A week passed, and Sarah healed quickly. Father eventually warmed up to her, enough so that she didn't feel like crawling under a table whenever he came into the room. Her wounds felt worse than they were, and soon they were nearly healed, though she was forced to walk with a cane until her ankle healed properly. She came to know some of the other Tunnel Dwellers, and even began to sort of learn her way around the maze of tunnels. She was given a spare room with a bed, and some extra clothes to wear. Wreath had somehow convinced everyone to let her stay, since she was alone for two weeks, and so she ended up spending a rather nice vacation after all. It was a shame she'd have to leave soon, she reflected sadly. But at least she could always visit again. And she promised to invite Wreath to dinner in her apartment, and Vincent and Jacob, too, if they could make it.

She spent evenings in the small library, which housed a collection of old books, as Vincent or Father or Wreath read from a story to the children, or sang them a song. One night, Wreath managed to convince Sarah to read from a book, as well, and she put all her acting skill into making the characters come alive. After that, she was begged to read at least once a night, which she gladly did. The children, at least, appreciated her efforts, as did the adults who listened in as well.

Another night, Jacob begged Wreath to sing a song. She refused, actually looking embarrassed about it, but Sarah, caught in the mood, teased her into singing. Wreath made a face at her, then reluctantly agreed. "Very well," she said in an over-exasperated tone. "I'll sing for you, but only one song, got it?"

The children eagerly agreed, and Wreath took her place in the Reading Chair as Jacob crawled into her lap. She thought for a moment, then nodded her head. "All right. I've got one." She began to sing, her voice rising clear and lovely, but from the very first word, Sarah felt a chill creep down her spine. She knew this song, as well as her own name.

"Alas, my love, you do me wrong
To cast me off discourteously;
And I have loved you, oh so long,
Delighting in your company.

Greensleeves was my delight,
Greensleeves my heart of gold.
Greensleeves was my heart of joy,
And who but my Lady Greensleeves.

I have been ready at your hand
To grant whatever thou would'st crave;
I have waged both life and land,
Your love and goodwill for to have.

Greensleeves was my delight,
Greensleeves my heart of gold.
Greensleeves was my heart of joy,
And who but my Lady Greensleeves.

Thy petticoat of sendle white
With gold embroidered gorgeously;
Thy petticoat of silk and white,
And these I bought thee, gladly.

Greensleeves was my delight,
Greensleeves my heart of gold.
Greensleeves was my heart of joy,
And who but my Lady Greensleeves.

The song ended, and everyone clapped and cheered, while Wreath looked extremely uncomfortable with the attention. She noticed Sarah's expression, and her embarrassment gave way to alarm. "Sarah, girl, what on earth's the matter with you?" she asked, taking in her white face and huge dark eyes. "My singing's not *that* bad, is it?" She laughed nervously. Sarah looked about ready to faint.

Sarah gave her a thin-lipped smile. "No, your singing is beautiful," she replied in a small voice. "It's just...that song brought back some memories, is all. I had a music box, once, that played that melody. It had been a gift...from my real mother."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I wish I'd known, I'd have sung something else instead," Wreath said apologetically.

"No, it's okay. Wasn't your fault," Sarah replied. She gave everyone a weak smile. "If it's all right, I think I'll turn in now. I'm feeling a little worn out." She rose and made her way out of the library, returning everyone's goodnights in a distracted manner. Out of all the songs to be sung, why had it been that one? she wondered as she walked slowly to her room. Somebody out there was definitely playing a mind game with her. She'd not heard that song in eight years, for every time she wound up the music box, she'd ended up hearing the haunting melody Jareth had sung to her at the Crystal Ball, instead. It was playing in her head right now, quite persistently, and she knew she wasn't liable to get any sleep that night.

* * * * *

One night, a few nights later, as Wreath was reading to Jacob in the library, he suddenly pulled the book out of her hands and tossed it across the floor. "Jacob!" Wreath exclaimed with an astonished laugh. "What's the matter with you?"

"Don't want to hear that story," Jacob pouted. "Want to hear another story. Want to hear something new."

"Well, all we have is in here," Wreath replied sternly. "Whatever we have is what we can read. Would you like to hear Peter Pan again?"

"No!" he proclaimed stubbornly. "Something *new*!"

Vincent came into the room in time to hear his son's statement. "What seems to be the problem?" he asked the boy gently.

"Daddy, I want to read a new story," Jacob replied. "I heard all these before. Don't we have nothin' new?"

Wreath shrugged. "He just up and tossed Cinderella across the room," she explained with a wry grin. An impish gleam lit her eye. "Really, Vincent, what are you teaching your son?"

Vincent let out a small laugh. "Not how to throw books. He learned that one on his own," he replied. "Jacob, you know better than that." He fondly ruffled the boy's hair, and Jacob grinned unrepentantly up at his dad.

"Have a new book to read?" he asked hopefully.

Wreath laughed. "The boy has a one-track mind," she teased. "Well, 'Daddy'? I don't guess you have a new story stashed away anywhere, do you? Help me out here!"

Vincent smiled. "As a matter of fact, Mouse gave me a book last week. Just a day or two before Sarah came to us," he replied. "Said somebody tossed it into a dumpster, though I don't know why anyone would do that. It's a play of sorts, I believe, but it ought to make a decent story. I'd forgotten about it, but it appears now is a good time to bring it out." Jacob clapped his hands in delight as Vincent went to the bookshelves and pulled out a thin book bound in red leather. He handed it to Wreath, who looked at the cover.

"Labyrinth," she read, and suddenly she gasped and her eyes went wide. "I don't believe it! This is the book Sarah was telling me about!"

"Really? What was she saying about it?" Vincent asked curiously, taking it back again and paging through it.

Wreath frowned. "That's between me and her, on my oath, but let me just say, she isn't very fond of it. It's a nasty book, she says. I would listen to her, and put that thing right back wherever it was found. At least for her sake. If she should happen to discover it, I don't like to think how she'd react."

"It's just a story," Vincent replied. "There's no harm in a book."

Wreath snorted. "She didn't seem to think so. Had some pretty strange experiences after reading it, she did. Trust me, Vincent. Put the book away, and don't look at it again."

"No!" Jacob suddenly shouted. "I want to read the story! Please, Daddy? Will you read it to me?" He looked up at his father through puppy eyes, and Wreath could see that Vincent was relenting.

"Oh! You spoil the child!" she snapped. "I'm telling you, don't read that story! Have some respect for Sarah's feelings, if nothing else!"

Vincent looked at her, his expression annoyed. "I see no harm in reading this to my son," he replied sternly. "If you don't like it, you may leave the room." He pulled up a chair and Jacob eagerly crawled into his lap.

Wreath threw up her hands. "Very well! But I'm staying, though, so I can get you out of any trouble you get yourselves into!" she huffed, sitting cross- legged on the floor. Vincent eyed her curiously, wondering what had gotten into her, then opened the book to the first page and began to read.

* * * * *

The Lady stood close by as Vincent began to read. She smiled to herself. Ah! Now things were coming together! Fate was coming to pass...She tilted her head suddenly. Yes. He was stirring, sensing that the Words of Power were to be spoken soon; gathering his magic about him.

The Lady frowned. Sarah was not with the readers, and she needed to be there, for this to come to pass. She took herself to Sarah's room. The girl lay on her bed, reading, unaware of the turn her life was about to take. The Lady smiled gently. "Be prepared, child. Your path will soon turn toward that which you have fought so hard to ignore. Time to accept it with open arms."

* * * * *

Sarah was deeply absorbed in the book she'd borrowed from the library. It was called "Watership Down", and she was finding it to be a rather a good story. She'd just gotten to the fourth chapter when she felt a sudden chill creep down her spine, as though someone were watching her. Her head snapped up, and she looked around sharply, but there was nobody there. Shaking her head and muttering to herself about ghosts and spooky caves, she went back to her reading, but a moment later the chill came again, and with a sharp gasp she leaped to her feet and looked all about the cave. She knew she was being watched, and yet nobody was there...

She walked slowly toward the doorway of her chamber, thinking to go down to the mess hall to beg for some scraps, and a movement caught out of the corner of her eye caused her to nearly leap out of her own skin in fright. She whirled with a muffled shriek, and immediately relaxed when she saw her own reflection staring back at her through the mirror. "Girl, you're gonna give yourself heart failure for sure if you keep this up," she muttered.

Her heart was skipping a little, and she opened her bottle of pills, which she thankfully had with her, and downed one, just to be on the safe side. She automatically tucked them into the pocket of her breeches, then started to leave the room. Something odd caught her eye again, and she paused and glanced to her left, toward the mirror again. Her heart stopped completely for a moment, and her face turned white as a sheet. The mirror was...glowing. "What is this?" she whispered. "Some sort of trick?" She stepped closer to it, looking for the source of the light, suspecting that maybe some of the older children had decided to play her a nasty trick, as it was nearing Halloween. The mirror in the Phantom of the Opera had glowed like that, and it was a pretty cool special effect. But it was also a trick mirror. This one, as far as she could tell, wasn't.

The mirror seemed to ripple suddenly. At least, her reflection did, like the surface of a lake, and when it stilled, ever so briefly, it no longer was her own reflection staring at her, but that of...

"Jareth!"

The name was spoken in a hiss, even as the image vanished, and Sarah felt her strength give out as she fell on her knees to the floor. It had been Jareth! She was sure of it! She could never forget that face, that arrogant grin or those diamond-hard, mismatched eyes. But what was he doing in her mirror? "Something's wrong," she muttered. She closed her eyes to get her bearings. "Something is seriously wrong." An image suddenly pushed itself into her mind. Vincent, sitting in the Reading Chair in the library, Jacob sitting curled up at his feet, listening with a rapt expression as Vincent read from a book...a book with a red cover...

Her head snapped up. "No! Oh, no!" she gasped. "They're reading the book!"

She didn't know how she knew that, but she did. She didn't think. She just acted, leaping to her feet and racing out of the room, slamming her shoulder painfully against the edge of the doorway in the process. She ignored the pain, and that in her newly-healed ankle, as she raced as fast as she could toward the library. **Don't let me be too late,** she prayed silently. **Please don't let me be too late...**

The room was right ahead. Just a little way yet...She could hear Vincent's deep voice. "And she said, 'I wish the goblins..."

"Stop!" Sarah shouted.

"...would come and take you away..."

"Don't say it!" she screamed. "Vincent, you don't know what you're saying!"

"...Right now!"

"*Nooooo*!"

She reached the room and skidded to a halt just inside as Vincent, Wreath, and Jacob looked up at her in astonishment. "Did you say something?" Vincent asked curiously.

Sarah didn't pause. She grabbed the book from Vincent's hands and threw it into the fireplace. "Hide Jacob, right now!" she cried. "Do it!"

Vincent was clearly astonished, but before he could asked what in the world had gotten into her, every candle and lantern in the room suddenly guttered and flickered out, leaving them all in complete blackness.