It had been a normal Thursday night, except that her father had been home. Apparently one of his clients had cancelled the dinner meeting.
Sarah hadn't seen the sarcastic look that Karen shot him at that statement, but she had heard the desert-dry tone of voice when she had commented about him forgetting what her cooking tasted like.
Toby, like any other kids when the adults are fighting, was well aware of the tension, and so loudly asked Sarah to come with him to the lounge-room at the back of the house and tell him a story.
Sarah had been more than happy to oblige him, and had even allowed Toby to push her chair into the lounge-room whilst the parental figures fought in the kitchen. Normally she never let anyone push her chair, determined to hold onto at least some form of dignified mobility within her control. The other options were crawling on the floor or an odd bum-wriggle that Sarah had been told by the physio had been originally perfected by a kid who had had multiple broken limbs. Since she then had to worry about a whole new set of unseen obstacles at this level, such as chair legs and end-tables, she avoided this when she could.
Toby had begged for his favourite story, and so Sarah had begun to tell him, about the Goblin King and the selfish girl who had carelessly wished away her baby brother, and who had then had to defeat the Goblin King's Labyrinth to get him back. These days she told it from the perspective of the Goblin King, because she had decided, (and Toby had gleefully confirmed) that the story was much more entertaining with the sarcastic running commentary of the Goblin King, who disbelieved that this upstart chit was making such progress against his labyrinth.
Also, Sarah had to admit, it was less painful this way. This way she could use her adult perspective to make fun of the spoilt brat she had been without having to remember what it had felt like. There had been a while in which she would regularly talk through the mirror, to her friends in the Labyrinth, but eventually, she had had to move away for college. She had still visited them when she'd come home for holidays, but then there had been the accident, and the long months in hospital. When she'd come home, she'd learnt that her room had been moved downstairs, to make it easier with the wheelchair. The only thing to have not survived the move had been her mirror- her father had not realised how heavy the frame really was, and so had dropped it.
Apparently it had shattered into a million tiny pieces.
Sarah had cried when she heard, but no one had understood why. Still, she supposed it might be for the best. She wasn't sure she wanted her old friends seeing her like this. Especially if it might get back to Jareth. If he laughed, to see his old foe brought to such a condition... Or worse, if he pitied her. Neither reaction was one she wanted to learn of, and so she was almost grateful that that mode of communication had been closed to her.
She had got far into the tale for the night, nearly at the end, where she told the part where the King watched in disgust as Hoggle and Sir Didymus told the girl, "If you need us..." when there was a resounding crash from the front door.
"Toby, what's happening?" she demanded quietly.
She heard soft footsteps, and assumed that Toby was poking his head around the corner of the door.
Toby clutched his big sister's arm, and whispered in her ear about the scary men in the black ski-masks who had just crashed through the front door. "They have guns, Sarah," he told her. "Big ones." She could feel his hands shaking.
Sarah swore under her breath.
"Did they see you?" she breathed.
"No," whispered Toby, "but I think they're searching the house."
Sarah could hear tromping boots and slamming doors, and knew that Toby was right.
"Okay, this is what you're going to do," she murmured, hugging her brother close. "Go out through the window, and straight to Mrs. Kinnear's place. Go through the gardens, I know you can hop the fence. Don't stop until you get there, and call the cops. Now go!"
Sarah heard a soft rustle, and assumed Toby had nodded, because the next sound she heard was the catch on the window, then more rustling, before she heard a soft gasp along with an impact in the bushes.
And not a moment too soon, because that was when she heard the heavy boots come to a stop just outside the lounge-room doorway.
...
A/N: Yeah, I know, cliff hanger, and ridiculously short chapter. That's because the next bit is quite a bit longer, and I thought I should warn people:
THE NEXT CHAPTER CONTAINS VIOLENCE, AND VIOLENT PEOPLE THREATENING INCREDIBLY VIOLENT THINGS, INCLUDING TORTURE. IF THIS IS LIKELY TO DISTURB YOU, I RECOMMEND NOT READING THE NEXT CHAPTER.
If there is anyone who wants to keep reading this story, but can't cope with violence, I will happily email you a version of the chapter with the nasty bits edited out, so you can keep reading.
Okay, I feel like I've done my duty. Next chapter up tomorrow.