Path of Strange Stars

Chapter 9: Something Frightening

Disclaimer: The Labyrinth remains the intellectual property of the Jim Henson Company. We are making no money off of this fan fiction; we're just two rabid fangirls who want to see Jareth and Sarah wind up together and torture them while we're at it. :D We've done extensive research into other continuations of the story and have pieced together our own interpretation of what might've happened to these characters. In short, we're trying to do something original-ish. Other fantasy/science fiction influences may, admittedly, bleed into this story.

Authors' Notes: We're sorry for how long this update took. Life hammered us both, and we needed time to address some things.

Considering the direction this story is headed, we went ahead and updated the genre tags to "Adventure/Romance." Though there'll continue to be romance between Sarah x Jareth (because that's mandatory for us as fangirls), it's no longer the sole focal point. We're aiming for something of a dramatic fairy tale with more character growth and worldbuilding. We hope you understand this is what feels best for the story, but if it isn't to your taste, we understand if you move onto other reading material and thank you for giving us a shot. — Mystical_Grace and Meghanna Starsong

Warning for this chapter: Sarah is now on a path in which she will encounter real challenges and dangers. There's going to be a segment in this chapter that has gore; BAD THINGS have happened. That's not to say that we won't have Jareth x Sarah cute scenes in the future, but as of right now, things are leaning towards "getting real" and being bloody.

Edited later

"""""

Sarah approached the thick door, marveling at how its surface blended in with the texture and color of the oak's trunk it was embedded in. The top of it was gently rounded like an arch, and when she placed her hand against it once more, she felt the indentations of bark and wood grain smoothed by age. A buzzing energy traveled from her fingertips up her arm, radiating out into her chest and shoulder.

No doubt, this was the entrance to the Labyrinth's current incarnation.

She studied the Knocker in the center of the door, which was a warm, brassy color, oiled and well maintained. It was shaped like a sleeping goblin's head, with cherubic chubby cheeks and pointed ears sticking out beneath a lion's mane of hair. A long metal ring attached snugly to its neck, and its pursed lips whistled out snores. The Knocker leaned slightly to the right, as if resting its cheek on an invisible shoulder.

Her fingers hesitated on the ring; the Knocker was resting so peacefully that she felt guilty about waking the head up. Reminding herself of the dire circumstances involving her friends, she rapped the ring firmly against the door. The Knocker gave a loud snort and mumbled something about buttered toast before resuming its snoring.

Frowning, Sarah knocked with the ring again—harder this time—and the Knocker finally groaned into wakefulness. It cracked open blurry eyes and smacked its lips together, trying to wet a dried mouth. "Whatcha think yer doin'?"

"I need to go into the Labyrinth," she said.

"Ye're disturbin' my good sleep! How rude! Ye Runners are always knockin' with nary a thought for anyone else."

"I am sorry to wake you, but you're the only way I see to get in."

"Feh! What do I care? I was sleepin'."

She pursed her lips. "Let me through, and you can go back to doing so."

The Knocker righted itself and glared at her. "Too late now with all yer blatherin'. Whatcha want with the Labyrinth, anyways? Doubt an ol' biddy like yerself even go ten paces before somethin' gobbled ye up."

"I'm not old!" Sarah balled her hands into fists and huffed in indignation. She managed to tamp down her ire before replying more. "Look, none of this concerns you. Just let me in."

"'Course it does. Can't enter without me, can ye?" The Knocker sniffed its pug nose at her. "Need to convince me ye're worth the effort of openin' my door."

Losing her patience, she seized the ring and yanked on it, causing the Knocker's neck to strain with the force of it. It squealed in pain and cursed her. "Here's a reason for you: Either you open up already, or I'll make it my lifelong purpose to make sure that you never sleep again," she threatened the stubborn piece of metalwork.

"Off with ye, ye damn violent wench!" There came an audible click, and the door slid inwards into the tree trunk, allowing just a crack of weak daylight through. "My achin' neck! Hope the nightmares in that cursed place eat ye!"

"You're too kind," she muttered back to it sarcastically as she shoved the door fully ajar.

Without another word to the Knocker, Sarah stepped over the threshold of the peculiar door and fell into darkness and mists, like the strange in-between place Jareth had tugged her through earlier. The unsettling weightless sensation washed over her once more, vertigo making her momentarily lightheaded. Then, when she was certain to either throw up or dissolve away into the nothingness around her, she was suddenly through and everything solidified again, becoming yet more looming ancient forest.

Wrapping her arms around herself and closing her eyes, she took a moment to adjust, consciously slowing her breathing. Once she was in control again, she frowned and glanced around, wondering if the magical door was broken or if the Knocker had messed with her somehow. It didn't seem right to still be surrounded by trees. In times past, a door in the Labyrinth always led her somewhere geographically new, somewhere noticeably different from where she'd previously been. Maybe she should try the door again.

But when she turned back to the irate Knocker, both the door and it had faded from existence. Not even the great imposing oak remained. There was nothing but a muddy, leaf-flecked deer track where a set of her own footprints mysteriously started out of nowhere. "Okay, so the door works fine, and there's obviously no turning back now."

Sarah knew from past experience that waiting around in the Labyrinth was dangerous, so she chose a random direction and set off at a brisk march.

The passage of time was hard to judge beneath the trees; eventually, the forest bled together into a never-ending sea of greenery. She went uphill and then downhill, picking her way around briar bushes and avoiding low hanging branches. She walked until the bottoms of her feet ached and the muscles in her legs complained, a sheen of sweat coating her body. She came across a small stream which bisected the terrain. Bracing herself on a nearby trunk, she slid down its rocky bank and squatted down to splash cool water on her face and drink from her cupped hands.

She glanced up at the canopy of leaves, noting how a patch of sky had deepened to a lavender-blue. Must be near to sunset, she thought as she skipped across the stream and then plunged into the landscape on the other side. If it was close to nightfall, she needed to find some sort of shelter quickly.

The forest came to an abrupt end, jolting Sarah. The trees had receded, as if a giant scythe had mowed down the edge of the forest, leaving the ground riddled with old stumps. Some ways off were thatched rooftops and rising wisps of smoke nestled in a dip between two gentle hills—a village. She found herself sighing in relief. At least she could stay in some sort of civilization for the night.

Sarah gratefully made her way down the easy slope, eventually coming upon a little cobbled road leading to the outskirts of the village. She followed it, humming a half-forgotten song from her youth, imagining a soft bed and filling meal in her future. She met no one else in passing, but thought nothing of it. It was likely that the villagers were at their various residences for dinner, or maybe the village was simply as isolated as it looked and infrequently visited by travelers.

A low wall of stacked stones corralled the township, high enough to reach Sarah's waist, and occasional patches of silvery-green moss grew there. The road led through an entrance in the wall, which was merely a missing section of stone big enough for a wagon to pass through. Now she saw proper buildings, mostly round two-story cottages composed of timber and bricks, their skinny chimneys a bit lopsided. She'd smelled baked goods and roasting meat for some time now and her stomach growled.

She quickened her pace, her head swiveling back and forth in search of a sign or a local, but no one was in sight. A few doors to the houses stood wide open, their interiors eerily dark, and stacks of woven baskets had been overturned, their contents of apples and gourds scattered on the ground. Though something about all that made her uneasy, she continued down the main thoroughfare.

Sarah's nostrils flared with the scent of something foul—a faint rot, some kind of decay—and chalked it up to someone's refuse. Then her booted foot landed on something squishy. She looked down, her mind still on her empty belly, and leaped backwards away from what she'd stepped on.

Her mouth opened and closed, trying to form words which never came, and goosebumps erupted all over her as if she'd been drenched in a bucket of ice water. Bile rose in her throat, and she swallowed dryly in terror.

She'd trod on a severed arm, cut off right above the elbow. Something had taken a sizable bite out of the forearm, leaving behind exposed yellowish-white bone and stringy tendons. The hand was still attached, its flesh having gone mauve and death-bruised, and in her horror, she noticed how the clawed fingers seemed to point down the road towards something else.

Don't look, don't look, she chanted mentally, and even as she ordered herself not to, her eyes rebelled and shifted towards someone's guts spilled all over the ground.

Long, purpling innards spread out like carelessly flung ropes on the road, and there was blood everywhere, dried and red-brown against the gray cobbles. Thick, tattered pieces of flesh—perhaps goblin hide—had been flung carelessly aside, along with ripped clothing and other random items. Gore covered all of it.

Further ahead were a bunch of corpses, some sliced into chunks, some decapitated, all with missing limbs or gnawed off sections. Someone or something had arranged them into two distinct piles, as if sorting the bodies according to a bizarre sense of taste. A detached part of her thought the spectacle resembled a macabre selection of meats on a charcuterie board.

Pairs of glazed eyes stared back at Sarah from wounded, empty faces. She was torn between the adrenaline in her system demanding she flee and the pity coaxing her to stay. One of the dead was a tiny goblin girl, her hair in twin braids around curling ram horns. Though only a head and torso now, she'd somehow kept a beloved straw doll with her until the end. It lay abandoned not far off, soaked in its owner's spilled blood.

That, more than anything, cut through her terror and primal need for self-preservation.

She closed her eyes, pulse racing, and balled her hands into fists. Quivering, she spun around, taking in the rest of the village beyond the carnage. More blood, more lifeless bodies strewn across front yards and around houses—a headless goblin leaning precariously out a window, a collection of legs tied together with innards like a clumsy windchime.

A hysterical part of her struggled with the gravity of what she was seeing, denying it was anything other than a nightmare or a well-crafted zombie movie. But the more rational side of her recalled Jareth's previous warning of a darker Labyrinth and the new insidious inhabitants who resided within it. For the first time, she realized he'd spoken the truth; she'd underestimated the dangers that lay within and her ability to cope with them.

"Psst!"

Sarah looked around warily for the source of the noise, backing up a step as she did. Beneath some dense bushes laden with berries in front of a house, a lanky goblin poked his head out and hissed at her, his shiny ram horns catching the last of the sunlight. "Over here, longshanks! Get out of the open if ya value your skin!"

She collapsed onto her hands and knees and scurried over to the goblin's hiding place. "What's going on?" she whispered back, eyes wide. This close, the bushes smelled tangy sweet, an almost sickening contrast to the destruction around them.

"Not here. Come with me." He ducked back beneath the snarled edge of the bushes and vanished, and only the slight rattling of arrow-shaped leaves gave away the direction he took.

She was too big to follow him in such a manner, but she heeded his advice and stayed hunched over, using the subtly vibrating bushes as he passed beneath them to guide her. When the greenery ended, the goblin youth emerged with leaves sticking to his stained clothes and hair and continued to dart through the open on all fours. She struggled to keep up with him and stay bent over, her back complaining the entire time.

They wiggled into the backyard of a neighboring cottage around a stacked pyramid of firewood and snaked over to a sturdy-looking shed. The goblin slipped through a cracked door and then beckoned Sarah in with a hand. As she carefully opened the door further, it creaked tellingly, and she winced. When nothing happened, she scurried into the shed with the goblin and wedged the door shut, sending them into darkness.

She heard the goblin boy shifting around and then his voice came quietly from her right. "There's not much time left till nightfall. It'll be harder gettin' to Maude and the others once we lose the light."

"Harder how? What're we hiding from?" She swallowed around a lump in her throat.

"You saw it, didn't ya? All the dead in Goblinspaw."

"What happened here?"

"Yesterday just at sunset a monster attacked. It killed and ate everyone." His voice grew small and tight, as if fighting back tears. "'Cept me and a few others. We hid till morning when it fell into a kind of sleep. Hasn't moved all day since then."

"Where're the other survivors? Is this Maude one of them?" Sarah's hands clenched over her bent knees, her back still against the door. The fabric of her jeans felt rough but also comfortingly familiar beneath her fingers.

"Maude's been searchin' for supplies and anybody still breathin'. She led us to a hidey hole she knows." The boy touched the back of her hand lightly, his fingers cool. "Because I'm small, I came to scout. Didn't think I'd see anyone here, let alone a Runner."

She shrugged despite the fact he couldn't see the gesture. "Surprise."

"What're you doin' far out in these parts? Goblinspaw's on the outer edge of the Labyrinth. They say the last Runner that came here was a hundred years ago." The boy's voice fairly dripped with suspicion.

"My friends are trapped and I'm trying to help them." It was the simplest, fastest explanation.

"Won't do 'em much good if the Arachnid catches you first."

"Wait, you're trying to tell me a little spider did all this?" she huffed in disbelief. "Are you messing with me? Because given the current situation, kid, that sure as hell isn't funny."

The goblin boy snorted. "Not the kind you're thinkin' of. An Arachnid, a huge beast. The likes not seen in Goblinspaw in an age."

The fine hairs on the nape of Sarah's neck rose. Of all the things to encounter, it had to be a damn giant bug. She shuddered. She hated regular spiders. How was she going to deal with their supersized goblin-gobbling cousin? Maybe I should meet up with the rest of the survivors, find out what I can. We could all escape together; safety in numbers.

"Hey, what's your name?" She shifted up onto her knees and cracked open the door a tad, taking in the sunset red world outside but seeing nothing resembling the aforementioned Arachnid.

"I'm Boppen." She heard shuffling and then he was pressed up against her side also inspecting the vertical slit in the doorway. "And you?"

"Sarah. So, Boppen, what's our plan then?"

From the small column of light leaking into the shed, Sarah saw Boppen's young, dirt smudged face harden and turn up towards hers. "Get back to the others safe and quiet-like. No time to waste."

"Agreed." She didn't see any better option than trusting the youth at the moment. She nodded and crouched over again onto all fours, ready to leave the shed. "Lead the way."

"""""

The "hidey hole" Boppen had referred to earlier turned out to be a deceptively large cave beneath the roots of a half-dead tree. The girth of its trunk was almost Sarah's full height, and it appeared to have been struck by lightning at some point, leaving it split almost down the middle with traces of fire damage. One side of it sported charred bark, petrified branches, and long, off-colored scars; whereas the surviving half had stubbornly grown new branches and put out pale jade leaves.

The cave entrance was set between the exposed roots of the tree's dead side and camouflaged by branch debris and overgrown grass. Sarah studied the opening; it could easily accommodate a goblin, but would be a tight fit for an adult human (especially a woman whose curves had filled in). As she sized up the hole, Boppen shot through it without a backward glance and room to spare. After some deliberation and psyching herself up, she followed after him.

She had to crawl through on her belly with her elbows pulling her forward, her hips and shoulders scraping the uneven dirt walls and threatening to get stuck. Her booted feet dragged behind her, clods of earth poking into her skin and bruising her in places. She tried to ignore the sense of claustrophobia and muscle strain in her shoulders and forearms, narrowing her focus to what was just ahead of her—a hint of fresher air and Boppen's hairy toes.

When she finally made it through, she fell in a graceless heap at several goblins' shoed and clawed feet. She stared around at the cave which was a curved dwelling like an upturned bowl. Her eyes wandered to the formation's roof interwoven with lengths of ropy tree roots and veins of sparkling quartz crystal.

There were thirteen total goblins in the cave including Boppen, and they'd stacked wicker baskets and knotted bundles of supplies in a corner. They illuminated the space with flashing torches and a couple of oil lanterns and had arranged blankets and clothes into makeshift nests. Two goblin children—a swaddled babe of indistinct gender and another girl clutching a straw doll similar to the one Sarah'd seen in the village—slept there.

"Boppen, you're late! You had me worried to death staying out until dark!" A middling goblin with kettle black hair streaked through with silver hurried over from the supplies and grasped Boppen by the shoulders, shaking him a bit. Her right curving ram horn had broken off just below the lobe of her pointed ear. "You know the Arachnid's most active at night."

He placed his hands over hers and bobbed his head in Sarah's direction. "Sorry, Maude, but look. It's a Runner."

The woman, Maude, finally acknowledged Sarah in all her disheveled, earth-crusted glory. The goblins suddenly ringed around her, studying her with eyes as keen and clear as the crystal clusters lining the cave. Maude said almost to herself, "Hasn't been a Runner in these parts since my granddam was little."

Sarah fidgeted beneath the unwavering intensity of their collective gaze. Maude's face in particular was hard and gaunt, so different from the playful mischief of the goblins she'd encountered in the past. Even Hoggle, despite how curmudgeonly he'd been, had held a certain warmth that this creature in front of her lacked.

Realizing she'd been silent far longer than was polite, Sarah cleared her throat and rose to her knees so the goblins' heads were level at her chin. She wiped her filthy palms on the backs of her equally dirty jeans and extended a hand to the matriarch. "Hello. Boppen came across me and told me about the spider. He brought me along to meet you."

Maude frowned and ignored the proffered handshake. "And what do you want with us?"

"Shelter and food for the night."

"Figured as much." Maude's face twisted.

"In exchange, maybe I can help you somehow."

The goblin eyed her with obvious contempt. "Rightly doubt that."

She stiffened at Maude's rudeness and then forced herself to relax. She couldn't rule out the circumstances of their meeting and the trauma involved with it having an influence on the goblin's current attitude. "I'm sure we can come to an agreement."

Maude's frown deepened, jaw tight. She stomped over to a basket, grabbed a cloth bundle, and returned to thrust it unceremoniously into Sarah's hands. "Eat that and I'll think on how you'll be useful to us." She grimaced, as if the act of giving food to Sarah was painful, and then poked a finger in Boppen's chest. "As for you, you're responsible for the Runner."

"C'mon, Maude! That's not fair!" he objected, an incredulous expression on his face.

"You brought her, so you watch her. Understand?"

He groaned but nodded. "Fine, fine."

The group of goblins dispersed, half peeling off to assist Maude in organizing their modest supplies, half tending to the children and resting. Boppen waved Sarah over to a rock jutting up from the cave floor, and the two sat side by side on it. She used her nails to unknot the plaid cloth and revealed a hardened partial loaf of bread and a small wedge of yellow cheese. It was simple fare, but filling enough for now. Silently, Sarah split the food and offered half to Boppen, who eagerly accepted his share.

As she chewed on the nutty bread, she couldn't help morbidly wondering where this monster spider was in the village and why it'd come here to begin with. A town surrounded by hills and forest made sense for an attack due to a conveniently remote location, and, judging from how the locals acted, aid would be a day or more away at best, if any was to be had.

But why go after a goblin settlement of all things? If her memory served, there was a wide variety of creatures in the Labyrinth that would be less troublesome to hunt—brownies, fairies, even wild-spirited Fieries. Maybe the Arachnid's diet favored goblins? Were they nutritional or something?

She recalled Fara's talk about goblin hide being fairly tough, which meant the spider itself had to be scarily strong to have eaten most of Goblinspaw. She'd seen goblin carcasses shredded, dismembered, and entire layers of skin picked off; meaning the goblins' natural defense hadn't been much of a deterrent for the spider.

Sarah gnawed on the hunk of cheese, which was salty-sweet and quite good despite the circumstances, and pondered how to defend the remaining goblins and herself against their foe. Boppen interrupted her thoughts by offering her a leather waterskin. She thanked him and downed a third of the bag, listening to the liquid slosh as she drank and enjoying the cool wetness down her throat.

"Oy, not so much!" he complained and snatched the waterskin back. "We don't have a lot. This has t'last us."

She guiltily wiped the back of a hand across her mouth. "Sorry, I didn't realize."

Boppen heaved a sigh, capped the waterskin, shook his head. "Runners."

"Everyone I meet here keeps referring to the people trying to solve the Labyrinth negatively." Sarah recalled a similar dismissive mindset Hoggle'd had when she'd first met him. "Why is that? What's wrong with us….um, Runners?"

Before a taken aback Boppen could fumble for a reply, a far reaching shadow cast by an oil lamp fell over Sarah. She stared up into Maude's disapproving face, her figure blocking out the little light in the cave. "Runners are a selfish lot, fleeing responsibilities and then trying to relieve later guilt by going into the Labyrinth. You all think you're clever and brave enough to beat it, and you don't care who you cheat or use so long as you win the bet with the Goblin King."

She bristled, Maud's words hitting too close to home.

"I can tell from lookin' at you. You're no different than the others."

"Don'tcha think that's enough?" Boppen asked quietly and hugged the waterskin against his chest. "Sarah isn't…she ain't that Runner, ya know?"

Maude bared her teeth. "You know her—this Sarah—so well already?"

"Well, no." The boy hung his head.

"Idiot child."

"If you have a problem with me, why don't you talk to me directly about it and not pick on some kid?" Sarah demanded, resisting the urge to rise to her feet and ball her hands into fists. Maude's confrontational attitude was bringing out her own temper.

"It's not you, exactly," Boppen said.

"Be silent!" Maude hissed at him, the sound surprisingly reptilian and harsh. She sized Sarah up once more, shifting her weight from foot to foot. "Still mean to help us?"

"I said I would. I keep my word."

"Hmph. Then I've thought of a way you can."

The fine hairs on the back of her neck stood up uncomfortably, her intuition cautioning her that something was not entirely right. Let's hope I don't regret my earlier offer.

"""""

To Be Continued

Rhian: Thank you so much for your answering review! We're glad to hear that you can visualize the scenes we've written and are enjoying doing so! We've also had a lot of fun writing Jareth, and his relationship with Sarah is also entertaining to explore.

Guest 2022: No Hoggle at the entrance this time! Because Sarah's older, and many things have changed in the Labyrinth reflecting that about her, the entrance is in a completely different spot. We have plans for her old friends to make appearances, don't worry! They're one of the main reasons she's currently running the Labyrinth this second time around.: )