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Chapter Twenty-Four
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Scarvy's wide-ranging life experience encompassed numerous things: from classic literature to tornado chasing. However, riding on the back of a flying Gryphon fell under the category of decidedly new and moderately terrifying. Scarvy's gloved fingers entwined with a leather harness where Xerare's pale bronze feathers met fur at the nape of the Gryphon's neck, and Scarvy bent further forward to reduce wind resistance. His body undulated with each powerful down stroke of Xerare's wings. Scarvy glanced over at their formation of Gryphons: Lizzie rode Lady Fena, Alia rode the iridescent, black Yoon while the other four Gryphons, Noe, Xore, Ersa, and Eray flew alone following Fena's lead.
'How the hell did I get talked into this?' Scarvy thought to himself for the zillionth time during their flight. Never a fan of heights, Alia's overjoyed face flashed in his still queasy memory at Fena's suggestion that they fly to Camlann that night since Lizzie's magic lacked strength to teleport all ten of them—including the Gryphons. Once Alia's cerulean eyes sparkled at the thought of flying again Scarvy quickly comprehended his lack of choice in the matter. He couldn't very well chicken out in front of his girl nor deny his love an opportunity to soar again. Hence his currently gritted teeth and clenched fists.
Meanwhile, Hoggle was left behind at the castle. Hoggle swore to Lizzie he and Ludo would keep Rendor and his troops secured until her return. And since the reality of getting Hoggle on the back of a Gryphon without a death threat was obvious, it made him the most likely choice to stand guard and stay in her good graces.
"I will never do this again!" Scarvy promised himself aloud knowing very well that one pleading look from his love equaled his cratering. Scarvy glanced at Alia sitting upright on Yoon, one arm raised in triumph while her sleek brown, leather clad legs gripped the Gryphon's torso. Born to fly, the former pixie looked exhilarated, her blue hair streaming behind her and a grin splashed across her face. Her bright eyes met his edgy ones and she winked while he shivered— thank God the flight took only a few hours into the late night of the second day.
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Utter chaos ruled Camlann Complex since the debacle yesterday involving the Goblin King and Queen. The power vacuum caused by Tignach's untimely death created anarchy within the Council. Several more Council members died due to infighting; their bodies joining Tignach's gory remnants littering the dais and surrounding area along with the prisoner Cashel's, as no one wished to confront the appalling mess, with or without magic. The majority of the sorcerers did not survive Sarah's power backlash, and their corpses lie scattered and rigored on the chamber floor. Dozens of civilians, injured as part of the escaping mob, lingered near the Complex entrance seeking medical assistance or other aid throughout that night and the next day. It leant a refugee-like air to the normally proper and organized environment, and still no clear leadership as previous challenges resulted in death putting all on edge.
Finally, late in the second day after Sarah leapt through the maw; a sorcerer left alive, but severely injured was able to close the Void ending its destructive influence. Its overextended breach caused all manner of damage to the immediate magical fabric of the Underground realm: increasing physical and psychological damage to residents, destabilizing magical abilities, and causing undue hysteria to all nearby. This single feat did more to improve the atmosphere of despair in the Complex than any other, as the Void's natural tendency to draw upon one's fears increased the residents' anxieties and caused all manner of physical manifestation of said fears. Once closed the violence and disorder could gradually be put to rights, but not without a great deal of time and effort.
By his virtue of enforced meekness, Councilman Randoly escaped the earlier wrath of the vicious Council after Tignach's death. He watched in horror as Councilwoman Severin brutally engaged several other Council members in duels eventually ending their lives, including hers. Part of him cried out to stop the meaningless brutality—this was not the way the Council chose a successor, but his more rational mind sensed something darker at work, something outside of their control and kept him silent. His silence saved his life. Once the Void maw ceased to influence the Council peace and order began to reestablish naturally. Only he and a few Council members survived the upheaval, and none wished to speak of leadership roles at the present lest they be reminded of their near deaths. It was suggested an early retirement to their quarters was in order to delay addressing the delicate matter on the morning of the third day of chaos.
Randoly staggered to his personal quarters late the night of the second day, every muscle and brain cell aching from the stressors of the last forty-eight hours. He hoped to never witness such violence again. Since the beginning he felt the Council's act against the Goblin Kingdom was a mistake, but the ramifications cut deeper than he—or any other—could've known. Running a shaking hand through his tangled hair, Randoly pushed through the entrance to his chambers with his other while his ceremonial sword clattered against the thick, wood door as he passed through. A muttered curse slipped from his lips as he gave an irritated glare to the impediment slung at his hip. Roughly he slipped the gilt encrusted leather baldric over his head and flung it, with its attached scabbard and sword, onto a nearby couch before slumping into his chair behind his master desk.
What the seven hells had he gotten involved in? Randoly pressed the heels of his hands to his tired, itching eyes. He only ever wished to forward the needs of the Underground residents. How did it come to this? This travesty...this twisted version of justice. As Maruel Randoly sank his elbows to his desk in support of his head, he noticed a new object that did not belong—a crystal orb emitting peaceful vibes sat innocently in the center of his neatly organized workspace. A classic white flag begging to be picked up, interesting...
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She fell. Due to the lack of any light, she sensed rather than saw the walls of the elevator shaft speed past her faster and faster. An irrational fear babbled in her mind...what if she struck one of the walls? Followed by the inevitable question...what waited for her at the bottom? Sarah kept her eyes pinched closed preferring the black of her eyelids as the falling vertigo swirled around her twisting, limp body. What was happening to her? This falling...would it never end?
'Sarah...' The voice in her head returned, stronger, louder and she felt her body slow its previously unimpeded descent. Some outside force acting its will upon her until she gradually ceased to fall and merely floated.
'
Sarah, open your eyes.' "Who are you?" she asked, keeping her eyes closed tightly and using her hands and feet to quest about her surroundings. She felt nothing but the sensation of free floating.
'
A friend.' The voice insisted and an accompanying spark of warmth spread throughout her body. This stranger in her head seemed the only constant in her frightening world. Sarah opened her eyes. A kaleidoscope of fractured colors assaulted her vision; every possible combination detectable to her eyesight. She flinched and threw her arms up to protect her face causing her body to tumble backwards head over heels. After several minutes she opened her eyes again, slowly, allowing them to adjust to the scintillating rainbow.
'
That's good, Sarah, keep your eyes open and relax.' "You're kidding right? How am I supposed to relax?" The voice chuckled softly before it began a low humming which echoed between her ears. Sarah screamed as the guiding being slammed into her mind; a burning pain sliced her apart to her foundation then reformed her anew in seconds lasting eons.
"Labyrinth?" Sarah said, hesitantly, clutching her throbbing head in her hands.
'Yes, Sarah!' Labyrinth answered with obvious excitement and relief.
"I...oh, gods...I remember..." she said, moaning in pain as the onslaught of her real life crystallized. "We're still in the Void?" She asked, scanning the fluxing colors surrounding her unfettered body.
'
Yes.' "And Jareth?"
'Trapped within his fears...as you were.' "In the Void," she replied flatly, "Wonderful."
'Be grateful I was able to connect with your consciousness and reestablish the protection innate with your Fae magic; it was difficult. Your fears are...extensive.' Labyrinth stated rather bluntly.
"Thanks, Labyrinth, everything seemed so real, so frightening," she replied sincerely.
'The Void's purpose is to keep the many realms separate; any beings that find their way into the Void without protection are subject to its psychological manipulation. The scenarios require extreme realism based on the host mind's concept of reality.' "Yeah, I kinda noticed."
"I'm sorry I was unable to reach you sooner." If Labyrinth could sound repentant then Sarah heard regret in its usually neutrally toned voice, and it pricked her eyes with tears.
"You did your best. If I hadn't been so stubborn about ignoring you..."she trailed off as she basked in the internal glow of Labyrinth's ever powerful presence in her soul, "But now we need to locate Jareth and free him as well before we can get home," she finished in a stronger voice then added. "We can get home, right?"
"Locating him will be simple as I can still sense him through our previous Bond now that we are psychically linked again. And I sense no weakening in our powers, teleportation through the Void should be normal." "Good, but how can you sense him without his magic?"
"It is irrelevant due to our reinforced Bond during the Solstice; I will always know where either you or he are." "Oh."
"However, freeing him from his own mind will be more difficult as I cannot enter his consciousness as I can yours. You will have to do it, Sarah." "Oh, gods...what horrors is he living?"
"
You are strong and I will be with you, but he will only see and hear you. You will
free him." The confidence in Labyrinth's tone filtered into Sarah's mind like warm honey. She took a deep, fortifying breath and thought of Lizzie who needed her parents whole and happy.
"Take me to him." Labyrinth silently obeyed and teleported Sarah from her present position in the Void to Jareth's physical location some immeasurable distance apart. Minutes later she materialized before his drifting form in the shimmering, iridescence surrounding them on all planes.
"Jareth!" she cried out reflexively upon seeing him only feet away. Jareth appeared unconscious, slumped, inert, and did not react to his name or her voice. His lank hair partially hid his slack face and as Sarah propelled herself closer she noticed that even his eyes lacked movement beneath his lids—as if in a deep coma or vegetative state. In a flash of fear she checked his neck for a pulse, releasing a ragged sigh of relief with she found one, extremely rapid but present.
"Thank God!"
"He lives, but his fears grip him cruelly." "We have to hurry; how do I do this?" she asked in a rush.
"Secure yourself to him physically." Sarah conjured a rope which she used to tie their torsos together before she wrapped her legs around his waist for her own comfort.
"Touch your forehead against his and place your mind into a meditative state. It may take time, but you must gain total peace before you can contact his psyche." "Total peace, always with total peace, geez, I hate meditation," she replied in disgusted determination as she positioned her head to Jareth's, her hands held his in place.
"Sarah..." "Don't say it, this will be my quickest drop into meditation yet just don't talk to me until you know I'm inside." She groused back before Labyrinth chastised her. She certainly didn't need a mystical being telling her how important achieving Zen states were in order to save her love. Still didn't change the fact she lacked any real skill at it. Labyrinth wisely kept its response to itself as it observed its queen's indomitable will to relax.
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"He's not going to show." Lizzie said with huff.
"Give him more time. It's early." Scarvy replied confidently as he glanced at the cresting dawn silhouetting a few of the reposing Gryphons.
"We've been up here for hours."
"Lizzie," Alia said approaching Scarvy from the direction of the sun, "Have faith. At the very least his curiosity will overwhelm him if his good sense does not."
"I will be most surprised if he does not accept the truce. He will recognize it for what it is," Lady Fena said, her morning preening ritual paused. Fena's bathing reminded Lizzie of their late night air passage and how disheveled she felt and must appear. How wonderful a real bath sounded!
"Where in the Underground am I?" A surprised and rather exasperated masculine voice exclaimed a short distance behind Lizzie. She spun in place, schooling her visage to face her guest as the rest of her party brought themselves up smartly.
"Councilman Randoly," Lizzie stated assertively, walking closer to the startled man holding her crystal of truce tightly in his fist. "I am Goblin Princess Elizabeth Morton." Randoly blinked once before arching a brow over his now blank face. Scarvy and Alia flanked Lizzie with serious expressions while Lady Fena presented herself in her full sitting height. The rest of her small pride stayed in repose at a distance for the present, no need to stop the Councilman's heart.
"I know who you are," he replied, looking casually at their odd location and her assemblage of personal. "Why are we on the Complex roof and why am I surrounded and alone if you offer truce?" he said in a mildly threatening tone, indicating her crystal with a tilt of his hand. Randoly being an intelligent man with strong magic of his own understood the wisdom of presenting a good offense; however, one did not unduly offend Gryphons without serious risk to one's life.
"My apologies for the unorthodox manner of gaining an audience with you," Lizzie replied with no hint of real apology, "Desperate times and desperate measures as they say."
Randoly cocked his head to one side, "I'm not familiar with that saying, but..." he paused for several beats, Lizzie and her group patiently waiting him out, "given the reality of the last two days I can surmise its meaning, especially for you." He added the last in a softer, almost sympathetic tone. Lizzie caught a look of regret flashing quicksilver in his eyes, but he moved his view from hers before she could be certain. Lady Fena's estimation of Randoly appeared closer to the mark than Lizzie first believed. Chancing his trust, Lizzie stepped up to him until only a few feet separated them. He could easily take her hostage if he so chose. His widened eyes told her he understood her intent.
"Councilman Randoly, I see in your eyes and hear in your voice a man uncertain of his choices. You know what has been done to the Goblin King and Queen," she said before adding with a twinge of plaintiveness, "my parents are missing and I know nothing. Two days prior a Council force lead by Captain Rendor was sent to my home to kidnap me after my parents' departure."
"
What?" Randoly exclaimed, the crystal dropping from his hand to bounce once on the stone roof before shattering, "Tignach, you utter and complete bastard!" He ground his teeth, disgusted by the former High Councilman's limitless corruption.
"Who is Tignach?"
Having forgotten the princess for the short time Tignach obsessed his thoughts, Randoly refocused on her wide-eyed, anxious face. But before he could answer Lady Fena spoke.
"He is the High Councilman, most corrupt, I fear."
"
Was, he was the High Councilman," Randoly corrected the Gryphon and all persons zeroed on him with fixated expectation. "There's quite a bit I should explain to everyone that goes beyond the King and Queen," he said then addressed Lizzie personally. "Princess, I'm willing to remain here and I swear I will tell all that I know. Will you swear to uphold your truce for my safety regardless of what you learn?"
"You will come to no harm while in my presence, this I swear, Councilman Randoly," Lizzie proclaimed and presented her hand for him to fast. He gripped it tightly with his own.
"Well then, there is much to tell and little time to spare."
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Eventually Sarah opened her eyes to absolute black desolation. Purple tinted sky roiled with black clouds mirroring the coarse black sand beneath her feet. The limitless horizon stretched beyond her vision without change and swallowed her involuntary gasp.
"Labyrinth, where is he? There's nothing here," she said, spinning around hoping to find any minute variation.
'There,' it indicted a direction in her mind and Sarah froze. In the far, far distance a pinprick moved. Heaving a resigned sigh, she began her journey with the famous first step—Jareth's nightmare
would mimic her long hike through his Labyrinth, except this time the maze was his own mind and the prize his sanity.
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Darkness embraced the chamber like a sullen lover, cold and relentless in its punishment of any light. Jareth's eyes long ago adjusted to the saturnine layer coating the air like paint unable to completely dry. How he came to be in the perverted bowels of his castle he knew not. His last memory of drowning beneath his betrayed, putrefying inhabitants looping in his mind, their shrieking howls piercing his ears...except for her...for Sarah. Her single accusation burned his soul. Forsake, forsake, forsaken, why, why, forsake me,
Sarah...
Jareth recognized the portion of the dungeons he currently called home. Even the pitch could not hide the irony of Cashel's former cell. After so many centuries as Goblin King he knew every cranny of his castle as if they were the inside of his eyelids. By smell alone he identified his location, although something perverse twisted the scent. He knew he lie supine near the iron bars of the door; it made his skin itch but fatigue kept him still. Fatigue and denial, perhaps if he remained motionless he might wake from this nightmare. The vengeful creatures might pass over him, giving him up for dead.
"No more hiding, Jareth."
Or not. Sarah's bloody, rotting face appeared outside the bars, illuminated by a garish, green light from her body. Reaching through the flaky, rusted bars, her skeletal hand brushed his shoulder; he flinched at the shock of pain as her sharp fingers cut into his flesh. He tried to shift away silently, but she dug in tighter.
"No, no, my love, no shirking your responsibilities to me," she said before adding a high pitched cackle.
"Please, I'm sorry," he answered trying to meet her inhuman gaze without cringing but failing.
"Am I so displeasing to you now?" Sarah unlatched the iron bar door, swinging it open. Large hunks of crumbling rust detached and powdered on the stone floor, all reflected in the eerie green glow of Sarah. She swept into the cell with him, locking the door behind her, her tattered black dress disturbing the dusty floor.
"Can you no longer love me as I am?" she asked with false sweetness. Jareth turned his face away shamefully.
"Please do not ask me such things!" he replied with a deep sob. Too see his Sarah so destroyed by him. What had he done? Why could he not remember?
"Why do you love me no longer? Why have you forsaken me?" The grotesque parody of his love hounded him as she hovered over his supine body; her green light bathing his and hellishly brightening the small cell.
"Sarah, my love, please..." he begged, humiliation burned him. "I love you, how could I ever cease loving you?" he declared, "But I know not what I've done." Using every shred of willpower remaining, Jareth sat upright and forced himself to hold steady her concentrated gaze. She crouched down to his eye level.
"Prove yourself faithful," she demanded, her green eyes oozing strange fluids, thick unlike any tears. Nodding, Jareth reached out and touched her sunken cheek with the barest tip of his fingers.
"As my Queen wishes," he replied, pouring his love and heartache into the four words whispered passed his parched lips. She grinned and black, clotted blood poured passed her lips in return.
"Kiss me, my King." And he did so without hesitation tasting the rancid, metal tang of her blood as it filled his mouth, slithered along his throat, coated his stomach, and choked his lungs. Still he did not pull away as Sarah consumed him.
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"You've got to be kidding me," Sarah said gaping at the immense, crazed version of the Goblin Castle gradually looming ahead as her dogged trudging brought her ever closer. "Seems Jareth always leads me back to his Castle at the center of the Goblin City one way or another, can you say one track mind?"
"Do not be fooled by repetitive symbols. His mind is exceedingly complex, but all sentient beings find comfort in the familiar. Jareth is no different." "Comfort, fear: it's all the same source material."
"Correct." "Since when are you an expert on sentient beings outside yourself?"
"Since I've studied the Fae for centuries and know humanity by your benefit, quite intriguing and so easy to manipulate." "Please, don't tell me anymore. Allow me some illusions about you," she pleaded wearily as she walked the last bit of distance to the castle entrance: the great double doors leading to the mockery of her home.
"As you wish." Staring at the blackened wood doors for several minutes, Sarah finally squared her shoulders and shoved open the doors with a grand creak which echoed in the entrance hall. No one to greet her, just vast emptiness...Sarah wandered slowly up the grand staircase towards the throne room. Stillness ruled so that her ears rang with it; she feared speaking aloud, that the air might shatter. She kept her footfalls so light against the stone that when she first entered the throne room they didn't immediately notice her. But her alarmed gasp quickly muffled by her hand slapped over her mouth did alert them, and numerous decayed, desiccated, and deformed faces swung in her direction. Oh gods...was that Hoggle?
She ran; she spun about and she ran. She heard the horde scramble after her, their shuffling and moaning reverberating in the castle. Tempted to escape out the front entrance, Sarah resisted as she knew Jareth must be somewhere inside, and instead sped deeper into the castle heedless of her direction. Her only thought to flee the zombified versions of her citizens and friends, freeing herself to search for Jareth. Rationally, a small portion of her mind suspected they could do her no harm as they were Jareth's fears not her own, but not a hypothesis she preferred to test. Panic kept her running at full speed through darkened, deserted hallways.
Eventually, their horrific sounds faded and Sarah risked resting, her back pressed against a wall as she gulped deep, ragged breaths. Once she evened her respirations and her adrenaline dropped, she realized she stood near the Power Orb chamber. Shivers of memory crept over her skin.
"It has been several years since you bested me, Sarah." Labyrinth sounded a tad put out.
"You were pissed off for a long time, took you months before you'd even speak to me without a direct command."
"Yes, I remember." "Have I...have I done well by you, Labyrinth? You know I did what I thought I must." Oddly enough, she never believed before this year that she might feel true regret for imprisoning this unique being again. But their enforced relationship matured quickly through this recent strife and Sarah grew to know Labyrinth as never before.
Labyrinth seemed in sigh before speaking,
"You have done as you thought best, and I have no complaints. As my present Queen, you have shown me experiences I knew nothing of and I cannot disparage that or you." "Thank you."
"Of course, my Queen."
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Jareth felt his mind fracture and separate from his body as the specter of his Sarah raped his body and soul. His gave no defense nor resisted her attacks. He allowed her whatever pleasures or pain she desired. Never could he refuse his Sarah before and he could not do so now. He accepted his punishment for his crimes, whatever they may be; knowing his love for her outshone any hate she engendered for him.
Her cold body encompassed his in every manner possible, inside and out. Her rotten blood mixed with his as he drowned, lived, and drowned again. Her nude form straddled his motionless one while her mind invaded his, pushing him into catatonia. And still he did not fight. It was his Sarah and she demanded proof of his love, of his faithfulness. Whatever she asked of him, demanded, commanded he gave and allowed her to take until but a shell remained.
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I love to hear from everyone! Hope you're enjoying Reaping! Jinx
