Although Sarah tried to appear brave, Hoggle's disappearance had dealt a mortal blow to her confidence.
"It was foolish to think he would allow my friends to help me," she had to admit. The Goblin King was right; she had to win on her own this time. But she still missed them deeply.
There was a hint of fear in her heart too, she couldn't fully dismiss. She felt older and wiser in some ways, but weaker in many others. Most of all, she lacked now the naive assurance that she was going to win. And she didn't know if it was possible to beat the Labyrinth without it.
Without noticing, she had stopped advancing, the walls of the Labyrinth closing over her, menacingly. Why had she challenged the Goblin King if there was no guarantee she could win this time?
Then, she remembered why. Toby. The children. The Goblin King was cruel, and she had to stop him. She had no choice.
"I'll cross the Labyrinth and make him keep his promise. That's it," Sarah declared with renewed energy, moving forward.
But a high-pitched voice stopped her on her tracks.
"What? Well, good for you! But you didn't need to mess with the floor I spent all morning cleaning."
An angrily looking rodent creature armed with a mop and no bigger than a middle-sized dog, was at her feet. It was by sheer luck that Sarah had not trampled her on that recent burst of determination.
"The floor?" she repeated perplexed.
Glancing down, as far as she could see there was no such thing, specially something that could be cleaned. The ground was scattered with sandy rocks and pointy shrubs, and that was it.
"Yes, the floor. Are you blind? The last time you came, I spent weeks cleaning up the red stains you left everywhere," the creature retorted, growing angrier with each word.
"I'm really sorry, but there was a good reason..." Sarah wanted to be diplomatic, but couldn't feel guilty for that old ruse. It had been a matter of survival, and she still considered the sacrifice of Karen's most expensive lipstick well worth it.
"A good reason to step on my freshly cleaned floor and draw doodles all over it? Yes, of course, everyone has such great reasons to ruin my work. Then, it's Lorrietta who has to explain to the King why the Labyrinth is becoming so unhygienic and messy." The effort hadn't been clearly diplomatic enough, "Put these," the rodent added throwing a pair of closed, thin soled slippers to her face. But they didn't reach the intended target, and fell down to the "floor" next to her with a light thud.
Sarah hid her face with the excuse of putting them on, barely containing her laughter. The ballet, emerald green slippers fit her feet like a glove, curiously complementing her red t-shirt and lose fit jeans. The magic of the Labyrinth at work again.
"Lorrietta... Is that your name?" she said when she managed to regain her composure, trying to draw away the creature's attention from her cleaning duties.
Lorrietta did look up and ceased her meaningless dusting, but her expression was everything but welcoming.
"Do you think I'll help you? Help you after what you've done? And I have too much work to help anyone anyway," the creature grumbled, taking hold of her mop with a firmer grasp.
"Yes," Sarah sighed, "I suppose you're right. It's just that it would be a shame to step on ALL the floor you've cleaned. But I guess there's no way around it. I have to cross the Labyrinth, you know, and I can't risk ending up in the dungeons again, now that no one can come to my aid. So..." she began to walk slowly, dragging her feet, "If you're too busy to help me, I'll just wander around until I find the right path. I wonder where I put that lipstick..."
"All right," the creature hissed, "I said all right, stop it. I got your point. Come with me," she added grudgingly. "I still can't believe he has broken all our ancient traditions for someone like you. No one understands..."
"What?" Sarah asked trying to get hold of her.
"I said nothing," Lorrietta replied.
And performing a surprisingly quick turn she disappeared right into a wall.
Sarah had to run to keep up with her. The small creature was much faster than she had imagined.
"You mentioned... ancient traditions. What... traditions? And who... who broke them for me?" she tried to ask, out of breath.
"We've arrived," her reluctant guide said, and Sarah instantly recognized the two old doors in front of them.
"But I know these doors. One leads to certain death, and the other drops you into a dungeon!" She protested.
The creatures on the doors nodded enthusiastically, agreeing with her.
"You haven't learned anything since the last time, have you? The Labyrinth changes all the time. Now that door is the only safe way," the rodent said, pointing to the door that led to certain death.
"But they were nodding!" argued Sarah pointing to the gatekeepers.
"Those idiots have no idea what's behind them. How could they? They're always on this side. They would nod at anything you could say," Lorrietta explained, and both gatekeepers, looking embarrassed, avoided Sarah's gaze.
"How can I know you're telling me the truth?"
They both knew the answer.
"You can't know. You either trust me or you don't. It's not my problem. Goodbye," Lorrietta said, turning to leave.
"Lorrietta, please, wait just a second," Sarah pleaded. The rodent stopped, but didn't turn to look at her.
"Promise me there's no certain death behind that door," Sarah requested.
"I don't see the point. If you can't trust me, you can't trust any promise I might make."
"Please..." Sarah genuinely believed that nobody could be this heartless, but she had to admit her knowledge of rat-like creatures was quite limited.
"This is why I can't stand humans," Lorrietta sighed. "Fine, fine. I promise. Good luck," she added dryly before disappearing into another wall.
Sarah approached the door that Lorrietta had vouched for, and opened it.
In that very moment, the precarious calm in the Goblin King's throne room was broken again.
"How could she lie to her like that?" Hoggle roared. "If I catch her one day, I'll grab that little neck between my hands and..."
Jareth wasn't bothered this time by all the ruckus. He was now laughing, in the best of moods. "Very clever, Lorrietta, a very clever move," he praised. "Certain death... in the Labyrinth, nothing is certain, so you can keep your promise."
Nobody else seemed to share his mirth though.
"But we know that the most likely outcome for anyone who opens that door is death, Your Majesty," Sir Didymus sighed.
"Yes, and 'likely' is the keyword here. 'Likely.'"
"You're cruel," Hoggle muttered, furious.
The Goblin King continued to smile, his attention fully focused again on the crystal ball. "You and your adorable friend have the boring habit of always stating the obvious."