CHAPTER ONE

What Lies in Store

"Wind's in the east, a mist coming in,

Like something is brewing and about to begin.

Can't put my finger on what lies in store,

But I feel what's to happen all happened before."

-Bert from Disney's "Mary Poppins"

Sarah Guillemin had always been an only child. She was lucky in that regard, but unlucky as well.

It was lucky for her, in that it meant that she did not have to betray her family and herself by surrendering a younger sibling to the whims of the nefarious Goblin King, unwilling or not. She could scarcely imagine what it would be like to do such a thing, how it would destroy not only her family, but also herself at well. Doing such a thing would steadily eat at your mind and soul every day that you walked this earth.

She was unlucky in that she was both first-born and female.

The day Sarah had been born had been one of mingled joy and despair for her family. Of course her parents had been overjoyed when she arrived into this world, tiny, pink, and wailing, but their joy had been tarnished by the ever-looming threat of the family curse.

There had been other first-born females before her, of course, and yet none had been taken by the Goblin King to be his Queen. No one knew when he would suddenly appear to collect his due, but everyone knew that one day he would, and that frightened them perhaps even more than the terrible certainty that came with a second-born child's arrival and subsequent departure to the Goblin Kingdom.

The Goblin King had not been content just with burdening the Guillemin dynasty with the heavy certainty of the loss of many second-born children, no, he had to thrown in an element of uncertainty, as most fae would typically do, to make sure that the Guillemin family would constantly think of him and fear him eternally.

Sarah had heard of hereditary curses before in other families, but they were usually mundane things like being cursed to have an affinity for brussel sprouts or being cursed to always lose their left boot. It was usually done by old witches or hags who had been annoyed because the family had let their children trample her prized vegetable garden, or because they had thrown stones at her cat. Her family's curse was old magic, and they were worse off for it. The fae were rare creatures, and curses laid by fae were even rarer still, and one of this magnitude was altogether singular in nature.

Sarah often cursed the memory of her ancestor, that young woman who could not have been much older than Sarah when she doomed her entire family line. She also cursed the Goblin King, though she was extremely careful to only do so in her mind. Words had power after all, and it was best not to tempt the devil. Sarah could not comprehend how a creature as old and powerful as the king of the goblins could have been hurt so much by the rejection of a mere human. It was altogether unthinkable. Sarah had often found herself wondering why the Goblin King had not forced her forbearer to love him, whether by magic or by blackmail or by some other clever fae way of skillful manipulation that he possessed. If he really truly had loved the young woman, would he not have done anything in his power to win her hand? In hindsight, it seemed as though he had hardly even tried. Damn him. Damn them both.

'After your grandchildren are dead, and yea after their grandchildren are dead as well, I shall spare the second-born child in favor for the first-born daughter. I shall test her, and if I deem her worthy of my affection, my heart, and kingdom, I will take her to be my queen, and it shall cause her more heartbreak and woe than it would have caused you. For all eternity, your descendants will curse your name and detest you for what you have done. Your actions tonight have single-handedly destroyed the future your dynasty.'

She hated the curse. Her parents had always been particularly overprotective of her because of it. Whenever she left the house, she always had to have a chaperone, she was forbidden from so much as thinking about entering the woods, and she was never ever, on the pain of death, to speak to any manner of magical beast, being, or creature, be it fairy, troll, or talking frog. It was all due to the fear of the Goblin King, and the chance that it might be she whom he desired to crown as queen.

Try though she might to put on a brave face and laugh off such fears, Sarah was loath to admit that she was terrified that the Goblin King would take her. However, the way that the curse was phrased, it sounded as though the Goblin King would take the first born daughter of a couple who had a younger child as well. That would certainly rule her out, as she was her parent's sole heir.

Sarah's family had lived by the shadowy woods for hundreds of years. Sometime in that span of years, a Guillemin had been made a feudal lord, and he had replaced the wooden home of her ancestors with a large home of stone and mortar, befitting that of a lord. It is true that he was a minor lord and the tract of land that he had been given was undesirable at best. Those who chose to live near to the woods were cared for and protected by the tragic Guillemin family. These folk knew of the infamous Guillemin misfortunes, and most of them felt that if they chose to stay in Guillemin land, they would be spared of any magical mischief. What idiotic magical creature would dare to hurt or curse a soul residing in the company of the doomed Guillemins, for fear of provoking the even greater power of the Goblin King for attempting to encroach upon his territory? Who dared to live up to a curse such as the one that the lord of the woods himself had bestowed?

The Goblin King had not taken any children for the past few years, for there had been none to take. The past few generations of Guillemin children had thankfully been only children. Surely that had made the Goblin King angry, but no one knew if that was the case, for he had not been seen for nearly a century, and that both comforted and frightened Sarah.

Perhaps the Goblin King had gotten over his grudge, and had decided to forgive the tragic ghost of the Guillemin girl who had spurned him on that night many years ago. Perhaps his long years had granted him the ability to learn how to forgive, and to take pity on the family whom he had ravaged. On the other hand, perhaps he was out there still, just biding his time, growing ever more cruel and cunning as the seasons passed, hardening his heart to the memory of that fateful night by the dark woods.

Or perhaps, there were other forces at work, guiding the hand of destiny and twisting it to suit their own cruel game…

At 20 years of age, Sarah was thankfully past the age of teenage insolence and angst for the most part, but on the other hand, she was not quite old enough to possess the self-assured calm and unforced grace of adulthood. She felt as though she was drifting aimlessly between the two states, and she had no knowledge of how to bridge that gap. She was lonely, and in rare, unguarded moments, she would carelessly wish that she had a little brother or sister to play with and to love, before remembering with a horrified jolt what she would have to do if she had a sibling. It was the thing she both hoped for and feared.

Sometimes, even if you take care never to speak your desperate wish aloud, it will be granted even so. Such was the way of fate.

It was a lovely, crisp morning. The mid-winter frost dusted the earth and made everything sparkle to such a degree that one was momentarily blinded by its brilliance.

Sarah awoke as the first few rays of clear wintry sunlight strayed across her pillow.

Her nose peeked out from under the blankets that Sarah clutched tightly around her face. Sarah grimaced. Her nose felt so cold that she was almost positive that there were icicles dangling from it. She buried her head in the warm blankets, trying to savor the warmth they provided before she had to dash across the room to get dressed.

Sarah squeaked as her toes met the cold stone floor beneath her feet and she quickly sidestepped onto a plush rug, making a mental note to pull the rug over the few inches to her bed so that she did not have to freeze her toes in the morning, as well as her nose.

She dressed quickly, trying to banish the chill that clung to her, and hurried to the dining hall to break her fast. She strayed near the large fireplaces that lined the far wall of the hall, rubbing her hands vigorously. Servants bustled in and out of the hall, laden with tureens of hot, steaming food and loaves of crispy, warm bread. As Sarah sat down at the long table, her father, the Lord Fabian Guillemin, entered the hall and made his way to sit next to his beloved daughter, gracing her with a warm, fatherly smile.

"Good morning, dear one." He kissed the crown of her head and sat down.

"Good morning, father."

Once their morning pleasantries were over with, both father and daughter ate in silence, trying to eat the food while it was still relatively warm.

Sarah's father suddenly spoke, breaking the easy silence that lay between them.

"Your mother says that she feels too ill to come down to breakfast this morning once again. Would you take up something for her? I fear that she has caught yet another late winter cold."

"Of course," Sarah mumbled through the bite of bread in her mouth.

She stuck her tongue out at her father as he threw her a sharp look before rolling his eyes at her ill manners and continuing to eat his own breakfast in peace.

A little while later, Sarah piled a plate high with food for her mother and made her way to her mother's chambers, carefully balancing the plate as to not spill any of the food. She hurried so that the food will still be at least a little warm by the time that Sarah climbed all the winding stairs to her mother's room.

Sarah knocked softly on the door, and pushed it inward after she heard a soft "Come in!" The curtains were drawn, and the room was gloomy but warm. The only light came from the embers that flickered like fireflies in the fireplace. Her mother, the Lady Emeline Guillemin, was still abed, the numerous blankets and furs on her bed shifting as she struggled to sit up.

"Good morning, darling." The Lady Emeline smiled as she saw who it was bringing her breakfast.

"How are you feeling this morning?" asked Sarah, carefully laying the plate down on a side table next to the bed, "Father said that you did not feel very well when you awoke."

"I feel quite strange, to be honest. I am not sure if it is just a cold that is just somehow different from normal colds, or if it is something…else."

Lady Emeline looked a little guilty, and perhaps a little frightened as she finished her sentence, as though she was privy to some knowledge that she had yet to share with the rest of her family.

"What is it?" asked Sarah, sitting down on the edge of her mother's bed and pulling her legs up to tuck under her body. Sarah reached for her mother's hand, and found that she was trembling slightly. "Mother! You're trembling! Please, what is it?"

Her mother turned her face away, but not before Sarah saw a multitude of emotions flash across her mother's face. Despair. Fright. Excitement. Pity. Sarah felt her stomach clench suddenly into a tight knot. Her gut was telling her that this was not the simple cold that her mother was trying to convince herself that it was. Her mother was trying to spare her from some terrible truth.

"Oh Sarah," her mother murmured softly, reaching her free hand up to stroke Sarah's long dark hair, "You worry too much, it is nothing…"

Before Lady Emeline could continue, Lord Fabien entered the room, the tender smile on his face disappearing completely has he strode forward into the room and saw the looks on his wife and daughter's faces.

"What is it?" he asked, a hint of wild edge entering his voice. "Emmy? Sarah?" He looked desperately between the two women.

"I-I don't know," said Sarah warily, gripping her mother's hands tightly in her own as her father came and sat down on the bed next to her. "Mother was just about to say…"

"Go on," Lord Fabien prompted, enclosing his wife and daughter's hands in his own as he tried to steady himself for whatever great and terrible news his wife had in store for him.

"I-I think," Lady Emeline stuttered, her voice faltering, "I think that I am pregnant."

A ringing noise filled Sarah's head, and she could hear the erratic staccato of her heart thudding in her ears. The three Guillemin family members sat stiffly in stunned silence.

"Are you quite sure?" asked Sarah's father, trying his best to inject a forced calm into his slightly quavering voice.

"There are signs," said Lady Emeline a little testily, "And all the signs right now are pointing to a baby. I had thought it was just a cold…"

Lady Emeline suddenly broke into heartrending tears, her narrow shoulders shaking from the force of her sobs.

"But the fact is that we do not know if that is what this is," said Lord Fabian tenderly, stoking his wife's hair as she buried her face in his chest. "We can only hope for the best. It may not be that you are with child. If you are," he paused to lift his wife's tear-stained face to his view, cradling it in his large hands, "We shall welcome a wonderful new addition to this family, curse or no curse, and we will love the child, just as we love Sarah."

Sarah balked at the mention of the curse. She looked away from her parents, afraid to meet their gazes. She did not know what she would see if she dared to look into their eyes. Pity? Hate? Fear? They knew what would happen if they had a second child.

"Sarah?"

Sarah jumped when her father spoke, and instinctively recoiled, somehow expecting harsh words and accusations of a crime that she had yet to commit.

Her father looked at her for a moment, looking a bit hurt at her reaction, before speaking again in an undertone. Her mother still sobbed, but it had calmed from the uncontrollable wrenching cries that she had been producing earlier.

"Sarah, would you please run to the village and rouse the midwife and the doctor? I fear that we will need their combined expertise on this matter.

Sarah murmured in assent and left the room, quietly shutting the door on her mother's soft sobs and her father's gentle words of comfort.

She walked calmly down a few steps, before picking up the pace, her boots slapping noisily on the stone floor in her haste to get away. She flew to her room, quickly throwing on a cloak and scarf before running out again, sprinting through her home, ignoring the startled servants who scuttled out of her way, staring after her with looks of curiosity and surprise.

Cold air hit her face as she threw open the double doors leading into the courtyard, and Sarah shivered, though she was not completely sure that it was solely from the bitter air. Once she was free of the courtyard, Sarah dashed through the trees in the apple grove, the icy branches whipping her face and clutching at her cloak. She bobbed and weaved through the orchard until she could bear it no longer, and she stopped abruptly, leaning against a sturdy tree for support as a harsh sob threatened to break free and overwhelm her. She closed her eyes and turned her face to the sky, which by now was streaked with pink and yellow, backed by watery blue. Two solitary silvery tears fell from her closed eyes, staining her cheeks in their wake. How could it be that fate would deal such a cruel blow? For the past few years, Sarah had thought that her mother had passed the age for bearing children, and she had almost stopped worrying that she would be another Guillemin affected by the Goblin King's curse. Fate it seemed had quite another plan in mind.

Collecting herself, Sarah wiped the remains of her tears unceremoniously from her cheeks and hurried off on in the direction of the village.

The sun was well into its trajectory through the sky by the time both the doctor and the midwife left, both confirming that Lady Emeline was indeed a few months pregnant.

In the turmoil surrounding this revelation, Sarah managed to slip away, feeling that it would be best if she tried to sort out her emotions on her own.

Sarah wandered aimlessly for a long time, winding in and out of the bare apple trees in the orchard, her mind running a thousand miles a minute while her feet carried her mindlessly in any which way.

After an hour or so of aimless wandering, Sarah found herself on the outskirts of the little village by her home. Sarah blanched, and turned hurriedly away, electing to walk down a cart path that was not often used.

Sarah was startled out of her reverie when a lilting voice called out to her, making her jump.

An old woman in a motley assortment of mismatched clothes beckoned her closer, her bony fingers glittering in the wintry sunlight from the numerous rings that adorned them.

There was no one else with the old woman. She was sitting on a stump by the side of the road; the old grey donkey hitched to a small, heavily laden cart her only company.

"Pardon?" said Sarah, standing in the middle of the road as she eyed the old woman warily.

"I said come here, child," the old Romani repeated encouragingly, beckoning enthusiastically to Sarah once more with a gnarled hand. "Come here and let Baba Tshilaba reveal to you your future. I can see that it is causing you some heartache at this moment."

"Thank you," said Sarah, not unkindly, "But I am afraid my future has been revealed to me already."

"Aaaah," said the Romani woman, crooking her finger once more to invite Sarah over to her little camp, "Are you quite sure about that? I see everything and know all, and I can see quite clearly that what you are thinking is dead wrong."

Feeling a bit morbidly curious, Sarah walked over to where the woman was sitting. Baba Tshilaba patted a stump encouragingly, and Sarah sat down, feeling quite silly that she was about to listen to such nonsense, and also hopeful as well. Perhaps Baba Tshilaba knew of some way to break the curse so that she did not have to betray her family by doing the Goblin King's bidding.

"That's better, dear."

The old woman patted Sarah's knee before getting up stiffly and hobbling over to her cart, whereupon she extricated a small folding table. Baba Tshilaba set up the creaky table between her stump and Sarah's, and hobbled back over to the cart, disentangling other items that she piled up in a basket that she had managed to find among the disarray of her cart and came to sit back down next to Sarah. Baba Tshilaba dumped some of the contents of the basket onto the rickety table, and dropped the basket and the rest of its contents on to the snowy ground next to her stump.

Baba Tshilaba smoothed a threadbare silk cloth over the table, and arranged several stubby candles in a silver dish and set it to one side of the small table. She then drew forth a small velvet bag, the contents of which made a dry, rattling noise as she picked up the bag.

"Now child, I am ready to begin. Are you ready? Be sure that you are, for once I begin, I shall not be able to stop, no matter what you may wish. Hard truths shall sweep aside bitter lies, and you shall be privy to some of my great foreknowledge. The past, present, and future are mine to behold, my gift granted to me by God, and I choose to share it with you and only you, child. Banish all of your doubts, for this is no mere parlor trick. I do not let people come to see me, no, I seek out those who I deem worthy of the gift of my knowledge."

The old woman opened the velvet bag and dumped its contents out onto the pale silk. They were bones. Bleached pale and lined with cracks, obviously quite old, and very much not human bones. They looked like finger bones, but the creature whose bones these had been was quite a bit larger than a human.

Baba Tshilaba answered the unspoken question.

"Dragon finger bones. These are older than I, and that's saying quite a lot, believe you me. These once belonged to the great dragon lord Azazel, who was slain by the great knight Baldric the Bold. It took quite a bit of searching to find these bones, but it was greatly worth it. Dragons may be one of the most magical beasts ever to grace this here earth. Their finger bones prove to be exceptionally potent when used in cleromantic divination.

"I shall combine my reading of the bones with my foresight. Perhaps we shall be able to unriddle your future, hmm? I cannot tell you exactly what is to be in the future, but I can give you a few hints.

"So, dearie, tell me, would you like to have your future told by Baba Tshilaba?"

Sarah's head snapped up to meet the eyes of the old woman. She had not noticed how strange the Romani woman's eyes looked, somehow different, alien. Sarah shivered, and it had nothing to do with the chill air around her. She thought of her parents, and of the child that was coming. She made up her mind in a matter of moments.

"Yes please."

Baba Tshilaba's face broke into a craggy grin.

"We shall begin."

Baba Tshilaba gathered up the spilled dragon bones from the faded silk and shook them in her hands. In a low voice, she began to intone strange words, words that Sarah could not decipher. Sarah felt the hair on the back of her neck rise, and she shivered once more. Magic!

With one final chant, Baba Tshilaba released the bones from her hands. They fell through her fingers and landed pell-mell on the table. Sarah glanced from the bones to Baba Tshilaba's face, hoping to discern anything from either.

After several agonizingly long minutes, Baba Tshilaba sighed and straightened up, rubbing her temples as she did so.

"Ah, child, you have one of the most complex futures that I have even seen. It moves and changes like the sands shifting in a desert. So many twisting paths and opportunities for fate to swoop in and twist it another way…pray, tell me, what is your name?"

"Sarah Guillemin," replied Sarah hesitantly, afraid of the reaction that her notorious surname would evoke.

The Romani woman cackled with delight.

"Ah yes, of course! I should have known…" She bent over the bones again, delicately poking at them with the tip of one gnarled finger. She suddenly grabbed one out of the pile and held it up before Sarah's eyes. "Aha, yes, here it is! This bone obviously tells me of you and your family's plight. Hmm, perhaps I need my spectacles after all…"

The old woman clambered off of her stump and shuffled back over to her cart, and after a bit more digging, she emerged with a pair of golden spectacles that she put on. Baba Tshilaba settled back on her stump, as regal as a queen, her golden spectacles glinting in the sunlight.

"I should have known your name immediately when you said that you already knew your own future, silly girl. One of the accursed Guillemin, eh? Ah, that's bad luck, poor lamb. Well, I am afraid that there is nothing that I can do about that, unfortunately, and even if I could, I would not. It is one thing to reveal a bit about the plan that fate has in store, it is quite another to dare to try to change it. Now, let's continue on with our reading, eh?"

Baba Tshilaba bent once more over the bones, studying them carefully. She would occasionally poke at a bone with one ringed finger, or turn one towards the light so that she would be able to examine the cracks in it more vigilantly. After a long while, she exhaled and reached down into the basket by her side and pulled out a thick woolen shawl, drawing around her shoulders as if she had suddenly taken a chill.

The old woman looked at Sarah for a long moment before retrieving a tinderbox from the basket at her feet and methodically lighting the cluster of candles on the table.

"I understand now," said Baba Tshilaba, leaning forward to rest her elbows on the table, peering over the flickering candles at Sarah, who shifted uncomfortably on her stump at this intense scrutiny.

"Understand what?" asked Sarah uneasily. She was quite over the novelty of having her fortune read by the strange Romani woman, and would like nothing more than to slither home and find somewhere to hide.

"Your mother is pregnant, and you are afraid that you shall become another unwilling pawn in the game of the Goblin King."

Sarah spluttered.

"How did you know? I only found out this morning, and the doctor…"

Sarah trailed off as she saw Baba Tshilaba roll her eyes and gesture to the bones that lay on the table.

"…ah." Sarah finished, lamely, folding her hands in her lap, "Of course. I am sorry, please continue."

"I shall not tell you exactly what your future entails, for that is unwise. Life is meant to be lived through a series our own choices, and knowing what path to choose ahead of time only bring about monotony and a perverse uniformity. However, I can offer you a few hints to guide you along your way and to make your journey through the years just a little less uncertain.

"In your life, you shall be put through a great hardship, quite soon, as a matter of fact. But alas, it will not be the one that you dread so much. If this is for better or for worse, I cannot say. It will hurt you more than what you fear so vehemently. You shall be tested as no one has ever been tested before, and whether or not you emerge victorious shall be determined by the strength of your own heart."

"If I may, I would like to give you a bit of advice," Baba Tshilaba continued, "Quite often, child, when it seems as though you are not getting anywhere, remember that in fact, you are. Things or situations are often never quite what they seem to be at first glance in this world, and if you can learn to see things for what they truly are, you can do anything."

Sarah sat without uttering a word, trying to take in everything that the old woman had said. Her thoughts moved sluggishly as she tried to process the load of information that had been unburdened onto her during Baba Tshilaba's divinations.

"Well, that is my spiel, child. I wish that I could help more, but it seems as though the fates conspire against me no matter what I try to do."

Baba Tshilaba rose from her stump, grunting as she did so, rubbing her sore muscles. Once more she went over to her cart and dug through the pile of items. She eventually found a small lacquered box. Once opened, the inside was revealed to contain many small bits of metal, darkly glinting in the watery sunlight. Baba Tshilaba pondered for a moment before selecting one. She tossed the box back onto the cart and dug in one of her many pockets for a moment before coming up with a white satin ribbon. As she walked back over to Sarah, Baba Tshilaba affixed the amulet to the ribbon, proffering it to her.

"One final thing," Baba Tshilaba said, a note of caution in her voice as the gave Sarah the amulet, "Keep this with you at all times."

"What is it?" asked Sarah, holding the pendant up to her face to better study the small item. It was shaped like a sickle moon, lightly engraved with intertwining lines that adorned both sides of the amulet. A small opal sat the in the inner curve of the crescent, glittering softly in the light. Sarah tied the white ribbon around her neck, the cold pendant resting in the hollow of her throat.

"This is made of cold iron," said Baba Tshilaba, "It will protect you against the maliciousness of the fae. "

"You mean the Goblin King," said Sarah in a flat voice, eyeing Baba Tshilaba with a gaze that held more than a little suspicion in it.

"Yes, I mean him. fae are susceptible to iron. It is deadly to most of the younger fae. I am afraid that it will only incapacitate the Goblin King for a little while, but it is better than nothing, no?"

Baba Tshilaba patted Sarah on the shoulder and turned to walk away, clearly done with this exceedingly strange encounter.

"Are you saying that I'll have to meet him?" blurted Sarah, a wildly uncertain note in her voice, "The Goblin King, I mean?"

Baba Tshilaba sighed, resigned, and turned back to face the young woman whose fate was as twisty and indecipherable as the branches of an olive tree.

"I wish that I could say otherwise, but I can see that your future is already intertwined with his."

"Oh," said Sarah unsteadily, a lump forming in her throat. "I see." Sarah steadied herself and after a moment, plastered a genuine smile on her face. "Goodbye, Baba Tshilaba, and thank you," she said sincerely, touching the amulet tied around her neck.

"You're welcome, child. I hope that you feel that you have benefitted from our meeting. Fate can be both generous and cruel, and I have tried on this day to equip you with the knowledge that will help you move more easily along the path that destiny has laid before you."

Baba Tshilaba nodded to Sarah and turned away to pack up the small table and other items that lay scattered on the grass. In a few minutes, she clambered up onto the cart and flicked the reigns that lay across the donkey's back. In a few moments, Baba Tshilaba disappeared around the bend in the road, leaving Sarah alone in the misty twilight.

Sarah looked up at the sky, a little shocked at how late it had gotten, and resolutely turned towards home, her head filled with a little more knowledge and her heart filled with a little more hope than when she had left home that morning.

AN: SURPRISE! I decided that since you all are such lovely readers (and reviewers!) that I would post chapters twice a week! One on Tuesday, and one on Friday! I hope that this will sate your desire for new content in addition to letting me post the entirety of this story before the end of summer. Thanks once again ladies and gents for being such lovely readers. Enjoy the rest of the story!

Also-as is with my last few stories, there are easter eggs (so to speak) and references everywhere in my story. In this chapter, some of the names I picked have special meaning, especially Guillemin. Bonus points to those who unriddle it!

Disclaimer: Labyrinth and its characters do not belong to me. Quotes from the movie belong to Henson, Froud, and Lucas. Quotes from the book belong to A.C.H. Smith.