Chapter 19. Requiem

Jareth was sleeping, not peacefully perhaps, but he was sleeping. Ghillie Dhu had done all he could for the injured King, now all they could do was wait for him to heal. But the Healer himself had doubt about some of the scars, for the King had waited a long time to call upon his services. Still he was a royal Fae, and they were unique and a law unto themselves. Ghillie Dhu could but wait, and keep watchful eye on the King's condition. Daisy promised Devon to keep him altered to any changes in the King's condition when the Baron arrived early the next day to check on the King. Della was missing from her post but one of the other Harpies had moved to fill in and Devon didn't really worry. Jareth's guards seemed to be on their own system of rotation, and he didn't try to interfere. He returned to his home to find that the young lady he'd brought home was now sitting in the garden on one of the ornate ornamental benches staring off into space.

"I had not expected to find you up," he said as he approached. "You look deep in thought."

Bryn looked at him, "I was thinking of my family."

He drew a long breath, "I see."

"No," she shook her head. "You don't."

Taking a seat beside her he observed her and considered his next words before speaking. "You are most likely right, I don't see. Perhaps if you'd be so kind as to instruct me, then..."

"They think I'm dead," she interrupted him flatly.

Devon experienced an emotion he'd not expected, guilt. "Yes, I'm afraid they do."

"It's not fair to them," she whispered deep in her own remorse. "They didn't do anything to deserve this mess." She stood up, unable to sit beside him. "Nor does Sarah's family… or Sarah, she does not deserve this… this is his fault! YOUR KING…" the resentment she felt would not be held back a moment longer.

"Cariad," Devon's tone was cautionary but bordered on threatening. "I should be careful how I speak were I you."

Frustrated and at her wits end Bryn spun on him. "Would you really My Lord?" Sarcasm dripped from her lips and contempt lit her eyes. "Well forgive me if I can not oblige you and behave like a properly whipped puppy."

He fought the urge to tell her how beautiful she was angry, and instead became antagonistic. "How is this, the fault of the Goblin King?" He had also put emphasis on the word King.

Bryn glared at him, knowing she was about to say something that she shouldn't. "He stole Sarah's dreams,"

"Harvested," corrected Devon gently.

"Harvested," Bryn corrected with a bite to her tone. "He didn't think of the consequences."

"The same can be said for your friend Sarah in having wished away her little brother," argued the blond Fae mischievously. "Could it not?"

"It's not the same," Bryn gasped not sure she heard him right and now very defensively. "That's like comparing apples and oranges."

"Fruit, is fruit." Devon said rising easily from the bench. "You say that this is Jareth's fault, while I counter with its Sarah's."

"She was a child when she wished Toby away, my Lord… can the same be said for Jareth?" Bryn growled menacingly.

"Apples and oranges," he mused with a delightful smile.

The man's attitude was too much for Bryn. "He stole her brother, he stole her dreams…" the girl began to rant.

"Now Cariad," Devon admonished gently. "Don't play ignorant with me, I'm sure you of all people are aware of the cannons. You know very well the Goblins can not take what is not offered… and as for her dreams… I believe we've discussed her forfeit of them as the price of her having won the boy back…"

"No, Baron," she snapped harshly. "We did not discuss it…you and that monster informed us that's the way it is…."

"That monster is my cousin, madam." Devon said coldly. "He is also the King of this realm and is due respect."

"My ass," she said turning her back on him. "Respect!"

Working to keep civil, Devon restrained himself from giving in to her taunt. With any other female he'd have sent them packing, but that was not an option here and he knew it. "He is not the one who declared this little war, now is he?"

"No," she spun about so hard that she nearly knocked him over. "He was perfectly content here in this little Fairy wonderland, while Sarah was holding on by threads."

"Content?" Devon reached forward, gripping her forearm to pull the girl forcefully toward him, glaring into her eyes he snarled. "You want to talk about holding on by threads… Until last night I've not seen him sooth himself with a single woman….and there have been any number who've offered… He's buried himself in the work of bringing this Kingdom back into its proper position, fighting for its identify, something that other Fae would have just as soon allowed to turn to dust. He has united countless scores of species in an effort to save the Kingdom!" His eyes burned with flames of pride. "He has worked until he's exhausted and he's done it all for the Kingdom!"

"She's been reduced to using medication and alcohol and still she finds no peace. For the love of the Gods and the seven Pillars, Baron, she can not bear to be touched….and she's like a tinderbox, ready to ignite! " Bryn countered struggling to break the Baron's hold. "If she's started this war, he drove her to it!"

"He offered her everything and she not only refused him, she rubbed his face in it!" Devon pushed the girl way, fearful of throttling her to the point of breaking her neck. "You would never understand…"

"Ditto!" Bryn turned and stomped off heading away from him, blindly.

"Cariad," he cried out sharply and pulled her back when her feet were nearly to the end of his lawn. He pulled her close, "No, you must never leave the estate, unless I am with you." His voice had become full of concern for her safety instead of full of fury. "I'm so sorry, Cariad." His arms folded about her, he kissed her hair, and held her close. "I'm sorry."

"It's not fair," she murmured as he held her rocking to and fro.

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Sarah opened her eyes, and winced in pain. The memory of where she was flooded her brain overwhelming her. She was back in the Underground, she was back in the land of the Labyrinth. Turning her head she saw the Harpy watching her with hawkish eyes. "You're still here," she said hoarsely.

Della looked at her with eyes that held no real interest in her. "Don't make a big deal out if…I just wanted to be sure you didn't die overnight… it would not please the king."

"ha," Sarah scoffed, then winced as every small movement caused her pain.

"Take my word for it, girly," Della sneered. "Had the Goblin King wished you dead, you'd be dead… not merely bruised."

"Mutilated," Sarah groaned rising up on unsteady elbows, she looked down at her uncovered breasts. Seeing the little rings dangling she wanted to weep. "He's mutilated me." Coldly she turned to look at the Harpy; "With your help." She looked about the room, gradually seeing it as not just a room, but as a torture cell of its own. "Where the hell am I?'

Della still seated on the window sill opened her wings for a good stretch. "You are in the tower of Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan. That's Slave of Bondage, in case you care to know. Or do you speak Goblin?"

"No," Sarah growled in return. "I don't speak Goblin…"

"Pity," Della commented in a harassing tone. "Perhaps you should consider leaning the language." She looked over her shoulder at the sun rising in the sky. "Well, as you had the good grace not to go and die in the night on me, I'll be taking my leave of you. I'm sure someone will come sometime to give you your meal… Until then, why don't you acquaint yourself with your surroundings? You're going to be here a very long time."

Tight lipped and angry, Sarah watched the tormenting Harpy turn and glide out of the window. She chided herself for the feelings of loneliness she experienced the moment her tormenter had departed. The Harpy had given her one good bit of advice; she should acquaint herself with the surroundings. Rolling carefully to her side, making sure she didn't disturb the tender wounds, Sarah dangled her legs off the side of the bed. Placing her now bare feet on the stone floor she wondered if she could stand. Her shoulders ached, as did her legs from having struggled with the bindings used during her visit to the King's dungeon. She felt weak, shaky and still a bit nauseous. Carefully she stood up and gave herself a moment to adjust.

By the angle of the sun and the amount of light coming into her chamber, Sarah could tell it was still early in the morning. She wondered what time it was back at home, she was not even sure what day it was. Her measurement of time had seemed to have gone astray and vanished. Her breathe was very deep as she sighed, ruefully. Time as she knew it no longer really mattered.

The chamber was circular, nearly the same size as the throne room over all, Sarah surmised. The bed was not quite full sized but bigger than a twin. The frame was heavily carved, and the mattress seemed to be too firm to be just feathers. The walls were the same color as those in the Goblin Throne room, and had widows that were open to allow airflow. The one window that was closest was the one she'd been carried through. There was no ledge, no balcony, and no guardrail or balustrade. It was wide enough for a Harpy to enter, and very tall. Sarah wondered if there were ways to shut out the cold or the storms that must occasionally occur here.

The chamber was littered with ornate furnishings, a table that must have been used to feed the prisoner who lived here. A few heavy chairs not unlike the one the King had sat upon in the dungeon. A heavy ornately carved armoire, and some things that Sarah didn't even want to know the purpose of. She moved on unsteady legs, holding to the backs of chairs as she passed them. Slowly she made her way to an area that was set aside from the rest of the round chamber by a long tall silken curtain. Pulling the fabric back she found what to all intents and purposes was a privy and bathing area. While not the lap of luxury, it was at least better than a chamber pot and a basin. Sarah dreaded using the privy, fearful of what pain it would cause the tender area that had been assaulted. But nature would not be denied and she gave in at last to the urges of her bodily functions. There had been pain, just as she'd expected, but she lived though it.

In this modesty bathing area was a deep basin sink, with a pump handle for water. Above it was a tarnished metal mirror; Sarah didn't care for the reflection that looked back at her. There was a deep, wide basin formed from the rock or stone tiles that the room was constructed from, with a drain in the bottom. Sarah figured it had to be some kind of bath, and she would learn how it worked. Right now she didn't give a flying fig. Her hand moved the pump at the sink and cold water poured out of the spout. Sarah quickly cupped her hands beneath it and brought the cold water to her face. Pumping again she cupped the water in her hands and rinsed out her mouth. She repeated this a few times until she got the stale taste out of her mouth. Then she rinsed her face off once more before drying it in the soft linen that was hanging. Sarah wondered who else had used this chamber and now recently. She looked again at her reflection and grimaced.

Still unsteady on her legs, she moved carefully at a snails pace though the chamber until she reached the bed. Lowering herself carefully, she took a seat and drew the linen sheet up over herself. Only then did she allow herself to think of her family, and of the mess she'd left above. Tears welled, she fought them but they spilled out of her. There was only one good thing that had come of this, and that was Toby was still free. Sarah told herself she could endure anything that the Fae King could throw at her as long as the boy was free.

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Della arrived at the corridor outside the King's bed chamber to find Daisy and a Harpy guard staring each other down. Della snapped her fingers and the Harpy inclined her head slightly before wordlessly taking her leave. Della looked down at the blurry eyed Goblin and snorted. "You look like hell, runt." Taking her position and crossing her arms she shook her head. "You shouldn't drink if you can't handle your liquor."

Daisy leaned on the wall, crossed her arms and looked the Harpy up and down wincingly. "You sleep in a windstorm?" she said at last, "I've seen better wings on a roast chicken."

Della ignored the comment and looked at the door of the King's chamber. "He sleeping?"

"Ghillie Dhu says he may need bed rest for as long as a week to remove all the poisons." Daisy sighed. "Those witches were rank amateurs… Magic in the hands of the knowing is dangerous enough… but in the hands of an unsupervised novice…" she grimaced. "There's an old Goblin saying, a little knowledge is a dangerous thing." She shook her head and sighed again. "They had just enough knowledge to be a danger to the King." Daisy snorted lightly. "Little wonder magic is a dying art on that side of the veil, and perhaps it's a good thing it is… If this is what happens when the powers are used by novices… Never heard of anything so foolish… working with magic without some one leading and teaching them…" Swiftly she changed the subject. "Was your trip back to the nest informative?"

"I've as many or more questions," Della mused. "I shall have to spend some time reading the glyphs." She confessed with some unease. "Luckily the Matron does read glyph… she can instruct me."

"Education is always a good thing," Daisy rested against the wall easily. "Knowledge is a valued treasure." She then shifted. "Surely you didn't spend the entire night reading the glyphs."

"No," Della said crossing her arms over the leather harness she wore. "I spent the night making sure the little Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan didn't expire in the night."

Daisy snorted, sounding amused. "That one? Oh birdie, that one is far more resilient than you could ever know."

Seeing servants moving about, Della took on a more guarded stance, as did Daisy. Della looked at the other and said quietly. "You'll have to tell me about it sometime, runt."

"Sure, birdie." Daisy said as she watched the other end of the corridor.

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Carefully and quietly Devon led Bryn back to the bench they'd been seat upon. Gently he urged her to sit while he knelt before her. Her hands were in her lap, he placed his over hers. "I deeply regret any sorrow I've been party to brining to your family, Cariad." He said consolingly.

Moss green eyes, red with tears looked at him in misery. "It's just so…"

"Unfair?" he questioned, and sighed deeply. "Yes, my dear, it is." Giving her hands a gentle squeeze he spoke carefully. "I could if you like, go above and cheek on things for you… give you a report on your family's… condition."

"I'm not sure that's a wise thing to do," Bryn admitted. "Perhaps it's best if I… let it go."

"Cariad," his voice was tender, considerate and thoughtfully selfless. "It's perfectly understandable that you need to mourn just as much as they do."

Bryn looked at him with concern. "I thought you said you'd never gone above before…that I was the first mortal you've had a close encounter with…"

"I admit," he said softly. "Your concerns above are not my only reasons for making such a journey… Some of my concerns are for the safety of my King and this Kingdom."

"I see," Bryn sniffed.

"Pax," Devon whispered leaning toward her and imploring her with a soft expression in his blue eyes.

"Fine," she sighed soberly. "Pax."

Devon rose and pulled her to her feet. "I shall report to you my findings… but I won't sugar coat the truth, Cariad. I will tell you the truth as I find it."

"That seems just," she agreed as he walked her back to the house. "How soon will you leave?"

"Immediately," he said boldly. "I've been to the castle, and the King is still recovering…" he moved on quickly, not wishing to discuss his cousin again with the girl, not yet. "I've no pressing duty at the castle today, and there are no audiences to be held… so I am free to go and investigate." He raised one of her hands and pressed it to her heart. "Promise me that you'll await my findings, and that you won't try to…escape."

"I won't leave the grounds." She promised.

"Good, perhaps you might find amusement in my library." He suggested as he led her though the house to the room filled with books. "I've a rather good one, you know."

"Don't most Fae?" she asked haughtily.

"Actually, no," he lamented. "I shall leave you here to amuse yourself." He patted her cheek then vanished.

"Damn good trick," Bryn mused softly. "Would have come in handy…" She moved to one shelf and began to look at the titles of some of the bindings. A few titles were in English, and she felt that was where she needed to start.

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Devon materialized on the other side of the veil that separated the Fae world from the mundane one. He was on the grounds of the asylum, and was struck by the curious and unmistakable scent of his cousin the King. It was already mid morning here, and Devon could feel the chill in the air that told him the harvest season was in full swing. It had been warmer two nights ago when he'd come to rescue his cousin. He could see that there was little activity going on here now, but that there had been. He also knew the mortals had gleaned little in their investigations. The rubble was still smoldering, and looked relatively undisturbed.

He stayed stealthy, not wishing to be seen by any stray human who would be wondering about the grounds. It was easy enough to follow his cousin's scent trail, and he entered the little house, and moved up the stairs as Jareth had. He looked into the room that the girl Sarah had occupied. Picked up his cousin's scent clinging to the room nearly as strongly as the girl's scent, and found that somewhat amusing. Making his way down the hall he found the room that belonged to the girl in his keeping. The room was like her, orderly and with purpose, and much to his liking. He also could see it had been picked over. He wondered what it was Jareth had come here to retrieve, and made a mental note to ask the King about it later.

Moving back down the stairs Devon noticed a group of leather clad men gathering somberly. He magically placed himself closer to attend their conversation. All the men in the group had subdued and solemn expressions.

"Snake," one asked the man who seemed to be giving instructions. "Are you sure Bear is alright with this?"

"It was his idea," the man said gravely. "A way to honor Bryn and Sarah…"

A mountain of a man looked like he was on the verge of tears. "It's just not right," he grumbled. "No body found, no trace… not a bone…" He looked at the one called Snake with eyes full of misery. "Sarah was so strong; who'd have thought the earth could swallow her?"

Snake snorted, "I'd have thought after she shot you with that dart in the nuts you'd have hated her, Yuri."

"Takes a hell of a woman to take on me," Yuri mused. "I will always remember Sarah that way… one hell of a woman."

"I'll be damned," Snake smacked the man's chest. "You really did have a crush on her."

"Several of us had," one man sitting on a two wheeled contraption that Devon didn't recognize said. "After all she was not spoken for. Bear had and has Lil, you had Bryn, and …"

Snake shook his head, "I didn't have Bryn… I wish I had, but I didn't…. She allowed me to keep company with her. Nothing more than that…"

Devon could tell by the man's demeanor that he had been truly fond of the girl who now in his keeping. He continued to listen.

"What about Lil?" one of the men asked. "Is she going to be at this memorial?"

Snake shuddered lightly, thinking of how devastated Lilith had been; of how her mind seemed so fragile right now. "Bear says she will, but he also said they have her drugged to the gills. At least she'll be controlled."

The mountain of a man spoke again. "The cops and security at the University won't freak when we come roaring in, will they? Last thing we need is to be arrested at the memorial."

Snake shook his head, "Bear took care of it…. And his father greased enough palms to make our presence a bit more palatable." He looked at his wrist. "Time to saddle up boys… this shindig won't wait for anyone."

Devon watched them go, roaring off on the motorized vehicles he was not familiar with. Their trail was strong enough that he followed it with ease to the grounds of the University. He felt the presents of Bryn's scent, and found it oddly comforting. Looking about he mused at the attire worn by the mortals. Suits for the more authoritative, and garments he would never have lowered his standard to wear by what must be the student body. He took on a glamour causing his garments to appear appropriate to the time. He could see a crowd gathering on the green, even thought he day was slightly chilly. The sun was shinning giving a bit of warmth though the leave bare trees. Devon followed the crowd to where seats were set up and already being filled by students and instructors. What he'd mistaken for a green, was actually an open air amphitheater. He could hear the roar of the contraptions the leather men had rode in on, and he saw them take seats at the back of the crowds.

Near the front of the seating were two families. Two fathers, two mothers, united in grief. Students filled in the seats behind them and off to the side. Devon could tell Sarah's family from Bryn's with ease. Sarah had the same coloring as the woman resting her head on the shoulder of a man who had oddly Fae features. Devon mused that somewhere in the past one of his ancestors must have had a wonderful sexual fling with one of the High King's relations; the features of the High King's Kin were unmistakable. The woman's profile was very like her daughter's, and she had features that a Fae male could appreciate. Beside her, on the other side was a man that could only be Sarah's father, dark and brooding and boldly handsome. His arm was protectively about the shoulders of a pale creature with strawberry blond locks who was sobbing softly. She was holding a little fair haired boy on her lap. Devon knew that had to be the wished away boy that Sarah had won back at the cost of her dreams. He was struck by the look of the child, so out of place in this mundane setting, in this mundane world. The child didn't look sad, he looked peeved. As if he knew far more than the adults weeping about him.

Bryn's father looked lean and wiry, not barrel chested like Sarah's father. He looked like a man who'd seen a good deal of life, and not all of it pleasant. His eyes were the same mossy green as his daughter. But it was from the mother that Bryn had received her shock of reddish gold locks, a deeper red that shone in the sun. There was no other child seated beside them. Devon thought he'd have to ask Bryn more of her history when he'd a chance.

Devon moved closer to the front and off to one side. Both Sarah's mother and Bryn's suddenly stirred, and looked about. Devon found that disquieting and kept as well hidden as he could. Something had alerted both mothers, and he wondered if the magic the daughters possessed was something inherited not just wrestled from the universe. He'd heard of families who had possessed powers that were handed down like fine silver or china would be… He also knew the mundane world didn't tolerate magic and those who possessed it. He had heard stories told in the High King's court of dreams and others being chided and ridiculed into silence by the powers of the mundane world. He also knew that both Sarah and Bryn were naturals when it came to using magic, not so much for the third little witch who was drawing off the other two. Using his powers to cloak his presence he watched as a dark haired young man escorted the third little witch to a seat awaiting her across the isle from the two families. The girl was clearly under some kind of sedation. Her eyes were glassy and she looked numb, and her mouth was slack.

A man who obviously held some station of importance walked soberly across the staging and stood behind the podium, moved the microphone and spoke. "On behalf of the Williams and the Cystennin families, I thank you for coming to this memorial service. We are here to remember two fellow students. Sarah, and Bryn, whose lives were tragically cut short…."

Devon listened to the eulogy, and wondered if the man speaking had ever even taken the time to speak to either of the witches he was eulogizing. He stepped aside and the man who had led Lilith to her seat now moved forward. His face was serious, and filled with darkness.

"Bryn Cystennin, and Sarah Williams were both friends of mine… and I loved them like sisters…" He started eloquently. "Anyone who knew Bryn as a friend was fortunate, her loyalty and strength of character were amazing… she had a personality that never overshadowed anyone else's ego. She was loving, forgiving and intelligent. And will be miss by all whose lives she touched."

Devon found he had to agree with that assessment; Bryn Cystennin was a most intelligent woman. He looked candidly at her parents and wished he could spare them this. He wondered if there was a way he could help them cope with the loss without giving too much away. From the family he turned to look over at the third witch the one left behind. She was glassy eyed but muttering something and being shushed by the nurse who was seated with her.

"Sarah," the dark man began. "What can I possibly say about Sarah?" He looked at her family with what he'd hoped would come across as sympathy. He also looked at Lilith who was moaning audibly Sarah's name and crying bitter tears. "She was strong willed, and determined, and didn't suffer fools well." He looked back toward the back of the crowd, eyes meeting with Yuri. "She was open and accepting and if she was your friend you had someone on your side that would battle the very Gods themselves. If she was your foe," he paused. "Gods could not help you." He thought of the fate of Doctor Daniels, and a wistful smile played in the corner of his mouth. "All of us who knew her were aware of how fiercely loyal she was and of the importance she placed on family. Especially the value she viewed her in brother." He looked at the little boy who had been glaring at him with daggers in his blue eyes from the moment he'd taken the podium. "Those of us left behind must how honor her memory…and think of him as a member of our own families…just as Sarah was our sister…" He looked back at the bikers, giving them a quiet command.

Robert was disturbed by this, and pulled his wife and son closer. Devon saw the motion. A few others spoke praises as well, and the Fae Baron sat quietly listening to gain some insight on the fiery young woman in his keeping. He heard the complements and the endearments. What were missing were the comments on her fire, her passion, and her inspiration. Devon began to wonder if any of these people really had any connection to the girl. Until the man who'd been sitting in the very back of the gathering with the bikers walked forward. The one who had been called Snake moved to the podium and opened a book and read.

"What though the radiance which was once so bright be now forever taken from my sight, Thought nothing can bring back the hour of splendor in the grass, of glory in the flower; We will grieve not, rather find strength in what remains behind…"

The young man closed the book and looked at the gathered young people and the families. "That was one of Bryn's favorite poems… one over which she and I had argued on the meaning and depth of." He said wistfully. "No one could argue a point quite like Bryn, she didn't even have to raise her voice to make her point. She was full of life, and energy and fire…and I… loved her…" he admitted to the world what had been on his sleeve from the moment he'd met the red haired girl. "I loved her… Bryn would not want mourning and grieving. She would want us to go on with our lives and strive to do better… she would charge each of us to go forth and do battle for justice and for honor. To find strength in what remains…." He left the podium quietly.

Devon watched as the young mortal returned to the group in the back. A prayer was read, and everyone began to move forward to give their condolences to the families. The young man who was seemingly the new keeper in control of the third witch was one of the first to go forward. He'd left the moaning Lilith in the nurse's hands as he went. Devon watched him shake hands with both fathers and say something supportive to the two mothers. He noticed that Linda didn't seem to want to hear what he had to say. It was as the man began to walk away that Devon noticed the little boy glaring at him. The man paused looked over his shoulder and raised a brow before turning his attention back to Lilith.

Devon had not planned on saying anything to the families. He was surprised when he found himself standing before Bryn's parents. "My heart felt condolences for your loss." He said quietly.

Bryn's mother stared at him. "Do…we know…you?" she asked hesitantly. In her eyes was something akin to recognition.

Thinking quickly Devon answered. "No, I've only recently made your daughter's acquaintance. However I was very impressed by her." He restrained from making any bodily contact. "I am sorry for your loss."

"Thank you," Errol said quietly, an arm about his wife for support.

Devon was not going to speak to the Williams as they were surrounded by well wishers. And having narrowly escaped detection by Bryn's mother, he didn't want to chance it with contact with Sarah's mother. He turned to walk away and was nearly at the end of the amphitheater seating area when a hand gripped his coat and pulled at him. He turned and looked down into eyes that were dark with fury.

"Where are they?" the little boy demanded darkly, gritting his teeth.

"Whom?" Devon asked back making an effort to appear slightly perplexed by the child's question.

"My sister and her friend… where are they?" the five year old demanded again.

Devon looked back at where the parents were still being surrounded. "What makes you think I would know?"

Now the boy was growling. "Because someone like you has them," he said with more conviction and maturity than a five year old mortal child should or could have. However this was no ordinary five year old mortal child.

Devon looked at him; he was changing, and aware. His time in the Goblin Castel may have been short, although by what Devon could see, it was long enough. The child was a changeling; "Someone like I? I'm not sure what you mean, lad." He waved his hand, meaning for the child to return to his parents. "Be a good boy and go back to your parents… they need you now."

"And I need my sister!" his little hand was balled into a tight white fist. "I want her back! And I want her back now."

"Indeed," Devon mused looking down. "You remind me of a boy I knew a long time ago, He didn't like being having things taken from him either… still doesn't for that matter." The Baron mused at how very like Jareth this boy was; odd coincidence.

The lower lip on the little boy began to tremble, but not with tears, with fury. "You're not like the rest of these people here… you're different… and someone like you came and took my sister away…"

Devon knelt, becoming eye level with the child. "So sure are you?"

"I know what I know," Toby snapped, crossing his arms and looking haughtily at the Baron. "Now you go tell whoever he is that I want my sister back! And I won't rest until I get her back."

"How like Jareth you are," Devon mused softly. The child was mimicking the King's very mannerism.

The name struck a cord with the boy, and the blue eyes went stormy. "Jareth," he repeated the name. He grabbed the man by the lapels. "You tell this Jareth I want my sister and her friend returned."

Devon stood up, looking down at the boy with a haughty expression of his own. "Sorry little man, I fear for now you'll have to learn to live with disappointment." He mused the boy could be trouble some time, and would bear watching. "Now go back to your mother, and behave."

"I'll find a way," the boy threatened before turning his back on the Fae Baron.

"I'd wager you could," Devon muttered as he allowed magic to swallow him away from the mundane world.

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Ari had asked the nurse to take Lilith to the car that was waiting. He found Snake and Yuri standing guard and looked at them. "If anyone asks, Lilith is my girl…understood?"

Snake looked at the drugged girl in the back of the limo. "You intend to keep her in a stupor the rest of her life?"

"At least while the Williams and the Cystennin families are in town." Ari stated before waving Yuri off so he could have words with Snake.

"Can't be much fun in that condition," the other mused.

"She's not," Ari complained bitterly. "However I'm not taking any chances… she was muttering during the eulogies. Imagine if she was not drugged." Looking into the limo he rolled his eyes. "She'd have caused a scene, and there'd be more questions… as it is there's a little too much…questioning going on." He leaned on the limo and pinched his nose. "We're going to have to clear out the house and get everyone off site, do you think you can get a crew to meet me there tomorrow and close the house the girls were using?"

"Sure, Yuri and I will put together a team." Snake nodded. "How many of us do you want?"

"Six boys should be plenty, and bring a truck…" Ari opened the back door of the limo. "Be there early."

Snake shook his head and watched the man drive off.

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Devon didn't return directly to his own home, he went straight to the castle. As he approached the corridor his cousin's bedchamber occupied, he noted the grim faces of the two guards. "Is he awake?" he asked Daisy.

"And in a foul humor," she warned as she opened the door to allow him to enter. "Enter at your own risk," she teased. "And don't blame me if he snaps your head off."

Devon winked at her and continued to go in. He found the King sitting up in his bed looking at notes and petitions. "Good Goddess man," he grabbed the scroll in the King's hands away. "You were nearly at death's door yesterday, so give yourself time to rest. All this can wait for a day or two."

"I've a Kingdom to run!" Jareth countered pulling the scroll back. "There are many little issues that must be dealt with before they become big problems."

"Ah yes, well you've got one such little issue above." Devon said taking a seat on the large bed. "And he could become a big problem."

"He," Jareth frowned. "What were you doing above and who are you hinting at?"

"I went to make sure we didn't leave anything behind that shouldn't have been…could have saved myself that part of the trip…as you went back…Don't bother denying, I'd know your scent any where."

The King shrugged, "I had to be sure there was nothing left behind that would give our existence away. All the books and tools of magic used by the three were confiscated and are now is safe keeping. So why else did you stay above?"

Devon stretched. "I then attended the memorial service that was held for the girls…"

Jareth looked away from his cousin and back at the scroll, "That sounds droll." His tone was laced with haughty sarcasm. "Did you pass on our condolences?"

"Oh it was droll," Devon lounged back; "Especially when I was accosted and threatened by one very angry little boy." With great satisfaction he watched as his cousin dropped the scroll and turned his attention fully to Devon. "He sent you a message…"

"He sent me a message?" Jareth tried not to look too pleased. "Really, and what pray tell was it?"

Devon sat up, "I quote, 'You tell this Jareth I want my sister and her friend returned.' Unquote… oh and by the by, he seemed to know I was not like the other people attending….The little imp said that he knew someone like me had come and taken his sister and her friend away. He was quite adamant about it, bordering on rude."

"The rascal," Jareth mused happily; "Anything else?"

"Yes," Devon said with care; "He said he'd find a way to get her back."

Jareth chuckled softly, "I'll bet he would, if it were possible. Ah well, I imagine if I make a trip above to see him…"

"Out of the question!" Barked the Baron swiftly; "You are very ill, you'll stay put and that child will wait." He stood up. "You haven't been sneaking off to look at him all along have you?"

"No," Jareth said honestly, but didn't mention the Goblins who made it there business to keep an eye on the child in the name of the King. "I've not seen him since the night I…lost him." There was something in Jareth's voice that warned his cousin to ask nothing else in the matter of the boy.

"Well good," Devon stated looking at him worriedly. "Now, I must go tell Miss Cystennin how her funeral went."

"Give her my regards," Jareth said as he opened the scroll again. Remembering something he looked at his cousin. "You did get her to eat something didn't you? You have to make sure that the girl is bound to the kingdom…" he warned slightly angry. "It must be impossible for her to leave here…it's the only reason I agreed to you keeping her…"

"I'm as well aware of the Persephone Cannon are you are, cousin." Devon said icily. "And so was the girl, she took food and drink of her own volition." He smiled softly remember the pleasant dinner.

Jareth waved the slightly gloating man off. "Go, run to your pretty painted bird." He looked now to his scrolls.

Devon bowed and took his leave.

The moment the Baron was gone, Jareth lowered his scroll and thought of the boy and wondered how he was going to manage to trick that little imp into coming into the Kingdom on his own. Because the girl had more or less won him back, Jareth could not do anything about him on the other side but watch and make sure no harm befell in until he was of age…unless the child wished himself away or was wished away again. Were that to happen the King would be free to lay claim to him as a subject of the Goblin Realm. Jareth reclined and remembered the baby and wondered what kind of child little Toby had turned out to be.

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Devon found Bryn sitting quietly in the room he'd left her in, with a book in her hands. She was seated in one of his favorite chairs, looking very comfortable and peaceful. "What are you reading?" He asked as he entered the room.

"A book of poems…you've a rather good collection. Although I can't read some of the books printed in what I assume are Fae languages." She commented looking up from the book. "How are things…above?"

"Somber," he answered truthfully. "They had a rather thoughtful ceremony for the families." He took a seat in the seat that was the mate to the one she was occupying. "Your parents seemed very nice…"

"You talked to them?" Her face darkened, then the moment passed and she seemed resolute once more. "How did that go?"

"I offered them my condolences on their loss." He answered honestly. "I shall tell you all about it at dinner." He promised. "But now I've an hour of work awaiting me, reports I need to see to for the King. You should continue your reading." He rose and smiled at her. "I'll see you at dinner."

Bryn watched the man walk gracefully away. "Oh you think you'll see me, Baron," she mused. "But you see just what I allow you to see…" She stood up, moved to the desk and pulled the book she'd hidden under the desk out once more. She was going to learn all she could, and perhaps more than the Baron intended her to know. She looked at the other books, and wondered how she could learn the languages that were covered in all these volumes.

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Night was falling in the kingdom of the Labyrinth. Goblins were scurrying to their homes, and the other residents of the Kingdom were hurrying home as well. In a tower attached to the castle beyond the Goblin City sat a girl who was lamenting her failed attempt to win back her dreams. Having spent the day watching shadows crawl up the wall, she wondered if her night was to be spent listening to the sounds of the kingdom going home and to bed. She sat in the darkening room, lamenting over her failures and gloating over her one major success. Toby belonged to her parents, not to the King. And he would remain so.

She heard the rumble of her stomach for the one hundredth time that day. Walking slowly she made her way to the sink and cupped her hands under the pump and took a few short sips. It was not nourishment but it did work to quiet the rumblings. Once she'd sipped down some more water, she returned to her bed and watched as the moon began its rise. Quietly she wondered to herself how Bryn was, and if she were being treated well.

Sarah wondered what time it was, or day for that matter. How long had she been here in the land of the Labyrinth? When her stomach again complained, she tried to remember when she'd last eaten. Water was not doing it; her stomach was growling and churning. To take her mind off her growing hunger, she walked to the window. Carefully she stood so she could look out without fear of falling. The Harpy had been right; it was a long nasty fall to the base. Slowly she descended, until se was seated on the cold stone floor looking out at the Underground night.

Sarah's last trip here had not allowed her time to really appreciate all the sights and sounds and smells. She'd been on a mission, one that was too important to mess up sight seeing. The rose and purple that had filled the sky when the sun had gone down had now vanished and the sky was a velvety blanket of darkness littered with stars. Resting her head on the wall, Sarah listened to the sounds that had been filed in her memory. She wondered if anyone in the Labyrinth would remember her. What was it the King and his cousin had said about shifting memories? She wondered how her friends had faired… she had promised to call them if she'd needed them, and had wanted to…however she had held back fearful of what Jareth could or would do to them.

She could hear the guard in the palace changing, she could hear the sounds of dogs and cats and other creatures. And she could hear her stomach. Once more she wondered how long it had been since her last bite, and how long it would be until her next.

The cold stones were not helping; she was feeling stiff as well as achy. Rising to her feet she moved slowly back to the bed and sat down. She wondered if the pain would ever leave her. "Dear Goddess," she murmured dejectedly. "How could you turn your back on me?" Sarah lowered her self to the mattress and again allowed her bitter tears to flow. "How could you let him win?" Exhausted, and worn down by lack of food, the girl felt the world fading, and darkness enfold her in a dreamless world.

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Author's note:

The Persephone Cannon or the Persephone Rule also known as the Hades edict;

A good many of you have asked what this is… Well it's a rule that's written in stone. Never eat or drink anything in a Fae Kingdom if you are not a Fae. Having once eaten the food of the underworld, Persephone could never be free of the place. Therefore anyone who eats the food of the underworld or the Fae Kingdoms is now subject to its claim on them.