Chapter Nineteen: Time

Sarah hovered in the doorway. The kitchen was bright and warm and Karen moved about busily, seemingly unaware of her stepdaughter's presence. Sarah pressed her hands against her eyes and breathed deeply. She caught the indescribable mix of scents that always permeated the house.

'Oh, there you are. Sarah, are you okay?'

Sarah raised her head and found Karen's concerned eyes fixed on her.

'Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks.'

'Everything you want, Sarah. And I ask for so little in return.' His voice was inside her head; she braced herself and stepped fully into the kitchen. Karen was chatting away happily, the way she always did when she was preparing dinner.

'Can I give you a hand?'

'Thanks. Fetch the big salad bowl down, will you?'

A dark something moved on the corner of Sarah's vision - she turned her head sharply, but there was nothing there. She grasped the dish - a brightly coloured bowl that Karen had insisted on bringing all the way back from Mexico one year - and placed it carefully on the counter.

'Karen.' Sarah took a deep breath, her insides twisting. 'There's something I need to tell you-'

'Oh.' Karen held up a hand, her head tilted to one side. 'I think that's your father home.'

'Don't you want your family back?'

She heard the familiar sound of the key turning in the lock and then the thud as he dropped his briefcase on the floor.

'Every day he does that and every day I ask him not to,' Karen muttered. 'Does he listen to me? No.'

'Hi, honey!' Robert Williams' cheerful voice echoed through the hall.

'We're in the kitchen,' Karen called back.

Sarah leaned against the counter, clutching the edge so hard her knuckles turned white.

'My two favourite girls together,' he announced, walking into the kitchen. He deposited a kiss on his wife's cheek and grinned at his daughter.

Sarah managed to smile back, not trusting herself to speak. Her father looked at her intently, something softening in his gaze. He placed a hand on her shoulder. 'Everything okay, Cinders?'

His nickname for her as a child. She had spent so many hours lost in books, dreaming of being a fairy tale princess... Sarah wrapped her arms around his neck and laid her head on his shoulder. He stroked her hair. 'I wish I could get this welcome every day.'

Sarah bit her lip and squeezed her eyes shut. They had been so happy together. They had all been so happy...

Robert kissed her on her cheek, but instead of releasing her, he whispered in her ear, 'You have to do the right thing.'

Her eyes flew open.

'No matter how hard it is, you have to do it.'

She clung to him, breathing in the familiar mixture of starched shirt and aftershave. 'I know that, Daddy.' Over his shoulder she could see Karen watching them, nodding slightly. She looked so serene. Sarah gave her a watery smile. 'Good-bye.'

She pushed herself away from her father. 'The answer is no, Khazad! I won't do it.'

Everything shattered and she was falling through darkness.

ooOoo

'If you don't stay there and keep still, Hoggle will hit you with his club.'

'He wouldn't dare,' Rajad replied haughtily. Nevertheless, he eyed the Dwarf warily.

'Wouldn't I?' Hoggle weighed the club in his hands.

Rajad cast both him and his former wife baleful looks and settled back against his tree-stump. His cloak had been sacrificed to form a makeshift dressing and sling for his arm. Putting the shoulder joint back into its socket had been an unpleasant experience for all concerned and he was certain that Delaine's foot had left a permanent impression on his chest. Delaine herself was watching her crystals intently, studying the scenes inside. 'How are things going? Or am I not allowed to ask questions either?'

'Only if you can't manage intelligent ones,' she muttered; looking up, her expression softened. 'It's going well. Our combined forces have almost routed the invaders. I'm going to rendezvous with Börgis, see exactly how things stand.' She held up a hand against his objections. 'I'm not going to hide away while my people are being killed, Rajad. What are you doing?'

He had struggled to his feet. 'I'm coming with you.'

'You're in no state to-'

'I banged up my arm, I am not-'

'Stubborn is too good a-'

'I'm stubborn!'

'You-'

'You-'

'Oh, jus' get goin'! The both of you!' Hoggle snapped.

Delaine breathed heavily down her nose. 'Fine.'

They reappeared on the edge of a battlefield. Entire walls of the Labyrinth had been blasted to rubble; the ground was littered with uprooted trees and corpses. The rich, metallic scent of death assaulted them, but with it came the knowledge that the battle was in its final stages and that theirs was the winning side.

Börgis Khån, his eyes red with bloodlust, saw them and raised his scimitar in triumph. Most of the opposition were dead: those who were not had either surrendered or, if they were determined on martyrdom, were still fighting on. It was a losing fight and even as Delaine and Rajad stood there, the last of the enemy forces was cut down.

Everything became very still.

Across the space one figure ran toward them, her feet swift and light, her burnished green cloak streaming behind her. She stopped in front of them, barely out of breath despite her run, and saluted. 'The Flatlanders have surrendered, Captain.' She addressed Rajad; before there was time for a response, Delaine let out a gasp, her eyes widening.

'What is it? What's wrong?'

'I-I don't know. Something shifted in the Labyrinth, its energy...' Her voice strengthened. 'I'm all right, honestly. We can take the good news to Ambrosius.'

'He will be pleased to get out of that swamp.' He smiled. It was not something that Rajad did often, but when he did the effect was devastating. He held her to him with his one good arm and Delaine carefully avoided his abused shoulder. The fight was far from over, but for a moment they could enjoy this initial victory. They would tell Ambrosius and the others and then they would marshall all their forces toward the castle.

They parted and Rajad had a few words with his lieutenant. Delaine's eyes moved past them to the horizon.

'Rajad.'

The laughter died from his face as swiftly as it had come; he turned sharply in response to the quiet urgency in her voice. Her smile had faded. He followed her gaze to the horizon.

'What is that?''

'I don't know,' he replied.

It was approaching rapidly, a seething mass that lay across the horizon and swirled up into the air like a densely packed swarm. Delaine could have sworn that the darkness was devouring the land itself, if such a thing were possible. It couldn't be possible.

'Börgis! Reform the lines!' Her voice carried across the field. Rajad and Delaine ran to join the jostling armies, drawing their swords as they moved. She could feel her heart hammering in her chest, performing the erratic rhythm of fear; she jammed her helmet back on and gripped the hilt of her sword in both hands. In the failing light the blade glowed a faint purple.

'What does that mean?' Rajad asked over the sound of clashing steel as their troops reorganised themselves.

'I'm not sure. But it can't be good.'

ooOoo

The world was falling down around her. She was standing on the only firm piece of land, surrounded by crumbling ruins and the vast expanse of space. Jareth lay at her feet, still unmoving. Sarah crouched next to him and placed one hand on his face. He seemed to be breathing, at least; she smoothed the hair back from his brow - it was unexpectedly soft; silken strands twined themselves around her fingers. She felt the shadows gathering behind her before she saw them. Turning, she stood to face her enemy once more.

He had changed his form yet again: she was confronted by a figure clad in dull black armour; the yellow eyes still burned brightly in the void where his face should have been.

'You stupid little girl.'

Sarah stared back at him unflinching.

'Have you any idea what you have refused?'

'Someone else made me a much better offer once - I still turned him down.'

All around them, floating in the air, were innumerable clocks, all showing different times. Their incessant, overlapping ticking was like the buzzing of so many insects.

She heard a rattling sound as Khazad sucked in a breath. 'Jareth offered to show you your dreams - but I can make you live your nightmares.'

Sarah managed to laugh at that, albeit a bitter barking laugh. 'Considering what's happened to me this week, I doubt that you could do much worse. I lost two of the people I love the most. I've already lived the nightmare.'

His eyes narrowed. 'Maybe. But there are still two people whose deaths you would mourn. Give me what I desire and I will spare your brother. I might even spare that pitiful excuse that calls himself the Goblin King.'

For a moment her face felt so icy she could barely speak, but all the time there was that insistent voice in her head that reminded her that everything Khazad said was a lie. And Jareth believed in her - and in her strength. 'You can't touch Toby.' A new realisation came to her. 'And if you could just kill Jareth you would have done it by now.'

'Maybe.' His voice was as hard as steel. 'But remember, girl, that you are mortal. You do not possess the magic of the Fae; and the power that lies within you is not yours to control. There will come a time when you will beg me to take the power of the Labyrinth from you.'

'You think so?' The ticking was driving her crazy. It seemed to have penetrated her mind until she couldn't think straight. She could hear her own voice but had little control over what she was saying, almost as though she were a spectator watching herself in a play. But there was no script this time, of that she was certain. This time the enemy was real, there was no game and the outcome was far from assured. 'I wouldn't be so sure about anything, if I were you. One thing I learnt about this place a long time ago: just when you are absolutely sure about something, it turns out you were wrong.'

With what little patience he had possessed now expended, Khazad let out a wordless cry and raised his fist. Sarah ducked, instinctively shielding herself from a blow that never came. There was a loud sizzling crack. When Sarah raised her head, Khazad was clutching his hand; his eyes moved from it to her and back again. She shared his evident bewilderment. He moved again to strike her - his fist collided against an invisible barrier and rebounded in a shower of sparks. Sarah's hands flew to the amulet at her neck.

'Jareth was right,' she said slowly. 'You can't force me to give up the power. You can't just take it from me. You're not strong, you're a bully. You're the one who's weak.'

'Be careful, child. Just because I cannot strike you does not mean I cannot hurt you.'

She was aware of the pain creeping up the base of her skull and flaring across her head, but only vaguely. It was muffled and she noted it dispassionately, as though it were happening to someone else. She could not organise her thoughts, but two phrases kept chasing each other through her head, '...it will show you your dreams ...', 'You always said that dreams are stronger than nightmares...'

The Underground would have to endure. The beauty of the Labyrinth could not be lost. To keep it safe... That would be worth any sacrifice.

'You're right,' her words were starting to slur, 'this power isn't mine to control. But it is mine to give. And if I could give it to anyone, I would give it to Jareth.'

'No!'

'It's his anyway - to do with as he wishes.'

And Jareth would keep the Labyrinth safe. The thought filled her with an overwhelming, unreasoning happiness.

Then, for the first time, Sarah felt the power of the Labyrinth. It was not the gentle buzz of magic that she had felt when flying across the Underground or even in Jareth's enchanted ballroom - this was a tumultuous river of energy coursing though her. She could feel its heat running through her body and exploding in her brain. Her mind was expanding beyond the parameters of human knowledge and existence. She could see to the limits of time and space, could see beyond those limits to the beginning of all things and to the end of time itself. Space was merely a plaything, something fluid and changeable that could be bent and shaped by a stronger will. She was no longer simply Sarah Williams, a mortal girl with no extraordinary powers: she was the receptacle for the knowledge and power that could control universes.

And behind her rose a figure, beautiful and terrible. He burned as brightly as living gold; his hair fell to his shoulders with the fluidity of molten metal and his eyes were fires of emerald and sapphire. Jareth, ruler of the Underground, controller of the Labyrinth, Goblin King, stood in all his true strength and splendour. The timepieces went crazy: the hands of some racing around their faces, others running backwards.

'I told you you could not have her, Khazad.' Jareth waved a commanding hand; all the clocks stopped. 'It's time to end this.'

Khazad drew his sword. The two opponents - one armed, the other not - circled each other. Khazad lunged suddenly, the cruel blade catching the light of the dying stars and glinting dully. Jareth's movement was so fast only the result could be seen - the sword skittered across the ground. Khazad fell back a few steps.

'Oh dear, you dropped your sword.' Jareth prowled forward with the lithe grace of a cat stalking its prey. His smile was a feral grimace of malicious enjoyment.

The fight was not one governed by rules. The adversaries locked together, metal grinding against metal as each sought for the weakness in the other's defences. One of Khazad's hands found Jareth's throat - the chain mail and heavy leather gauntlets covering his hands ended in long, sharpened metal talons.

'You've read too many of your sister's novels.' The stench of Khazad's breath against his face was the smell of decay. 'There is no chivalry in battle, Jareth. And ideals are not always worth fighting for.'

'You should have paid more attention to Delaine's words.' Jareth struck at him; his strength, magnified, sent his assailant sprawling. 'That way you would know it is always the good side that wins.'

'Good?' There was a low, rasping laugh. 'Not everyone sees you as the hero in this, Jareth.'

The Goblin King smiled. 'Perhaps not. But I don't care what anyone else thinks - all that matters is how this ends.'

'Then end it.'

Khazad moved faster this time, kicking Jareth's feet from under him. The two figures closed, grappling with each other. Occasionally one would land a blow that would loosen the other's grasp, but it was never quite enough... Until, with an effort that summoned all his strength, Jareth pinned his enemy down.

He knelt on his chest, stifling Khazad's desperate thrashing and held both of his wrists with one hand, holding them down above his head.

'You already had a kingdom, Khazad. You should have left mine alone.'

'It should have been mine-'

His words were cut off as Jareth grabbed at his throat. 'There is no place for you here. Not anymore.' He released his hold and forced the visor of Khazad's helmet back.

'Jareth... The spell... The spell your father cast in the garden... It can be reversed-'

'Silence.'

'I can tell you how... Jareth, please!'

Jareth lowered his head until his eye's were only millimetres from his foe's. 'I have inhabited these worlds for a long time, Khazad, and I am not so naïve as to believe your trickery; I know that time cannot be undone. But you can.'

He straightened up. A crystal appeared in his hand and as it spun between his fingers, it changed into a long-bladed dagger. Taking only a moment's pleasure in his enemy's despair, Jareth drove it into the void exposed by the raised visor.

Khazad managed to wrestle one hand free of the iron grasp around his wrists; he seized Jareth's hand, trying to force the blade back. It was already too late. His strength failed. The dagger still in place, Jareth stood and watched. Khazad's armour crumpled in on itself, buckling and snapping under the tremendous internal vacuum created as Khazad's energy was turned against himself. The shadows around him were sucked inwards, spinning in the vortex of his self-destruction. Over it all was a piercing, shrieking cry that rose and fell and then was suddenly cut off. All the matter that had been drawn towards that one central point exploded outwards. Jareth threw up his arms, shielding his face. And then the spinning debris rushed inwards again, and vanished.

Jareth lowered his arms, the blazing gold fading from his skin. The sky over the castle was black with clouds, the wind almost knocking him off his feet. And in the middle of the impending storm stood Sarah. He could feel the power radiating off her. Her hair streamed around her like a banner of night; her eyes burned so brightly he was almost blinded by them. The power of the Labyrinth was flowing through her; but without the ability to control it, it would consume her.

'Sarah!' He caught hold of her. 'Sarah, look at me.'

Her chest was rising and falling rapidly, her face bleached white by the intensity of the light emanating from her eyes. 'It burns,' she whispered.

'I know.' He cupped her face in one hand, forcing her to look into his eyes. 'Sarah, look... Look what I have.' It appeared in his hand, a perfect delicate globe.

Her breathing was ragged. 'Wh-what is it?'

His firm lips curled into a smile. 'It's a crystal, nothing more. Look into it, Sarah.' He held it in front of her. It lay in his palm between them and the two glowing silver beams that were her eyes fixed on it. Tendrils of magic began to swirl inside the clear surface, filling it like a cloud. As the light drained from her eyes, the crystal glowed ever brighter until it looked as though he held a star in his hand.

She slumped against him.

With Sarah's limp form still cradled in the protective grasp of his arm, he turned and threw the crystal into the heart of the Labyrinth.

ooOoo

The scuttling shifting mass was almost on top of them, but they still could not identify what it was. Delaine, summoning up more of the Labyrinth's power, threw up a barrier between it and their troops. The shield granted them only a brief reprieve: it held for a few moments and then the shapeless entity smashed through and surged toward them.

The resulting pain exploded behind her eyes like a star burst and Delaine fell to her knees. Rajad crouched over her, holding his sword defensively over both of them and bracing himself for the impending impact.

A streak of light tore across the darkening sky, tracing an arc and then falling to earth. The ground shook beneath their feet. The approaching darkness broke over them in a wave ... and dissipated like early morning mist burnt off by the sun.

Rajad slowly lowered his sword and both he and Delaine looked upwards. For the first time that day they saw the true, unsullied blue of the sky and felt the rays of the pale, watery sun on their skin.

ooOoo

The violent churning finally stopped. The pillar of fire extinguished itself, racing downwards with the same speed and force of its ignition until only the dense smoke that hung over the surface of the Bog of Eternal Stench was evidence of its existence.

The Fireys were, at last, silent; they had collapsed together in a mass of red-gold fur and tangled limbs.

Hoggle lowered his club to the ground and leaned against it heavily; he couldn't have raised it again if his life depended on it. In all his long years he had never felt so old. Next to him Sir Didymus drooped. The feathers in his cap had burnt away and his chin almost rested on his chest as though he no longer had the strength to hold his head up. But his keen beady eye was fixed on the heart of the swamp, waiting - and hoping - for something to stir.

'Look.' Hoggle's throat was so parched he sounded as though he had been throttled.

It was only a dim silhouette at first, gathering more substance as it approached the bank. The wreaths of smoke broke around the tall figure. Ambrosius set foot back on solid ground, resting the tip of his staff between his feet and gripping it with both hands. He was trembling slightly, the lines etched into his pale face seemed to have deepened. A slit appeared in his grizzled beard as he saw the exhausted combatants huddled beside the Bog. A broad grin spread across his face.

ooOoo

In both speech and movement, Ludo was slow. That did not mean he was stupid. He was aware that Sarah had entrusted her brother to him and, should the situation become desperate, he was fully prepared to bundle the child through the portal and send him home. Ludo had condescended to release Septìmüs, but he had kept a tight hold on the wriggling ten-year-old. The Goblin had stood by: silent, mutinous and watchful.

When Ludo finally let Toby go, the boy ran from the room before the beast had a chance to change his mind. He raced through the meandering corridors, taking some of the short cuts Jareth had shown him. Toby had seen Sarah land at Jareth's side, had seen her rise to face the Goblin King's double and then all three figures had been enveloped in an impenetrable darkness. He had no idea how long that darkness had lasted: it had felt like a lifetime. And then those two beacons of silver had cut through the gathered shadows. It had been a shock when he had realised that those beacons were his sister's eyes. The figure of living light, he knew, must have been Jareth but it was hard to reconcile that sight with the man he had come to know over the past days.

He ducked behind a tapestry that concealed an opening and continued down a sloping passage that led directly to the battlements. He didn't know what he was going to find. Of Jareth's fight with Khazad he had seen very little: both had been moving too fast for the human eye to follow. It was only at the end he had been able to see clearly: he had heard that terrible shriek that had reverberated painfully in his head; and he had seen Sarah fall forward into Jareth's arms.

Toby burst through the doorway and stumbled to a halt on the battlements. After so much darkness the sunshine was dazzling. He screwed up his eyes against the light; and then he saw them.

Sarah's eyes fluttered open. She felt as limp and boneless as a new-born and knew she would have fallen but for the arms that held her firmly. It seemed unnaturally bright and for a moment she thought that the worst had happened and they both were dead. Spending eternity in his arms didn't sound so bad as far as the afterlife went... Until she realised that she could feel his metal breastplate digging into her and the air was heavy with the scent of the jasmine that grew below the battlements. The mismatched eyes that had haunted her for a decade were inches from her own. Beyond him she saw her brother and behind Toby the solid, comforting mass that was Ludo. She refocused on the Goblin King's handsome face.

'It's over, isn't it? Everything's all right now?' Her voice was scratchy.

It was one of the few times she had seen a genuine smile. 'Yes. It's all right now.'

Her own smile was gentle, peaceful; her eyelids felt heavy as she rested against him. 'Looks like you didn't lie to me, after all.'

To be continued...