Advent, part 3
Rating: M [cumulative] for: angst, childhood injury, bad language, sexuality, violence & gore. (Please note that most of these appear later on in the fic. Reader discretion is advised.
Thanks so very much to knifeedgefic for the super-speedy beta, and, as well, to lightup_tea and for their feedback.
Cross-posted at Labyfic. [nb: Labyfic mods - if this ain't permissible, shoot me an message pls.)
Advent
Part 3
*I thought a lot about what Sarah had done, over the rest of the winter. I mean, skiing was kind of fun, really. The idea of being able to fly past her over the snow-covered golf course where we had gone in December … I liked that idea.
Also, Jareth had said that we would run again. I had to be ready for that.
That’s why for the rest of seventh grade and starting in eighth, I started running in the park and around my block. I would get up pretty early to do it so nobody would see, at least at first. Then it got less and less difficult (although, don’t take me wrong, the first month was awful), so I switched to the afternoons. Jareth was right: it was all about practice.
You’d think that I’d lose like fifty pounds overnight and become, I don’t know, Justin Timberlake or something. Nope. I actually put on more weight, which was totally unfair. The doctor looked really stumped but said it might be muscle.
I didn’t really care. I just wanted to show Jareth how far I could run, and Sarah how fast I could ski, this next winter. And I wanted to get into eighth grade Honors English. I got in the habit of touching a bit of the design Sarah painted on my door frame, for good luck - but maybe I should have touched more of it, or the one around her door as well, because only two-thirds of my wish came true. I got into Honors English, no prob, but then there was a warm front and it didn’t snow at all for the first two weeks of December. Mom said I could ski next year - and it turned out Sarah was off to Europe with Bill, anyway.
It was a bit of a bummer, all around, but I still felt better than I had a few years ago. The calendar appeared on my desk the last night of November. I found the four doors I knew - mother-of-pearl, red and gold, starry blue, green leaves - and lay awake in bed, wondering when he would come back.
*
When Jareth did come back, he scared the hell out of me.
(Yeah, the swear jar, but being a teenager came with few privileges, like a later curfew - I wished - and I thought cursing should be one of them.)
Anyway, I don’t think he meant to scare me personally. I couldn’t figure it out.
I woke up to the shimmering light that would always be magical, no matter how many times it unrolled down my wall. This door was all the colors of the rising sun, getting brighter and brighter yellow and orange and red all together, until I had to cover my eyes.
When I opened them, there was Jareth, glaring at me.
It made me want to run under the bed and hide. Even when I quick looked over my shoulder and realized he was staring at the door of my room, I was freaking out. I thought for one wild minute that he knew about that weird dream I had about him whispering (which I had almost managed to forget, thank you very much) … but, seriously, my door?
He looked like he wanted to chop it up with an axe, or kill it, or something.
I said, “Hey -” but my voice cracked big-time, which made me want to crawl under the bed even more.
Jareth’s eyes flickered. He shook his head a bit, and smiled, but it looked like it was wrong, somehow. “Ah, Toby. My apologies; I was … distracted.” His eyes went around the corners of the room, flick, flick, flick. “How are you?”
“I’m O.K.” I drew my knees up to my chest. “What’s going on?”
He shrugged, and magic’d up some crystals. “Nothing,” he said, low, except his hands were moving all stiff and jerky, which was not normal. Then he dropped a crystal; it shattered and he said something long and snarly, and I don’t know if magical Kings have swear jars, but htat must’ve been a dollar at least.
“Wow. What does that mean?”
Jareth was looking at the floor, his face like white stone. “It’s from a dead language.”
“Like Latin.” This visit wasn’t really going like the others had; I felt kind of uneasy, but remembered what Mom had told me. With trouble talking, remember three “F’s” - family, friends, feelings, not finances -
“Your family all right?” I wanted to kick myself as soon as I had spoken, because -
Jareth snorted. “I have no family.”
“Oh, sorry - I thought you might have had a rough day, maybe, and I - um - just wanted to - say something?”
“Ah.” He made the other crystals vanish. Then he sank down onto my desk chair, and looked a bit tired. “My apologies, young Toby. Forgive me?” He quirked an eyebrow.
“No worries.” I got out of bed. “I’ve wanted to show you my running forever - I think I’ve gotten a lot better at it.”
Jareth slapped his gloved hands on his knees, and stood back up. “Let us go, then, you and I.”
We went through the door together, to the Labyrinth. I had left my sneakers on in bed every day of December, to be ready for my visit.
*
The next year I got even better at running, except I had to take more breaks. The thing is: I started getting taller and taller. The ache in my shins actually made it hard to sleep and harder to run. But I tried to swim at Dad’s health club instead, once in a while. When Sarah came home for December and saw how much I’d grown she faked a fainting fit. Then she grinned and hugged me tight.
I was glad to see her smile. From what she had said on the phone, at different times, things had been a bit rough for her - especially with her nasty break-up. So she took some personal leave from work and came home for all of December, not just Christmas.
I overheard her and Mom talking, one night, when I was supposed to be finishing my World Lit homework in the dining room. Sarah said she and Bill were over because he wanted kids and she didn’t.
“At least,” she said, quiet, “not yet.”
“But honey, why on earth not?” my mom said, all dramatic; seriously, she sounded like someone from a soap opera. “You would make a wonderful mother.”
Sarah laughed a tight little laugh. “I don’t think so.”
“Oh, Sarah, that was a long time ago -”
“No, not that. I just mean …” she sighed. “I just don’t want kids right now. It’s not a good time.”
“And Bill can’t wait?”
Silence. Then: “I guess not.”
I couldn’t help but think there was more too it, but it could have been because my mom isn’t exactly the Queen of Subtle. I’d bet ten bucks she wanted a grandkid - well, a step-grandkid - to dress up and show off to the neighbors. Just as well Sarah wasn’t going along with it, because there’s no way I wanted to be Uncle Toby in only ninth grade.
*
About a week before Christmas, Jareth strode through a door of shimmering green and blue light - like a door from Atlantis shining underwater. This year I had tried to guess when he would come. I had thought back over his other visits, and I realized that there was no real pattern to the dates. I don’t think there had ever been the same one, twice, but the familiar doors - five of them, now: pearl, red-and-gold, starry sky, green leaves, sunrise - jumped all over the place on the calendar so I couldn’t be sure.
“It’s never number twenty-four, though,” I told him, climbing up one of the Labyrinth’s walls. “Why not?”
Jareth hissed under his breath, adjusted his handhold, then hoisted himself up and slid onto the top of the wall in one smooth motion. Not fair.
“That door is a special one.” As he dusted off his gloves, he spoke. “It signifies the end of Advent - that ancient time of expectation - with the arrival of a promised child, a long-expected visitor, that which makes Christmas Eve silent night, holy night, et cetera.” He smiled, lopsided, down to where I craned my neck to see him. “That door would be the last door for me personally. Though if you don’t want me to return -”
“No!” I scuffled my feet around to find one last sticking-out rock and then scrambled to the top in a rush. “No, seriously - this is awesome. It gets better every year.”
I was looking out over the Labyrinth, all silver and magic in the moonlight. It was so cool that it made my throat close up. I coughed, pretending to have breathed in some dust.
“Come, Toby.” Jareth uncoiled to his feet. His hair shone silver-white, just like the moon. “I want to show you something.”
We walked on top of the walls. He had a way of singing under his breath, timing the ups and downs of his voice to the ring of his metal-capped boots on the stone - and the walls must have been listening, because they moved round and round to meet him. I had learned, long ago, not to watch when they did that - I’d get seasick.
“Here.” He stepped down from the wall - only about a foot - and I blinked. We had walked what looked like miles in three minutes. The Labyrinth ran up against the side of a hill, here.
“Where are we going?” I took a step down, carefully, and followed him.
“There.” His cloak billowed out as he pointed.
And if the Labyrinth looked cool in the moonlight, that forest looked even cooler.
If I had been by myself, I might have been scared - yeah, I’ll admit it, even in ninth grade. But Jareth was with me. We walked up the hill towards the forest, walking in the shadow of these huge pine trees. The shadows were twisting blue and grey in the moonlight. For a second I thought they were whispering something, but it was only the wind.
I thought it was weird that it was night in the Labyrinth, for the first time I ever remembered. I told Jareth so.
“Time runs differently, here,” he said. We had reached the edge of the forest. Jareth touched one of the tree trunks lightly; his cloak fluttered.
“‘Different’ how?”
“I rule the Labyrinth.” Jareth gave me a tight-lipped smile. “And in the Labyrinth, time obeys its king.”
“Um.” I looked past him, into the darkness of the woods. “Cool, I guess.” Then I remembered. “And speaking of running, Jareth …”
“Yes?”
“Can we?”
“Certainly. I’ll give you a head start, shall I?” He stretched his arms out in front of him and rolled his shoulders. The cloak rippled. I looked at him, then back to the forest.
“We’re running in - there?”
“Why not?”
“I’d trip over something in like five seconds.” I was exasperated. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but not all people can see in the dark like you can.”
Cause he really could see in the dark. Another one of those not-fair things. It had once happened in my room; I thought someone was coming and turned off the light and his eyes went all weird and reflect-y, like a cat’s.
His eyes were normal when I turned back to look at him again. Then, though, he tipped his head a bit, rolled his shoulders, stretched his arms again and there was this really weird crunching and crackling sound. His cloak rippled a lot this time, like he was readjusting his skeleton beneath it - and it was kind of awesome but also kind of gross.
“Dude,” I said, staring. “Are you double-jointed?” Sam Ferkis at school was double-jointed; he could bend one thumb back to touch his wrist.
“Ah,” Jareth smiled. “Nothing so interesting, I’m afraid.” He twisted one gloved hand and held up a crystal. “Should you like to see in the dark, Toby?”
My mouth dropped open. “You can do that?”
“I can do many things.” He flipped the crystal back and forth. “Should you wish to run faster and farther, here in the Labyrinth - to say nothing of seeing in the dark. All you have to do is wish.”
“Yes!” My voice squeaked; I didn’t care. “All of that! I want to see in the dark and run as fast as you -”
Jareth laughed. “None will ever run as fast as I - but you might run a close second. Here.” He stepped close to me. “Be still.”
I held still.
“And it would help if you were to close your eyes.”
I squeezed my eyes shut.
I got goosebumps when I felt a cold-hot-tingle - which must have been magic - slide from the top of my head down my body to my toes. It was like “Concentrate,” when someone chants “crack an egg upon your head and let the yolk drip down” - only magic, which was just - it was just -
“Can I open them now?”
“Yes.” I could hear the smile in Jareth’s voice. “Open.”
I did. And it was like nothing had ever been, ever in my life. Seeing-eye puzzles, the 3-D stuff at IMAX - it was so much better than those. Even though it was so dark outside, I could see the trees, and see all the bushes that would have tripped me when I ran - I could see heat coming off my hand when I held it up to look at it.
Then I turned to look at Jareth, to say thank you - and I could see his eyes, watching me. I saw every detail of his face in the moonlight, and I saw the magic pouring off him like water, and wrapping all around him like a cloak of fire.
“This is the best present I’ve ever gotten,” I said. It was hard to talk; my throat was closing up and my tongue felt heavy in my mouth. It was because I was emotional.
Jareth inclined his head. “A small price to pay, for your presence beside me.”
I hoped he hadn’t used too much magic, because in the US a present like this would have cost a million dollars and have been invented by the CIA. I felt my throat close even further, thinking that a king would pay anything to have me here.
“But now …” Jareth’s head snapped back up and his eyes glittered at me. “Run, Toby. Run fast.”
I turned and ran. I didn’t trip; I didn’t fall. Instead I ran faster than I ever had before, and jumped over things like I had super powers. I could hear everything in the forest: the needles on the pine trees, the crackling of leaves beneath my feet and the little noises of animals in the underbrush. I heard Jareth running behind me, too - and he sounded happy when he laughed - as happy as I was.
I was so happy. That was the best gift of all.
*
Afterwards, when Jareth undid whatever magic he had done, I was really tired - so tired I could hardly walk. I didn’t mind when he picked me up to carry me. It felt like something my dad would have done, a long time ago.
Before I knew it, we were back in my room. He laid me down on my bed and pulled the covers over me.
“Don’t go,” I mumbled, grabbing his arm - but I blinked awake a bit when I heard him tsk. “What is it?”
“Your wrist.” He sounded a bit mad.
I fumbled for the bedside lamp and turned it on. Sure enough - there was a scrape that went up a bit into my hand. “Oh - sorry. I’ll just get some Neosporin -”
“I had not meant for any hurt to come to you.”
“Dude,” I said. “It’s nothing - it’ll heal fast.”
“Well,” Jareth said, almost to himself. “This will help it heal.”
He placed two fingers on my wrist. I felt a zip and tingle - and then I saw some faint white lines there instead of the scrape.
“Thanks.” I smiled up at him, then flopped back and turned the light off. “Thanks for everything, Jareth.”
“Sleep well, Tobias.” His whisper came out of the dark. “You will see me again in a year.”
*
I felt happy all through Christmas and the start of January. One morning after New Year’s I walked downstairs and stole some coffee (my mom said it’d stunt my growth, but the way I was getting taller it might be a good idea.) I was slurping at my cereal so loud that I hardly heard Sarah come in. I heard her dump her suitcase in the corner, though.
“Hey,” she said, opening a cupboard door.
I tried, “Morning,” but my mouth was full.
“I don’t know if I can even bear the sight of you eating. I feel like I ought to warn the villagers about Godzilla.” Sarah sat down with some granola and a bowl and spoon. “Pass the milk.”
I reached out to grab the milk, gave it to her and went back to eating, with - “Rrragh!” - just to show that Godzilla had feelings, too.
Then I said, “Pass it back when you’re done?”
She didn’t say anything. I looked up at her.
She was still holding the milk carton, and staring at my hand. Her face was the same grey as the sky outside.
“What’s up?” I said.
“Toby …” She looked into my eyes; her own were huge. “What happened to your wrist?”
“I scraped it.”
“When did you scrape it?”
Now I was beginning to be a bit weirded out. She couldn’t know anything about - me going to the Labyrinth. Could she? She had better not. It was my secret, and Jareth’s.
“A while ago,” I shrugged. “I don’t remember.”
Sarah was quiet for a long time. I tried to make a bit more noise eating cereal, but I could hear the clock ticking, which only ever happened when Mom and Dad had fought before dinner.
Then she whispered: “Toby …”
I swallowed. “What?” and looked at her, out of the corner of my eye.
She tried to say something. It took her a while, but finally I heard it, low and soft. “Is there something you want to tell me?”
I shrugged. “What do you mean?”
“Is there something,” she spoke carefully, “that - that you’re keeping a secret from me?”
I didn’t want to tell her. I loved her, too - and I didn’t want her to worry after we’d all had such a nice Christmas. So I said, “Nope.”
She sat there for a long time, watching me, until Dad came to take her suitcase and drive her to the airport. Then she said, “Wait a second,” and went to the office. She came back with a piece of paper and a pen, and a fierce look in her eyes.
And she made a drawing, right there, of the lines on my wrist. She wouldn’t even budge when Dad groused about artists and griped about being late for his nine o’clock meeting. It didn’t take her long before she threw the pen down on the table, folded up the paper, and said to me, “We’ll talk about this later.”
Thanks so very much to knifeedgefic for the super-speedy beta, and, as well, to lightup_tea and for their feedback.
Cross-posted at Labyfic. [nb: Labyfic mods - if this ain't permissible, shoot me an message pls.)
Advent
Part 3
*I thought a lot about what Sarah had done, over the rest of the winter. I mean, skiing was kind of fun, really. The idea of being able to fly past her over the snow-covered golf course where we had gone in December … I liked that idea.
Also, Jareth had said that we would run again. I had to be ready for that.
That’s why for the rest of seventh grade and starting in eighth, I started running in the park and around my block. I would get up pretty early to do it so nobody would see, at least at first. Then it got less and less difficult (although, don’t take me wrong, the first month was awful), so I switched to the afternoons. Jareth was right: it was all about practice.
You’d think that I’d lose like fifty pounds overnight and become, I don’t know, Justin Timberlake or something. Nope. I actually put on more weight, which was totally unfair. The doctor looked really stumped but said it might be muscle.
I didn’t really care. I just wanted to show Jareth how far I could run, and Sarah how fast I could ski, this next winter. And I wanted to get into eighth grade Honors English. I got in the habit of touching a bit of the design Sarah painted on my door frame, for good luck - but maybe I should have touched more of it, or the one around her door as well, because only two-thirds of my wish came true. I got into Honors English, no prob, but then there was a warm front and it didn’t snow at all for the first two weeks of December. Mom said I could ski next year - and it turned out Sarah was off to Europe with Bill, anyway.
It was a bit of a bummer, all around, but I still felt better than I had a few years ago. The calendar appeared on my desk the last night of November. I found the four doors I knew - mother-of-pearl, red and gold, starry blue, green leaves - and lay awake in bed, wondering when he would come back.
*
When Jareth did come back, he scared the hell out of me.
(Yeah, the swear jar, but being a teenager came with few privileges, like a later curfew - I wished - and I thought cursing should be one of them.)
Anyway, I don’t think he meant to scare me personally. I couldn’t figure it out.
I woke up to the shimmering light that would always be magical, no matter how many times it unrolled down my wall. This door was all the colors of the rising sun, getting brighter and brighter yellow and orange and red all together, until I had to cover my eyes.
When I opened them, there was Jareth, glaring at me.
It made me want to run under the bed and hide. Even when I quick looked over my shoulder and realized he was staring at the door of my room, I was freaking out. I thought for one wild minute that he knew about that weird dream I had about him whispering (which I had almost managed to forget, thank you very much) … but, seriously, my door?
He looked like he wanted to chop it up with an axe, or kill it, or something.
I said, “Hey -” but my voice cracked big-time, which made me want to crawl under the bed even more.
Jareth’s eyes flickered. He shook his head a bit, and smiled, but it looked like it was wrong, somehow. “Ah, Toby. My apologies; I was … distracted.” His eyes went around the corners of the room, flick, flick, flick. “How are you?”
“I’m O.K.” I drew my knees up to my chest. “What’s going on?”
He shrugged, and magic’d up some crystals. “Nothing,” he said, low, except his hands were moving all stiff and jerky, which was not normal. Then he dropped a crystal; it shattered and he said something long and snarly, and I don’t know if magical Kings have swear jars, but htat must’ve been a dollar at least.
“Wow. What does that mean?”
Jareth was looking at the floor, his face like white stone. “It’s from a dead language.”
“Like Latin.” This visit wasn’t really going like the others had; I felt kind of uneasy, but remembered what Mom had told me. With trouble talking, remember three “F’s” - family, friends, feelings, not finances -
“Your family all right?” I wanted to kick myself as soon as I had spoken, because -
Jareth snorted. “I have no family.”
“Oh, sorry - I thought you might have had a rough day, maybe, and I - um - just wanted to - say something?”
“Ah.” He made the other crystals vanish. Then he sank down onto my desk chair, and looked a bit tired. “My apologies, young Toby. Forgive me?” He quirked an eyebrow.
“No worries.” I got out of bed. “I’ve wanted to show you my running forever - I think I’ve gotten a lot better at it.”
Jareth slapped his gloved hands on his knees, and stood back up. “Let us go, then, you and I.”
We went through the door together, to the Labyrinth. I had left my sneakers on in bed every day of December, to be ready for my visit.
*
The next year I got even better at running, except I had to take more breaks. The thing is: I started getting taller and taller. The ache in my shins actually made it hard to sleep and harder to run. But I tried to swim at Dad’s health club instead, once in a while. When Sarah came home for December and saw how much I’d grown she faked a fainting fit. Then she grinned and hugged me tight.
I was glad to see her smile. From what she had said on the phone, at different times, things had been a bit rough for her - especially with her nasty break-up. So she took some personal leave from work and came home for all of December, not just Christmas.
I overheard her and Mom talking, one night, when I was supposed to be finishing my World Lit homework in the dining room. Sarah said she and Bill were over because he wanted kids and she didn’t.
“At least,” she said, quiet, “not yet.”
“But honey, why on earth not?” my mom said, all dramatic; seriously, she sounded like someone from a soap opera. “You would make a wonderful mother.”
Sarah laughed a tight little laugh. “I don’t think so.”
“Oh, Sarah, that was a long time ago -”
“No, not that. I just mean …” she sighed. “I just don’t want kids right now. It’s not a good time.”
“And Bill can’t wait?”
Silence. Then: “I guess not.”
I couldn’t help but think there was more too it, but it could have been because my mom isn’t exactly the Queen of Subtle. I’d bet ten bucks she wanted a grandkid - well, a step-grandkid - to dress up and show off to the neighbors. Just as well Sarah wasn’t going along with it, because there’s no way I wanted to be Uncle Toby in only ninth grade.
*
About a week before Christmas, Jareth strode through a door of shimmering green and blue light - like a door from Atlantis shining underwater. This year I had tried to guess when he would come. I had thought back over his other visits, and I realized that there was no real pattern to the dates. I don’t think there had ever been the same one, twice, but the familiar doors - five of them, now: pearl, red-and-gold, starry sky, green leaves, sunrise - jumped all over the place on the calendar so I couldn’t be sure.
“It’s never number twenty-four, though,” I told him, climbing up one of the Labyrinth’s walls. “Why not?”
Jareth hissed under his breath, adjusted his handhold, then hoisted himself up and slid onto the top of the wall in one smooth motion. Not fair.
“That door is a special one.” As he dusted off his gloves, he spoke. “It signifies the end of Advent - that ancient time of expectation - with the arrival of a promised child, a long-expected visitor, that which makes Christmas Eve silent night, holy night, et cetera.” He smiled, lopsided, down to where I craned my neck to see him. “That door would be the last door for me personally. Though if you don’t want me to return -”
“No!” I scuffled my feet around to find one last sticking-out rock and then scrambled to the top in a rush. “No, seriously - this is awesome. It gets better every year.”
I was looking out over the Labyrinth, all silver and magic in the moonlight. It was so cool that it made my throat close up. I coughed, pretending to have breathed in some dust.
“Come, Toby.” Jareth uncoiled to his feet. His hair shone silver-white, just like the moon. “I want to show you something.”
We walked on top of the walls. He had a way of singing under his breath, timing the ups and downs of his voice to the ring of his metal-capped boots on the stone - and the walls must have been listening, because they moved round and round to meet him. I had learned, long ago, not to watch when they did that - I’d get seasick.
“Here.” He stepped down from the wall - only about a foot - and I blinked. We had walked what looked like miles in three minutes. The Labyrinth ran up against the side of a hill, here.
“Where are we going?” I took a step down, carefully, and followed him.
“There.” His cloak billowed out as he pointed.
And if the Labyrinth looked cool in the moonlight, that forest looked even cooler.
If I had been by myself, I might have been scared - yeah, I’ll admit it, even in ninth grade. But Jareth was with me. We walked up the hill towards the forest, walking in the shadow of these huge pine trees. The shadows were twisting blue and grey in the moonlight. For a second I thought they were whispering something, but it was only the wind.
I thought it was weird that it was night in the Labyrinth, for the first time I ever remembered. I told Jareth so.
“Time runs differently, here,” he said. We had reached the edge of the forest. Jareth touched one of the tree trunks lightly; his cloak fluttered.
“‘Different’ how?”
“I rule the Labyrinth.” Jareth gave me a tight-lipped smile. “And in the Labyrinth, time obeys its king.”
“Um.” I looked past him, into the darkness of the woods. “Cool, I guess.” Then I remembered. “And speaking of running, Jareth …”
“Yes?”
“Can we?”
“Certainly. I’ll give you a head start, shall I?” He stretched his arms out in front of him and rolled his shoulders. The cloak rippled. I looked at him, then back to the forest.
“We’re running in - there?”
“Why not?”
“I’d trip over something in like five seconds.” I was exasperated. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but not all people can see in the dark like you can.”
Cause he really could see in the dark. Another one of those not-fair things. It had once happened in my room; I thought someone was coming and turned off the light and his eyes went all weird and reflect-y, like a cat’s.
His eyes were normal when I turned back to look at him again. Then, though, he tipped his head a bit, rolled his shoulders, stretched his arms again and there was this really weird crunching and crackling sound. His cloak rippled a lot this time, like he was readjusting his skeleton beneath it - and it was kind of awesome but also kind of gross.
“Dude,” I said, staring. “Are you double-jointed?” Sam Ferkis at school was double-jointed; he could bend one thumb back to touch his wrist.
“Ah,” Jareth smiled. “Nothing so interesting, I’m afraid.” He twisted one gloved hand and held up a crystal. “Should you like to see in the dark, Toby?”
My mouth dropped open. “You can do that?”
“I can do many things.” He flipped the crystal back and forth. “Should you wish to run faster and farther, here in the Labyrinth - to say nothing of seeing in the dark. All you have to do is wish.”
“Yes!” My voice squeaked; I didn’t care. “All of that! I want to see in the dark and run as fast as you -”
Jareth laughed. “None will ever run as fast as I - but you might run a close second. Here.” He stepped close to me. “Be still.”
I held still.
“And it would help if you were to close your eyes.”
I squeezed my eyes shut.
I got goosebumps when I felt a cold-hot-tingle - which must have been magic - slide from the top of my head down my body to my toes. It was like “Concentrate,” when someone chants “crack an egg upon your head and let the yolk drip down” - only magic, which was just - it was just -
“Can I open them now?”
“Yes.” I could hear the smile in Jareth’s voice. “Open.”
I did. And it was like nothing had ever been, ever in my life. Seeing-eye puzzles, the 3-D stuff at IMAX - it was so much better than those. Even though it was so dark outside, I could see the trees, and see all the bushes that would have tripped me when I ran - I could see heat coming off my hand when I held it up to look at it.
Then I turned to look at Jareth, to say thank you - and I could see his eyes, watching me. I saw every detail of his face in the moonlight, and I saw the magic pouring off him like water, and wrapping all around him like a cloak of fire.
“This is the best present I’ve ever gotten,” I said. It was hard to talk; my throat was closing up and my tongue felt heavy in my mouth. It was because I was emotional.
Jareth inclined his head. “A small price to pay, for your presence beside me.”
I hoped he hadn’t used too much magic, because in the US a present like this would have cost a million dollars and have been invented by the CIA. I felt my throat close even further, thinking that a king would pay anything to have me here.
“But now …” Jareth’s head snapped back up and his eyes glittered at me. “Run, Toby. Run fast.”
I turned and ran. I didn’t trip; I didn’t fall. Instead I ran faster than I ever had before, and jumped over things like I had super powers. I could hear everything in the forest: the needles on the pine trees, the crackling of leaves beneath my feet and the little noises of animals in the underbrush. I heard Jareth running behind me, too - and he sounded happy when he laughed - as happy as I was.
I was so happy. That was the best gift of all.
*
Afterwards, when Jareth undid whatever magic he had done, I was really tired - so tired I could hardly walk. I didn’t mind when he picked me up to carry me. It felt like something my dad would have done, a long time ago.
Before I knew it, we were back in my room. He laid me down on my bed and pulled the covers over me.
“Don’t go,” I mumbled, grabbing his arm - but I blinked awake a bit when I heard him tsk. “What is it?”
“Your wrist.” He sounded a bit mad.
I fumbled for the bedside lamp and turned it on. Sure enough - there was a scrape that went up a bit into my hand. “Oh - sorry. I’ll just get some Neosporin -”
“I had not meant for any hurt to come to you.”
“Dude,” I said. “It’s nothing - it’ll heal fast.”
“Well,” Jareth said, almost to himself. “This will help it heal.”
He placed two fingers on my wrist. I felt a zip and tingle - and then I saw some faint white lines there instead of the scrape.
“Thanks.” I smiled up at him, then flopped back and turned the light off. “Thanks for everything, Jareth.”
“Sleep well, Tobias.” His whisper came out of the dark. “You will see me again in a year.”
*
I felt happy all through Christmas and the start of January. One morning after New Year’s I walked downstairs and stole some coffee (my mom said it’d stunt my growth, but the way I was getting taller it might be a good idea.) I was slurping at my cereal so loud that I hardly heard Sarah come in. I heard her dump her suitcase in the corner, though.
“Hey,” she said, opening a cupboard door.
I tried, “Morning,” but my mouth was full.
“I don’t know if I can even bear the sight of you eating. I feel like I ought to warn the villagers about Godzilla.” Sarah sat down with some granola and a bowl and spoon. “Pass the milk.”
I reached out to grab the milk, gave it to her and went back to eating, with - “Rrragh!” - just to show that Godzilla had feelings, too.
Then I said, “Pass it back when you’re done?”
She didn’t say anything. I looked up at her.
She was still holding the milk carton, and staring at my hand. Her face was the same grey as the sky outside.
“What’s up?” I said.
“Toby …” She looked into my eyes; her own were huge. “What happened to your wrist?”
“I scraped it.”
“When did you scrape it?”
Now I was beginning to be a bit weirded out. She couldn’t know anything about - me going to the Labyrinth. Could she? She had better not. It was my secret, and Jareth’s.
“A while ago,” I shrugged. “I don’t remember.”
Sarah was quiet for a long time. I tried to make a bit more noise eating cereal, but I could hear the clock ticking, which only ever happened when Mom and Dad had fought before dinner.
Then she whispered: “Toby …”
I swallowed. “What?” and looked at her, out of the corner of my eye.
She tried to say something. It took her a while, but finally I heard it, low and soft. “Is there something you want to tell me?”
I shrugged. “What do you mean?”
“Is there something,” she spoke carefully, “that - that you’re keeping a secret from me?”
I didn’t want to tell her. I loved her, too - and I didn’t want her to worry after we’d all had such a nice Christmas. So I said, “Nope.”
She sat there for a long time, watching me, until Dad came to take her suitcase and drive her to the airport. Then she said, “Wait a second,” and went to the office. She came back with a piece of paper and a pen, and a fierce look in her eyes.
And she made a drawing, right there, of the lines on my wrist. She wouldn’t even budge when Dad groused about artists and griped about being late for his nine o’clock meeting. It didn’t take her long before she threw the pen down on the table, folded up the paper, and said to me, “We’ll talk about this later.”