In the Eyes of the Queen [ Labyrinth ] ✔

Chapter Seventeen

For almost a week, I spend my mornings learning rudimentary magic from Jareth. When he retires to his study, or the throne room, or some other place of duty, I explore the castle, venture into Goblin City, wander the castle grounds and nearer parts of the Labyrinth, and read in the library. I finish each day with supper with Jareth and then spend too long in the steaming pool that serves as a bath before falling into an empty bed. I quickly learn to request darker colored clothing—the air itself seems dirty, dulling bright colors and dirtying light ones—but never ask for a replacement for my nightshirt, though I consider stealing another one since Jareth's scent is beginning to fade from it. He still "accidently" sleeps elsewhere, so the sheets are losing his scent as well. (He smells of charcoal and wood smoke and damp earth and crisp air—if that can have a smell.) I wonder how Jareth keeps his clothes so clean-looking. I wouldn't be surprised if the answer was "magic."

Tentatively, I let Jareth observe my already established relationship with the goblins. He says nothing, but I think that he already knew. I risk asking to see my friends, and I am relieved to hear his acquiescence, so my afternoons become even busier.

It is growing close to the end of my vacation time in the human world, and I know I have to return soon in order to not be missed.

"As one gains greater control over their power, it will not need to revert to the subconscious desires in order to find an outlet," Jareth explains once again, but continues with a new idea. "Despite the unexpected speed with which you are learning, it will take longer than you want for you to have enough power to independently translocate from the Underground." For that, apparently, is what the whole of this land is called. "I think our best course of action is that I take you. The resistance should not be so strong since you have learned some control. If I go with you, you will not have that desire interfering," he smirks at me, "and if you plan on the trip being temporary, and tell yourself that it is a need—though it is a need for others and not yourself—you should be able to manipulate yourself into returning home."

We decide to wait a day or two—a day or two of magic practice—before trying.

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The sun is low in the sky and I sit in Jareth's study in the waning light, my feet propped up on a now paperless desk. The layer of dust in the room has magically disappeared and several of the books have traded places. The cleanliness and organization are courtesy of my magic lessons. Jareth has taken a rare day away from his usual duties. I chuckle at a few of the books that have made their way to Jareth from the human world.

I nod toward several familiar books on his desk. "Where did you get those?"

"The goblins."

"The goblins gave you books?"

"The goblins steal things, Sarah, without caring much what they are stealing."

I wonder if the Goblin Kingdom is the land of the lost and lonely because the things have been stolen, or if the things are stolen because they are lost and lonely.

Deciding to direct the conversation away from my unspoken question and back to my original thought, I nonchalantly comment, "Goblins make great couriers as well as great thieves."

Jareth honors the statement with a turn of his head and one arched eyebrow but says nothing. He is, by far, intelligent enough to understand my meaning without having to say it aloud. After a moment of consideration, Jareth returns his gaze to the Labyrinth. I look away from the penultimate intrigue of the maze and resume my unabashed study of Jareth's features and expression.