Ok everyone. I'm down on my knees and begging for you forgiveness. Summer holidays, suspicious parents, what can I say. But that is no excuse. I'm really really really really sorry! This chapter was really hard to write and I would love it if you reviewed. Again i will emphasise that this is not the last chapter.
Please read and review.
I love you all.
And I'm sooooooooooooo sorry for the delay.
FY.A xxx
They were crawling into his mouth and nose. He could feel their legs as they scuttled in his throat. And Jareth was gagging and gasping for breath as he wrestled with the chain round Phoenix wrists that kept them fastened to the floor. But his strength was sapping. He could no longer see, black spots filling his vision as he finally wrenched the chain from the rusting bolts that held it to the floor. He thrust Phoenix upwards, towards the light and air, away from the waves of spiders.
"Run," he tried to croak but as he opened his mouth more spiders leapt into his throat, their mental attack seizing on his ability to banish them from his body. Blindly, he staggered to his feet and raised a hand, blue flames hitting the opposite wall, fizzing and dying. Jareth's hand reached for his medallion, fingers wrapping round the warm metal as he sought for the Labyrinth with his mind. The spiders lunged once more, feeding off the telepathic frequency, growing in size and strength.
Jareth fell to his knees. And did the last thing he could think of.
Sarah was running through the castle when it struck her. She was sweating and her mind felt weak. She was having trouble thinking. And this meant that she was now stuck in Jareth's optical illusion, running upstairs and downstairs, lungs burning with the effort. She paused, forcing herself to take a deep breath, although it felt like she was breathing through a pillow, and blinked her eyes. She felt odd, detached and flattened her hand over her chest, feeling her heartbeat jump in a rhythm more akin to fear than exertion. She fought the black spots away from her vision and decided on a new route, setting off and stumbling up the steps in front of her. She fell to her knees, pulling herself towards the doors that she could now see.
But suddenly she couldn't breathe at all. Her mouth was open, gasping but no air could reach her burning lungs. It felt like there was a ball of something lodged in her throat so she could not draw breath. She started to cough and carried on dragging herself blindly forward, something repeating in her head that she must get outside, that it was of paramount importance.
The great double doors to the main steps of the castle swung open and Sarah dragged herself forward, head down as she gritted her teeth in an effort to stay conscious. A figure stepped into the open doorway, staring down at Sarah as she pulled her way laboriously towards the steps. And then it was too much for her as the black took hold of her completely, and Sarah passed out from lack of oxygen.
Phoenix turned in the doorway of the room, looking behind her for her father only to realise that he was not following. Her mind felt fuzzy, as though her brain was trying to talk to her body underwater. None of it really made sense. She ached all over, but the gnawing pain, up inside her where the effigy of Raemon had had his fingers was the worst. It felt like bruising, and it hurt when she walked. And she could feel the trickle of blood that had escaped her running down her leg. Her stomach was heavy with the quantities of blood she had swallowed and as the illusion had broken, the semen in her mouth and throat had also turned to spiders and she could feel them, scuttling inside her and making her wretch. She wondered briefly if she was going to die. But then her father had fallen to his knees, his fire fizzing against the opposite wall and as she watched in horror, he pitched forward into the sea of spiders as they began to swarm over his body. And all at once, she realised it didn't matter if she died right now.
Phoenix ran to her father, ignoring the place by the opposite wall in which a tiny spark of blue flame had taken hold, and was even now licking at the wooden frame of the mirror. Phoenix pushed her fingers into Jareth's mouth and scooped out a handful of spiders, only for more to swarm in in their place. Phoenix tried again but the same thing happened. She wrapped her arms round Jareth's chest and tried to pull him clear, but he was too heavy. And now her own breath was starting to fail as the room filled with magical smoke that bit at her eyes and throat, starting her coughing. She wrapped her arms back round her father, laying her head against his strong, still chest. And she waited for a miracle.
Nathaniel was holding tight on to Rath's hand, walking carefully through the field of graves, head held high. Rath was capering round him, chattering about how they had never seen a graveyard before, and wasn't it cool that you got a whole hill to yourself. Nathaniel was steering them gently towards a bigger mound in the centre of the grave meadow, hoping that at least from here they might be able to get a rough idea where in the Labyrinth they were. The smooth grassy hillock was surrounded by scars in the earth, great patches where the grass would not grow and as they approached, Nathaniel tightened his hand on Rath's.
"Rath," he whispered, "Rath don't touch the bare patches."
Rath nodded his head and pulled his hand from Nathaniel's scampering up the slope to stand on the summit, wind whipping through his black hair so that the blond streak looked like a bolt of lightning.
"Hey Nath," he called down to his brother, "come look at this, it's a clock. Right on top up here. And...eww...I think that's blood."
Rath wrinkled up his nose but leant closer. Nathaniel meanwhile was skirting the base of the mound, looking for the doorway. And when he found it he read the inscription, wondering at the ornate carving. Reverently, he drew his sword and stabbed it downward into the ground. He stepped in front of it to kneel between it and the sealed doorway in an ancient fae tribute of allegiance. Rising to his feet once more he pressed his fingers to the crack in the seal and was astonished to feel a warm draught, like the ghost of breath, whispering from within the tomb.
He turned and reached for his sword, but another hand lay across the hilt. A hand worn and wrinkled with age such as Nathaniel had never seen in his life before. Slowly, he drew his eyes upwards. From the man's other hand hung a watch on a chain, swinging backwards and forwards in a steady pendulum motion and Nathaniel felt his eyes start to blur as he watched the perpetual motion. Backwards, forwards, backwards, forwards. Tick, tock, tick, tock. Nathaniel's eyelids flickered and the hand that he had reached out for his sword dropped back to his side. The watch slowly revolved on its chain as it swung backwards and forwards.
And suddenly Nathaniel was awake again. The clock face was weird. Wrong. How could he not have noticed before? At the top, where XIII should have been was XII, and directly opposite was VI, with the other numbers spaced out between them. It was unnatural, this man was taking away an hour from every day. He looked up into the man's eyes fearfully.
Time smiled lazily, though it did not reach his eyes and for a moment Nathaniel saw something else reflected there that scared him more than his own father's blatant fury and cruelty – emptiness. But then it was gone and Nathaniel shook his head wondering if he had imagined it. His wonderings were cut short, however, as Time began to speak and his voice was the sound of dead leaves in the breeze.
"Nathaniel," he said, and the boy stared up into his great, pool eyes. "Nathaniel, do not be afraid. Come and join us."
A figure of a boy about Nathaniel's age rose from the dust at Time's feet. He smiled in a cruel way and reached out his hand, brushing Nathaniel's arm. "Yes," he echoed, "come and play with me."
The boy's hand felt like ice, seeping into his veins and gripping his heart. He tried to pull his arm away but found instead his attention fixed on the boy's lips, where his teeth could be seen to glint. Something black shifted in his mouth, tiny legs scuttling and Nathaniel leant closer, the boy's fetid breath on his face. Time pulled Nathaniel's sword from the ground between them and turned it, offering the hilt back towards Nathaniel.
"Come and join the army of Time Nathaniel. And you will live forever."
Nathaniel felt his hand, as though of its own accord, stretch out, his fingers wrapping themselves round the hilt. Time's smile widened.
"Nath, you are you talking...NATH, NO!"
As Rath appeared at the crest of the mound Nathaniel's head snapped round and suddenly he was free of the spell.
"NO!" he yelled and grabbed for his sword as Time snatched it beyond his reach. Time looked down mockingly at the small boy.
"Do not fight me, little boy," he warned and his voice held nothing but menace as he took a step forward, advancing towards Nathaniel.
Nathaniel raised his hand, sending a wave of power to create a shield before him, scrambling backwards up the hill towards his brother. Time paused and then stepped forward once more, the air rippling around him as he dissolved Nathaniel's shield. Nathaniel stumbled back and tripped, falling heavily onto his back, feet scrabbling desperately at the smooth grass. Time advanced another step, smiling as he extended a hand, as though to help Nathaniel to his feet. The small boy shied away, Time's fingers within millimetres of his face.
"NO!"
And Rath was running down towards his brother. He knocked Time's hand out of the way, stepping between the old man and his twin.
"If you want him, you have to get past me first." Rath's voice was steady and strong. He glared up through his mass of dark fringe, blue eyes burning into Time's. Time stared back at him for a full minute, the watch swinging gently in his out stretched hand. His lips parted.
And then, slowly, dryly, Time began to laugh.
With his laugh came the wind, swirling into the meadow and whipping the dust up into the air, solidifying it. Out of the wind stepped Time's army of the dead. Slowly, they began to advance once more, circling the mound on which Nathaniel and Rath were. Time reached out his hand again.
"I SAID NO!" Rath cried again and raised his hand as though in self defence. As he did so, flames burst from the grass in the meadow and the dad army began, with one voice, to scream. Time's hand stopped in mid-air as though encountering a solid wall. His eyes met Rath's in shock. Then he smiled again.
"So the weakling has some power after all," he murmured. He extended a hand, running it along the obstruction.
Rath turned to Nathaniel and grabbed his hand, hauling him to his feet. His eyes were bright with excitement. "Nath, come on. Up the hill. Now. Before he breaks the wall. Nath did you see? I did proper magic."
Nathaniel nodded his head, smiling briefly, but his expression soon turned to worry. "Rath, we have to fight. If the take this tomb then they take the Underground. I saw whose it was. Rath, this is Pan's tomb."
Behind them was a noise like shattering glass as Time smote his watch against Rath's invisible barrier.
"Run!" shouted Nathaniel and grabbed his brother's hand again, pulling him up the sloped edge of the tomb. The screaming in the air was deafening as Time's army burned in the magical flames and Rath twisted as he ran, flicking his fingers in their direction so that the separate fires grew and joined. Soon the whole mound was surrounded by a ring of flame.
And then suddenly, out of the fire came an arrow, fired straight and true, its tip glowing in the heat. Nathaniel just saw it in time, raising his hand so that the second before it hit him it became a useless scrap of silk. He caught the material in the hand not clutching Rath's and knotted it into a shape, breathing lightly over it as it came to life. The falcon spiralled into the air, shrieking before plunging down towards the Time, deadly talons outstretched. He turned and continued running, so that he did not see the bird pull out of the dive, or settle gently on Time's shoulder.
Panting, the brothers reached the top of the mound. The heat was burning their faces, sweat streaking the soot that was gathering on their skin. As one, they turned on the spot looking for a weakness in the wall of flaming army which was still inexorably moving forwards.
"On three," Nathaniel called as they turned back to back on top of Pan's tomb. "One, two, three!"
Both boys raised their hands, sending waves of energy towards the oncoming forces. Those on Nathaniel's side fell back slightly, while those on Rath's stumbled a little, before raising their heads and pushing on. And then again came a hail of arrows, their iron tips gleaming in the light of the flames. Rath raised his hands upwards and suddenly the twins were being showered by a hail of rose petals.
"Look Nath," shouted Rath gleefully, "look! I'm doing it! I can do magic."
More arrows flew and as Nathaniel brought his other hand up to support the strength of his shield Rath laughed out loud, capering away from Nathaniel as a second wave of deep red petals fell onto the tomb. He turned, his face split into a wide grin.
"See Nath?" he laughed. "I can't wait to tell Daddy! It's like coming alive all over again."
The smile froze on his lips. His head snapped back and he stumbled. He tried to pull himself upright and staggered another few steps.
"Nath," he gasped, "the world is so bright."
"What?" called Nathaniel.
Rath didn't answer. He sank to his knees, smiling.
"Look Nath," he whispered. "Look at the world. Isn't it wonderful."
Nathaniel spun round, knowing something was wrong. Rath was kneeling on the clock face set in the centre of the tomb. He was smiling, his eyes wide and bright and full of love. Nathaniel's world turned into slow motion as he watched his brother reach behind him and pull Time's own sword from between his shoulder blades. Nathaniel didn't notice the army surge forward as his hand dropped to his side. Didn't notice Time's cruel smile as he appeared over the edge of the mound. He didn't see the dark blood that stained his hands as he wrapped his arms round his brother. Neither did he see the deep cracks that appeared in the glass clock face beneath them.
Through the roaring in his ears he heard Rath laughing, "Hey look Nath, the stars have come out in the daytime."
And then the glass broke and they were falling, the glass sealing itself once more above their heads.
Someone was kissing her. She could feel a mouth covering hers and for a moment she wondered who it was. Not Jareth. The lips where rounder and fuller. And then whoever it was exhaled heavily into her mouth and she realised that they were also holding her nose. She struggled to sit up, to get away and the person let her go. She rolled over, nausea overtaking her. She threw up onto the smooth stone of the castle steps.
"Yuck," said a man's voice. "Looks like I stopped just in time. Wouldn't have wanted that in my mouth."
Sarah lay on her face and wrinkled her nose. The accent was a deep and careful American, not like the clipped British she had grown so used to. She rolled over, wiping her mouth and looked up at the man who had just given her mouth to mouth.
He was young she thought as his face swam in and out of focus. Late teens or early twenties with the sort of dirty blond hair that would have been near white in childhood.
"Sarah right?" he asked.
She nodded her head. His eyes were bright blue and large with long fair eyelashes.
"I thought so, but I wasn't sure. Haven't seen you since I was five you see, except photos. You haven't changed much."
Sarah nodded her head again, trying to peice together a sentence in her mind.
"It's this place," she managed finally. "Time doesn't work the same."
"Since you mention this place...Jareth's doss-pad isn't it? Thought I recognised his voice when called me. Not the sort you could easily forget, even from a baby. He said there was some sort of emergency, and then I find myself here. Just looking around, wondering what to do next when you crawl out the castle and stop breathing. So come on sis, what's going on?" Toby's eyes gazed keenly into hers. "What's the matter?" he cried, as Sarah leapt to her feet, her hand against her mouth.
"Jareth, Phoenix, the twins!" she yelled. "They need help!"
Toby held up his hands and backed away.
"Okay," he said. "Slow down. Phoenix and the twins?"
"My children!" Sarah snapped.
"Childr...okay." Toby wiped his hand over his forehead so that his close cropped hair stood on end. "You have children. Yes. Children." He shook his head then looked back at Sarah. "So where are they?"
"I DON'T KNOW!" Sarah yelled.
Phoenix lay with her head resting on Jareth's chest, her arms tight round as silent tears leaked from her eyes. She could feel the throbbing pain between her legs and the scuttling feet that were steadily swarming up her body. She closed her eyes as the thick smoke bit the back of her throat and she hugged her father tighter, his nearness comforting her as she prayed for strength in her last few moments. Her head was spinning and she felt sick and dizzy. The floor seemed to be tipping and Jareth's chest rising.
And suddenly Jareth twisted in her arms, coughing and retching so that a ball of spiders was expelled from between his lips. For a moment he leant on his hands panting before looking wildly around for his daughter. His hand closed on her upper arm, fingers gripping so tight that Phoenix knew they would leave bruises. His other hand closed on his medallion and through the smoke Phoenix could see him as he raised it to his face, pressing it tight against his cheek so that the black blood began to run down his neck. His eyes met hers and a brief spark of understanding passed between them. Phoenix raised her hand and pressed her finger against the point of the medallion, gasping as it broke the skin. She wrapped her arms tight round her father's chest and held on for dear life. Jareth gritted his teeth against the pain in his head and the complete exertion he was about to force on his body, the utter abuse of his magic. He shut his eyes tight.
Just before the flames took hold entirely, Jareth and Phoenix vanished from the room.
Toby had backed away. "Look. I didn't ask to come here. I'm only trying to help."
Sarah shook her head in frustration, trying desperately to think where Jareth might be. She closed her eyes and tried to reach him with her mind. Silence.
"I DON'T KNOW," she yelled again. And then more quietly, "I don't know."
She realised she was shaking, tears running down her face at the hopelessness of the situation. There was no Elixsyure to come to her aid this time.
She felt Toby's arms wrap round her and she dug her fingers into the fabric of his Che Guevara teeshirt. She pressed her face into the hollow of his shoulder so that the fabric became wet with tears. Toby stroked her hair awkwardly. Behind them there was a crack like a whip.
Sarah tore herself away from Toby and looked toward the noise before sprinting towards the pair that had now appeared at the foot of the castle steps.
Jareth was bent over figure of Phoenix, who was lying exposed on the rough stone of the castle road. What remained of gown was ripped and lay open at the front so that her young body was on full display. Blood was dripping from between her lips as Jareth heaved her into his arms and rose unsteadily to his feet. As Sarah reached them, Toby was staring horror struck from the top of the steps.
"Jareth!" Sarah cried and her lips met his for the briefest of seconds. "Phoenix?" she asked as her hands tugged at her daughters gown, trying to hide her from the view of the world. "Jareth...is she alright? What happened?"
Jareth's eyes met Toby's and he inclined his head. Toby nodded back. He knew this was Jareth's admission of gratitude. But Jareth's eyes were back on Phoenix.
"She is fine. Well, not fine. But she'll live. Unconscious after a rather unorthodox dematerialisation. Keep her warm and quiet until I get back. Don't let the boys see her like this."
Sarah looked up at him wildly. "The boys? But they were with you."
Jareth shook his head, a panicked look filling his eyes. "I left them here with you. I told Nathaniel to make sure you were safe."
Tears were flowing freely down Sarah's face again as she shook her head. "They followed you. Jareth...where are they?"
Jareth drew in his breath sharply at her words. "I must go," he said quickly. "Don't wash her until I return, I will need to mend the damage. Tobias?"
Toby hurried down the steps and took Phoenix' limp form from Jareth's arms. Despite no longer holding the weight of his daughter Jareth felt heavy and tired.
"Bring my boys back to me," Sarah whispered before turning and hurrying into the castle after Toby and Phoenix. Jareth nodded grimly to himself before gritting his teeth once more and turning on the spot. A grey white owl soared into the air, looking down at the Underground, and searching for who knew what.
The darkness was absolute. Nathaniel's eyes could not pick out a single feature of the chamber in which they now found themselves. The silence pressed on his eardrums. Not even the sound of Time's hordes could penetrate the thick layers of stone and turf. He was lying on his back on a stone floor, his arms still tight round Rath, whose body lay diagonally over his chest. He could feel the dampness of Rath's blood as it soaked through his tunic.
Rath's voice sounded thin in the oppressive atmosphere of the tomb.
"Nath? It's very dark."
Nathaniel wriggled one arm free and, concentrating hard, drew a ball of light from the air. He raised it to his lips and blew gently so that it floated up to the stone ceiling. Along one side the tomb ran a ledge, and beside it stood a box, its stone lid askew. A draft seemed to emanate from within its depths. Along the side of the ledge letters were carved in a writing Nathaniel couldn't understand and on the ledge lay a long still form.
Nathaniel shuddered and looked away. He felt Rath's hand shift, rising up to grip his tightly.
"Nath?"
"Yes?"
"Nath it's very cold."
Nathaniel shifted his body from beneath Rath's so that he lay alongside his brother. He wrapped his arms round him and snuggled closer, giving Rath his warmth.
"Better?"
Rath nodded his head. They lay silent for a time, Nathaniel listening closely to Rath's shallow breathing. Then Rath shifted again.
"He's smiling Nath."
"Who?"
"Pan."
Nathaniel lifted himself up to look at the figure stretched out on the ledge.
"No, not there Nath, there." Rath raised a hand slightly and indicated the stone ceiling above them. Nathaniel wrapped his arms back round his brother and held him closer.
"Your light's fading Nath. I don't want to be in the dark." Nathaniel looked up at the globe of light where it burned just as brightly as it had before. Rath murmured, "But it's alright. Because he's still smiling. And...and because you're here."
Nathaniel raised himself up on his elbow and looked down at his brother. Rath's face was pale and the skin round his lips was turning grey. His bright eyes were staring up at the ceiling and his breath was coming in feverish rushes. Nathaniel blinked his eyes rapidly.
"Rath?"
"Mmhhmm?"
"Remember when we were young, and Father would sing to us. If we had a nightmare or something, or just if we needed a hug?"
"Mmhhmm. I liked that."
Nathaniel took a steadying breath so that his voice wouldn't shake. He licked his dry lips. Softly he began to sing.
Brother, you and I,
Brother, you and I,
Rath was still staring up into the stone work and Nathaniel broke off.
"Sing with me Rath. Look into my eyes and sing with me."
We'll sing our lullaby
Rath joined in, murmuring the words rather than singing. His eyes slightly vacant as he looked into those of his brother.
Hush, my dear,
Sing sweet and low;
Baby now to rest will go;
Hush thee, hush thee,
Singing soft and low;
Hush thee, hush, thee,
Singing soft and low.
Nathaniel paused at the end of the verse, trying in vain to blink back the tears as Rath's eyes drifted back to the ceiling. A tear dripped onto Rath's cheek and he said without moving his eyes,
"Don't cry Nath, it's alright."
Nathaniel shook his head and began the second verse, Rath now barely whispering with him.
Brother, you and I,
Brother, you and I,
We'll sing our lullaby.
Tired blue eyes
Will gently close;
Sleepy now the baby grows;
"Sleepy," murmured Rath as his eyes once more found Nathaniel's. "Very sleepy."
Nathaniel was no longer trying to control the tears that fell freely down his cheeks. He lifted a hand and smoothed Rath's black hair from his forehead, just as he had seen his father do when Rath had nightmare.
Hush thee, hush thee,
Rath's eyes where growing vacant and a small smile played round his lips.
Sleep in sweet repose;
Hush thee, hush thee,
Nathaniel lifted a hand and gently closed Rath's glazing eyes. He wrapped his arms round Rath's chest and buried his face into the fabric of his brother's tunic. Fabric that smelled of Rath and carried his warmth. His body shook and his voice broke as he gasped against his brother's still chest.
Sleep in sweet repose.