"Help!" she screamed. "Jareth! Alia! Get it off me! Get me away from this thing!"
Jareth and Alia sprinted down the corridor and skidded around the corner. Without pausing, Jareth sprang at the giant lichen, pulling at the eye stalks twined around Cara. Alia beat on it with her fists and kicked it. She landed a blow by chance on one of the eyeballs, causing the lichen to close and curl in that eyestalk to protect it, all the while muttering and moaning to itself in a faint, high voice.
"The eyes. Hit its eyes," Jareth told Alia, noticing the reaction.
Alia began pounding at any eyeball that came within reach, like some demented arcade game. The lichen whimpered and the tentacle-like stalks loosened their grip on Cara's legs enough to enable her to pull one free. She aimed a few well-placed kicks with her heel to join in the assault on the lichen.
Jareth concentrated on the stalk wrapped around Cara's chest and arms, alternating pummeling it and trying to pull it loose. Finally, it relented and released Cara's arms. Now they only had to convince it to release her foot. Jareth held Cara under her arms and tried to pull her free.
"Ow! No, don't! That hurts. It has my ankle," Cara said. "You'll have to get it to let go first."
"Well, kick it then," Jareth hissed. "I can't hit it while I hold you. Unless you'd prefer to hang upside down by your foot?"
Cara kicked at it while Alia tried to pry her other foot loose. Abruptly it decided it had had enough abuse, dropped Cara's foot, and retreated down the corridor.
"About time," Jareth muttered as Cara's feet dropped to the ground and he let go of her.
Cara sat on the ground, rubbed her ankle, and wiggled her foot.
"Is it hurt?" Alia asked. "Can you stand on it?"
"It doesn't seem to be hurt. Let me see." She stood up and gingerly put her weight on it. "No, it's fine."
"Good. Carrying you through the Labyrinth would be no picnic," Jareth commented.
"Gee, thanks," Cara told him. "Now what?"
"We keep going, I guess," Alia said.
"I'll lead this time, if you don't mind."
"Oh sure, Jareth. Blame me. Like I meant to run into a giant lichen," Cara complained, trudging along after Jareth.
"I never said that."
"No, but you implied it." She brightened. "That's all right. This way we get to blame you for the next mishap."
.….
The black cat streaked into the room pursued by a small horde of goblins for who knew what evil purpose. It passed near Tieran, who scooped it up and placed it on the other side of him in the deep window embrasure. Surprisingly, the cat accepted this rescue with no protest and sat nervously watching the goblins from behind Tieran.
The goblins clamored to have their prey back, adding to the general uproar in the room, but either the cat sat out of their reach or they lacked the courage to reach around Tieran.
Caereh sat on the throne in what she thought of as her Jarethian position – with one leg dangling and one spike-heeled boot propped on the throne's arm – and watched the antics of the deprived goblins. Waiting for things to happen out in the Labyrinth bored her.
Gradually, as the goblins either decided their plaything was not coming back or forgot about it altogether, they began to wander off.
"Oh, now, Tieran, look at them," she reproached him. "They're depressed. You've stolen their toy. Give them the cat back."
"The cat is welcome to go where it likes."
"Put the cat on the floor."
Tieran ignored her and turned his attention back outside the window.
"Don't make me make you do it."
Tieran turned his head slowly, raised his eyebrow, and said coldly, "I would never make you do anything." He turned back to the cat which had lain down now that the goblins had lost interest.
The cat allowed him to stroke it as it stared out the window. The computer had not quite reproduced the image of a cat, but it came closer than many cartoons and drawings he had seen. The soot black fur felt silky soft under his computer-generated fingertips.
When he considered it, he himself did not look quite right, either. The color of his hands was a touch off and their texture was too smooth. Still, he had dimension, took up space.
While Tieran observed these things, Caereh lost her patience and her temper, but directed her irritation at Hadrian instead of Tieran.
"Is it time yet?" she demanded, sitting upright on the throne.
"Only a few more minutes," he answered from above. Some time ago he had grown bored with his slingshot and had disappeared to find his own amusement elsewhere. When he returned, he had perched on the crown hanging over the throne instead of his chair.
"Good." She looked forward to her next activity. Watching Tieran look out the window at the fake landscape bored her practically to tears and the incident with the lichen had not lasted nearly long enough, especially for the way it ended. "Don't you wonder what's going to happen?" she asked Tieran.
"Happen? No, not particularly."
"Well, you'll find out soon enough," she answered as if he had expressed curiosity in the matter.
"I am sure I will."
Hadrian watched the scene from above and smiled. She was trying to control Tieran, just as she had tried to control him and she was failing just as miserably. But Tieran did not bother to disguise it as he did. Caereh's confidence in her plan was just beginning to wear around the edges. "How long will I be able to play her out before she breaks?" he wondered.
Caereh smiled and rose from her throne. "You see, I'm waiting for the Magic Dance scene, one of my favorite parts of the movie."
"I suppose you intend to dance and sing along?"
"Of course."
Tieran slid off the windowsill and threaded his way through the goblins across the throne room. Caereh watched him and then followed and intercepted him at the foot of the stairs that presumably led to the Escher inspired room.
"What are you doing?"
"This is not one of my favorite scenes from the movie. I thought I would look at the rest of your castle."
"Oh, really? Just like that?" She crossed her arms and tapped her foot.
"Yes."
"I don't think so. You're staying right here. You're part of it."
"No."
"What do you mean 'No?'"
"I mean I will not participate in your little fantasy. I will not dance, sing along, or gurgle like a baby. Have Hadrian help you."
"Fine. If you're not going to participate, you'll watch." Caereh turned Tieran about and pushed him back into the room as the music started.
Tieran gave up his idea of getting away from this noise and filth and looked for a place to sit. He quickly looked around the room and his eyes lit on the throne. If Caereh wanted him to stay, he would sit where he wanted to, namely, the place that would annoy her the most. He sat in the throne while Caereh kicked a few goblins into their proper places. She turned to find the usurpation of her throne a fait accompli. She had no time to complain, though, for the music had reached the point to begin singing.
"You remind me of the babe."
At this point Tieran missed a few lines, distracted by the comfort, or lack thereof, of the throne. "Now I understand why Jareth always sits sideways in it," he said to himself. "A stone bench is more comfortable than sitting straight on this." He tried to remember how he had seen Jareth sit in the throne to follow his example. Just as he got relatively comfortable, Caereh drew his attention again.
"Get rid of these goblins," she was telling Hadrian. "They keep getting in my way." Then she continued singing as the goblins vanished.
The cat on the windowsill took the opportunity of this demonstration of the art of prima donna to flash across the room and land in Tieran's lap. Tieran seemed to have made a friend.
"You'll be my baby, after all they'll try to do. What can they do? All his power is gone. That leaves just me and you. He's really through." As she sang this to Tieran, Caereh approached the throne.
Tieran frowned. He had not watched the movie often enough to know the lyrics, but those did not fit the storyline. Who was 'he'? Caereh walked around to the back of the throne, going into what Tieran had come to think of as "Caereh's seductive mode," and continued singing.
"What kind of magic spell to use? Microchips." She leaned over the back. "You'll kiss these lips." The cat in Tieran's lap growled and she moved away as she continued, "My future is brightening. And so I say. Dance, magic, dance..." She ran off to dance around the room to the music.
"Give a whole new life to me." She began to jump to the music. "Put that magic look on me." She stopped in front of the throne. "Grab my baby, make him see."
The changed lines were beginning to irritate Tieran. Obviously she had not gotten the message last time and still had designs on him. "What will it take to turn her off?" he wondered incredulously. "She is obsessed with this idea."
Caereh started on her next verse. "You're mine, baby, no matter what they all go through. What can't I do?"
Tieran added megalomania to her list of mental problems.
"His time has come and gone. Now it's me and you. All brand new." Then she launched into her chorus again, but let the computerized goblin voices finish it and told Tieran, "You sing the next part."
"I told you I would not participate."
"It's just this one section, only a few lines," she whined.
"Which section?"
"The slime and snails part. I thought you could say something like I did. 'Microchips. I'll kiss those lips. The future is brightening. So inviting.' Clever, isn't it?"
"Terribly," Tieran said, controlling his urge to grimace disgustedly.
"Here it is, your part. Say it, say it."
"What kind of magic spell to use," Tieran began deadpan, not looking at her and making no attempt to sing it. Then he had an idea and made direct eye contact as he said the next lines. "Sugar and spice. You are nothing nice. Thunder nor lightning. Nothing frightening."
Hadrian's low laughter from above could be heard over the goblin chorus. "I may actually grow to like this Tieran. Provoking Caereh like that! The element of surprise makes it almost as good as anything I could have come up with myself."
Caereh turned livid, absorbing what he had said. Tieran wondered for a split second how the computer knew how to react. He had no longer than that to think about it because Caereh delivered him a stinging blow across his face. Then he wondered if he would have a computer-generated hand print on his cheek.
"I hope not," he thought as he conjured cartoon images with brilliant red hand prints painted on his cheeks. Outwardly, he remained impassive, only moving to stroke the cat as Caereh stared at him for his reaction. He frowned mentally. "Why did I provoke her? To see what she would do? To see how far I could go?"
Hadrian's laughter soon broke through Caereh's rage and reminded her that he had witnessed the insult. "Don't just sit there laughing like a hyena, you fool. Get rid of this music. I'm tired of hearing it."
Hadrian, still laughing, did as he was told.