THE LABYRINTH CALLS...

The Labyrinth knows its own mind. The Labyrinth knows all that occurs within its boundaries, and thus is aware of when it is in danger. The Labyrinth is capable of summoning Runners on its own, without the power of the Goblin King. But when it happens to summon a Runner for not his, but its, own good, how will the Goblin King react?

~ * ~

"Dexter?"

Dex Collins bent over the model that stood partially built on his desk and adjusted a wing by a hair, doing his best to ignore his 5-year-old sister.

"Deeeex! Dexter? Dexxie! DEEEEXXXTEEEEERRR!!!"

"WHAT?" He finally looked up with a growl and a glare to match.

Mara cowered slightly, but then clearly decided on staying in her older brother's room instead of leaving. "I want a popsicle."

"Get it yourself, I'm kind of busy right now." He returned to building his model of a Winged Elf, from his favorite game 'Forts of Fardraft.'

"But the box is too high for me to reach, and Mom and Daddy aren't home yet..."

Dexter rolled his eyes. "I SAID I'm busy, Mara. Just wait for like an hour, okay?"

"An hour?!" His sister whined. "But I want one NOW."

"Well, guess what," the seventeen-year-old shot back, turning in his desk chair to aim a finger at her. "I want this elf model to be MAGICALLY complete and painted and ready for display right now. But that's not going to happen. I have to actually work on it myself. Me. No one else. I'm sure there's a chair out there or something, go get it and stand on it so you can reach."

Dexter's tone was pitiless. He went back to working on the elf, this time sanding with a bit of thin sandpaper.

Mara began to scream. "I... WANT... YOU... TO GET ME... A... POPSI--"

"MARA. GO AWAY BEFORE I MAKE YOU."

The five-year-old's eyes filled up with tears and she ran out of the room, bawling. "I hate you, Dexter!"

"Guess what, the feeling's mutual!" He shouted back.

Why did he have to have such a spoiled brat for a sister? Why had his parents decided to have another child at all? Things had been perfectly fine until Mara was born. Then, suddenly Dexter was expected to be a 'loving and responsible older brother' and wait on the kid hand and foot. Things still hadn't changed.

"Oh, she's your sister?" People on the streets would coo. "She's adorable! You're so lucky to have her!"

Well, right now Dexter would MUCH prefer to be sister-less. He would prefer to...

Oh, no, his hand slipped! He gave a growl of frustration and decided to call it quits on the model for the moment until he could calm down. Which he usually did by reading.

His eyes scanned his bookshelf, mostly comprised of sci-fi and fantasy books. Finally, he pulled down a book his father had given him. It was called 'Labyrinth.'

Winds whipped about an abandoned field, dying down as a being stepped through the space between one domain and the next, situating himself atop a hill that overlooked the barren landscape. It hadn't been like this before. Upon his last visit jays and larks had chirped merrily as they dove after pixies, looking to make a meal of the garden munching little pests, and the land had been a vibrant, healthy green filled with various grasses and trees and flowers. Now, however, as he surveyed the landscape, the Goblin King was given numerous reasons to frown as his all-seeing gaze took in the decaying state of this, one of the far reaches of his kingdom.

A resting pond was fast shrinking to the size of a puddle, it's sparkling waters now as muddied as its dried sides, and the grass had begun not burning away, but simply vanishing, leaving obvious patches of scarred earth behind.

The various array of birds that had inhabited this outer land had fled, looking for sustenance elsewhere as the outer-reaches of the kingdom continued to shrink inexplicably into themselves.

It had started some months before, a slow decay brought on out of nowhere, stemming from a source he couldn't discern. All the more worrying was the lack of similar distress coming from the neighboring Kingdom's who, instead of facing decay seemed to be facing a damnable abundance of good fortune. Bountiful harvests, an increase in productivity....He'd be damned if he were going to fall behind due to a setback that, in his mind, must have a simple (and surely reversible) explanation. And so Jareth had set out to systematically survey the damage that had been done to the outer-reaches, seeing how far inward it had spread over the past weeks.

With the flick of his wrist he caught a small transparent globe as it fell from nowhere in particular, summoned to his hand by a thought and pulled through the space between here and there by his need.

"Let us see what has fallen out of it's place," he cooed to the globe as he rolled it back and forth along his palm, the familiar motion far more comforting than he cared to admit. Surely a bit of decay hadn't upset the great goblin kind to the point that he was taking comfort in the feel of small magics. But ah that was the other conundrum, wasn't it?

Every now and again, Jareth would reach out to find the threads of energy that made up his magic dimming and brightening, their ebb and flow disrupted for no discernible reason. At any other time he'd have simply written it off as a ploy orchestrated by the Labyrinth in a childish attempt to draw his attention to it. It upon giving in and calling to it, only to find no answer, that Jareth had begun to realize the seriousness of the situation at hand. His power and his kingdom, for reasons he could not even begin to fathom, were slowly being taken from him.

Dexter had a habit of mumbling along to the text of whatever book he was reading. He lapsed back into that habit now without even realizing it.

"...dangers untold, and hardships unnumbered... here to the Castle Beyond the Goblin City... child you have stolen... will is as strong as yours... kingdom... great... You have no power over me."

Biting into a peach he had gotten from the kitchen earlier that day, he flipped the page and was just about to lay eyes on the first word there when Mara walked by his room, still sniffling--and saw the peach.

"DEXTER," she screeched. "You went to the KITCHEN without TELLING me?"

Her older brother winced as her voice rose to an incredibly high, agonizing pitch. "Mara, it was earlier today. It was like right after lunch--"

"You went to the kitchen without me!" Mara railed on, either not hearing him or deliberately choosing to ignore him. "AND you didn't get me my popsicle! I'm telling Daddy! I'm going to--"

"Shut UP!" Dexter finally lost his temper and stood so abruptly that the book flew off his lap and landed pages-down on the floor. "Quiet, you spoiled brat! I don't want to get you a popsicle. And from now on I am never getting you a popsicle or anything that you say you want! You hear me? Go ahead and tell 'Daddy.' I don't care. I'm through with you and your constant nagging and whining."

Mara had gotten very silent while her brother ranted. Now, she spoke up quietly, hesitantly, "B-but I just..."

"I wish you would just go away. Somewhere where you wouldn't bother me anymore!" Carried away, seized by a preposterous idea, he cried out, "I wish the goblins would come take you away right now!"

Running a hand over the globe, Jareth peered into its depths, watching smoke appear to swirl within it a moment before dissipating to reveal a scene that might have been amusing at any other time. However, as the Goblin King watched the scene playing out within the globe he was filled with little more than annoyance.

Though his will and purpose had indicated that the solution to his 'little problem' be presented to him, instead he gazed upon what was clearly anything but a solution. A boy munching on a peach without care (were such things not precious to humans?) as he lazed about with a familiar novel. Jareth froze as the globe focused itself, his vision of the scene fading to a single point as his eyes widened in surprise.

It could be said that few things ever surprised the Goblin King and these days, that was more or less true, as it had been before Sarah had graced the Labyrinth with her presence...that being a cruel lesson on the part of the childlike structure. Sensing his loneliness, his need for a companion, it had reached out toward the human world and found him what it had believed to be a suitable companion. Much to his own dismay it had been correct in its...presumption. With her fiery spirit and determination, Sarah had been very much his equal, had become his obsession as she ran the Labyrinth, besting each of his challenges...and then she had left him. By his approximation she should have understood, should have accepted him as her willing and adoring slave, should have feared and loved her and ruled at his side. Instead she had chosen the child, the brother she'd wished away, over him, leaving the Goblin King to nurse a wounded heart and contend with enough bitterness to make up for the lack of it in his bumbling subjects.

Seeing that book, the very book he had painstakingly taken the time to burn each and every time he saw it, that he had hunted for years with his crystals, frequently visiting the human world to ensure their demise...Jareth's hand tightened upon the smooth surface of the globe and he had half a mind to pitch it at the nearest shriveled corpse of a tree, but a series of words stilled his hand motion.

"I wish the goblins would come take you away right now!"

The words seemed to come from all around him rather than from the small confines of the globe itself and Jareth cursed aloud as his form began to shift in amongst the fast fading trees.

How long had it been since he'd been summoned to retrieve a child? Too long and yet, given the present circumstances, he couldn't understand the need for it now. He hadn't the time to oversee a runner, he had a kingdom to preserve! Yet he was helpless in that moment, prey to an ancient magic sealed by a pact that could be neither forgotten nor broken. He would go to the human world and take the child. It was his duty as the Goblin King.

-------------

Somewhere in suburbia, an owl perched on the roof of an ordinary looking house, cocking its head first to one side and then to the other before taking flight.

Mara burst into tears. Again. "Dexteeerr, you're so--!"

CRRCK-KOOOMM.

Dexter and Mara both jumped and turned to stare out of his bedroom window. "Thunder?!" Dexter exclaimed incredulously; it had been sunny only moments before, and the weather report had stated that it would remain that way throughout the week. What was--

Pssshsssshhhssshhh...

Raindrops began falling hard and fast outside the window, splattering against the glass and turning it into a veil of water. Dexter shook his head. Darn freak storms. But that was still weird; the climate in that area wasn't THAT unpredictable...

"Ghee-hee-hee-hee!"

Again, Dexter jumped, turning back around to face Mara. Why was she giggling like that all of a sudden? That wasn't like her...

But his younger sister was no longer there.

A worm of unease was wriggling its way down Dexter's neck. The sudden storm, that strange, high-pitched laugh... And now Mara was nowhere to be seen. What was going on?

Then he shook his head. Stop it, Dex, he scolded himself. You've been reading too many fantasy novels, that's all. It's a freak storm, Mara just ran off because she's being a baby about everything...

Klak.

One of his models just fell off the shelf. A shelf that Dexter had not been standing anywhere near...

And then the window latch undid itself, the window shot up, the screen popped out of its frame. All this at the same time. Rain began sheeting into Dexter's room, soaking the carpet, his desk, and the Labyrinth book that had previously fallen off his lap onto the floor.

"No, no!" He shouted, rushing forward to close the window. But that was when a freakishly strong gust of wind blew through the open window, tore around the room, threw the boy backwards onto the ground.

The wind whipped the rain forward, tearing at his feathers as he pushed through the shy, fighting toward a nearby window. Diving low under a tree he perched, granting himself a moment's respite. It was jusdt like that night, the night he'd met her. Sarah.

What would have been a growl had he not been in owl form turned into a shrill hoot that was lost between the wind and the thunder sounding overhead. He took flight once more, determined to make quick work of this. He hadn't the time for complications, the words formed in his mind, stretched outward toward the labyrinth, and were summarily ignored. Another angry hoot lost itself in the wind.

Waterlogged feathers beat against the windy currents, pushing him higher, higher, and for a moment the wind died down. Perhaps the Labyrinth had heard him, perhaps it had taken pity on him if not agreed with him (the thing was a damned child on the best of days). His breath caught on a dry thank you however, when the wind whipped up again, flinging a window open where the silhouette of a boy was shoved backward and Jareth himself was flung into the newly vacated opening.

Wings beating furiously, he barely managed to right himself before crashing into the rain soaked carpet. Having just barely managed to save face, he beat his wings once, twice for good measure, shaking off a bit of the water before willing his body to change, to morph into what he truly was rather than what he had chosen to be for the sake of normal travel in the human world. This boy would soon learn that few things were ever what they appeared to be at a glance.

And so he stood before the boy, his wet hair was buffeted by a light gust of air that appeared to dry it in seconds as he moved forward, his steps measured. One, two, three, pause.

Dragging his fingers across the space in front of him, he collected a small crystalline ball that just as surely hadn't existed there a moment before, rolling it easily over his palm.

"Don't bother looking for the girl," he began, eyes gleaming with barely disguised amusement as he took in Dexter's disheveled appearance. "She's already gone."

Dexter could not help his jaw dropping in shock as an owl half-soared, half-fell onto his bedroom carpet, then TRANSFORMED into a tall, wild-haired man. What was going on? Had he been reading too many fantasy books, playing too many games? Had his mind cracked from all of that?

"Wh-what do you mean?" He stammered out, slowly rising to his feet. "D-don't tell me... You're the King of the Goblins? From that book? It's just a book, though, it's just..."

He trailed off at the superior, mocking expression on the man's face. He made an obvious effort to regain his composure.

"So she's gone? Good. That means I can get back to my model... I can finally work in peace..."

He just needed to take in the situation in a calm light, didn't he? Once he rationalized everything, the man would go away. Mara would be back screaming about how unfair he was. Life would return to normal.

"You're not real," Dexter spoke to the supposed Goblin King boldly. "You're a figment of my imagination. I've spent too long reading, and playing video games, and I guess it's finally gotten to me. Now, I'm going to close my eyes, and count to ten, and you'll go away. My room will be back to normal. Mara will still be..."

He broke off, sighing and rolling his eyes. Maybe he didn't want that QUITE as much. Maybe it would be kind of cool to keep the figment here. No, no, he may be a fantasy-world-obsessed geek, but he DID value his sanity.

Dexter closed his eyes. "One... two... three... four...

"...Ten."

He opened his eyes with a deep breath.

The Goblin King was still there.

Slowly but steadily, fear, real fear, began to set in. "So Mara's... Gone? Like, really gone? You're not a figment of my imagination, I'm not crazy? But... I didn't think that... I didn't mean...! Where is she? How do I get her back?"

A rising tide of panic made his eyes widen. His parents would be coming home soon, they couldn't find Mara gone! And his sister herself, what was going to happen to her? Would she really... turn into a goblin?

Jareth cocked his head to the side, brows raised half in amusement half in question as the boy sought to reason him away. A figment of the imagination? The product of a game or a mad mind? As if he could be so simply cast aside. He was no delusion to be suffered by a fevered mind, and the sooner the boy came to that realization, the better.

Already Jareth longed to return to his kingdom, to return to his search for something, anything, that might set it back to its rightful state.

This boy was trying his patience with his incessant babbling about what could and could not possibly be, and when he mentioned the book Jareth couldn't help but smile, his smile edged with a hint of wickedness. A snap of fingers and the book landed in outstretched hands.

"Little is ever what is seems to be." Long fingers hovered over the pages of the book, flicking over them, pages turning without ever being touched, as though each was lifted in turn by a breeze that none but it seemed to feel.

The pages flipped by, one after another, display the texts and pictures that made up but one tale of his home...one of many, and yet of them this one had always bothered him. The pages flipped on depicting a familiar cadre of servants: a small, squat goblin with a can of spray caught mid-tottle on his way toward a bunch of pesky faeries, a large furred beast stopped mid-howl, a rock in the background. If the boy had read this, as he claimed, as he seemed to have (he did, after all, seem to know who Jareth was after getting over his initial bout of stupidity) then he would know them all.

Suddenly the Goblin King froze, a brief flash of something unreadable in his eyes as his fingers hovered over the painfully familiar figure of a girl. It was the one visitor who had bested him, the one who had refused to remain in his Kingdom. He would have reordered the stars for her, had reordered time for her, the one who would never be...his Sarah.

Snapping the book shut rather violently, Jareth returned to the present. He'd only been half paying attention to Dexter's ramblings as he reached ten and opened his eyes.

"Yes, yes, I'm still here and your sister is still gone. So very surprising, isn't it?" His tone was dull and uninterested, annoyance creeping in at the edges. He would rather spend as little time in this world (in her world) as possible.

"If you've read this, which I'm going to assume you have from your earlier outburst" he replied to the other's question, holding the book out between thumb and forefinger, "then you already know where she's gone, and as for how to get her back, you'll need to run my Labyrinth." He paused, another smirk tugging at his lips as the familiar thrill that came just before a challenge rushed him. He hadn't had a runner since Sarah, perhaps this would put his mind to rest regarding that silly girl. Perhaps it was time after all.

Stepping back, Jareth conjured another crystal, letting it roll smoothly over his fingers as he turned his hand over again and again. "I trust you know the rules."

Without another word, he let the crystal drop from his hand and shatter, resulting in a brilliant flash. When it cleared, Dexter would find himself before that which, until now, he had only read about, and he would be expected to find his way to the center without aid.

"AIUGH!" Dexter yelled out in shock, throwing his hands over his eyes to shield them from the blinding flash of light. Soon enough, though, it dimmed, and he was able to lower his arms. Only to find himself somewhere that was definitely not his room.

"The Labyrinth," he breathed, gazing down at it from where he stood upon a high, yet relatively flat hill. Sparse patches of grass grew here and there, and a dead tree, its limbs devoid of leaves, stood to the side of him. Other than that, there was no sign of life on that hill except for himself.

Dexter took a deep, shuddering breath. He felt anxious, frightened, yes, but also... something else.

He felt excited.

After all, this was the first time anything like this had ever happened to him. At school he had nobody to call friend, at home his parents worked all the time, and Mara was... Mara. All the video games and fantasy or sci-fi novels in the world couldn't fill the void that he felt, that he tried to hide... the feeling that he was just living, just existing. No opportunity to prove himself ever happened.

Until now.

"I'm coming, Mara," he whispered, starting down the hill towards the Labyrinth's outer wall. But perhaps what he really meant to say was, 'I'm coming, Self.'