"How exciting," Claire gushed. The little goblin maid was bustling around the room, making it suitable for a young woman. In the meantime, Neeva emerged from behind the screen wearing a white shift. "A lady in the castle," the maid went on. "No one would have dreamed it." She chuckled, laying an armload of dresses on one of the large chairs she’d had put in the room. "Maybe there’ll be some changes around here."

Neeva looked up, curious. "What needs to change?"

Claire gave her an amused glance. "Haven’t seen the throne room yet, eh?" She laughed in her good-natured way. "You just wait. It’s a sight, let me tell you." Her voice dropped conspiratorially. "I really can’t blame him. It’s not a great life, looking after a bunch of goblins, all alone in this big castle. You know, most of the goblins aren’t on my level, brains-wise, and I’m not all that bright to begin with."

"Oh, no," began Neeva, but Claire waved her hand at her.

"It’s all right. I’m one of the brighter ones, and that’s enough for me. But even the ones like me, well, we aren’t much company for a lonely king. I always say the best thing for a lonely king is a pretty young queen." Claire winked at her.

"Perhaps he doesn’t want one."

Claire put her hands on her hips. "Well, maybe he does and maybe he doesn’t, but I know one thing. This place would sure be nicer if we had one."

Neeva shrugged. She wanted to offer some parallel situation she had experienced, or perhaps tell the goblin maid some wisdom she had gained through the years. But she could remember nothing. She felt her memories inside her, but every time she sought them, she could only grasp the secret, silent mist of dreams that slipped through her fingers like clouds… Strange, she thought. How could she have touched the clouds to know?

She went to the window, to survey the place she was in. Her eyes saw first the clear blue sky, but then, as they traveled down, she gasped.

A huge maze stretched out before her. From the window she attempted to trace a path through the intricate puzzle, and failed. "It’s amazing," she said finally.

Claire glanced up at her and saw what she meant. She shuddered. "It’s horrible."

"Why?"

"The game. It’s got it’s purpose, that maze. You don’t realize what Jareth is, do you? What we goblins are."

Neeva shook her head. "I have to admit I don’t."

"Well I’ll tell you. Once upon a time, I was a little girl who played mean tricks on my older brother. And he wished for the goblins to come and take me away. And they did. Jareth makes it fair enough. If the wishing party would like to try to get their child back, they must solve the Labyrinth, right up to this very castle. Not many make it very far. Only a few have made it here." Claire sighed heavily. "All of us were children once."

"That’s awful!" cried Neeva. Her hands balled up into fists, and a breeze from the window pushed her white hair around her face. She was incredibly beautiful for a moment, and then the wind died, and she was simply pretty again. "What can be done?"

"Nothing now," said Claire. "That’s just the way it is."

"I want to speak to him, Jareth."

The maid frowned. "No, you don’t."

"I do," she insisted.

"Maybe some other time. But I like you, and I’m not taking you to him yet. Now," Claire said, easily changing the subject. "What color?" She indicated the dresses on the chair.

Neeva held up her hands. "They’re all very pretty."

"Well, what color looks best on you?"

She gave the maid a wry smile. "I don’t remember."

*****

Jareth was thinking about her again. He hated it, and he would have given anything to not be thinking about her, but there she was in his mind. He didn’t know why it should bother him; he had become quite used to thinking about Sarah, so another girl in there shouldn’t matter too much. But as his day wore on, he found himself coming back to the mystery that was Neeva, and puzzling over how she had managed to not only get into his Labyrinth, but make it as far as the Fiery Forest.

There was, of course, the fact that she was very attractive, but it seemed almost an afterthought. He knew that wasn’t what kept bringing her to his mind. It was her mystery, her missing past. Who was she? What was she? Did she really not know herself? Those questions played in his mind, keeping it away from the problems in the Labyrinth and the goblins around him. He had to admit…it wasn’t an entirely unwelcome distraction.

He finally gave up thinking about other things all together, and ordered a few quiet hours for himself, sending all the goblins out of his throne room. He sat there, in the stillness, giving himself up to the puzzle entirely.

Neeva’s eyes. He’d never seen anything quite like them. They were grey at first glance, but when one got closer, you could see the light in the them. They were actually silver. And her hair…it was as white as an old crone’s, but long and thick and straight. She was such a strange-looking creature. Jareth tapped his boot on the floor impatiently. What was it making him think of? There was something to her…

"Your majesty?"

He sighed disgustedly. "Yes Krag?"

A goblin waddled cautiously into the throne room. "I know you said no disruptions, but the ball decorations are being prepared, and there was an accident with the chandeliers. One in particular, really, the antique one with the little dangly glass things on it…"

"Krag, come here."

The goblin obediently came forward. Jareth smiled pleasantly and kicked it across the floor.

"From my chandelier to you," he said. "Now watch those fool charges of yours more carefully. And no more interruptions." As he scampered away, Jareth’s eyes lit with a thought… "Krag!" he called, stopping his servant.

Krag turned warily around. "Your majesty?"

"Will Agatha be at the party?" he asked.

The goblin looked surprised. "Why, no, sire. You’ve expressly forbidden all of the sisters."

Jareth smiled. "By special invitation, I would like Agatha to join us at the ball."

Krag gasped. "Sire, I can’t!"

"Whyever not?"

"She’ll…she always…but…"

"Hop to it, Krag, or my chandelier will have more to say."

He sighed and began to walk resignedly out the door. "Foolishness. Rash foolishness," he muttered as soon as he was out of the king’s earshot. Not that it would have mattered if he’d said it in front of him. Jareth was completely lost in thought.

"Agatha, The seer…" he said, tossing a crystal up and down in his palm. A rounded image of Neeva appeared there, floating pale in the depths of the glass.

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