outer case, barreled through her bedroom door, and ran down the hall into the bathroom. She threw the flaming trash can into the shower and turned the faucet on full blast, letting the cold spray douse the fire. She watched, breathing heavily. The flames subsided quickly, leaving only a soggy black mess oozing from the wastebasket. The plastic trash bag lay partially melted on top of it. Sarah slumped down onto the toilet and tried not to cry.
Of course, Karen picked that moment to come driving up to the house. The teenager could hear car doors slam from out front, followed by the front door opening.
"Dropping Toby off!" called Karen. "See you later!"
Sarah couldn't quite summon the voice to respond to her, but her stepmother left again without waiting for a reply. She sniffed loudly, swiped at her eyes, and scooped the ashy mess back into the trash can. She dumped the contents into the bathroom trash bag and let the shower run a little longer to wash away the black stain. Then she replaced her wastebasket in her room and walked shakily downstairs. She found Toby talking on the phone to someone.
"Toby? Whatcha doing?" she asked. She hadn't noticed the phone ringing.
"It's Aaron," he told her. Then, into the phone, "Here she is." He handed it to her.
"Hey, Aaron," Sarah said dully into the receiver.
"What's wrong, babe?" He sounded far too happy. Sarah sighed.
"Nothing. Just—it's a long story. Nevermind. What's up?"
"I was going to ask if you wanted to go get some pizza tonight. Unless you're babysitting?"
"No, Karen and Dad should be home for dinner. But I, um, have lots of homework to do. I don't feel so well either." In fact, I think I may go kill myself now. Before I burn down the house and get kidnapped by elves. "Maybe this weekend."
"Sure. Sure. No problem." Did he sound slightly hurt? Sarah was too troubled to care.
"Bye then."
"Bye."
She hung up. She could here the sound of cartoons from the family room again, so Toby was safely occupied. Sarah let her head sink down onto the kitchen counter and covered her face with her arms. Tear leaked slowly out of her eyes to pool onto the cool granite.
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That's all for now. Writer from Rivendell, onesmallmunchkin, Redhead Ruth, Aowyn, draegon-fire, Reverie919, Kathleen Jackson, Velf, Lovely Doom, kathleen, and apsara—thanks so much for taking the time to review. It means a lot to me (and definitely provides motivation to write more quickly). :-)