Author's Notes: I can't tell you how amazed I am that the hits on this story have climbed over 6000. I don't deny it's getting more difficult to write as we near the end, but the unexpectedly warm reception each chapter receives makes it worthwhile. All the comments have been immensely cheering as I continue to pound out the rest.
This chapter is a bit of a monster in terms of length, and it's like the next few will be the same.
Chapter Thirteen: Blood and Water
Jareth awoke just after dawn, when the light stole across his pallet all pearly gold and gray. He rose quietly, being careful not to wake Sarah, still asleep on the bed in the corner. A cursory check of his body showed that his quick healing ability was not entirely gone-- the minor cuts and scratches were nearly well, and the pain and heat in his side had eased considerably. His first shaky steps reminded him that he wasn't entirely recovered, but it was still far better than he'd dared to hope. Food and rest, he thought, his mouth twisting mirthlessly. How easily remedied some things are.
Pulling on a light wool cloak, he paused to glance at the sleeping girl. Sarah was curled like a sleeping cat, one arm beneath her pillow and lashes dark against her pale cheek, her breathing was deep and steady. If he were fortunate, she would sleep for hours yet, and he allowed himself a few more stolen moments standing by her bedside. The night before, it had been difficult enough to bear the touch of her fingers upon his. More than anything, he'd wanted to seize her slender hand, feel the cool skin of her palm against his flesh. He hadn't allowed her to apply the herbal salve to his back, fearing what he might do. Even now, he knew he shouldn't do this, shouldn't stand here simply to be near her when she was unaware of his presence. And yet he found himself rooted to the ground, unwilling to move.
Her white shirt was something he'd often worn to bed, silk lighter than a whisper and yet so sensuous he was aware of every movement. Now it lay warm and close against her bare skin, the thin material softly enfolding her body like the petals of a morning glory. The thought made him burn, a slow fire kindling within like the glowing coals of a forge. One breath, one word from her... and the flames would leap up and devour him.
At last, he couldn't help himself. Jareth knelt down and touched a stray lock of her hair spread across the pillow, bringing it softly to his lips. It was like silk, with a fragrance that intoxicated his senses: wood violets and spearmint, mingled with a scent that was uniquely hers...
He let the lock fall, whirling angrily and stalking to the door, refusing to look back. I am a fool.
Mist rose off the waters, undeterred by the shafts of pale golden light that pierced through the cover of the trees. The sun was not yet high, there was still time. The Goblin King stood at the edge of the pool, trying not to think of how he'd stood in the very same spot many years before. Same rosy dawn-light, same mists, and the same water with a surface like glass, beckoning him closer. For all its modest size, the pool was deep, deeper in its center than anyone had ever tested. Jareth thought it might run to the very deepest caverns in the earth, leagues underground where no light ever came. Its depths might be as dark as what haunted his dreams, only this time he hoped for a different answer.
He pulled off his gloves. In one hand, he clutched a small letter-knife he'd taken from the desk. Only a few inches long, it was sharp enough for this purpose, he would not hesitate in making the cut. He went down one one knee at the water's edge and held the blade over the water, both arms outstretched.
"Living waters of a dying land," he called softly, "Accept my sacrifice, grant me a vision true."
With a swift stroke, he drew the blade down in a broad cut across his left palm, clenching it into a fist over the water. A drop of blood quickly beaded and fell, then another, and another. They drifted in the clear waters of the pool like scarlet tendrils of smoke, and slowly, the reflection began to ripple and change.
Image after image shimmered on the surface of the water, gradually at first, then faster. With each one, the Goblin King grew colder with dread. All knew that the waters of the Merandanon were powerful, but nowhere was their power greater than here in the Silverwood. It had shown him visions of all-consuming fire, the earth splitting open into a gaping maw which swallowed the Labyrinth whole. He'd seen a countryside sheathed in ice and eternal winter, his castle razed to the ground until rock became sand, sifting through a sea of skulls... And in each vision, a dark-haired girl with eyes like forest leaves held the destruction of his world in the palm of her white hand.
"You mock me," he said hoarsely. "You show me lies and half-truths, you tempt me with what is and what might be."
His only answer was the faint rush of the waterfall. Jareth got to his feet, feeling as if a great weight had settled across his shoulders. He had his answer, but it was one he did not like.
Ludo groaned and the castle walls trembled. The heat was harder on him than anyone else, despite Sir Didymus commandeering a team of goblins to fan him night and day. Hoggle had even more cause to be grateful for the little knight's leadership skills, for it had taken all his talents just to transport the poor beast from his cave to the castle. A small army of goblins, hitched to a sledge and dragging Ludo down from the mountains, with Didymus riding proudly at the vanguard... It was enough to make even the Goblin King laugh, had he been here to witness it.
"Another one like that and the whole castle will come down." said Hoggle, worriedly looking around at the chamber walls. "Although I can't say as I blame him, exactly."
Each day had been hotter than the last, and today the heat was all the more oppressive. Smoke and soot from the brushfire hung still heavy in the air, a thick miasma that choked one's breath and stung the eyes. It was so hot that everyone wore as little as possible while remaining decent, except for Sir Didymus who refused to give up his full uniform. Even the goblins were particularly fractious today, and numerous brawls and street-fights had started even before dawn. It was as if some new dread lay just over the horizon, and everyone's nerves were frayed to the last thread.
"My brother suffers," said Sir Didymus sadly. "Alas, nothing can be done until the water patrols return."
In his wisdom, Didymus had sought to make use of the goblin's extra energy and new-found spare time by sending them far and wide on patrols to locate new water sources. Initial reports were not promising. The heat had dried up lakes and ponds all over the castle grounds and rations were tight. Both Didymus and Hoggle had given Ludo as much of their shares as they could, but he was still feverish and wasting.
"Have you had any news of my lady?"
Hoggle shook his head. "Nothing. But it can't be going well if things are doing this badly here."
"I fear you are right, my friend. But we must have hope."
"Didymus," said Hoggle hesitantly, "Do you really think she can save us?"
Perched near Ludo's head and cooling his brow with a wet cloth, Sir Didymus looked up.
"Of course." he said simply.
"I wish I had your confidence. I still think we shouldn't have let her go alone."
"My friend," said the little knight, "You have the heart of a lion, and while I am never one to refuse a noble quest, this is one my lady must endure alone. Only she has the heart for the deed that must be done, and no other."
"I don't doubt her courage,' retorted Hoggle, "But it may take more than a thousand brave hearts to get us out of this mess."
Didymus cocked his head. "No," he said with a thoughtful smile. "Only one."
Hoggle gave his friend a sharp look. "Didymus," he said irritably, "Sometimes I think you know a lot more than you let on."
"What are you doing?"
The Goblin King froze in the act of tugging his gloves back on, but forced himself to turn around slowly. Sarah had thrown her cloak over her shoulders and now stood on the grass behind him. Barefoot, and with her hair still undone, she looked even younger than her years.
"And good morning to you, Sarah." he said smoothly, the letter-knife vanishing up his sleeve. "I trust you slept well?"
"I did." she said uncertainly. "But I'm surprised to see you up so early."
"I felt the need for a breath of air." He walked past her, barely brushing her. "But I do believe it has wearied me."
But Sarah wouldn't let him go so easily. Even without looking behind him, he knew she had that intractable glint her eye.
"I saw you kneeling by the water." she said to his retreating back. "I thought you said it was dangerous to go near it."
"It is." he said curtly. "For you."
"I don't believe you. I've been in the river plenty of times since I left the castle, Rumor and I had to wade through it to get through the valley." Sarah wrapped her cloak tightly around herself. "Hoggle and Sir Didymus never said anything about it being dangerous."
"Didymus never thinks anything is dangerous, and your dwarf friend has never set foot outside the walls of the Labyrinth." he snapped, stopping to glare back at her. "But even they know without having to be told. The waters of the Merandanon can... alter a person, and not for the better."
Beneath her cloak, Sarah traced the scar in the center of her palm and tried to hold her voice steady. "I don't feel changed."
"You've been lucky," he said flatly. "If your friends had any idea of how foolish you were, it would frighten them out of what little wits they possess. But I'm not surprised you have so little concern for the feelings of those who care for you. If you had, you never would have left them behind in the first place."
The Goblin King turned on his heel and walked away, certain he'd hit his mark when he heard her furious intake of breath. He had little doubt that she would follow him back to the cottage, if only to get in a few angry words. Good. If he could help it, Jareth would see to it that she never got near the river Merandanon or the seeing-pool ever again. Her matter-of-fact recounting of her own vision in the water had chilled his heart. She had no idea how closely she'd evaded death, had no knowledge of his own part in it.
And Jareth would do all in his power to see that she would never know.
Hoggle dumped another bucket full of mud into a wheelbarrow and nodded at the goblin holding it. Grumbling a little, the goblin trundled off with his load of muck, and another moved up to take his place. The second of the remaining five wells had dried up, and Sir Didymus set the goblins to digging further down for as much water as could be found. As Hoggle himself had cause to discover, that amount wasn't much.
For the unfortunate goblin at the bottom of the well, the mud had to be hauled painstakingly up by a bucket on a rope, then lowered to repeat the process all over again. Sir Didymus had initially insisted on being at the bottom of the well, but after he'd jumped in and promptly sunk up to his ears in mud, Hoggle volunteered instead. He was beginning to regret that now. His arms were about to fall off and his back was in knots. What's more, he was certain that the Goblin King wouldn't be caught dead up to his elbows in grime and filth. At least after his long shift at the bottom of the well was over, he could trade places and work up in the light and fresh air. Not that this was a huge improvement.
Hoggle paused in pulling up another bucket and blew his nose with a grubby handkerchief. The early afternoon light was an ominous shade of yellow, and the air was thick with moisture. If you could grab a handful of air and squeeze it into a cup, Hoggle thought resentfully, you'd get more water than you could from this dratted well. He continued hauling rope as Sir Didymus rode up beside him, poor Ambrosius' shaggy fur looking like a wet mop.
"How's Ludo?" Hoggle started to stuff his handkerchief back into his pocket, thought better of it and threw it away.
"Poorly, I'm afraid." The knight had never sounded so disheartened. "My brother refuses all food and only took a little water. He sleeps now, but too soundly for my taste."
The dwarf sobered. He understood what Didymus did not say aloud, that Ludo might never wake.
"Does he... need anything?"
Didymus shook his head. "His last words to me were to ask for my lady. And..." The knight seemed reluctant to finish. "He said... the rocks were sick."
In any other situation, Hoggle would've laughed. But now he thought he knew what Ludo meant. It was as if the very earth were dying. Every green thing in the Labyrinth had dried up, and now the wells belched forth foul-smelling slime. More than any of them, Ludo had a close bond with the rock, it was no surprise that he felt its taint. As he thought of what to say to Didymus, a low rumble echoed through the skies.
"What was that?" A muddy goblin poked his head up from the well.
A group of goblins toting wheelbarrows chattered nervously, looking in all directions.
"It's nothing." Hoggle replied quickly. "Keep digging!"
Sir Didymus glanced up. The skies had darkened imperceptibly, and a light wind picked up from the west. His whiskers quivered.
"Something is up." Hoggle said uneasily. "I can feel it."
"The western tower." proposed Sir Didymus. "We would have a good view of whatever it was from there.
The western tower was the highest in the castle now that the king's tower had fallen, and it was also the newest structure, built entirely for weather-watching with a station at the top. Hoggle sat heavily on the tower wall, wheezing from the strenuous climb.
"Two hundred...and seventy-two...stairs," he exclaimed between huffs, "Just...to check...the weather..." Hoggle groaned and fanned himself with a fresh handkerchief. "Utter...madness..."
Sir Didymus clapped him on the back, not the least bit out of breath. "Cheer up, my friend. You did quite well, I do believe we've set a new time record."
But Hoggle was too busy hanging over the side of the tower, his mouth agape.
"Look, Didymus. I've never seen anything like it..."
And indeed, he hadn't. The bilious yellow skies were quickly giving way as angry storm clouds rolled in like a tidal wave. Even as they stood there, the light breeze had become stronger, blowing hard enough that Sir Didymus had to clutch the parapet or be carried away entirely.
More thunder sounded, closer this time.
"Rain." breathed Hoggle in relief. "We'll have full wells again and no more water rationing. A storm!" he called down to the goblins below, waving his hand wildly. "A storm is coming, we're saved!"
But Sir Didymus didn't look at all pleased. He noted how quickly the sunlight was fading, and the occasional crackle of violet lightning among the clouds.
"This is no ordinary storm. I do not think it brings our salvation..."
"Maybe, maybe not." Hoggle persisted. "Either way, we'd better get down from this tower before the lightning comes."
On that Sir Didymus could agree, and the two companions descended the stairs far faster than they'd climbed them.
Sarah watched as the Goblin King disappeared back into the cottage, fists clenched around the edges of her cloak. As much as she wanted to, she didn't follow him immediately. He'd hit a nerve, but she would be damned before she'd cry in front of him. The grass was cool underfoot, and she stood there taking deep breaths until she felt calm. There was something strange about the way he was acting. He'd been temperamental and angry from the very beginning, but last night there had been times when he seemed almost relaxed. His moods swung with wild unpredictability from one to the next, throwing her constantly off-balance.
"I am but mad north-north-west," quoted Sarah under her breath.
She shook her head. It was as if he were deliberately baiting her, but for what purpose? Sarah glanced back at the still waters and headed for the cottage. If the Goblin King wanted a fight, she would show him that two could play this game.
When she stepped inside, Jareth was sitting at the desk facing the door, sketching furiously on a sheet of parchment, his body angled so she could not see what it was.
"You're wrong." she told him. "I would never have left them if I'd had another choice."
"We always have other choices," said the Goblin King, not looking up. "They just might not be the ones we like."
"Then what other choice did I have?"
"You could've chosen to go home."
Sarah crossed her arms defiantly. "And what good would that have done? If I'd left, there'd be no chance at all of saving the Labyrinth."
"And you think by staying you have a chance?" Jareth swept the quill across the paper feverishly, not even stopping when he glanced at her with a cynical eye. "It seems to me that all you've done is make things worse. Wishing me away, then coming after me and abandoning your friends when they need you most. Still, it's all very romantic, isn't it?"
"What?" Sarah gasped.
"Not that kind of romance, I assure you." His hand paused ever so briefly, then continued. "Romantic like a fairy tale, where the clever heroine dashes off to save the day. You've always been over-fond of those silly tales, and I suppose it's too much of a temptation to try and live one. But you haven't the slightest idea of what to do now, do you?"
"And what about you?" demanded Sarah angrily. "I may not know what to do, but at least I'm trying. All you've done is sit here and do nothing. Hoggle and Sir Didymus are running around trying to save your kingdom, and you don't even make half the effort!"
"As I've told you, there is nothing I can do." snarled the Goblin King. He threw down his quill and scattered fine sand over the parchment, then blew it off with an impatient puff. "I've never pretended to have all the answers, and I don't have any now. The fate of my kingdom boils down to one moment, and it has not come. All I can do is watch... and wait."
"Is that what you were looking for out there?" said Sarah, her voice suddenly soft. "Answers?"
Jareth gave the tiniest of starts. He looked down at the parchment in his hand and seemed to see it for the first time. His lips thinned, and he crumpled it into a ball that he held tightly in his fist. When he stood, he stood so quickly his chair overturned and clattered to the floor.
"This conversation is ended." said the Goblin King, his voice deadly quiet.
With two quick strides, he hurled the wadded-up paper in the fireplace, turned and was out the door before Sarah could say another word.
As soon as he left, Sarah was on her knees, scrabbling in the fireplace with the poker. The crumpled parchment was badly scorched, but had not fallen into the center of the fire. She muffled it with the corner of her cloak and then carefully unfolded it, smoothing it out on the hearthstone. What she saw caught her breath.
Jareth had drawn a hasty sketch of a man with hollow cheeks, his body twisted around and lips half-open in a wordless cry. A plain crown sat upon hair that tumbled darkly over his shoulders, and his armor was ghostly white. The Goblin King had drawn it with reckless speed. The lines of ink were jagged and black, but the figure so life-like that Sarah almost expected it to speak. Above one shoulder, he held a heavy sword, captured in the act of bringing it swiftly down. There was something oddly familiar about the man. Sarah did not recognize the warrior's face, but as she scanned the parchment for clues, she froze.
On the third finger of the hand that grasped the hilt was a ring with a tiny grinning skull.
Sir Didymus did not know the time, for the skies were now black, as if an immense shadow passed over the castle. Outside, the goblins cheered as the first scattering of raindrops fell and water rained fast and furiously down from the heavens. Even Hoggle was jubilant, ordering that a cask of rhum to be tapped so they could celebrate the end of the draught. He stood in the courtyard, holding his arms and face up to the sky and shouting for joy.
"Don't be so gloomy, Didymus. Our troubles are over!"
The little knight shook his head, and water droplets ran off the tip of his nose. "I wish I could share your optimism." he said glumly, "Our water troubles are over, but I have a feeling that this is not the end."
As if to make his point, a loud crack of thunder sent goblins yelping and scuttling for cover. The prospect of being cooped up inside a place that reeked of wet goblin put a slight damper on Hoggle's enthusiasm. He huddled in a doorway and gazed out over the goblin city, whose streets were now small rivers.
"Maybe I spoke too soon." he muttered. "Figures."
A goblin crept up and tugged his arm. "The beast is awake. He is asking for you."
Hoggle brightened a little. "Come on, Didymus. Ludo must be feeling better!"
Ludo was awake, his enormous eyes blinking as he looked around the room. His bed lay near the archway of a small balcony, where a cooling breeze and the rain pelted through. Lifting his hand weakly, Ludo caught a few raindrops on his hand and gave a happy grunt.
"Rain at last," Hoggle told him, handing him a cup of water. "And you're looking better. Soon be back on your feet, won't you?"
Ludo's hand dropped back on the bed. "Sarah?"
"She's still away, my brother." said Sir Didymus soothingly, "But she'll soon be back. You must rest and get well for her return."
"Tired." Ludo sighed. He shifted restlessly, and they could see how shrunken his large frame had grown. His matted fur lay loosely over the bones like sacking.
"You have to try and eat something." Hoggle waved a goblin over. "Get some soup, make sure it's hot."
"Ludo... Not hungry." The beast rolled his eyes toward the window as another clap of thunder sounded. "Rocks... afraid."
Sir Didymus' whiskers twitched. "Afraid of what, my brother?" he asked urgently. "What is coming?"
Before Ludo could answer, there came a deafening crack of thunder that shook the entire castle. The candles by the beside toppled over, and the room was plunged into darkness. Hoggle cursed and fumbled for the matches, but before he could relight them, the room was illuminated by a blinding white and violet flash from outside, accompanied by a second thunderclap.
The goblins set up an unholy screeching and Hoggle stuffed his fingers in his ears.
"What's going on?" he roared, stepping outside Ludo's chamber. "Stop that noise and tell me what's wrong!"
"Lightning!" they cried shrilly. "Lightning has struck the throne room!"
Hoggle ran down the hallway, and saw that it was true. The rain had put out the flames almost immediately, but the damage had been done. The walls were intact, but the stones were blackened and scorched. The roof had caved in and lay on the floor, still smouldering.
But the most frightening sight to greet the dwarf's eyes was the Goblin King's throne, split neatly in two.
Back in Ludo's chambers, Sir Didymus groped along the floor in the dark, found the matches and set the candles alight.
"I would not admit it to anyone but thee, my brother." he said in a quavering voice. "But... I think I am afraid. The events to come will.. test us all. I must not be found wanting. I know thou shalt forgive my weakness, brother..."
He held up the candle to chase the gloom from Ludo's bedside, but it was too late. The light had gone from the tired beast's eyes and his head was tipped to one side, as if in peaceful slumber.
Ludo was dead.
"Gone?" Hoggle was back, his face slack with grief. "He can't be. Nothing could hurt him, he--"
But Sir Didymus was not listening. The little knight had quietly blown out the candle, and now walked through the open archway outside to the balcony. Unheeding of the cold rain that drenched his fur, he stood there, his head drooping to his chest.
"Hurry, my lady," he whispered, letting the howling wind carry away his words, "For I fear you do not have much time left."
It was only later that Sarah became aware of her aching knees and the cramp in her left leg. She had no idea how long she'd been kneeling there by the dead fire, the crumpled parchment still in her hand. Through the window, the light was rapidly falling away, and the Goblin King had not returned. Sarah stumbled outside, wishing she had a watch. It couldn't be that late, she thought. What...
Above the clearing, the window of sky was now overcast with dark clouds growing thicker by the moment, and the air smelled like rain. Sarah looked in vain, there was no sign of Jareth. She ran around behind the cottage to the spring, then to the small outbuilding where Rumor was quietly nibbling hay. He had not left, and there was nowhere to go except the forest. And he wouldn't go there on foot...
She gave Rumor a quick pat, then left and walked quickly to the edge of the pool. Sarah could see the gathering storm reflected in it, and now a strong wind rippled its surface. The clearing was empty. No Goblin King. Rain began to fall, a few cold drops and then a drenching torrent so that Sarah could barely see. The sketch clutched to her to keep it dry, she ran back to the cottage and slammed the door behind her.
Sarah pressed her face to the window, trying to see outside. A flash of lightning lit up the clearing as if it were high noon, and somewhere in the woods, she heard the great splintering shriek of a silverwood as it fell. The cottage was dark, and rain streamed down the pane of glass. Sarah suddenly couldn't bear the thought of being there alone.
"Fire!" she said pleadingly, her back pressed against the door.
Flames sprang up in the hearth, and Sarah gave a small scream. Sprawled across the bed in the corner was the Goblin King, his face white and his eyes like burning coals. He'd torn open the collar of his shirt, the pieces of cloth were gripped in one tightly-knuckled fist.
"Something is happening." he said in a strangled voice, "It has begun. Gods, I can feel it like a blade through my heart--"
Outside there was another loud crack and a groan as another silverwood toppled, this time so close that the very ground shook. Jareth's face twisted in pain, his back arching until it no longer touched the bed. He forced back a moan, turning his head into the pillow until his breath came in ragged gasps. Sarah ran to him, laying her hand across his forehead. He flinched from her touch, but turned his wild eyes to her. They had changed, now pale as winter and focused on nothing. Blood ran from his lower lip where he'd bitten it through.
"We're dying." he whispered.
Author's Notes: All right, nobody panic, but... There will be a slightly longer delay before the next update because I want to finish the story before I post the remaining chapters, something I don't usually do. (I've been posting chapters as they're written, or shortly thereafter.) The reasoning behind it is that I'm not actually sure how the story ends and I want to be able to write it out in full, just so I don't have to go back and edit already-posted chapters to correct whatever blunders that will no doubt be committed. However, I promise you that it WILL be finished, and the delay should not be more than a few weeks, perhaps less depending on how easily it comes to me. I'll post updates on my profile page if there's any news.
Reference: Sarah quotes from Shakespeare's Hamlet.
Comments/reviews welcome.