It took 71 days for me to die, if I counted them from the day the Goblin King came to see me. I at least kept my promise to hold the rest of it dear, or I tried, because those days were pulled from me.

The hunger in my heart, the physical ache for magic I did not have, gnawed at me. Exhaustion bloomed in my body like nothing I'd ever experienced, and it grew outward to show the world: weight loss, sunken and dull eyes. When I passed people with my awkward steps, they either stared or avoided looking at me, both out of fear. And I was afraid. I was so very afraid but I couldn't fathom what he would want instead.

You can have Toby. I'd sooner have died.

You can have me. I was already dying so it was worthless.

Your kingdom can rot. But he knew me—those infuriating eyes and that damn grin said, Oh, I know you, Sarah. And he had been right when he was in my room last.

Hoggle, Ludo, the fairies, the fireys, the goblins—and hell, maybe even the king of the goblins. I didn't want their blood on my hands.

I was not a murderer. I was simply suicidal instead, it seemed.

Even though I was a husk, an empty doll, I went into school because it gave me something to do, something to cling hard to, an excuse to give my parents when they said Sarah, we're worried about you, and I could say But I'm doing well in school; I'm just tired—

I almost laughed when I said it. Tired. I almost laughed the whole time Karen and I talked about college and then I went to my room and cried and I whispered into the pillow, Goblin King, if you come to me right now, I'll kill you—

I blinked down at my hands and saw I'd been rubbing at the desk in homeroom, and they were smeared with black ink from where a student had written something, now illegible. My mind felt like it had become unsnared from my skull and it simply went where it wished, and the past and present were one big ink smear. I couldn't tell them apart.

I tried to look ahead. The seat in front of me was empty. Ashley should have been next to me. She hadn't missed a day in three years—perfect attendance looked great on scholarship applications, she'd told me. She'd come in with the flu, with scratches on her face, with anything and everything.

I stood, somehow, inked fingers leaning on the smooth plastic desktop. I didn't, couldn't, hide my stumbling as I approached the teacher's desk. "Mr. Drew, could I go to the nurse's office? I feel awful."

He glanced up at me, then looked again. "Sure, Williams." I thought he scribbled a note, but I couldn't see his pen. I blinked and somehow found myself in the hallway, bag on my back, hand clenched and note crumpled within. Had I blacked out? I pressed my hand to my forehead and found it sweaty, hair clinging to my skin. My heart thudded so very slowly. Steps awkward, I made it to the exit and broke out into the blinding, awful sunshine.

Ashley. I had to get to Ashley.

I tried to walk quickly but couldn't. My heart was too slow, so slow, and my muscles stayed frozen, cold. A sound came out of my mouth—impotence—as I crawled along the sidewalk. No, shit—I was actually crawling; at some point I'd dropped to my hands and knees. The stones and dirt dug roughly into my flesh. Eventually my body failed completely, and I simply collapsed on the concrete. I tried to move, but all I managed to do was roll into the street. "Fucking awesome," I spat into the asphalt. "Squashed by a car."

"I suppose it's appropriate that this would end where it began."

I managed, with my last bit of strength, to crane my neck up. The Goblin King stood there, in the black armor he'd worn the first time we'd met, and when we'd met in the street. This street—it was the same stretch of road where he'd approached me. "The way forward is the way back, I guess," I mumbled. I glanced around, blinking the sweat from my eyes. It was the same road, but things were so still: birds gone, trees motionless, and a woman across the street who was a statue in her yard. It was all I could see before my head hit the hot ground out of weakness, and ow. "Did you...?"

"I did, precious. I don't want anyone interrupting us." I realized then how far away he was.

"Come closer, why don't you? I won't get to see you bleed, but it'd satisfy me nonetheless."

"Still mad, I see."

"Just disappointed." Nausea blanketed me for a moment, and I almost gagged, but eventually my stomach settled. "I wish the Goblin King could come closer without being hurt," I choked out. Saliva was flooding my mouth.

I heard his boots clicking on the street. "Thank you."

"I'm dying, aren't I? Right now."

"Yes, precious."

I desperately wanted to do something, feel something, but it was the pinnacle of effort for me to speak. "So much...so much I haven't...I'm not ready," I hissed.

"Wish, Sarah. You'll recover Underground once you have the magic."

I started laughing, I think; the saliva that dripped out of my mouth was tinged with swirls of blood. I almost expected it to be black. "It's not fair," I mimicked myself.

"You have an excellent sense of humor for a dying woman."

"I'm not alone. Maybe—" I coughed. "Maybe that's why."

His cool, leather-gloved hand touched my arm. That huge cavern in my chest seemed to double in size, as though pulling at him. "Wish, Sarah. Please. You don't have long."

"An eternity with you, Goblin King?"

"Jareth."

"No. Well, fuck it—Jareth. Can't be afraid of your name if I'm going to..." Die. If I'm going to die. My heartbeat had slowed to such a crawl that I doubted it was occurring at all. All of my thoughts came slowly, except for, I don't want this. I don't want to die.

"Sarah, precious, please. Please don't do this." Was his hand on my back? "My kingdom needs you. It will be irrevocably damaged without you."

"And its king?"

He paused. I pictured thin lips pressing together before he confessed, "Terrified at the thought of you gone."

"Bet fear looks good on you," I whispered, and so much spit was flowing by that point I could barely speak.

There was silence for a moment. I gasped and wheezed hard to keep breathing. "Look at you," he murmured, and even then I couldn't think, and I would dissect his tone endlessly later on, curious but unsurprised, sympathetic and hateful. He was different from me—his plane of existence was not mine. He could be things I couldn't understand yet and I certainly didn't understand them then, so I only whimpered awfully. He pressed a hand to my forehead and something inside of me howled in hunger. "Please," he said softly, in that same indiscernible tone.

"Please," I echoed.

His hand sunk deep into my hair, maybe, because my body felt blurry at the edges. "Last chance, Sarah. Say your right words."

My ear was solid against the asphalt. It was so hot still, so hot. I didn't know the last time I'd heard my heartbeat and oh god he was right, this was it—"I...I wish the Goblin King would take me away right now."

"Thank you," he breathed in complete triumph and relief, and something inside me clenched and cramped at the sound of it, but before I could retch I was gone.

Yes, I posted 3 and 4 together! I really do want them to be separate chapters (they're quite different) but I'm so eager to move onto the next part of this story. I hope you enjoyed them (and whether you did or not, feel free to let me know).