Sarah was falling, and this time, no one would come to her aid. She clutched her book in desperation. Her body made a dull thud as it landed on the water, but no concentric ripples appeared on the dark surface, as if it were not a liquid but a mirror. A mirror that, instead of reflecting, showed the horrifying image of a frightened woman drawn by ruthless gravity towards the bottom of the lake.
She was drifting to sleep, still holding onto her book as if it were a baby. "It's so strange," she thought disjointedly. "I can still breathe, but I don't want to." But how was it possible to breathe underwater?
"It doesn't matter," her voice sounded weak and drowsy. She couldn't even hear her own thoughts clearly. Her hands started to let go of the book. It didn't matter; the book was no longer important. It was easier to sleep, easier not to think. She let it go...
"No."
Her voice became firm again, and her hands tightened their grip on the book. Its texture, its weight were solid... real.
"This is all just a..."
"Shhh... dear, don't say it out loud. You wouldn't want to cause trouble for all of us, would you? I'm sure that's not your intention."
Sarah felt comfortably pushed to the surface. There was something beneath her, something soft. When her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she saw it - two whales, to be precise.
"But how can you live here?" Sarah asked, breathing real air again. She could see that her clothes were completely dry, and her book had still the same familiar layer of dust. "This is not even..."
"Hmmm..." the whale next to her mumbled angryly.
"Oh, Mortimer, give her a break. You can't expect her to know all the rules," the other whale protested, carrying Sarah on its back. Then, addressing her, she explained, "You can't speak your mind out loud, or the lake and everyone who lives here will disappear."
Anyone who hadn't visited the Labyrinth before, or wasn't a fiction writer, could have found that allegation rather cryptic, but not Sarah.
"I understand," she said slowly. To herself, she added, "They live in an illusion, and if someone speaks the truth, it vanishes, like the dance hall inside the snow globe."
She shuddered. What would have happened if she had broken the illusion? She could vividly imagine falling forever into nothingness.
"You see?" nodded the sympathetic whale. "She's intelligent and brave. I knew she wouldn't fall for the trap."
"Hmmm..." the other whale responded, still unconvinced.
"You never admit when you're wrong, Mortimer. I told you that..." The whale paused when she noticed Sarah's confusion. "Oh, excuse me, dear. Where are my manners? You must be wondering why we haven't properly introduced ourselves. My name is Edna, and this horrible creature next to me is my husband, Mortimer. Delighted to meet you, Sarah."
Probably it was too late in her adventure to be shocked about the existence of an old married couple of talking whales living in a lake devoid of water, but she had to recognize it was still a bit unexpected.
"Likewise..." She managed to respond.
"Mortimer?" pressed Edna.
"Hmmm..." Her husband finally conceded after a few seconds.
"Nice to meet you too," Sarah graciously replied, not taking his reluctance personally.
As she was trying to figure out where the whales were carrying her, the fake lake seemed to stretch as far as her eyes could see. They appeared to be all alone in that immensity, and Sarah could have wondered how her saviours had just appeared at the moment they were most needed, if she hadn't quickly realized that the whole area was eerily silent, and even their swimming sounds were barely audible. They couldn't have missed her voice, as she had probably screamed for a long while during her fall, before touching the water.
That something so huge could have just disappeared because of one careless word, but knowing its true nature couldn't alter its state at all, made her smile. Like in the real world, the creatures of the Labyrinth pretended unsaid things didn't exist. The only difference here was that the reality of each inanimate and animated object was effectively tied to the spoken word. But what else could have been expected from a kingdom ruled by a dramatic actor like the Goblin King?
"You must forgive Mortimer," Edna whispered, waking her up from her philosophical reflections. "The King has ordered all the creatures in the Labyrinth not to assist you. Jareth can be so childish at times..."
This was something she hadn't contemplated, and the realization made her felt obtuse, and guilty. Putting herself in danger willingly was one thing, but she didn't wish harm to any of the creatures in the Labyrinth, even the ones that hadn't extended her the same courtesy in the past.
"Aren't you afraid of him?" Sarah asked, impressed by their courage. "I thought all the creatures in the Labyrinth worshipped the Goblin King."
"Worship?" Edna scoffed, while her husband contented himself with a single "Hmmm." "Mortimer, don't be vulgar. Using that kind of adjective in front of a lady, what will she think of us?" Then, seemingly forgetting his husband's intervention, she added, "We've known Jareth for so long that we've grown accustomed to his tantrums. Anyway, no one can blame us for preventing you from destroying the lake. It was a matter of survival, after all."
Mortimer didn't seem entirely convinced and muttered something Sarah couldn't understand.
"Sorry, could you repeat that?" She politely asked.
"Oh, please, don't make him talk about that. Once he starts, he won't stop for hours."
Sarah, in the middle of nowhere, probably in mortal danger, and still holding her old book on one hand while the other rested on the back of a talking grey whale, bursted into laughter. She had a silly vision of Mortimer holding a press conference and politely answering questions from a crowd of reporters. It was the thought of someone young, or at least young at heart, and it filled her heart with joy and absurd gratitude towards a certain mischievous character.
But she didn't laugh for long.
"You've known Jareth for a long time," Sarah had so many questions in her mind that she didn't know where to start. "I'd like to know..."
This time, it was Edna's turn to laugh.
"I told you, Mortimer," she finally said, after catching her breath. "Darling, I hope you don't mind what I'm about to say, but... don't you think you're acting like a child too? I understand that you went along with it when you were fifteen, but now you should know yourself better."
"I'm sorry, but I don't understand what you mean," the insinuation was somewhat over her head, but she was offended by it all the same.
"All those grand ideals and excuses, like Toby and a bunch of unknown children. Please, you should have realized a long time ago that Toby was the first..."
"He's angry," Mortimer warned.
"You're right, Morti. I'm very sorry, dear, but we must hurry. It was so nice talking to you that I almost forgot about that stupid bad. He seems angrier than usual. Hold on tight."
Sarah looked at the smooth and slippery surface beneath her.
"Hold on to what?" she shouted.
And suddenly, she was whisked across the lake's surface, her short hair wildly dancing behind her. The whale abruptly stopped next to the shore, and the inertia made Sarah fly before falling heavily to the ground. Luckily, some bushes softened her fall.
"Ouch!" For a second, she thought it was somehow an echo of her own scream, but she was wrong.
"Get away from us, fat cow!" shouted the bushes.
Sarah quickly checked her current physical state. No broken bones, no concussion, just a few scratches. Thank goodness for the small favors, but she was still furious.
"Why is it that every time someone is about to tell me something interesting, Jareth, I end up falling or being launched into the air at high speed? What are you so desperate to hide?"
Sarah was speaking to an ancient tree, its branches arranged in such a way that they could have resembled a mocking face to someone with a vivid imagination.
"Are you talking to a tree?" one of the bushes asked. "You must be a crazy cow."
And the other bushes joined in with a particularly rowdy, unpleasant laughter.
"I wonder where I left my lighter..." Sarah muttered.
The bushes chose that opportunity to keep their mouths shut.
"I see. You are all cowards, just like your master," she sneered, turning her regard back to the ancient tree. "Last time, at least, you had the courage to act on your own. Now you can't even make a single move without your lackeys."
"Is that what you really think?" Jareth retorted, leaning against the rough bark.
Sarah had become so accustomed to his dramatic appearances that she didn't skip a beat after seeing him materialize in front of her.
"What have you done to them?" she asked.
"What I do with my subjects is none of your concern," he replied, dismissing the topic.
For some reason, the fact that he was still leaning casually, as if they were discussing the weather instead of the lives of her dearest friends, infuriated her even more.
"Of course, it is my concern when you punish them for helping me," she stated, advancing threateningly toward him. She knew she might be at a disadvantage in an open confrontation, but at that point she didn't care.
He laughed. It didn't improve her mood.
"Oh, Sarah, how can you continue to be so self-centered? You must think the stars shine in the sky only to make you happy and that the sun rises each morning just to admire your sweet face. They betrayed me; that's the important part for me. The fact that they had such a stupid reason to do it doesn't matter to me in the least. I knew long before our unfortunate encounter that I couldn't expect the slightest intelligence from any of them."
"Unfortunate? There was a time when your opinion of our meeting seemed quite different," Sarah couldn't believe what she had just said. He had proved his complete indifference not that long ago. Why did she keep making a fool of herself in front of him? She half-expected Jareth to laugh even louder, but he didn't.
"If I were in love with you, it would be a very cruel and unpleasant thing to say," he replied with a serious expression. His smile was cold as he added, "But fortunately for both of us, there's no room in my heart for such a ridiculous sentiment. Well, I thought you summoned me here because you had something important to tell me, something that could only be expressed in an intimate tête-à-tête, but it seems I was mistaken."
Sarah remained silent against her will. She had so much to say, but she couldn't think of a single thing that could help her in her battle against Jareth. And he wouldn't answer any of her questions or acknowledge any of her reproaches.
"Have you lost your tongue, or your will? And it seems you've lost something more recently."
It took a while for her to understand his insinuation.
"The book!" She couldn't afford to lose it; it was too important.
The Goblin King watched amused, his arms crossed over his chest, his back still resting against the old tree while she searched among the bushes for her treasure.
"It can't have fallen too far..." she murmured.
But as far as she knew, it could have fallen anywhere. For all she knew, it could be lying at the bottom of the lake.
"It's here!" Sarah exclaimed, relieved.
She gently caressed the cover. It was undamaged, by some miracle the book hadn't even opened in its graceful fall. There was still hope, as her past, present, and future remained bound within those pages.
"Why is it so important to you?" The Goblin King's tone was casual, but there was something unsettling beneath the surface.
Her position was precarious, but she allowed herself to be a bit cheeky.
"The book just saved my life, as you should already know if your crystal ball wasn't too foggy."
"I know," Jareth said, ignoring the mockery. He was starting to lose his patience, "That's the reason I'm asking."
But his eyes met with a radiant smile that forced him to look away.
"That's the real reason why you came. Not because I provoked you, as that would be doing me a favor. You came only for the book because you're a curious creature, and you are dying to know why I carry it with me."
Jareth was too surprised to answer.
"But I'm sorry, Your Majesty. I have a Labyrinth to cross and a king to defeat, so I don't have the time or patience to share that kind of personal information with you. Goodbye."
And without another word, she turned and began to walk away, as if forgetting his presence entirely.
In different circumstances, she might have regretted her action. However, she didn't hear Jareth disappear, nor did she see him reappear on his throne, causing the walls of the entire castle to shake in anger.
Most of all, she didn't see him grabbing the first unfortunate goblin he could lay his hands on and lifting him off the ground.
"Where is Hoggle?"