Chapter IV
The noise filled the high room like a cloud of bees, the expected result of a sizable number of goblins in an enclosed space. But as was always the case when the king spent time with his goblins, the goblin throne room was positively bursting at the seams, and ever more goblins kept trying to push their way in. This had already led to several fights as the goblins were more or less accidentally banging into each other, and so of course the gathering became even more attractive. The goblins were instinctively drawn to their king, and he always welcomed them to join him in the throne room. Jareth lolled on his throne in a rather haphazard fashion, one leg over the armrest and the other stretched long on the floor, with a wide-eyed toddler standing in his lap, held upright between his hands. With utter concentration the baby tried to snatch a strand of the goblin king's hair with its unsteady hands, kicking about with his legs.
With lightning-quick movement the goblin king lifted the baby up. "Now my pretty boy, you would not want to maim me, would you? I know countless ladies who'd never forgive you if your kicks actually made contact, you violent little creature" he chided the child with laughter in his voice. His merry voice stilled the child for a moment, the boy cocked his head and gurgled.
"That's quite right, my boy, I am most impressed that you agree with me - so young yet so wise already. You seem to understand instinctively that it is an excellent idea to be very accommodating to the man who will decide your future. Simply hold on to this thought. But now, let us see how your mother is faring." Jareth set the child down on his lap and conjured a scrying crystal between his fingers and held the ball before the boy's face, observing the mother's progress over the boy's shoulder.
"Your mother is doing much better than I would ever have expected, Omari, resourceful, strong and able to make friends quickly. But I should not be surprised, she's anything but a dreamy silly girl, don't you think? So much stronger than those witless girls that have been running the labyrinth for a long, long time. It is certainly time to waylay her to impede her progress, wouldn't you say?" With these words he threw the crystal high in the air, the shimmering globe turning into a brilliantly colored hummingbird which promptly flew out of a window into the labyrinth. As the toddler stared after the bird, Jareth began to sing to him, which distracted not only the child but all the goblins as well.
Goblins loved music, and whenever their king would sing for them, they'd hop and move to it as best they could, which in their king's very vocal and oft repeated opinion was very poor indeed. At least they didn't sing along any longer. He had quickly and ruthlessly curtailed them trying to join him, trying being the operative word. Jareth enjoyed singing for his goblins, but he felt having to endure their miserable attempts at a making tolerable sounds was more than anyone with working eardrums could bear. Jareth had thoroughly convinced the goblins that any venture to join him would not only lead to an immediate end of the song but also to an equally immediate dunk in the bog. It didn't take long until even the dumbest of them kept their mouths shut.
A small and frighteningly ugly goblin with a rusty colander on his head tumbled over to his king, proudly holding a banged-up trumpet nearly as big as himself. He had obviously decided it was time to accompany the singer, which he promptly did. Since Scri had no idea what he was doing, all he produced was a series of off-key sounds that only occasionally amounted to anything like a real tone, which did not faze him in the slightest. Most of the time he produced a racket that resembled nothing as much as noisy farts. He kept going even when his king had to stop singing because he was doubling over with laughter.
"Well, my little slayer of music, let me give you some advice: Don't ever try to play the violin," Jareth said between bouts of laughter. "I shudder to imagine the crimes against music you might commit with an instrument even more exquisitely up to the job. I am already astounded by the abysmal sounds you are able to extract from this hapless instrument. This is a case of extreme cruelty to trumpets."
The goblin was looking up at the king with adoration in his face. The king was talking to him!
"However, I cannot see why you would even need a trumpet for these noises, most of you are doing just fine without it. But let me tell you, Scri, this has to be the worst accompaniment I have had in all my life, bad enough for me to consider throwing myself out of the window to end the pain." The goblin's face was enraptured, the king was having a conversation with him, and laughing, and everything. Goblins weren't generally too demanding when interactions with their king were concerned - he laughed, his voice was gentle, so they knew they did well. At the beginning of their life they were a lot like dogs - what mattered was the tone, not the content, which they generally couldn't understand anyway.
So the beaming goblin proceeded to tell his king how he had found the fantastic instrument in the swampy borderland of the kingdom, and how there were many more interesting things, broken swords, metal shirts and lots of bones and stuff. Jareth smiled - the old battlefields in the borderlands kept drawing his goblins, luring them with enough shiny things to satisfy their magpie natures. But Scri went on how he hadn't liked it, there had been too many of the red-beaked crows, and he was afraid of meeting Babd. The king's face turned grim, but his voice was gentle as he encouraged the goblin to keep talking. Babd and her killing crows within his borders? A visitation of Babd always meant something. War came to mind. Scri's story was soon augmented by the tales of other goblins pushing close, telling their attentive king other stories of seeing the blood-beaked crows, or finding signs of struggle and death in the borderlands.
Being insatiably curious, not impeded by morals, scruples or enough imagination for fear, and possessed of magic to allow them to vanish unseen when necessary, goblins were born spies. The low regard they were held in and the unthinking ease with which everyone discounted them was actually an asset for their snooping. There wasn't a secret in the labyrinth they would not ferret out eventually, nor anything out of the ordinary that they would not entertain their king with when he spend time with them. With his goblins his eyes and ears, Jareth was as close to omniscient as was possible. He found it most entertaining, invaluable for ruling the goblin kingdom, and at times crucial for it's survival.
As Jareth looked around to see what had happened to the little boy, Omari, he saw one of his goblins lying on his back with his arms and bended legs in the air, the toddler's stomach on the bottom of his feet while he held the child's hands tightly in his. Pushing his legs up he propelled the child into the air for a moment before he caught the little body again with his feet. Squeals of delight filled the air. It was a sight that would have stopped any mother's heart. But no wished-away child had ever come to harm in the care of the goblins, for rude, crude and silly they might be, but clumsy or careless with helpless, living things they were not.
"Eek, what a lovely surprise to see you again," even the king's amused voice didn't break the goblin's concentration, he caught the child safely and set him on the ground as he rolled around. Omari, while disappointed in the sudden interruption of his foray into flying, immediately realized that there was another one of these fascinating creatures eating something. He crawled towards the new goblin and soon could be seen happily chewing on something that was most certainly unhygienic and, if his enthusiasm was any indication, very tasty.
"Oh my king, please, Eek is traveling, gone for long, I be many places, but want come see king, so I brung you present," Eek was staring adoringly into his king's face with a wide smile plastered over his face as he held out a rather clean hand. It was a lovely dagger, beautiful old dwarf work, despite its obvious age and some wear an exquisite piece of workmanship. Goblins always gave presents to their king as tokens of their love, but they tended to lack the ability to understand that what they found fascinating might not be to anyone else. And it rarely ever was. Jareth looked Eek over with approval. The goblin was maturing, not just some witless bit of wild magic any longer, he was becoming what he was meant to be. Still ugly and graceless, still awkward, yet now possessed of will, of meaning, of knowledge of himself, and the ability to feel with someone else. Jareth could always tell when his goblins became. In general however goblins tended to become when they were around their king a lot, he could see them slowly change from being no more than silly information-gathering sprouts of the labyrinth's magic to creatures of their own. But Eek had been around only very little for a good while, so he was obviously one of the very rare goblins that became while away from their king, one of the goblins that had the makings of being invaluable aides. Not yet quite there, however.
"Thank you for the dagger, my dear Eek," Jareth purred with careless malice in his voice. "So it would seem that you are vying for a position in my guard, are you? Daggers make meaningful presents, as I now realize you understand. I will make sure to put in a good word for you with my captain Sed. He recently told me that he feels I need more guards to protect my person, and since you are offering," at this Jareth burst into laughter at the little goblin's bug-eyed face. "But then again, perhaps you would not be such a good choice. I rather like my guards to be able to face blood without puking and to use their weapons without doing damage to themselves. Or me." It was downright pathetic to see the relief in Eek's face.
"But tell me more about your travels, they seem to have done you good." Eek told him a great many stories about the strange things people did above, and about all the things he had come across in the labyrinth without ever once mentioning the time he spent in the company of Sarah, or her existence at all. Had Jareth but known that the goblin kept secret from him his friendship with a human woman, he would have known that Eek had fully become. Eek was a part of the labyrinth, he belonged to the goblin king now and forever and would have laid down his life happily and without hesitation for his king, but he was the first goblin in eons to have bound himself to another but Jareth. It wasn't surprising that Jareth did not recognize this, as it had never happened in his reign.
But Eek had darker stories to tell. "What Scri say about Babd's crows in borderlands. They is in Simien mountains too, not only borderland. Eek see nightflock of blood crows hunt child there, but Eek hunt crows. Girl was labyrinth. Her father give me dagger, ask me give you, tell you. Much more dwarf in Simien mountain than before. Dwarf mine in Kuhmo always, but now many dwarf in Joensuu and Rovaniemi too. Many womans and childs, alone. They is taken in by dwarf of labyrinth, but not belong here. They is afraid."
Jareth swore under his breath. This was bad news indeed. Why hadn't he heard of this before? He knew the answer - the dwarves had magic of their own, and they used it together with their formidable strength and their ability to see in the dark to guard the big cave cities they lived in, a good thing if you were creating beautiful, shiny things that goblins loved to steal. His goblins did not like to hang about dwarves much, and it had never been a problem before - the Simien mountains were far away from the borders of the goblin kingdom and the powerful dwarves were sworn to the land, so why would he worry about them? This benign neglect had obviously been a mistake. Dwarves also tended to try to take care of their own problems without asking for help, and it seemed they were taking it too far this time. Eek's words told a bleak story. No dwarf woman was ever without males of her clan to guard her as women were held in high esteem among dwarves, and their few children were the treasure of the race. Any dwarf would risk his life to help a child. Womenfolk and children on their own meant no men lived. It stood to reason that their men had seen no other solution but to send them away from their homes to hoped-for safety, unprotected, while trying to cover their escape, and many of them had obviously not lived to catch up. Ardar Iforas at the winter borders of the goblin kingdom was the only demesne that had a sizable dwarf population. Lleu king of Ardar Iforas had engaged in violent attempts to win the goblin kingdom for himself before, and it seemed he was not beyond sacrificing his dwarves to his ambition, whatever his plans might be. While Jareth mulled over the news, other goblins pushed closer again, telling more and ever stranger stories.
"I have never seen him like this," thought the young fae who stood unnoticed at the entrance to the goblin throne room, watching the goblin king standing surrounded by goblins trying to catch his attention. Like all of his kind the young fae was tall and slender, his eyes the color of storm set wide in his strong-jawed face, silky honey-colored hair falling in a long braid down his back. His skin was unfashionably bronzed by sunlight, and his hands showed the calluses of use. He watched Jareth move through the tumultuous crowd loose-limbed and unguarded, with no thought of protecting himself, as relaxed and unwound as he had never seen the king. "I always thought you have to be fae born and bred to be at ease as he is, as confident and fearless. But only this is without pretense, real; at court he is wearing a mask as much as I do." This thought gave him the courage to move away from the door and throw himself into the throng to push his way to Jareth.
Feeling the labyrinth push his attention to the unexpected movement in the corner of his eye, Jareth gracefully turned to face the young man who had come closer. Without noticeable shift he was the goblin king again, charming, cruel, carefree and imperceptibly guarded, a man too arrogant and probably shallow to feel deeply about anything.
"I was not informed that you had returned from my father's court, Tobias, " Jareth smiled at the young man with real warmth in his eyes. "This means that you either have just arrived and could not wait to immediately pay your respect to me, a sentiment that I heartily agree with, by the way, or you have arrived earlier but are even better at keeping secrets than anyone else in this blasted kingdom. Not even my goblins have told me about your return."
Jareth embraced Toby and then held him at arms length to look him over. "My, but you have grown, my dear boy," he smiled with appreciation in his eyes. "If I remember the women at my father's court correctly you must have been told this before. And shown, of course." He suddenly reached out and took up Toby's braid. "And I see that you have been following my mother's entreaties, Tobias. She is such an admirer in long hair in men."
Blushing, Toby sputtered that his hair style had nothing to do with Eriu, and the queen had eyes only for the king anyway, yet as he tried to dismiss Jareth's teasing he entangled himself deeper and deeper.
Jareth threw his head back and laughed. "Eyes only for my father - you must think me a doddering fool. My mother is soul-bound, not blind, and as long as I can remember my father has refused to grow his hair. But do not think I begrudge her the company of adoring young men that will do as she asks them. As I imagine you have realized, my father does his best not to give in to her on principle. And on principle, she keeps trying to make him surrender to her."
"I think you are being to harsh, Jareth. My time at your parent's court was a precious gift, but still, it was a bit too orderly for me to stay there any longer. I was glad to know I'd come back here, even though I know I will sometimes miss it. Your parents shine in their court like sun and moon," Toby said with wonder in his voice. "But I rather lost my desire to ever find a soul-mate. Somehow the stories are much more seductive than the reality. I never thought love to be so all-encompassing, I felt exhausted just looking at them. They seem so attuned to each other, knowing about each others presence and state of mind without words or even gestures. And I disagree with your words, Eriu never asks your father for anything when it really matters, yet Cethur gives in to her whenever it does."
This time Jareth laughed out loud with real amusement. "You have become a clear-eyed observer, Tobias. Soul-binding is harder than most imagine. Being soul-bound does not mean that you are in agreement, or even like where your beloved goes. You are bound to another beyond time, but you have no choice in the matter. I indeed believe my parents are lucky to be so well-matched. My father has ever been a powerful man, determined, yes, stubborn a-times, and my mother is a true woman, willing to defer to him and let him lead where he may. Each of them fills a part in the other's soul that would lie empty without them." Jareth seemed lost in thought for a moment, but when he looked up he added with a grin: "Yet I simply cannot understand why anyone would want to restrict himself to one woman for all eternity if they ever had a choice - not, admittedly, that my parents had a word in the decision."
Toby looked at the goblin king cockily. "Oh yes, I have heard tales of your conquests, there are some lovely ladies at your father's court still pining for you. Your bother was at court for a good while and taught much about fencing, and gods, he drilled me black and blue, best swords teacher I ever had. Tiernan had an endless supply of stories about when you grew up together. They were an education in itself. I think I should take you as a role model."
"Do not believe everything Tiernan told you. He was the wild boy, not me, and I admired him greatly, doing my dumbest to impress him. I doubt I succeeded, but I am sure that our mis-spent youth does make for spell-binding stories."
At this point Omari had managed to crawl up to Jareth and studied his boots with great concentration, eventually grabbing one to the leather thongs and trying to stick it into his mouth. Jareth bend over and picked the child up, resting him easily in the crock of his arm.
"You're a real natural with babies, Jareth. This kid does not look as if it wants to go back to the above," Toby laughed at the charming picture before his eye. He doubted that many had ever seen the terrifying goblin king look quite so domestic.
"This is just as well," responded the goblin king, "since he will not be going back. The underground always needs more children, and I would be falling down on the job if I didn't take the opportunity as it offered itself."
"So, how is the runner doing?" Toby asked curiously. All those many years ago, in his other live above, his sister had told him about the underground, about the race through the labyrinth to save him, and even though he had thought it but a story, it had staid in his mind, to his good fortune.
Jareth turned his hand gracefully and created a crystal showing the young girl running for Omari's freedom. She looked twelve, a malnourished twelve that is. Her rich bitter-chocolate skin had a grey tint from hunger and exhaustion, her eyes huge in her proud, sharp face. With her a shy kushtaka, in its otter form, leading the way, looking like a furry wave as it ran sure-footedly ahead, drawn to help and love her by the scent of a pure heart. Less than two hours left, yet against the goblin king's true attempts at impeding her progress she had fought her way to the outer ring of the city in the heart of the labyrinth. Jareth smiled at the girl's reflection in the crystal in admiration.
"His sister wished him away? She seems real determined to get him back," Toby said a touch hesitantly. "I thought running the labyrinth is a test for the wisher, and if they truly want the wished-away, they will always win? You once told me that the ones who didn't truly mean their wish are the only ones that put up an honest fight for the wished-away. The others who really don't give a damn about the wished-away never get to the city. But there she is, so this kid didn't know what she was doing, did she? Why are you going to keep the baby? How old is she, anyway?"
"Her name is Makemba," Jareth said quietly. "She will be fourteen in five months. She is his mother, not his sister."
"What.. mother? But .. that boy is at least a year, I mean, how could she be his mother? I guess you are right - she deserves to loose him," Toby said, suddenly disgusted at the girl.
Jareth looked at him with a cold smile. "The men who raped her did not care that she was a young child only, unluckily just old enough to have started bleeding," he ignored Toby's sputtering as he gazed into the crystal. "When she came to and managed to make her way home hours later to find comfort in her mother's arms, she found her village burnt, her parents slaughtered, blood on her mother's legs as on her own." He looked down on Toby's pale, shocked face. "When the raiders came, her mother put her seven month old baby girl into the arms of her four year old brother and told the boy to hide in the bush, away from the village, to be quiet and not come back until he saw a familiar face. So Makemba came back to death and despair, and her little brother and sister came to her for comfort and love. She has been the mother of her family ever since. They eat even if she doesn't, she does whatever is necessary for their survival."
"But - who would do something like that," Toby burst out in wide-eyed horror.
"Soldiers, rebels, neighbors, who knows or cares," Jareth said with a grim expression on his face. "Humans."
He threw the crystal against the wall in sudden fury, where it broke into silvery dust. The goblins looked up for a moment, but decided that their king wasn't angry with them, and went back to their own business.
"Makemba is a mother, but she is a child still. She is mine, as is her son. And so are her siblings who call her mother. They will be fae. Such a loss for the above," he suddenly smiled with true joy, "but they never care. In the underground, she will be what she is, a lady true, and valued." He turned to Toby, a sardonic smile on his lips. "Above or underground, know that nothing is at it first seems, Tobias."
"Forgive me, Jareth, I spoke without thinking. I am fae now, for so long, I forgot about the Above. I used to know, but ..." Toby looked up at the goblin king's face, his face closed. "I never asked, but what happened to that ... man?"
"If you ask me again, Tobias, I will tell you exactly what happened to him, but you may want to reconsider your request. I doubt that you would like what I should tell you. But you may rest assured that he paid for all he had done in his life, and planned to be doing, in the short time that was left to him." To Toby's eyes, Jareth had never resembled his goblins more than now, his crooked smile wild and untamed, wild magic without constraints, self-satisfied and cruel, content in the knowledge that he had visited vengeance on those deserving of it.
Toby thought for a moment, then he grinned, with an effort but a grin still: "No, I think I don't need to know the exact circumstances. I believe you gave me all the answer I needed. Thank you." Before he could change his mind, he went on determinedly: "I have been very happy at your parent's court, and I am grateful you fostered me there. But I missed the labyrinth, my friends, even the goblins. I want to swear fealty to you. I have thought this through for a very long time, and I know that this is what I want." He waited with bated breath for the answer of the goblin king.
"I do not accept a blood oath from one as young as you, as I am sure you know," Jareth said with a smile that was as final as his words. "Swearing fealty will bind you for the rest of your life, and you can never turn back. My goblins will never be welcome anywhere else, if they could ever be persuaded to leave in the first place, and most of those who are sworn to me would not be wanted anywhere else. You, however, still have the choice. Every court in the underground would welcome you gladly."
"In the above I would have died of old age already," Toby answered with some heat. "I am well neigh a hundred years old, and while I know this is nothing compared to your years, I have experienced much."
"Your very words prove me right, Tobias. In the above you would have died an old man, but you would have lived as a human and experienced the creeping loss of your future, the shortening of your time, you would have learned to face the end of all possibilities. You would, as humans do, learned to accept the limitations, enjoyed the beauty of existence while accepting it finite state, you would have loved and lost. You would have become wise. Wisdom comes much slower to us in the underground . You have never loved a woman as you will one day, you have never been a parent, you have never lost anyone you loved. You are young and impatient, fae to the bone. Too young to swear fealty."
"So how long until you will consider me old enough to know my mind?" Toby asked quietly.
"Among our kind you will come of age with thrice the years you have lived, as I am confident you know. So I wonder why you are asking, Tobias. Pray tell, what is it you have not told me?"
"When I left the court of Danu to come back home to the labyrinth, I went to the Nephilim."
Jareth's eyes widened. "I am not going to ask you a pointless question like how long you have been there, but I wonder why you believe this excursion matters in our conversation?"
"I have always known I belonged to the goblin kingdom, and yes, I knew at what age I'd reach my majority. War is coming. I can taste it like ash in my mouth, I can feel it like a blade rasping on my skin. I do not want to sit on the sidelines, useless to the place that is my home. I know you think I am too young and try to keep me safe. So I went to the realm of the Nephilim. They taught me sword dancing. Shemyaza tells me I will never be as good as you are, but he believes I am doing well enough to allow you to test my mettle. Time passes not among the watchers, but you know what it takes to learn sword dancing. I am of age, and more."
As Toby told his story, Jareth's brows rose higher and higher. "So you meant to trick me, Tobias," he purred silkily, "Trying to exact a promise from me under pretense, lying, cheating, betraying an old friend for your own personal gain, now did you not?"
Suddenly Toby found it hard to breath, the goblin king was radiating menace, and fear began to grip him. It took all he had not to tremble as he kept his spine straight and his eyes on Jareth's face as sweat began to run down his body. Perhaps he should have actually asked Tiernan about his plan and not just assumed it would work because it was something the young Jareth might have done himself.
With an unexpected laugh Jareth pulled the young man into an embrace. "Well done, my boy. Even though you still need to learn much, you already have many of the qualities I am looking for in my personal attendants. I can see that you may be most useful help in the war that is brewing, for you are right, death shadows the land." Jareth gave Toby a wryly amused look. "Did you think I was going to drop you in an oubliette and forget you for the next two hundred years?"
Toby gave him his best devil-may-care grin. "I admit, the thought did cross my mind for a moment."
"I am glad to hear you were not sure what I might do. But really, now I'd much rather know how you fared with the Nephilim, Tobias. You are right, if you have learned even the fundamental forms of the sword dance, you have well passed your majority. A stay in their realm is ... let us say, a challenge. There aren't many who can bear a stay in the Nephilim realm. It is astounding how long no time at all can last."
"Shemyaza said you have danced the swords with them for .. damn it, they don't even have the word. Nothing prepares you for existence without time, I am not even sure you can call it life. I was dizzy most of the time with them, if you can call it that in a realm where time does not exist. Everything shimmers in eternal immovable change, and I just could never get used to it. I mean, at some point you simply accept that every creature you look at flickers from unborn to decaying in an instant because without time everything exists at the same time during, before and after life, but I found it very disturbing to see the mountains be there but not at the same time. That's probably the wrong word again. I could never get used to the idea that mountains exist in time as well." Toby looked at Jareth sheepishly. "I ended up spending a lot of time with Penemue. She is the most beautiful creature I have ever seen, and likely ever will, unchanging in eternity, which also means like all the Nephilim she is didn't give me a constant headache. I can't understand why you would ever go there willingly, Jareth, but they consider you a friend, and speak of you well."
"So your time with the watchers was a true sacrifice for the labyrinth, was it not? I believe you have well earned the right to swear fealty, if this is what you truly wish. You are young still, Tobias. We fae are immortal, un-aging unless we meet an untimely end through violence. But our immortality is bound to time nevertheless. We are like fish in water, surrounded by time, unable to imagine existence any other way. We are born, we age until we decide to not to, and our years are gathering on us. Everything has a yesterday and a tomorrow. I can reorder time, an exceedingly rare gift to be sure, if necessary to reach the above, yet I am bound to time as much as anyone. I find it restful to visit the Nephilim - the watchers know all of me, all my yesterdays and tomorrows, and their steadfast friendship tells me that I am, all my life, enough of the man I care to be - no watcher has ever befriended those who are evil and careless of life and their obligations. But I understand what you mean, Tobias, living without any sensation of time is disorienting. Any moment is less than a heartbeat but also eternity. How can you tell the difference?"
A look at Toby's lost face convinced Jareth that the young fae did not understand. Yet. "You know, Tobias, I believe the watchers occasionally feel the same way about time as we do about the lack of it. They do not understand time, but they are intrigued, and curious, and they want to experience it. The Nephilim live outside of time, yet they are masters of the sword dance which has a distinctive beginning and an end. One wrong move and the sword could end the dancer's life, and it cannot be predicted if this move will happen. Dancing is as close as they may ever come to experiencing the passage of time." Another glance convinced Jareth that this conversation might have to be postponed for a few hundred more years for all the good it did Toby.
A sudden hard yank on his hair brought Jareth back to the right now and here. It seemed Omari had no inclination for philosophical conversations either, which brought back more pressing matters to his mind. With a grin, Jareth called out to Eek and handed the boy over to the little goblin's safekeeping. He knew the child would be well taken care of.
"You can shape-change, Tobias? What is your bird form?"
"A sparrowhawk, but ... where are we going, Jareth?"
Jareth moved towards the windows. "I need to have a little chat with Makemba and convince her that coming here with her siblings is in her - and their - best interest. And I had rather planned to bring you to a quieter spot for your oath. But by all means, let us do it here if this is what you want. It may be more fitting than you can understand now to swear fealty surrounded by my noisy goblins."
With a grin Toby ran by him to the window and called out over his shoulder: "I bet a sparrowhawk can outfly a barnowl, don't you think?" He jumped over the window sill in one smooth jump and turned into a fierce little sparrowhawk midjump, catching the wind with a shrieking ke-ke-ke. With a graceful leap Jareth followed him and turned into a stunning barn owl midfall, catching the air under his wings. He beat his powerful wings and flew towards the outskirts of the goblin city, closely followed by the sparrowhawk who managed to keep up with him despite being but half his size.
/
Flying was exhilarating as always, free from the bindings of the body he rode the wind effortlessly, enjoying the gentle caress of the wind and the soft touch of the sun's rays. Can you feel anything different about the Simien mountains? Has the dwarfs' touch in you mind changed?
The labyrinth, bound intimately to Jareth's mind, shared the thoughts of its chosen as they occurred and answered immediately and in obvious distress. Worry, self-reproach, apprehension - BUT I FEEL NO CHANGE, NOT ATTEMPTS TO INVADE, NO ENEMIES IN THE DEMESNE. NO BLOOD OF MINE WAS SPILT IN THE MOUNTAINS. I FEEL MANY IN THE MOUNTAINS NOW BUT THEY ARE NOT MINE OWN, LI KNOW THEM NOT. NO ENEMIES THEY ARE, BUT FEARFUL. THEY WILL BE MINE ONE DAY. I HAVE SUFFERED THE TOUCH OF WHITE BABDH, BUT ONLY IN PASSING. SHE DOES NOT DARE TO COME AND STAY, FOR I WOULD DRAIN HER. I HAVE FELT BLOOD SEEPING INTO MY SOIL BUT NO BLOOD OF MINE OWN. YOU HAVE SEEN ALL I KNOW, THE SHADOW OF WAR LOOMS, BUT I KNOW NOT WHERE THE DARKNESS THREATENS.
The owl called out a rasping screech. How could you have known? Do not worry. No attack on our people yet but a plot is brewing. We will watch, we will be ready. When have we ever failed? Tomorrow and the days to come I will fly over our kingdom. Share my mind, and let me share deeply in yours. Together we will find out what has changed, what tries to move into our own. Who can beat the both of us?
The power of the labyrinth was immense, but then so was the entity which called itself labyrinth. A sentient being whose body was the physical labyrinth itself, it was created wholly of wild magic and ever changeable; the physical touch of the beings living on the labyrinth were neigh intangible to it. The labyrinth felt the touch of the dwarves cutting deep mineshafts into the ground as a pinprick, it felt the wind blowing over the wheatfields of its plains like a lover's breath on its skin. It could only perceive of the miniscule life living on it through the light touch of their magic, through the blood oath that irrevocably bound the goblin kingdom's citizens to the labyrinth. The labyrinth had conceived of the goblins as its eyes and ears, sending them out to mingle with life making its home in the goblin kingdom, but where the goblins could not give information it had to rely on magic. The labyrinth could feel the death or torment of those sworn to it, and any oathbound could in dire circumstances touch their mind directly to the labyrinth. It could feel the presence of those not sworn to it, but not much more. Limitation of scale was a problem when you wanted information from the labyrinth, as Jareth had learned early. But between the labyrinth's power, at his command whenever he needed it, and his own shrewdness, they had always come up victorious. Yet only for the labyrinth's chosen the binding was mutual, both bound to each other fully to share thoughts, dreams, fears and hopes equally. What one knew, the other one did as well. But the exchange of information remained fraught with difficulties. It was ever a slow and uncertain process, best achieved over time in dreams and visions in the sharing of their experiences. It remained difficult to quickly and efficiently communicate information if not emotion. Jareth was not worried. What would be, would be, but he had ever trusted in their ability to outsmart and outfight any challenger, and he had ever enjoyed meeting a challenge.
/
Spotting the small body of a young girl drinking from a fountain in a dusty town square, Jareth swooped down on her and turned into his human shape before her eyes. Makemba's eyes grew huge and she backed into the stone embankment of the fountain. The kushtaka who had been lapping up water as well, hissed her surprise and turned from her otter to her human shape. Jareth looked her over with approval as the kushtaka, a compact woman with otter-sleek short hair the color of sable, tried to inconspicuously position herself in front of the girl.
"Step back, Daxkei'x of the Teikweidi, this is not to do with you. I shall not harm the girl. I must talk to her without distraction, but since you are her friend I will allow you to stand by her." With an impatient gesture of his hand he directed the reluctant woman to the side. The kushtaka opened her mouth as if to protest, but a sharp look of the king made her retreat. At least Toby had had the sense to remain a sparrowhawk and sat on the low branch of a tree, interestedly observing the proceedings. The runner girl had used the short intermezzo to gather her wits about her and stared unabashedly at the king. She could have hardly done anything else, he was a sight to behold, out of her darkest, most secret dreams and nightmares. He wore a beautiful black and silver kente cloth wrapped tightly around his waist, covering his legs to the knees, and what looked like a long stunningly painted leather vest. Pale silver bangles encased his wrists and ankles. His hair was near-white as the sun at midday, and his pale skin shimmered like pearls. His lithe, lightly muscled arms and chest seemed covered by scar tattoos the color of old ivory. They were disconcerting, different every time she looked, inescapably drawing her eyes. His mismatched eyes looked at her mockingly.
"I am nearly at the castle, and I will have my son back from you, you Yomboe bastard." Makemba would not admit that she was terrified of this ghostly yomboe lord, much taller than the stories had made her believe, but as pale and lovely as the moon. How could such as he be evil? She racked her brain to recall her mother's stories, but all she remembered is that the moon-colored Yomboe would not lie, tricksters they were, but true to their word. But what did it matter? He had her son, and she would not give in to her fear. She had to get Omari back.
"So if you win, little girl, what will you do then? Go proudly back home, where you cannot find enough food for him and the two others? What will you do when the rebels come, little girl? Do you think they will be more merciful this time than before?" His voice was as beautiful as all of him, clear and cold as ice, seductive and much to truthful to be listened to.
"My son will not be an adze, never," she cried, "you will not have him as one of your creatures."
"I have enough goblins, my dear, and I do believe Omari has a greater future than that. If he has a future at all, Makemba," he went on inescapably, his poison words never allowing her to ignore him. "What will your son become, Makemba? Will you be able to send him to school? Or will they steal him for a soldier, to kill and to rape and to die young and ignorant in the frontlines? Will your little sister suffer the same as you have? For you know that there is no protection in your world, you can keep them safe no more than your parents could keep you safe. War is ravaging your country, Makemba, don't you hear the anxious whispers of the elders? You know that someday the men with the weapons will come back, for you, for your kin, and they do not care about love and they know not about responsibility and obligation. But you can save your own, Makemba, you can keep them safe, and you can be safe yourself, child. Wish for you sister and brother to join you and your son, wish them to safety," Jareth voice became more urgent, more seductive. "Do you not want to learn, be safe? Do you not wish for your children to grow up with a future, not just fear?"
"How can I believe you," cried Makemba, tears running down her face. "Everything in your labyrinth is a lie, a trick, every guide sent me the wrong way, every turn I took twisted back on itself to hinder me. How can I play with my children's life when I cannot know to trust you? You turn the roads, we have walked here for nearly an hour and haven't gotten any closer to the castle. I know you can keep me and Omari here if this is what you want, but why should I deliver my other children to you? What will I wish them away to?"
Before Jareth had a chance to answer her, the sparrowhawk flew from the tree and shifted to his human shape next Jareth. "But you don't understand," Toby said, unable to contain himself, and leaned towards the girl earnestly. With a sigh, Jareth looked at the young man and with a flick of his wrist was back in his usual outfit of tight breeches, leather boots and a loose shirt. He moved back to the edge of the fountain and sat down next to the kushtaka Daxkei'x, sharing a grin with the woman. Nothing could stop the actions of heartfelt conviction of the young, so better go along with it.
"I was like Omari," Toby told the spellbound girl. "My sister Sarah had wished me away when I was just a baby and like you, she ran for my freedom. She won. You see, Jareth does not steal children, he saves them."
Jareth grimaced. Ah, to be so young and dumb again. He could practically feel Daxkei'x highly entertained grin. Now there was a story all the magic in the world would not be able to suppress. Toby made him look like a wimp.
"The runners are not tricked, they learn the lessons they need when they run the labyrinth, and the goblin king only keeps those children who were truly wished away, you know, the children that are not wanted. He never takes the children that are wanted."
"But you are here, so he did keep you," Makemba said, finding the weak point of his story immediately.
"Sarah won me back and took me home. He did not keep me. But when I was nine, a man dragged me into his car as I was walking home," Toby said with a voice like lead. "I was so afraid, I was crying and fighting, but he just laughed and hit me hard until I was to dazed to fight anymore. I don't know where we went, but eventually he carried me out of the car and brought me into a small room with only a bed. I was so afraid, I could not even stand up any more, I was cowering in a corner. I was a kid, but I was not dumb. I knew what would happen. I kept telling him that my dad, or my sister, or somebody would come and save me. I got more and more terrified as he started to undo his belt and pants." Makemba was ashen as she put her hand haltingly on Toby's arm. He smiled at the girl, looking haunted. "Sarah had told me stories of the underground when I grew up, and I could not even think straight any more when that man walked up to me, half naked, and I screamed the first thing that came to my mind, something along the lines of 'I wish the goblin king took me away and saved me and that he would punish you', not quite these words, but definitely the spirit. Well, he did. And you know, Jareth did not have to come, he came because he wanted to help me. Now, I had phrased my wish in a way that I couldn't go back, and so I stayed here. Jareth gave me parents who loved me, he gave me a home, he gave me a life that I would not have had any more in the above," and Toby ran out of words. One glance at the girl convinced Jareth that the young man's heartfelt words had won the girl over.
"But why do I have to wish my other children here?" Makemba slightly stressed the word children.
With a flourish Jareth decided to re-join the conversation. "As you quite correctly observed, I can keep you and Omari as I please, but Eshe and Tumelo are above. My power does not extend into the human world unless I am called to it. I have not been called for them, so you have to wish them to me. Yet once you loose the race for Omari to me, you belong to the goblin kingdom by the rules of magic. And then you cannot call for them any longer, since you do not belong to the above any more. Yet at present, you are still a human from the above, but a visitor to the underground, and your words have power. If you wish the children to join you, I can bring them here, but not otherwise."
With a determined face Makemba grabbed his arm. "Swear to me that you mean my children no harm, that you will take care of them the same way the young man said."
"Tell me, child, do you not have a wish for yourself?" Jareth smiled down at here as he loosened her death grip on his arm. At his questioning glance Daxkei'x moved to stand to the right of the girl and Toby to her left. Jareth took a step back and bowed deeply before Makemba's. He pushed up the silken sleeves of his shirt and extended his right hand palm up. A swift movement of his other hand, and magic slashed a deep cut in his right hand, blood of the brightest scarlet like heart-blood welled up and quickly overflowed the cup of his palm, dripping to the ground. "I call on the magic of the underground to bind me by my blood to my promise to the human girl Makemba Ngouabi. The kushtaka lady Daxkei'x of the Teikweidi stands as the human's witness as the fae lord Tobias O hEachtianna stands as mine." All sound around them had died, they stood enclosed in a circle of stillness. Where Jareth' blood mingled with the dust on the ground, small grayish-green leaves began to unfurl on the earth.
"I, Jareth ap Cethur Mc Greine, chosen of the labyrinth, king to the goblin kingdom, swear on my name and on my blood that no harm shall come to Makemba and her kin by my commission or omission. I cannot promise happiness, for it is not in my power to bestow such a gift, but all of them will ever have the right to call the goblin kingdom home, and they shall never lack a roof on their head, a bed to sleep in, food on the table and companionship. I swear that should it be necessary I shall defend their lives and extend my protection to them as if they were my own kin."
Daxkei'x and Toby looked at each other with a stunned face. The king had extended the fullest possible hospitality to the girl and her family. Before either of them could say anything, Jareth folded his hand over the cut and opened it again to show a perfectly healed palm. He grinned at the girl impishly and asked with some exasperation in his voice: "I hope this suffices, for I do not know how else I could convince you that I mean you no harm. So, are you going to wish your siblings to join you? I believe at this point Omari has managed to wreck sufficient havoc among my goblins that they wish to return him to his mother as quickly as possible."
Makemba smiled at him for the first time, shyly, and then looked embarrassed to the ground. Her eyes widened in surprise as she beheld the lovely plant that had grown where Jareth's blood had wetted the dust. Seven to eight knee high tubular leaves grew from the ground, shaped like a rolled-up paper cones in the palest silvery green, patterned in a lovely blood-red mosaic styled outline. The opening of the cone-leaves was covered with overhanging leaves in pale greenish silver. From the middle of the leaf clump grew a single long-stemmed flower a good two hand-spans over the leaves, stunningly intricate and created of multiple whorled petals, blood red with a silvery-white edge to each flower leaf. It was probably just as well that she did not recognize it for the carnivorous plant it was, yet it was an apt flowering of the goblin king's blood - beautiful yet dangerous. Nothing is what it seems indeed.
"I wish the adza brought my children to me right now," Makemba said, eyes pressed shut and her body tight as a whip. The sudden delighted shriek of Omari at the sight of his mother made her open her eyes to see the little boy straining to escape from the determined grip of a goatish looking creature that didn't really seem like a nasty adza but rather something else, not evil but only wild and mischievous. Even as she ran to pick up her boy she noticed that Omari was not afraid of his minder and had been held tightly but gently. She smiled at the ...goblin? Not adza then, goblin. Part of her home now. She twirled with the boy in her arms and just managed to see some other ... goblins appear in the town square with Eshe and Tumelo in their arms, the children too sleepy and surprised to show any fear at all. As the young girl kneeled on the ground, holding her children in a tight embrace, she looked up at the goblin king with a smile much older than her years. "Thank you, my lord. I am in your debt forever."
In much less time than could have been expected Jareth had managed to organize the little party, ruthlessly roping in Toby and Daxkei'x as nursemaids to two tired, overwrought and utterly charmed and transfixed children that could not keep their hands off their minder's hair, and transporting the little group to the fae clan he intended Makemba and her kin to be adopted into. He knew the horse clan close to the kushtaka territory would be a perfect fit for a half-grown girl used to being on her own. While none of the puka clan would begrudge her either her independence nor the responsibilities and rights she had earned in her short life, she would also learn that she was not alone, and that there were loving hands willing to share her work, and loving hearts wanting to share her worries and burdens. She could finally learn that she belonged, and did not need to stand alone against the world any more. It took a good few hours before Jareth and Toby were able to disentangle themselves from the ecstatic puka clan which was beyond overjoyed that their king had blessed them with not one but four children to take in. The puka had never spent much time at court, but Jareth knew them well, as he did all of his subjects, one of the advantages of near immortality. They would be good for Makemba and hers, and they for them. He did not care for else.
/
It was but a short hour before sunset when Jareth finally was able to leave Makemba's new home with Toby. His magic transported them to the other side of the goblin kingdom, the Simien mountains red as blood in the evening sun, the small valley they stood in still bathed in light. It was a beautiful spot, water gushing down the mountain side falling merrily over rock outcrops and finally into a small lake at the bottom. The air was heavy with the sweet scent of spring flowers and the lazy sounds of a breeze whispered through the crowns of the sanctuary trees. The many-eyed guardian creepers grew abundantly on the rocks, along the water's edge and up the broad trunks of the sanctuary trees themselves, ever watchful, ensuring that the labyrinth's peace was held in the sanctuary as decreed by the goblin king's laws.
Toby looked around in awe. "The sanctuary trees are huge here, much bigger than in the hedge maze," he wondered out loud. "I guess they need to be taller here so any wanderer looking for a safe night's sleep can find the sanctuaries. You know, Jareth, I have never been in the Simien mountains? It is beautiful - I never knew that the rock is blue. I somehow always assumed that the blue hue to the distant mountains was just a distortion of the color over the distance. Mountains in the above don't look like this. Are those moon-tears at the edge of the water?" He walked to the lake and kneeled at the edge of the water, his hands gently moving over the dense carpet of moon-tears growing in the mist of the falling water, the flower buds still closed in the daylight, waiting for darkness to open their petals to the moon.
As he turned back, he saw Jareth in the full goblin king regalia, dressed in night, beautiful and dangerous. He wore long boots of finest dragon leather over his narrow black breeches, a cuirass of black leather intricately worked by skilled gnome craftsmen, his medallion set over the heart, over the finest blue-black chain mail created of countless rings of cobalt, worked with magic to protect the labyrinth's chosen. His hands encased in black leather gloves, he was dark as a nightmare but for his pale face and the silver-white hair standing on edge with wild magic. Carelessly over his shoulders hung a high-necked cloak of silver-black spider silk, catching the slightest breeze to billow up like gigantic bat wings around him. "This is the last chance to have to change your mind, Tobias," Jareth's voice resonated with power. "Once you swear the oath of fealty to me and the Labyrinth, there is no going back. You will never be free of your oath, and there are places in the underground where you may never go because they do not welcome the citizens of the goblin kingdom. And as you said yourself, war is coming. If not now, then in the future. Swearing the blood oath may cost your freedom as you do my bidding, it may cost your peace of mind as you do things that you will never be able to forget, it may cost your immortal life which could last forever. Is this truly what you want?"
Toby swallowed as he walked up to the goblin king. He took his dagger from his belt, cut deeply over his palm and dropped to his knees, head bowed low. He did not know where the words came from, but he felt their truth in his heart, and lifting his glowing face to the goblin king he spoke them out loud as his blood fell to the ground.
"Here in labyrinth's sanctuary do I swear by blood and name and honor,
Fealty and service to the Crown and the Labyrinth.
To speak and to act,
To come and to go,
To serve and to obey,
In all such matters that concern this realm,
As requested by my liege;
In need or in plenty,
In peace or in war,
In living or in dying,
Until my liege depart the throne,
Death take me,
Or the world end.
So say I, Tobias o hEachtianna, on my blood, my name and my honor."
As he finished, he saw for a moment the joyful expression on Jareth's face before his mind was overcome by a touch too alien and powerful to understand or resist, and he fell over in a dead faint.
He came to an unfathomable time later to a full moon in the sky and an unearthly magical choir filling his ears. He sat up groggily from a warm blanket and saw Jareth, once again in his usual clothes and wearing a warm leather jacket against the night's chill. He was leaning against one of the sanctuary trees, his long legs stretched towards the crackling fire over which a hare was roasting, Etain curled at his side, having found her master with unerring sense and speed. A dire wolf was lying at his other side, head resting on the king's legs, its ferociousness stilled. Several pixies huddled around the fire and other creatures of the labyrinth were lurking in the shadows, a bean sidhe in her hag form at the edge of the fire's circle of light and several trolls dimly outlined further back. They were all enthralled by the magic woven by the voices of the moon tears and the goblin king, a song of love and belonging that included all creatures of the labyrinth. No other sound could be heard until the song ended.
"Back to the living, I see. I did not realize that the touch of the labyrinth would be so hard on you, young Tobias. I fear there was nothing to be done but wait until you would wake up on your own. I suspect you will be hungry, though," and leaning forward Jareth took the spitted hare off the fire and cut it with his dagger, putting a leg on a piece of bread which he handed to Toby. "My lady Blathnaid," Jareth bowed his head courteously towards the bean sidhe at the edge of the circle of light, "we would be honored if you would do us the great favor to sing for us. Your people are famous for your skill, and I am sure Tobias has never heard one of you sing." So the bean sidhe sang for them, and while Toby was grateful that it was not a lament, he was too busy devouring the hare to really care. Yet finally his hunger was satisfied and allowed him to listen to her, and he got up and bowed to the bean sidhe at the end of her song.
"I have never heard the song of the bean sidhe before, lady Blathnaid, but I will forever naysay those who try to tell me that you wail death, my lady. I know now it is envy that gave birth to these rumors, for your voice heralds sweetness and light," he smiled at the surprised woman who changed from hag to a lovely old woman in a heartbeat.
"I thank you, my lord Tobias, also in the name of my sisters," she smiled at him. "But do not judge those who fear us too harshly. We but give notice of death, we do not cause it, yet how can you blame those who learn from us that one they loved has died? Their pain lashes out, and we do not hold it against them. But I bid you good-night, young lord, " and she turned to Jareth in a deep curtsy, "and I thank you, my king, for sharing your song. Until we meet again, my lord." And with these words she vanished in the darkness.
"Come to the fire, Tobias, I believe you must have questions for me," Jareth's voice drew Toby to the fire, where he sat down next to the direwolf who lifted his head from Jareth's legs and gave him a wolf's grin. The huge creature stretched and put his head on Toby's legs, who looked at him with some trepidation and very carefully began to stroke the direwolf's head. "Why doesn't anybody know about the labyrinth? I mean, wouldn't we be much safer if the fae learned once and for all that none of them stands a chance to become king of the labyrinth by stealth or by force? You would no longer have to fight off the constant attempts for you power and your life once they understood that they can never fight you and the labyrinth."
"Ah, but they would never believe this, Tobias. Remember, I have lived for countless millennia and am not considered old by the standards of the fae yet I have seen what drives those of us who harbor ambition. I have perceived the world through their eyes once, so you will have to believe me that your conclusions are not the ones most fae would come up with. What you saw and know to be true is that the labyrinth choose me, not for its ruler but its companion. The labyrinth's magic is much stronger than any fae's power has ever been or will be, yet it utterly lacks ambition. It will not use its magic for its own gain but freely share it with its chosen, but yet it knows that its chosen will not use its magic for conquest either, because it would never choose anyone who desires absolute domination. I am the labyrinth, and the labyrinth is me. I am not truly fae any more. Now tell me Tobias, you have been at the court of Danu, and I have made sure you have visited many other courts, what have you seen that makes you think that we fae put value in beings other than ourselves? You know how too many fae look down on the other races; they use dwarfs as if they were but indentured laborers; they rely on brownies to keep their accommodations, clothes and food yet treat those very brownies as if they owe them gratitude for being allowed to serve them. They hunt trolls, hags, dragons or alraunes as if they were senseless animals, they incarcerate and exhibit as curiosities the lamia, the griffin or the centaurs, they send away in disgrace those who dare to love outside their kind."
Toby winced, while he did not like to think of it, Jareth was right. Even at the court of Danu, where he had felt at home and at peace, the fae had ruled supreme. Tiernan had been close to his dwarf guard, cared for him truly, yet it was the emotion we bear to a beloved pet, valued, often higher than others of our kind, but still inferior to us. Queen Eriu and king Cethur were beloved by everyone at court and treated everyone courteously and with care, but none but fae held any position of responsibility at all. The attitude towards the non-fae kindreds in Danu was that of a responsible parent to their young and irresponsible children, full of the conviction that they were not able to take care of themselves. And Danu was a good place to be for those not fae. Other places were not. In many fae demesnes Toby had visited other kindreds were really no more than servants without rights.
"Do you truly believe that those who look down on any but fae would see the labyrinth as anything more than a magical horse they could break and control? Too many of us believe that they are superior to all, no creature as the labyrinth could resist them. Do not the very races we often enough mistreat admire us? Does our charm not seduce even those who have reason to loath us? Lleu king of Ardar Iforas will never believe he could not charm the labyrinth into giving him its power if he had a chance to do so. The labyrinth and I want the fae to believe I am the most powerful opponent they ever had, on my own against them, and those who want to rule the goblin kingdom will be jealous but afraid. If they thought that my power came from the labyrinth, they would try out unexpected and unheard-off tactics, and they might well resort to dark sorcery to weaken the labyrinth to further their cases. I would find it much harder to predict their actions if they knew the truth." Jareth smiled at the expression on Toby's face. "And even if you will not believe me, Tobias, consider this: Since the first goblin king was chosen by the Labyrinth, through all the rulers that followed, none have broken the silence on the nature of the bond of the goblin king and the labyrinth. Many great fae have been in my position, and decided that silence is the prudent course. Even I lack the arrogance to consider my opinion superior to that of the wise and ancient fae that superseded me as the chosen of the labyrinth."
It was an argument Toby could not ignore as he lacked arrogance and understood that there was much he did not understand yet. But his first question answered, he inquired about many more questions his binding to the labyrinth and its king had engendered. Jareth conjured ale for them to keep warm and for hours patiently answered the young man's questions, Etain asleep next to him as the direwolf next to Toby, their conversation accompanied by the peaceful choir of the moon tears.
"It is enough, Tobias," Jareth finally declared. "It is but a few hours to sunrise, and I will need to be on my way early. This is what I need you to do." The goblin king looked at the young fae, brow furrowed in concentration. "I will be talking to the elders of the dwarf councils tomorrow, and I know I will learn all they can tell me. I am afraid it will not be what I truly need to know, however. You have an easy way with all kindreds, you even like my goblins. Hrafn Gunnlaugsson with whom you stole apples from my gardens has been entertaining the young people at court for years with stories of your adventures, I was always pleased to know you kept close to your childhood friends. You like people, and they tend to like you too. It does not surprise me, who dislikes a puppy?" With a grin Jareth looked Toby over. "I want you to go to the towns of Kuhmo, Joensuu and Rovaniemi, up in the mountains. Many dwarf women and children have come here for succor in the recent past, and simply I want you to talk to people. Find out what they ran from. Listen to their gossip about home - does Lleu have a new lover? A new toy? I want the stories that the refugees would not tell the elders because they do not believe them important, but the stories they tell to each other and their friends. What do they think that Lleu is up to?" A turn of his wrist, and he held out a leather bag heavy with coin. "I know this is a vague assignment, but I do not know the threat we face, and my goblins cannot gather information in the Simien mountains. I rely on you. If you need to contact me urgently, go to a sanctuary and spill a little of your blood on your ground, a few drops will suffice. I will come to you as quickly as possible."
Jareth banked the fire with a few words of power, laid down on the ground and wound his blanket around him. He seemed asleep in a moment. As Toby followed his example, he felt the warm body of the direwolf press against him. Though he had been sure he wouldn't be able to go to sleep, his breathing was deep and regular in seconds.