Chapter Eighteen: She's uncertain if she likes him, but she knows she really loves him

Sarah rose to her feet, carefully stepping over Jareth's body so that she placed herself between him and Khazad.

'Touching,' he commented.

'What have you done to him?'

'Nothing more than he would have to me. We aren't so different, Jareth and I.'

Sarah looked him over scornfully. 'You are nothing like Jareth.'

He still spoke in Jareth's voice, but it was harsher than the Goblin King's own velvety tones. 'Come now, Sarah! I made a more convincing Goblin King than he does.'

'You could only pull it off by drugging me.' Her palms were sweating; she rubbed them on her skirt. 'You're a coward. You could at least have the guts to show me your own face instead of hiding behind Jareth's.'

He laughed again. 'Very well.'

ooOoo

'Fall back!'

Their troops had made inroads into the opposition, but they were still greatly outnumbered. The order to retreat was not one that Börgis Khån could accept easily, but he dutifully led his men back up the hill. They raced past Delaine and Rajad, both of whom stood their ground.

'You should go with them,' Delaine said, her gaze fixed at the enemy troops who were advancing.

Rajad ignored this comment. 'Aren't they close enough?'

'A little more - the closer to the Labyrinth itself, the better.'

The Elves and Goblins had retreated fully, closely followed by the Centaurs who were still firing arrows over their shoulders as they bolted past. They penetrated deep into the Labyrinth, where they would regroup and prepare for the next phase of the battle.

'Go.'

'I'm staying here.'

'You never did listen to a damn word I said,' Delaine muttered. She rooted herself firmly and slowed her breathing. She could always feel the energy of the Labyrinth but it was only when she accessed it directly that she was reminded of the terrifying intensity of its power. As its King, Jareth's control over it was far greater than hers but Delaine was able to direct it for short periods.

Her body jolted, her eyes snapping open; it was as though an electric current had been passed through her. For a moment it burned within her, but then she bent it to her will and sent the energy back out into the ground.

The earth began to shake.

The tremors were relatively gentle at first but then grew in intensity. Rocks and trees were dancing wildly in the grip of the quake - and in the middle of this, massed ranks of the aggressors were caught. Most of them were knocked off their feet, those closest to the Labyrinth getting the worst of it. Great fissures opened in the earth, the ground simply giving way beneath the soldiers' feet. They scrabbled at their comrades for help, dragging each other into the bottomless chasms.

Delaine staggered back; she would have fallen if Rajad had not been at her side. He held her firmly around her waist; her eyes were momentarily unfocused and glassy.

'Thanks,' she said weakly.

'My pleasure.'

Her strength a little regained, she pushed herself away from him and surveyed the scene of destruction with satisfaction. 'That went rather well, I thought. Come on.'

As they ran lightly the rest of the way up the hill Rajad asked cautiously, 'How is Jareth?'

'He's absorbed a lot of Khazad's energy,' Delaine replied a little breathlessly. 'The Labyrinth is working to replenish him, but it may take a little time.'

'When you say a little time...'

'We'd better keep moving as long as we can.'

ooOoo

For every form that broke the surface of the Bog and tried to make its way to land, another pulled it back in. Fighters on both sides had been trapped beneath its surface and at the moment it appeared that they were still locked in their ceaseless battle. As one hand and a long withered arm grasped the edge of the bank and started heaving a body out of the waters, Hoggle attacked it with a heavy club. The claw-like fingers clutched at a clump of grass, eventually releasing their hold and sinking back into the mire.

'Well done!' Sir Didymus shouted encouragingly. Hoggle grunted in reply. A cadaverous face reared out of the swamp, its eyes so sunken they were barely visible beneath the mask of foul mud that coated the head. The mouth was gaping open and Sir Didymus aimed his sword into it, driving it in almost to the hilt. One vicious twist and then he pulled it out again with an effort. He examined the blade, wrinkling his nose in disgust at the sticky black streaks; he wiped it clean on the patchy grass.

'You two might want to stand back.' Ambrosius' normally resonant tones were pitched even lower than usual, as though his voice were coming from the very depths of the earth. He had angled his staff, the prism set into the intricately carved head catching the feeble rays of the sun and radiating a powerful glow in turn.

Hoggle and Sir Didymus scrambled out of the way.

The sorcerer's face could have been carved from granite, so immobile was his countenance. The only life was in the depths of his coal-black eyes. He aimed the staff. A jet of red-gold shot from the glowing prism deep into the heart of the quagmire. Nothing happened, beyond the unending churning of the waters. And then a column of flame erupted from the depths. It soared upwards, burning fiercely and bathing everything in its crimson light.

Ambrosius lowered his staff and leaned against it. 'That should hold for a while.'

ooOoo

The form that Khazad adopted was not solid. It seemed to be a collection of dense shadows that was vaguely human in outline; in the area that Sarah guessed would be his face she could see a pair of burning yellow eyes. If he had chosen this appearance to frighten her it was less successful that he would have hoped: after having had the dubious privilege of seeing some of the contents of Khazad's head, Sarah had been expecting an unnerving sight. She stood her ground, throwing her shoulders back and raising her chin. She could feel the weight of Jareth's amulet around her neck and drew what comfort she could from it. He still lay motionless behind her.

'Not pretty, am I?' Khazad's voice rasped against her ears and she shuddered. 'I used to be. I used to belong to this land, until Jareth's forebears expelled me. I am simply reclaiming what's mine. That isn't so unreasonable, is it?'

'I wouldn't know about that. All I do know is that what you want to do here is wrong.' Something scuttled out of the shadows; she was vaguely aware of pincers and lots of legs and inadvertently took a step backwards.

She had already come to hate that laugh of his.

'You could end all of this very easily, Sarah.'

'And how am I supposed to do that?'

'Just give me what I want. The power you carry within you.'

In the distance a column of flame flared upwards, illuminating the sky; she heard Khazad suck his breath in, his yellow eyes narrowing.

'No.' She remained motionless as he came closer to her, determined not to take another step. If she did she would trip over Jareth and she did not want to risk injuring him further; not to mention the fact that sprawled on the floor is not the most dignified position from which to face a mortal enemy. 'I will never give you what you want.'

'How about we make a deal? A trade.'

Sarah couldn't see the castle anymore - everything around her was growing dim. 'There is nothing you have that I could possibly want.'

'Really?' His voice had changed again, now to something low and seductive. 'Not even your parents back?'

Sarah froze. 'What?'

Something brushed against her face.

'Your parents. Wouldn't you like them restored to you? You and Toby, of course. That poor little orphaned boy...'

'But-' Sarah licked her lips. 'But you can't bring back the dead.'

'He can't. Jareth!' he spat the name scornfully. 'Your precious Goblin King! He's weak. But I'm strong, Sarah. Strong enough to give you everything...'

After the darkness the sunshine was so bright she was momentarily blinded, automatically shielding her eyes with one arm. When Sarah looked around her she was standing in the garden of her house. The back door was open and she could hear the radio playing inside, a woman's voice singing along. Her stepmother's voice.

'Karen...'

ooOoo

Delaine raced through the tortuous passages of the Labyrinth, Rajad matching her every step of the way. She wondered, as they ran, whether Jareth had asked him to stay with her, or if he was a self-appointed bodyguard.

They were leading the enemy deep into the Labyrinth, through an assortment of Goblin ambushes and a few other surprises that Delaine manipulated. The passage they were running along obligingly widened itself to accommodate the small squadron pursuing them - and then closed in on their would-be attackers, squashing all of them between mercilessly grinding stone.

'Did Jareth ask you to stay with me,' she gasped, 'or are you a self-appointed bodyguard?'

'What ... do you ... think?'

'If I knew-' she slashed at a small, pygmy-like creature that appeared to have been mummified at some point in its life, '-that, I wouldn't have to ask.'

Her victim had been the most fast-moving of its companions - the rest of them were now chasing Delaine and Rajad. She grabbed hold of his hand and dragged him around a corner; they ran through an enclosure of gnarled, sinister-looking trees. Delaine slowed, waiting just long enough to see their pursuers following them. The little creatures let out bloodcurdling cries when they saw them. The air was suddenly filled with a deep creaking and groaning. The twisted branches reached out...

The triumphant cries turned to screams; there was the sound of the violent thrashing of leaves, like a forest in the middle of a storm. Then silence.

The ground was stained with blood.

Delaine fought against the bile that had suddenly risen in her throat. From somewhere nearby she heard the drums of the Goblin army and Börgis Khån's unearthly yells. 'Well,' she said quietly, 'it sounds like someone's enjoying themselves.'

They left the glade, turning into one of the Labyrinth's many winding passages. A wall of stone exploded next to them; they threw themselves clear only just in time. Delaine felt the heat of flame pass close to her face.

Fire Trolls.

The one that had them pinned down was a great, hulking brute: its eyes burned as red as the three lashes of fire that formed its whip. The whip was raised, aimed directly at them.

Delaine could barely think coherently, but managed to conjure a crystal and throw it at the Troll. The whip froze, its vicious flames replaced by icicles. The Troll howled in fury, shattering the whip against the wall. The shards rained down on them and Delaine felt one slice across her cheek like glass.

'Which way?' Rajad hissed urgently.

'This way.' They half-crawled, half-stumbled through the set of enormous doors that had appeared in the wall a few feet away from them. The doors led into an underground passage big enough for the Troll to follow them. Big enough for all three Trolls to follow them.

'Whatever you do,' Rajad snapped, 'I hope you do it bloody quickly.'

'I want to make sure all three are down here.'

'They are!'

'There's no need to yell.'

The Trolls were massive creatures, but their quarry had the advantage of speed. There was a fair amount of distance between them before Delaine stopped and shouted something down the passageway. Her clear voice reverberated for a moment, audible even over the heavy treads of the Trolls.

The ceiling of the passageway caved in.

The sound of falling rock was deafening and a great cloud of dust and gravel overtook them, but the roof over them held fast.

But through the dust came one tongue of flame - it curled around a protruding piece of rock, dislodging it. The whip's owner was buried under the cave-in, but the damage was done.

Rajad called out an incoherent warning and threw both arms around Delaine, pinning her against the wall and shielding her from the rock fall. She could feel his body jolting and knew that he had been hit at least once. He had pressed her face into the protective curve of his shoulder and she could barely breath for the heavy cloth smothering her nose and mouth and the vice-like hold of his arms.

'There's no need to hold me up,' he grunted when it finally subsided. She looked at him in amazement. He was pale: his normally bronzed skin was a sickly yellow colour and his left arm was hanging at an unnatural angle.

'Your shoulder...'

'I'm fine.' He propped himself against what was left of the wall - it seemed to be the only thing that was keeping him standing. He swatted her hands away. 'Don't fuss, Delaine.'

'It's dislocated. You can't do anything more in this state.'

Some of the colour had come back into his face; his green eyes snapped. 'Just get us out of here.' He saw the look on her face. 'And don't you dare...'

'...Materialise me somewhere,' he concluded, giving her a venomous glare.

Delaine pulled off her helmet. Her hair fell in damp, limp locks over her shoulders. 'Are you going to complain all day?'

'I thought I might.'

They looked around. Most of the Bog of Eternal Stench was on fire. Ambrosius' column had attracted the Fire Gang and they were gamely blasting everything that moved.

'They're finally good for something,' Rajad stated; his legs gave way and he sat down suddenly. Delaine knelt next to him, conjuring a flask and holding it to his lips. He drank a little and then choked; he pulled back, gasping, his eyes wide. 'What is that?'

'Brandy. It's a mortal drink. Is it too awful?'

'No, it's bloody marvellous. Hand that flask over.'

Sir Didymus joined them breathlessly, his whiskers a little scorched. 'Is all well, Your Highness? My Lord?'

'Couldn't be better.'

'Be quiet. Rajad is hurt, Didymus. Where is Ambrosius?'

'Well...'

She followed the little knight's gaze and swore violently.

Ambrosius, his staff held aloft, the prism casting a path of blinding light before him, had started to walk across the surface of the swamp. The flames parted and then closed behind him.

'What is he doing?' Her instinct told her to run to him, to drag him back; her legs refused to co-operate.

'More power is needed to keep the portal from activating again, Your Highness.' Sir Didymus fixed his one good eye on her blood-smeared face. 'The flames cannot touch him.'

'No,' she said quietly. They could barely see the grey-robed form through the dense smoke.

They all started as the Fire Gang erupted with whooping cackles - they had started an impromptu game of football with a disembodied head. The reeking, blackened object was, for once, not one of their own.

Delaine drew her knees up to her chest and lowered her head onto them trying, just for a few seconds, to block out this new, nightmare world.

To be continued...