Author's Note—
10/6/06
Okay. So, I've done it again. I've revised. I've gone back through all the chapters and fixed some errors or little things that were bugging me. Tweaked a conversation here, elaborated a tad more there…nothing very major, and if you could actually spot the changes, I'd be very happy because that would mean you paid attention the first time 'round.
Oh wait, I did change this chapter. A lot. I've overhauled this part for many reasons—the main one being that I didn't like the direction it was going. And since I hit a wall and hadn't been able to write for the past year (really, very sorry about that) I went back and revised to try and work my way out of the corner. I hope you'll like the changes.
Disclaimer—Must I say this again? They're not mine. They never will be.
Chapter Ten—The Origin of…Almost Everything
Sarah quickly realized that her 'gift' from Jareth was not all it seemed. Of course it wasn't.
Carrying around a glass orb in her pocket had proved awkward and it took Sarah a few days to decide what to do with it. Inspired by the many summers spent wandering Renaissance Festivals back home, she shrunk the crystal to the size of a marble and transfigured a twig into a necklace with a small metal claw to hold the jewel. She wore her new accessory at all times. When she wanted to find someone or something, she plucked the crystal from its holder and rolled it down the hall, the orb returning to regular size as it careened around corridors and across school grounds.
Sarah enjoyed being able to locate her misplaced shoe or that kid from her class who had borrowed her notes and promised to return them yesterday. She found the perfect spot for watching the rain and reading a book to be a plush window-seat on the sixth floor, east side of the castle hidden behind a tapestry so that most people didn't even know it was there.
Sometimes, she would use her crystal to find the Goblin King if he was around, just for a chat, or to pester him about her friends from the Underground. She was concerned about Hoggle, Ludo, and Didymus, but she also secretly enjoyed watching Jareth's face as he got annoyed with her and subsequently disappeared, grumbling about stubborn chits who didn't know when to let well enough alone. More than once, when she'd wanted to talk with him, the crystal had refused her search and rolled back to where she stood, bouncing from the floor up to her hand. It had irritated Sarah to realize she was disappointed when Jareth wasn't around.
Although she might not have been able to locate him every time, when Jareth wanted her, the necklace would start trying to tug her in the direction she was meant to go and the crystal eventually glowed a blinding, white light if she waited too long to answer the summons.
To her silent amusement, he usually sent for her several times a week.
A terrace on the seventh floor, an abandoned classroom down in the dungeons, the bleachers on the Quidditch pitch or sometimes on the edge of the lake on the north side where the woods were safe and riddled with hiking trails were the places the locater lead her between classes or after the evening meal. Her friends commented on her newfound habit of wandering off after a rolling crystal, but Sarah only smiled and said she'd see them later. Her encounters with Jareth were always private and if he sensed someone approaching, he would either change to the barn owl or disappear in a shower of light that dazzled her eyes. However, people did manage to see him, if only from a distance. Harry asked her one night, while a group of them were studying for a test, who the bloke was he had seen walking with her around the lake.
"He was no one I recognized," explained Harry.
"Oooh!" gasped Ginny from her end on the couch she and Harry were sharing. The group had taken over one of the many lounges in the school where students from different Houses could loaf about in comfort or have study sessions. The seventh-years were here for an exam they had in Herbology the next day and Ginny had come along because she and Dean were no longer dating…and Harry was dense. They were all supposed to be there to study and do homework, but Sarah and Neville were the only ones who actually seemed to be doing anything productive—Harry had out a Quidditch magazine and Ginny was flipping through an issue of Teen Witch Weekly. The room they were in was circular with a fireplace and a suit of armor on either side of the arched entranceway. There were several mismatched chairs scattered about as well as two couches and one large, round table that could easily seat ten people.
"Are you having an illicit romance, Sarah?" asked the girl with a grin. Harry made a strangled noise somewhere between a laugh and a cough while Sarah felt her face turning red enough to rival a tomato.
"No! No way!" she gasped after a few false starts. The mere thought was ludicrous. "Ginny!"
"What?" the younger girl laughed, sitting up abruptly, her magazine sliding to the floor. "If he's not a student that means he's either a teacher or he's not supposed to be on school grounds. Therefore, illicit!"
"What are you on about, Ginny?" asked a voice from the archway. Ron and Hermione entered the room, their badges reflecting brightly in the firelight. Thrusting himself into a chair, Ron dropped his bag onto the floor, the contents spilling out and making a mess of quills, papers and the crumbly remains of some unidentifiable food.
"Harry, you can't possibly know everyone at Hogwarts," Sarah protested, hoping logic and reason would help her declarations of innocence.
"No, but I'm pretty sure I know the older students by sight and I don't ever remember seeing him before."
"Ginny thinks Sarah has a secret boyfriend she's been meeting all over the castle," explained Neville helpfully to Ron's question. Sarah shot the boy a dirty look and enjoyed his startled recoil immensely.
She managed to hiss out, "He's not my boyfriend," before slapping a hand over her mouth.
"So, there is someone, then," Ginny practically crowed in delight. The redhead leapt from her seat and came to table where the excitement seemed to be unfolding. "Who is he?" She flopped into one of the chairs between Hermione and Neville, staring expectantly at Sarah.
"What's he look like?" Ron asked as he eyed the large pile of materials Hermione laid out on the table. "Does he have red hair, like me? Lots of girls find red hair dashing."
"Really? Is that why you've had so many girlfriends, Ron?" Ginny questioned in a sly tone. "I know I can't keep track of them anymore."
"I'm just choosy about who I snog, s'all, unlike some people I know," he wadded up a piece of parchment and threw it at his sister. Ginny ducked the missile and laughed at her brother.
"Quit teasing, Ron. He has blond hair, you know that," said the Head Girl abruptly. Hermione's voice was just loud enough to cut across the banter and bring the attention back to Sarah—exactly where she didn't want it.
"Oh, so you've seen him, then?" asked Harry, leaving the couch to pull out a chair at the table next to Hermione.
"No, we haven't, actually."
"Well," ventured Neville when it became apparent that Hermione was waiting for someone to ask the question, "then how do you know what he looks like?"
Ron and Hermione shared a look across the table and Sarah groaned.
"We had our weekly staff meeting an hour ago. Even with the extra security the Ministry placed around Hogwarts, with times being what they are, we've been told to keep watch for anything strange and out of the ordinary—and, well, your name came up, Sarah."
Feeling a mix of fear and embarrassment curdle in her stomach, she could only stare at Hermione. "What about me?" she finally asked.
"For starters, Davina Goshawk said she heard voices coming from a classroom late last Wednesday, but when she opened the door, you were the only one there."
The sixth-year Ravenclaw prefect had indeed interrupted them one evening. It had been storming heavily outside that night as the rolling crystal drew her from the library down to an empty classroom by the dungeons. Jareth had been waiting for her. A house-elf had delivered dinner shortly after she'd entered the room and before digging in Sarah had seen the little creature glance at the Goblin King from the corner of its (her?) wide eyes. Jareth hadn't paid any attention to the elf.
He was behind the teacher's desk, booted feet propped up and chair tipped back at a dangerous angle. He'd been rolling a crystal lazily from one gloved hand to another, a trick that never ceased to intrigue her, and talking about how the Ministry had arrested five goblins the previous week on trumped-up criminal charges. They were being held for questioning and weren't expected to be released anytime soon. Bodrig the Boss-Eyed, spokesgoblin for the Brotherhood of Goblins, was outraged at such blatant goblin prejudice from the Ministry and was calling for a gathering of support against the obvious tyranny. The wizard head of the Goblin Liaison Office, Dirk Cresswell, was having a difficult time with placating the goblin community and of trying to convince the Ministry that the goblins were not being recruited en masse to work for Voldemort.
"What sort of charges?" she'd asked from where she sat on a school desk at the front of the room, legs crossed and skirt modestly tucked down, sketch pad and pencil in hand. If Jareth was going to so obligingly sit there for her, she was going to draw him.
"Jaywalking."
She'd looked at him when she realized he was serious. "Is that possible in a community that doesn't use cars?"
He'd opened his mouth to answer but his face had twisted into a scowl and he'd glared at the door before suddenly disappearing. Davina had peered inside just as Jareth's tilted chair toppled to the floor.
The prefect had asked her what she was doing in the classroom with a meal for two and seemed suspicious about the answers she'd received. Apparently Sarah had annoyed the girl just enough that the sixth-year had felt the need to mention the incident at a meeting.
"Davina wasn't the only one to report something about you, Sarah. That crystal of yours has a very strong location charm on it. Several people have noticed you following it around campus."
"Is it illegal now to be in an empty classroom?" Sarah demanded. "I wasn't doing anything wrong and this is a huge castle, easy to get lost in. So what if I'm using a charm to help me find things? This is a school of magic."
"She didn't mean it like that, Sarah," Ginny tried to placate.
"I wasn't accusing you of anything, Sarah, not at all. I'm just telling you what we discussed at the meeting," Hermione explained. "Things are dodgy right now and people are jumping at anything unusual. Filch and two other staff members reported seeing you with someone they could never identify because he seemed to disappear before they got a good look at him. People got concerned."
"They don't need to be, I'm not up to anything," Sarah muttered to the tabletop. "Okay," she sighed, rubbing a hand over her face, "so what else happened at this meeting?"
"Well, after everyone had said their piece, Professor Dumbledore announced that he was aware of your companion, had known about him since the beginning of the school term. The professor also said he appreciated our concern and vigilance but we needn't worry about you or whomever you are with. He told us all that we should focus our attention elsewhere." Hermione paused and gave a little smile before continuing. "The other professors were rather put out that the headmaster had been keeping secrets. Professor McGonagall was particularly upset and demanded a private word with the headmaster when we left a few minutes ago."
Sarah stared dumbfounded at the Head Girl who was flipping through pages in the Herbology textbook with seeming indifference to what she had just announced. Ron commented into the heavy silence, "So basically, Dumbledore's given you permission to snog in the empty classrooms. You have all the luck, Sarah."
Ignoring the sudden laughter, Sarah reached across the table and flicked the boy on his arm, earning a very satisfying yelp. "We don't snog," she declared, "and we don't kiss or make out or anything like that."
"But, what are you doing?" asked Harry. "Why are you sneaking someone onto school grounds?"
"We just talk," was her cautious explanation. "Professor Dumbledore knows him and knew he was around, so I don't consider it 'sneaking.' He…my friend just wishes to avoid people."
Harry frowned but let the matter drop.
"So. You're having an illicit romance." Ginny said abruptly, tapping the table to draw Sarah's attention. "Is he cute?"
"Fairly attractive," Sarah admitted without thinking, immediately feeling her face flush. She hoped that wherever he was, Jareth was not at this very moment listening in on the conversation. He'd never let her live it down. Groaning, she slumped in her chair and laid her forehead on the table. Her voice was muffled and the others strained to hear. "Whatever our relationship is Ginny, it's not romantic in the least little way."
"Who is he, Sarah?" asked Neville. "Is he anyone we know?"
"No. No. I wouldn't see how. I mean, he's not a student or anything."
"Sarah, you do realize how dangerous it is to sneak someone onto school grounds, don't you? Especially now with Death Eaters around and Voldemort back in power?" A few gasps followed Hermione's words which she ignored. "Your friend could be put under the Imperious Curse or someone could be impersonating him using Polyjuice Potion. How well do you even know him?"
"Hey," said Sarah, mouth still pressed against the smooth wood, one hand coming up to wave in the air and punctuate certain words, "he comes and goes as he pleases, I have no control over that." She lifted her face, forehead slightly pink, and stretched her arms out on the table, cheek resting on her shoulder. She stared across books and papers, not really seeing any of them. "You don't have to worry about him, Hermione," she said finally, firmly. "He can take care of himself. He's not the enemy."
"Well, it certainly sounds like you fancy the fellow," commented Ron.
"Ginny, pinch him."
Leaning across the empty space between them, Ginny reached for her brother who hastily tipped his seat back on two legs to avoid her and ended up falling backward to the floor with a muttered oath. Ginny laughed hysterically while Neville tried to help sort Ron from his chair. Despite the levity of the moment, Sarah could feel Harry and Hermione studying her, their gazes thoughtful. She gave the two of them what she hoped was a thoroughly trustworthy smile and started gathering her things.
"Listen guys," she said, "I need to get going. I have to go…think over some things. I'll see you tomorrow." She slung her bag over her shoulder and exited to chorused calls of goodnight.
When she judged the distance far enough from the others, she fished for the necklace in her clothing and pulled it out. Twisting the crystal from the metal claw, she concentrated for a second on who she wanted to speak with (hoping he was lurking somewhere on campus) and tossed the small orb down the hall. The crystal bounced and rolled and grew to its normal size, moving in an unerring line along the corridor and around a corner.
Trailing after the little crystal, Sarah allowed her mind to mull over the conversation with the Gryffindors. With the surprise information Hermione had sprung on her, Sarah knew, just knew, that this was going to make her paranoid. She understood that the students were monitored, it's what teachers did. However, despite Professor Dumbledore's vote of confidence, she'd been labeled a security hazard and that meant her every move was going to be watched and questioned and mistrusted by the staff; and not just the ones who had been suspicious before. No, now it was going to be everyone—the faculty, the staff, the prefects, and she just knew this was going to get out to the other students as well. The Hogwarts gossip network was terribly efficient.
Sarah realized Jareth had his reasons for doing…whatever it was he was doing. Hanging around the school, keeping an eye on her and whatnot. She'd never stopped to wonder, though, why Professor Dumbledore was allowing Jareth to so flagrantly ignore school rules—and she had no doubt the professor was well aware of the Goblin King's movement about the castle. But now, their secret meetings were no longer secret and Sarah fretted over what troubles that could cause. Why were they secret? Jareth was going to a lot of trouble to avoid people about the castle just so he could talk with her. If it was merely conversation he wanted, that could happen with far less hassle in her dreams.
She hoped it wouldn't go back to that; Sarah enjoyed their spontaneous get-togethers. She was learning another side to the Goblin King—he was never all that he seemed. He could be cruel and cutting one minute and have her laughing at his sly humor the next. Though the first time she'd admitted it was just a few moments ago and it had been a spur-of-the-moment declaration, he was her friend. A capricious, slightly disconcerting friend who switched moods with frightening ease —but a friend nonetheless.
A couple students she passed in the corridors looked at the roaming crystal curiously and one even went so far as to try and stop it with his foot, but the little sphere swerved around the boy and Sarah hid a smile as she walked by the confused fourth-year. She followed the crystal up several staircases to the top of the largest tower where the Owlery was located.
Hundreds of owls, all types and colors, were housed in the giant room. At the moment, there were only fifty or so present, the others out hunting for the night. It was amid a flurry of feathers and bird droppings that she found him, lounging in a vast windowsill, one leg propped up, the other trailing down the outside of the castle, and an almost pensive air about him. He was stroking the breast feathers of a small, brown owl that was obligingly perched on his gloved arm, its eyes half-lidded and clearly enjoying the attention.
"Jareth?" she questioned softly, suddenly unsure of her welcome when he seemed so immersed in thought. His eyes were shut and he didn't bother to look in her direction but she saw a brow rise and he waved his free hand in a vague indication that she should join him. Casting a few scourging charms to get rid of as much icky stuff as possible, she set her bag down and settled onto the ledge.
She was a little nervous in her seat—while the sill was more than wide enough for her to sit comfortably, the lack of glass and the ground so very far away discomfited her. It was also a very open place for them to meet. Granted, she had been the one to go searching for him, but always before he had met her in a less open area where there would be a smaller chance of someone suddenly walking in on them.
There was a long moment of companionable silence as Sarah studied him, enjoying the languid elegance in his posture, the familiar feeling of his tightly reigned power that drifted along her skin, forgetting why she had wanted to speak with him. When he finally opened his eyes and focused on her, she caught her breath, sitting upright in shock. No longer were his eyes beautiful and changeling and so oddly enticing, constantly heavy with something she couldn't define or explain; now they were black—black as night, black as pitch, dark as metal and just as cold. She trembled where she sat and could not say why.
"Something wrong?" he asked in a voice that already knew the answer.
"Your eyes," she managed at last, unable to tear her gaze from him. "Jareth, w-what happened?"
Those threatening orbs drifted down to the owl and she felt infinitely better, no longer teetering on the edge of a great chasm fearing a push from behind and an endless fall into darkness. She felt cold stone beneath her fingers and glanced down to find her hands grasping at the sill, the press of rock against her skin helping focus her chaotic thoughts. "Someone," he began, his low voice startling her, "is about to wish away some unfortunate soul. My Labyrinth is changing," he paused, "and I change with it."
"But…only your eyes are different."
"This young man anticipates terror—not seduction."
Flushing at the low insinuation, she noted the smirk that found its way upon his thin lips.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"I could take whatever mangled, frightful form this child sees as a Goblin King, and it would not make a great deal of difference in the end. It is the eyes wherein the real horror lies."
"Then, you generally look the same for the people who call on you," Sarah mused hesitantly, easing back against the window embrasure. She picked at a small bit of stone with a fingernail as she thought over the situation and tried not to look at him. "And you know before a person makes their wish?" She answered her own question in a flash of belated insight, "Well, of course! The owl in the park, when I was reciting my lines that day. You were waiting for me to say the words, weren't you?"
"Yes." His voice was slow and contemplative as he explained, his hand still stroking the bird. "Most of those who make their wish think about it long before they actually say it. When someone voices their right words, I know all about them. Their dreams, desires, weaknesses, fears."
"So, the Labyrinth changes for each person? And so do you?" His nodded affirmation made her bold. She'd never asked before, but she'd always wondered. "Why do you do it? Grant the wishes of angry children?"
"Sarah," her name flowed smoothly off his tongue and he made it sound exotic and foreign, as if the plain, simple utterance was something far more than a mere word, "that is what I do. My purpose in life. My reason for being." His eyes rolled to meet hers and his gaze was cold and dangerous and made her want to cry and shrink away in dread because he was every nightmare she'd ever had, every bad thought, every cruel possibility that could ever happen, given a physical form to frighten her…hurt her….
Two owls flew between them, launching from their perches for the crisp autumn air and the joys of nighttime hunting. The flurry of wings broke the intense eye-contact and Sarah came back to herself with a shuddering breath. Ducking her head, she wiped away the tears slipping down her cheeks. Her hands were shaking and four painful crescents were quickly bruising on each palm. She drew her knees to her chest, wrapping her robes about her and huddled into the curved arch of the window.
She heard the soft sounds of his movement, felt the displacement of air as the small owl flew on silent wings to another perch. She watched from beneath lowered lashes as he knelt in front of her, hands grasping the ledge on both sides of her shaking legs, his face suddenly so close to her own. The pale glow of moonlight fell upon his features like a cloak, turning him into a shining being of half-light and shadows. He leaned over her tense form, his body a line of power and heat held tantalizingly just above her own, his pale hair mixing with her dark as he whispered into her ear, "I keep the balance."
The almost-caress of his lips against her skin and his quiet murmur, more warm breath than sound, made her flinch. He chuckled softly at her reaction, the intimacy of their positions spreading goosebumps across her flesh and sending a flush to her cheeks. She jumped when she felt a gloved hand touch upon her cheek. His thumb trailed along her jaw in a gentle movement that sent her emotions into a confused flurry. The gesture, so tender, did nothing to calm her nerves as the fear that had been coursing through her suddenly took a turn toward sharp desire. That feeling, the heady rush of pleasure that swept through and tightened things low in her body, shocked her from her frozen state.
Sarah scrambled out of her seat, batting his hand away from her and nearly knocking him backward in her panic. She wrapped her arms tightly about herself and crossed the Owlery, aiming for another window opening, one that looked upon a courtyard of overgrown ivy and weather-beaten, ghostly statuary, acutely aware of Jareth's disquieting gaze tracking her movement. He was terrible in his intensity and it took nearly everything she had not to flee the room.
She knew him as seductive, sometimes frightening and casually cruel—that was how she expected a Goblin King to be. Tonight, moments ago, there had been a hint at a more violent nature. Something lurked beneath that thin veneer of human form, far more dangerous and merciless than she could understand. She knew he wasn't human, not in that way, but she always forgot he wasn't bound by the same morals and strictures as mankind; didn't play by their Rules. She foolishly expected him to, and when he didn't, it always caught her off guard.
And this, this…. He'd toyed with her before, taunted and teased her in the Labyrinth, flaunted a sexuality she hadn't truly understood and didn't know how to respond to. But now, she comprehended his actions all too well, and the ease with which he'd rolled her, flipped her with one simple touch from fear to arousal, scared her more than anything else.
He was playing with her again, some disturbing game of cat and mouse, trying to see how far he could push her before she would flee from him or fight back. Whether she would go…or stay. Well, she wouldn't run, had never run—not from him.
Sarah took deep breaths to calm the beating of her heart, one hand pressing weakly against the damp stone of the wall and her forehead coming to rest just beside it. Twisting slightly, she peered from underneath the heavy curtain of her hair at the night sky and realized in some distant corner of her mind that the stars on this side of the world were not where she had expected them to be. They were in the wrong spot, a different part of the heavens. She'd traveled so far….
When she was sure her voice wouldn't shake, Sarah asked, "The balance of what?"
"Your friend Hermione is a Muggle-born witch, correct?"
Her head jerked back to him at the non sequitur and she was relieved to find him back to lounging on his side of the window. The little brown owl was just returning to its place on Jareth's arm and Sarah had to quash a sudden confusing emotion as she saw the Goblin King's gloved hand resume stroking the tiny creature. "I think so, yes. Why?"
"Hermione and I have met before, though she would not remember me. When she was young, a neighbor girl was watching her for an afternoon. This neighbor was a very dreamy girl who had been having a bad week and Hermione was a bossy little urchin who refused to do as the sitter demanded. The aggrieved teenager, having had enough, called upon me and wished her young charge into my care. The girl did not make it through my Labyrinth.
"Hermione spent her thirteen hours in my library and emerged only once to ask if she could have supper and if she was expected to use a chamber pot." Jareth stopped his speech and was quiet, his lips turning into something that might have been a smile. "In the end, your friend went home a witch and the sitter has spent the rest of her life with the disquieting feeling that there is something more to the world and she used to know what, exactly, it was."
Sarah blinked at him and found herself wandering back to his side of the room, determinedly quashing her nervousness. "So, you don't keep the children wished away?"
"No," he admitted.
Her mouth twisted briefly as she spat out a disgruntled, "Unbelievable!" She feared for a quick moment that he'd look at her and she would fall into that gaze again and be lost to madness, but he kept his eyes lowered and scowled instead at the owl on his arm. How the little creature was able to withstand his horrible gaze, she could only guess. The bird swiveled its head to give her a fierce look from where it huddled against Jareth's chest. Sarah glared back at it before returning her ire to the Goblin King. "I went through all the worry about Toby for nothing? You incredible jerk!"
"Think about what I said, idiot girl! The sitter went home a shell. Something less than she had been. As punishment for failing the Labyrinth she lost her belief, her dreams, her passion for life and everything about her that made her special."
"They were passed on to Hermione instead?"
"One could look at it that way."
Arms folded across her chest, she perched again in the windowsill, not as comfortably as before but determined not to show the extent of her unease. "Do people from wizard families call you?"
"In smaller numbers than Muggles, but yes. Those raised among magic know better than to make foolish requests. They know that there are things out there that cannot be seen or weighed or measured. Things that listen to the whispered wishes made in the secret hearts of dreamers."
"What happens to them?"
"The magical individuals who wish away someone and fail the Labyrinth lose their magic. Squibs, I believe they're called. As punishment for failing, they know about magic, but must forever wonder why they have none."
"What about the people who win? Professor Dumbledore said I wasn't the only one to have solved it."
"Surely you didn't think yourself so supremely talented as to have been singularly successful?" he mocked, the sly comment slipping out and reminding her of with whom she was speaking.
Sarah made a face at him, knowing he couldn't see it. "Well, no," she admitted, often having thought about it during the years after her adventure. "I mean, honestly, if I did it, then there had to have been people before me who solved it. I can't have been the first one."
"No, indeed. There have been dozens before you, hundreds perhaps, during the time I've done this."
"How long has that been?"
"Since the beginning."
"Of time?"
"Of wizards," he answered, his sharp tone making her feel foolish.
"Well," she shot back defensively, "how was I to know? You said you weren't born and that you've been doing it since 'the beginning.' What else was I supposed to assume?"
The brown owl that had been sitting so still on Jareth's arm suddenly gave a whole-body shake, its feathers puffing up and the eyes darting to look about. Sarah thought someone must have entered the Owlery and glanced sharply at the doorway, but it was only the two of them and some birds. The creature flapped its wings briefly and caught Jareth with a stare. Sarah was amused when she realized that the two were having some sort of private conversation. It figured.
Jareth stretched his arm out and helped launch the owl into the sky, its small form quickly swallowed by the night. His extended hand pulled a crystal from nowhere and he studied it briefly then tossed it up with a flick of the wrist. The orb hung suspended between them for an eternal second before tiny cracks marred the smooth surface and it fractured into a million fragments of light, the pieces falling harmlessly on both her and Jareth before disappearing. Sarah looked at him for an explanation, but the Goblin King was back to staring at the quiet world outside.
"What happens to the winners?" she repeated, ignoring his behavior. She would have questioned the oddness of it, but everything about tonight was striking her as strange.
"You know the answer to that." The languor was back in his voice, the words sounding low and heavy as if he couldn't keep up the effort of emotion. "You keep your memories; return home a wiser and stronger individual having triumphed over your fears and refused the offer of your dreams in order to do what was right."
"Is it really that hard for most people?"
"The Labyrinth was not made to be won. How often do you face your fears, doubts, personal horrors made manifest—and conquer them? Given the chance of achieving your dreams, all your heart-felt desires come true, would you take it or turn it aside in favor of something far less enjoyable?"
He was right. She had been faced with those choices, and done what needed to be done. It was the hardest thing she'd ever had to do. It would have been so easy to give up in the Labyrinth and cry about her situation. She could have run away from the challenges, from the strange creatures that barred her way, could have sat outside the gates and blamed Toby and her father and Karen for everything.
She could have taken the crystal, seen her dreams, and forgotten the baby. Could have danced all night in the arms of the Goblin King. Having her dreams and fantasies so close she could touch them, feel them, hold them, and having to say no, had torn her heart to shreds until she bled from the inside and almost drowned in grief.
It was only with the passing of time that her heart had mended and she realized while that opportunity was gone, she could move on; she would make new dreams, new wishes. She was living out one of them right now.
Biting her lip, she nodded to acknowledge the truth of his words. "And tonight," she asked, trying to steer the subject back to safer grounds, "is it a Muggle child or one from a wizard family?"
"The boy is a Muggle." Jareth's head tilted back to rest against the curved stone. "He has been having trouble with a bully; the older boy torments him at school. This dreamer is afraid of heights and being abandoned. He desperately wants to be a professional fútbol player." The Goblin King's voice was vague and Sarah had the impression that he was only half-aware of what he was saying. "He'll make his wish before midnight and I suspect it will be his eldest brother whom I shall have as my guest."
"But, isn't it the bully he should wish away?"
"His schoolmate is the one causing the most trouble, but the brother is the one who will provoke the boy into finding his words."
She pursed her lips to refrain from pointing out that the situation was hardly fair to the brother and instead asked, "You can tell how it will happen?"
"Magic," he murmured, "can do a great many things. My Labyrinth is changing as we speak, adjusting to his specific needs."
"Needs," Sarah repeated. "I never would have phrased it like that."
"It's true, whether you believe or not."
"You know, people wish for things to happen all the time. Random thoughts pop into our heads or out of our mouths, and we might wish for cruel stuff or nice stuff, but most of the time those wishes don't come true. We never mean half of what we think or say because we don't expect it to actually happen."
"It takes a real belief to summon me, Sarah, not just the recitation of certain words." He shot her a look from the corner of his eye and she shuddered under that sharp bit of his gaze.
Gladly looking away, she studied the interior of the Owlery and nodded, "Fair enough."
Sarah sat with him until it was time for curfew and she had to leave.