Eighty-seven Years Later…

Pure silence.

A cold wind drifted beneath Jareth's nares… a wind as icy and unforgiving as the hearts of the Fae bastards below him. He remained motionless, keeping his feathers tight against his body. His wings folded and his head down, the chill wind rippled across him. It was unseasonably cold for this time of year, and he huddled into as compact a ball as he could make himself.

From his vantage point in the trees, he scanned the camp in front of him. The area was shielded from magical scrying, despite the Goblins' best attempts, which meant that someone had to sneak in and take a look around.

Naturally, that fell to the Raptor Squad.

Almost as soon as they'd gained the ability to polymorph into their owl forms, Jareth, Garthan and Randel had insisted upon serving with the rest of the warriors, doing what they could to defend their people. At first, they had been assigned to simple guard duties and other low-risk activities, but it was soon clear that to hold them back was a disservice to the Goblins as a whole. Thus, despite his severe misgivings, Vesryn started assigning them special missions, mostly sabotage forays, but sometimes foraging and pillaging operations.

Jareth, being the most powerful magically of the three, was the main asset. Garthan and Randel made it their job to protect him while he used his magic in various ways. They'd quickly discovered that the Fae relied rather heavily on magic for their daily lives, and a small application of Jareth's powers could reap huge results when sabotaging a water source, or even a sewer system.

They'd even participated in a rescue mission last month. Coming upon a warband, they'd discovered that the Fae had taken a group of Elves prisoner and were bringing them back to Ardalon. It was Jareth's good fortune that he had taken a few Ughlánas along, who had been assigned to transport whatever goods the Raptors could 'liberate'. Randel quickly came up with a plan to cause a diversion on the North side of the camp. As the Fae rushed to meet the threat, Jareth, Garthan and the Ughlánas snuck over to the cage that held the Elves and freed them, the Ughlánas transporting them out. Jareth sent a fireball into the Fae command tent as well as the soldiers' tents, setting quite a blaze, and in the confusion they were able to slip into their owl forms and fly away.

This time, however, their mission wasn't exactly clear. When Vesryn discovered this area being impervious to scrying, he naturally assumed that there was something here that the Fae didn't want the Goblins to see. And of all the squads of warriors, Jareth and the Boys were the best choice to send. They were supposed to look around and return with a report.

Thus, Jareth found himself perched in a tree on the perimeter of the camp. Garthan and Randel were similarly perched on the other side. From what he could see, there were three separate units of Fae warbands, their tents spaced around the camp evenly. In the center of the camp was the Weaponsmaster's wagon, the horses unhitched and tied in a small clearing near the edge of the camp.

Now, that's odd… they've been here for a while, and it doesn't look like they're going anywhere, anytime soon… why stop here? With a Fae village not three furlongs away?

His gaze returned to the Weaponmaster's wagon. Stationed around it was a ring of about six guards. This made no sense… unless…

What's in that wagon? What could they be guarding?

Casting a deflection shield on himself, he silently glided over to a bush near the wagon. Creeping slowly, one small step at a time, he made his way through the underbrush without even rustling a leaf. Judging from the number of guards these tents could hold, the Fae were determined to protect this wagon from assault, thinking that any enemy would be spotted long enough to sound the alarm. None of them considered that the enemy would swoop in soundlessly to the perimeter and creep in on foot.

No one could have done it except a Goblin.

The lack of planning for a Goblin in owl form to sneak into the camp told Jareth volumes about the quality of the military commander he was dealing with. Moving inch by inch, he proceeded closer and closer to the wheel of the wagon. He was about halfway there when he froze, hearing the footsteps coming closer to the shrub behind which he was hidden. The cover that a moment ago had seemed adequate now felt like a thin veil. He held his breath, not even daring to turn his head to look behind him at the source of the footsteps.

The footsteps stopped, and he heard a muffled curse. Then, he heard the rustling of cloth and the unmistakable sound of a thin stream of liquid hitting the ground. Mercifully, it wasn't landing on his feathers. He heard the Fae yawn, then the sound of his breeches being hitched back up as he walked away.

Jareth turned his attention back to the wagon before him. Using his Sight, he could detect the wards on the sides and roof of the wagon, but no such wards were placed on the underside. He slipped under the wagon quickly and quietly, shimmering back into his Othánas form while lying on his back. Listening carefully, he was satisfied that no one was in the wagon. Using his claws, he slowly and silently pried at the floorboards near the axles, the mud and moisture there having rotted the wood. After about fifteen minutes of patient work, he was able to remove enough of the floor that he could slip inside.

Stepping gingerly on the floor of the wagon, crouching down a bit so as not to brush the ceiling, he looked about. Instead of the usual swords, shields, bows and bushels of arrows, he saw only boxes. Holding his hand out to one of the boxes, he could detect strong magic, but no warding, no trapping. Slowly and delicately, he opened one of the boxes, every muscle in his body prepared to spring away.

Inside were… sticks. No, not sticks… some sort of rod or wand. The bottom part of each one was wrapped in leather, the tip spiked with a crystal. Magic came off these things in waves…

Oh, shit… I'll bet these are Karhanna wands…

Like all magical beings, the Fae performed their tricks using the energy within themselves. While their individual pools of magic were greater than those of the Othánas, at least excepting Jareth himself, they were still finite resources. The Fae, however, had developed a way to store raw magical power temporarily, enabling an individual warrior to wield much more magic than they ordinarily would have. Someone holding one of these wands could use the energy stored within to launch levin-bolts… and judging from the amount of magic stored in each wand… one warrior could expend the magic of ten.

A quick look around the wagon and a few mental calculations gave Jareth the total… there were about ten thousand of these things in here. And given the amount of time and energy that charging one of these required, he was looking at years of effort. This was probably their only stash of these in any great numbers. And due to his own sabotage and pillaging efforts, they had realized that to keep them in a village was an invitation to their destruction. Had they not shielded it from scrying, the Goblins might not have even paid attention to this little camp.

They had suspected that the Fae were planning a major offensive against the Goblins, perhaps even a methodical extermination effort. And if each of those warriors had access to these wands… Jareth's people would be wiped out in short order.

Regrettably, the wands were useless to the Othánas. He would still bring one back for study, perhaps there was a way to make a version that would use Goblin magic as opposed to that of the Fae. Grabbing two of them, he placed them in his mouth, between his teeth, like a horse's bit. He counted to himself, silently.

One.

Two.

Three.

On three, he used his magic to burst through the roof of the wagon. At the same time, he leaped up, launching an incendiary spell at his feet and transforming to his owl form. He flew upwards as fast as he could, the explosion from his magic singing his own tail feathers.

Almost like clockwork, he heard the screams from the perimeter as Garthan and Randel let loose with their bows. The soldiers wouldn't know which direction they should go… the inferno from the wagon had now engulfed the tents around it. In his peripheral vision, he could see some of the Fae running around, aflame, and screaming. He flew straight up, determined to get as much distance between him and the Fae archers as he could. Once out of range, he turned toward the predetermined rendezvous point, knowing that Garthan and Randel would follow as soon as they saw his escape.

They rendezvoused quickly, then Jareth transported them to the outer runes. Realizing that the Fae could trace their transportation magic, the Goblins had set up several waypoints for people to transport to and from. This had the effect of muddying the traces of transport magic, making it impossible for the Fae to follow them to their home camps. It expended quite a bit of energy to transport more than once, thus there were always some Ughlánas stationed in rotation around each runed area. As soon as Jareth, Garthan and Randel had materialized, the Ughlánas scampered over to them, taking them by the hand and transporting them to the command tent.

Jareth saw his mother sitting over at the far side of the tent, going over the supply lists and requests from the other camps. She looked up when they'd 'popped' in, the relief on her face evident. She moved over towards them, hugging all three of them and examining them closely for any injuries. Behind him, he heard Vesryn stepping forward. All three boys turned to face him, Jareth only belatedly realizing that he still had the wands in his mouth. He took them out from between his teeth and grinned at his father.

"Report, warrior."

"We found out what they were guarding… these rods. I think they're Karhanna wands. There was a wagon in the center of the camp, a Weaponsmaster's wagon. Inside were boxes of these things. I grabbed a couple, then blew up the wagon."

At this point, Randel spoke. "When we saw Jareth fly out of the wagon, we took out some of the Fae archers on the far side of the camp with our bows, hoping to get them to launch an attack in the wrong direction. It worked… they were so busy looking at what was going on in the center that they weren't watching where the arrows came from, and they ran around in confusion. As soon as Jareth was out of range, we met him at the rendezvous point."

Vesryn nodded, "How many Fae do you think were neutralized?"

"At least six just in the perimeter around the wagon," said Garthan. "Randel and I shot another four of them… and the explosion from the wagon set fire to the tents around it. I saw another three engulfed in flames. So… at least thirteen, but that doesn't account for those who were perhaps trapped in the tents. Might be more."

One of the more senior commanders spoke up, "We know they were planning a large-scale sweep of the hinterlands… if they had a supply of these wands, it would have done the work of a force at least triple their size."

"I calculated probably ten thousand of these things. If you assume each warrior had two or three of them…" said Jareth, slowly.

"Yes… and they've been trying to stealthily assemble their forces without us catching on. Given how many we've tallied… they have about a thousand warriors that were going to be supplied with these things." Vesryn gave all three of them a wolfish grin. "It probably took years to stockpile all of those wands. This will set their plans back a bit."

"Indeed… and I think this calls for a round of ale!" shouted one of the other commanders. A cheer went up around the tent, while the Boys were treated to much back-slapping and congratulations. Jareth smiled brightly to the crowd around him, for the moment feeling rather happy.

Until he met his mother's gaze.

She was proud as she regarded the three of them, no doubt. But mixed into the pride shining from her eyes was something else.

Worry.


Author's Notes:

These are the kinds of missions The Boys did on behalf of the Goblins. One of the only reasons their people could survive was by staging raids on the various towns that dotted Eire.

It might seem unbelievable that the Fae had let the Goblins survive for as long as they had, but it should be remembered that the Fae are terrified of them. They lost thousands of their people when the Goblins escaped (including many of those in positions of power in Ardalon) which caused massive chaos and confusion in their ranks. All of their usual tactics of hunting parties and warbands fail miserably for the most part, and they're scrambling to come up with a better strategy. Apparently, they realized that they needed a lot more magical power if they were going to launch any kind of meaningful assault on the Goblins, but also had to be careful since Jareth's reputation as a saboteur and raider was growing. They didn't realize that shielding the camp from scrying only made the Goblins more curious as to what they were doing.

The flip side of this is that the Goblins weren't really able to explore all of their abilities when they were back in Ardalon (and those they did, they kept as secret as possible). If the Fae are trying to learn how to fight this war, so are the Goblins.