Jareth trusted Sarah's judgment … but he was much too protective to tamely let her mess about with Aboveground fae entirely on her own. Neesk claimed to have heard nothing and seen nothing and wasn't even there when she talked to the strange fae lady, which only proved to Jareth that some of his subjects were choosing to side with her over him.
That had to be handled, so he took the fox-knight aside. "Sir Didymus, our Sarah is a very brave woman," he began.
The knight's mustaches quivered happily. "Of course, sire. The most courageous lady I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. Why, she insisted on facing you alone that first time, though we three would have been glad to aid her!"
"Do remind me of your treason," Jareth sighed, but when the knight would've hesitated, he went on. "She requires guards, for her safety as well as that of any creature foolish enough to anger her. Forthwith, I name you Captain of the Queensguard."
The promotion startled Didymus, and he saluted after a moment. "It is an honor, sire! I shall protect her with my very life."
"When Sarai is crowned, she will make your appointment official," Jareth said confidently. He didn't expect any resistance from Sarah on this particular matter. Didymus already devoted himself to her well-being; this was merely stating it formally. "As for your company, you may not have Hoggle, for I will not surrender my Royal Gardener. But I suspect Sarai will want to draft Ludo into her service. You may round out the rest of the guardsmen from among my goblins, though Neesk appears to have appointed himself her page. I would prefer that you take the least ambitious of them, as they are less likely to be a threat to her." That wasn't precisely true, but he didn't want to lose the goblins he'd painstakingly taught to be somewhat reliable.
"Of course, sire," Didymus said, and scampered off to set about rounding up goblins.
That left Jareth to his errand. He tracked down the other goblins that had protected Sarah, and questioned them to get a description of this Alix. Coupled with Sarah's story, he thought he could find the girl. Still, he was careful to do it when Sarah was at work Above … though when he stepped out into her realm, he found it was night. Perhaps she was asleep, instead. Keeping the time differences straight when it moved fluidly in both worlds was always a trial to him.
He was looking for a green-haired, goat-eyed fae, which told him she was one of the dryad races. The female of the species looked like a beautiful young woman with strange eyes, while the males appeared half goat – fauns or satyrs. This Alix was associated with a club called Imperiale, a cafe near Sarah's place of business, and also spent time in Central Park. Well, all of the dryads probably spent time there. He couldn't imagine how a creature so deeply tied to her tree could survive in this concrete-glass-and-steel wasteland without such a place as the park.
Jareth ignored the effort of pushing through Above without invitation; thanks to his bond with Sarah, and the Key she wore, he had ties here as well and could come in his own shape. It cost him, and he felt his power trickling away along his ties to Umardelin. If he needed to, he could call on his kingdom for magic and be answered, but it was disorienting and discomforting to be here.
He stalked, keeping a tight glamour over his appearance and his power. For the moment he looked like an ordinary man, as he charmed directions to the club out of the first person he met – a taxi driver, who also conveyed him there. It cost him a little power, again, as New York mortals were not particularly helpful of their own accord.
It looked as though he might be in luck. The hour was late, and the club appeared closed, though a few people were standing around the front doors. Jareth looked through the glass window of the cab, and let his power rise in him.
One of those at the door was wearing a glamour to disguise her decidedly inhuman features. At first, Jareth had only seen a somewhat disheveled woman in a green dress, but with magic aiding his sight he saw the water-weed tangled in her long, straggly hair, and the way her clothes were just slightly damp despite the cool, dry air. She was a grindylow, of the race called Jenny Greenteeth by mortals. That one was leaving, apparently just a guest and not a part of the club. Still, her presence established that this was the correct place.
The owner of the establishment would not be out front, so Jareth had the cabbie drop him off a few blocks away. As the owl, he soared back, silent and practically invisible above the streetlights. He found the alley behind the club and perched on the wall of the building opposite, watching as the employees left. They were all fae, of a variety of types. Low fae, he noticed, none of his own ilk. There were fae of his race Above, but they were the worst sort of exiles, landless, lawless, liars and thieves. A satyr or a pooka might choose to live Above where they wouldn't have to bow to a king, but the strictly hierarchical high fae only lived here if they were forced out. Jareth found himself feeling grateful that he hadn't been banished, though those first few years in Umardelin he might've preferred the stink of the city over goblin stench.
He saw his target come out, pausing to smoke a cigarette. She was flanked by a couple of tall, dark-skinned fae – not a race he knew, but there were many kinds of fae. By the look of those two, they were of African origin, or perhaps Caribbean. Underground geography was fluid, and no one knew all the fae from regions other than their own. It was irksome, as he couldn't guess at their abilities, but Jareth felt confident in his own powers.
There were perhaps half a dozen fae around the dryad now, and no one else was coming out of the club. Jareth decided it was time to make his presence known. He soared down from his perch, silent as ever and nigh-invisible outside the pool of light cast by the lamp above the club's door. Jareth landed in man form, took a deep breath, and dropped all his glamours and shields. At the same time, he called on Umardelin, letting a pulse of his kingdom's might rise through him.
All of the urban fae spun around, the two tall ones dropping their hands to their belts as if they might have weapons hidden there. They could all feel his magic, and the threat and promise that swirled within it. "Hold," the dryad said, calmly and firmly. All of them obeyed her, somewhat to Jareth's surprise. Dryads were not known as an ambitious race, and he hadn't really thought this one might be the leader of her little coterie.
She looked his way, where the iridescence of his magic caught hints of the light, though he was certain she couldn't see him well. "Leave us," she told her people.
"Alix," one of the dark ones started to protest.
The dryad held up a hand. "There is nothing we can do against him. Leave us. I'm the one he wants; better that the rest of you go. If you don't hear from me by morning, you know what to do."
Another of the females tossed her head and glared. A merrow, this one, riding in a wheelchair to hide her fish-like tail. Jareth fixed his gaze on that one and let his eyes glow like fire opals in the dark. Still he said no word; none was needed.
The rest slowly moved away, leaving the dryad to face him. She took another drag off her cigarette, then stepped forward, deliberately crossing into the shadows where the light would no longer blind her. "Greetings, King Jareth of Umardelin," she said courteously, and inclined her head in what was clearly respect, but just as clearly not obeisance.
Jareth let himself smirk. On the unclaimed lands, he could not demand that she bow before him unless he wished to establish himself as a contender for this area – and a boor, as well. "Greetings as well, Alix, if that is indeed your name. I see I was expected. Sarah said you were intelligent; I am pleased to find her assessment correct."
"She is very wise herself, your Sarah," Alix said, taking another drag off her cigarette. "Do you smoke, Jareth? I would be happy to share."
Another cunning move. She had used his name and Sarah's familiarly, though only after establishing that she knew the proper protocol. And she had done so in the context of a casual, friendly offer. This little slip of a nymph meant to show herself his equal, in diplomacy if not in magic, and her audacity amused him. "I do not partake of tobacco," Jareth told her. "Though I appreciate the offer. You know why I am here."
Alix smiled. She took off the dark glasses and let him look into her eyes, to see the amusement there. "You are protecting someone who is canny enough to protect herself. Still, because you love her, you must make certain she isn't going to consort with the kind of fae who will try to drain her power and tap into your kingdom."
"You assume much," Jareth said musingly.
"You love her," Alix repeated. "She insists that you are her king, yet you are not her king. None of your lineage would tolerate that from a thrall. Therefore she is your lover. And if you brought her Underground at her age, she must love you, too. Enough to believe, and to choose freely."
Jareth suspected that he knew how this one had risen to her position. She appeared innocuous, and dryads were not powerful workers of magic, but her mind sparked quick as summer lightning. He was also rather miffed at Sarah for making their relationship so blatantly clear, and resolved to tweak her nose about it at some point. "There is no point in denying the truth," Jareth said. "So, since you know who I am and who I love and why I've come, surely you know what I want."
Alix scuffed the tip of her cigarette against the side of the brick wall, knocking off the glowing ember there and tossing the harmless butt into a flowerpot filled with sand. Of course, a dryad would be very careful of fire. As Jareth noted that gesture, her other hand dipped to her pocket and came out with a tiny flint blade.
Not a weapon of offense, and he knew it. Still he was surprised that she would jump to this conclusion so quickly. Alix drew a faint line across the ball of her thumb with the flint, and amber blood welled up. "By my blood, I swear I mean no harm to Sarah Williams," Alix said. "I shall not harm her or hers, nor allow any of my followers to harm her or hers, save only in the extremity of self-defense. My intentions in offering to teach her magic are only to ensure the safety of my own people, and her own safety."
The thick blood – more like sap – dripped slowly across her hand and off her palm. Jareth watched as the first drop struck the earth; she had picked her place carefully, and there was a gap between the paving stones just there, so the soil could receive her oath. "It is witnessed, it is done," Jareth intoned, and Alix put her blade away, licking her palm.
There was a pause then; he had no need to threaten her now, and doing so would be unforgivably rude. Her oath showed her intentions, but if he offended her badly enough, he had no doubt this one could find a way around those sworn words to make him rue it. "I appreciate your honesty," he said at last.
Alix looked at him for a long moment, thoughtful. "We of the low races must trust in one another to survive here. There are too many who choose the fastest road to power, and care not whom they trample in their haste, whether it be friend, foe, or stranger. I and mine do not live that way. It is not worth the cost to our honor."
So she was building her following by being true to her word. It was the admirable way – also the slow, difficult way. "What is it that you want, Alix?" he asked. "Not of Sarah. You lead your allies for a purpose. What is it?"
Those caprine eyes narrowed, her slotted pupils regarding him warily. "Who are you to me, King of Umardelin, that I owe you an answer?"
"No one," he responded frankly. "Which is why you can speak freely, and I can believe you. You owe me nothing – yet still I would know. I am to trust you with the one who is most precious to me, after all."
A little brush of wind stirred around them both, lifting the ends of her hair and playing with the hem of his cloak. "I want to keep my people safe," Alix finally said. "None of us here are great powers, nor do we have patrons to help us. We are on our own, in a world not made for us, all too aware that a king like yourself could come strolling in and smash us flat. And if we go Underground? We would have to bow and scrape for permission to exist. Some of us cannot endure that anymore. Others were banished from their homes or disowned by their families. So we live here, and make the best of our exile."
She did not explicitly draw the parallel to his own situation, though since she knew his name, she had to be old enough and well-informed enough to know at least the gist of it. "Too many of my kind forget that we are all fae," Jareth told her. "It is an error which I do my best not to make."
"I appreciate that," Alix said. "But you also would not welcome a score of refugees, some of them with unsavory pasts, into your kingdom with open arms. You are not a fool. So I will aid your Sarah, and if we find that you and I can do business on equal footing, then it is all to the good. Otherwise, please understand it is nothing personal, but I would rather spend the next century here scrabbling for ever scrap of power and influence I can acquire by my own wit, than to bend my knee even once to you."
Jareth nodded. "I see why Sarah approves of you," he said dryly, and she laughed.
"She is not one to bow, is Sarah," Alix mused. "Will she take the throne?"
"Yes. Her coronation is fast upon us. The sooner I can make her status official, the happier I will be."
"I shall send my regards, though I have no desire to attend such a ceremony. I expect the company will be rather too high for my taste."
"And for mine," Jareth sighed, which won him another quick smile. The best way to ensure this one's alliance and neutralize any potential threat was to treat her as she treated others – with honesty and courtesy, but no deference. "Teach her well, Alix. And continue to take care of your people here. That is another thing my kind often forget: a king is nothing without his kingdom."
"Much luck to you, King of Umardelin," Alix replied. "I will do my best for Sarah, as I would have done whether you spoke to me or not. Since you love her so, and she loves you, I offer a word of caution. Mine are not the only fae Aboveground. There are two other factions in this city, and their leaders are fools enough to see her as prey. I will do my best to teach her such that she can stand against them without leveling Manhattan."
He couldn't help arching a brow, remembering the explosion of goblins Sarah had caused at the end of her second run. Her power was growing daily, too. "If they are so great fools as that, the goblins teach a lasting lesson, if a painful one. And my people trail her everywhere. Better, perhaps, that they bite a little courtesy into these other urban fae, than that Sarah herself should happen to them."
"I will put the word about that she is not to be trifled with," Alix said. "That her King is a fearsome fae, quick to anger, and best left out of our struggles Above. It may not dissuade them, but it is the truth."
"I am not so ill-tempered as that, but it is better they believe so," Jareth replied.
Alix smiled wryly. "And had I tried to meet you with the strength of all my people, rather than speaking sensibly just between us? Or declared that as a mortal and a citizen of this city, one who dwells on my territory, Sarah ought by rights be ours? Methinks you would give the very definition of 'quick to anger'."
He had to concede the point. "You are not a fool … and neither am I. There is no need to threaten you and yours. I am quite glad it was you who noticed Sarah, and not these others."
"As am I, King of Umardelin," Alix said. "As am I."
That concluded the interview, with a few formal words of leave-taking, and he turned himself back into an owl. Jareth had not explored Sarah's city very often, mostly winging over whatever part of it she happened to be in at the time. Now he took a leisurely flight, made curious by Alix's remarks. He could not completely take her at her word that any other fae Aboveground would be hostile, but he would heed the warning and be cautious. Best to try to establish what their territories were, if he could.
He had surprisingly little luck finding fae. The places Jareth would've gone, had he been trapped up here, were deserted. When he widened his search to clubs like the one Alix owned, he started to see a few. Low fae, almost all of them, of the sorts that could blend in with humankind fairly easily.
But there had to be a sprinkling of his own race in this city, whether he saw them or not. Jareth wondered who they were, and what they had done to earn such exile. He would have to warn Sarah most carefully of them, for the high fae had the most and strongest magic, even here Above. His only consolation was that none of them, no matter how powerful, could possibly stand against the strength of his kingdom.
