Sarah pulled a face. 'I know you mean well, Ali, but - '

Her friend wouldn't listen. 'Picnic. PenArran woods. You, me and a hamper of goodies. Just what you need for your birthday to cheer you up!'

Which was why they were camped out on an old travel blanket in the middle of the woods on a bright summer day, on Sarah's 18th birthday, a battered radio beside them blasting out 'This Ain't The Summer of Love' by Blue Oyster Cult

'Which it isn't,' Alison said, 'Is it?' She pulled her sunglasses down her nose and stared hard at her friend. 'You finally ditched that idiot?'

'Last night. And his name's Carl.'

Alison grinned. 'Was Carl. Now he's history, right?'

Sarah smiled wanly. 'Yeah.'

Alison patted her on the arm. 'Hey. He didn't deserve you anyway. Besides, he's what - twenty-two? Only after one thing if you ask me. So. What's the plan for tonight? Party? Or ice cream?'

Sarah grinned. 'Ice cream. I don't feel like partying.' She hadn't felt like coming out this afternoon either, but Alison would have been hurt if she'd refused. With her mother and Jeremy away on tour with a new play, she was on her own for her Eighteenth birthday - except for Ali. She could perhaps have gone to stay with her father, but after she'd walked out two years ago (one final fight too many with her stepmother, Karen) she'd sworn nothing would make her stay one more night under that roof.

And then there was the pendant.

She fingered the silver owl gently, feeling the delicate casting. It had been on her bedside table this morning when she woke up, in a black velvet case. The note with it had just been a single letter in an elaborate hand. The letter 'J'.

Sarah shrugged. 'Someone I met a few years ago. Briefly.'

'Some 'briefly',' Alison grinned. 'Even in silver, that's an expensive piece. So what gives? Who's the mystery admirer?'

'You just don't give up do you?'

Alison flicked a grape at her. 'Nope. Come on - tall? Handsome.'

'Yes, and very - in a wild sort of way.' Sculptured features, a generous mouth that could compress to a cruel line.

'Dark?'

' Fair.' Almost white blond in some lights, Sarah remembered.

'Eyes?'

'Two of them,' Sarah shot back. They both laughed.

'Silly. Colour? Brown, Blue?'

'One blue, the other hazel - I think.'

'Ooh, weird. Well built?'

'Slender.'

'Age?'

Sarah glared at her. 'What is this, Twenty Questions?' Alison just hummed and looked innocent. 'I don't know.' Truth: anywhere between thirty and a few hundred years, for all she knew. Not that she could tell Ali that.

'Older then?'

'Yes.' Much...

'Profession?'

Goblin King. So there, Sarah thought to herself, with an inward sigh. 'I really couldn't say.' And wasn't that the truth...

A high pitched keening distracted Alison before she could continue her line of questioning.

'Sounds like something's being killed,' Ali remarked. Trying to see if she could locate the source of the noise, Sarah noticed a red-tailed hawk fly out of the trees a short distance away. The keening continued.

'I think it got something.' She stood up and walked to where she could hear the sounds, growing fainter.

Just into the treeline, she found the source: a barn owl, panting its last as she reached it. She knelt by the bird, little more than a bloodstained pile of feathers.

'Jeez, what a mess!' Alison exclaimed, staring down over Sarah's shoulder. Standing, Sarah realised she was shaking.

'I'm going home,' she told Alison. 'Please,' she added, remembering that it was Ali who had the car.

Alison, not normally noted for her tact, took one look at Sarah and said no more. Sarah wasn't squeamish, she knew, but for some reason the sight of the owl had given her friend a real shock.

They drove home in silence.

1. Is Happenstance

Sarah threw the keys onto the phone table when she got back into the house. Two envelopes still lay on the table, unopened. One in her mother's careless scrawl, the other in Karen's neat hand. She stared at them again, trying to work up the enthusiasm to open them, but then sighed and headed for the kitchen instead. Some eighteenth birthday, she thought. Her mother away on tour with her new play, and her father couldn't even be bothered to write out the card himself.

There was probably time to ring round the few friends she did have, and arrange to go out, but rummaging through the fridge for tea, she didn't feel like it. Instead, she settled for Ladyhawke on video and a salad.

And an early night.

She was in the throne room of the Goblin Castle, only this time it was occupied. She picked her way through the squabbling pack of goblins that ran riot in the room. Two female goblins - a skinny red head and a roly-poly one with pigtails, were wrestling on the floor in front of the empty throne, trying to pull each other's heads off by the look of it, Sarah thought.

It took her a few minutes to realise that there was no sound.

She moved through the room like a ghost, avoiding stepping in the rubbish that littered the floor. Drawn almost by instinct through the doorway she'd gone through before. Last time, it had led to the strange room drawn from her memory of the Escher print. This time, it ended at a large open window that overlooked the Goblin City.

He was sitting on the window ledge, looking out over the city. A strong evening breeze whipped his wild fair hair back from a face that held a look that was two parts boredom, one part contemplation. One booted leg rested on the ledge, the other dangled over the side. As she watched, a long gloved hand idly pushed a lock of hair back from his eyes.

In that unguarded, unwatched moment, he looked almost pleasant, she thought with some surprise.

As she watched, he leaned forwards, staring intently at something below. With a soundless oath, he pushed back from the window and ran back down the passage towards her. She jumped back into the shadows before remembering this was only a dream, and he couldn't possibly see her. His face now held a black look she was glad wasn't directed at her.

Curiosity drawing her, she followed.

The throne room was awash with blood. Goblin blood.

She'd always thought the creatures were almost indestructible.

Not anymore. One small scruffy goblin was still moving feebly, and expired as she drew nearer. She shivered. And looked towards the throne.

It was occupied by a red-haired man clad in a dark russet cloak. Surrounding him were six of the largest goblins she'd ever seen - at least six feet tall, she realised with a start. She wrapped her arms around herself for comfort, and looked around for Jareth.

One of the large goblins was dragging him before the man in red. Who cast aside the cloak to reveal a long black sword resting on his lap. Grasping the hilt, he brought the tip to rest against the Goblin King's throat...

Sarah awoke with a cry. Outside, dawn was breaking.

Sarah poked her now soggy muesli with the spoon and stared gloomily into the bowl. The sleepless night hadn't helped her general mood. She sighed heavily, and looked up, staring moodily out of the kitchen window.

Why now...?

It didn't help that she was alone. With her mother away (not that they spent much time together, but still...) and Merlin -

She looked over at the back of the open closet door, where his leash still hung. Even knowing he'd been getting on a bit, it had still hurt. She blinked back the tears, refusing to break. So she was on her own, so what? She was used to it. Her eyes dropped to the phone on the table beside her.

Choices... She didn't have to stay here alone, did she? She picked up the receiver and dialled.

'Alison?'

Just the sight of that owl, she thought before drifting into the realm of dreams, safe in Ali's spare bed that night. That was all. Just a bad dream.

She was underground, somewhere. The dark tunnels dripped with water, and the eye lichen on the walls fluoresced in the faint light from the burning torch she carried. The little eyes kept swivelling to follow her as she passed it, and it hissed at her when she brushed too close. But she ignored it. She was searching for something, wasn't she? She had to find something. Or someone.

The tunnel opened out into a large underground chamber, empty except for a perch in the centre of the room - with a snowy feathered owl on it. She placed the torch in a skull shaped holder on the wall, and walked over to it. The poor thing, she thought, it's injured. Blood stained one wing and its white breast, sticking the soft feathers together.

It had odd coloured eyes, she noticed.

The jesses were chains instead of leather, welded around the perch.

'I can't!' she told the bird, looking at the chains. 'I don't know how!'

Distantly, she heard a clock begin to chime. Risking the bird taking a swipe at her with its beak, she tried to pull the chains free from the perch.

Ten.

Eleven.

Twelve.

Thirteen.

Sarah woke, trembling. Just across the road, the church clock could be heard striking twelve.

Just another dream, she told herself, sinking back onto the pillows. Then in the thin gleam of moonlight falling through a gap in the curtains, she saw the raw grazes on her hands.

As if she'd been pulling at thin chains with her fingers.

The walls were darkened, their otherworldly glimmer replaced by a noxious grey slime that oozed and dripped over the crumbling brick. She was searching for something, but couldn't remember what it was. Left, left and left again, letting the walls guide her. Always heading for the centre. For the castle that reared up above the Labyrinth. A feeling of dread increased the further she went.

The gates to the city finally reared up in front of her, a massive construction of brass and bronze, tarnished, already, she noticed, looking at the rust coloured substance that covered them. Reaching out to touch them, tentatively, she drew her hand back in horror. Blood.

The sense of foreboding grew stronger, as reluctantly, she raised her eyes to look at the top of the wall across the gates, afraid of what she'd see there. His head, white blond hair matted with blood, mismatched eyes wide, staring down at her from the stake -

Sarah awoke with a scream, sitting bolt upright, shaking.

'Jesus, Sarah!' Alison yelled. She flicked the light switch. 'Have quiet nightmares, why don't you.'

'I'm sorry, it was just so - vivid.' Sarah threw back the covers and climbed out of bed. Walking over to the window, she stared into the night. The clock tower opposite their window showed that it was just past midnight.

'It's the third night in a row, ' Alison told her. ' Maybe you should see a counsellor or something?'

Sarah shook her head. 'Three times the charm...' she whispered to herself.

'Huh?'

'Nothing. Just a feeling...' Unthinking, her hand drifted to the necklace that had appeared on her bedside table three mornings ago, on her birthday. A silver owl with outstretched wings, the chain attached to the tips of the wings.

That night, the dreams had started. A feeling of danger, of something coming closer. But nothing to compare to tonight.

'Thinking about your mystery owl admirer?' Alison hazarded.

'Sort of.' She fingered the pendent again. The owl chained... the dead owl in the woods - and the dreams. An omen - or a message? She sighed. After finding the pendant, she'd expected him to appear, but so far there'd been no sign of him. Jareth, the Goblin King.

Except for the dreams. And the feeling that had grown over the last three days that something was dreadfully wrong. Why do I care? she asked herself.

Memories... The look of - regret? When she'd rejected his offer at the end...

'What do you want?' she whispered, clutching the owl pendant. Then gasped. As Alison looked on in surprise, Sarah dressed in a hurry.

'What on earth?' Alison caught her arm 'What are you doing?'

'I've got to go. Now. Ali, can I borrow the car?'

'Sure, you know you can - but where are you going at this time of the night?'

She grabbed the keys and was half way out of the door before she thought to answer Alison's question. 'PenArran Wood.'

Her past had just returned to haunt her.

PenArran Wood wasn't a friendly spot even in daylight. The place was old forest - uncleared, unmanaged. Undergrowth choked any new growth that dared to reach for the sky, and the trees were old. Even the natives had steered clear of the place before the white settlers arrived.

Local historians missed the significance of the name the settlers from England had given the place. PenArran - Pen Arawn, the head of the Lord of the Underworld. Blatant, really. She should have known.

Armed only with the flashlight from the trunk of the car, Sarah made her way hesitantly into the wood. The darkness was so thick, it seemed to even swallow up the torchlight. But the feeling that had driven her out this far was even stronger, almost but not quite overriding her fear.

There was a path of sorts that led through the trees. Giggling lovers sometimes used it - it led to a small clearing about a quarter of a mile from the road. Far enough away from prying eyes, especially at night. Since it was the quickest way into the wood, Sarah stayed on the path, and tried to move quietly.

She'd reached the edge of the clearing when she heard something behind her, moving through the thick undergrowth. It sounded big...She froze, and switched off the torch, trying to slow her breathing down. Just as she'd almost convinced herself that it was probably just another pair of midnight lovers lost in the woods, a hand clamped over her mouth, muffling her startled cry, and an arm encircled her waist, pulling her further back into the bushes.

'Don't make a sound,' a voice cautioned her. 'I killed one, but there's still one out there.'

Over two years past, but she knew that low, cultured voice. His hand moved away from her mouth. 'Jareth?' she whispered. The years rolled forward to yesterday in the space of a heartbeat.

'Ssh.'

In that simple command, a compulsion to obey. She shivered, despite the warm night.

The sounds of movement faded, moving away from them, deeper into the wood - and thankfully, also away from the path to the car. He released her then. Freed from his grip, she turned to try to see his face, but in the darkness, could barely see him. Just a glimmer of fair hair, a pale blur in the faint moonlight that trickled through the trees.

'I suggest we get away from here. I hope you have some transport.'

'Yes, a car - '

He cut her off abruptly. 'Is there somewhere safe we can go?'

'My mother's house,' she said, knowing it was the only place. 'She's away on tour for six months with her new play.'

'Take me,' he ordered. 'But don't use the torch.'

'How am I supposed to see where I'm going?' she whispered back, a little put out at his ordering her like that. She didn't need to be able to see him to picture his feral smile.

'Follow me, I can see perfectly at night.'

'Oh good for you,' she said softly, hoping the sarcasm carried.

'So can my pursuer.' Obviously it had. He took her hand. 'This way, I take it?'

Not until they'd pulled out of the car park and back onto the highway, was she able to get a good look at him. He was in a dreadful state. The figure sitting slumped in the passenger seat was a far cry from the elegant - and arrogant - ruler of the Labyrinth that she remembered. His fair hair was lank and matted. The left side of his face was one large bruise - and the left side of his once fine shirt was soaked in blood, and, judging by the way he was holding his side, still bleeding.

'You're hurt! Maybe I should get you to - '

'No. It's not as bad as it looks. Just get me somewhere safe. I can take care of it then.'

Biting back a tart reply, she realised he was right. She couldn't take him to a hospital, no matter how badly he was hurt. With a sigh, she put her foot to the gas pedal again, daring the speed limit.

Luckily, she'd got her keys with her, and there was room in the second garage for Alison's car. She'd be all morning trying to get the blood off the seat, she thought ruefully. She was able to get her 'guest' into the house through the garage, thankfully without being seen. The last thing she needed was a posse of nosy neighbours coming around to see what was going on.

He made it as far as the lounge before collapsing into a chair. Sarah left him there whilst she hurried to the medicine cabinet in the upstairs bathroom.

He was slumped in the chair when she returned. In the artificial light of the room, he looked even paler than ever, grey hollows under his mismatched eyes - which watched her warily as she walked in and knelt beside him.

'I don't suppose you want to tell me what's going on?' she asked. He didn't reply, just helped her to remove what was left of his shirt. She gasped involuntarily as she saw the cut in his side. Long, deep, and still trickling blood. Thankfully, there didn't seem to be any sign of infection. 'I hope you're not allergic to anything in here?' She held up the box. He shook his head slightly.

'No. Do what you must.'

Hoping she remembered long-ago classes in first aid, she started to clean the wound. He winced occasionally under her ministrations, but made no sound. Not really able to do more than cover it with a waterproof dressing, she hoped it would be all right.

He still hadn't spoken to her except for that one instruction, since they'd arrived at the house.

'That creature in the wood was a hobgoblin.' His voice, after such a long, strained silence, took her by surprise.

'Pardon?'

'You did say you wanted to know what was happening?' His voice had regained a little of the slight mocking edge she remembered.

'I thought you were their King?'

His laugh in response was humourless. 'Hobs are entirely different.' He shifted in his seat uncomfortably. 'Three nights ago the city was stormed and the castle taken. I spent two nights in my own dungeon and another on the run before I could make the crossing.'

Remembering the usual state and lacklustre performance of his goblin guards, somehow Sarah wasn't surprised to find he'd been taken by surprise. The only question she had was by whom?

Dreams... A black sword in stark contrast to white blond hair.

'The man with red hair, in the red cloak?'

'Iorweth. Self styled Lord of the southern wastes.' Jareth's voice dripped loathing - whether at himself for being caught out so easily, or at his foe, she couldn't tell. Probably both. He regarded her then with a watchful look. 'How did you know what he looks like?'

'I think I saw it.' She explained about the three dreams. His face held a thoughtful look. One hand reached towards the pendant, fingering the delicate design.

'I must have crafted this better than I thought,' he muttered.

She wasn't going to ask. Not yet. She settled for another question. 'How did you get away?'

A trace of his cold smile flickered briefly across his face. 'I make it a point never to build a dungeon I can't get out of.' His hand pulled back from the necklace.

'A pity you didn't put as much forethought into not having to,' Sarah retorted before she thought. To her surprise, he laughed - although briefly, wincing again as it pulled at his injury. 'Why come to me?'

'It seemed like a good idea at the time, I need somewhere I can't be found easily,' he replied dryly. 'And no matter how much you may hate me, I didn't believe you would refuse to help.'

'I don't hate you,' Sarah said quietly. She held his mismatched gaze with her own. 'I don't even really know you.'

She hadn't known how true it was until the words were said.

'How true.' Was he reading her mind? He tugged at what was left of his clothing. 'Now, I don't suppose your hospitality extends towards letting me clean up? It seems I'll have to do this the hard way for a day or two.'

'First on the left at the top of the stairs. There should be some of Jeremy's costumes in the wardrobe - you're about the same size.'

He stood up, very slowly and painfully. Watching him move, she realised how horrifyingly weak he was. Sarah moved in to help him but he waved her away. 'I can manage.'

'Suit yourself.' She shrugged, and waited. He got as far as the second stair. Moving in beside him, she offered her shoulder for him to lean on, without a word.

He insisted he could manage once they reached the top. Not convinced, but not too sure she really wanted to push the issue further, she merely bit her lip and watched him make his painful way into her mother's room. Watching him, she got the feeling that only his pride had got him this far. She stared at the bedroom door for a moment, wondering if she should at least offer to help, but then squared her shoulders and walked into her room.

There were no nightmares when she finally slept. Just a memory of dancing, and music - of a song she could almost, but not quite remember.

Morning dawned with the kind of cloudless, vivid blue sky that promised that the day would be a scorcher. Sarah rolled over in bed, blinking sleepily in the bright sunshine that streamed in through a gap in the curtains. Memory, however, came flooding back, scuttling any chance of her ever getting back to sleep.

Jareth. Oh hell.

Her jeans were stained with his blood; not wanting to wear them again, she found a pair of shorts and an old shirt that she tied up above the waist. At least she'd be cool later. Running a brush through her hair, she decided that she looked at least presentable, and went to check on her uninvited guest.

The door to her mother's room was ajar, so she didn't bother to knock. Inside, he was standing in front of the mirror, finishing fastening one of Jeremy's stage shirts. Although he still looked pale, at least he looked better than he had last night.

She'd tried to be quiet, but he turned at her approach.

What do you say to the Goblin King first thing in the morning? Sarah wondered. She settled for a simple 'Good Morning.' There was an awkward, stretched silence.

'Good morning,' he replied eventually. He walked towards her, stopping an arms length away from her. 'You have my thanks. If you hadn't arrived when you did -'

That had cost him to say, she noticed. He didn't seem like the kind of man used to owing anything to anyone. And he was staring at her.

'I -It - it was nothing.' Sarah was suddenly all too aware that by comparison to what he would be used to, she was barely dressed at all - and that he seemed to have noticed, judging by the appraising look that passed over his face as he looked at her. She lounged back against the doorframe as nonchalantly as she could. This was 1989, after all. His problem, not hers. 'You look better.' True enough, the bruising had vanished, and although he moved carefully, he didn't seem to be in as much pain as he had been.

'I heal quickly,' he told her. But looking at him, seeing him for the first time in the daylight of her world, he looked so pale and ill, she doubted it. He'd taken care of the cosmetic damage, that was sure, but she sensed a deeper hurt - and maybe it wasn't just physical.

She'd forgotten just how attractive he was. Even battered and exhausted, there was something intensely compelling about him...

Concentrate on the real world, she told herself. You have things to do.

'I have to take my friend's car back, and pick up some food. Will you...?'

'I can manage. Do what you must.' He turned away from her abruptly, coldly, leaving her wondering what she'd done wrong.

'Right. Well, I won't be long.' She resisted the temptation to slam the door behind her.

Cleaning the car took most of the morning, thankfully. She avoided him for the rest of the day, once she got back from Alison's. (Dodging her friend's questions with a story about a visitor from out of town, gotta go, etc.) It seemed easier, somehow. She got the impression he preferred that himself, since apart from coming down to help himself to dinner, he stayed out of her way. Sarah dragged the swing chair out into the back garden and raided her mother's book collection, although if she was honest, she spent the afternoon and early evening with the book open in front of her, just thinking.

Two and a half years. After all this time, her dreams returned to haunt her, and she didn't have the faintest idea how to deal with it. Fairy tales weren't supposed to walk around in the daylight in New York State.

But since when had fairy tales included the likes of him? She asked herself. She didn't even know what he was, did she? Apart from, she remembered, an arrogant, manipulative bully who'd kidnapped her baby brother, toyed with her, drugged her, tried to seduce her and tried to kill her.

Not necessarily in that order.

And yet. Toby had come to no harm. It had been a dream, hadn't it, so how could he? No, not a dream, she couldn't take that way out. He'd intimidated her, but hadn't hurt her. Moments when she'd seen a smile playing at the corners of his mouth, a genuine interest and amusement, rather than the cruel mask. Dancing with him in that ballroom (don't dwell on that, it was just a dream within a dream...).

Damn him.

Dusk was falling. The full moon that had been hanging like a ghostly shadow of itself in the early evening sky was rising high and bright above the trees. With a sigh, Sarah closed the book and went back in. Time to talk to her guest, she supposed. And this time, get some real answers. What did he want from her?

Right.

Hers was stretched idly in the largest armchair, one leg draped over the arm, flicking through a book lazily. He didn't bother to look up as she came in through the French window, until she coughed.

'Finally decided that you want to talk to me, I presume?' He asked, putting the book down on the side table. She couldn't stop her jaw from dropping. How had he known? His face changed from a look of amused indulgence to a feral smile. He moved lightly and quickly from the chair to her side - not without a wince of pain, she noticed. Prowling around her, he leaned closer than she felt comfortable with. 'You're too predictable, Sarah,' he whispered into her ear. 'Besides, you only turned a page twice in five hours. I doubt even you could be that slow a reader.'

She didn't know what stung more - his insult, or the fact that she couldn't think up a suitably pithy retort. He laughed, and moved away from her, taking up court again in the chair. 'Ask your questions, I'll answer what I can.'

You really enjoy playing with people, don't you? She thought. Well I won't be toyed with. Not this time.

'What do you want?' It came out rather more bluntly than she'd planned.

'My kingdom back, Iorweth's head on a stake. For a start.' It seemed he could be just as blunt.

'Couldn't you just raise a goblin army or something?'

'You've seen them. Frankly, would you risk your neck trying to organise that rabble into something useful?' he sneered.

'Whose fault's that?' Sarah shot back. He glared at her, but this time she could meet it. She tried again. 'What about anyone else? There must be someone you could - '

He shook his head. 'Iorweth moved carefully. There is - you might call it a Covenant, between Lords of the Courts. As long as I am the only one involved, the others will not intervene.'

'That's - ' Sarah began.

'Not fair?' His cold gaze held hers again, before a sly smile briefly touched the corners of his mouth. He couldn't resist a twist, even now.

'Given the powers of most of the Lords of the Courts, sensible.' He continued. 'If somewhat - inconvenient, at this point in time. Tonight I'll make the crossing back to the outer lands. There's an old - friend - I can trust. If Devin got my message, he should be waiting for me.'

'Why tonight?'

His smile was a little more wistful. 'Hoping to see me gone so soon? Why am I not surprised?'

'Stop that,' she snapped. His face was so changeable, she realised, so expressive. She doubted he'd ever needed to hide his emotions. Like now, changing from a studied insolence to a mock innocence.

'Stop what?'

'Baiting me.'

One elegant hand flicked sideways accompanying a faint, fleeting smile. Caught out, it seemed to say. But he said nothing.

She stormed out then and went to her room, slamming the door and throwing herself onto the bed. 'You have no power over me,' she whispered.

And wished she still believed it.

She awoke to a darkness lit only dimly through the heavy curtains by the street lights and the full moon. There was a hand clamped over her mouth, stopping her from crying out.

'Quietly,' A voice whispered in her ear. 'They're here.'

The hand moved away from her mouth.

'Jareth?' Sarah whispered.

'Downstairs,' he replied softly. 'Get dressed. Quietly.' Leaving her side, he walked over to the door, as quietly as a cat.

Finding her clothes in the dark wasn't easy, but somehow she managed.

Joining him at the door, she stood behind him, trying to make out any sounds over and above the beating of her heart and the sound of her breathing - both of which, to her panicked ears, sounded as if they could wake the entire street.

Something very large was moving downstairs, she could hear it. Remembering the half-seen shape in the woods, she shivered. If that was one of the hulking creatures she'd seen in her dream...

Jareth's hand reached out and grasped hers, one squeeze, to reassure her. 'Stay here.' He made to open the door, and she grabbed his arm.

'Can't you just cross over here?' she hissed. The faint moonlight highlighted his pale hair as he shook his head.

'They'll feel it, and they can track me if they know where I've gone through. I have to get rid of them first.' His hand gently caressed the side of her face then, a gesture she hadn't expected, not from him.

'Wait here. You should be safe. I doubt they're interested in you.'

And he was gone, slipping quietly out onto the landing, leaving her pressed back against the wall, wondering what she was supposed to do next. She couldn't just let him face one of those things alone, could she? He was hurt, and he was tired, despite his bravado. 'He's an arrogant, insensitive, cruel, vindictive, manipulative bastard,' she told herself as she slipped out of the bedroom. It didn't help. She sighed. I have to help him...

She stopped at the top of the stairs, listening. She could hear the creatures moving - in the dining room now. Jareth's head was just vanishing around the corner of the hallway. A low growl made her pause near the foot of the stairs. Swallowing hard, she made a dash for the kitchen as quietly as she could. From the dining room, she could hear the furniture being knocked over, sounds of a struggle. The room was illuminated by the streetlight, giving her enough light to see by. Scrabbling in a drawer as quietly as she could, she managed to get her hands on a knife - just as the door crashed open, and a huge misshapen figure burst into the room, advancing on her with a blood curdling growl.

She hadn't thought anything so big could move so fast. It was on her before she even had time to scream - she felt hot, foetid breath on her cheek, and cringed, expecting to feel either its teeth or claws in her flesh- only to feel something hot and warm running over her hand, and the knife she didn't even remember holding pulled out of her grasp as the creature slumped to the ground.

Jareth was at her side, pulling her away. The other creature was a heap on the floor in the dining room, she noticed dimly.

'I didn't even touch it' she said, stunned.

'The knife was steel - enough iron to kill it,' he replied tersely. 'Luckily for you. Just what did you think you were doing?' She could hear the restrained anger in his tone, read it in the tight lines of his face, before he sighed. And something else - concern? 'Never mind, what's done is done.' She didn't catch what he muttered under his breath, but there was no mistaking an expletive.

She followed him into the dining room. 'What do you mean, 'what's done is done?''

He turned on her, and she took an involuntary step back. It seemed the night had given him back some of his mystery, the sense of menace that had surrounded him the first time he'd appeared in her life. And then in the space of a heartbeat, it subsided, replaced with an almost weary look. A hand touched hers briefly, and she was clean, the warm, sticky goblin blood gone.

'You just killed one of Iorweth's pets. He won't take that lightly.'

Sarah glared at him - possibly a wasted effort in the semi-darkness. 'Why would he think that you didn't kill it?'

'Iron is deadly to me as well.' He pushed her back out of his way. 'Now if you don't mind...'

A faint glow appeared over his shoulder. 'Time to leave,' he said, walked backward, and vanished. Caught by surprise, she barely had time to register that he'd gone, before a hand came out of nowhere and yanked her forwards.

Sarah stumbled after Jareth, almost bumping into his back as he stopped abruptly on the other side of the -

The French window was gone, as was the night. Above, the sky had a familiar, rosy glow as the sun rose slowly overhead. She was standing just outside the eaves of a wood, Jareth next to her, (now clad in a familiar asymmetric brown leather coat and grey breeches, she noted; his hair once again taking on a life of its own, spiked and slightly shimmering.) Appearance before practicality, she guessed. It was probably an instinct, the way a cat will obsessively wash when already perfectly clean.

One of his crystals appeared in a now gloved hand, and hovered for a moment before floating off into the woods.

'Now what?' Sarah asked. Suddenly feeling very, very lost. She sank to the ground, not caring that her jeans were getting damp with dew from the grass. Looking around, she couldn't see a single familiar feature from her last visit. This was a bright meadow, highlighted with that faint glitter that seemed to cover everything here. There was no sign of the labyrinth, or the castle that had dominated the valley it filled.

'We're a good distance away from there,' Jareth said, as if reading her thoughts. 'Even as the owl flies, it's a week's journey.' He sat down beside her, look of genuine concern on his finely drawn features as his hand lifted her chin so that he could look into her eyes. 'Now, Sarah, what am I supposed to do with you?'

'Can't you send me back?' Her voice almost broke halfway through the sentence, and she hated herself for it. You're eighteen, not fifteen. You don't break down, not now.

'I can't, I'm afraid. I daren't leave you there unguarded, not now that Iorweth knows I went to you for help. Besides, I'd be hard pressed to conjure a breeze at the moment, let alone make another crossing.' He sounded genuinely regretful. Well he would, he's got himself stuck with you...

He had no reason to care about what happened to her, she knew. What if he just left her here?

'I'm going to have to take you with me,' he sighed. 'And that will slow me down considerably.'

'You came to me for help, remember?' she pointed out. 'You dragged me through after you.' Then the tension of last few days seemed to crash down on her all at once, and before she could stop herself, she was crying. Trying to swallow the sobs only gave her hiccups. She didn't notice the point where his arm went around her, just holding her lightly, and offering a shoulder to cry on.

She pulled away eventually, feeling a little embarrassed, and extremely puffy eyed. Without making a single comment, he conjured one of his crystals - flicking it with practised ease; as it disintegrated, it produced a large white handkerchief, which he presented with a restrained flourish. Despite everything, it raised a laugh. 'I don't think I'll ever come close to understanding you,' she said in between blows.

A look of ghostly amusement flickered across his face, so swiftly, she wasn't sure it had really been there. 'Not,' he told her, 'While you persist in trying to judge me by mortal standards.' Standing, he offered her a gloved hand, and helped her to her feet. 'Time to go. I brought us through too far to the east, and Devin won't wait forever.'

***

Iorweth stared around the throne room of the Goblin Castle with undisguised disdain. 'You'd think that someone with Jareth's legendary attention to detail would keep things a bit tidier, wouldn't you?' he asked. Calion, his Fae-born Second found himself a reasonably clean area and sat on the edge of the pit in front of the throne, flicking the corner of his cloak away from a stray piece of goblin with a sigh of irritation.

'We've cleared most of the vermin from the castle. They're confined to the city for now.' A gauntleted hand brushed the bloodstained stonework. 'Personally, I'd just tear it down and rebuild.' He sniffed.

Iorweth chuckled. 'Patience. The game is only just beginning. Speaking of which, what has happened to our pawn?'

'Crossed to the outer world. I sent two hobs after him - he hasn't lost his touch, one of them was a mess.' Calion looked at his lord, who lounged in the throne, one hand toying with a lock of red hair.

'I do hope you cleared up after him? It's so inconvenient when mortals find these things.' Iorweth leaned forward in the throne. 'The other?'

'Stabbed. Obviously the work of a mortal. The knife was steel - ' Calion grinned savagely 'A mortal woman - little more than a girl, really.'

'And Jareth?'

'Crossed back earlier this morning, somewhere beyond the High Hills. He had the mortal girl with him'

Iorweth leaned back, a slow, feral smile spreading across his face. 'He'll run to the Dreamweaver.' He jumped to his feet in a single powerful move. 'How predictable. Leave him for now, he'll be back before too long. He doesn't have much of a choice. We've work to do here before then. I'd so hate not to have a welcome ready for him when he tries to retake his kingdom.' He knelt down beside Calion. 'Keep Jareth's verminous little minions locked up in that city for now. If they give you any problems, kill a few of them. Even goblins can understand that message.'

'And you?' Calion asked his lord.

Iorweth's answering smile was cold. 'With its master gone, the Labyrinth is - shall we say 'open to suggestions'. I have a gameboard to prepare. A pity there's still one thing lacking for that perfect touch.' He sighed theatrically.

Calion raised an elegant eyebrow.

'Bait,' said Iorweth.

***

By midday, Sarah's only consolation was that Jareth was finding the walk almost as tough as she was. Struggling up yet another hill in his wake, she'd seen him put a hand down to steady himself more than once.

Proud and stubborn. Would it kill you to admit you needed to rest? She thought at his back. Well there were ways around that.

At the top of the next hill, she flopped to the ground. 'That's it, I need a rest,' she told him. She didn't have to feign the exhausted note in her voice - they'd been walking for hours. Her feet and legs ached, and she was, she realised, as her stomach rumbled audibly, starving.

'Just for a short time,' he said, sitting down a few feet away. 'Hungry?'

Sarah nodded. A crystal appeared in his left hand, which he tossed to her. She caught it awkwardly and stared at the peach nestling in the palm of her hand. 'Very funny,' she said, rather more acidly than she'd planned.

His face was a study in innocence, until he turned away from her to conjure another globe, a larger one this time, and she saw the corner of his mouth twitch. Very deliberately, she took a large bite from the fruit. It was fresh, ripe, and perfect.

'You have to trust me sometime,' he said in a low voice. 'I don't understand why you think I'd want to harm you.'

She wiped peach juice off her chin, almost choking on the fruit. 'After the last time?'

'That was then. I'm not your enemy Sarah.' His voice held an almost resigned note. 'Or is it that you're more comfortable with me cast in the role of a villain?'

That hit uncomfortably close to how she felt. 'Why not?' she shot back, defensively, 'After all, you took my brother.'

He helped himself to an apple from the basket he'd conjured between them. 'At your request.'

'Dropped me into a dungeon.'

'An oubliette. And you fell into that all by yourself.' He polished the apple on his sleeve. 'You can't blame me if you don't look where you're going.'

'Cheated on the rules by speeding up time!' She'd raised her voice now - after bottling it up for so long, it actually felt quite good to be able to get it out into the open...

'True. I did.' Couldn't he at least sound a little bit repentant?

'Tried to kill me by sending that machine after us.'

'Ah,' he pointed a finger at her. 'But you did get away.'

'Only because the door gave way!'

He just bit into the apple, saying nothing, but that slightly smug smile hovered at the corners of his mouth again.

'And the drugged peach?' she glared at him, daring him to reply.

'Now that,' he said, tossing the apple core over one shoulder, 'was a miscalculation. How did you enjoy the ball?' he asked, meeting her eyes again.

She flushed. 'How much did you?' she asked, trying to regain her composure. To her surprise, he looked away, and straightened his gloves. 'And setting your guards on us in the city,' she said, changing the subject quickly.

'They had orders to stop you, not to kill you.' A nonchalant shrug. 'Although they're such terrible shots they might have killed you by accident.'

She stared at him open mouthed. 'Why, you - '

He threw back his head and laughed, and she looked on, perplexed.

'Sarah, you were in no real danger. The object was to discourage you, not to kill you. If I'd wanted you dead I could have done it several times over.' He leaned forward. 'While we're on the subject of who did what to whom, I could lay a few accusations of my own at your door.'

'Such as?' she challenged.

'Blackmailing my gardener - persuading him to betray me. Causing havoc at the ball I sent you by breaking the translocation spell - and how you managed that I'll never know.' He paused. 'Oh, and how about destroying my guardian on the city gates and causing immense amounts of damage to the city with the help of that hairy, rock-singing walking hearth rug?'

'Ludo.' she snapped at him. But the name brought something to mind she'd forgotten. Sarah suddenly realised - she'd never asked about her friends back in the Labyrinth. 'Hoggle... and Didymus... and Ludo. What will happen to them?'

'I was wondering when you'd think about them.' His mismatched eyes searched hers - looking for what, she wasn't sure. 'I really couldn't say. It depends on whether or not they get in Iorweth's way. If he has no use for them -'

Sarah stood up, stretching her legs. Looking from the hill over the plain they'd crossed, she shivered.

'This is a nightmare,' she whispered.

'It's not even close.' Jareth's voice whispered near her ear, his face only inches from hers, making her jump.

She turned her head until she was staring him in the face - so close, she could have just leant forward and kissed him. Now where did that come from? Seen so close, his features didn't have a single flaw - so sharply beautiful. Only those odd-coloured eyes were less than perfect and that in a way just enhanced the rest. She flushed. 'I'm trapped here, I can't go home, my friends are probably in danger - how could it get worse?'

'No-one's died yet.' Jareth said darkly.

A shadow passed overhead before she could reply, causing both of them to look up. A large black feathered hawk was circling them. As Sarah watched, it dived lower, heading straight for them. Seeing that Jareth didn't flinch, she held her ground - barely.

Six feet from the ground, with no warning, the hawk was gone - and standing in its place was a tall young man in a long black coat. Shoulder length black hair curled at his collar. Piercing grey eyes took in both Sarah and Jareth, and a narrow-lipped but generous mouth, partially masked by a neatly trimmed full beard, smiled.

'Do you have any idea how hard you are to track down?' The new arrival took three long strides forward and clasped Jareth's arm. 'Two days I've waited for you.' He looked Jareth up and down. 'No offence, but you look awful. Who's the lovely young woman with you?' The smile he turned on Sarah was dazzling. 'Never mind, tell me later. I've got the horses about a mile that way.' He started walking down the hill. Halfway down he turned, realising that he wasn't being followed. 'Well come along, I haven't got all day!'

Sarah turned a stunned look on Jareth, who took her arm and led her after the stranger. He was quite obviously fighting to hide a smile - yet another mercurial mood change. Sarah was finding it harder to keep up.

'That's your friend?' she whispered. He smiled - for once a genuine grin that reached his eyes.

'Devin. Often called Dreamweaver. And yes, before you ask, he's always like that.'

'I heard that!' Devin's voice floated back up to them. Sarah caught Jareth's eye, and suddenly they were both laughing.

Devin had brought two horses to his rendezvous with Jareth: Arabians - both beautiful, and very good-natured. Sarah stroked the nose of the chestnut mare whilst Devin tended Jareth's wounds. The grey gelding kept nuzzling her so she fussed him as well. She also tried to eavesdrop on the conversation - without much success. The two had been deep in a muttered exchange for over half an hour now.

Devin watched the girl out of the corner of one eye whilst finishing healing Jareth's side. 'There, you'll do for now. You were lucky Calion didn't have more time with you.' He turned his attention in full to the girl, who was trying to look uninterested in their conversation - unsuccessfully. 'She's really quite lovely.'

'She's also stubborn and spoilt.' Jareth said dismissively, and refastened his coat.

'Oh, well then,' Devin teased, 'you're well matched.' He raised a hand to stave off Jareth's retort. 'Don't take it out on me. I'm not feeling generous enough to be your emotional punch bag.' He nodded in Sarah's direction. 'You plan to take her instead of riding with me?'

'I have to. You can't translocate two people, and I'm not yet strong enough. It took more out of me making those crossings than I thought.'

Devin's face held only concern. 'Jareth - ' he caught Jareth's sleeve as his friend stood. 'I really hope you know what you're doing. I'll gladly give you any help I can, but your plan - '

' Gives me my only chance. I know Iorweth of old. He has to be in control. It's the only weakness he has. It's just over three weeks until the full moon. More than enough time for him to try to control the Labyrinth.'

Devin shook his head. 'You risk losing it completely, if you're wrong. And dragging a mortal along -'

'She only has to come along as far as your demesne. She can stay there until it's over. I'm sure you can find someone to send her home if I don't survive.' Jareth's eyes were fixed on the girl, watching her move around the horses.

'And if Iorweth or that little psychopath he lets off the leash occasionally decide not to wait until you come to them? He's got plenty of time to pick you off if he wants to.'

Jareth's voice was cold. 'He won't. It's not the way he plays. ' To Devin, he looked as if he was trying to persuade himself of that. Now, however, was not the time or the place to pursue the issue. There was also, Devin thought, the matter of the girl. But that, again, would have to wait.

'You'd better be right, my friend.' Devin sighed. 'I'd better send you two on your way. It's getting late - and I so hate flying at night.'

***

The hobgoblin patrol passed by the ornate urn, not stopping to check it. Which was fortunate, as it currently occupied by two of the non-goblin inhabitants of the Labyrinth, who didn't want to be found.

'Have they gone yet, Sir Hoggle?' A sharp little voice asked.

Tentatively, a large head with a leather cap on it peered over the rim of the urn. The courtyard, as far as the head's owner could tell, was clear. 'They've gone.' Hoggle hauled himself out of the urn, and gave his companion a helping hand. Didymus shook out his brush and straightened his rapier.

'I have to say, Sir Hoggle, this does not bode well. Strange things are afoot in the Labyrinth, mark my words.' He tidied his whiskers.

'Hobgoblins in the labyrinth, and in the city. And I've not seen a goblin for days.' Hoggle shook his head. 'Something's up, and no mistake.'

'I heard that His Majesty has disappeared,' said Didymus. 'He hasn't been seen since the before the night of the full moon, or so I heard from the Sage.'

'And good riddance,' said Hoggle. 'Jareth is a bully. I can't think of many people around here who'll miss him.'

The little fox sighed. 'My dear Hoggle, there are worse rulers to have than Jareth. I don't like the look of these hobgoblins in the slightest. Think on what their master would be like!'

'Which is why I'm getting out of here,' said Hoggle. 'And if you've got any sense, you'll do the same.'

'I'm afraid this time I have to concur with you, my friend. Maybe if we regroup outside and marshal our forces - ' Didymus saw Hoggle's totally unconvinced look, and decided to let the matter lie. 'As you say. Exit first, tactics later.' As he followed the dwarf's waddling form out of the hedge-bordered courtyard, he sighed heavily. 'I just wish I knew where Ambrosius was...'

Neither of them saw the light coloured wolf that watched them with golden eyes from behind the shrubbery. When the odd pair were out of sight, the space it occupied shimmered and was suddenly filled by the lean form of Calion. With a grim smile, the Sidhe faded out of that location. He knew exactly where the pair were heading. And planned to be there before them.

***

Sarah tried to feign disinterest as Jareth and Devin approached. Whatever they'd been discussing - probably what to do with a useless American teenager - they'd obviously come to a decision. Devin, she thought, didn't look too pleased, whatever it was.

It was Jareth who addressed her. 'I hope you can ride?' He untied the chestnut and took the reins. Well that lost her that little bet- she'd thought the grey was his...Sarah untied the grey, checked the girth and placing a foot in the stirrup, swung easily into the saddle. Hoping that the year and a half since she'd last been on a horse hadn't cost her too dearly in terms of skill, she nudged the grey into a trot across the clearing and back, finishing with a neat turn on the forehand and a rein back.

'Does that answer your question?' She patted the grey. He really was very responsive. Jareth didn't reply.

Devin strolled over and stood by her side 'His name's Ghairlean.' He patted the gelding. 'He's rather a favourite - '

'I'll be careful with him,' Sarah promised. To the other side of her, Jareth vaulted lightly onto the back of the chestnut, which pranced excitedly, before being brought back under control. He'd hardly had to touch the mare, Sarah noticed. Seeing the way he sat the little mare so lightly, she felt like a sack of potatoes by comparison.

'Try not to get into too much trouble?' Devin said to Jareth, with a sly wink at Sarah.

'Two days,' Jareth replied. 'Assuming we don't have any problems.'

Feeling more than a little left out, Sarah looked from one to the other. 'I don't suppose anyone wants to tell me what's supposed to be going on?'

'I'll explain later,' Jareth said, a little shortly, she thought. Devin gave him a sharp look, and took pity on her.

'You're going to my demesne,' he told her. 'By land I'm afraid, for various reasons. I'm sure Jareth will be happy to explain...'

'I'll settle,' Jareth said, turning the mare to face them, 'For getting both her and myself there in one piece. Two days, Devin.'

Devin bowed, very slightly. 'Good speed.' And he was gone, the dark hawk spiralling upwards and away from them.

'Shall we?' Jareth said. Sarah nudged the grey into a walk and they followed the chestnut mare out of the tiny copse, and down to a dirt road.

***

Hoggle and Didymus reached the huge gates to the Labyrinth without incident, although the ways had been strangely twisted. Didymus, less familiar with the outer regions of the Labyrinth, had felt a strange chill growing as they progressed - a feeling that something was looming behind them, creeping outwards from the centre. Hoggle, far more a part of the outer maze, was more attuned to its vagaries.

'Something's changin'' he said, shivering. He didn't like it one little bit, and had never been more pleased to see the great carved wooden gates.

'How perceptive.' Calion appeared out of thin air in front of the gates, and stared down at the dwarf. 'Now, how about giving me some answers on another matter?' Hoggle tried to run but was suddenly surrounded by hobgoblins. Very large, very hungry looking hobgoblins. With a gulp, he stood his ground. Didymus, as ever, was less easily intimidated.

'Have at you sir!' he cried, charging the Sidhe, rapier drawn. With contemptuous ease, Calion fended off the attack, picking up the fox with one hand by the brush and shaking him.

'And what have we here? One of Jareth's valiant knights?' The hobgoblins laughed. Didymus snarled and tried to wriggle free, but Calion's grip was firm. Deftly, he disarmed the little creature. 'Now then, maybe one of you would like to tell me who this is?'

In front of him, an image formed: Jareth walking with a young brunette girl, somewhere in the outer lands.

'Lady Sarah!' Didymus gasped in surprise, before he thought. 'Oh dear.' His whiskers drooped. Hoggle hung his head.

'Well well,' Calion knelt beside Hoggle, still holding Didymus at arms length, ignoring the knight's efforts to bite him. 'So she is known to someone here. I think one of you is going to tell me all about her.' His gaze went from the trembling dwarf to the snapping fox. 'Hold this,' he told one of the hobs, handing it the fox. 'Don't eat it - yet.' His hand shot forward and grabbed Hoggle by the throat. 'I might need it if this one won't talk.'

***

By the time the sun was sinking low in the sky, casting the now familiar orange/rose glow over the land, Sarah was wishing she'd never seen a horse. Riding in school or on a hack once or twice a week hadn't prepared her for the agony of sitting on a saddle for hours at a time, over unfamiliar country. The landscape kept changing with almost every rise in the land. From farmland, to open meadow, to occasional scrub moorland. The juxtaposition of the mundane and the surreal was disconcerting, and was making her feel queasy.

Jareth finally reined in his horse at the foot of a chalky hill. The exposed rock at the base formed a natural overhang, and a narrow stream trickled nearby. Sarah, concentrating on her misery, almost rode into the back of the little chestnut, causing her to kick out at the grey.

'Sorry,' she mumbled. Jareth ignored her, jumped down lightly and began untacking the mare. Sarah took her feet out of the stirrups, glad she'd at least put ankle boots on when dressing in a hurry. Unfortunately her jeans hadn't been such a good idea - the inner seam had started to chafe her calf on her left leg. She swung her legs a little, trying to unstiffen them enough to risk jumping down. Although the grey was only about fifteen hands, all of a sudden it looked like a long way to the ground.

'Just let go.' Jareth was at her side, one hand on Ghairlean's sweat darkened neck. He reached out a hand. 'I'll catch you.' Sarah searched his face for a sign of his mocking smile, but his eyes held only concern. Deciding that pride could take a back seat for a while, she let him help her down, sliding off in a rather undignified manner, with only his arms keeping her from stumbling as her feet hit the floor. With his help, she limped over to the overhang, cursing muscles that she hadn't even known she had.

It was, she thought miserably, going to be a very long night.

Iorweth had found a large open window that overlooked the Goblin City, and was examining his handiwork when Calion returned. The Labyrinth stretched out beyond the walls of the city, filling the entire valley. The outer regions of the maze still held the glamour of its previous master, but spreading out in an ever widening circle from the castle, the Labyrinth now had a cold, dark air clinging to its walls and hedges. Nothing yet that anyone could tangibly perceive, but beneath the threshold of perception, the damage was begun. Iorweth smiled. The work was hard: the Labyrinth did not move easily to a new pattern, and keeping it bound to his will had proved less easy than he'd imagined.

Centuries of the indifferent neglect of its ruler, he thought. It had been allowed to run along in its own chaotic fashion for too long. But it could be controlled.

All he needed was time.

Behind him, he heard Calion clear his throat.

'Yes?' he asked, without turning.

'I have some information,' his second said. Iorweth didn't miss the satisfied tone in his second's voice.

'I trust you had some amusement getting it?' he asked.

'Not overly much. The subject didn't put up much of a struggle. Although more than I gave it credit for.'

'Jareth's dwarf,' Iorweth stated. He heard Calion's intake of breath. Well, it did him good to realise that his lord had other resources, from time to time. Calion, on occasion, was far too sure of his position.

So much so, he often forgot that Iorweth was only fond of secrets when he held them. He wasn't a man who tolerated them in his subordinates. 'Well?' One careless hand gestured to Calion to continue. Clearing his throat again, the Sidhe did so.

'The girl with Jareth - the mortal? It seems she's been in the land before. She's the one who solved the Labyrinth... and left your esteemed peer with his pride on the floor.'

'Well now. That makes things a little more interesting.' Iorweth finally turned to face Calion. 'Keep watch over them. Discretely. Maybe she could be an interesting piece to add to the board after all.'

He turned his attention back to the City below, as the sun sank slowly behind the hills. Sensing his dismissal, Calion bowed low and left.

***

Sarah sat in isolated misery, trying to ease the aches in her overworked muscles, whilst Jareth saw to the horses. Helpless, pathetic girl she told herself angrily. You don't do the damsel in distress routine.

Lost in trying to rub some semblance of life back into her legs, she didn't see Jareth until he threw the packs down beside her. 'Try walking.' He held out a hand to help her up. She glared up at him stubbornly

'It hurts to sit down, never mind stand up and move.'

Without warning he simply reached down and hauled her to her feet.

'OW!' She glared at him.

'I'm not a healer, and if you let yourself stiffen up, you'll be lucky to be able to crawl tomorrow, let alone ride. Now are you going to move, or do I have to make you?'

'If you're going to tell me you have my best interests at heart - '

'Actually, yes.' A pause. 'Any questions?' Even in the failing light she could make out that mocking smile again.

'I sometimes think you're enjoying baiting me,' she snapped, letting him lead her around, and trying not to wince every time she took a step. How come fantasy writers never put in how painful riding across country for hours on end is?

'Not,' he replied dryly, 'when you make it this easy.'

She stumbled then on the uneven ground, and he was there again, catching her before she fell. She fetched up with one arm around his waist holding on for dear life, with his arms around her and her face almost resting in his hair. He's not as tall as I keep thinking he is, she thought. Then, incongruously: I must look awful. She looked into his face, to find him staring at her. In the fading light, his left eye now looked brown. Unreadable, his expression, as he helped her recover her balance. Except as they pulled away from each other - what? Regret?

Get a grip, she told herself, watching him sort out the camp for the night. You're spending at least two nights out in the open with a (much) older man (scratch that... whatever he was. Fae? Sidhe? Whatever...) You aren't looking to get involved... that's why you broke up with Carl... One reason, anyway.

Memories... Only fear me, love me... She'd rejected him before... I ask for so little... for Toby, I had to... She clutched the owl pendant that she still wore around her neck and blinked back sudden tears. Why did everything have to be so complicated?

***

She was moving through a great hall filled with people, all of them in glorious costume: an Eighteenth century ball, all the attendees wearing masks. Some simple dominoes, others elaborate constructions of feather, brocade, carved bone, or fine porcelain. One man leered at her from under Pantalonne's unmistakable visage. She shivered and backed away. She was looking for someone...

A glimpse of blue, of fair hair... it kept shifting through the milling dancers, and she was struggling to keep up. Finally, the crowd parted, and she was standing in front of a masked figure: a dark coloured full-face mask, horned, held in one hand. The stick finished at the mask end with a skeletal hand.

The mask moved away from the face, revealing not the image she'd expected, but another. A red-haired man, who smiled coldly at her.

'Is this what you're looking for?' His arm was outstretched towards her. Held firmly in his fist were fine chains, fastened like jesses to clawed feet.

Sitting on his arm was a large snowy owl. As she watched, still too shocked to move, his free hand gestured, and a small knife appeared in it. 'You don't have the wit to solve it.' A shadow passed overhead as he spoke. When she looked up, the ceiling was replaced by a night sky, a full moon shining down. Looking back to the man, she watched in horror as his hand plunged the knife into the owl's breast. 'Such a pity...' he whispered coldly. And she was standing on a worn flagstone floor, with the ruins of a castle behind her, pale feathers falling, falling from the sky through her outstretched hands...

Sarah awoke with a cry, and sat up, hugging her knees. It was still night, the waning moon already sinking lower in the sky. So vivid - but just a dream. She shivered. And nearly screamed when a hand touched her shoulder.

'Another dream?' Jareth's soft voice. She nodded, before remembering that it was dark, and tried to find her own.

'Yes.'

'Tell me.'

After she'd related it, he was silent. 'Well?' she asked.

'I don't know. Dreams are Devin's area of expertise, not mine. And certainly not Iorweth's, so he can't be sending them.'

'They're scaring me,' she whispered. She clutched the owl pendant tightly. 'They started the day I got this. Are you sure you didn't...'

'There are spells bound into it, but nothing that would cause this.' His hand closed over hers. For once, it was ungloved. The touch of his skin on hers was electric. 'Don't remove it. Believe me, there is nothing bound to this that could harm you.' His fingers gently prised hers away from the pendant. 'It's warded for protection, and a little magic. Nothing more.'

'Now where have I heard that before?' Sarah asked, rather more lightly than she felt. He chuckled. Her fingers were still entangled in his, yet she didn't feel like moving them. The dream had left her feeling more shaken than she wanted to admit. Jareth's free hand pulled the blanket back around her shoulders, and she felt him move closer, offering his shoulder as a pillow. She hesitated, and again that unreadable expression flickered across his features, highlighted by the moonlight.

'You can trust me.' His voice low, gentle, no mockery or threat. Or was there a hint of a challenge in his manner, as if daring her to refuse? Caught between uncertain dreams and the unfriendly night, at least he offered a haven, of sorts. She moved closer, accepting the embrace. His arm curled loosely around hers as she laid her head on his shoulder, staring at the starry sky, waiting for dawn and thinking that sleep would be a long time coming.

***

Jareth was still awake when dawn finally came, the sun rising above the tree line, casting its orange glow over the sky and reflecting a reassuringly familiar rosy glow from the glitter-strewn grass. Shifting slightly so as not to disturb the sleeping girl, he winced as the wound in his side pulled. Devin's ministrations had almost healed it, but he was still far from being at full strength. With luck, that would not be tested in the next day or so before they reached Devin's demesne.

Sarah stirred, and he let her settle again. There was no point in waking the girl just yet. He'd let her sleep while she could.

And try to guard her dreams.

More than anything else about the last few days, they troubled him. Twice now she'd dreamed his death.

Wishful thinking?

No, he thought, looking down at her. There was a hard streak in her - buried under a soft sheltered upbringing, but there, beneath the surface just the same. But no malice. Not of that level. And the dreams distressed her, that much was obvious.

Yet they'd also served as a warning. Because of them, she'd been there, at the right time and place, open to his call for help.

A mystery, and he didn't like mysteries. Not unless he was the one setting them.

A half smile played over his face as he watched her sleeping. So lovely... the soft lines of childhood had gone from her face, leaving it with a bone-deep, structured beauty. She'd been lovely at fifteen. At eighteen, cleaned up, she would be breathtaking.

Forget about the girl, he told himself. There's too much at stake. Besides, she rejected you.

He'd gambled on keeping both her and the child. And lost.

He drew his free leg up until he could rest his elbow on his knee, hand resting against his mouth, contemplating past and future, waiting for Sarah to awaken.

***

'Are there any towns or cities here?' Sarah asked, nudging Ghairlean into a trot to catch up with Jareth. She tried not to wince as the little grey's bouncy stride elicited a protest from her over-used muscles. She'd slept, eventually, curled up against Jareth's shoulder, but she felt little better for it. An early start and several more hours in the saddle had only added to her misery.

'Not in this region. This used to be Goblin territory until about three hundred and fifty years ago. Settlements tend to be a little few and far between.'

'So,' Sarah decided that finding out a little bit about this place couldn't hurt, and he seemed talkative for the first time all morning, 'Where is everyone? I mean, it's not just Goblins, is it?' If nothing else, it would take her mind off travelling...

'Most of the major Sidhe and human settlements are to the south and west. There are only three cities left: Finial on the plains, Hy Breasil in the mountains and Murias on the coast. Out here - ' He gestured to take in the changeable landscape, 'there are some human and Sidhe run farms and villages, but they are few.'

'So what happened? I mean, to the goblins? Are they only in the Labyrinth now?'

He gave her a sideways look. 'You're curious all of a sudden.'

'It takes my mind off how much this hurts.' She grinned. 'Besides, you're right. I am curious.'

He sighed heavily. 'Don't expect a full history of relations between the various Fae from me, it would take forever to explain it. Suffice it to say that there were wars, and the goblins lost. In the last one, they were almost wiped out, although enough remain to be a nuisance, and their numbers have a tendency to increase rapidly.'

'But you're not a goblin?'

That earned her a withering look. 'Do I look like a goblin?' he said testily. Sarah bit back a grin. Another heavy sigh. 'Mortals! No, I'm not. I'm of the Leannan Sidhe. Not an elf, not a fairy, not a pixie, or a goblin.'

Touchy... 'So why are you their king...'? Sarah began. Abruptly he reined in his mare.

'We'll stop here for a while, the horses can water at the stream over there.' He pointed.

Doesn't want to talk about why he's ruling the goblins? Sarah wondered. More questions... She opened her mouth t speak again when he held up his hand, forestalling anything she might have said. The little chestnut side-stepped neatly over to the side of Sarah's grey, and Jareth leaned over.

'Say nothing, just dismount and wait here,' he said quietly. When Sarah began to ask, his hand raised again. 'Silence. I think we're being followed.'

She dismounted, stiffly, and handed Ghairlean's reins to him. 'Who? Iorweth?'

'I don't think so. Wait. I'll double back once I'm out of sight. You'll be safe enough here.'

Jareth took the horses down to the stream whilst Sarah tried to stretch her legs and ease the rest of her tortured muscles, feeling that she would almost kill for a hot bath and a bed when they reached Devin's home. They'd ridden all day, only stopping to rest the horses, after Jareth had decided to push on for their destination. She leant back against a convenient tree, just daydreaming about being able to stretch out in a deep, steaming bath.

The feel of the cold edge of a knife against her throat, and a dirty, roughened hand clamped over her mouth to stop her from screaming shattered the dream.

'Now then, lassie, don't struggle,' said a voice in her ear. She froze, not daring to move. Where was Jareth?

'Looks like we got lucky today.' Another man walked out of the trees, followed by a dwarf. Both were wearing battered looking leather jerkins, and carrying swords. 'Well now, didn't anyone tell you that it's not safe for a pretty little thing like you to be out here on your own. You might run into all sorts of trouble.'

'Even if she's not got much silver on her,' said the one still holding her, 'we'll still have some fun, right?' They laughed.

'Actually, she's not alone.' To Sarah's relief, Jareth appeared across the clearing, and leaned nonchalantly against a tree, adjusting a glove with a casual air, not even looking at the ruffians. 'I suggest you let her go now.'

'Hah, He don't look like much.' The dwarf spat. 'Tully, you sort him. He's not even armed'

Jareth raised his head then, and Sarah recognised the look on his face. Cold. Unyielding. She felt a breeze rustle past her, where there had been none before in the still air of the afternoon. Around Jareth, it whipped his pale hair and long coat around in a strong wind, leaving everything around him untouched.

The second human moved in, confidently. Jareth didn't move. Only as the sword swung and came down for the kill - and Jareth simply wasn't there.

Neither was the robber. He was lying on his back several feet away unmoving. Jareth stepped over the body, and between one footstep and the next, was clad in the costume she'd first seen him in, so long ago. The dark moulded breastplate, the midnight blue cloak. Every inch the Goblin King, in his full power.

The ruffian holding Sarah let her go, and she dropped to the floor, crawling out of the way. Once in the safety of the trees, she stopped to watch. The dwarf moved in to attack, less surely than his human partner. Jareth again seemed to fade out from under the blow, simply moving elsewhere. Why doesn't he finish it from a distance? Sarah wondered, watching him move closer to the dwarf, trying to get within arms length. The answer came to her in a flash. He's still too weak, he needs to be as close as possible. And he couldn't get close enough, he kept having to dodge the dwarf's sword. Come on... Sarah whispered. Finish it...

Despite his current limitations though, she could almost swear he was enjoying it.

Finally, Jareth had his chance. She didn't even see him move, but the dwarf was lying on the ground, as still as his companion. But where's the third...?

She saw Jareth waver on his feet, slightly, as he stood in the centre of the clearing, and she looked around. Where...? The third ruffian stepped back out of the trees, hefting his sword in one hand and grinning.

'Worn you out a bit, has it?' he sneered. But he kept his distance, as if weighing his chances. It wouldn't be forever, Sarah knew, watching the scene. If Jareth didn't make a move -

With only in instant in which to act, Sarah chose her path. As boldly as she could, she stepped out of the trees, and walked over to Jareth. Curling her arm around his waist, she leaned her head against his shoulder as coquettishly as possible, and simply smiled at the ruffian. 'Why darling,' she purred to Jareth, 'You left one for me to play with, how thoughtful.' She raised her eyes and held the ruffian's gaze, holding them with as cold a look as she could. Two years living with one of the most acclaimed stage actresses on the East Coast has to pay off sometime ...

Jareth straightened, his arm encircling her waist - not wholly to take advantage of the support she offered. ' I suggest you leave now - unless you want to face her...' His voice was cold, dark. But his hand gently squeezed her, an acknowledgement of her bluff.

The thug looked from one to the other, and obviously decided that discretion was the better part of survival. He ran - and fell, face down, about a hundred yards from them, his jerkin smoking slightly from where the crystal globe had hit him, thrown with an uncanny accuracy by Jareth.

'Well I wasn't going to have him coming back and trying to slit our throats in the night.' As he finished speaking, he was dressed again in his leather coat and white shirt. 'But just where,' he was facing her now, although he hadn't let go of her waist. 'Did that performance come from?' He was smiling again, the expression giving his eyes a playful spark. Strangely, she found herself returning the smile as she replied.

'Helping my mother read for Lady MacBeth last year.' Sarah couldn't decide at the moment whether she felt sick or exhilarated. Probably both. Despite looking a little faded around the edges, Jareth looked as if he'd enjoyed it. Which, looking at three bodies lying around the glade, wasn't a comforting thought. But the effort had taken a lot out of him, she realised. His casual use of magic was taking a heavy toll on his strength.

'You were quite convincing,' he said, distracting her.

'Which bit?' Sarah asked, with a grin. 'Scaring that thug, or making eyes at you?' Jareth's answering smile held a feral amusement this time.

'Both.'

He hadn't let go of her, she noticed belatedly. But then, she hadn't pulled away from him either. Without warning, he leant forward and kissed her lips, very lightly. Seeing him as he pulled away from her, Sarah was reminded of the first dream she'd had, seeing him sitting on the window ledge, looking out over his city, so strangely vulnerable.

Only for an instant, and the mask was back in place. 'I'll get the horses. I want to reach Devin by nightfall.'

Numbly, she nodded, and let her arm fall away from him.

He'd not taken more than two steps away from her when a loud howl split the air.

'What now?' Sarah yelped. She moved back to his side, seeking safety.

'Wolf.' Jareth was tracking the sound, his eyes moving rapidly over the area. 'But not a true beast, from the sound.' He looked worried.

It walked slowly out of the wood, a large, tawny furred wolf, the biggest she'd seen. Its eyes were a smoky grey, almost human. But the cry she uttered then at seeing it was not from fear, but a reaction to the recognition of the small limp body gripped in its jaws, which with a deliberate insolence, it deposited on the ground at the edge of the clearing. Raising its head and staring straight at them, it simply howled once and vanished.

Heedless of Jareth's sharp command for her to stay put, she ran forwards, dropping to her knees at the side of the pile of russet fur. It was Sir Didymus.

Sarah reached out a hand, almost afraid to touch her old friend. He was torn and bleeding in several places, his jacket ripped, and his eyepatch gone. He lay so still, she was afraid he was dead, until he coughed and twitched, making her jump. His one remaining eye opened, and stared up at her. Despite his wounds his nose wrinkled in a smile.

'My lady...'

'Don't try to move,' Sarah told him. Very gently, she tried to pick him up. Before she could, gloved hands reached around her and lifted the battered little fox - surprisingly gently.

'Let me.' Jareth carried him over to the packs, and laid him down gently. 'Didymus, how do you manage to get yourself into so much trouble at your age?' he asked, with an exasperated edge in his voice.

'Your Majesty, forgive me. That dastardly fiend - '

'Hush. I wouldn't expect you to take on half of Iorweth's army single pawed.' Jareth held out a small bowl to Sarah. 'Water.' While she poured from the canteen, and he cleaned Didymus' wounds, the fox explained how he came to be here.

'Lord Iorweth's captain, Calion, a decidedly unpleasant individual, captured myself and the valiant Sir Hoggle at the gates.' The description of Hoggle occasioned a snort from Jareth. At Sarah's glare, he just shrugged. Didymus continued: 'They wanted to know who Lady Sarah was - I'm afraid I let that slip.'

Jareth frowned, but then waved that away. 'They'd have found out. What about the Labyrinth itself?'

Didymus shivered. 'Alas my lord, it changes. When the wolf-lord carried me through it, there were dark things stirring in the maze. Even some of the creatures are no longer what they were. As to the rest - '

Jareth cut him short. 'And the goblins? What of them?'

'All confined within the city walls, sire. Hoggle and myself barely escaped before the gates were shut. I do believe he intends to keep them all locked up there until he has - forgive me -destroyed thee.'

To the surprise of both Sarah and Didymus, Jareth threw his head back and laughed. 'He did that?' Seeing their consternation, he explained. 'If Iorweth locked all of the goblins up in one place, he's a bigger idiot than I thought.' He sighed in exasperation at their blank looks. 'It's worse than explaining something to the creatures themselves. No-one puts a large group of goblins in a confined space if they have any understanding at all of their nature. They'll be out of there before too long. And he'll regret it when they are.'

'They didn't seem like much of a threat as an army,' Sarah said doubtfully. Jareth was still grinning.

'Of course not. But Iorweth doesn't know one thing. Didymus?'

The little fox suddenly laughed, stopping with a wince as his wounds hurt. 'Oh dear. Oh dear oh dear...'

'What?' asked Sarah.

Didymus twitched his whiskers. 'My lady, for reasons of convenience - '

'Say rather, they managed to blow up the last one - ' Jareth added dryly.

'The brewery is located in the castle cellars!' Didymus finished.

Sarah stared at the pair thinking they'd gone completely mad. 'That's it?'

'Well,' Jareth qualified, still laughing. 'There probably won't be much of the city wall left by the time they've tunnelled through it - the sappers are more enthusiastic than skilled.' He frowned. 'I just hope they don't try going under the castle wall. I lost an entire tower the last time they tried something like that.' Seeing Sarah's still sceptical look, he tried again. 'You can't get a goblin to do anything by most means - bully them, persuade them - they're so contrary, you can't know what they'll do in reply - but lock up the beer supply, and they'll go through anything.'

'That's insane!'

Jareth shrugged. 'They are goblins - what did you expect?' He turned his attention back to Didymus. 'Calion left you as a message to me, I suppose.'

'He told me I was to serve as a warning, Your Majesty. A taste of what his lord has in store for you.' Didymus' whiskers drooped. Sarah hadn't realised before just how old the little fox looked. Or, she thought, just what Jareth's relationship with his subjects was. She'd never thought to ask. Yet, he seemed fond of Didymus.

'And Hoggle?' Sarah asked, suddenly remembering that Didymus had mentioned that her other friend had been captured with him.

If it were possible for Didymus to hang his head any further, he would have done. 'Alas fair maiden, he was taken, and we were separated. I know not his fate.'

Jareth finished binding Didymus' wounds, and took Sarah's arm, leading her to fetch the horses. 'Iorweth has more important things to worry about than one dwarf. I wouldn't worry too much.'

'That other one doesn't seem to share that view,' Sarah pointed out.

'Calion is a sadist. One very good reason for reaching Devin tonight. Calion knows exactly where we are, and I'm not about to spend another night out in the open with him prowling around.'

Collecting the horses, Sarah asked one more question. 'What is the story with Didymus? You two seem to have quite an understanding. I thought...'

'You thought I despised all my subjects and had stationed that poor little creature out in the bog from some sense of whimsy?' He looked disappointed. 'Sarah, you still jump to conclusions far too quickly. Didymus has served me for centuries. I retired him there because he still thinks he's young enough to go rampaging through hordes of goblins single handed.' He looked sideways at her. 'Especially when encouraged by young girls who should know better.' His sharp look mellowed into another sly smile. 'And besides, he's had no sense of smell for decades - it seemed like a good idea at the time.'

Sarah stopped walking and stared at him. 'I know I'm going to regret asking this - you said centuries? Just how old are you?'

'Six hundred and twenty.'

Sarah's jaw dropped. He reached out and gently tapped her mouth closed. 'Don't be so surprised - I thought you'd read enough fairy tales to know that my kind are very long lived.'

'Reading it and living it are two very different things,' Sarah replied. She grinned, relishing a rare opportunity to tease him. 'Besides, you don't look a day over thirty-five.' She clicked her tongue to Ghairlean and started leading the horse back to where they'd left Didymus, Jareth following in her wake and muttering something under his breath that, if she'd understood Goblin, would probably have singed her ears.

***

They reached the gates of Devin's estate just as the sun went down. Sarah stared in awe at the ornate open metalwork of the gates: cast in a silvery metal, they caught and held the light, taking on the orange-rose hue of the sinking sun. Set in a twelve-foot high wall, the gates were wide enough to let a truck through, she thought. And the detail... almost every fantastic creature she could remember was pictured in the work - unicorns, a dragon, a pegasus - all rendered in outline, yet so exquisitely formed, it seemed as if they could almost come alive in front of her. And yet the images were formed in such a way, that none was pictured in isolation. It looked like an Escher print, she thought: the spaces between one creature and the next formed yet another.

'It's beautiful,' she whispered - partly in awe, partly so as not to wake the now sleeping Sir Didymus who was perched in front of her on the saddle. Jareth conjured a small orb, and the gates opened as he touched it to the centre.

'There's a lot of her work in the Labyrinth, if you know where to look,' he said, leading her through. Behind them the gates closed silently.

'Who?' Sarah asked, intrigued.

'Devin's wife. Jehanna.'

'Will she be here?'

He shook his head. 'No. She died. A long time ago.' He nudged the chestnut mare into a trot. 'Come on, it's late.'

They rode up to the house - a large manor, Sarah noted with some surprise, having expected something a lot more mystical than a Seventeenth century mansion. Human servants took the horses from them, and a young girl carried Sir Didymus away. Jareth offered his arm to Sarah as she wavered on her feet, and led her to the ornate double doors of the mansion.

Devin met them at the front door, greeting them effusively. 'You made good time,' he said, leading them inside. 'A good thing I saw you coming, I was able to get the rooms ready.'

'Just as long as there's a bath,' Sarah told him. 'Other than that, I really don't care.'

Devin laughed. 'Have no fear, a suite of rooms, a hot bath, and clean clothes await. When you're finished, Melissa will bring you down for dinner.' A young red haired girl appeared and curtsied, and taking Sarah's arm, led her away.

Sarah looked guiltily at the clock when she walked back into the bedroom from the bathroom. She'd been soaking for over an hour. But, she thought happily, at least I feel marginally human again. She was revelling in the feeling of being clean, for the first time in two days.

The young girl was still waiting for her in the room - Sarah had drawn the line at being tended to in the bath.

'I can dress myself, thanks,' Sarah told her. The girl curtsied.

'My lady - '

For saying she'd spent most of her childhood fantasising about being in this position, Sarah was beginning to find it embarrassing. 'Please, just Sarah.' The girl smiled.

'If you can fasten a whole row of buttons on that dress - ' she pointed at a neatly laid out confection in burgundy silk on the bed, 'then I wish you good fortune!'

Sarah examined the dress. The buttons on the back were tiny, and there were dozens of them. She turned back to Melissa, blushing. 'I see what you mean. Would you mind?'

Looking at the finished result in the full length mirror half an hour later, she decided maybe she'd been a bit hasty about her first feelings about this kind of lifestyle after all. Melissa had done things with her hair, and her make-up, she'd never have tried for herself. The result, she thought, spinning around to get a good look at the effect, was breathtaking. Although the neckline gave her a few problems. It was daringly low. Melissa stopped her from fiddling with it.

'It looks perfect, my la- Sarah. Just leave it as it is.'

'If I bend over, I'm lost,' Sarah told her with a grin. Although the prospect wasn't that displeasing. 'Oh well, I suppose I'd better put in an appearance. You'd better show me where to go.'

Melissa escorted her as far as an ornately carved wooden door on the ground floor, which was slightly ajar. Thanking her, Sarah gave a shy knock and walked in.

The room was a beautiful oak panelled dining room - surprisingly small and intimate. Devin and Jareth were already seated, but both rose from their seats as she entered. Devin's smile was warm and open as she walked over to them, and he gave her an approving nod. Jareth, however, looked at her as if seeing her for the first time. His gaze raked her with such frank appreciation, she thought she'd be blushing hard enough to match the colour of her gown.

She greeted Devin, then turned her attention to Jareth - who, she had to admit, looked distinctly improved himself. He was dressed all in black this time - an open fronted shirt with his sickle-shaped medallion resting on his chest, the shirt tucked into tight black breeches and finished with black knee high boots. Combined with his pale spiked hair, it looked suitably dramatic. Which was probably the idea... Standing in front of him, she held his gaze for a moment, before dropping her eyes demurely, and dropping a deep curtsey. 'Your Majesty.' She rose slowly, and met his eyes again, unable to suppress a grin, however much she tried.

'Sarah.' One black gloved hand reached down and took her hers, assisting her to stand. He bowed over it, mismatched eyes twinkling, playing his own part to the full. 'Quite a transformation.' He led her over to a chair, pulling it out for her with a studied flourish.

Devin tutted. 'I think what he means to say, is that you look beautiful, my dear. Except, as ever, he's not one for social niceties. Comes of spending far too long with those uncouth goblins of his.' Sarah hid her smile by picking up her goblet and taking a sip. Jareth took the seat opposite her, dropping into it with a casual elegance.

'Or perhaps I just prefer to keep such comments for more private moments.'

Devin accepted the mild rebuke with an incline of his head and a half smile, and beckoned to the serving staff to begin.

***

Iorweth made his way through the tangle of trees with a sure stride, careful to avoid the traps and pitfalls.

Pitiful, he thought. They couldn't be more obvious if you placed a sign over them saying 'Watch your step'. Childish and lacklustre. But not for much longer.

In his wake, the trees took on a darker, more menacing air, as if he brought with him some miasma which tainted everything it touched. The undergrowth closed in, leaves rustling as vines and creepers tangled the trees in a choking grip, turning what had been a simple if rather straggly woodland into a place of fear.

Whisperings in the wood followed the Sidhe as he walked, but he ignored them. The strange wildlings of the woods would serve his purpose well enough as they were. One of the few creatures he actually had a use for.

A large wolf appeared at his side, and transformed into Calion.

'I delivered your little gift, my lord.' He bowed. Iorweth carried on walking, gesturing to his second to follow.

'Where is he now?'

'At Silverpool.' Calion named Devin's estate with distaste. 'The place is well warded. I doubt I could attack him there. Not without preparation.'

Iorweth laughed. 'Let him lick his wounds for a while. He'll be coming soon enough.' His smile was cold. 'Just as soon as I'm ready for him. By which time, the board will be set. And all I need are my pieces.' He closed his hand into a fist. When he opened it again, a chess piece lay in his palm. A white king. 'And when that time comes, Jareth will wish I'd simply killed him.'

'This is too elaborate. Why...?'

Iorweth cut him off with a raised hand. 'Enough. Calion, you presume too much. Jareth will play out the game because I decree it.'

Calion persisted. 'The Labyrinth resists your interference. If you'd let me have him - '

'Calion, Calion... this is not merely about wanting Jareth dead - it's about entertainment. He can't offer me any amusement if he dies too easily, can he?'

Calion bowed his head. 'No, my Lord.'

'Better. Now walk with me. I'd like your opinion on this next section. I think it has a lot of potential...'

***

Dinner passed in something of a blur for Sarah. The food was excellent, although after eating dried rations for two days anything would have tasted good to her. The wine was a little heady - she drank sparingly, wanting to keep her wits about her. The conversation was spinning around her like a dance, leaving her sitting mutely, listening to Devin and Jareth talking quietly.

To be honest, she felt a little out of her depth. After all, what can a High School Senior contribute in the company of two centuries old Sidhe?

'Sarah?' Devin's voice called her back to the world with a jump.

'I'm sorry?' She smiled to hide her confusion. What had she missed?

'I was just asking if you were all right - you seemed a little tired there.'

'I'm fine. I think. Maybe I could just get a little air?'

'I could escort you - ' Devin began. Sarah shook her head.

'I'll be fine. I'll just stretch my legs a bit. Please.' She made her escape from the room, and stood with her back to the panelling in the corridor, wondering why she'd felt the need to get out all of a sudden. Too much too soon, she told herself. It's like being up on stage on an opening night and realising that although you look the part, no one bothered to teach you the lines.

Or come to think of it, tell you which play you were in.

Pull yourself together, she told herself sternly: you can't afford to fall apart now. You're in this up to your neck already. Straightening, she decided to explore a little. If nothing else, it would give her a chance to think.

Devin's home was, she began to appreciate very quickly, both large and lovely. And compared to the Goblin Castle, a study in elegance, beauty and perfection. She contrasted it to the draughty, messy interior of the castle, and grinned. This was more the sort of setting she'd pictured for a faerie king's domain.

Most of the doors she tried were locked, but at the end of the main corridor, one opened onto a long gallery, lit by torches that burned - if that was the right word, since the flame was cool, and blue in colour, and did not flicker in the draught. It gave the room an otherworldly glow that added to the fairy-tale like quality of the place. The gallery was lined with pictures. Surprisingly, most of them were landscapes. She'd always thought of these settings as laden with ancient peeling portraits of various nefarious ancestors, somehow.

But half way down the gallery, there was a life-size portrait, in a different hand to the others - which had the look, even to her inexperienced eye, of being the work of one person. A tall, slender young woman, with ice blond hair, dressed in a sea-green gown that picked out the colour of her eyes. Whatever it was she'd been looking at when she'd posed for that, Sarah thought, must have been amusing, as her smile held a quality that seemed almost about to burst into laughter. She was extraordinarily beautiful.

There was also, Sarah thought, something familiar about her face, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it.

'She was rather lovely, wasn't she?'

Jareth. Standing behind her, and she hadn't even heard him. 'Yes.' She turned to him. 'Who was she?'

'Jehanna.'

The name rang a vague bell, and Sarah recalled their conversation on the way here. 'Devin's wife?'

'And my sister.' His face was unreadable again, shuttered. Looking from the portrait to him and back again, Sarah could have kicked herself for not noticing the resemblance.

'If you still want some fresh air, let me show you something.' Taking her arm, he steered her to the large window at the end of the gallery. At a touch of his hand, it swung outwards, and they walked out onto a large patio, surrounded by a low ornamental wall. Various small, well tended flower beds were dotted randomly about the little courtyard, highlighted by the still bright moon - past full now, but large enough to cast a bright silvery glow over the flagstones.

It looked almost close enough to touch, Sarah thought. And somehow so much nearer and brighter than home...

She walked over to the wall and leaned on it, arms folded, breathing deeply of the night air - cool, crisp and fresh, carrying the scent of night-blooming flowers. So different from home.

Jareth had followed her over, and was now sat on the wall, one booted foot resting on top, the other dangling casually down. 'Something was bothering you in there,' he said at length, breaking the silence. Sarah thought about denying it for a moment, then changed her mind. No. If she had to stay here for a while, maybe it was best to get everything out into the open.

'I just felt as if I didn't belong. As if I was -'

'On stage, but you didn't know the lines?' His eyes held hers. 'Afraid that you're a burden, and that two such experienced sophisticates will have no time for a teenaged mortal girl, taken from her own world and placed in the centre of a power struggle which has nothing to do with her?'

Once again, Sarah thought, he'd startled her with an uncanny understanding. Not even her mother had ever really understood her moods and feelings.

He leaned forward. 'I could send you home in a few days, but I can't guarantee your safety. Iorweth and Calion are both capable of crossing over, and either one of them would delight in using you against me.'

'I don't want to go back,' she said. What was there to go back for? Her parents had lives of their own that didn't include her. As for the rest... She hoped the tears she blinked back didn't show. Self-pity... She buried it. 'At least, not just yet.'

'Then don't.' His hand strayed to the owl pendant at her throat. 'Although if you stay, I will want you to do something.'

Sarah regarded him warily.

'I want Devin to follow you into your dreams. I need to know why you keep having them, and, more to the point, what they mean.'

'I'd be happy if they just stopped.'

'Will you allow it?' His gaze was earnest. He didn't have to ask, she knew. There was nothing to stop him from just making her obey. She nodded.

'When?' she asked.

'Not tonight. In a few days time, when you're well rested. Until then, I've asked Devin to set wards in your room. They should help.'

An owl hooted somewhere in the night, making her jump. PenArran Wood. The hawk taking flight, and the torn owl left behind. She shivered, and felt his hand on her arm. 'Sarah?'

'Sorry, it just reminded me of something.' She told him of the hawk and the owl in the woods, on her birthday. 'The first dream was later that night.'

'Three omens of my death? I'm glad I'm not superstitious.' It was said lightly, but from the sudden tension in his body, she could tell the thought had thrown him. Three times the charm, the old proverb read...

I don't want you dead. 'Iorweth is red haired,' she said. She watched the corners of his mouth tighten. 'What's his preferred form for shapechanging?'

'It's getting late, we should get back.' He jumped off the wall, landing lightly, and took her arm. She shook it off standing her ground.

'Jareth, tell me. It's a hawk isn't it? A red tailed hawk?'

'Sarah, let it lie.' His voice took on a dangerous edge.

'No.' She faced him, refusing to back down. 'You want me to trust you, to help you. I can't do that unless you trust me. Tell me!'

They stood face to face for a long drawn out moment, and she could feel her heart thumping in her breast. But her nerve held, and he was the one who looked away. 'Yes,' he said finally.

'Why didn't you just tell me?'

'Because I don't want you involved in this anymore than you have to be. Why is that so hard for you to understand?'

Dangerous ground, part of her whispered. Don't push him... But she had to.

'I'm already involved. Keeping things from me now isn't going to make much of a difference.' She was shouting by the time she'd finished. 'They know I'm with you, they know who I am. Am I really any safer away from you?'

He didn't reply.

'It's significant somehow, isn't it? That omen? Why? Why does it scare you more than the dreams?'

'Sarah- '

It came to her then, a sudden insight. She stared up at him, eyes wide. 'It happened before you were attacked, didn't it? That's why it worries you: the rest could have just been a link somehow through this - ' she grasped the owl pendant. 'But the birds - that's different.'

'Don't get in any deeper Sarah. Knowledge is dangerous in this land.'

'So is the lack of it,' she retorted. 'You brought me here, I'm stuck with this whether I want it or not. At least let me try to help.'

'You are the most stubborn, obstinate, -' he began, exasperated.

'Then I'd say we're well matched.'

She thought she'd gone too far then, as he stood in the moonlight, holding her gaze again with his own. Highlighted by the moon's silvery beams, he'd never looked less human to her. Pale skin, pale hair, his face thrown into stark relief by the cold light and shadow, accentuating its sharp planes.

'You have a way,' he said finally, 'of testing my patience.' He stared past her, at the sinking moon. 'It's late, we should retire.' He offered his arm and she accepted, letting him escort her as far as the door to her rooms.

There were no dreams that night.

***

'If you're going to do this, I don't want them here.' Devin said, with as much finality as he could manage. 'Jareth...'

'They've got to come somewhere. Where else am I supposed to summon them?' Jareth put the finishing touches to the summoning orb he'd crafted. Two days rest had done a lot to restore his powers. Time to test them out. Gloved hands twirled the crystal, playing it backwards and forwards across the backs of his hands, before sending it into the air with a showman's flourish, where it vanished.

'Show-off,' Devin snorted. Jareth leaned back in the chair and smiled.

'They'll behave, or I'll know the reason why.'

'I'll believe it when I see it. Those goblins of yours cause havoc wherever they turn up.'

Jareth shrugged. 'It's what they do best. And if there were any still wandering outside the Labyrinth when Iorweth took the city, or that escaped, I want them where I can keep an eye on them. And where I can use them. They're no use to me scattered across the land.'

'What about the girl?' Devin asked abruptly, changing the subject. He watched as Jareth's face lost its look of wry amusement and the mask came down. 'Don't try that one on me, it doesn't work. I've known you too long. You've left her kicking her heels around here for two days, avoiding her. She's bored, you're bored, you could both do with a break. I could do with a break from you...'

'She needed to rest. I still want you to weave for her when you're ready.' He wouldn't meet Devin's eyes.

'Then while I prepare, show her the grounds. She's your responsibility, not mine!' Devin grinned. 'Besides, you like her, admit it!'

'You presume too much sometimes, Devin.' Jareth snapped, but without much conviction.

'No I don't.' Devin tapped Jareth's booted feet, resting on an ornate oak table, and they were reluctantly moved. 'Not when you know I'm right. Keep her company for a bit. It'll do you both good.' He grinned suddenly. 'And if you won't do it if I ask nicely - bugger off!'

***

Sarah reined in the black she was riding as Jareth came to a stop on his tall grey. Silverpool, she had to admit, was beautiful. A fairy tale estate - enclosed, tended parklands, wild little copses, carefully designed dells with rocky streams babbling through them. The sort of place she'd loved exploring as a girl. For a little while at least, she felt as if she could forget the danger that loomed over them.

Looking at her guide for the morning, she got the feeling he could as well.

She'd been surprised when he'd finally sought her out - she'd got the impression that apart from meals, he'd been avoiding her since that first night. When he'd suggested a ride through the grounds, she'd jumped at the chance to do something to relieve the boredom. Relaxed, with no visible threat to their safety, he was proving to be surprisingly good company so far.

Jareth dismounted, landing lightly. Sarah followed suit, a little more awkwardly, still suffering a little from her cross-country ride. At least this time though, she was dressed for it - although how Devin had managed to find breeches and boots in her size at such short notice... magic? She tugged at the full sleeves of her shirt, and led her horse over to Jareth.

'What now?'

He took the reins from her, and looped them over the pommel of the saddle, leaving the horses to roam. 'We walk from here. There's a place I want to show you.' A secretive little half smile hovered at the corners of his mouth - a kind of 'I know something you don't' look, Sarah thought. But still, she took his hand when it was offered.

He led her up a small hill, and down into a wood. From the top of the hill, she thought she glimpsed the glint of sunlight off water. Following close behind through the overgrown path, she asked him again where they were going. He smiled back at her, and just whispered 'You'll see.'

Walking out of the wood Sarah took a deep breath as the view spread out before her. Silverpool, it seemed, was well named.

Silver leafed willows bordered the lakeside, hanging their supple branches over the water. The lake was small, but so clear that the water captured the noon sun, reflecting it back with a silvery shimmer, the ripples caused by the wind breaking up the light into a thousand or more shadows on the surface. Around the lake, flowers of types Sarah had never seen clustered along the shore, every single one a different shade of blue or with a pale silvery sheen to their foliage.

'Beautiful, isn't it?' Jareth's soft voice at her ear. She nodded, just drinking in the sight.

'I don't think I've ever seen anything so lovely,' she whispered, almost afraid to speak in case it disturbed the serenity of this place.

'Well,' Jareth said dryly, 'I suppose it makes a pleasant change from certain parts of the Labyrinth...'

Turning to look at him, she saw his eyes sparkling with that now-familiar glint of mischief.

'How,' she asked, 'Can you stand that place compared to this?'

'It has its charms, if you know where to look.' Again that fleeting half smile she'd come to recognise - self-mocking, almost. 'The Bog of Eternal Stench however is not one of them.'

Caught off guard, she laughed, and a moment later he joined her. His face when lit by genuine amusement had a way of making her heart skip a beat, she thought, watching him.

He offered her his hand, and, after a slight hesitation, she took it. His eyes still held an air of mischief, and she couldn't help but wonder what he was up to. He backed away towards the lake, pulling her with him. Finally they were standing on the flat grassy meadow at the lakeside, and with a little tug, she was pulled into his arms. Still holding her hand, one arm around her waist, with no warning, he began to waltz her around the meadow.

'I can't!' she gasped breathlessly.

'Why not?' He whirled her around. 'Embarrassed?' He raised an eyebrow.

Yes... No. His mood of complete abandon was contagious. She was whirled around the meadow until she was dizzy, and she was out of breath from dancing and laughing by the time he came to a stop near the lakeside. She was holding onto him to keep her balance, and his arms were around her...

Very deliberately, be bent down and kissed her. Not the light, brief touch, the fleeting gesture after the fight in the woods. This time, it was questioning, testing. His lips were so soft on hers...

Moments of transition...

She relaxed, letting him pull her closer, and kissed him back, uncertainly at first, but with a growing confidence as he returned it. If it wasn't the first time she'd been kissed with such intent, it was the first time she'd felt as if she were drowning in the feelings aroused. She placed her arms around his neck and felt him pull her closer in response. The part of her that was asking what the hell she thought she was doing, she pushed to the back of her mind.

His tongue found hers, his kisses deepening then becoming teasing, encouraging her to respond in kind. She was more than happy to oblige.

'Ahem. Your Majesty? My lady?'

The mood abruptly shattered, Sarah was brought back to earth with a bump. Jareth pulled away, muttering an oath under his breath. Still keeping his arms around her, he turned his attention to the intruder. Judging by the look in his eyes, he wasn't best pleased.

Come to think of it, neither was she.

'Didymus!' Jareth almost growled the name.

The little fox advanced, with an elegant bow. 'Sire, I apologise for intruding, but Lord Devin sends me to inform thee that he is now ready to perform the weaving for Lady Sarah.' He studiously avoided meeting their eyes with his single one, Sarah noticed.

'Tell him we'll be there shortly.'

Didymus, still limping from his ordeal, backed away, and trotted off gamely. Sarah could have sworn she saw his whiskers twitch as he turned.

The dreams... Sarah let her head rest against Jareth's shoulder, suddenly feeling drained. She had no option now but to face them, and whatever they meant. The day lost its lustre somehow, at the thought.

'I'm afraid,' she whispered. His arms tightened around her.

'I'll be there.' He released her then, and stood staring at her for the space of a heartbeat, the merriment gone from his eyes - now they held concern. 'Come,' he said gently. He offered her his hand, and after a brief hesitation, she took it, allowing him to lead her back to the horses.

They rode back to the house in silence, both lost in thought.

Overhead, a tawny coloured eagle hovered, before diving down below the treeline out of sight.

***

'Take the amulet off,' Devin told her. With hands that shook more than she liked, Sarah complied, handing the delicate silver owl to Jareth.

The three of them were in a spacious sitting room, Sarah sitting in a large overstuffed armchair, flanked by Devin and Jareth. The drapes had been pulled across the windows, shutting out the sun. The room was lit by the blue flamed torches that were everywhere in the mansion, and it cast an eerie glow over the room, highlighting Jareth's pale features - a stark contrast, she thought, to Devin's more solid, bearded face.

It struck her then, watching them, the differences between the two men. 'You're human!' She blurted out to Devin before thinking,. He grinned at her.

'It took you this long to work it out?' He flicked her nose with a finger. 'Yes. After a fashion. Now, concentrate.' His hand moved in front of her face, palm open and facing her. She wondered what exactly was going to happen next...

And she was standing on paving stones, archways and other pieces of masonry falling past her as she looked around... I know this place...

Feathers, pale feathers, falling softly around her face, through her fingers, no matter how hard she tried to catch them.

And the echo of Iorweth's ghastly laughter on the wind.

She stared around in panic. This wasn't right.

From the corner of her eye, she saw movement. Turning, she watched as Jareth walked towards her from one of the twisting archways. So pale... the pallid, ragged cloak, ash fair hair, eyes shadowed...

And his hand stretched towards her... 'Look what I'm offering...' His soft voice, heard so often in her dreams.

His grey-gloved hand was empty.

Overhead, the moon was shining, full, crystal bright.

She reached out this time, placed her hand in his -

And gasped. His hand closed over hers, and she was falling, falling...

A voice, calling her name. 'Sarah.'

Eyes opened. She was standing in the throne room of the Goblin Castle. This time, she was not alone. Beside her, Devin was standing, grey eyes radiating concern. And Jareth. Her Jareth, not the dream from times past. Her hand was still clasped in his.

'What happened?' she asked. Devin smiled at her.

'I'm not sure, yet.' Around them, other details began to phase into being. 'But something's trying to show us something. Sarah, relax. Let it happen.'

'I can't.' She shivered. 'Please...' Beside her, she felt Jareth move closer.

'Trust in me. I said I'd be here for you.' He stood behind her, his arms around her, shielding her.

She leant back against him, grateful for the support. Had she really ever feared him...?

Goblins. All over the place. Dozens of them, in all shapes and sizes: horned, tailed, scaled, hairy. Some were seemingly content to lie back quaffing from tankards, others were having a tug of war with a small hairy goblin over in the corner.

On the throne...

Sarah had to reassure herself that Jareth was still holding her.

'The past.' Jareth said quietly.

Sarah turned her attention back to the throne, where Jareth was sitting, bouncing a gurgling baby in red st