3

The better part of the morning was spent one moment pacing the wood floors, the next staring at her laptop. She at least had described her reaction to the stars last night. But then her mind had gotten hung up on one little phrase, "beneath the stars." One could walk beneath stars, stand, jump, skip if they so desired; one could do an infinitely number of things under stars. Yet none of them sounded quite right. With a frustrated sigh, she found her coat, picked up the walking stick, stuck a water bottle in her back pocket and headed outside.

The dirt road that led back to the main thorough far seemed like the best place to start walking. There were clouds far off on the horizon and a deep chill in the air. Perhaps that storm Mr Gaudfrey had mentioned was closer on the forecast. As cold as it already was the right storm could easily bring snow.

A mile down the road there was wooden post indicating a trail that was supposed to lead to a stream. Without hesitating she turned off the road and entered the woods. The forest floor was a carpet of yellows and reds. Sarah was surprised to hear the hum of electricity. There hadn't been any massive antennas or power poles sticking up out of landscape. Maybe someone was camping near by with a generator. She was glad for her walking stick. The humming ebbed and flowed as she walked, at times so faint she thought it had gone, and other moments so loud she felt it in her bones. When she heard the sound of running water, she picked up her pace, wanting to hear something other than the hum.

The path ended abruptly almost at the water's edge. Sun light bounced off a wide, shallow stream, warming her face. The hum was drowned out by the sound of the water. For a moment she stood there breathing in the damp earth, admiring the natural beauty, and then her moment was gone. Several yards away, calf deep in the icy water, stood a man. His brown breaches were splashed with water and his poet's shirt lay loose on his shoulders.

Sarah shuffled back a step, her heart pounding in her chest.

He appeared to be performing a moving meditation or T'ai chi. His arms swept round as he turned his upper body. The sun shimmered off gold wrist cuffs. The blonde head turned following the rest of the body's motion. The man stopped mid-pose, resembling a kung fu master, at the sight of Sarah on the beach. Jareth, king of the goblins, dropped his arms, and exclaimed, "What the bogwater are you dong here?"

Startled by not only his presence, but by the sound of his voice Sarah stammered. "Walking," she finally said recovering her self. "More importantly what are you doing here?"

"Standing," he replied putting his hands to his hips.

Sarah passed a hand over her forehead. She needed to collect her thoughts. His presence would certainly not be cohesive to her isolation, no distractions policy.

They glared at each other.

Suddenly Jareth threw his head back and laughed. "The universe must be toying with us! The odds of the two of us finding each other amidst such seclusion must be ridiculous." He relaxed his stance. "You have caught me in respite. And you?"

"Pretty much the same," she replied. She was smiling despite it all. For the first time in many years she was able to see him again. As always he never looked older than twentyfive. At least until one looked into his eyes: that was where he hid his age. Those irises were ancient. Sarah felt a shiver run down her spine. "Aren't you cold?" she asked indicating the water.

"Don't worry about me: I'm in my winter skin," he said simply.

Sara was struck with the mental image of Jareth swimming about like a great walrus. The extra blubber and bulbous nose were hideous at best. She managed to control her voice. "Oh. Well. Good."

He laughed again. "One of the many benefits of my ilk, very adaptable. Come- my things are further along the shore. Join me." He kept to the water where the silt was free of pebbles and debris.

Well Sarah Williams, she thought as she skirted a bush, never take an owl for an owl again.

She had certainly gotten exactly what she wished for. Jareth, the King of the Goblins was here and the two of them could have their much delayed talk. Now that she was face to face with him though she found that such words as interested, relationship, and feelings, sticking in her throat. It was like being in junior high again stealing glances at the cool boy you were majorly crushing on. Perhaps she could slip him a note: Do you like me, check the appropriate box. The piece of paper spattered with hearts and stars. She cleared her throat again.

At another beach there was a blanket laid out, a pair of boots leaned half hazardly against eachother, and a clothe sack. Jareth stepped nimbly from water to blanket. The word "breathe" was suddenly lost on Sarah as she witnessed him bending over to retrieve a boot.

"I had heard that you were on vacation," she said. "Never thought I'd find you here. Are you staying near by?"

He shot her a quizzical glance. "Yes," he replied. "I have a place a bit further down stream."

"I thought there wasn't a neighbor so close. Didn't see anything on my drive up."

"That's because it's not on this plain," he explained with a grin.

Magic. They were inside a thin spot in the veil where the two worlds could touch. "That would explain the humming," she said with a nod. Magic was a force and when it was activated, say by the presence of a certain fae king, it would reverberate much like electricity. Or so it was how Hoggle had attempted to explain it to her.

Jareth paused right before his right foot went into his boot. "You heard the humming?"

"Sure." She shrugged. "Hard not to."

"And you still pressed forward?"

"It might have been annoying, but hardly distressing. I figured it would eventually fade."

Jareth's eyes scanned her whole being. From the top of her head to the tips of her shoes she felt his eyes take her in. He might as well as dunked her in cold water from the stream: her skin broke out in goose bumps. His eyes squinted. "The hum is a warning," he finally said. "Most animals, as well as people, pick up on it and know that they should keep a safe distance."

"Yeah, well, I'm no stranger to the wiles of magic remember," she said and gave him a leveled look.

He adjusted his boot and turned away. "I remember," he said quietly. Then with lighter tones, "So what brings you out here to the sanctuary of nature?"

She glanced around at the brightly painted leaves. "Inspiration. The city's no good to me right now."

He shook out the blanket. "I see."

The sun suddenly winked out as large clouds made their way from the horizon. The storm was on its way and Sarah had roughly a two mile walk back to the cabin. "I should be getting back," she said. Everything she had wanted to say, to discuss wouldn't come out. She looked at him. "Perhaps we'll meet again." It sounded lame, stupid; not the sort of thing a writer of romance novels should say.

"Perhaps," he said.

She turned to leave. So this was how her moment was going to end. A few pleasantries was a step up from hello; practically an upgrade from a greeting card. After this she probably wouldn't see him again. Back at the cabin she would probably confide in Hoggle and he'd be insensitive to her feminine feelings. Her hand re-gripped the walking stick. No. She looked back. "Jareth!" she called.

He hadn't moved. He stood there in the grey light gazing at the water.

Her heart was running a marathon. "Would you like to join me for dinner tonight?"

"Sarah," he said, raising his gaze to hers. "It would be my pleasure."