Chapter 8: The Haunting of Harrows Lane

"Er, yer Majesty?"

"What is it, Hogbob?"

"It's Hoggle!"

"What about him?"

"Arrrrrrrrrrr."

"Are you dying, Higspit?"

"No?"

"Well, you very well soon will be if you do not leave me the fuck alone."

Hoggle squeaked, trembled, and swallowed hard before standing his ground.

"Yer sulkin'," Hoggle bravely said, his voice only ever so slightly quivering. "More so tha' usual, I means."

The King had been draped across his throne, drinking, and throwing crystals at hapless goblins for a few days now, cursing his cousin more than usual.

"And what business is that of yours, Hogpit?"

"Things ain't gettin' done round here," Hoggle said mulishly.

Jareth uncurled from his throne, instantly towering over Hoggle who hastily stepped back. Not because the Goblin King was staring daggers at him, but rather because he wasn't. His eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot as if he had been crying. But Hoggle knew that was a physical impossibility.

Fae couldn't cry.

"Have you heard from the Champion recently?" he asked, striding towards the nearest window, and looking out over the Labyrinth that was changing walls erratically in response to the mood of its master.

Hoggle swallowed. This was about Sarah?

"No, yer Majesty. Not for a while."

Jareth merely sighed. "And you won't, Hoggle. She is to be married."

Hoggle barely registered the use of his actual name. Hurt expanded in his chest. She never mentioned getting married when she last called. She only mentioned the Rat. He knew he could never attend her wedding Aboveground, but it would still be nice to have heard about it. From her, and not from His Royal Rat.

Hoggle had enough brain power to realise that Jareth wasn't taunting him about the fact he knew of Sarah's betrothal before he did.

"Pardon?" Hoggle scratched his head. "Married?"

"Yes, to Diddershins Gly."

"Didder—?" Hoggle shook his head violently and stomped towards Jareth. "He won't treat her rights. You need to stop—"

"Hoggle, you dare tell me what I need to do?" The King spat, without turning from his perusal of the view. "Besides, there is nothing I can do."

"He will hurts her," Hoggle yelled, his anger rising. "He will treat her worse than you ever could."

Hoggle took a step back, well aware that he had more than crossed the line but instead, Jareth's shoulders slumped, and he heaved a sigh so deep he must have mustered it up from his boots.

"And she has been claimed by Diddershins. He is her property now."

Hoggle had never seen Jareth so defeated. Not even after the only time he'd lost the Labyrinth challenge. Hope had still existed for him then, in the form of anger and then determination.

But now, the Goblin King's shoulders were shaking. Not with laughter, but with dry sobbing. No one would believe him at the King's Knackers Tavern that he caught the Goblin King trying to cry.

"We has to do something," Hoggle said feebly. "We can't let this happen."

"It has happened, Hoggle."

"There is still time."

Jareth turned then and shook his head. "I've lost, Hoggle. For the second time in my life. You don't need to rub it in. I know you take immense pleasure in throwing your friendship with Sarah in my face. You were quick to boast about her kissing you during her run, after all."

Hoggle spluttered in indignation. He had been thrown into the Bog for that kiss and he certainly hadn't boasted about it. He inhaled deeply, knowing it was pointless getting worked up when Sarah's life was at stake.

"Jareth!" Hoggle bellowed, thinking only of Sarah and not his own useless hide. "Stop stewin' in yer misery. It ain't savin' Sarah from Lord Gly. He will do unspeakable things to her. He will use her to has lots of babies and none of it wills be her choice."

The Rat looked as if had been slapped, but it quickly resumed an air of indifference.

"I will let you off with just a minor beheading for that infraction."

"I don'ts care," Hoggle yelled. "Murders me if you has to, but don't let Sarah marry that…that rat flea."

Fleas were ultimately worse than rats, Hoggle concluded, as his chest heaved, and his hands started trembling where they were placed on his hips. He wasn't usually so suicidal, but he loved Sarah and would draw his final breath before seeing her in the hands of that grubby fae.

Jareth wasn't a much better option, but he was a better option. He at least wouldn't take Sarah by force.

The King looked thunderous for a few moments before crossing his arms and relaxing his shoulders ever so slightly. "And do you have a plan?"

Robert was impatient with the police. He was also suspicious of Jamie. After he had rang the other day, he hadn't been seen or heard from again. He had called Jamie several times to no avail. So now, having been denied sleep due to crippling insomnia, he was pacing the cold, dark streets around the neighbourhood.

He found himself down Harrows Lane. It hadn't been intentional. But he was soon standing in front of the abandoned house that Jamie had fought tooth and nail to protect. A house he claimed he had been doing up to house his mother. Yet, here it stood, still lacking habitation, and still falling apart.

Whilst, he had been Jamie's legal advisor and had met the man many times in his office, he had not once set foot on Harrows Lane to witness the house for himself. He didn't need to. It was a pretty straight forward case with the Ordinances department—an open and shut case that protected the house from being bowled due to historical relevancy.

Robert stared at the grimy facade, and it suddenly occurred to him that he didn't know where Jamie lived. He had assumed he lived here—that he had done the renovations necessary over the years for his mother to move in with him. But no one could be living in such a...dump.

He gritted his teeth as he considered his plan of action. The house violated every OSHA code in existence just from the outside. The door hung off the hinges, the windows were thick with yellow grease and dust. Dead flies littered the windowsills.

It would be the perfect place to hide a kidnapped daughter.

He moved forward, warily, looking up at the second storey windows and his breath caught in his throat. Standing at the window, with her hand pressed against the sticky looking glass was Sarah. Her eyes shone with tears and her mouth opened and closed as if she was yelling at him.

Robert was spurred into action, he gestured at Sarah to wait there, and he tore through the door of the building. The first thing he saw in the dimly lit house was a grand staircase, crumbling and missing steps. The floorboards between them and the threshold where he stood were rotting, missing or cracked. He skidded to a halt as he knew that he would have to pick his path carefully.

"Dad..." He heard coming from upstairs like a ghostly echo. He was about to take the first step when he heard someone behind him.

"That house is haunted." It was a male with a rough, lazy voice. He spun around to see a figure who had the harrowed look of a man with a high drug dependency. "I wouldn't go in there." Then the man laughed, sounding rather deranged. "The devil himself lives in that house and his whore..." The man spat on the ground but didn't seem inclined on finishing his sentence.

Robert was about to ignore him when he suddenly recognised the man.

Travis Haverstock.

One of the men high on the list of suspects. Him and Gavin. However, both of them had provided a solid alibi. Gavin Henderson had been out of the state for a week with his new girlfriend, Ursula. Travis Haverstock on the other hand had been locked up, awaiting bail for assaulting his daughter.

"How did you manage to get bail?" Robert hissed.

Travis grinned revealing a few more gaps in his teeth than the last time he'd seen the man standing outside the supermarket.

"I have a guardian angel," the man said, leering. "One who always rescues me from being locked up and out of court."

Robert felt his stomach curdle, but the urgency urged him on. Sarah was upstairs crying out for his help.

"Well, whoever he is, won't be able to provide bail for much longer," Robert threatened, determined to ensure that this man would be locked up for the rest of his life.

Travis laughed. "If I have avoided prison for some of the crimes, they have accused me of, what makes you think that I won't get away with more?" The man shook his head. "I don't even know his name. A blonde man. Good luck finding him."

Then Travis seemingly vanished into the night. Robert turned around to peer back into the house, convinced that the blonde man that kept bailing Travis out was Jamie Martin. He had been such a fool to trust such a charismatic man.

He gingerly stepped onto the next floorboard, wishing he had brought a flashlight. The board held his weight.

He wanted to call out to Sarah, but he also wanted to ensure her kidnapper wasn't alerted by his presence, which was a belated thought given how he had conversed with Travis while on the doorstep.

Sarah's voice called down the stairs once more, ushering him forward. Eventually after what seemed like an eternity, he made it to the stairs. He held onto the banister with both hands and took the first step. Relief flooded through him as it didn't crumble under foot. He stretched out his foot to place on two steps above and pulled himself up with his hands at the same time. He took a deep breath when it creaked but didn't give and then went to take the next step up the stairs.

It was then that the entire staircase gave away, almost appearing to turn into a slide. Thankfully, Robert was still clinging to the banister, so after a bit of fumbling, he gained a foot hold on the frame of the stairs. He inched his way up, using the banister and managed to navigate the gaps where that too had rotted away.

After a massive effort, he fell onto the landing, wheezing, and sweating. He wasted no time trying to catch his breath as he lurched to his feet and made his way along the corridor in complete darkness. The first door on the street side was ajar and he could see it was vacant. At a guess he felt the room she was in was two doors away.

The second one was shut, but not locked and creaked open ominously to reveal yet another empty room, rife with mould and a pungent smell.

Robert felt around for a doorknob of the third door and then that's when he heard Sarah inside the room. Heart racing, he turned the doorknob and threw the door open with all the urgency within him.

His eyes widened and then instantly narrowed at the sight before him.

"So again, Hoggle, what is your plan?" Jareth asked, trying to hide the fact his mouth just wanted to slur the words given how much alcohol he had consumed. He also ignored the fact he had used his proper name instead of some insulting derivative of it.

"We stop her from gettin' married, to that rat flea."

"We just...stop...her," Jareth said slowly, glaring out of his sore, dry eyes at the offending dwarf.

"Er...yes."

"We just—" Jareth felt the wards shift at the house on Harrows Lane. In an instant, he turned to Hoggle and grabbed his by his shirt, lifting him off his feet. "Think of a plan Hogpin."

He released Hoggle, who fell clumsily to the ground with a groan. He strode with a swirl of his cloak out of his castle and then into the sky as an owl.

Usually, when Jareth felt intruders in his home, he would eject them from the premises as soon as possible. The obvious exception was Sarah all those years ago when she was the only person to ever see through the glamour and find his mother in the living room. And the subsequent visits she had made to his Aboveground home.

His mother was always protected and given her lack of magic, volunteered to stay out of the way of any trespasser. Of course, Sarah was once again the exception to that rule.

But when he saw that it was Robert that was making his way up the staircase, he paused.

He watched from the shadows as the stairs gave way and he grasped onto the handrail for dear life. He was about to announce his presence once more when he heard the voice of Sarah calling down from upstairs.

Like a ghost.

In an instant, he vanished and reappeared into the room he had heard her in. He looked around, a frown etching his forehead. He had the capability of seeing the house as it really was and also as those untouched by magic would see it.

He viewed the room, flitting between his two visions.

Until his eyes landed on a smudge on the window that he could only detect in the mortal perspective. He stepped closer, noting that on closer inspection it was a handprint.

He spun on his heel as the door violently opened.

Jareth stared at Robert for a few seconds, coldly aware that he was dressed as the Goblin King and not Jamie Martin. He was also doubly aware that this was an angry father looking for his daughter and he was standing in the room where her voice even now echoed in both their ears.

"Jareth! You unimaginable bastard," came her voice in the space all around them. "Let me out of this fucking room."

Jareth's eyes left the furious face of Robert to look at the handprint on the window.