The plot thickens...please keep reading and reviewing. xxx

There was a rending sound behind her and Sarah spun round, a scream caught in her throat. From nowhere, from the sky except that they were inside, Jareth was falling, tearing through the canopy of curtain that covered the bed, falling in a whirlwind of feathers and tangled limbs. He hit the soft mattress and lay still, legs crumpled beneath his body, head rocked back and mouth open. One arm was bent awkwardly beneath his back the other flung out at his side. From his chest protrude the shaft of a yew arrow, tailed with the black feathers of a raven.

The scream that had caught in Sarah's throat released and she ran to him, sinking to her knees at the side of the bed and flinging her arms round him. She called his name, looking up to his face, tears streaming down her cheeks. A pulse flickered in his exposed neck and she let out a wail of joy. He was still alive. She moved up, intending to get a look at his face, but as she did so something else arrested her attention. From this angle she could see that the arrow head was not buried in his chest, as she had first thought, but instead was penetrating deep into the muscle of his upper right arm. She allowed herself half a sigh of relief. It had missed his heart. A rich, purple black stain was spreading quickly across the white of his shirt, soaking into the bed covers as Sarah's anxious fingers tried to staunch the flow of blood. With hands stained the colour of brambles Sarah was whimpering at her own uselessness, the blood flowing faster with every passing minute. Suddenly Jareth's whole body convulsed wildly and his eyes flew open. His mouth gaped, moving in a semblance of speech though no sound emerged. His flickered shut again, although the grimace on his face as he gritted his teeth against the pain told Sarah he was still conscious. Another wave of pain seemed to hit him for his body convulsed again and he pulled himself up, gripping the front of Sarah's gown with both hands and staring straight into her eyes.

"Sarah," his voice hissed through his gritted teeth. "Get it out Sarah. It's iron tipped."

A further wave of pain crumpled him back to the bed as he seemed to collapse into unconsciousness once more. Sarah clutched her arms round him, sobbing uncontrollably.

"Jareth," she cried, "Jareth wake up. Iron's poisonous for you isn't it? Jareth what do I do?"

Sarah cupped her hands round his pallid cheeks. There was no colour in his face and his lips were turning a sickly grey. His breath was rattling in uneven gasps through his slightly parted lips and beneath his lids she could see his eyes were flickering back and forth through the fever and pain.

Sarah drew a deep steadying breath, trying to become practical. She kissed him once one the lips. "It's going to be alright," she told him.

He did not respond.

Though she hated to leave him, Sarah rose and crossed to the door of the room, sticking her head out and shouting for help. Glancing round the room she could see nothing that would serve as a bandage, so she ran back to the bed and pulled a pillow out of its case, ripping the silk into a few short strips. She prayed it would be enough. Jareth's voice summoned her back to his side. He was conscious again, but his eyes were wide, pupils dilated. She could see the mists of pain swirling in them. He reached out for her with his left arm, the arm without the arrow. She felt his fingers thread through hers, twisted and clearly broken in several places. His arm too looked odd and misshapen and she remembered the unnatural way it had laid beneath him after he fell.

"Sarah," he whispered, each word shuddering from his lips as he fought for enough breath to continue. "Do it now, quickly. Then summon the guard. Tell them they are back. The spiders are back. And Sarah?" His voice grew quieter with the effort of speaking, "Tell them they have a leader...it's not just the spiders." He collapsed back on the bed, lifted his chin and gritted his teeth. His whole body tensed against the pain that was to come. "Do it now," he ordered.

Sarah kissed his greying lips before reaching over him and tearing the sleeve of his shirt away from his arm. The arrow had gone deep. She lifted his arm, trying to ignore his growl of pain.

"You'll pay for this later," he groaned.

"You bet I will." Sarah smiled reassuringly.

Lowering her head she looked at the underside of his arm. The tip of the arrow head could just be seen, poking out through his torn skin. Thick purplish black blood was leaking from the edges of the wound although the tightness with which the arrow head was wedged seemed to be stopping most the bleeding. It must be lying against the bone, Sarah realised. It had just missed shattering his arm altogether. And if it had been half a foot to the left...Sarah shut her mind to that thought.

"I can feel the iron burn," Jareth moaned. He bit his lip as Sarah touched the arrow tip that protruded from the underside of his arm. Blood leaked from between his teeth as he directed the pain into his lower lip. "How does it look?" he asked.

"Umm...fine. Not too bad at all." Jareth turned his head towards her and read the lie in her eyes. He nodded his head.

"Do it now," he said.

Sarah kissed him on the mouth again.

She took hold of the arrow shaft.

She pulled.

Jareth screamed, his body writhing up off the bed. And then he fell still. Sarah pulled the arrow free of his arm. Blood ran freely from the gaping wound, staining Jareth's shirt even more. Sarah glanced at his face. Cold sweat dappled his forehead and his breathing was quick and shallow. She was glad he was unconscious for she knew what she had to do next would be excruciating. Gingerly, she reached her fingers into the open wound, searching for any splinters or shards of iron that might be left in the hole. If the iron was poisonous, it was important to make sure none was left. Withdrawing her fingers she grabbed a strip of pillow case and wrapped it tightly round the wound. The blood soaked through immediately. It was such a deep cut, it should have stitches. There would be muscle damage. She tied a second strip over the first, then a third and a fourth. Still she could not staunch the bleeding. Panicking, Sarah ran to the bedroom door, only to collide with a mumbling goblin.

"Get help. Now!" she yelled at it.

It looked up at her with sullen eyes.

"Why shoulds I get help for you?" it grumbled. "You're not mys master. You're only his..."

The goblin froze in horror as it caught sight of Jareth.

"I'll get the healer," it said and sprinted off down the corridor.

Sarah returned to Jareth and smoothed his sweat damp hair away from his forehead. She kissed him gently and his eyes flickered open. He smiled.

"My angel," he whispered.

Sarah leant down to kiss him again. Just at that moment the door flew open and the goblin burst into the room flowed by an elderly dwarf who was wheezing and clutching a stitch in his side. He marched officiously over to where Jareth lay and elbowed Sarah out the way.

"Now my King, what have we here?" he aged healer asked, prodding at the blood soaked bandaging.

Jareth moaned and Sarah felt his broken fingers again reach into her hand. As the surgeon stripped back the bandaging, Jareth shook his head from side to side. The pain was excruciating. He crunched Sarah's fingers in his, aware that his hand and arm were broken. One ankle throbbed dully, but none of that was anything compared to the fire lancing through his right arm.

"Iron wounding hmm. It's all out?" The surgeon fixed Sarah with an intent stare. She nodded.

The dwarf opened the large medicine bag that he had carried and reached inside. Jareth gripped Sarah's hand harder and pulled her down so that his faint voice whispered in her ear.

"Sarah. Go now. And summon the guard."

She looked down at him. She did not want to leave him like this. She never wanted to leave his side. What if something happened and she wasn't there? He saw the doubt in her eyes and understood her hesitation.

"Remember what I told you," he whispered. "It's only forever. I'm not going anywhere." His eyes dated to where the healer was preparing his equipment. "Go now," he said with more force.

Sarah looked down at him once more and with a tremendous effort he raised himself slightly off the bed and pressed his lips to hers, opening his mouth and running his tongue against hers. He flopped back to the bed and released her hand, shutting his eyes tight. Sarah turned and left the room. She was half way down the corridor when she heard Jareth's scream of pain. She started to run.

The tears fell blindly from her eyes and she couldn't stop her feet. Her heart wanted to return, to be with Jareth, but she could not stop her frantic dash away from his suffering. She couldn't turn back. When her steps slowed she raised her head, blinking hard. She realised she was in the throne room, though how she had got through Jareth's hall of optical illusion she did not know. Drawing herself up and wiping her eyes she strode forward to deliver Jareth's message to the goblins.

Jareth was glad he had sent Sarah away, though he missed her terribly. He wanted to hold her hand, bury his face in her chest and have her take away his pain. But this was messy and painful, and he had not been able to bear the look of horror on her face. So he had sent her to deliver his message. He writhed on the bed, blood flowing from his lower lip as he bit down and broken finger joints grinding as he clenched his fists. The liquid the surgeon was using to cleanse the iron poisoning was excruciating and Jareth reached for the blackness again, allowing it to take away the hurt and allow him some peace.

The throne room was now empty. The goblins had leapt to action at the mention of the spiders, although Sarah was still not sure what these creatures might be. She figured they could not be the same as aboveground spiders; there was nothing to fear from most of them. She turned, intending to return to Jareth's chamber and help in the mending of his wounds. As she passed into the corridor that would lead her from the throne room however, she felt herself seized by the upper arm and pulled into a dark recess that usually housed a gilt statue. Strong arms held her tight and her vision began to blur as an image of herself in the throes of orgasm swam before her eyes. Hot lips pressed briefly against hers as she struggled to escape. A cold voice spoke chillingly in her ear.

"So here she is. Jareth's bride. The Coming Champion. And it was so easy."

Sarah raised her eyes and stared straight back into the icy blue stare of Raemon.