"Holy God," Sarah whispered, blinking.
Alix sat cross-legged, watching her face. "She managed to get me out, and into the care of a smuggler. At first I could not bear the touch of even the softest blankets, for every inch of me ached. I was paralyzed, unable to move, but I could feel everything. The smuggler left me with a clan of water fae, and they nourished my young tree and let me float in their pools where at least the water didn't hurt.
"It took me three years to heal. For the first two, I couldn't walk. It took months before I could even use my hands. Someone else had to feed me, bathe me, tend to every need. The naiads and nereids did it out of pity, and I made sure to repay their kindness. The smuggler did it because he was well-paid."
Sarah understood that it couldn't have been cheap. To risk the anger of someone who would murder her daughter's lover was dangerous enough, and then to have to provide such intimate care would've been costly too. "Her family must've been rich. How did she manage to get away with paying him?"
Alix smiled sadly. "They were wealthy, but she didn't pay him in coin, Sarah. She tried to give him her jewels, but he refused. To him, their value was only what they would bring once melted down; a whole piece is worth more, but identifiable. Instead, the currency he accepted is one that her parents will never miss – unless she agrees to marry the man they betrothed her to. He would notice."
Sarah could only stare, not wanting to believe what she was hearing. Alix explained, "Most fae don't care if their bride is virginal, but her mother advertises her purity, and she had to yield her maidenhead to save my life."
Sarah had to turn her head aside, one hand over her mouth, as her gorge rose. Losing her virginity hadn't been that big a deal to her, in the grander scheme of things … but this was different. "That's … oh my God, Alix. That's sickening." Ojore and Colleen had both heard this story before, but judging by their furious and queasy expressions, they hadn't heard that part.
"She didn't tell me at first," Alix said. "Not like we could stay in touch; I didn't dare contact her, when doing so would let her mother know I was alive. Later on we worked out a way to get messages to each other, but it had to be rare.
"When I was well enough, I went to work for that same smuggler. He dealt with me honestly, I'll give him that. Working for him made me rich. Taking her was just a point of pride for him, and I don't think he'd even understand why I hate him now. He did save my life, after all. Spent a month feeding me and cleaning me afterward, and never once touched me inappropriately, though I couldn't have stopped him. For all he knows, I cut my ties for some other reason, not because ten years and two letters later, Lare finally told me what it had cost her to save me."
"Jesus," Sarah whispered. "And you can't kill her mother, why?"
"Because she is my beloved's mother," Alix answered. "And because it is beyond me. She is a power I cannot surpass, face to face, and I have too much honor to send assassins, if even I could afford them. So far as she knows, I'm dead, and any move to exact revenge would bring me back to her attention."
"That fucking sucks," Sarah growled. "She deserves to at least get the living hell beaten out of her a couple times."
"She is not my concern," Alix replied. "Her daughter is. You realized, some time ago, that my end goal is to secure a kingdom for ourselves Underground. One where my kind, the low fae, never again have to fear that they will be slaughtered at a royal whim. Once I do that, I can invite my love to run away from home and join me." A pause, and then, "If I'm lucky, she will. I haven't had a letter in twelve years."
Sixty years, Sarah thought. Alix had been in New York City for sixty years, and there had been some years in between the attempted murder and her arrival here, by the sound. So for all that time, she'd be working toward reuniting with her lover. And through it all she only had a handful of letters to sustain her.
"You are a lot stronger than I am," Sarah said softly, shaken. "I think I'd go mad."
"Going mad won't solve anything," Alix replied with a shrug.
Sarah rubbed the back of her neck. "So, I know you said it was an apology and an explanation. How much of this can I tell Della? If any?"
"Tell her the lot, but let her know I will not accept an invitation to her realm. Or yours." Alix's eyes were implacable. "It must be our own realm, won by our own strength."
"And that's why Della being here set you off," Sarah realized. "If the others up here see you with her, they'll think you're making alliances, and try to put you down."
For a long moment, Alix simply looked at her. When she spoke, her voice was matter of fact. "I trust you, Sarah. The point is, when I leave New York, I intend to take as many of my rival's retinue with me as will come. They all know me by reputation, and many of them would leave their protectors, if I had such a thing to offer them. But that will look like I'm taking over the city, and I won't make a move in that direction until I have a realm of my own to retreat to. All out war among the urban fae would be an ugly thing."
Sarah could only cough at that. She could barely imagine. "I'll keep her majesty locked up, then, and I'm sorry I brought her Above without consulting you. I should've known fae politics was going to be a thousand times worse than humans."
The three of them shrugged in unison. "Something like this was bound to happen eventually," Colleen admitted. "The kings and queens below would someday take notice, and then we'd all be on the jump. I guess it's better that it's you, and Umardelin, than some others."
Alix stretched. "Tell the Queen of Etaron that her apology is accepted, and offer her my own. As for atonement, I ask none, and will accept none. And Sarah – thank you."
"For what?" Sarah laughed. "Getting all of us in this mess in the first place?"
"Not flinching at my scars," Alix replied.
Sarah could only smile sadly. "I've seen worse."
"We have work we ought to be doing," Ojore murmured. "Only two hours until we open."
Alix sighed. "My taskmaster. Very well, let us go. I need to order new boots, now."
Colleen, meanwhile, looked to Sarah. "I'm sorry for snapping at you," she admitted. "I thought 'twas you who set her off … I should've known better."
"Don't be sorry. You were just trying to protect your own," Sarah said. "Up here, that's really important."
…
When Sarah related the gist of the tale to Della later, she broke off in the middle, just after the other fae woman had set fire to Alix's tree. Della's eyes had gone an alarming shade of white, and her normally lovely features had hardened. "If ever she should give you a name," she said, her sweet voice gone cold, "tell me at once. It may be that I cannot exact retribution from this murderess, but I will do anything and everything in my power to make her regret her decision."
"Alix wouldn't want you to," Sarah said.
"Oh, I will stay out of Alix's way, and wait until she has her lover back again. Then I'll let this bitch feel my wrath. No one should ever abuse their folk as she has. If she's done it to Alix, she's done it to others. She does not deserve her title or the fealty of her vassals. I will see her stripped of them, if I cannot see her stripped naked and flogged from one end of the High King's court to the other."
As she spoke, the air seemed to tremble, and the chandeliers chimed as they swayed. "Okay, Della, I need you to calm the hell down," Sarah said. "There's nothing we can do right now, and Alix would hate you more if she could hear you."
"This is not about Alix. It's about the cruel idiot who thinks her blood gives her the right to do such," Della growled, but she shook herself, and the chandeliers stopped moving. "You're right, we can do nothing yet. But I will not forget this. Someone must keep the high fae in check, and it can only be one another. My mother, also, would have the wretch's head, for the abuse as well as trying to force her daughter into marriage."
Sarah groaned; she'd heard enough about Iswyniel to dread getting the sorceress involved. Della was bad enough all by herself. "Just please don't do this in front of Alix. I doubt you'll even see her again, but seriously, she'd be furious at you trying to take it out of her hands."
"She is very independent, your Alix, but she must have allies if she is to succeed. And I am not an advantage she can afford to waste," Della replied. "She will see that, in time. And I have an idea of how to handle her, now. No more court manners." Della smiled, and Sarah hoped like hell she wouldn't have to deal with whatever that meant anytime soon. She had bigger worries ahead – and one of them was the crown she'd shortly be wearing.
…
It was time to bring Toby down to Umardelin. Sarah worried, incessantly, and was half-sick with relief at the moment finally arriving. One way or another, they were finally getting this particular stressor over with. Toby himself was only eager, restlessly pacing her apartment while she made sure everything was in place Underground. With Jareth awaiting them and acting as the anchor point, Sarah would be able to bring Toby directly to the Queen's Park. Toby stepped through her mirror warily, then stood blinking in surprise. "This looks just like the park by our house," he said as she followed him.
"It's the Labyrinth's gift to me," Sarah told him.
Toby took a few steps, looking from the flower beds to the stone bridge. "Okay. So, this is the magical goblin kingdom? And you were worried about me losing my mind?"
Jareth chuckled softly, and Sarah rolled her eyes. "Tobe, c'mon. I brought you into the most normal-looking part of the place. I wasn't going to drop you straight into the stone maze. Or the junkyard."
"Technically, it is known as the Tract of Rottenness," Jareth put in, and Sarah shrugged.
Meanwhile Toby wandered over toward the bridge. He'd spotted one difference between this park and the one back home: a forest loomed at the edges of the Queen's Park. Not like the woods in New York, which could be spooky at night sometimes. This forest was a lot darker, its trees a lot thicker, and he couldn't shake the feeling that there were things in there watching him. Creepy, but not crazy.
He turned to Sarah, about to make another disparaging remark, and saw something coming toward them. A huge, shaggy monster shambled along, its horned head swinging with each stride, and at that, Toby finally paled. "Um … Sarah…" he said, backing up.
She looked, and for a second he thought she couldn't see the thing. Then she laughed. "Toby, that's Ludo. He's a friend."
"That's a friend?" he managed to squeak out, as the beast came closer.
Apparently it heard him, because it rumbled in a deep voice, "Ludo Sarah friend. Sarah got brother. Sarah brother friend, too."
Holding his ground, Toby had to admit the creature seemed to be smiling … and there weren't any sharp teeth in that huge mouth. Its dark brown eyes were mild. And those horns looked more like something he'd draw on some sort of large ungulate.
"Of course Toby is our friend!" a higher voice piped up, and Toby looked down to see some kind of foxlike creature in a hat, with an eyepatch, riding a dog. It hopped off and bowed formally. "Sir Didymus, at your service, sir. And may I say it is a delight to have you join us for this momentous occasion."
Hearing Sarah tell him about the Labyrinth in all his bedtime stories was one thing. Seeing its creatures, very much alive and real and yet impossible, was another. Toby felt himself reeling a bit, his mind trying to reject all of this. The world he lived in contained nothing more horrible than algebra tests, dressing out for gym, and embarrassing yourself in front of girls.
Now he was looking at creatures. Obviously intelligent, talking beings that belonged to no order of animal he'd ever heard of in biology class. He was way, way outside his comfort zone. All those fairy-tales Sarah had told him, those were real. There was an entire world out there that had nothing to do with the rules of logic or science as he knew them, a world that knew nothing of him and in which he had no place, and now he was in that world.
Except.
Wait.
He did have a place here. Right over there was his sister, his Sarah, brave and stubborn and beautiful (not that he'd admit it to her, since she was his sister and therefore a cootie). And real. His earliest memories included her. Yanking on her skirts to help himself stand up. 'Borrowing' her stuff. Being a pest, sure, but also adoring her, showing her his drawings and begging her for one more story before bed. Anywhere Sarah went, he could go, too. Anything she did, he was a part of, even if it was just cheering her on from the sidelines as she fought her way through getting her degree.
She was queen here, or would be soon. She could handle this, she'd looped her arm through the giant furry beast's and was smiling up at him fondly. If Sarah could hack it, then so could he, even if this was a world full of magic that no sane person could predict or understand.
Toby squared himself, and took a deep breath. "I'm okay," he said, as much to himself as to Sarah and Jareth. And looking at the fox-creature, he knelt down to offer his hand. "Toby Williams. Pleased to meet you."
The fox – its name, no, his name was Sir Didymus, Toby reminded himself – took it in both gloved paws, and gave him a surprisingly strong shake. "Very good sir, and again, you are most welcome."
Toby rose, looking with trepidation at the giant next to Sarah. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name," he said, offering his hand.
Its giant paw enveloped his hand, but it shook much more softly than Sir Didymus. "Ludo," it told him – no, it was a he also, the sooner he thought of these creatures as oddly-shaped people, the sooner this lightheaded feeling would go away.
Sarah smiled approval at him, and just when he thought he'd gotten hold of himself, a little goblin peeked out of her hair at him. "Hi!" it chirped.
She only laughed. "And this is Neesk, my royal page," she told Toby. The goblin – scarcely bigger than a rat – grinned toothily at him, and waved.
The goblins weren't the bad guys, here, he reminded himself. This was their kingdom, and Sarah was their queen. So Toby waved at Neesk, and breathed out, and discovered that making room for magic in his mind was difficult, sure, but he wasn't going crazy.
"All right, what else is on the menu?" he said, giving Jareth a challenging look.
The Goblin King just smiled. "Sarai, my love, shall we take him up to the castle?"
"Not so fast," she shot back, crossing her arms. "Let's just chill for a bit before we drop him head-first into coronation prep, okay?"
"Well how else is he to meet the third of your valiant allies?" Jareth said smoothly. "Good knights, would you be so kind as to go to the castle ahead of us, and let all and sundry know we are arriving soon?"
"Of course, sire," Sir Didymus said, with a sweeping bow. Ludo nodded, and the pair of them headed off, the fox knight chattering happily about the upcoming coronation.
Meanwhile Sarah glared at him, and Toby rolled his eyes. "C'mon, let's just go," he said. "How much worse could the castle be?"
His sister raised an eyebrow. "Try rooms that change configuration, and location, depending on what you need at the time. Or on what the runner expects."
"Runner?" he asked, cocking his head.
"Whomever has wished away a child, and runs the Labyrinth to regain him or her," Jareth supplied. "We had one recently, whom Sarah assisted to regain her son."
Toby looked at Sarah. They'd had this discussion; she'd wished him away when he was a baby, but she never really meant it. And she'd come back for him, fought her way past dangers untold and hardships unnumbered to rescue him. Not to mention the last fifteen years of being a pretty cool big sister. So he couldn't really be upset with her. Still… "All right," he said. "Got a question for you, Jareth. Did you let Sarah win me back, or did she beat you?" Underneath that was another question, one he hoped the fae king would hear and answer. Did she fight as hard for me as she says she did? And it pained him to see Sarah go pale as the words left his mouth.
Jareth chuckled, but stopped when he saw the look on Sarah's face. "Be easy, love. You would have asked the same, had it been you. Both of you have iron in your souls." And then, returning his attention to Toby, "Oh, she won most fairly. I offered her more than any other runner before her; I offered her the chance to rule at my side, if only she forsook you, though perhaps not in so many words. She turned down all her dreams to save a squalling babe who stole her toys and drooled upon them. You are her brother, Toby. Sarah would kill for your sake in an instant, and I count myself lucky to have escaped with only my city razed and my power temporarily broken."
"Yikes," Toby said, something about that phrasing sending a chill up his back.
"Enough about razing the city already," Sarah grumbled. "Toby … I love you. You know that."
"I know," he replied with a shrug. "It's just … when you know the fae can't lie, why not make sure of some stuff?"
She could only sigh. "Jareth's right. If it was me, I would've asked too. I just wish … never mind."
Toby couldn't think of a good answer to that. He hadn't wanted to hurt Sarah by his question. Not really. Maybe the same kind of 'not really' that she hadn't wanted to wish him away. But they were siblings, and that came with both a deep and almost frightening love, and a species of frustration with one another that only children never understood.
Instead of speaking, he just hugged Sarah tight, and she squeezed him back. That seemed to stand for all the words he couldn't find.
The moment ended when her goblin hopped over to his shoulder and sniffed his ear. "Waxy! Yum!" Neesk chirped, and Toby managed not to scream like a girl at the unexpected invasion of his personal space.
"Neesk, come here," Sarah said, stifling laughter, and the little creature ran across her arm to disappear into her hair again.
Toby shook his head, seeing the humor in it now. "Goblins are kinda gross, aren't they? I mean, not in a bad way."
"Yeah, they'd love your room," Sarah shot back. "The longer I'm here, the more I wonder how much of your current level of grossness came from being almost turned into a goblin."
"Nah, that's just boys," Toby said, grinning. "We're naturally disgusting. Girls are weird, though."
Sarah looked over her shoulder at Jareth. "Were you disgusting when you were younger?"
He arched a finely-shaped brow. "I? No. But I was a prince among the fae. I was too well-bred to be properly disgusting. Human boys have more license, I'm sure."
Sarah looked back at Toby and smirked. "See? It's you."
Grinning now, he stuck his tongue out at her. Jareth chose that moment to add, "The goblins have a degree of … candor, I suppose you'd call it, about less proper matters that is more to do with the innocence of the children some of them once were, than with any sort of deliberate attempt to disgust the rest of us. Be glad you have not yet attended the Fireshooter Festival."
"That doesn't sound too bad," Toby replied, as Sarah frowned.
Jareth sighed. "Goblins do not breathe fire. And it is not a display of weaponry, though we have cannon. Instead, they light certain flammable emissions, and measure the resulting flare…"
He had to trail off then, as Toby dissolved into snickers. It was the perfect gross-out humor, the kind of thing that would've had him rolling on the ground five years ago, and was still good for a belly-hurting laugh. Sarah just looked pained. Jareth continued, very drolly, "Be most glad that I found the loophole in the ancient tomes describing the festival, that its rulers should not only compete, but win said contest. And this is but one of the glorious traditions of the goblin race."
"Oh man," Toby wheezed. "But you're the king. If it's so gross, why not outlaw it?"
Jareth favored him with a smile. "Because my predecessor King Thydus tried to outlaw the traditions he found distasteful. The goblins revolted, and ate him."
"Which is why you sit up in the castle where you can't smell it, and probably send down plates of beans for them," Sarah guessed.
"Buckets of beans, actually," Jareth said, and from Sarah's shoulder came a faint singsong chirp whose tune Toby knew well. "Bean, beans, the musical fruit…"
Sarah looked horrified. "Oh, God, they know that here too?"
"Sure! Is beans song!" Neesk replied. "Lotta good songs come from Above. The worms song, the gopher guts song…"
Toby, who knew the latter, started snickering, and Sarah glared at him. "No singing," she said. "All boys are goblins. That's my theory."
"You see? You should have let me keep him," Jareth chuckled, and then his expression turned leering. "And you."
Sarah rolled her eyes theatrically, but Toby took a quick step away from them, in case the sappiness was catching. "No, now that's gross!" he insisted, and they both glared at him.
