The first thing Sarah noticed as the world stopped spinning was that it was most definitely raining. Wherever they had landed was in the middle of a rather intense rainstorm and in the time it took Sarah's head to stop spinning the deluge had already plastered her dark hair to her head and was beginning to soak into her clothes.

The second thing she noticed was that her traveling companion now resembled a waterlogged cat. His silken shirt clung to his body and his hair lay in bedraggled sheets around his face and Sarah couldn't help but burst into laughter.

He petulantly folded his arms across his chest and waited, "Really Sarah, is that absolutely necessary?"

She looked up between the bedraggled strands of her hair, her amused tears mingling with rain trailing down her cheeks, as she clutched at her sides. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry," she managed between manic gasps, trying to get a hold of herself. She managed to regain a bit of composure, but made the mistake of looking at him again all haughty, and annoyed and so very bedraggled; so very far from the cruel, calculating trickster that had haunted her run through the Labyrinth.

"Oh really," he said sardonically while trying to push the sodden hair from his face with as much dignity as he could muster, and then to Sarah's surprise, he began to laugh. It was not the callous, deriding laugh she was used to; rather it was something filled with warmth and was almost melodious. He met her eyes and for a moment they laughed together like two old friends just caught in the rain without an umbrella yet again.

He reached out a gloved hand toward her, and lost in the moment she reached out and placed her in his without a moment's thought.

"If you're quite done shrieking like a banshee," he said as he pulled her closer, "we should get moving and get out of this maelstrom."

"I was not shrieking like a banshee," Sarah rebuffed, trying to pull away from him while slipping on the rough, uneven ground. His arm slipped around her waist as she began to fall. She shot him a look from the corner of her eyes, which she felt was being purposefully ignored. "Anyway, why can't you just magic up some fabulously glittery ponchos or just poof us out of this mess? Being at the mercy of the elements seems a little beneath the great and powerful Goblin King."

"Normally you would be right my dear, but at the moment I'm afraid we have to play by a different set of rules. My magic would draw the sort of attention we wish to avoid, so I'm afraid that we will have to … what's that quaint phrase? Oh yes, rough it."

She studied him for a moment, searching his eyes for the truth of the matter, until "Damn it. You're telling the truth aren't you?"

"Of course I'm telling the truth," he seemed genuinely offended. "Do you honestly think I would deign to spend a moment like this if I had a choice?"

Sarah sighed, "Of course not, but do you even know what that means?"

The Goblin King sniffed and grimaced, "It means we had better find what we're looking for quickly."

"And that would be what?"

"The way in." This was clearly as much answer as was needed and he pulled her along with him as he started down what Sarah sincerely hoped was a path.

They moved cautiously through the rocks and muck that surrounded them. It was dark, and from the intermittent flashes of lightning which illuminated the sky Sarah could see that to one side of her was a dense, dead forest. The trees' spindly arms contorted grotesquely against the sky, calling to mind classic black and white horror movies. On the other side rose sheer rock walls, slick with mudslides and almost vertical ramparts of stone reaching into the heavy, storm laden clouds.

They traveled together in miserable silence for what seemed like hours, slipping on mud, scraping knuckles and knees on boulders and branches alike. The path between the mountain and the forest seemed to stretch on forever.

It just goes on and on...

"What are we looking for?" Sarah shouted over the thunderous din around her as she scrambled behind him.

"The way in," he shouted over his shoulder. "They make it hard to find so we just have to keep looking."

She pushed the wet hair from her face again, "Damn it, but what does it look like?"

He was looking out above and beyond her, so she reached out and grabbed his arm. "Do you even know what we're looking for? Answer me!"

He shouted back, shaking her grip off and throwing his hands into the air. "The way in! That is what we're looking for. It's just the way in and it will show up when we find it and we just have to keep going."

"You've got to be kidding me! We've been marching around in the mud and the rain to find something and you don't even know what it is?" Sarah let out a yell and marched away from him, lashing out against the nearest rock wall. She beat her fists against the stones, fighting with every ounce of strength not to repeat the words… it's not fair.

She couldn't tell in the rain if she was crying or not, but it felt like she was by the time he reached her. The adrenaline had worn off and she had no energy to fight him as he wrapped his arms around her. Not even her long-suffering stubborn streak put up a fight as she tucked her arms against his chest and cried, let out all the frustration and desperation she had kept tucked away since she arrived. He did not move, or speak; to Sarah's surprise her old enemy stood there, arms around her, his cheek resting on the top of her head and she let the shuddering sobs leave her body.

Maybe she was foolish to even attempt this. Maybe it was hopeless and maybe she was in far over her head, maybe they should just give… and that is when she felt it; a slight tug on her pant leg.

Sarah peeked between her fingers and over his arm and looked down at her leg and there standing next to her was what, unbelievably, looked remarkably like a little old man, that is, if little old men were made of potatoes.

The potato man sniffed and furrowed his brows as she gaped at him and then wordlessly turned away and slipped between two rocks in the wall where she could now see the faintest seam of golden light. Sarah looked up at the Goblin King incredulously, then to the seam in the wall and back to him.

A smile drew across his face and the mischievous glint filled his mismatched eyes.

"Ah yes," he said, "that would be the way in."