She couldn't see a thing. The sun was glaring, high in the sky, and it was the first thing to greet her.
After just having left the gloom of the house, her pupils dilated too quickly, and Sarah immediately shielded her eyes from the light by turning back towards the door—which, unfortunately, did not provide much in terms of shade.
However, her current problem was not to do with her eyes, but with the monster on other side of the doorway.
Sarah put her ear to the wood of the door, listening for any indication the creature was on the other side. When she didn't hear anything, she hoped maybe it had passed by. Though, Sarah thought it best not to assume anything.
Little by little her eyes grew used to the light. From behind the shadows of her eyelids, the rays of the sun would enter boldly without any care for courtesy. She squinted through her lashes, the shimmering air stinging her eyes with a glaring brilliance that transformed everything she saw into a blur of nothingness. Sunspots danced wildly across her vision, performing with an enthusiasm that left her dazzled by their display. The light blazed, covering all it touched in a cloak of white heat, making it impossible to discern earth from sky. But eventually the heavens broke from its embrace of the earth, leaving the landscape glowing — a searing reminder of their union.
It took her all of two seconds to wish she had never gotten her sight back.
She was in the middle of a desert, and there was no end to it she could see. The sand went on for miles, forming small hills and shallow valleys. The air was dry, ridding her mouth and throat of all moisture. Already beads of sweat were forming on her brow and under her clothes to cool her body from the high temperature.
"Great," she grumbled through clenched teeth.
She was stuck.
Sarah immediately grabbed the door like it was her only lifeline. There was no way she was letting go. She wasn't about to go exploring in this wasteland and end up lost. Besides, the moment she took her hands off the door it would probably disappear. Going back into the house wasn't much of an option either. That thing or beast could be right outside the door for all she knew. For now, she would just have to wait.
Sarah hoped Toby was okay. Wherever he was, she only wanted him to be safe. She was afraid that he might have gone through one of the doors and ended up some place like she was, or worse, that he might have run into something like that monster. Suddenly, she was feeling nauseous and wasn't from the heat.
Making sure not to let go of the doorknob, Sarah sat down in the sand, her legs thanking her for the respite.
If something happened to her brother she wouldn't know what she would do. Yeah, okay, she and Karen still didn't along perfectly, but her stepmother would be devastated and her father would be heartbroken. Sarah couldn't imagine her own reaction, and she didn't want to. She didn't want to think about what would happen if Toby got hurt.
But it wasn't going to happen. She wouldn't let it.
Slowly, but surely, the heat began to take its toll. Her shirt was soaked in sweat. Her hair was sticking to the sides of her face and the back of her neck. Every so often when one arm started cramping up or the knob would become too hot to hold, she would switch hands that held the door's handle. Besides the obvious and unpleasant warmth, which she was trying to ignore, Sarah was becoming intensely aware of her growing hunger and lack of water. Her stomach was growling so loud she was sure that if that creature was on the other side of the door it would be able to hear her.
Maybe it was the dehydration or the hunger, or it could be the heat. Perhaps it was all three. Off in the distance, she spotted something. A green something. She had a hard time making it out. It was far and it was so hot and she just wanted something cool to drink. She fell asleep staring at it. When she woke up, it had moved closer. No, that couldn't be right. She must be more tired than she thought, and proceeded to fall back asleep.
After waking up a second time she stared at it lazily. Yes, it was definitely closer. Or was she getting closer to it? She surveyed her surroundings trying to find some indication that she and the door had managed to move from their original spot. There was nothing. No marks in the sand to suggest any movement on their part. She frowned and went back to staring at it.
The third time she woke, she was able to see the leaves of the trees that hung heavy with fruit and make out the tall grass surrounding the clear water that sparkled seductively in the sunlight.
Sarah had forgotten how beautiful water was. She wondered if it tasted as refreshing as it looked. And was it just her, or could she smell the fruit from here? It was a sweet, biting scent that caused her stomach to writhe in pain. She could just imagine how it would feel to take one of those fruits, bite into it and have its savory juice fill her mouth with sugary tang.
As these thoughts raced through her head, something at the farthest corner of her mind was stirring. It was in that place where people usually store those vital memories that contain information of the utmost importance. She couldn't quite reach it though. However, Sarah wasn't one to ignore her instincts. They had gotten her out of less than desirable situations and through some rough times. In her case, it was always the better bet to trust them.
Not that it was easy. All reason told her she was in the middle of a scorching hot desert with no food or water, except for the small oasis just waiting for her like an unwrapped present under the tree on Christmas morning, and not to take advantage of that would be insane.
Slowly rising up, she did her best not to look at the watering hole for fear she might give into temptation. Sarah knew she needed to get out of this place fast. There was something wrong with it. In spite of the seemingly earth-like terrain, she was beginning to doubt that she was even in her own world. The sand was too soft and the sun was too bright. It had worked well enough for a quick escape, but now it was time to leave.
She gradually turned the handle bit by bit, partially to refrain from making any noise that might attract attention, and partially because she was worried that it might not open and wanted to delay that possibility as long as she could.
Luckily for her that wasn't an issue.
The door opened, and she let it crack wide enough to see if the coast was clear. When Sarah was sure that it was safe, she stepped over the threshold, taking care not to look back.
The moment she entered the hallway all trace of dehydration was gone. Even her previous hunger had left her. Her mind had become clearer too — more focused — like a thick fog had been lifted. She immediately realized that place must have had her under some kind of enchantment. All those things she had been feeling and seeing were only a trick to keep her there. Furious, she turned on her heel and started down the hallway.
She had no idea how long she had been in that place. There were no windows in the hall, only doors; no way to tell if it was still day or night. Time she could have spent searching for Toby had been wasted in there and Sarah cursed herself. She knew none of this was her fault, but she just couldn't help feeling like she could have done something to prevent this all from happening. It was pointless for her to consider such things, though. She had no control over this situation. It was what it was, and the only thing she could do was to keep on until it was over.
As Sarah walked past each door she would notice they were not only becoming more unusual, but downright weird. She passed one door that had the roots of a tree creeping out of the walls, through the floors and up into the ceiling. One was only half her height and made of some flimsy cardboard. Another was designed to look like a larger version of a Queen of Hearts playing card, and had fresh red paint that was seeping down its surface. A door in the form a gigantic head of a wolf opened its jaw for Sarah to enter when she was close enough.
One was made of pure gold. It rose to the ceiling in two separate segments, decorated with an elaborate framework of foliage and fruit. Relief panels held scenes of peaceful bliss with a whole manner of creatures, living in a narrative that prized harmony, happiness, and all that was good in life. The metal glowed with warm light all its own, and Sarah never quite felt anything like the sense of tranquility that passed over her when she walked by.
Across the hall was its opposite. Alike in dimension and structure, it was ever the foil to its counterpart. Instead of panels to represent order, the door was designed in an arrangement that upheld chaos. Figures of tormented humans were molded into the exterior of the door. Their nude bodies writhed and twisted in poses that expressed ultimate suffering. Their faces contorted in pain and agony. Their eyes shone out with heartbreaking despair. Sinewy arms were cast forward, breaking away from the facade, hands reaching for an escape that was not to come. The bronze captured the life of these high relief figures so well it was if their very souls had been melded into the door, and Sarah could barely stand to look at it.
She didn't allow herself much time to study the doors anyway. Most weren't that interesting and others gave her the creeps, so she'd just avoid looking at them all together. But there were some so unique and so captivating she would become distracted and have to tear herself away from them.
While admiring a door made up entirely of flowers, Sarah heard something. At first she couldn't be sure what it was or if she was hearing anything at all. It would drift faintly in and out of her consciousness, teasing her, never allowing her to quite make it out. Sarah walked down the hall, ignoring the doors completely focusing on the noise. Gradually, it got louder, and she recognized she was hearing notes and that the noise wasn't noise. It was music.
The farther she walked, the louder the music got. Still it was only barely discernible. She thought it might be coming from one of the doors and started opening them to make sure.
She opened a door made of solid rock with water seeping through it just by putting her hand to its surface and found herself looking into an endless ocean. There was a door made of hanging beads, and when she pulled them back, she saw people with odd-shaped faces and strange clothes, drinking and dancing. When she found a door made of fur, she was allowed entrance after running her fingers through it and on the other side were small, round creatures, lazing in tall fields of grass. A door made of lava had heat coming off it so unbearable she couldn't get anywhere near and had to run past.
Most doors she couldn't figure out how to open, but more often than not, some doors would give off a bad vibe, and Sarah thought it best to stay away from those ones altogether.
After closing a door made of candies, ranging from lollipops and taffy to chocolates and toffees, Sarah wiped the stickiness onto her jeans and headed for another door. She went over to one that was about a foot shorter than her and made of ivory with embellishments carved into its surface. But before she could open it, another door caught her eye.
When she got close enough, her heart stopped. It looked like the door made of ice. But that couldn't be right. She remembered it shattering. She couldn't be completely sure of that, though. Even if she did heard the door shatter, it didn't necessarily mean it did.
Upon moving closer she noticed that the music she had been hearing was getting louder and saw that the door was not made of ice, but of crystal.
When she was standing in front of the door, Sarah chastised herself for ever thinking it could come close to resembling the one made of ice. This one was far superior. It was made of pure crystal and had no fallacies in the stone she could see. The door protruded from the wall like a funhouse mirror, and rose high above her almost touching the ceiling — but not quite. Delicate silver patterns bordered the door, lapping over each other in maze-like configurations, never beginning and never ending.
Sarah was positive the music was coming from this particular door. Just to be certain she put her ear to it and listened.
The moment her head touched the crystal, the music swelled. She could hear every note, every inflection. The music was penetrating her very being. If she opened the door ,she didn't think she'd be able to bear the intensity of the sound.
It didn't take long for her to recognize what she was hearing was a song, And it was a song she was very familiar with.
She first heard the song in a dream from years long past that now only live in memory. But the music was muted then. She'd be able to catch a few notes, nothing more, and they'd play in her head in disorganized shambles. So when she could finally heard the music that haunted her dreams, she was mesmerized and reached out to open the door.
The air was still. It was as if time had stopped and frozen everything in place. Glitter and broken crystal hovered, suspended motionlessly throughout the room along with other various objects. The music could no longer be heard, and the silence was deafening. Sarah's blood pumped in her ears, and she could feel it coursing through her veins, making her so weak that when she stepped into the room she had to catch herself before falling.
Walking through the ballroom was surreal. Logic told her it shouldn't be here; this place only existed inside her mind and her standing here, right now, couldn't be possible. She wondered if maybe she was dreaming. What if this whole thing was a dream? What if she was home on the couch in front of the fire with Toby already home, safe and sound? Karen never called to warn about him going into the house, and she never went in. She didn't find any endless hallway with numerous doors, and she definitely didn't use one of them to enter into a crystal ballroom that had been wrecked in irreparable ways. No, she was home, fast asleep, and would wake up any moment now.
But the more she observed her surroundings, the less certain she was that it was a dream.
Shards of glass were imbedded in the floor and columns. Curtains that had been ripped to pieces were floating above head. One of the walls was charred, looking as if something had exploded against it. Pillows hovered, their downy feathers spilling out, mixing with the glitter in the air. A clock had been destroyed. Splintered gold was hung scattered, strewn with gears and springs and weights.
This was nothing like her dream. Her dream was flawless, unblemished. Nothing was broken or torn, and it was warm — like walking in sunlight.
As she explored the room, Sarah walked past a large mirror fragment that was a good eight feet in length. When she looked into it, she stared at her reflection in shock. Most likely it was her fascination with the situation which made her oblivious to her change in wardrobe, though how she could have missed it perplexed her.
She was draped in an elegant, white ball gown, embellished with golden lace and jewels. Ribbons were woven through her thick, dark hair, and her throat and ears were adorned with diamonds that sparkled in the mirror. It was the outfit she wore in the dream, only it wasn't the same.
Like the ballroom, her dress was chaotic. The fabric was shredded, causing the sleeves to hang off her arms and a large piece of the gown to have fallen almost completely off, leaving it trailing behind her. The jewelry was missing stones. Her hair was flat and falling out. And she hadn't noticed before, but her feet were bare except for the dust that clung to her soles from the floor.
While she was studying herself in the mirror, Sarah caught a glimpse of someone standing far off behind her. But when she turned around no one was there. She walked over to where she thought she'd saw the figure — there was nothing.
The next time she spotted him, he was hidden in the shadows of a great column cap. When she reached the spot where he had been standing, she still could find no trace of him. The third time she almost missed him. He was obscured by a large piece of cloth that hung twisted and tattered in the air like a gigantic snake's skin.
She ran over, gripping the skirts of her gown in an attempt to move faster, but with no luck. When she got there, she tore the silk from her view to find he had disappeared yet again. Only this time she found something.
Hovering where he had stood only moments ago was a mask.
Sarah reached out, pulling it from the air into her delicate hands. She weighed the mask finding it lighter than she imagined it would be. It was made of bronze, formed into the face of a goblin with spiraling horns protruding from the sides of its head. Its grip was gold and in the shape of a long skeleton arm with the hand connecting to the face. The harsh grooves and contours of the gruesome face were meant to inspire revulsion and abhorrence. She found it captivating.
Her fascination with the mask distracted her from the hairs that began to rise on her neck, and when she looked up, she saw him.
Unlike the dreams she had of him where everything was crisp, clear, and bright, he was now insubstantial — dull; as if she could pass right through him. He had become a mere memory. A ghost.
He walked toward her until he had her in his arms and she was surprised at how solid he felt, how real. Not that she had much experience, but she was sure you couldn't touch ghosts, much less dance with them. Sarah wasn't complaining though. He was a fine dancer. Better than fine. They way he moved them across the floor made her feel as if they were floating. She even looked down to check if they were — they weren't, but they might as well have been. Lost in a dream, they waltzed around the room, drinking in each other's presence.
He was wearing the same clothes he always wore. A midnight blue jacket encrusted with jewels, black leather boots, and silk gloves. His hair even had the blue streaks in it. And his smell. His very scent was intoxicating, making her head dizzy with old dreams and forgotten dances. She started to drift off, her eyes fluttering in a daze.
"Hey," she said, shaking her head out of stupor, "you're doing something to me. Stop it." He inclined his head and smiled down at her, begrudgingly impressed.
Similar to what happened when stepping out of the desert, a fog lifted from her mind, all trace of lightheadedness disappearing with it.
"That's how it is here."
Sarah was so startled at finally hearing him speak it took her a moment to realize what he had said.
"So, you won't being taking any credit for that then?" Her accusation made the corners of his mouth twitch in response. "What about last time? The peach? It felt similar.,,"
"I don't recall giving you any fruit," he said with his nose in the air. She almost stomped on his foot.
"No, of course you don't."
They continued to dance, her partner attempting to avoid eye contact.
"Where's Toby?"
"Not here." This time she almost smacked him.
"Obviously, he's not here, Goblin King. What I want to know is what you've done with him."
"Still not asking the right questions, precious," he singsonged as he spun her out and then back into his arms.
That made her pause. Her brow furrowed in frustration as she considered other ways to rephrase the question. Well, Toby wasn't in the current vicinity, and the Goblin King supposedly was not involved with his disappearance, at least directly. So what did that leave?
"How do I get to Toby?"
"Mmmm. Warmer, but not quite there."
She could feel him purring, the vibrations carrying across his body and into her own. He was loving this. But his pleasure at Sarah's failing attempts only enraged her further and made her even more determined to wipe that constant smirk of arrogance off his pretty face.
"Why are you here, oh, Goblin King," she mocked. "Don't you have anything better to do than mess with old enemies?"
"I'm not here."
Her patience found its end.
"What is that supposed to mean? You're not here. I can see you. I can feel you." The last statement made him grin wide, exposing his long, pointed teeth at her. "Don't," she told him.
"How did you get here?"
"Through a door," she blurted out.
"Anything strange about this door," he responded unfazed.
"Other than it leading me here? No, not really."
"No?" He clearly knew about the hallway with the doors. In fact, Sarah wouldn't be surprised in the slightest if he had arranged for her to get lost in it.
"Do you even know where you are?" The question caught her off guard. She assumed she was in the Labyrinth; that the Mason House had been connected to it somehow, bringing her here to the ballroom from her dreams. From the way he spoke, she doubted that was the case. And then the answer hit her.
"We're in a dream," she whispered in awe. But this couldn't be her dream. In her dreams this place was bright and beautiful — perfect. This place was torn and in ruins. It wasn't right here. Here everything was cold and strange. This wasn't a dream — it was a nightmare.
"What happened?"
He stared incredulously at her as if she had just asked him her own name. Then he maneuvered her into a shallow dip and leaned down to speak two words in her ear.
"You happened."
He pulled her up so fast her head began to spin.
Yes, she could remember the first time she was here. She was so young then, and her naivety got the best of her. The peach had transported her here to this world, this dream. Even after reading all those fairy tales she still managed to fall for the oldest trick in the book: you never eat the fruit.
"I still don't understand. How are you not here?" He sighed dramatically like the answer was the most obvious thing the world, but he indulged her all the same.
"I am a shade. A remnant of what was. What you see — the dream and myself — are all that's left. The last of the threads holding onto reality."
That would explain his appearance. She could almost see right through him. Tendrils were flowing off the edges of his form in a wispy haze as they glided. He was like smoke she had managed to catch with her bare hands.
"If this is a dream, am I really here?"
"You misunderstand. This place is a dream and it is fading, much like I am. I can assure you, though, you are very much... in the flesh." The last word was drawn out, his hissing voice spiraling all around her, lightly stroking her skin and leaving traces of goosebumps in its wake.
She looked to where her hand – still solid – was clasped in his. The edges of his glove were bleeding out through her fingers, around her palm, and down her wrist; yet he remained. Sarah wondered if the same thing would happen to her if she stayed for too long. Would she slowly begin to fade and become a specter of her own making? Or would she stay and become like the room — a broken dream, forgotten in time.
What was the point of this anyway? If he was behind Toby's disappearance and her being here, why not take them to his castle in the Labyrinth? Why make her go through the house and down the hallway, and what was with all those doors? There had to be a reason. Maybe it was just another game. Well, if it was she getting tired of playing.
But she had a feeling it was more than that. He wouldn't have done all this just to get back Toby, would he? Toby was older now. What could he want with him? And last time, he was at least upfront about the stakes. The Goblin King claimed he didn't have Toby, and why bother lying if that's what this is about? No, this time was different. He was after something else. Someone else. She was the one that won. She solved the Labyrinth and beat its king.
Why visit an old rival, but for one thing.
"Why am I here?" The words were faint, but the stillness of the room amplified their sound, sending them through the air and off the walls, causing the last syllable to hover for what seemed like an eternity.
And when forever was over, Sarah wished it had lasted longer.
The look that formed on the Goblin King's face was one of such miserable self-pity, Sarah wasn't sure if she should feel sorry for him or let him continue feeling sorry for himself — since he seemed to have it down so well. But as quickly as the look appeared, it was gone, and she wondered if she had only imagined it.
"You came through a door, yes?" She nodded. "That door belongs to only one place: The Gateway. It is a place that is in-between."
"In-between what?"
"Everything." Sarah gave him a disbelieving look. "The gateway is a threshold, so to speak. It connects worlds and…other things. Convenient — for travel or a quick get away."
Or luring women into traps, she thought.
"This is a dream, though, not a world."
"I did say other things, did I not? And this may be your dream, but I created it. I built it with my magic. This small, fragile thing. I made it for you," he stated with no small amount of pride. "And you destroyed it."
Sarah felt chills run down her body. She had momentarily forgotten just who it was she was talking to. Suddenly, she wasn't feeling very confident. When his eyes met hers, fear filled her and all she could think of was getting as far away as possible from him.
"We can fix it ,though."
"What do mean fix it?" Sarah had a feeling she already knew the answer to her question, and she wasn't entirely certain she wanted to hear it said aloud.
"We can make this right. The dream can be remade," he said, inspecting the ballroom as if he was making a mental checklist of what needed to be repaired. "Together, we can fix this."
"I'm not staying," she declared as loud as she could, her voice cracking and high with fear.
She thought he might not have heard her, but he brought their dance to a gentle halt and looked at her, his face expressionless.
"You're not leaving," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. "Not this time. Not again. Not ever."
"I didn't ask for this," she exclaimed, pulling away from him. But he held onto her hand, gripping it fiercely, so that she couldn't get away.
"Let me go," she pleaded with him.
She could feel her mind clouding over. Her heart beat wildly, she gasped for breath, working herself into a frenzy. Tears filled her eyes. She couldn't see.
"Fighting it will only make things worse," a voice whispered in her ear. "Give in, and I promise no harm will come to you."
Sarah stopped struggling. A single thought entered into her mind that wiped the fear from her and replaced it with absolute clarity.
You have no power over me.
All of this, the house, the never-ending halls with their endless doors, filled with things of nightmares, was just a scare tactic. She should've known earlier. He did the same thing in the Labyrinth, and she cursed herself for allowing him to get the better of her again. His attempts to bend her to his will and turn her into a cowering, little girl were over. No more.
"Don't you dare threaten me." Her voice was calm and its strength caused his grip to falter.
"You are no match for me, Sarah."
"Did you forget that I won. I beat your Labyrinth, Jareth," she spat, "I proved long ago I was more than your match. Don't make me do it again."
He was quiet.
They stared each other down, both unwilling to relinquish any ground.
And then he was gone.
She saw him going, fading out into nothing. It was quick. Sarah didn't know whether to feel relief or apprehension. She decided the best response would be to do what he had done, and disappear.
She headed for the door, but before taking more than a few steps she heard a tinkling sound behind her. Thinking that the Goblin King had come back for another round, she turned back and saw shards of mirror and glass, slowly coming together to form a large mass with their sharp, glinting tips pointing right at her.
Her stomach dropped in realization, and she ran. Behind her she could hear the shards zipping through the air after her, crashing into other objects, sending them flying. A candelabrum spun over into her path, and she glimpsed glass stuck in the wax while leaping over it.
Sarah could see the door as she raced across the room, the skirts of her dress dragging across the floor and her hair flowing out behind her. She swatted objects out her way, causing them to spin into the air, swirling glitter and dust together as she raced towards the exit. The door was so close, but it seemed to take forever to reach it. Her legs burned and her chest heaved with strain. She was so focused on getting out that she didn't feel the warm liquid run down her arms and face.
Perhaps it was her past involvement with cross country, or maybe she was one of those people who just got lucky. It didn't matter. When she reached the door, she threw it open and flung herself through, making sure to close it shut so nothing else could get out. On the other side, Sarah could hear the shattering of broken glass. When it stopped, she allowed herself to breathe again.
"Sarah?" For a second, she thought he had followed her out and was nearly convinced of it when she saw a flash of blonde hair out of the corner of her eye.
But no. Standing over her was a young boy, only three inches shorter than herself and growing more every day.
"Toby!" She wasted no enthusiasm as she tackled him and brought him into a crushing embrace.
"What the hell, Sarah," he managed to get out, his face muffled by her shirt.
"You're okay," she said, pulling back with a wide smile.
"Um, yeah, I'm fine. Actually, I'm more worried about you. What happened? You didn't fall through the floor, too, did you?"
Sarah looked down at herself and noticed she was no longer in her ragged dress, but back in her plain shirt and jeans. However, she was covered in dust and dirt from head to toe, and noticed scrapes on her arms that she hadn't felt before.
"And what's that in your hand? Is that a mask? Did you find that here?"
Still held firmly in her fist was the Goblin King's mask. It hadn't disappeared with her outfit, just like the cuts hadn't. A reminder or a cruel joke — probably both.
"Hey, buddy," she scolded, while poking him in the chest, "I'm the one who should be asking the questions. What are doing in this place? Your friend was just in the hospital after getting hurt in here."
"How did you know about Tyler?"
"Karen called," she said, smacking him upside the head. "She said not to worry about you though. That you were more responsible and knew better than to come in here." Toby had the decency to look shamefaced.
"I wasn't going to at first," he told her as they started down the stairs and over the railing. "But this older guy kept calling Tyler a wimp, and we kind of got into it." Sarah gave him a look of surprise, but he only shook his head at her. "Nothing physical. We started yelling at each other and then he dared me in front of a lot of people to go into the house."
He trailed off letting Sarah come to her own conclusions about the rest of the story. It wasn't hard. Toby obviously didn't want to cower in front of a bully, which she could relate to, and he ended up coming in here to prove himself.
Well, at least she knew now what had been bothering him so much.
They walked out of the house and down the porch to her car, which still waiting for her by the curb.
"Look, Toby," she began carefully, "I don't really have any business getting onto you about this, but you should have told that guy to fuck off." Her statement caught him off guard, never having heard her cuss so blatantly around him. "He's a bully, plain and simple. And you never give into bullies no matter what. Coming into this house was a mistake. Not just because Karen would be angry with you or you might have gotten hurt — which are both good reasons, don't get me wrong — but because when you came here, you gave into him. You let him manipulate you. Don't let people get the better of you, okay?"
Toby smiled at her. "Okay, sis."
They both hopped into the car, and Sarah put the key into the ignition, ready to put this whole day behind her.
"Oh, by the way," she said, "next time you're going to be late, call me. That way I know where you are if something happens. And if Karen calls, I can cover for you."
"What do you mean? I'm not even late. I came straight here after school. I was only going to be a few minutes and then you showed up." Sarah peered at him, wondering why he would lie so blatantly after everything.
But when she glanced at the clock, she understood he was telling the truth. The dashboard showed it was wasn't even three thirty yet. That wasn't possible. Karen had called at this time, and she went into the house only a little after. She couldn't say how long she had been wandering in there, but there was no way she'd been in there for only a few minutes. It had felt like days.
"Hey, you all right?" Toby's voice cut through her thoughts, bringing her back to the present.
"Yeah, I'm fine. I just thought we had been in there a lot longer. Don't want Karen to freak. I told her you'd be home soon when she called."
"Just call her from your cell."
"Don't you know anything little brother," she teased. "Your mom will get suspicious if we don't call her from the home line, and she'll probably be able to hear the car if we call her on the cell. It'll take only take a minute to get home, and then we can pretend like none of this ever happened." Toby sent her a grateful smile, but it wavered as his eyes shifted to her hands.
"Why are you still holding onto that thing? You know, you never told me where you got it. Did you find it in the Mason House?" Sarah didn't realize she was still holding onto the mask. She had been carrying it this whole time, never letting go since she first found it.
"It's kinda creepy looking," Toby said, wrinkling his nose. "What do you plan on doing with it?"
Sarah examined the mask thoughtfully, and then turned to her brother with a smile.
"Not a thing."
She tossed the mask in the backseat of the jeep, which was crowded with emptied bags from fast food runs and old notebooks from school. Toby noticed it missing after Sarah bribed him to clean out her car one summer afternoon. It had been moved to a box, wrapped in old clothes, under a bed, upstairs in a house and that's where it stayed, gathering no dust and fading forever from memory.
A/N: This was my first fanfic, so to all who reviewed, followed, and favorited, it was much appreciated.
A special thanks to Nonsuch for giving part two a good once over, the lovely compliments, and the advice.
I hope everyone who read this enjoyed it. I certainly enjoyed writing it.
A little fun fact: Some of the doors lead to specific places (e.g. different realities and dimensions from other stories)
The round green door from part one leads to Bilbo's House, and the ice door leads to Jotunheim, so if you've seen Thor, you have a pretty good idea of what the monster looks like.
Doors from part two:
- The Queen of Hearts playing card leads to Wonderland, specifically the Queen's castle
- The wolf head leads to the grandmother's house from "Little Red Riding Hood"
- The one made of gold leads to heaven, and its design is based on Ghiberti's Gates of Paradise in Florence, and its counterpart leads to hell and is based of Rodin's sculpture, Gates of Hells
- The door of fur leads to Iota Geminorum IV and those were tribbles she saw
- The door made of candies lead to the witch's cottage in "Hansel and Gretel"
- And finally if it wasn't obvious enough for you, the crystal door led to her crystal ballroom dream, not the Labyrinth.
The rest lead to random pubs, parallel worlds, and the odd pocket universe.