Chapter Eleven
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Pulling up in his paramedic supervisor truck, Sal arrived at the address given to him by Scarvy minutes after the detective and parked behind his unmarked police car, making sure his sirens and emergency lights were off prior to turning on the correct address block. Immediately he noticed he and Scarvy were the first ones on scene but knew others would appear quickly and Sal wasn't sure how he felt about that, assuming Scarvy's intuition was accurate.
As he stepped out of the driver's seat Sal heard two gunshots ring out from the residence and ducked behind the open driver's door. "Holy shit!" He muttered, torn between rushing to Scarvy's aid and waiting for more cops. He was a paramedic, for a Pete's sake, his equipment didn't consist of guns; not that he didn't know how to defend himself but carrying a weapon on duty wasn't allowed. Currently he carried his pocket knife, a metal flashlight which when used properly caused mild concussions and unconsciousness, a forty pound medical bag, and his portable EKG machine— both made excellent projectiles but none of his items were objects of deadly force...well, maybe the pocket knife but what kind of moron brings a knife to a gun fight?
Sal crouched behind the door another minute and when nothing else occurred he decided he couldn't leave his new friend alone regardless of the risk. "Son-of-a-bitch." Sal grabbed his medical equipment and flashlight and jogged to the front door slowing as he got closer noticing the broken window. As he cautiously peeked around the edge of the window he saw a small lamp illuminating the unoccupied living room. A partially destroyed room presented itself until he lowered his view and there lie Scarvy, alone and unmoving on the floor with what looked to be a severe, corrosive type burn to his entire chest and abdomen with thin trails of blue fire racing over the edges where the burnt flesh met healthy. The clothes of his upper torso entirely crisped away from the front.
"Damn it, Scarvy!" Sal stepped through the window, careful to avoid the jagged glass edges, carrying his equipment with him. Once inside he glanced quickly around the room once more checking for Scarvy's attackers, still empty except for them. Sal knelt next to the detective and pulled on a pair of latex gloves as he visually assessed Scarvy's injuries and status. Barely conscious, Scarvy's respirations were shallow and slow...a very bad sign. Sal felt his throat for a carotid pulse and found a weak one, also rapid which likely would slow very soon if he proper medical interventions couldn't save him.
"Scarvy...William!" Sal slapped his face because he couldn't give him a sternal rub to wake him; whatever happened to the detective caused unusual third degree burns which continued to burn over his chest and stomach. Already Sal could see the whitish bone of Scarvy's sternum peering through bloody, ragged flaps of skin— pieces of skin which were rapidly dissolving before his eyes, eaten by the blue fire. What the hell happened to him? It looked as if a glowing acid were thrown on him, inexorably leading to his death of that Sal resolutely believed. In all his years as a paramedic he'd never seen such trauma to a human body; there wasn't anything in his medical bag of tricks to deal with this.
Scarvy moaned, his head tossing and his right arm flopping towards something just out of his reach on the other side of his body from Sal. Sal wrenched his view away from the horror of Scarvy's destroyed torso, the strange bluish fire eating away at the remaining flesh and starting on his ribs. Sal realized the detective reached for his communication crystal given to him by Jareth only days ago. The crystal!
"Hang on, Scarvy!" Sal rushed around Scarvy's barely moving, supine form, scrambling to his hands and knees to grab the crystal, palmed it and quickly call for Jareth—he prayed Jareth would knew what to do. "I want to speak to Jareth!" He couldn't keep himself from yelling a bit, atypical for Sal but he knew Scarvy's life measured in minutes if perhaps not seconds and he continued to grip the sphere in sweaty palms sparing a glance towards Scarvy, whose questing hand stilled. In fact, Scarvy's entire body stilled, his breathing shallowed and ceased.
"Nononono...man, you can't die...he'll be here soon!" Sal dropped the crystal with a smack onto the wood floor, grabbed Scarvy's neck and checked for a pulse...and couldn't find one.
"Sal, what the Bloody hell is going on here?" Jareth's voice cut through Sal's fear for Scarvy's life forcing Sal to spin around facing Jareth.
"You're here! Thank God, hurry! Scarvy's been injured and I don't know what to do." Sal informed Jareth who strode rapidly to the detective's side upon hearing the panic in Sal's voice—that alone would've brought Jareth running— but once he ascertained the detective's dire condition he concentrated solely on Scarvy. Sirens wailed in the not so far distance and Sal appreciated how little time remained before guests arrived. Jareth leaned over the detective, his black cape draping partially over the mortally injured, motionless man.
"Jareth, do you know what it is? Can you help him?" Sal asked watching the supernatural man in his dark armor kneel over Scarvy opposite of himself; Jareth's black gloved hands touched Scarvy swiftly in several places...his forehead, his face, and his melting chest were a few before hissing and meeting Sal's worried gaze.
"This magic is familiar," Jareth mumbled then said firmly, "He is nearly gone. I must transport him back to my castle if there is any hope of recovery." Jareth stated in a matter-of-fact tone but Sal could see both concern and something like pain in Jareth's odd eyes. "I want you to go with us...for his care and comfort." He added and Sal vigorously nodded.
"Sure whatever, we'd better hurry cause we're about to have company." Sal explained, hearing squealing tires out front knowing the cavalry arrived. Jareth laid a hand on Scarvy's arm, grasping Sal's as well just as Sal finished his warning and the next thing Sal experienced defied anything in his extensive experience.
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Abruptly, the house and the living room around them dissolved until blackness engulfed Sal's senses. His brain told him he should be weightless but it contradicted what his body sensed of solidness beneath him, of gravity pulling him and nausea crashed into his system like a sledgehammer. God...he hadn't thrown up since he was a rookie or when he was ill with the flu...or food poisoning, now that really sucked. Sal fought the primal urge to spew not knowing where the hell he'd vomit or what negative effect it would cause on this disorienting travel. He felt Jareth's hand tighten on his forearm; apparently Jareth understood his plight and attempted to reassure him.
The trip ended a few minutes later by Sal's estimation and none too soon, as he promptly lost the battle with his primal urges once a visible, tangible floor meet his physical body. Fortunately, enough presence of mind remained that Sal was able to twist his body in time so his partially digested dinner landed on the gray stone floor rather than Scarvy and Jareth, catching himself so that he ended up on his hands and knees.
"Gods Below, Jareth! What happened?" A memorable female voice asked and Sal glanced up to see regally dressed Sarah rush into the large, open chamber whence they appeared.
"I found them like this when I arrived. Hurry my dear, Scarvy's been gravely injured and is near death. You must ask The Labyrinth to intercede for him as the spell is a vicious one and quite beyond me." Jareth explained which brought Sarah immediately to the unconscious detective. Sal watched from his kneeling position as Sarah, who curtly acknowledged him, hovered over Scarvy and commenced to touch him just as Jareth had earlier.
"Oh my God! This spell...it reminds me of The Labyrinth's protective barrier spell...who could do this and why?" Sarah asked absentmindedly just before she appeared to go into a trace and ceased speaking. Jareth stood anxiously next to Sarah with one hand out as if to touch her but he seemed to stop himself mid-reach then looked to Sal. Sal who sat on the stone floor intently watching Scarvy's condition and trying to ignore the fact that he sat in a large, rough-cut, stone chamber which looked to be a medieval throne room surrounded by an increasing number of small, greenish, leather skinned creatures which must be goblins by his logic. Assuming this place's logic was similar to his or was even subject to logic. The goblins appeared silently curious rather than dangerous but Sal had no desire to challenge that assumption at the moment and chose to sit very still.
"Are you alright, Sal?" Jareth asked calling his attention to him. "The teleportation disagreed with you I see." Jareth nodded towards Sal's dinner remnants currently being investigated, sniffed, and...licked?...by several of the goblins. Ugh...now that's disgusting and he found few things revolting.
"Uh...yeah...I guess so. Is that what that was?" Sal asked and tried to stand which brought Jareth quickly to his side.
"I don't recommend standing yet." Waving his hand a chair appeared behind Sal and Jareth coaxed him into it. "The disorientation can be quite severe the first time, please rest for now while Sarah attempts to heal Detective Scarvy. And don't mind the goblins, they're mostly harmless." Jareth added once he saw Sal's wary gaze on the odious creatures.
"Mostly harmless?" Sal repeated then looked again at the detective with the trace-like queen leaning over him. "Will she being able to save him? I didn't know what else to do...nothing I got would fix that...whatever that is." Jareth detected the note of genuine concern in Sal's voice, above his required professionalism.
"I believe so. The spell is vicious and deadly but not unmanageable for the right person."
"Sarah...she's a healer?" Sal asked then started as he saw Scarvy take a deep breath, his first since Sal found him.
"No," Jareth corrected. "But her magic is...well...it's difficult to explain without a complete understanding of what has occurred once we returned from your world previously. Suffice to say, Sarah has a deeper connection with The Labyrinth and its magic than I and may convince it to do things that I never could." Sal gave Jareth a cockeyed look from the corner of his eyes.
"Really? So that must nag at you some...being that you're the King and all." And Sal observed Jareth's jaw tighten and when their eyes met Jareth's one brow quirked and his voice became a tad scathing.
"Sal Silvari, you really must learn to curb your tongue. I serve the betterment of my Kingdom and the Queen's rule has brought that very thing to my Kingdom and myself, therefore I serve just as I rule."
"Yeah, I get that a lot. So
your Kingdom, huh? Wouldn't that be
her Kingdom? Or at least
our Kingdom?" Sal grinned loving the shade of red Jareth's face flushed before his jaw tightened again.
"Of course, that's what I meant." Jareth ground out. Before he could reply further to Sal's taunting Scarvy moaned, loudly, and Sarah woke from her trace with The Labyrinth. Jareth and Sal both returned to their sides, both kneeling on the floor next to the injured man and Sal was astounded to see Scarvy's immense and horrid wound rapidly healing as he watched. The blue fire licking the ragged open edges was gone and the tissue regenerating.
"Holy shit...that's amazing!" Sal blurted unable to contain his excitement both for Scarvy's recovery and the medical miracle he witnessed. Jareth released a deep sigh next to him and Sal realized just how uncertain Scarvy's outcome had been...even to Jareth, and that freaked him out a little bit because Jareth and Sarah were supposed to be powerful sorcerers. What the hell would worry them? Whatever did must be worth worrying about.
"He'll live, but he needs to rest for awhile." Sarah explained to the two men lingering anxiously across from her. She laid a hand on Scarvy's bare shoulder, it lie exposed as his upper clothes were eaten away from bow to stern. "As a Mortal his body needs more sleep and this spell, though very similar to the Labyrinth barrier, contained an additional acidic quality that I didn't face when I survived my experience. Truly a vicious spell, Jareth."
"Indeed, I recognized the magic and its user has become far more accomplished since I knew him." Jareth coolly stated, as he stood.
"You know who did this to Scarvy?" Sarah and Sal asked in unison and Jareth nodded, his hand cupping his chin thoughtfully but before he could give his answer Alia popped into existence in the throne buzzing furiously mid-air for a moment then zipping straight to the Queen.
"You're Majesty! The Princess...she's been abducted!" Alia cried frantically, landing on Sarah's shoulder and tugging on her hair, an action she'd never, ever considered proper. Sarah launched to her feet, Scarvy temporarily forgotten while Jareth and Sal both went to Sarah's side.
"What?" They all shouted. Gently pulling Alia from her hair, Sarah gave the pixie her hands to stand upon in front of her face.
"Tell me everything, Alia! What happened to Lizzie?" She instructed and the pixie related all the events leading up the Lizzie's kidnapping as the two men gathered around Sarah's upraised palms supporting Alia. The pixie hardly paused to breathe during her narrative so fearful was she, but it was the last bit of information she imparted which fixed Jareth's interest greater than any other.
"The woman who abducted Lizzie, she called herself Fiana?" Jareth confirmed in a distressed voice.
"Yes, Your Majesty, but she said of herself false. She pretended to befriend the princess and called herself Awen and also Ann." Alia hung her head in shame. "I should've told Your Majesties everything that Lizzie did then perhaps this tragedy would've been averted."
"Alia," Sarah soothed the anguished pixie. "As much as I would dearly love to know such things you were to first be her friend not our spy. You did well and we will find Lizzie and return her home!" Sarah nearly growled her vow then looked to Jareth seeing his brooding, stunned expression as he backed away from their huddle. Alia took flight again, her news complete, and took sudden notice of the still unconscious Scarvy lying on the throne room floor.
"Jareth? What is it?" Sarah walked towards him seeing his mind working; she knew pieces were connecting in his rapid fire brain. He met her eyes and she discerned in his a stare a type of pain she'd only glimpsed once before when she defeated him at the end of her Run so many years ago. But the pain present now ran deeper, older...guiltier...she'd never seen such a look in his eyes before, never knew Jareth to hold such an infliction. "...Jareth?" She asked suspiciously as he continued to slowly back away from her.
"Sarah...I'm so sorry...I know who took Lizzie...who's been interfering with the Wish Invocations. And I...," Jareth said in shaky voice and fear spiked through Sarah at his tone and culpable expression. She touched his hand and he flinched, pulling his hands to cover his face muffling his strained voice. "And I know why...it's my fault...they want revenge...against me."
"Revenge?" Her voice was a mix of apprehension and disbelief, "Who, Jareth, who?" She grabbed his hands yanking them from his face.
"Fiana and Cashel, I knew them in my youth. And I betrayed them." He said flatly; Sarah and Sal gasped while Alia only partially heard as she sat on Scarvy's naked chest staring at the detective's sleeping face in utter fascination.
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Cashel teleported home with his man,Rias; the latest Wish Invocation a complete disaster due to the Mortal law official arriving and mildly injured Rias with his hand weapon before forcing Cashel to use magic to defend himself. Cashel couldn't risk the Mortal's bullets striking him as the iron content might cause blood poisoning if all the fragments weren't removed, hence his willingness to risk using magic. He ground his teeth in frustration at the missed opportunity but at least his rather nasty spell would finish off the irritating officer leaving no trace for anyone to track, mundane or magic, once his body dissolved completely. Meanwhile, Rias's first visit once home would be the healer to have the two bullets removed.
Arriving in main hall of his family mansion turned fortress, Cashel released his hold on Rias once the teleportation spell ended and Rias stumbled off in the difference of the healer's quarters. Cashel watched his loyal retainer, one of many; leave his presence before walking towards his private quarters. He removed his mask and rubbed the back of his head where the Mortal struck him several times causing a great deal of pain; fortunately any injury would be healed by morning. Cashel vaguely wondered if Fiana's plans were near completion, she'd been gone several days tampering with that young Fae Princess and took his best retainer Gethin with her.
With that in mind Cashel changed directions from his quarters to Fiana's in the next hall stumbling across Gethin carrying that very Princess in his arms; she appeared awkward and as he approached them Cashel understood her physical position was frozen under a spell.
"Gethin, what happened? Why is the Princess here?" Cashel demanded and Gethin blanched, stopping in place and turning to find his Mistress. Fiana stepped from her private quarters, a smug expression radiating from her entire frame.
"I ordered her brought her, Cashel. I have use of her."
"What of her Heart Song?" Cashel walked up to Gethin getting a closer look at the young girl, her eyes wide and fearful, looking at him with dilated pupils.
Fiana sauntered to him, wrapping her arm around his waist and rested her head to his shoulder. "She's a bit young yet so I decided there could be other uses for her. Don't you agree?" Cashel knew that she wanted this Princess badly if she were willing to flirt with him. He wanted to strike her for ruining his own carefully laid plans. Jareth would never rest having the Princess returned...and yet...yes...he could use this, although it would greatly accelerate his plans he could still use this bold change to his advantage to gain both of their desires. Cashel draped his arm over Fiana's shoulders and pulled her snug against him, she didn't resist.
"Yes, Fi, well done! We can most assuredly use her. In fact, she can help complete my plans and we can both get what we've striven for these many centuries." Emboldened, Cashel kissed the crown of Fiana's head and his heart flipped when she allowed him.
"Excellent, Cashel! I'm so glad I could be helpful." She replied sweetly and Cashel thought he might faint, never before in five centuries had Fiana spoken to him in such loving tones. "When will you bring me Jareth?" And his stomach curdled at
HIS name but he resisted pushing her away while his voice hardened.
"As soon as I may, meanwhile, guard her closely, I want no mistakes. She's priceless." He ground out.
Fiana smiled and caressed Lizzie's hair as Gethin cradled her awkwardly in his arms. "Yes, she is and she will deliver unto me my Heart's desire." Cashel and Gethin both frowned at Fiana's words but she never noticed as she was absorbed in her fantasy. But Lizzie noticed and she screamed silently as the woman she believed her friend and savior plotted the capture of her second father and possibly her own demise.
"Gethin, take her to her new...room." Fiana coldly instructed while meeting Lizzie's eyes with an unnerving mix of worship and revulsion.
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"Jareth...Jareth," Sarah held his hands away from his face, offering moral support through physical contact but she had to know what he caused the kidnapping of her daughter, no matter how terrible. "Tell me what happened. What did you do?" Jareth crumpled to his knees, Sarah still holding his hands and moving with him. Sal stood several feet back allowing them privacy but close enough to listen while he glanced in Scarvy's direction every few minutes checking on his condition, he remained unconscious, then Sal suddenly remembered he still wore his latex gloves which were sweaty and stained and quickly removed them.
Jareth shivered as he allowed himself to remember a life he'd tried to forget, actions he'd tried to move passed, and guilty regret he'd never fully left behind regardless of how often he'd pretended. Finally, he looked into Sarah's conflicted gaze, his own begging forgiveness for withholding such a dreadful secret which repercussions affected Lizzie as he began his terrible story.
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"My parents were murdered just after I turned the age of fifty, an extremely young for Fae as were mature slowly—compare it to a Mortal child of perhaps ten, by a Fae couple desperately insane for their own child and willing to commit the most heinous of crimes to gain me. Fortunately, my loyal family retainers suspected foul play and intervened before the approval of the legal adoption by the Council. As I had no immediate family and the retainers possess too little magic to properly care for me, the Council appointed a guardian to care for me until I came of age to inherit my family's legacy. I was sent far from Camlann, my birth city, to the estate of the great sorcerer Caus vo Eirian where I grew to adolescence in strength, knowledge, and love from the great man. Upon my fifty-fifth year his grandson Cashel vo Eirian came to live with him as his parents were expanding their traveling merchant business and thought it best that Cashel have a stable environment during his emotional adolescence. As he and I were of an age, Cashel being several years my elder, we became fast friends, as close as any brothers and as competitive in our zeal for adventure. Constantly we challenged one another, bickered, laughed, and pushed the other passed any limits we set for ourselves so sure of our immortality and our everlasting friendship. Cashel's grandfather personally tutored us in the powerful magics we were heirs to and in this too we competed, always equal in our skills until one day my growth caught up with Cashel's greater maturity and I surpassed him. Initially, my superior magical ability seemed to please my friend and Near-brother but as my other physical abilities surpassed his as well he became distant and easy to anger. Yet our friendship remained strong as we both attained majority age of 100 years and inherited our estates. For a time, after I moved back to Camlann and as I learned the running of my estate, I lost touch with Cashel and his family but many years later he came to visit, our friendship as strong as ever. Cashel stayed with me at my family's estate for many years and we continued our adventures as young men of independent means, causing trouble and becoming the general nuisances so typical of young, audacious men of any species. We enjoyed every year of it without thought for the future for over two centuries. I would've willing continued on with our carefree ways but Cashel, being the elder, had other ideas and suggested philosophical traveling of the realm to find our true destinies. Being still considered a young man by Fae standards at 350 years of age the idea of extensive travel intrigued me and I readily agreed. If only I had been more cautious and declined my life would be so different. During our explorations we met a delightful young Fae woman by the name of Fiana Laric whose family's legacy and her own magical abilities were moderate but her beauty and charm surpassed any either Cashel or I ever knew before. She enchanted us, she teased us, she pitted us against one another and we adored her. Our all rivalry renewed and Cashel's anger came swift those days between us. At the time I thought little of how Fiana used her wiles to split us apart, I only knew how much I desired her and how much Cashel did as well. As is typical with Fae flirtations this tension persisted for several decades, as Fae are cautious in true commitment; Cashel gaining advantage then I, than Cashel again but neither of us truly winning Fiana's love. It wasn't for many years afterwards that I comprehended the pleasure she gained by teasing and torturing us but Fiana...she was...is a selfish woman, always desiring for herself first and only. Unfortunately, neither Cashel nor I understood this at the time for Fiana acted the perfect, classic, well-breed Fae lady and neither resisted too much or agreed too far in our attentions to her. It was well after my 400th year when things reached a culmination between the three of us. At first I believed that I'd won the Lady Fiana's love at last as she seemed truly smitten with me but in my arrogance I held back admission of my own feelings of love, for even then I had not admitted to her that I loved her. I suppose due to my parents' early death it created a difficulty in me in trusting to people's love and I often hold back in my own feelings until I am assured. Whatever the insecurity, after all those long decades and all the flowery courtship, I had yet to admit to Fiana my true feelings. And because of this she chose to marry Cashel when he declared himself and asked for her hand in marriage before me. His envy of me from old rivalries finally sated through his defeat of me in romance. The Lady Fiana preferred him; he said, loved him and agreed to be his wife in a year's time. A speedy engagement in Fae Society but they were eager to wed after so long a courtship. I wished them well, as a best friend is wont to do and privately seethed in jealousy and rage. She should've been my love, my bride. I could see how she looked at me, how she watched me when Cashel paid no attention. Months upon months passed as their marriage drew closer and my jealousy increased until sleep eluded me, food was ash, and all but the most rigorous exercise bored me. I tried staying away from them both, hoping it would alleviate my lovesickness but for months I pined for my stolen opportunity; for in my eyes Cashel stole my chance at true love and I owned no forgiveness for him. My self-inflicted exile ended a week before their marriage vows when I went to Fiana out of desperation to see if my feelings were returned or if I deluded myself that her love was stolen from me. I found her alone in the garden of Cashel's grandfather's home late in the afternoon and quietly approached her so that no others would know of my arrival. Fiana was surprised to see me after so long but not displeased. I asked her, implored her to tell me true where her love honestly lie because I loved her deeply, more deeply than Cashel could ever love her...that's what I told her. At my tearful confession Fiana flung her arms around me and cried saying that she'd always loved me not Cashel but doubted my love for her as I never revealed my heart to her. So when Cashel finally declared himself and proposed she felt she had no other choice but to accept since her family was of moderate magic and legacy. But she'd always preferred me over Cashel from the very beginning. My heart rejoiced and we kissed passionately. I asked her to elope with me that very moment and she agreed...her voice breathless, her eyes bright and hopeful. I had such hope for the future at that time; I saw the golden road of our life paved before us. She didn't even pack; she didn't have to as I could provide anything she might require and we ran straight from the garden. I took her to a private retreat I'd prepared, just in case, far from civilization so that we might become one without interference. I provided the most romantic environment, made sure that Fiana was given every comfort and the days flew by with our rapidly increasing ease in each other's presence. I was careful not to rush her, I wanted to court her but Fiana was just as eager as I to consummate our love so after several days...the day before her scheduled marriage to Cashel in fact...we spent the day making love. It was her first time with a man and she screamed both in pleasure and pain; I was cautious with her as I knew how difficult it can be for a woman the first time. We made love several more times over the next few days, each time more intense than the last and I felt that my heart and body were fulfilled at last. Which was why it shocked me so badly when during the last time I made love to Fiana, as she climaxed and I felt her spasming around me and I started to lose myself in the wondrous ecstasy of her body again, she began to Sing her Heart Song to me. I had not expected it, we'd not discussed it—as was common— and her Song filled my ears and my head but unexpectedly it did not fill my heart. As her Song and her climax washed over me I felt no desire to Sing my Song to her. Suddenly I felt empty, my own climax stunted, all physical desire for the woman beneath me fled even as she continued to pour her soul into me; I rejected it. I pulled myself from inside of her and away from her body, her Song still quavering from her lips as she bestowed upon me the most broken and pained looked any being has ever or will ever give me. She knew at that moment, she understood that I rejected her. Her Song would be unrequited from me and she would suffer the rest of her days without the ability to Love or be Loved. And still...I couldn't Sing to her. My heart was cold and I finally understood for myself that I never truly loved Fiana, that I only desired her because I could not have her. Cashel loved her, not I. He'd not stolen her from me because she'd never belong with me regardless that she loved me, I could not love her. Eventually, Fiana's Song reached its end and she stared at me with such fear and pain that to this day I cannot forgot her burning eyes. She said not a word to me as I ran nude from the room, guilt heavy on my soul and unable to bare her accusing eyes any longer. Gods Below, I ran as a coward runs, I fled from the scene of my betrayal and I heard Fiana scream. Whether at me, my actions, or at the terrible fate stretching out before her, I know not but I suspect it was a combination of all three because years later I felt the same terrible pain of the unrequited Heart Song. But my fate only lasted twenty years; Fiana's has lasted over 500 years. I didn't see either Fiana or Cashel again after that day. But I heard she returned to Cashel, whether or not they ever completed the marriage vows, I know not. I also heard that Cashel split from me and denounced me publically. I never faced him and refused numerous times to see him when he attempted to face me. For many years afterwards I hid myself away in my family's estate, not seeing anyone socially, until the pain of my guilt bore down on me so that I decided to seek out my own punishment. I knew of the current Goblin King's wish to step down from his post as he was an older Fae who tired of the position and hoped to find a willing person to accept such a distasteful post. Since becoming the Goblin King is such a reviled agreement for most Fae he was certain he'd not find a replacement for many years. However, it suited my needs perfectly. I could utterly and completely isolate myself from Fae society while providing a useful and necessary service that regular, upstanding Fae would never consider. I required punishment, I required penance. Becoming the next Goblin King unto my death would service nicely for a start. Little did I understand how lonely and obsessive I would become once the option for society was stripped from me. I also did not understand how much it would change my life or how much power I would gain in return. I knew the Goblin King was powerful compared to normal Fae magic but I truly had no concept of the level of magic at my disposal once I took control of The Labyrinth. It was unsettling to know my punishment was also a reward in a sense. And then I met Sarah and my world was turned upside down again. A/N:Thanks CSigh and Moira for the great reviews! And I agree Moira, magic is like technology and is no excuse for characters to stop using their brains. Makes for really boring stories. Magic needs to have rules and limits just like tech. Glad ya'll are enjoying Reaping!
