Sarah was attempting to climb the tall walls of the Labyrinth once again, but this time she had neither Hoggle's help nor a rope, which considerably complicated the task.
The situation had a positive side, though. When she finally managed to get to the other side and land on Lorrietta's not-so-clean ground, Sarah was too exhausted to think about the Goblin King and their last confrontation.
But had it really been a confrontation?
"Enough," she said to herself, trying to force her rebellious mind to think of something else. "It's clear that he has a certain magnetism and knows how to use it against me. It's better not to dwell on our strange conversation until I feel less... intoxicated."
Well, Sarah believed she was on the right path once more. But which direction should she take?
"I suppose any direction has an equal chance of being the right one," she said, shrugging.
"And the same chance of not being the right direction at all," a familiar voice behind her said.
It was the old man. Hoggle had told her his name, but she couldn't remember it. It was something like intelligent or wise...
"The Wiseman, that's his name!" Sarah triumphantly remembered.
Perhaps he wouldn't be of much help. In fact, Sarah was convinced he wouldn't be of any help at all, but it was exciting to have one of the familiar faces from the Labyrinth in front of her again. At least with him, she knew what to expect.
However, something was different. Something was missing.
"Oh, your hat... Why isn't it yelling at you, I mean, why isn't it talking to you?"
"Shhh..." the Wiseman cautioned. "It's sleeping, and it gets terribly cranky when awakened without gentleness."
Sarah could easily imagine that and had no desire to see the hat angry. It was already incredibly noisy under normal conditions.
"In that case, I better be on my way," she whispered.
"Hmm," the Wiseman nodded, avoiding moving his head too much.
But she had to do something before leaving, of course. Leave at least a small contribution in the little box the Wiseman was holding. Maybe the hat would be a bit kinder to him if it found something in the box when it woke up. What could she part with?
"You should go to the right. You'll find a door; cross it," the Wiseman suddenly said as if trying to get rid of an unwelcome guest.
"Really? Thanks, you've been of great help."
Maybe the hat was a bad influence on the poor old man, and he was actually as wise as his name suggested. But who could blame him for not thinking straight when a creature perched right above his head screamed at him day after day?
Before leaving, Sarah took off a ring from her finger and carefully placed it on the bottom of the box.
"A ring is just a ring. It only has the value we want to give it."
"Hmm," the Wiseman nodded.
And she walked away, leaving the last memory of her marriage resting on the dark surface inside the box.
The Wiseman closed his eyes and leaned forward, suddenly overcome by drowsiness. His hands trembled slightly, causing the small ring to clink against the edges of the box.
"What? How? What?" the hat shouted, waking up violently. "A ring. She's back. Where is she?"
"She's gone," the Wiseman replied, half asleep.
"Fifteen years! I've only fallen asleep once in fifteen years, and that's the moment she chooses to return. I was planning to help her just to annoy Jareth."
"I did it," the Wiseman replied, proud of his good deed.
"Really?" the hat asked, skeptical.
"Well, of course. Do you think you're indispensable? The right way is to go to the right and cross the door."
"That was the right way until yesterday! Haven't you read the new memo this morning?"
"Hmm..." the Wiseman admitted, embarrassed. But within half a second, he was deeply asleep again, as if nothing had happened.
"I wonder where that door leads today," the hat said.
Sarah would soon find out. She walked toward the door, still thinking about the ring and how getting rid of it had affected her.
"I don't know why I've kept it for so long. How long has it been? At least five years..."
She had kept the ring but hadn't thought about her husband after he left. Or had she left him? Those kinds of details were the hardest to remember. What had come first, her own disappointment in the relationship or his? In any case, as the Goblin King had correctly pointed out, what's done is done.
"Have you ever felt true love?" Jareth had asked her.
And Sarah knew the answer was no. But there were things you had to believe in because without them, the world would be uglier, darker, scarier, or just more boring. True love was just one of them, and anyway, when you dedicate your life to writing fairy tales, you end up believing in the most absurd things. It was just one of the hazards of the trade.
So she had continued to wear the ring, vaguely aware that she had kept it as an anchor to the real world. A world without magical labyrinths, dwarves, evil Goblin Kings. A world where, after a failed marriage, you keep the ring to show everyone that you still care about what happened, even though you really don't. Even though you never did.
Sarah crossed the door, only to find herself falling once again into the worst of dungeons, an oubliette. And knowing that this time, no one could help her.
Or perhaps someone could. Sarah felt a presence behind her.
"Hoggle?" Her constant need for rescue was becoming embarrassing. If this continued, Jareth would never accept his defeat. But on the other hand, beggars can't be choosers...
A door opened in one of the dungeon walls. It wasn't Hoggle but one of the goblins.
"Come with me," the not very pleasant creature ordered.
"Why did Jareth send you?" Sarah asked. "Wasn't he planning to leave me locked up here for all eternity? That's always been his style."
"Come with me. We don't have much time."
"Why should I go with you anywhere? Excuse my bluntness, but you don't exactly inspire trust."
"I don't think you have a choice. If you want to win, I can help you. But you have only this chance. If you refuse, you've lost," the goblin explained, ex
asperated by her reluctance to be saved.
The goblin wasn't taking his eyes off the open door in front of him while speaking, as if expecting it to disappear in a matter of seconds.
"You're one of his goblins; you'd never help me."
"We can keep arguing about my motivations or go to the castle and claim your victory. You have to decide."
Sarah stubbornly remained silent. It was a decision too difficult to make. She didn't trust the goblin, and she didn't trust Jareth. But reaching the castle without external help seemed impossible at the moment.
"This is too dangerous, I have to go," the goblin said, interrupting her thoughts and stepping through the door.
"No, wait!" Sarah shouted.
And she followed him through the door.