Sarah's mouth was dry and her knees were shaking. For perhaps the first time, she was glad for the thick skirts Agnes made her wear so she wouldn't catch a cold. His hand tightened uncomfortably on her shoulder, and Sarah shuddered. It had nothing to do with the temperature of the night air.
"Speak, little mouse. Before I lose my patience," he ordered. Sarah opened her mouth but couldn't find any words-what she wanted more than anything was to have never left the safety of the kitchens. He narrowed his eyes at her silence and leaned in closer to her, his long hair almost brushing against her forehead.
"Perhaps I really will turn you into a mouse," he mused. "And let Agnes have her fun with you."
"She'd never!" Sarah protested, and then, realizing what she said, clapped both of her hands over her mouth. Now he'd know that she'd been living with Agnes in the kitchens, and he would no doubt discover that Sir Didymus and Ludo brought her to the castle themselves. From there, he would no doubt find that Hoggle had been friendly to her as well; she'd bring nothing but misfortune to her friends.
"She speaks!" He exclaimed in mock awe. "And she seems to know my cook. Curious." The master considered Sarah, straightening himself and letting go of her shoulder. Sarah should have felt relieved that he'd let go of her; instead, the glint in his eye had her even more nervous than before. She slowly pulled her hands away from her mouth, lacing her fingers together in front of her to disguise her shaking and curb any fidgeting. She'd already gotten herself into enough trouble. The best she could hope for now was to make a good impression and hope for leniency. He tapped a gloved finger against his lips, and Sarah found that she had to look away at the ground. His gaze was too sharp, too probing.
"I suppose this is why my Agnes hasn't been burning my toast lately-she hasn't been making it at all!" And then he laughed, as if it was the funniest joke he'd ever heard. "Little mouse, did you think I did not know the workings of my own castle? Of course I knew I suddenly had new inhabitants. I just didn't expect such a comely little mouse to be living in my walls."
Sarah blanched and took a step back, swallowing her sharp retort. She didn't like being called a mouse, and she especially didn't like being called a comely little mouse, not by him. She suspected that he was more than just a few years older than her, she felt every one of them keenly. Before she'd felt a little like an adult, setting out into the world with her baby brother. Now she felt like a child being scolded by her least favorite school teacher.
"I had nowhere else to go," she said, falling back into her old refrain. Not that she expected it to matter to him; she hadn't hoped for much in the way of pity or understanding from the fearsome master of the castle, not with the way her friends spoke of him. The most she'd hoped for was for a little bit of peace, but she'd ruined all chances of that herself.
"Oh?" he asked, raising a single slanted eyebrow. "And tell me, little mouse, why it is you thought it was appropriate to find your way to my doorstep. Or into my kitchen, I suppose," he added dryly. Sarah paused, trying to reconstruct her tale so she could leave Toby out of it.
"Walk with me and tell me your story," he ordered when she didn't reply immediately, holding out a gloved hand. Sarah reached out for his hand but hesitated, drawing back at the last moment.
"If it's all the same to you, I'd rather go back to the kitchens, please," she said softly, frowning at his hand. "Agnes is expecting me, and I only came out to retrieve something I'd left behind earlier. I am terribly sorry for interrupting your night. Morning," she corrected, remembering that he woke incredibly late. "It was not my intention to cause any trouble." She considered curtsying, but decided it was overkill.
"It doesn't please me," he said, pursing his lips. "No, you will walk with me, and I will return you to Agnes myself. If you are as close to her as your are intimating, perhaps you're not a little mouse at all. Perhaps you're one of her little lost kittens." He grinned widely then, baring his teeth to her. They were gleaming white and oddly pointed; Sarah felt a new sort of trepidation.
"But-" Sarah started, but she did not get to finish. Instead, the master of the castle grabbed hold of her wrist so hard she felt the delicate bones within grind together. She gasped in pain and stumbled forward to his side, unable to yank her arm away as it was tucked between his own and his chest. On the rare occasions she'd accompanied her father or mother to market, she sometimes saw courting couples walking in a similar manner. But Sarah doubted that one half of the couple was manhandled so forcefully, or that one was dragged behind the other like she was being dragged behind the master of the castle. Her skirt twisted around her ankles, tripping her and making her stumble to keep up with him; if he even noticed her struggling, which she doubted, he didn't seem to care at all.
He entered the hedge maze and finally slowed down, allowing Sarah to right herself and try to pull from his grasp. She was unsuccessful and starting to grow angry, moving away from fear. She didn't care that he was some great and terrifying wizard-he was manhandling her and it hurt and just generally being a bully.
"Now, little lost kitten, tell me your story while we walk."
Sarah scowled.
"I have a name," she muttered, tired of being called a mouse or a kitten. She'd never been fond of pet names, especially when they were used to condescend to her.
"Of course you do, but you have yet to give it to me." He gazed down at her, a strange light in his eyes. "Are you going to give it to me?"
Sarah looked away and kept her mouth shut. Her name wasn't any of his business, and she wanted to keep it that way if only to spite him.
"I thought not," he all but purred. "My, you are a challenge, little kitten."
"Not a kitten," she whispered, deciding that she if she had to choose, she'd rather be called a mouse. There was something about the way he said kitten that made her feel a little sick.
"Back to being a mouse then, hmm?" he said as he pulled them around a sharp turn. "So speak, mouse, and tell me how you came to be cowering in my kitchens."
Sarah clenched her jaw and reminded herself that her current situation was her own fault. She could hate the master of the castle, but she could not blame him.
"My parents are poor and could no longer afford to feed me," she said woodenly. "My father is a woodcutter, but has been unable to sell his wares because the magic," she glanced at him pointedly, "has made the wood impossible to use. I came here to find work. I'm a good worker," Sarah said.
"How terribly tragic," he crooned, patting her hand in a way that set her teeth on edge. "And I assume your parents were worried about such a pretty girl wandering the forest by herself; who knows what she might find-or what might find her?"
Sarah paused, her skin crawling where he'd touched her. She thought back to how her stepmother threw out all of her buttons and ribbons, and the way her father brandished his ax on the morning she and her brother left.
"No," she said quietly. "No, I don't think they are overly worried."
"And I assume you are not going back to your unconcerned parents, are you, little mouse?"
Sarah's silence was answer enough for him; he grinned again, and Sarah was reminded of the stories she'd been told as a little girl about wolves eating unsuspecting children. She shuddered.
While she was busy contemplating just how he might devour her, the master of the castle pinched her chin in between his gloved fingers and angled her face so she was looking up at him. Sarah tried to pull away but was rewarded only with a firmer grip that would surely bruise come morning.
"No doubt you are a good kitchen worker," he mused, tilting her face this way and that. Sarah clenched her hands into fists. "But I think, little mouse, that we might just be able to find something that suits you better. I will think on it." And as he let her face go, he traced a line along her jaw; Sarah could feel the sharp line of a fingernail through his soft leather gloves.
He turned away then, seemingly unconcerned if she kept up or not. Sarah stared at his retreating back, eyes wide in horror. She did not like his nicknames for her, even though she knew giving him her real name would somehow be worse; she did not like how he touched her, or the way he looked at her; most of all, she hated how he was planning to take her away from Agnes. She didn't trust his plans, no more than she trusted him.
But although she didn't trust him, she also didn't want to be lost in the hedge maze while it was dark outside. She scurried along behind him, careful to keep far enough away that she couldn't turn to grab her again. He drew her out of the hedge maze and back out towards the castle, and Sarah grew more and more nervous as she walked closer and closer to the kitchen door, where Agnes would be waiting. Sarah hoped her absence had been noticed and that Agnes wouldn't answer the door with Toby on her hip.
To Sarah's horror, the master of the castle didn't even knock. He simply threw the door open, and Sarah flinched as it bounced back off the stone wall.
"Agnes!" he barked. "I believe I've found something you've lost. Careless indeed."
Sarah leaned out from behind the master of the castle and saw Agnes, who was busy not looking at her, but Toby was not in sight. Once again, Sarah was filled with shame, even more so when she realized she'd left the pot at the well… And that was the whole reason she was knee deep in her current mess.
"My kitchen maid," Agnes said slowly, drawing out her words. "You've been slacking off again, have you? Lazy girl." The woman's words were harsh, but Sarah was grateful for them; she knew it was an act, just like she'd acted irritated when Sarah showed up with Toby that first day. But Sarah was grateful for anything that might lessen the impact of her discovery on her friends, and would take any tongue lashing Agnes decided to dish out. She tried to step around the master of the castle but was stopped when she grabbed her by the shoulder.
"Not so quickly, my little mouse," he purred. "I think you've forgotten to mention something. Tell me, why is it that I smell an infant?" As if to punctuate his words, he sniffed the air. "Don't tell me it's yours."
He grinned down at her, a ferocious parting of his lips; Sarah thought that for some reason he was angered by his thoughts and couldn't think of why that was. Her eyes filled with angry tears.
"My brother," she ground out, already missing the safety of the secret. "He's my brother."
"Ah!" he said, clearly pleased, releasing her from his grip. Sarah dashed away from him, going to stand behind Agnes. The woman was shaking slightly, which Sarah only noticed when she pressed herself against Agnes's safe warmth. She was just as scared as Sarah; the realization made her feel even worse.
"Don't worry yourself over my breakfast today, Agnes. I've something else to attend to; I think I will pay a visit to our little mouse's parents. It seems to me that they've been rather negligent in their duties."
And before Sarah could even think to protest, the master of the castle was out the door and off into the night. Agnes shut the door behind him and latched it shut, her movements slow and deliberate, though her hands were shaking slightly. Sarah sat down on the bench, her legs feeling weak; Agnes turned to her and stared at the girl.
"What have you done?" she asked. "What have you done?"
"I'm sorry," Sarah whispered, her voice breaking. "I'm sorry," she repeated as Agnes came and wrapped her in a hug. The tears that had been waiting finally rolled down her cheeks, and Sarah didn't do anything to try and stop them.
"What did he do to you?" Agnes asked as she stroked Sarah's hair. Sarah shuddered and thought of the way he grabbed her face, the lingering touch along her jaw, the way he leered at her and grinned.
"Nothing," she said. "I think. I just… he scares me, Agnes. I don't want him around Toby." I don't want him around me, she wanted to continue, but that damage was already done.
"Far too late for that," Agnes said, echoing Sarah's thoughts. "But you have friends here, girl. We will all see what we can do. Watch your brother. I will be right back." Agnes wrapped a kerchief around her head and unlatched the door so she could leave.
"Do not leave again," she ordered before she left, and Sarah nodded. She had no intention of ever leaving the safety of the kitchens ever again, not if she had the choice.
It felt like an eternity passed until Agnes returned, with Sir Didymus and Hoggle in tow. Ludo was too big to fit through the kitchen door, but Sir Didymus said that the hulking beast was far too distraught by the news of Sarah and Toby's discovery to be part of the conversation. Sarah believed the fox knight; despite Ludo's large stature, he had a soft heart.
"That rat Jareth," Hoggle grumbled, polishing off an apple on his vest. He bit into it, still scowling. "Can't leave well enough alone. Why's he got to bother a nice girl like you?"
Sarah turned the name over in her head, trying to remember if she'd ever heard it before, but decided that she hadn't. It was such a strange name, she was just she'd have remembered. Just like she was sure she'd have heard of an evil warlock living in the forest if anybody else had known, but she hadn't. Maybe if she'd known…
She closed her eyes and sighed.
"Well, it is of no use wondering because he already has," Sir Didymus said. "And he no doubt will again. Perhaps worse."
Sarah opened her eyes and stared at the fox in horror. He was right, of course; there was no way that Jareth, the master of the castle, would simply let her live down in the kitchens. After all, he said as much, hadn't he? She whined deep in her throat, thinking of all the terrible things he could make her do.
"Don't scare the girl," snapped Agnes, who patted the top of Sarah's head. "He's already harassed her enough for the evening; you don't need to go adding thoughts to her head."
Sarah suddenly found it quite difficult to breathe. Sir Didymus sniffed at Agnes's rebuke, but did not argue.
"Well. You did not tell him your name, did you fair maiden?"
"No," answered Sarah, her voice small.
The group let out a collective sigh; Toby snored lightly in his makeshift crib, oblivious to the tensions in the room.
"Very good. Don't," said Hoggle. "He'll ask, but it's important that you don't. That's how they get you."
"But you know his name," Sarah pointed out. "It's Jareth, isn't it? You said so. Maybe we can…" but she let her sentence trail off as Hoggle shook his head.
"That's just what he called himself when we met him. Don't know his real name, but he knows ours. That's why when he tells us to do something…"
"We are compelled to carry out his orders," continued Sir Didymus, nodding at the dwarf. "Hoggle has the truth of it." He growled, a surprisingly feral sound from the normally polished fox. His tail lashed out angrily, almost knocking over a stack of clean plates, which earned him a scowl from Agnes.
They all talked late into the evening, until Sarah was struggling to stay awake and even Agnes seemed worn. Jareth had been gone for hours, and Sarah didn't want to let herself imagine what he could possibly be doing. No doubt at least part of his activities were terrorizing her parents, but it wasn't done out a sense of justice for Sarah or her brother; no, Sarah got the impression that he rather enjoyed scaring people by whatever means necessary.
And if he was off frightening them half to death, they no doubt would somehow think it her fault, and then they would go into the village to tell everybody about their wicked daughter who consorted with warlocks. She'd ever be able to go anywhere near it again.
In the end, they decided upon nothing; Sarah could not simply flee with toby, as everybody was convinced that she would be followed. Nor could she just hope that Jareth would go away, not until he lost interest in her. In the same vein, he was a warlock; though Sir Didymus brought the possibility up, Sarah did not think herself capable of harming him, not matter how much dread he filled her with.
She was a woodcutter's daughter, not a warrior. And she did not have his true name.
The best, though not the most satisfactory, course of action they were able to settle on was for Sarah to be boring. The faster she was able to lose his interest the better, and although the thought rankled, Sarah was willing to act the part of a simpleton. If it meant her and Toby's safety, she'd do anything.
But she was not expecting to have to put their plan of inaction to use so quickly. Not too long after when Agnes said the master of the castle would normally have his lunch, there came a rapping at the kitchen door. Not long after it was thrown open, much like it had before. And there Jareth stood, his midnight blue cloak billowing in a nonexistent wind.
"Liesel, come here. I wish for you to spend the afternoon with me."
Sarah stared at him, not quite sure why, exactly, he referred to her as a name that wasn't hers. She was saved from answering immediately when Hoggle stood in front of her. Like Agnes before, he, too, trembled under the scathing glare of the master of the castle.
"She ain't going nowhere with you. We're busy."
Jareth snorted, but his eyes narrowed when Hoggle wrapped his hand around Sarah's wrist to prevent her from moving.
"Why, you repulsive little scab. Let go of her at once, Hoggle." Sarah felt the power in the name when he said it; it fell to the floor as if it had weight. She felt Hoggle's fingers loosed from her wrist one by one, as if he was trying to fight the compulsion, but it was no good. Sarah squeezed his hand back in silent thanks, but stepped forward anyway. She couldn't let him put himself in danger.
Jareth smiled triumphantly.
"Agnes, hand me the infant."
"No!" Sarah gasped, but the same compulsion propelled Agnes to Toby's side. She lifted him from the cradle and carried him to her master, a ferocious scowl on her face all the while.
"Come now, Liesel," Jareth ordered, but Sarah's bravery was just about used up. With her baby brother in the monster's arms, she wasn't sure she could trust herself to keep a level head. One tear rolled down her cheek, and then two, and Jareth frowned when he realized his compulsion was not working.
"So not Liesel, then. Very well, Clare, come along. Now."
Sarah gritted her teeth and forced herself forward, letting him think he'd found her name. She looked behind her once before the kitchen door slammed just, just in time to see Agnes bury her face in her hands.