Chapter 11

Sarah got the call the following Saturday. She was in the middle of putting groceries away when she heard her phone ring, and she let it go to voicemail without bothering to check who was calling. Vera was at work and Sarah had just talked to her father yesterday, which, sadly, pretty much covered all of her usual callers. Odds were it was a wrong number, or one of her goblin guardians trying to trick her again. (They were, suspiciously, in the other room at present, which was usually a sign that they were up to something.) Watching Vera chat and text with her new boyfriend all week had drawn the creatures' attention to the small ringing devices, and since then they had gleefully sought to make their own with things around the house, like the television remote or her hairbrush, holding the objects up to their pointy little ears and chattering loudly into them. That in itself wasn't a big deal—it was kinda cute, actually, like watching a child mimic its parent—but whenever they did it any phone nearby would ring with an actual call, the number unknown, and when you answered it you'd get an earful of excited goblin chittering. After the eighth time or so, it stopped being so cute.

She pushed a bunch of bananas farther back on the countertop and shoved a twelve pack of ramen up on the shelf, along with a jar of red sauce and a box of spaghetti. She'd almost gotten ziti instead, but the goblins got a kick out of slurping up the longer noodles and she'd been feeling generous after succeeding in getting through an entire week peacefully, phone pranks notwithstanding.

No, not generous, she corrected herself. Generous was the wrong word. It was more like… like…

She was still struggling to think of something when her phone dinged, telling her she had voicemail. With a sigh, she went to see what senseless rambling the goblins had left for her this time. She turned the volume down and held the phone a safe distance away from her ear, in case they had decided to blow raspberries at her again. Which was why she almost missed it when the familiar, long-suffering voice of her agent, Hilary Babineau, came on the line.

Sarah gasped. She turned the volume back up and pressed the cell firmly to her ear.

"About that play you auditioned for on Wednesday…" said Hilary. "The casting for lead female is out…"

Sarah tensed. So soon? But usually it took directors weeks to make final decisions about cast! What had made them decide so quickly? she wondered. But then she heard Hilary say, a bit dryly, "Congratulations…" and Sarah stopped caring about the why of it. She'd gotten the part!

"Call me back so we can start talking about contract negotiations," her agent said. Before she hung up, she adding even more seriously, "And make sure not to blow it this time."

Sarah laughed and tossed her phone back into her purse, doing a happy dance complete with giddy hopping and finger pointing. Hilary didn't have to worry. No way would Sarah blow it, not this time. She had specifically gone after this part because it had absolutely no similarities to a certain kingdom, its creatures or its king. This time… this time…!

The goblins heard her cries of celebration and came scurrying into the kitchen, eager to see what all the fuss was about. When they saw Sarah enjoying her own little freak out, they didn't hesitate to join in too. They chattered and screeched and jumped around along with her, twice as excited as she was for no reason at all. Two grabbed the empty grocery bags on the counter and started whipping them back and forth, while the third hopped into the sink to bang on the dishes left there from breakfast. Sarah laughed and went with it, too elated to scold them. None of them noticed the shadow that appeared in the doorway behind them.

"Well don't you look happy. Good news, I take it?"

Sarah whirled, and her joy morphed into horror to find none other than Rasson standing there.

The goblins gave cries of alarm and scattered, only to think better of it a second later and vanishing, one by one, until only human and Fae remained. Sarah hoped they had gone to get Jareth as planned and not just fled to hide somewhere better, but she was by no means optimistic.

"Oh no, did I ruin your fun?" Rasson asked with mock regret. "My apologies. I know how annoying that can be, when someone comes in and just ruins everything for you. Truly, I do."

He was blocking the only exit. Sarah edged her way back, towards the sink. She couldn't escape, but if she could find something to ward him off, some kind of weapon, even a plate or a pan, just until Jareth could get here…

"What? Nothing to say?" asked the Fae. "Are you perhaps giving me the silent treatment again? You know how much I hate that, Sarah."

"I have nothing to say to you," she told him.

"Oh, but I have so much to say to you."

He started towards her, each step slow and precise. Stalking her. He was dressed differently, Sarah noticed. Gone were the ruffled shirts and dark tights. In their place were jeans and a button-down shirt parted casually at the collar. His hair had even been cut into a more modern, human style. What was that about?

But more importantly, where the heck was Jareth?

I knew relying on goblins was a bad idea, she thought, stiffening as her lower back came into contact with the edge of the sink. She reached behind her to grip the edge, trying to make it look like she needed the support.

"Not curious, Sarah, what I have to say?" asked Rasson.

"I could make some guesses," she hedged, slowly reaching down into the sink. "Is it something smarmy and vaguely threatening maybe? Or a promise of vengeance you'll never be able to fulfill? Let me know if I'm getting warm."

Rasson wrinkled his nose. "Champion Runner or not, your disrespect is beyond the pale."

"It's impressive, isn't it?" She groped blindly for a piece of silverware, a dish, anything. "I've actually been told it's one of my charms."

"If that is your charm, than I would hate to know your faults."

She swiped her hand over the bottom of the sink, finding nothing but some lingering suds. This wasn't working. She locked eyes with Rasson. His smile twisted up, and she knew he was aware of what she was doing. Abandoning subtlety, she spun around, intending to grab the first thing she saw and use that, but the sink was empty. Not so much as a spoon remained.

Sarah stood there, dumbfounded into immobility. No way. At least ten dishes had been in there!

Rasson tsked. "Nice try, Sarah, but no cigar. Or should I say, no dinner plate?"

And still no Goblin King. She was so screwed.

She debated going for the cutlery drawer, but if the Fae could vanish things at will, she doubted he'd let her get her hands on anything useful.

With nothing left for it, she bolted for the door. Unfortunately, it was as hopeless as she feared. He intercepted her easily, catching her by the upper arms and squeezing tight. No matter how much she squirmed, she couldn't get free. Panic threatened. Being so close to Rasson brought back memories of all the other times he'd trapped her, invaded her space, tried to invade her mind. She swore she could feel a burgeoning pain in her back. Sharp pricks from forgotten pieces of glass buried deep in her flesh. Digging… digging… She gritted her teeth to keep from crying out. Something warm and thick trickled down the curve of her lower back, dampening the waistband of her shorts and making her shirt stick to her skin. Was she actually bleeding?

"I understand it all now, Sarah," Rasson whispered. "These past couple weeks I've been doing some research, you see. On the Goblin King. And on you. It makes sense now why he's so taken with you; you're as arrogant and cruel as he is."

"I'm not—" she denied, but he continued on, his words merciless. "Wishing away your baby brother, Sarah? How could you?"

The pain in her back was nothing compared to the shame she felt at being reminded of the one transgression she knew she would never fully live down, and she struggled to push back her guilt and the panic that he suddenly knew so much. She couldn't let him get to her. She needed to think, she needed to get away…

But then he spoke again, and his words made her blood run cold and her mind go blank with terror.

"Maybe I'll take him, innocent little Toby. You may be a Champion Runner, but there's no law saying I can't take the Champion's sibling. I could adopt him as my own; raise him up right. What do you think, Sarah? Then again, maybe you don't care. You wished him away once, after all. Maybe it won't bother you to lose him. Good riddance. Is that how it is, Sarah?"

Her throat constricted. Her words came out hoarse. "Don't you dare touch him."

Rasson ignored her, continuing on blithely, "He wouldn't even be hard to catch. All I would have to do is wait for him at the park. He does so love to go there, doesn't he, Sarah? Even after all these years. The park where his dear sister always took him to play, not knowing she betrayed him, that she tried to get rid of him."

Sarah felt sick. He knew where Toby was. He had been watching him, and she hadn't even known. He could've done anything to him. Still could.

Not Toby, she thought. She would never let her brother be under the mercy of a sadistic Fae ever again, no matter what it took. Never again.

Rasson laughed, enjoying her distress, and Sarah snapped. She threw her hands up with a scream, and it surprised the Fae enough that she was able to break free. The second she did, the pain in her back vanished and so did the sensation of bleeding. Her way was still blocked, however, and she ran back to the sink to grab the only thing Rasson hadn't vanished away: the soap dispenser.

Rasson grabbed for her just as she spun back, and she brought the dispenser smashing down with an angry yell. Skin split and ceramic shattered. Rasson roared and stumbled back, soap and blood running down his forehead and into his eyes. He doubled over, trying frantically to wipe it away, and Sarah bolted on wobbly legs around him and into the living room. She made it to the hall before he reappeared in front of her, clean and unmarked once more.

"You'll pay for that stunt, Sarah."

She stumbled to a halt. She had to get away, but it was clear that running alone wasn't enough. She needed magic to escape, and she didn't have any of that.

I wish… she started, habit stopping her like usual from finishing. But then she rethought it, because a wish was exactly what she needed right now, more than anything.

To hell with it, she thought.

Straightening, she matched Rasson's arrogant stance. Her suddenly determined expression gave him pause. It was exactly what she needed. Taking a deep breath, she proceeded to shout out her wish, demanding it with every fiber of her being. "I wish I was with Jareth, right now!"

The floor tipped and the last thing she saw was Rasson's furious face before she was swallowed up into that weightless place between worlds. She couldn't stop herself from reaching out as she was cast back. And back, and back. She had never moved so fast, or traveled for so long, and she started to fear that this time she really would be lost when she slammed into some kind of wall.

It lit up where she struck it, a webbed dome of shimmering neon blue that was blinding in contrast to the complete blackness that surrounded it. It crackled and sparked, sending little prickling shocks through Sarah and sending her catapulting back out into nothingness. The moment she was no longer touching it, the light vanished, leaving her blind once more.

She hit solid floor a moment later, momentum forcing her into a painful roll that carried her several feet before she finally came to a rest on her back. Had she made it?

She opened her eyes to the spectacular view of a huge, vaulted ceiling, every inch of it decorated with pieces of gold and emerald in some kind of flowing mosaic abstract. Each piece was unnaturally sparkling, drawing the gaze and holding it, to the extent that Sarah felt like she was falling into some sort of trap just by looking at it.

Or maybe she was just becoming overly paranoid. Still, she averted her eyes, just in case.

She pushed herself up, head buzzing and her skin tingling from whatever magical energy she'd been jolted with when she'd hit that strange wall. Thinking about it, she wondered if it hadn't been some kind of barrier, though why it had been there she couldn't say. She was in a long hallway she didn't recognize; she certainly wasn't in the Labyrinth. The way was too bright and the walls were clean and unfettered with so much as a painting or a lamp.

And not a Goblin King in sight, noted Sarah. She couldn't even feel his magic from here. Had her wish not worked? Or, what if… But she cut the thought off. She refused to believe that Rasson had done something to Jareth. If he had somehow managed the impossible of getting the better of the Goblin King, he definitely would have said something about it. Rasson seemed the type to brag, and taunting her with Jareth's defeat would have been irresistible to him.

Which meant Jareth was fine—but fine where?

Near the end of the hall was a set of giant stone doors, in front of which two men appeared to be in some sort of scuffle. They were both dressed in official-looking outfits complete with tall, matching hats that reminded Sarah of the uniforms worn by the Queen's royal guard in Britain, only in white and heavily bedazzled with precious stones and golden studs. They hadn't noticed her yet.

Sarah got to her feet and hurried over to them. Maybe they could tell her where Jareth was. That is, if she could get their attention long enough to ask them. As she got closer, she realized they weren't struggling with each other, but with three very pissed off looking goblins—her goblins—who were trying their damndest to get by. Did that mean Jareth was inside?

"Is the Goblin King here?" she asked. Both guards glanced over and did double takes.

"How'd you get in here?" demanded the one on the right. "No unauthorized mortals allowed!"

"I need to see the Goblin King immediately," she insisted. "Please let me in."

The left guard nudged his partner in the ribs, still while fighting to keep hold of the thrashing creatures between them. By the way they were only using their hands, Sarah thought they must be mortal men and not Fae. "Hey, Benny. She's that runner they were arguing 'bout earlier," he said in a pointless whisper. Even with his voice pitched low, Sarah was close enough to hear him clearly.

"Is she?" Benny looked her over with curiosity, asking again, directly, "Are you?"

"How should I know?" she said. She couldn't think of a reason for anyone to be arguing about her, although she had to concede that the way her life was going right now, that odds were good. "But I am a Champion Runner," she told them, in case it mattered. Anything that might help her get by.

"Are you?" asked Benny again, and grunted when a tiny goblin foot kicked him in the gut.

"I am," she confirmed. "And Jar—I mean, His Majesty is expecting me, so…" She tried to edge around them, but the left guard threw out a hand to stop her. The action allowed one of the goblins to worm its way free and it fell to the floor with a fart.

"Hold up. No one's allowed inside the chamber until the hearing is over," he told her.

"But it's an emergency!"

"Tough."

Tough? Tough? Sarah tamped down her anger, reminding herself that they were just doing their jobs. Still, her brother's safety was at stake. Rasson could get to Toby in a blink. For all she knew, he had gone back and was stealing him away right now. She couldn't afford to just stand here and wait.

"I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to insist that you let me by," she told them.

"Here that, William?" said Benny. "She's insisting."

William sniggered.

Well, she hadn't expected any different, but at least she'd tried.

With a regretful sigh, Sarah stepped back. She looked at the goblins they were still struggling to restrain, and said in a loud, clear voice, "I wish these goblins would take you far away from me!"

Sarah gave the men credit, they were quick on the uptake. The moment she said the words, their eyes went wide in understanding and they tried to fling the goblins away, but to no avail. The creatures grabbed hold with their captor's clothes with their tiny claws, no longer trying to break free but pulling close instead. The goblin that had fallen hopped onto William's boot with a happy squeal. A second later they all disappeared in a fizzle of magic and the briefest sparkle of glitter, and Sarah was left alone in the hall.

Telling herself that they'd be okay, she hurried up to the oversized doors, grabbed both handles and yanked. The doors glided open on silent hinges, giving no resistance, and Sarah stepped forward cautiously. The moment she was inside, they swung back closed, just as silently.

The room she was in was wide and circular. It was dimmer than in the hallway, but just as beautiful, with clean white walls and a high ceiling decorated with another mosaic, this one in gold and ruby. The floor sloped downwards towards a raised dais in the center of the room, with stone benches circling it in a countless number of rows all the way to the very back walls.

A lone figure stood in the middle of the dais. And though Sarah, strangely, still could not feel his magic even at this close distance, she knew without a doubt it was Jareth.

He looked every inch the Goblin King, with an outfit that was terrifyingly similar to the one he had worn during their final encounter all those years ago, in that broken space between time and worlds. He was dressed all in white, from his tall leather boots to the billowy shirt to the thick feather cloak that was draped about his shoulders. Even his belt, gloves, and vest, buttoned tight, were completely white, without a single piece of jewelry or stud besides his usual necklace to embellish the ensemble. Unlike that encounter, however, this time Sarah was nothing but relieved to see him.

"Jareth!" she called out to him, but, oddly, he didn't look over. Couldn't he hear her? He wasn't ignoring her, was he? He stood with his head tipped back, expression closed up tight. He looked like he was waiting for an answer from the very heavens.

Which is why Sarah jumped about a foot when the heavens actually answered.

They did not sound pleased.

"What you ask for is no small thing, Goblin King," a stern voice said from above. It was sharp and feminine and slightly muffled-sounding, as if Sarah were hearing it through a wall. "And we are not convinced that you have shown proper remorse for your folly yet, either."

Well if they were waiting for him to show remorse over something, they would be waiting a long time, thought Sarah, making her way towards the dais as quickly as she could. Though the rows of benches were evenly spaced, the benches themselves were not, which meant that there was no proper aisle she could go down. It forced her to weave tediously around each and every bench she came to. Wasting energy; wasting time.

"Jareth!" she called again, but again he gave no sign that he could hear her. Instead, he addressed the voice, declaring matter of factly, "I have not done anything you can fault me for since that time. Surely that means something."

"There was that stunt you pulled at Rasson's party," a second disembodied voice pointed out haughtily, this one distinctly male-sounding.

"He was breaking the law," argued Jareth. "Informing him of that fact and then removing the Champion Runner from the proceedings can hardly be called excessive."

So they were arguing about her. It figured. Sarah reached the last line of benches before the dais. She stood directly in front of Jareth now, but when she waved her arms he didn't so much as glance over. Curiouser and curiouser. She sized up the dais. It came to about her waist. There were no stairs that she could see, but with a running start, she felt confident she could make it up.

She backed up as far as space allowed, then sprinted forward. She leapt.

She felt the prickle on her skin a second before blue light flashed and she was thrown back, nearly cracking her head on a bench as she fell. That barrier!

"Perhaps not," the female voice conceded. "But that it was the same runner you had problems with the last time—that we find worrying."

"Coincidence," Jareth replied dismissively. "Nothing more."

Sarah scrambled to her feet and stepped up until she was inches away from the dais. The barrier was back to being invisible. Carefully, she reached out a hand. Maybe if she moved slowly? But the second she made contact, blue light sizzled and she was knocked back a step, her fingers and arm tingling. Damn it! Frustrated, she banged on it with a fist before she could think better of it and the magical force sent her sprawling once more.

"Coincidence, you say?" the female voice asked, sounding amused. Sarah staggered to her feet. Her hair floated about her face in a staticky mess and she shoved a hand through it, making it crackle. Her heart was beating fast and a bit off-rhythm and that was worrying. Clearly, this thing wasn't going to just give way, and she wasn't sure how many more magical shocks she could take. Maybe if she could find something to hit it with? Where was a good magic-smashing bat when you needed one?

"And is it also coincidence," the female voice said, "that she is standing before us now, trying to break into our private court session?"

"Excuse me?" said Jareth.

Abruptly, the barrier shimmered in a downward ripple. Sarah jumped back with a squeak of surprise. Jareth's magic erupted out like water from a broken dam, submerging her for one breath-stealing second before ebbing back and dissipating into its usual inquisitive tendrils. Sarah waved a hand through the invisible wisps of power. This time Jareth noticed the movement, and he finally, finally, looked over at her.

"Sarah?"

"Jareth!"

She launched herself at the dais, forgetting in her haste about needing a running start. She never would have made it, but his magic wrapped around her waist and lifted her just enough for her to scramble up over the edge. The moment she was clear she ran to Jareth.

"Sarah? What are you—" She grabbed his arm, and that was enough to surprise the Goblin King into silence.

"It's Toby," she said. "I mean, it's Rasson. He knows about Toby, me, you, all of it. You have to come with me right now. I have to check on Toby and I need back-up in case Rasson comes—"

"You saw Lord Rasson?"

She nodded. "The jerk appeared right in my apartment."

"Are you all right? He didn't hurt you, did he?" His magic swirled around her, seeking for any sign of injury or hurt. It blew through her hair, messing it up further, and flowed up her sleeves. It found a cut near her ankle, a shallow slice she'd made while shaving that morning, and lingered there. Sarah kicked it away impatiently.

"I'm fine. That's not—"

"Why wasn't I notified?" He looked around, eyes flashing with fury, and she had no doubt that if her goblins had been there he would have bogged them on the spot, excuses be damned.

"They were held up. But it doesn't matter right now. I got away and we need to get to Toby fast in case Rasson decides to do something. He—"

"You are still in dispute with Lord Rasson?" said the female voice. She sounded a lot clearer now.

"So it would seem," replied Jareth dryly, craning his head to look upwards again. Sarah looked up too.

Whoa.

It turned out that the heavenly voices weren't disembodied at all, but coming from a small group of Fae that stood around an upper balcony directly above them. The spot was cleverly hidden by both light and angle so that it was only visible by those standing on the dais. Having them watching from so high above made Sarah feel distinctly looked down upon, both literally and figuratively, which was probably their intention. These Fae were also dressed in white finery, and all of it simplistic but well designed, like Jareth's. Also like Jareth, they all had feathers either sewn into their clothes or sticking out of their hair. Combined with their high vantage point and hard expressions, they reminded Sarah of birds of prey, sizing up a possible meal.

The female Fae leaned farther over the gold railing of the balcony. She was fairly old looking, for a Fae. Sarah could actually see age lines around her eyes and mouth. She pinned Sarah with a look that was just as stern as her voice. "What is this that Lord Rasson has done? Explain yourself, Champion."

"He broke into my home and threatened me. He threatened to take away my brother!"

"You interrupted a royal court session just for that?" another Fae sneered, and Sarah was disgusted to recognize him as one of the men at the party who had asked Rasson about her bedroom stamina. He even still wore that ugly ruffle around his neck. "He could do worse than Lord Rasson for a Keeper. How did you get past the guards?" he demanded.

"I wished them away!" Sarah snapped. Several of the Fae gasped. Even Jareth looked shocked at her admission. But Sarah didn't care; she was too angry. How dare they dismiss her brother's welfare like that! What was wrong with these people, that they could be so heartless about abducting children?

Forget them. You don't need them, she told herself. The only person she needed right now was the man standing next to her. She turned her focus entirely on the Goblin King, who met her gaze but gave away nothing in his expression.

"Please, Jareth." She was still holding onto his arm. The silk of his sleeve was soft under her hand, and she gave a squeeze, silently beseeching him. His gaze shuttered, becoming more closed off than ever. Not the reaction she'd hoped for.

"Be warned, Goblin King," the female Fae put in above. "If you leave this courtroom now we will have no choice but to reject your request. You will also be forfeiting your right to an appeal. There will be no second chance for this."

"Is that so?" said Jareth. His tone was utterly neutral, but Sarah's heart sunk. He wasn't going to come with her. No way. Not if it was going to ruin whatever he was trying to accomplish here. Care about her in his own twisted way he might, but she didn't delude herself about his altruism. His own needs came first. Always.

Withdraw, she told herself. Withdraw before this becomes any more embarrassing than it already is.

"Sarah—" he started, but she shook her head and threw up her hand to make him stop.

"No, it's okay. I understand. Y-you have things to do here and…" And she didn't know what else to say. She felt like an idiot. For relying on Jareth when she should have known better and for wasting so much time when her brother was still out there, in danger, because of her.

She let go of Jareth's arm. The action was stiff and reluctant and she hated herself for being so obvious about her disappointment. To make up for it, she didn't look back as she crossed the dais, keeping her expression as stoic as possible. She didn't let herself so much as pause before she jumped off the edge—

—And straight into Jareth's arms.

"What are you—" She tried to squirm free, more out of surprise in suddenly being held than in a desire to get away, but his grip was solid. She wasn't going anywhere.

He sighed gustily. "Once again you automatically assume the worst of me. Really, Sarah, if you are going to continue to doubt my character the least you could do is give me the chance to prove you wrong. You know how much I enjoy seeing that stunned look of yours when you realize the extent of your stupidity. Yes, that look right there."

Sarah snapped her mouth shut and tried to scowl at him, but hope and happiness were bubbling up and she couldn't hold it for long. "Are you saying… you'll come with me?"

He rolled his eyes. "Must everything be spelled out for you before you understand? Where is your brother now?"

"I-I'm not sure," she stammered. She was having trouble thinking around her shock. Jareth had chosen her. Her. Even if whatever he had come here for today wasn't as big a deal as what these Fae were making it out to be, he was still giving up something that had to be more in his interest than worrying about her brother. It was hardly fathomable. And it meant more to Sarah than she could ever say.

"It's Saturday," she reasoned, "so Toby could be a lot of places. But… I want to check the park first," she told him.

"As you will."

"Goblin King!" They looked back. Off the dais, they could no longer see the other Fae, but their voices rang clear. The unmistakably tenor of the beruffled Fae echoed like an ugly ghost around them. "You insult us with this insolent display! And your actions more than prove our point! Consider your request officially denied!"

"I expected nothing else," said Jareth. He looked down at Sarah. "Ready?"

Reaching up, she wrapped her arms around his neck and held tight. With a solemn nod she said to him, "I'm ready."

Together, they vanished.