Chapter Nineteen
Wrong, wrong, wrong!
Ludo ducked under some shaggy underbrush as a car sped past him.
Things couldn't have been worse, he thought; the grumpy dwarf had gotten the nasty old one to do a trick, and now his human was wrong. He had tried to stop them, had tried to bite and scratch and growl but, in the end, it had done no good. His only choice had been to leave before he got caught up in the wicked trick too. Now he was running through the wild with no idea as to where he was or where he was supposed to go. Only one thought raced through Ludo's mind: he had to find Sarah; she always made things better.
Didymus gathered together what few belongings he had, preparing to leave the hotel. It was time to disappear for a little while, somewhere that Hoggle and the Wise Man wouldn't look and somewhere that Sarah and Byron could not find. But he would be back; when the true fight began he would be in the thick of it.
Sarah sighed and idly tapped a few keys of the ancient computer that dominated her service counter. Business was slow and it was getting hard to remember why she had shooed Jareth away.
His transition between separate consciousnesses was a little bewildering, and it wasn't always clear who she was talking to. The Goblin King seemed to know everything that happened to him while he was stuck as the writer, but Jareth only seemed to remember some of the things he did when he was the Goblin King. That morning, for example, she knew he remembered pinching her ass because he had later joked about it, but he hadn't said a damn thing about the crystal that was now sitting on her counter, which led her to believe that perhaps he just didn't know anything about it. Maybe, in some way, it was impossible for him to remember things that would immediately require knowledge that only the Goblin King could possess, that if his mind could not relate things in mortal terms it simply discarded it.
Her lovely writer had surfaced not long after she had begun talking to the Goblin King and they had both managed to sorely confuse each other before Sarah realized who she was talking to. Somehow, with each transition Jareth made, the physical differences between the two men became less apparent. It was strange to think that at some point there would stop being a difference entirely, yet she was looking forward to it. The simple fact was that, though Jareth's appearance was slowly changing, his personality was not; perhaps this teasing man had been hiding under the mask of the Goblin King ten years ago and she had simply not been able to see it.
Sarah let out a sigh and pulled up a spreadsheet, temporarily putting her thoughts to the side as she once again began to review the pinch her finances were in. Things weren't looking good, to put it mildly, which was made all the grimmer because of the fact that she hadn't had a single customer since opening the shop a few hours ago. She would be able to keep the business afloat, with a little creative juggling, but definitely wouldn't be fixing her roof or getting a new car anytime soon.
She had been about halfway to the back of the store, figuring she might as well take inventory if there was nothing else to do, when the door-chime rang.
The boy who entered was probably in his mid to late teens and looked like he was ditching classes to be there. His eyes lit up when they settled on her and Sarah almost did a double take as he drew closer. At a casual glance the boy bore a striking resemblance to Jareth: a long, slightly wild mane of blond hair, sharp facial features, and a lean dancer's build. But the similarities, somehow, became more subtle as he approached; up close she could see that his eyes were an even and clear hazel, his face was more boyish, he was slightly shorter, and simply didn't possess the same mocking air as her often sarcastic lover.
"Finally! It feels like I've been waiting ages to get you alone," he said once he had gotten close enough.
Sarah tried to take a subtle step away. "Do I know you?" she asked cautiously, trying to mentally gage the distance to the backroom where a handy little phone was waiting.
The boy's attention wavered for a second, catching on the same green dragon that her little goblin visitor had seemed so interested the day before. "Funny," he murmured, a cultured accent lacing his youthful voice, "it seemed so much more interesting yesterday."
She gaped at him. "Byron?"
He turned his focus back to her, a blank look in his eyes just seconds before a self-depreciating grin curled his lips. "Where are my manners? Oh course you wouldn't recognize me like this!" He gave a charming bow, his actions somehow paralleling the introduction he'd given her as a tiny goblin, "Lord Bunbury, at your service, but please, call me Byron."
"Lord?" Sarah asked curiously, "How on earth did you end up a goblin?"
His grin deflated a bit. "It's a long story," Byron replied in a subdued voice, "though you'll doubtlessly hear it in time."
Didymus shivered in the safety of his hiding place. The absolutely inhuman sound that the Goblin King had howled out was still rippling along magical waves. It was a sound so full of anguish and rage that Didymus figured whatever plan Hoggle and the Wise Man had settled on went well for them. He pitied them for when it would begin to go wrong because that was not the sound of a man who would be kind to his perceived enemies.
Ludo stretched his legs farther, willing the ground to pass more swiftly below him. His human had let out a sound like a fatally wounded wild animal, and it carried through the air, riding on the wind and trembling through the ground. Normal ears would never hear it, but cats had never been normal; Ludo, given his strange circumstances, was even less so.
Sarah was close. He wasn't sure how he knew, but somehow he could just feel her.
"So, let me get this straight," Sarah began. "After we went our separate ways you tried to disguise yourself as a mortal but…"
After setting identities straight, the pair had moved to a set of comfy chairs in the backroom and hadn't wasted time getting down to discussing what had happened over the last twenty-four hours.
"I channeled too much natural energy from the storm last night and somehow ended up breaking the magic that turned me into a goblin," Byron supplied.
"How is that even possible?" Sarah asked.
He made an emphatic gesture with both hands, "Humans can only be turned into goblins, not made goblins. It's a common misconception about magic; see, it can't really change what's there, only cover it up. Now, of course, after a long enough time the instincts would take over and it wouldn't really matter what you started out as."
"What sort of implications would that have for Jareth then?" she asked with a frown.
"It means," he supplied with a grin, "that no matter what Hoggle and Didymus think they're doing, the Goblin King will always be prowling just under Jareth's skin. Now, there are ways to subdue the magic that innately makes up that side of him, but he'll always be there."
That was fantastic news, Sarah thought. Still, the memory of a human version of Didymus played in her mind, darkening her thoughts. "I didn't know Hoggle was here too. What are those two up to?"
"I don't know what they're hoping to achieve, frankly," Byron said, "but it was plenty obvious that they're trying to keep him away from us so that they can keep the Goblin King aspect of Jareth sealed off and they're using the Wise Man to do it."
"And that's all you found out?" she pressed, letting out an explosive sigh when he nodded. "Damn. It's so frustrating not knowing what we're up against! I wish I knew what they were doing; I mean, they're my friends for crying out loud!"
"And if you had to choose?" the boy asked. "If you had to pick sides, where would your loyalties fall?"
"Don't ask me that, Byron," she replied in an uncertain whisper.
He gave her a gentle look, but it was full of sorrow. "I'm afraid I have to, Sarah. They're my friends too, you know. Hell, Didymus practically raised me!" His hand patted her own in a comforting gesture. "But despite that, I would still choose Jareth, a hundred times over if I had to. I hate to say it, darling, but this is war and I don't stand much of a chance working on my own, so if you're not fighting for Jareth then I might as well give up right now and let the Underground rot."
She didn't want to be at war, not when the lines were drawn and people she loved stood on both sides. It sounded so awful when he said it like that. But how much more awful would it be, a tiny voice whispered from within her, to have Jareth taken away? What sort of horror would life become if she never saw him again, never got to see the flash of his blond hair, or feel the shivers that would race up her spine when he gave her a particularly heated look? Could she go back to the way life had been before she had know the pleasure of his gentle teasing and his wonderful seduction?
Beware of conquest, the Goblin King had warned her; my lover, her writer had said in that dark voice of his.
He had already made his promises to her, and she had found herself making silent promises to him in return. Hoggle and Didymus would always have a warm place in her heart, but the simple fact was that it was a heart own by Jareth.
Byron must have followed the play of emotions on her face because he didn't press her for an answer. Instead he asked, "So, any progress on your side then?"
"I've gotten the Goblin King to come out a few times, but never for very long," she answered.
"Really? How did you manage that?"
Sarah blushed at the thought of how she had done it, her blood warming at the memory. It was absolutely not something she intended to share with her ex-goblin companion, but the quirking smile that he was fighting off and the knowing look in his eyes told he already knew. "Oh, you're wicked!" she accused. "Asking a girl to tell you something like that!"
He gave a laughing shrug. "My sense of propriety died around much the same time that society abandoned theirs." Byron chuckled at her increasing blush. "Quite the plan you've got there, binding the Goblin King through flesh. I know he writes all those torrid, sexual stories… so was he any goo-"
"I am not having this conversation," Sarah interrupted with a squeak, more embarrassed than if she had been having talking with Liz. Men and women weren't supposed to talk about these kind of things outside of their own sex! Byron obviously had spent too much time around Jareth in the past because they both teased in the same way.
Her companion had, no doubt, been about to make another horrible comment when something banged loudly against the front door of the shop.
Of all the things that had crossed her mind as she went to investigate the noise, a panting and feral looking Ludo had not once come up. The poor cat looked exhausted and the way he seemed to be favoring one leg suggested that he was perhaps injured. "You poor thing," she breathed, picking him up; he immediately burrowed deep into her embrace. "What happened to you?"
Byron came up behind her and let out a low whistle at the ragged sight of the huge cat. "Looks like he picked a fight with the wrong tom," he said, but then seemed to freeze as he came around to get a better look at the animal. "Ludo?" His hazel eyes shot up to Sarah's green ones.
She nodded, absently petting the fur that had matted in the afternoon drizzle while she looked for a towel to dry her orange friend with.
Byron grabbed her by the shoulder. "This creature," he said very slowly, very clearly, "has never left Jareth's side while in a cat form."
Sarah frowned, the worry in her stomach fanning itself at his words. "You think something happened to him?"
A nod was her only answer.
She didn't really remember leaving the shop, didn't remember making the decision to run through a steadily increasing rain rather than just use her phone to place a quick call, but, from one second to the next, she found herself racing over slick pavement, Byron not far behind her and Ludo tucked within the folds of her jacket. By the time they reached the small cabin atop the cliffs of Owl's Head all three of them were soaked to the bone.
Dread swamped over Sarah, suffocating her. Something about the place felt wrong, like an image that had been copied by an inexpert hand that had missed all the small details that brought the picture to life.
His car was gone.
Something ugly and desperate grabbed at her then. Without even stopping to think about it she flew to the front door and slammed it open.
The cabin was completely empty.
"I think I'm in danger of losing a lot around you, Vivian," Darrow murmured into her sweet shoulder. "My heart, for example."
Vivian snorted in disbelief.
Jareth snorted in disbelief as well, unable to fathom how he had written such crap. Not even ten months ago he had been flooded with ideas, inspiration buoyed by the flocks of lonely women leaving stores with his books clutched to their chests. But the praise had tapered off and been slowly replaced by a discontent murmur. When was the next book coming out? Could it possibly live up to his previous release?
He sighed and turned away from his computer to look out the window, restless gaze sweeping over the sleeping city below. As his eyes took in the varying lights and buildings he frowned, a sense of déjà vu flooding his veins.
A/N: This is what happens when people challenge me to write evil cliffhangers.
A special thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter; your encouragements made me get this one out as fast as I could!
Please Review!
Disclaimer: Anything from the movie Labyrinth is not mine. Owl's Head is a real place in Maine, though I think it's in the town next to Rockport rather than in Rockport itself.