Chapter Nine: Underground
Years and years had passed since Sarah had last been sent to her room. Adding insult to injury, she supposed. She was so tired of being angry. It took far too much energy to keep up perpetually.
She threw herself onto the bed, back first, sinking in instead of bouncing. Feather mattress, she thought. Very nice. The girl turned her head to look out the window. The sky was blue and clouds were floating by lazily. It would have felt like any normal spring Saturday if it weren't for the stone room, the archaic clothing, and the giant maze outside. And the discontent roiling in her stomach. Jareth, intentionally or not, had hit her where it hurt; the tears she had smothered rose again, trickling slowly down her cheeks.
They will care, she assured herself. Dad and Toby and even Karen. Maybe, after awhile, they'll call Mom and Jeremy too. Surely even Mom would care, if I suddenly disappeared. I mean, we're getting along better. She hasn't called or anything since I left New York, but they were going to go on a honeymoon. Probably she would have called in a week or two. Except that she wouldn't be there to get any call, now. Oh, who was she kidding. Linda wasn't going to call her for months, if then. But she would still care...
Why did the Goblin King have the power to make her doubt herself like this? Why did it ever matter what he said?
Why can't he just be an agreeable person for once? Is it really that hard? Sure, she had started the yelling, but he was the one who kidnapped her. Of course, I asked for help. But she wouldn't have needed help if he hadn't saddled her with magic in the first place. Which still went unexplained. And he stole Toby, which was definitely not a nice thing to do. Though I did ask him to. But I didn't mean it. I didn't know it would work. He didn't have to tease her and... and... torture her and humiliate her while she was running the Labyrinth. He didn't have to send the Cleaners after her, or give Hoggle the poisoned peach. It really wasn't necessary to stick her in that stupid, embarrassing, cruel dream. And at the end, he didn't have to offer her... everything. And she wouldn't have felt tempted, just... for... a... moment...
Sarah flipped over and buried her face in the pillows, concentrating on the smoothness of the fabric against her burning face.
"Shut up, shut up, shut up!" she whispered fiercely, squeezing her eyes closed. How uncomfortable, that he should know to offer just what she would want. Uncomfortable that sometimes she felt a twinge of regret when she thought of the End. Most uncomfortable because she knew that he knew that at one time... she wanted him and what he had to give. Like your worst enemy from school finding out that you once had a crush on him. Except worse, because Jareth was no middle school bully.
This was the problem. Try as she might, she couldn't get around it.
Sarah might have fallen asleep, or perhaps she was just lost in thought. She was certainly jarred out of any trance-like state by a swift knock on her door. After sliding off the bed blearily, she walked to the door and cracked it open. An unfamiliar goblin, bigger than most, was holding a tray awkwardly.
"Food!" it squawked, holding up towards Sarah. The girl grabbed it out of its unsteady hands and nodded her head.
"Thanks," she said uncertainly. It bobbed up and down and then scampered away quickly. Odd creatures, goblins. Sarah couldn't remember them being this twitchy last time. The door swung shut with a nudge of her hip; she set the tray down on her spindly table.
A folded piece of parchment lay on top of a covered dish. Sarah made a sour noise and unfolded it. There was one spidery word written across it.
"Truce."
Huh. Right.
She uncovered the dish and smiled slightly. A slice of meat and a slice of cheese had been placed between two hunks of brown bread, with a bit of lettuce stuck in for good measure. Ugly but recognizable. A sandwich assembled by someone who had never seen one before; the Goblin King must have told his cook what to make. Well. He was trying; Sarah guessed that this was as much of an apology as she would ever get. Maybe he was tired of being angry all the time too.
The sandwich was accompanied by a bowl of savory vegetable soup and a mug of apple cider. The scent wafted across the girl's face and all the sudden she was ravenous. She realized that she hadn't eaten more than two apples in who-knows-how-long—maybe that empty feeling in her stomach was more than just ill temper.
Food helped. Food definitely helped. By the time Sarah finished, her head was clearer and steadier. I can deal with this. I can deal with this. So I'm in the Labyrinth. Well. I've been here before.
Sarah was gazing out of the window, composed, when she next heard a knock on her door. The dressmaker, she guessed, vaguely picturing a warty green goblin woman, perhaps with a kerchief over her head. She opened the door less hesitantly this time, and nearly jumped out of her skin when she got a look at the person standing in front of her.
"Ma'am?" asked the person anxiously. Sarah blinked.
It was a girl, maybe her own age, with an honest face and a sprinkling of freckles across her upturned nose. Her hair was a nut brown profusion of curls and her eyes were a deep green. She smiled at Sarah softly, a little unsure, but genuinely. The girl held a covered basket.
"I'm Meggedy," she announced brightly. "I've come to measure you for clothes." She paused a beat. "I'm loaning you a dress for now, too."
"Oh!" exclaimed Sarah weakly. "Yes, thank you, I hope you don't mind... and it's Sarah, not ma'am. Um. Come in."
Sarah stepped aside hastily and closed the door behind Meggedy. The girl set her basket down on a chair and started searching through it.
"Sarah, then. It's no bother," she said as she rummaged. "I'm not about to refuse His Majesty anything, as it is. He takes so little notice of us that we're frightened half out of our wits when he shows his face in the Otherwood."
"I'm sorry, I don't follow," Sarah replied. Meggedy extracted a length of brown string from the basket and brandished it triumphantly.
"Which part?"
"The Otherwood?"
"It's where I live, me and the other foundlings. And Addie Otherwood. Come over here if you don't mind, so I can start. Lift up your arms, please."
Meggedy wrapped the string around Sarah's waist, unwrapped it, and made a knot where the ends had met. Then she moved on to the other measurements, leaving Sarah feeling more than a little foolish.
"Who are the foundlings?" asked Sarah. Meggedy spoke as she worked.
"We're the children who got left, or at least the recent ones. We tend to wander off when we grow up, either to other parts of the kingdom or to other kingdoms entirely. Me, I'd rather stay here. It's home."
"You're..." Sarah thought this through. "You're one of the children who've been wished away?"
"Exactly."
"But I thought that Jareth turned them into goblins!"
"Certainly not." Meggedy looked scandalized, eyebrows raised high. "They multiply like rats on their own. Don't need any help from His Majesty. There, done."
Sarah let her arms flop back down to her sides, bewildered all over again.
"So you're human?" she said timidly. Meggedy grinned and lifted her skirts slightly.
" Mum was human, but my Da sure wasn't." Sarah looked down and swallowed a gasp when she saw cloven hooves peeping from under the hem of the other girl's skirt. "Mum wished me away when I couldn't pass. Or at least that's what Addie told me. I was just a babe when I came here. Guess they don't have my kind up in the Aboveground."
"No, not generally," said Sarah. She watched as the other girl lifted more supplies out of the basket. "What's that?"
"I'm going to measure you for shoes too," she explained. Sarah shifted in the flip-flops she was currently wearing, a wry expression on her face. "You'll need slippers, and perhaps a pair of boots. Here, slip off those things and stick out a foot."
Sarah complied, still vaguely uncomfortable. She was used to picking clothes and shoes out of department stores, not having people making things to order. This was a little too close to servitude for her middle-class American sensibilities.
"I suppose you came here without much of your own," commented the foundling obliquely. "His Majesty told us to hurry, so everything should be done in a few days. I can lend you more clothes until then, if you don't mind such plain things." She looked at Sarah a but sideways, a thoughtful but guarded look. "They may not be fitting to your station."
"If I have a station, I'm not aware of it." Sarah's voice was dry.
"Well, we're all a bit confused," spoke Meggedy hurriedly, not meeting Sarah's eyes. "We're not sure what to think because, well, His Majesty never brings his, you know, back here, not since I've been around..."
"I'm not his mistress!" exclaimed Sarah, startled, face flushing crimson. The foundling girl's mouth formed an 'o', her skin turning red in mortification as well.
"That's not—I mean—I didn't mean it!" she protested. "I just didn't know—Oh, please, don't be offended. It's just that you appeared so suddenly. Why, if it didn't sound half-mad, we would have thought you eloped together. He's taken such notice of you. He doesn't take much notice of anyone." She halted as Sarah's face turned even redder.
"No," she replied in a strangled voice. "There is nothing like that between me and Jareth."
"...you do speak of him very familiarly."
"I think I've earned it, after beating his stupid game."
Meggedy stiffened, dropped Sarah's foot, and stood up again. She studied her face very closely before drawing in a deep breath.
"Then you're that Sarah!" Her voice was soft with awe. "You're the human that solved the Labyrinth.
"I'm afraid so."
"That explains a lot... I think." The foundling bit her lower lip thoughtfully, brows drawing together. "Or maybe not. I have to tell Addie when I get back. She'll want to know." Then, shyly, "Why are you back?"
Sarah considered the possible answers, weighing the pros and cons of each. She decided on the diplomatic route.
"I'm Jareth's apprentice," she said simply. It was true enough.
"Apprentice," the other girl repeated in a whisper. "Addie will definitely want to know. I'll run back home now, since I'm done measuring. I'll bring your things when they're ready. But, oh, I almost forgot." She bent over her basket again, bringing out a neatly tied parcel. "Here—clothes for tomorrow, underthings, and night clothes. That should do until you have your own wardrobe."
Sarah took it from her, feeling guilty. "I don't want to be a burden," she said.
"Not at all! We're given wages for our work, but you've also given me the best piece of gossip that the kingdom's seen since... since..." Meggedy waved her arms expansively in the air. "Since you were last here! But I should go now. Good day, then." She curtsied swiftly, picked up her much lighter basket, and went barreling out the door. Sarah was left behind in the once-again silent room, which seemed much emptier now that it was rid of Meggedy's boisterous presence. She and Dinah could have been sisters, not counting the foundling's satyr legs. She wondered whether or not there were horns hidden in Meggedy's mass of hair.
Lunch, check. Fitting, check. Next order of business: another lesson with Jareth. Or so he said. Until then... Sarah could sit back and twiddle her thumbs.
"Surely this place has a swimming pool somewhere," she muttered to herself to fill the quiet. "Or an arcade. Maybe a karaoke bar."
But probably not. She sighed. She flopped back onto the bed. She stared at the ceiling. She cataloged the furniture in the room: the canopied bed, the couch, the small table, the two chairs. A wardrobe. Did a fireplace count as furniture? Sarah didn't think so. There was also a chest at the foot of the bed.
She got up, walked down to the odd bathroom, used the facilities and marveled at the odd fixtures. She caught a glimpse of herself in the foggy mirror and stopped to look more closely. A thin girl stared back at her, average height, with dark hair slipping out of a ponytail. Her eyes were tired and her face pale, where it floated above her green gown. With her flip-flops hidden under her skirt, she looked entirely at home in this setting. Strange, that it took little more than a length of cloth to remove her from herself. Isn't that what she had tried to do so often in her youth, donning a white dress to turn into a princess? Sarah wasn't quite resemble a princess now—more like a chambermaid. Now, the change wasn't so welcome. She had only just settled into life as a normal person. A normal Abovegrounder.
Maybe, at least a little bit, that was what was bothering her so much. It had taken so much effort to throw away her childhood daydreams and conform. Then along came the Goblin King, with all his cryptic pronouncements, turning her world upside down again. The thought plagued her.
How can I learn to be happy in the real world if keeps throwing... this... into my face?
Sarah fled from the mirror, climbing back up the stairs. She was feeling defiant. If she was going to be held here, she decided, she wasn't going to let Jareth dictate her life. Sarah was bored. She was going to go look for him. Might as well get it over with.
Down the hallway, turn, down the next one too. There was the luminous stained glass window splashing the stairs with color; she walked past it quickly, striding purposefully toward her destination. Here was the corridor that held Jareth's study. She could remember the door without a crystal's help.
Feeling particularly courageous, she pushed the door open without knocking. Jareth was there as she had hoped, chair tilted back and feet on desk, writing something and looking harried. His head rose when he heard Sarah come in.
"Teach me," she said abruptly. He narrowed his eyes at her distrustfully.
"What brought about this change in attitude?"
"You're not the boss of me. You can't just send me to my room. I have absolutely nothing to do. So teach me. Isn't that the point?"
"You are are a contrary creature," he said after a pause, eyes still narrowed. "I do have other work to do."
"Can it wait?"
They looked at each other across the table. Sarah didn't let her eyes waver, even under his measuring gaze. He stood up and put the papers down.
"No doubt," he replied. "But if the marsh lights stage an uprising against the swamp trolls, I am putting you in charge of arbitrating the squabble."
"What would make marsh lights angry?"
"The trolls capture them in jars and use them as lights at night. I'm sure it's not a pleasant experience. The trolls smell absolutely awful."
This was said in a glib, deadpan tone, but Sarah thought she could pick out a thread of humor in his voice, and in the quirk of an eyebrow. She released tension she didn't know she was holding.
"So how do I form a crystal? I want to get back to reality as soon as possible."
"This place is just as real as your home is," Jareth said with a furrowing of his brow. "But I won't mar your rare good mood by contradicting you. To form a crystal, you must do a few things."
He stretched out a hand and a round crystal formed in his palm. He threw it lightly in the air, where it became a butterfly, flew to the ceiling, and collapsed into a cloud of glitter. Sarah tried to hide her interest as she watched it.."They usually have to contain a spell, but that is more complicated. Right now, I'll just show you how to make an empty one."
He formed another crystal and walked across the room to Sarah.
"Hold out your hand," he commanded. She stretched out her right arm hesitantly and he dumped the crystal onto her palm. She jumped slightly but didn't drop it. Sarah looked at it uneasily.
"It's not going to bite," Jareth said chidingly. "This one's empty. Roll it around, toss it in the air, whatever. Familiarize yourself with it, so you can remember what they feel like."
It was heavier than she had expected, as if made of glass, but not uncomfortably so. The surface was cool where it rested against her skin, and smooth. She held it closer to her face and looked inside. It wasn't transparent. There was shimmering trapped inside. Sarah passed it to her left hand and then back.
"Alright," she said. "Now what?"
"Now what, she says," he repeated with a shake of his head. "Fine. Put it in your left hand and hold out your right again. You are right-handed, correct?"
"Yes." She moved the crystal.
"Then just imagine that you're holding one in your right hand."
"What?" asked the girl incredulously. "That's all?"
"It's harder than it seems. I'd suggest closing your eyes for now; sight confuses things. Don't try to tap into your magic. Just think of the feeling of the crystal in your hand."
Sarah closed her eyes and flexed the fingers of her left hand around the crystal. She tried to remember the weight and heft of it in her right hand, imagine the cool surface on her right palm instead of her left. She thought about it until her skin itched, but when she hoped her eyes nothing had happened.
"I can't do it," Sarah said, disappointed and a little affronted. Jareth shook his head.
"You're trying to hard, Sarah. Relax. Just expect it to be there."
She did a mental sigh and closed her eyes again. Breathe in, breathe out. Ohm, she thought, smiling to herself. Alright. I am holding a crystal in my hand. It is heavier than it looks. Like a glass ball. It fits snugly in my palm and is full of shimmering possibility. She pictured herself twirled it around in her hand like Jareth, or throwing it into the air and seeing sparkles shower downward. Jerking her hand slightly upward, she made an involuntary noise when something shifted. Sarah opened her eyes quickly and looked down.
There was definitely something in her hand. It could hardly be called a crystal, though. She groaned.
"My god," she said in disgust. "It's horrible."
Jareth peered down at it speculatively. "It's progress. You can't expect to do everything perfectly on the first try."
The thing resting in her hand was smooth but cloudy, as if it had been smudged by many dirty fingers. It was almost the right size, but the surface collapsed inward in some spots, leaving it dimpled. Sarah poked it with one finger and the side pushed in further. It had the consistency of warm plastic, solid but flexible. She could have squashed it flat with one hand.
She set both crystals, Jareth's and her own, down on the desk.
"It's promising," commented the Goblin King, surveying it with his hands on his hips. Sarah snorted. His lips twitched slightly.
"Don't you dare laugh at me!" she warned.
"I'm not laughing, I swear." He held his hands up in a conciliatory gesture. "Why don't you try again?"
She did. She tried and tried again, each one more of less a variation of the first one. Once the crystal had the right shine to it, but it was even thinner-skinned than her first one. Another one was hard and smooth, but it was as delicate as an eggshell. Jareth had her sit down in one of the chairs after the fifth attempt, while he watched from behind his desk. An hour later, he was leaning against one propped up arm and Sarah had slid halfway down in her chair.
"This is still not working," the girl proclaimed after the tenth failure. She threw it down onto the desk, where the other nine sat besides Jareth's perfect crystal. She glowered at it half-heartedly, too tired and hungry to do more. This stuff was harder than it looked.
"You've been doing this for, what, an hour or two? It takes most children of the Fair Folk days to summon power on their command. You've been doing it effortlessly."
"If only it would do what I tell it to," she replied dourly, ignoring the compliment implied.
"Not a perfectionist," muttered the king under his breath. She glared at him.
"I'm not a perfectionist. I just want to figure this out so I can go home."
"So you've said. Unfortunately, it will have to wait for another day. I declare this session ended."
Sarah pushed herself back up with the arms of the chair, swiftly. "What? Just let me do a few more."
"Definitely not. You have to build up your endurance with magic, just like running long distances. I don't want you to wear yourself out the first day." His eyes strayed down to the row of crystals. "Take the one I made back up to your room with you. Just hold it, look at it, study it until tomorrow. You have to know something very well before you can conjure it, at least at your skill level."
Sarah wanted to argue, really she did, but it seemed like far too much trouble. A nap on her feather mattress sounded very tempting. She sighed noisily, as if to let Jareth know that she was caving in against her will, and stood slowly.
"Do I really need to be confined to my room?" she asked doubtfully. Jareth thought a moment.
"No, not as long as you don't do anything stupid. Don't leave the castle, don't enter the Labyrinth. Don't get yourself lost. There is a courtyard garden within the castle itself; you can go there, if you can find the way yourself." He glanced at the clock sitting on one of the bookshelves. It was 4 o'clock, though Sarah wasn't exactly sure what that meant in a 26-hour long day. "Dinner is usually served at 7 o'clock. If you are still feeling amiable then, you can come back down here. If not..." He smiled. "Maybe you'll get lucky and find the kitchen."
"I can feel my amiability slipping away this very moment," she said, crossing her arms over her chest. "You mean, I can eat with you or not at all? What is this, Beauty and the Beast? Is there a talking tea pot around here somewhere?"
Jareth had an amused expression affixed on his face. "Sarcasm doesn't become you, Sarah."
"I can get a lot more unpleasant than this, I promise."
"I know. How about this deal, then: when I am teaching you, we will both make an effort to be friendly and sociable people. That describes neither of us, I think, but we will try. Outside of this room, you can abuse me as you want. Alright?"
Sarah considered this a moment. It seemed fair enough.
"Alright."
"You can go, then. Enjoy your afternoon and don't get into trouble."
Sarah grabbed the single good crystal from the desk and froze a moment.
"My parents will notice I'm gone. They won't just forget about me," she said soberly.
"...no, they won't," he agreed slowly, almost reluctantly. "You're not an easy person to forget."
She nodded her head sharply, accepting this almost-apology. On a bizarre impulse, she stuck her tongue out at him. Then she swept out the door with as much dignity in her posture as she could manage. Her footsteps took her back up to her room, where she could here the bed call her name. Exploration could wait until later.
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A/N: Another one ended. Since it's a three-day weekend and I know where the next chapter is going, there might be another one out on Monday or Tuesday. But I also have to write a paper on Tess of the D'Urbervilles, so we'll see. Anyways, thank you to Velf, Acantha Mardivey, tellergirl, Moonjava, Amazonian21, draegon-fire, musicgirl141, Kathleen, Alissa7, tabbicat 12, Bex Drake, and Anon. To answer your question, Alissa7: yeah, Jeremy had a lot of trouble, but he's kind of like the one tone-deaf kid in a family of musicians. It's not that he just had a hard time learning magic, but he had pretty much no aptitude for it at all. That's the reason that he went to the Aboveground instead of staying home; he doesn't feel so much like a loser in the human world. ;-) I don't want Sarah to have a very easy time learning magic, but she definitely has more power and talent than he has, thanks to Jareth's gift. Hopefully that explanation helps.