FicWad

Chapter 7: Changes

Sarah reappeared in the King’s Chamber, trying to shake the feeling of Jareth; it had been steadily growing stronger with each of these interviews she had to conduct with Didymus. At first, it had simply been easier just letting the information come through than trying to mimic the Goblin King, but the longer it went on it felt almost as if he were actually speaking on his own and the feeling was rather disturbing, the situation beginning to concern her. Could she really go through with this? Was her will really as strong as his or was she just toying with something that could literally take her over like it had taken over William? It was a rather chilling thought but right now she had someone else to worry about. Ambrosius was awake and, after a quick trip outside, she made a filled water dish and some kibble for him. It had taken a surprising amount of concentration to bring something solid into existence but she seemed to have managed it passably without further research. She was growing leery of ‘that book’ - her thoughts kept straying to it almost involuntarily - and she was thankful that it had not been necessary to look at it. After the dog had eaten and she had petted him awhile, Sarah decided that she had been absent from the Throne Room long enough and should probably head back down before they trashed the place completely in her absence. On the way down the staircase she had the strangest feeling though, like there was something she had forgotten, but what she couldn’t tell…
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After approximately half-an-hour’s sniffing about in vain (darn tricksy shrubbery), Sir Didymus stumbled upon the dividing wall that separated the hedge maze from the first section of the forest and, thankfully, the pair of doors one had to choose between hadn’t varied in centuries. The knight had this intelligence from listening to the patrol guards that Jareth often sent out in to the Labyrinth proper. It was much easier to manipulate the Labyrinth than the landscape it seemed and clearly the king simply couldn’t be bothered at this point; 50/50 odds were difficult enough in his book. So, when the knight beheld those two sturdy portals set into the stone his spirits lifted considerably. The correct door here was always the one to the right! Of course, there was still one annoying minor problem: Didymus only stood at just under three feet high and he couldn’t have reached the knocker even if he still had his staff. Not one to be easily dissuaded (or, indeed, to do anything the easy way when a challenge might prove more personally fulfilling), he quickly clambered up the medium-height oak tree that stood nearby and nimbly danced across the top of the wall until he was positioned right over the door in question. But before jumping, he ventured a glance at the opposite side; to his amazement, it was a perfect mirror image of the hedge maze! He had known of this mirage phenomenon almost since day one of working for His Majesty - it was a standing glamour that was activated if anyone tried to cheat and see further into the maze - but he had never been curious enough to go look for it on purpose. It did throw into stark relief just how eccentric his liege lord was, however, truly viewing this for the first time. He reflected that when he had come to this place he hadn’t been looking for credentials but the potential for magical power in a time of extreme desperation. Wizard kings in general were odd and just a little crazy by all accounts, and he had been initially willing to literally turn his blind eye to all manner of strangeness if only…

He shook himself out of his reverie - there was no time to be wasted in such self-indulgence - and calculated the angle at which he would have to fall. It was a risky move; if he missed he could be knocked unconscious or otherwise seriously injured. The knocker itself had initially been surprised and confused, watching the little knight, but it quickly deduced what he was about and was careful to hold the ring tightly between its lips with an iron - er, bronze - grip. Didymus made a sheer drop and just caught it; the force wrenched his shoulders but he managed to hang on, and, heaving up his legs, walked a few paces up the door for leverage. Banging the ring against the door twice and promptly dropping to the ground, he landed on his feet and dusted off his paws in satisfaction.

It was a very good thing he had let go when he did. Instead of revealing a lush, dark forest, a khaki-green sludge that was all too familiar to him was bubbling just inside the door. Didymus’ jaw dropped in dumbfounded amazement: the bog had been relocated here! This was no mere spillage; the murky swamp lay before him, but dry ground was far on the other side. He spotted his old post out there with a twinge of guilt. The king was no doubt reminding him of the crucial responsibility which he had turned his back on, deliberately using his prior charge to blockade his advance. It wasn’t as outrageous a threat to him as it would have been to practically anyone else for obvious reasons, but, nevertheless, it was an effective deterrent for one simple reason: Didymus had never learned to swim. While he was deliberating the viability of constructing a raft with the scanty materials at hand, the door knockers were being subjected to the bog’s more usual effects.

“PhooEY!” exclaimed the gargoyle with the ring in its ears. “Who lit the sewer on fire?!”

“Fr th lullo eet, lol th go!” screamed the other with the ring in his mouth that impeded his speech.

“I’m so terribly sorry, I didn’t catch that,” Sir Didymus addressed it primly, “couldst thou perhaps speak a bit more distinctly, please?”

The knocker spat the ring out of its mouth; it narrowly missed Didymus’ head as if flew several feet before hitting the ground. “I said, ‘for the love of Pete, close the door!’ I don’t even have lungs and I’m dying of asphyxiation over here!”

“Surely you exaggerate; it isn’t that bad,” Didymus rejoindered, taking a few ineffective sniffs.

“Please! Hurry!”

The other knocker echoed his plaints. Sir Didymus sighed, a little bemused, but nevertheless set about to right the perceived problem. Only, once again, he couldn’t reach the door, and now there was nothing to hang onto. If only he had more time he might be able to rig something up, but from the extreme distress he was witnessing there was clearly none. There was nothing for it.

“Sir Hoggle! Art thou still nearby?” he yelled behind him; the knocker that could also hear might have helped him in calling for help but was currently trying to hold its breath.

“Yeh! Why?” came the reply a little ways off. “That smell had better not be what I thinks it is.”

Sir Didymus was beginning to take slight umbrage at the abuse being heaped upon the swamp of the Bog but managed to stuff it.

“It is indeed, but I am too petite to reach the door to close it unaided and these apparati over here are pitching quite the fit over the alleged aroma-”

“I’ll be right there,” Hoggle rudely cut him off and Didymus heard the sound of shuffling leather shoes heading his way.

This general overreaction was surprisingly commonplace, but the knight refused to take in the stride what he himself experienced no evidence of. He had been reassured by the king himself that the bog was actually physically safe to be around in spite of its appearance, even in close proximity, and that it was only slightly damaging to one’s health if one got it on bare skin due to the myriad of small organisms that grew and lived in the sludge. For his age, Sir Didymus was still perfectly fit - a living example of the truth of the situation - and while he had always been careful of the bog, he had felt doubly protected: nearly all of his ‘bare skin’ was covered in fur. The rumor of the ‘stench’ was hogwash as far as he was concerned. Perhaps the organisms created fumes that others were allergic to; it was the only explanation that made any sense.

In moments, Hoggle came around the bend and immediately grimaced at the organic chemical compounds that were rabidly assaulting his large, bulbous nose. Without saying a word, he quickly pinched it shut, holding his breath, and, limping over to the door, carefully reached in and grabbed the edge, slowly pulling it mostly closed. Didymus retrieved the ring from where it had been thrown, hopped up lightly onto the dwarf’s shoulders and put the object back in the knocker’s mouth; still hanging onto it, walking backward, they closed the door. Hoggle instantly gasped for air.

“What on earth did you say to him?! I ain’t ever seen that done!” the dwarf pressed, catching his breath along with the knockers.

“I did not raise His Majesty’s ire that I know of, if that is what thou art referring to,” Didymus replied guardedly, “but I must confess that this whole misadventure is beginning to look stranger and stranger to me,” he shook his head, looking down a moment thoughtfully. “But before I quit this place I would like just one civil question answered.” He looked Hoggle squarely in the eye. “Why does everyone go on so about the swamp? I have lived there for many healthy years and yet it seems an anathema for all life-forms not native to it, yourself included.”

Hoggle’s expression turned to pity; this was going to be so hard on him.

“Didy,” he said quietly, “you lost your sense of smell completely years ago. The little you have left is just in your sense of taste.”

Sir Didymus was incensed. “Are you intimating, sir, that my remaining senses, apart from the eye I lost slaying a dragon single-handedly, are not what they should be?” he retorted accusingly, hands on his hips.

“Hey, take it easy, I ain’t attackin’ ya,” Hoggle mollified him, “doncha remember it?” It was the time of that terrible monster in the Labyrinth and all of us had been warned to watch our hides and Jareth hisself was heading a hunting party to capture it and you were there.”

“Ah, the old glory days,” Didymus momentarily basked in the memory. “I was also present at the terror’s subduing and humiliation if I have not regaled you before…”

“You have. Many times,” the dwarf smiled a bit wanly, “but in the official report, if you ever bothered ta read it, they only caught that thing unawares because it was distracted by in the act of sneaking up on you and tryin’ ta eat ya.”

“Tis true the dastardly monster had the gift of stealth. I must ruefully admit I’ve never seen better.”

“Didy, that beast reeked of musk and body odor so bad you could smell it from a quarter mile away. That’s how the army had been tracking it mostly. That’s how Jareth found you in time. That’s when he knew yer sense of smell was gone. You were reposted to the Bog shortly after ta keep ya outta harm’s way.”

Didymus was thunderstruck. Could it possibly be true? His heart railed against it but something of what Hoggle had just said clicked together suddenly in his memory. It all washed. The reality of his old age reared its ugly head. If he had stayed on the good earth he would have been dead already. His life was artificially preserved here in Faerie, but if it was only to be for ignominy and humiliation…

Hoggle clearly read the crestfallen despair in the knight’s expressive canine features and knew he had to snap him out of it quick; if Didymus lost confidence in himself, all was truly lost!

“So you’re gettin’ old. So what?” he tried to buck him up. “Ya realize you can do things with no depth perception that I can’t do with both eyes? You still got yer strength and yer mind and yer hearing. Your reputation for never giving up is legendary.” His eyes dropped to the paving stones. “Please don’t give up now. Sarah needs ya and I can’t help her,” he said quietly, looking back up in awe and a little honest fear at the door they had struggled to close only minutes earlier. “I think time’s runnin’ short a little early this time around.”

Didymus was still a little dejected at the revelation but took the well-meant encouragement to heart. The dwarf had promptly reminded him of his present duty. Regardless of what he thought of himself, there were those whose need was far greater than any worries about ability. He clearly still had enough: his good eye was sharp, his right arm strong, and his legs weary but willing to continue to the ends of this world if necessary. His heart and soul were tireless - that was enough - and he rallied against the moment of doubt.

“Thank you for being honest with me, Sir Hoggle,” he looked back up with a confident little smile and Hoggle inwardly collapsed in relief - that had been close! “Whatever this road is, I must take it,” he said, striding toward the ominous door with the deaf knocker for a moment. Rumor had it its ears were stopped to keep it from hearing the terrible things going on just on the other side of the door. Didymus had gone to start climbing the tree again but Hoggle stopped him.

“I helped ya close the one and I wasn’t struck dead. I think he’ll let me help ya open the other; the Bog might’ve only been a personal message.

“I suspect something of the same,” Didymus replied, walking back over. Standing on the dwarf’s shoulders he easily reached the knocker and after two judicious bangs the door swung open…to an even darker and more foreboding forest than should have been behind the second door. At least it seemed traversable. Peering in before entering, Didymus had a sudden thought. “Sir Hoggle, might I trouble thee for thy pocket knife a moment? My usual defense was destroyed utterly when I went up against the Minotaur a little while ago.”

Hoggle’s eyes widened in shock. “Ya mean you got that wrong door before gettin’ in here and lived?!”

“Obviously,” the little knight replied casually, his confidence returning, “but I had to slay the ignoble wretch to do it and he shattered my staff, albeit by accident.”

Hoggle dug through his many pockets - they were full of trinkets and junk as usual - and finally produced a folded-closed five-inch blade, handing it over. Didymus took it to the tree and, climbing partway up, sawed off one of the younger branches. Quickly stripping it of leaves, in a few short strokes he had whittled a rough point out of the thinner end. A walking staff would be a comfort but a spear was more likely to be of greater use where he was being forced to go. He handed the knife back to Hoggle.

“Wish me luck, my friend,” he said simply and walked fearlessly through the doorway. Once he was inside, it immediately slammed shut of its own accord.

Hoggle had only about a minute to reflect on what all had just happened; in a flash he suddenly found himself up on the parapets of the castle! Sarah was there, pacing like a caged tiger, crystal in hand. It seemed like she was trying not to look at it but something at work in her members was fighting back.

“How’s he holding up?” she asked, not even stopping to look at him.

“Pretty well for an old guy in decent shape, although he’s got his suspicions.”

She stopped then and fixed him with a paralyzing savage glare. “You haven’t betrayed me, have you Hoggle?”

The accusation out of nowhere caught the dwarf off-guard. It was certainly Jareth who had spoken and Hoggle realized that he had better respond accordingly.

“ Course not, Yer Majesty,” he managed to answer calmly, “but even you have to concede this would look mighty queer from Didy’s point of view.”

Sarah closed her eyes and rubbed her temples for a moment. “I’m sorry that was so harsh,” she said, herself again, “I’m just so nervous.”

Hoggle nodded sympathetically. “Did you have any other jobs what need doing today, Yer Majesty?”

“Not at the moment; go ahead and take a break.”

Hoggle blinked - that one sounded like both of them! At least everyone was in agreement until further notice. The sun had set while he had been in the hedge maze but evening was truly underway now, with the first bright stars twinkling to life at the far horizon and that huge blue moon just coming up. ‘Jareth’ always made it day for the runners at the beginning of the course, but for some strange reason instead of morning he had only made it mid-afternoon for Didymus; any number of possible explanations in this case, really. Hoggle casually took an old bone pipe from his chest strap, screwed it together and dug a drawstring pouch out of his side pocket. Sarah glanced over and noticed what he was doing - he had just taken some dried plant material out of the pouch and was packing the bowl tightly, going through the practiced motions of what was obviously a very old habit.

“You have tobacco all the way out here?!” she asked incredulously.

“Nope, somethin’ better,” he cracked a guilty smile. “Ain’t good for humans, though. I’ll stay upwind.” He walked a few yards away from her and sat down on the turret. Lighting the pipe with a match, he took his first drag; a couple seconds later, blue smoke rings puffed away on the night breeze.

Sarah desperately wished she had a way to relax right now, even if it was artificial. She was wound so tight she felt she should burst from the tension. It had been a very trying and bizarre day and it wasn’t even over yet. The goblins were annoying and stupid beyond belief; if she ever survived this, she would never complain about babysitting ever, ever again. Toby was a walk in the park in June compared to this madhouse. Stranger by far was the fact that she hadn’t been hungry or thirsty all day. Did ‘Jareth’ actually provide for her bodily needs as well? It would appear so.

No wonder William was so thin, she reflected. William Cooke. She suddenly wondered where he’d ended up, but she wasn’t about to try to look in on him; she’d tried it already with her family and seen nothing but a gray mist, feeling a faint teasing sensation. It called for a different procedure in ‘The Forbidden Book of Knowledge’ (as she thought of it now) and she wasn’t about to risk a look for such a trifle, although her fingers practically itched when she though of the accursed thing now. On impulse, she formed another crystal to watch Didymus some more. The action required had become second-nature in less than half-a-day but she wasn’t even aware of it anymore. Or, indeed, the fact that she was becoming more like Jareth by the hour.

Hoggle glanced over, seeing the sudden light in his peripheral vision, and saw her own glowing diversion.

“Oh, Missy,” he sighed, “ya can’t keep spyin’ on him like that - you’ll just make him nervous.”

Before she knew what she was doing, Sarah irritatedly threw the crystal against the masonry and it gave a surprisingly satisfying smash before dissolving into nothing.

Hoggle observed her actions with almost scientifically cold accuracy. Jareth was beginning to get the upper hand - that much was dead certain. What he wasn’t certain of was if and how she would unintentionally try to stop Didymus from entering the city. She had just automatically formed another crystal, completely oblivious to the dwarf’s presence again. Hoggle had been half-mulling something over during this entire interview but he had just come to his decision. Taking one last long drag, he snuffed out the remaining herb; he usually hated wasting it like this - it was hard enough to cultivate in this alkaline, rocky soil - but the situation was most likely a matter of life-and-death for somebody. Melting into the shadows, he headed down to the rear castle entrance and disappeared into the forest.

He knew what he had to do.