THREE
Sarah didn't quite know how she made it back. After seeing the owl, it was all pretty much a blur from the time she fled the scene straight up until she pounded up the back steps of the wraparound porch, so winded from running that she could hardly breathe. She let herself into the house through the kitchen entrance and headed straight for her room. Catching sight of herself in the decorative mirror hanging in the hall, she paused to examine her reflection, pulled a face at the sight. She looked an utter wreck. Twigs and leaves had tangled in her hair, her face was bright red from her flight through the woods, and several stinging welts had raised across her cheeks where low-hanging branches must have caught her. She didn't even remember running into them, and certainly hadn't felt them when they'd hit her.
Taking deep breaths to get her heart and racing pulse back under control, she crept down the hall, making her way stealthily toward the stairs while praying she wouldn't be noticed. No such luck.
"Good heavens, Sarah! What happened?" Robert exclaimed as he caught sight of his disheveled daughter attempting to sneak past the living room.
Sarah cursed silently to herself. Just her luck, the entire family was gathered. Her parents and grandparents were watching White Christmas as Toby entertained himself with a pair of homemade paper bag puppets. All eyes immediately turned to her, and she shifted uncomfortably.
"Um. I … I saw something in the forest. I thought maybe it was, uh, dangerous," she stuttered, feeling a little foolish under their stares.
"Did it chase you all the way back to the house?" Her father couldn't quite keep the amusement from his voice.
"I thought it might've been a bear or something," she muttered, scowling. Gee, thanks for the concern, Dad. Nice to know you care.
"Don't think there are many bears around these parts. They'd be hibernating, anyway. It was probably just a deer," Marie said cheerfully. "Are you okay, honey? You look a little beat up."
Sarah smiled weakly. "I'm fine. Just a little scratched up. I'm kind of tired, though, so I think I'm gonna turn in early." She started for the stairs.
"What about supper?" Irene called after her. "It's beef stew. It'll be ready in a few minutes."
"No thanks! I'm not hungry," Sarah called back, and scrambled for her room before anyone could argue. She sighed with relief when she firmly closed the door behind her. The late sunlight flowed through the large window, tinting the carpet rose and gold, and she sank into the old chair and stared blankly out at the forest, almost imagining that she could see the glen from her position. A flash of movement caught her attention, and she glanced to her right, squinting against the sunset. There was a bird flying a distance away, its wing beats slow and graceful. It reminded her of the owl.
She scowled and savagely yanked the shade, blocking the sight. "Stupid owl shouldn't even be out of its nest yet," she muttered as she stripped her clothes and tossed them in a heap. She pulled a flannel nightgown over her head. The perfectionist in her cringed at the untidy display on the floor. The rest of her couldn't have cared less. Her stomach issued a long, low grumble of protest, which was also ignored as she climbed into the bed and pulled the covers over her head, trying to block the remaining light.
Why was she even trying, she thought grouchily. She was so keyed up, she probably wouldn't get any sleep, anyway. Maybe she should go down for supper, after all. At least then the hunger pangs wouldn't distract her. Sighing heavily, she closed her eyes and began to count sheep. It was a silly idea, and it probably wouldn't work anyway, but at least it kept her from thinking too much about … other things.
As she counted, she felt her thoughts growing hazier. The sheep cavorting over her imaginary fence began to morph, until they looked less like sheep and much more like sheepdogs. Merlin? she wondered sleepily. Or was that Ambrosius? Funny, she'd never noticed how much the two dogs actually resembled each other.
The next dog that leaped the fence had a small, furry rider on its back, which greatly resembled a fox dressed like a knight. The rider laughed heartily and brandished a familiar wand as it passed.
Hey! That's…!
Sarah watched with surprise as the pair landed on the other side of the fence. It had been a long time since she'd seen her small friend. "Sir Didymus!" she called, but the fox didn't turn around. Forgetting herself, she scrambled over the fence and took off after the trotting sheepdog. "Ambrosius! Sir Didymus! Wait up!"
They still didn't turn, didn't seem to realize she was following them. She stubbornly jogged after them, trying to catch up, but although Sir Didymus didn't appear to be in any great hurry, he still kept getting further and further away. She was starting to feel a bit like Alice chasing the White Rabbit.
When the knight and steed vanished into the forest that appeared out of nowhere, she didn't hesitate to plunge in after them. Of course, as soon as the trees had closed around her, she belatedly realized what had just happened and where she was. It seemed that she had fallen asleep, and something was now leading her dream-self a merry chase, right toward a place she knew she didn't want to go.
At least this time she knew she was dreaming, which meant she could make herself wake up again.
Well … that was the theory, anyway. But theories, it appeared, didn't always work the way one expected them to. No matter what she tried to make herself wake up, she remained stubbornly asleep. So she tried, at least, to make herself stop running. That had slightly better results, but she was still being drawn forward, quite against her will, toward a pale, silver light in the distance.
Oh, all right, fine. Be that way, she thought rebelliously, giving up. She let herself be pulled along until she reached the clearing in no time at all. This time, instead of stopping at the edge, she sped up and ran straight through to the other side, aiming for the stunted tree. The owl will be in the tree, she thought, right where I saw it today in the real forest. This time it isn't going to get away from me!
But the owl was not in the tree. The tree was quite empty. It looked rather forlorn and abandoned, standing all by its lonesome. She glanced around, half-expecting a white flash to go winging off into the moonlight. The clearing looked exceptionally empty, but she felt something there, watching her. And it was really starting to piss her off.
"Okay, I'm here!" she called, and a small part of her noted that her voice did not echo at all as it would have inside a real forest. It sounded more like she'd been trapped inside a box, where every sound was muffled and closed-off. The thought made her feel claustrophobic. "Where are you? I know you're there so you might as well give up! Why are you doing this? Why do I keep having this dream? I demand that you come out."
"So, still demanding things, are we? I shouldn't be surprised, I suppose."
Sarah whirled with a shriek of surprise, and wondered if it was at all possible to die of actual heart failure in a dream. There he came, a graceful, ghostly figure drifting regally through dappled patches of moonlight and shadow. His alluring, mismatched eyes met and held her own with an unnerving intensity that made her tremble. His thin, mocking smile faintly lifted sensual lips as wisps of silky hair brushed his perfect face. A long, pale cloak swirled about his tall frame in an unfelt breeze. He was the perfect figure of a man, almost too perfect to be real, beautiful and terrifying at once.
Sarah suddenly realized she was scared to death. "Jareth," she whispered as her face drained of color.
He cocked his head, stood very close, but he did not touch her, as if he sensed her fear. "Hullo, Sarah," he murmured. "It has been a long time. You're looking … well."
Sarah struggled to reply, to dredge up some shred of courage to chew him out the way she'd fully intended before actually seeing him again. She had forgotten how utterly devastating the Goblin King's presence was. His powerful aura reached out and wrapped her in a cocoon of magic and desire, and she found it exceedingly difficult to resist the sudden urge to lean forward and steal a kiss from his gorgeous mouth.
What would it be like to kiss such a man…?
She blinked at the dangerous direction her thoughts were suddenly taking, hastily lowered her eyes before Jareth could read them and figure out just what was on her mind. It was too late for that; his eyes seemed to be laughing at her as he swayed forward a little; a clear invitation.
She finally mustered the will to force her traitorous body to step away, reminding herself that this man was the enemy, damn it! "What do you want?" she demanded, wincing at the thin, breathy inflection that escaped, rather than the pissed-off tone she'd been aiming for. Fear was not something any sane person should be showing in front of a predator like Jareth.
She made herself take several more steps away, trying to put a safer amount of distance between them. He was dressed, she realized, in the same glittering, midnight-blue ensemble he'd worn after he'd abducted her into the crystal ball.
Wait. Hadn't he been wearing that wispy, feathered cloak-thing just a moment ago?
Her eyes widened, and she quickly dropped her gaze, not wholly surprised to find herself clothed in a familiar, exquisite creation of white tulle and satin.
She glanced at the Goblin King, who regarded her without expression. He seemed to be waiting for something. It almost seemed as though he wished for her to make the next move. She clenched her teeth stubbornly and refused to say or do anything. A smirk twitched at Jareth's mouth, and his eyes crinkled at the corners as he silently laughed at her obstinance. Then he extended a slender, black-gloved hand, and Sarah flinched back, half-expecting him to throw a snake at her as he'd done once before. But he only stood there with hand outstretched, still watching her in that unnerving manner.
Music abruptly swelled from the stillness surrounding them; a beautiful, haunting melody that she quickly recognized as the song he'd sung to her at the ball, and she gaped at him in astonishment. His intentions were suddenly very clear; he wished to dance with her, just as he had before.
Her brow furrowed as she hesitated. Truth be told, the crystal ball was one of the more favorable memories she held of her trip through the Labyrinth, despite the treacherous intent behind it. She'd felt like a real princess dancing with her prince. She still recalled the warmth in his eyes, the tender expression on his face as he'd gazed at her so lovingly. As though she was someone precious to him. His love song had touched her heart, and even though he had merely been trying to distract her from her mission, she couldn't help wondering sometimes if there might have been actual truth behind his words and gestures.
Jareth still waited, and she still gazed at his hand as though it would vanish if she took her eyes away for even a moment. Finally, she glanced up to regard him uncertainly, wondering what sort of trick he was trying to play on her now. His expression softened slightly. A look of gentle understanding passed through his eyes. "Touch your dreams," he whispered.
She blinked in surprise, but he said no more. Another moment's hesitation, a deeply-drawn breath, and she slowly extended her white-gloved hand, expecting to feel a strong grip closing about her fingers. What she felt was the disorienting sensation of suddenly being pulled backwards. Startled, she lunged forward, trying to grasp his hand, and instead grasped nothing but air. "J-Jareth?" she called, panicking as the pull on her spine grew stronger.
The Goblin King was fading before her very eyes, like a shadow before the rising sun. The sound of wing-beats filled the air.
"Jareth!"
Sarah lunged from her bed, panting harshly with the shock of suddenly being wide awake. The shade on the window had rolled up and was spinning chaotically, its plastic rod slapping against the glass with a noise like the wild flapping of wings. Bright, morning sunlight poured into the room and over the bed, illuminating the dust mites dancing in the air like sparkles of stardust. She stared at the dappled patterns it made on the quilt, luminous gold on shaded green, and tried to tell herself that the tears falling from her eyes were because of the brilliance of it.
It was difficult to go through the next two days without letting on that anything was wrong, but Sarah hadn't taken all those acting lessons for nothing. She laughed, she smiled, she played with Toby, and talked to her grandmother about school, the play her acting class was soon putting on, and what her plans were for the future. She had replied "acting" out of habit before remembering that she really wasn't sure what she wanted to do anymore. She recalled Kim's advice about coming up with another game plan if she didn't intend to pursue her first choice. But she didn't have a second choice just yet. She couldn't think of another single hobby that she was good at and enjoyed. Well, she thought, except for reading. She enjoyed reading, and she was awfully good at it. Maybe she could become a librarian.
Christmas Eve finally arrived, and the Williams family gathered around the tree after supper, eager to begin the traditional opening of the gifts. Even Sarah felt a little more into the holiday spirit when her grandfather, with a mysterious smile, handed her a large, heavy box wrapped in silver paper. "Merry Christmas," he told her as she eagerly tore it open. Inside, she found a beautiful figure of a dragon in full flight, finely sculpted and painted in silver and gold. A faceted gem was clutched in its gold-tipped claws, and the base was formed of leaded crystal, cut to look like the tips of jagged mountains. "Oh, it's beautiful," she breathed, carefully removing it from its Styrofoam cushioning.
Marie ruffled her hair fondly. "I thought you'd take a shine to it the moment I saw it."
"I'll treasure it," Sarah promised.
"Hopefully better than you treasured the owl my mother gave you," Irene murmured. Sarah flushed and pointedly ignored her stepmother in favor of helping Toby tear apart a brightly-wrapped package that was nearly as tall as him. It contained something a bit less fragile than a sculpture, but just as exciting. "Ooh! A caw!" Toby squealed, pointing to the picture of a Power Wheels jeep decorating the side of the box. "I got a caw!"
Robert shook his head. "Oh, fabulous. Thanks, Dad. Now I get to teach another one how to drive," he groaned, earning a laugh from everyone but Toby, who was too busy opening his "caw" and demanding to ride in it at once. It took some doing, but they managed to convince the little boy to wait at least until the sun came up before going outside.
Sarah watched with a contented smile, her hoard piled on her lap. All of the gifts had been passed out, and Toby took it upon himself to collect the paper and leftover ribbons and put them in a bag. He used the shopping bag that had carried their presents, but before he had gotten very far, he suddenly frowned and exclaimed in a very loud voice, "Oh no!"
"What's wrong?" Irene asked, alarmed.
Toby shook his head in a surprisingly adult gesture and planted a fist on his hips. "We fowgot a pwesent," he stated with obvious disapproval.
"We did?" Robert looked surprised. "I was sure we passed them all out."
Toby reached into the bag, and came up holding a small package. It was wrapped in white paper that shimmered like a pearl, tied with a wide, golden ribbon. Irene took it, frowning with confusion. "Where did this come from?" she wondered. "This isn't one of ours." She checked the silver tag dangling from the ribbon, then looked at Sarah in surprise. "It's for you."
Sarah was equally surprised as she accepted the box. She examined it curiously, seeking a name. "Are you sure neither of you got this for me and maybe just forgot?" Her parents shook their heads.
"Does it say who it's from?" Marie asked. Sarah shook her head. The tag had nothing but her name penned in beautiful, scrolling calligraphy. Weird. Nobody she knew wrote like that.
"What about Kimberly?" her father suggested.
Sarah thought it over. She'd exchanged presents with her friend during their last study session, but maybe Kim had managed to sneak an extra gift into the bag somehow. It didn't seem likely—This sort of surprise wasn't really Kim's style, and besides that, her handwriting was atrocious—but she couldn't think of any other explanation.
"Open it!" Toby demanded, bouncing impatiently. Sarah carefully opened the gift, trying not to tear the exquisite paper. Finally, she eased it off, and in her hands she held a box of smooth, white wood. It looked like a jewelry box, and as she turned it over to examine it, she heard something move inside. Curiously, she opened the lid and—
"Oh, Sarah, how lovely," she heard her grandmother say over her shoulder, but she didn't respond. She couldn't. She was frozen, all of the warmth draining from her body as she stared down at the perfect crystal formed of translucent gold, laying nestled in a bed of white velvet. It looked as delicate as a golden bubble, shining and glimmering in such a manner that it may have been crafted of … magic.
Sarah slammed the lid down, catching her thumb sharply. The resulting pain brought her back to her senses … somewhat. "Sarah!" Irene scolded. "Be more careful! You might break it!"
She doubted that. She had once seen a crystal much like this one bounce up and down several flights of stairs, ricochet off a few walls and ceilings in the process, and it had not received so much as a scratch. But she could hardly tell her stepmother that, now could she? "I … I don't feel very well," she stammered. "I think maybe I'd better go rest for awhile." She stood on trembling legs, still clutching the box.
"Are you all right?" Marie asked in concern. "You don't look so good."
She somehow managed a smile. "I-I'll be fine," she lied. "It was probably that second helping of spaghetti. Your spaghetti is so good I couldn't help myself. I'll take some stomach medicine and see if that helps."
"All right, dear. Just call if you need anything."
She nodded before turning to flee to her room. Her family probably thought she was losing her mind or something, and they had every right to. She wasn't too certain of her own sanity at the moment. How else could she explain what was happening to her? She sat down on the edge of the bed, box clutched firmly in hand. Fighting against common sense for a moment, she slowly opened the lid, hoping that what she'd found the first time was just a figment of her overtaxed imagination.
The crystal gleamed just as brightly in moonlight as it did in firelight, as though a piece of the sun had somehow been caged inside, and it occurred to her suddenly that this was unlike the Goblin King's normal crystals. If memory served, they had always been as clear as glass.
So maybe this wasn't from the Goblin King, after all? Maybe it was from a … a secret admirer or something? True, she'd never been what one might consider the secret-admiring type, but there was a first time for everything, right?
She glared down at the crystal, willing it to go away. Her eyes began to tear and burn from staring so hard, and as she blinked to clear them, a stray tear landed on the crystal, sliding smoothly over its flawless surface. Without thinking, she reached to wipe it off.
As soon as her fingers touched the glassy sphere, a flood of images filled her mind; memories of her journey into the Labyrinth, the faces of those she had met inside, of those whom she had called her friends. The image of glittering, mismatched eyes filled with sad longing caused unnamed feelings to rise as she recalled her first awe-filled meeting with the arrogant Goblin King, and her victorious, bittersweet confrontation in the end.
He had seemed so washed out, pale and bitter, and it had cut her heart like a knife to see him looking so … defeated. It didn't seem right, but she knew it had been the only way. Even so, it didn't make her feel any better about herself. It didn't erase the guilt she felt, knowing her selfish demands were what had brought this upon him. He knew it as well as she, but even so, there had been no hatred in his eyes when she'd chanted the final words of his defeat. Only a deep, lingering sadness for what might have been.
Sarah snatched her hand away from the crystal and slammed the lid on the box, hastily tossed it onto the other side of the bed. From somewhere inside, she felt a familiar whisper.
Touch your dreams…
She shook her head. She didn't want to touch anything. What she wanted was some actual peace. That wasn't so much to ask for, was it? Still, she suspected there was really only one way to go about getting it, and it wasn't likely to come to her without a little effort on her part.
Suddenly determined, she jumped to her feet and opened her door, peeking into the hall. Everything was dark. How long had she been sitting in there, anyway? It looked like everyone else had already gone to bed.
Well, good. It would make sneaking out of the house a whole lot easier.
She crept down the stairs, cringed at every little creak and groan that announced her passing, until she finally made it to the back door in the kitchen. She shrugged on her jacket, found a flashlight on top of the refrigerator, and quietly opened the door to step outside.
She didn't switch on the flashlight until she had reached the forest, and even then she waited until the trees had fully blocked her view of the house. She jogged along at a fast pace, trying to shake the eerie sense of deja vu. This seemed entirely too familiar; she felt as if she was reliving her dream.
There was the clearing, just ahead of her. Switching off the light, she cautiously made her way toward it. She stumbled a little over hidden tree roots and stray rocks, bit back growls and curses, and generally made enough racket to wake every living creature within a ten mile radius. With a sigh, she gave up trying to sneak in and simply concentrated on getting there without breaking anything vital. No need to make an embarrassing entrance, after all.
Her heart pounded, and she couldn't decide whether it was from excitement or fear. She decided that she didn't care, just so long as she finally got a genuine conclusion to her dream. Taking a deep breath, she stepped into the clearing and looked around cautiously. She didn't know what she expected to see. The owl, perhaps? Or maybe Jareth himself would be there, waiting for her arrival.
What she actually found … was nothing.
There was no Goblin King waiting for her. The white owl was absent, as well. The only creature there was a startled deer, its back burnished with silver moonlight. It regarded her as though resenting her intrusion on its privacy, before bounding away into the forest with a flash of white tail.
She couldn't quite shake off an overwhelming sense of disappointment.
"Uh… hello?" she called tentatively, and this time, her voice echoed clearly as it had not in the dream, startling a few roosting birds from their nests. They burst from the foliage with an explosion of feathers and angry squawks, and managed to scare Sarah half to death. She glared after them as they winged away before turning her attention back to what was really important; namely, how much of a fool she was.
"I am such an idiot," she grumbled. It took considerable willpower to resist the urge to throw herself on the ground and give in to a righteous tantrum, complete with screaming, beating fists, and kicking feet. Of course he wasn't there! He had probably never been there, and even if he was, why had she ever let herself believe that he was anything other than an arrogant, stuck-up, child-snatching trickster? She clenched her teeth so hard that her jaw ached, as the ground in front of her began to waver and blur.
She indignantly swiped at her eyes. There was no way she would give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry. He had more than enough to laugh about as it was. What right did the jerk have to come back into her life after she had gone to all that trouble to kick him out of it? Didn't he understand the meaning of "get lost"?
"I hope you're happy, Jareth!" she shouted, startling awake several more birds and a pair of squirrels, who chattered at her angrily from their branches. "Congratulations! You've succeeded in driving me crazy, if that was your goal! Go ahead and yuk it up! I'm finished. Do you understand? No more games! Just go away and leave me alone!" With those words, Sarah turned on her heel to stalk haughtily away.
She had not taken more than two steps, however, when a soft, richly accented voice murmured in her ear, "I have never attempted to drive you anywhere, dearest Sarah, and I am certainly not laughing."