"Tell her what was wrong
I sometimes think too much
But say nothing at all
Tell her from this high terrain
I am ready now to fall."
--Del Amitri, "Tell Her This";
Sarah glared at Oberon, hands on her hips, standing in the throne
room with her husband and Stephan behind her. "Where,"
she said shortly, "is Aeris?"
"I…" He shrugged. "I let her go to
Fantasia."
"You what?" she cried, Jareth and Stephan backing her
up with shocked glances.
"Why did you do that?" demanded the Fey king. "She’s
a disaster waiting to happen! Ever since—"
Oberon jumped in quickly, shooting Stephan a single warning
glance. "Puck advised it would be best."
"And you just let her go?" Sarah shook her head.
"I knew I should have gone. She would have listened to
me."
"I know you think so, Sarah, but she would not have."
Jareth spoke from his throne, his face pale and hard as stone.
"She made a promise, Oberon. Why didn’t you remind her
of her promise?"
"I did."
"And her answer?"
Oberon looked at Sarah. "She said you would
understand."
"Well, I don’t," she told him, going to sit by the
window, not wanting to face everyone. Broken promises hurt, and
that was the truth.
Oberon had hated telling her that, but it wasn’t as if she
was alone in her misery. Everyone in that room was taken up with
their own private distress. Sarah looked as if she’d barely
slept in the past few days, and Jareth wasn’t much better.
The nightmares, of course. Sarah was sad about Aeris not
returning, Jareth looked furious. He knew what he thought Aeris
didn’t (and what Aeris thought he didn’t);
Sarah’s memories were resurfacing. He was going to lose
everything. Stephan, for his part, looked confused and wounded in
only the way a suitor can. He cared for Aeris, and Oberon
suspected there was a little jealousy in his heart about the
subject of her quest. He had already been burned by Aeris and
Jareth’s betrayal. Oberon was concerned that, given the
right motivation, Stephan would gladly give Sarah’s magical
mental block a good swift kick out of the way. He was not a cruel
man, but there were shadows behind his good humor, and Oberon
knew it.
Well, they would have to deal with it. Aeris was doing what Aeris
wanted, and they couldn’t stop her…not if what Puck
said was true, and it invariably was. And now Oberon found it his
job to soften the blow.
"I did not take this lightly. I went there with every
intention of bringing her home."
"Why didn’t you?" Jareth asked angrily.
"Because first of all, Puck told me something important.
That Aeris is being propelled by more than her quest. There are
forces working for her that we would do well not to interfere
with. If I had denied her, she would have been pushed back on
course by something else, and it would not have been pretty.
Secondly, I believe that after what she gave, she has come too
far to stop."
Sarah turned back to him. "How so?"
Oberon glanced at Jareth. "You didn’t tell her?"
"I didn’t want to frighten her."
Sarah’s face became determined. "What? Is there
something I needed to know here?"
Jareth sighed. "Aeris had to pay for the information she got
from the Sea Witch. The price was her ability to shed tears—"
"And you didn’t tell me!? What, didn’t you think
it was important?"
"Yes, it was, but as I said, I didn’t want to upset you
any more than you already are."
Stephan rolled his eyes. "Oh, you can argue about it later.
Right now, we have to figure out how to stop her. She’s in
very, very grave danger."
"Sarah," said Oberon gently, "are you familiar
with the stories of Fantasia?"
She shook her head.
"There is a place there, the Southern Oracle. It can answer
any question. But to get there, one must pass through two
different gates. The first is the gate of the sphinxes. Any one
who does not feel their own worth, shall not be allowed to pass
through. The second is a magic mirror that reveals the looker’s
true self."
Sarah did not grasp the full measure of why this was dangerous.
Surely Aeris, as the one and only Herald of the Underground, felt
her own worth. Surely Aeris could look upon her true self.
Jareth was one step ahead. Perhaps Aeris, he thought, could make
it past the first trial in her ignorance of what had happened
between them. But the second? That would reveal the truth to her.
And he doubted her ability to overcome that.
Only Stephan and Oberon saw all the implications. She would never
even make it that far. Aeris, guilty and cursed, would never
escape the gaze of the sphinxes.
"I love a man who can appreciate a good rhyme," Puck
was saying, in his smaller form, floating along high at Fezzik’s
shoulder.
"Well, I do get them some of the time."
"Please," Aeris said. "I’m begging you. No
more."
"No need to be so sore," Puck told her.
The giant and the Fae had hit it off perhaps a little too well
for Aeris’ tastes. They had been rhyming fairly steadily for
the past two hours, chatting back and forth like mad poets as the
three of them walked together under the Fae starlight, on the way
into Fantasia at Oberon’s allowance. At first, Fezzik had
been undeniably fascinated by Puck’s incessant rhyming, but
reluctant to join in…after all, that was his and Inigo’s
game. But Puck had easily drawn him out, and now they were
rhyming like champs. It had never mattered to Fezzik whether or
not the rhymes made sense, but he was especially delighted by the
fact that all of Puck’s did, and now he was completely
enthralled. And Aeris was beginning to get a headache.
"I’m not!" Aeris insisted, ironically frowning in
her first show of good humor since her brush with the witch.
"Hmph," she said, tossing her head.
Puck had decided the best course was to go by foot, conserving as
much magic as possible. He never said why, but it seemed
reasonable to assume that it was because he intended to help as
much as he could. Puck was leading them into Fantasia, which was
connected to the Underground in the Fae and Fey kingdoms by a
suspension bridge—over what, Puck hadn’t said. They had
left the treeline only a few minutes ago, breaking out into the
night. Now Puck reached out and pulled Aeris a little more
closely to his side. It was dark still, even with the starlight
on their faces, and they listened to him carefully when he spoke.
"Use caution here. The bridge is near."
Aeris thoughtfully peered into the darkness. "Puck, I don’t
see anything…"
He smiled at her with uncharacteristic nervousness. "Well,
it’s very near, I must admit…Actually, Herald, you
stand on it."
"Oh, why didn’t you say…" At that point,
Aeris looked down.
Puck had said suspension bridge, but it had only been half the
story. What he should have said was actually suspension of
disbelief bridge…but it sounded quite ridiculous and would
have wreaked havoc on his rhyme pattern. He had assumed that he
could get Aeris and Fezzik over it easily enough, by not even
telling them what was happening until they were over. But Aeris
had wandered a little too close to the side of the bridge, and he
had thought it was the appropriate time to break the news to her.
He had unfortunately underestimated her practicality, and watched
in dismay as her eyes grew impossibly wide with horror.
She stared down into a void of darkness, where starlight
glittered on a river, running through a black canyon. She took a
huge breath and screamed piercingly into the night, the sensation
of standing on something solid suddenly leaving her. There was a
funny sort of feeling in her stomach, one most of the Aboveground
world would associate with a car going over a hill, or being in
an elevator. And then she was really falling.
Fezzik reached out easily and grabbed her hand, stopping the fall
at the last possible moment. She went right on screaming, her
fright turning to fury. "You little Fae freak!" she was
shrieking at Puck. "When I get my hands on you I’ll
make you sorry you were ever born—or whatever it is you
were!" Her feet kicked at the air, her eyes blazed.
Puck sighed and explained the bridge as Aeris dangled over the
side. He knelt, giving her a patient, infuriating look.
"Herald Aeris, this bridge is decidedly strange, but not
beyond what your mind can range. To keep the unenchanted from
entering this land, it’s creator installed the bridge where
we stand. One must have faith to cross its length. If not, well…"
He spread his hands, indicating her rather desperate situation.
"You were lucky to have Fezzik’s strength."
"You mean I have only to believe it’s here and it
is?" she cried. "But that’s so…simple…"
She stopped, realizing that she had not managed to accomplish it.
"Fezzik is still standing, though," she said. "He
must not have heard."
"No, he did. He just took me at my word."
She frowned. "Alright. Can you pull me up now?"
Fezzik did as she asked, taking her in his arms as if she weighed
no more than a feather. "You really ought to be more
careful," he told her. "You get into more trouble than
even Inigo."
"I’m sorry," she said, meaning it. Then she
glanced at him. "Inigo?’
Fezzik chuckled. "I will tell you all about him, if you
want. We have had many adventures since we left you."
"I’d like that," she said immediately, her eyes
lighting up at the prospect.
Fezzik set her down carefully, letting her test the bridge that
wasn’t there. She didn’t look down. Instead, she looked
at Fezzik, standing tall and easy in midair, and pushed her mind
over into believing that she could. It was an easy trick for her,
really. It was rather like staring into the Escher Room for a
long time. There was that first horrible moment where the angles
and perspectives hurt the eye and mind, and then there was that
slow adaptation to it, and then the inevitable acceptance of
walking upside-down. Aeris could feel herself adjusting to the
new idea much the same way.
"You see? It’s as simple as one, two…"
Aeris had momentarily forgotten about Puck in her philosophizing
about the bridge and her eagerness to hear about Inigo. She
promptly remembered him, and on the heels of that, how angry she
was with him. She grabbed his odd little ears, stopping him in
mid-sentence.
"If you ever even consider doing something like that again,
I’ll—"
He sprang suddenly to human size before her, and she was holding
onto the ears of a man a good foot taller than she. Her arms were
well above her own head. "You’ll what?" he asked
calmly.
She didn’t want to be intimidated, and that was probably why
her mouth kept running. But she had the distinct feeling that she
was getting in over her head with this ancient, and probably very
powerful, Fae. "I’ll tie these pointy ears of yours
under your chin," she snapped, inwardly bemoaning her
wayward mouth.
She had expected him to lash out or possibly even laugh
sardonically at her threat. He smiled gently, and reached up,
removing her hands from his ears. He put them down at her sides
and then—of all things—patted her head.
Then he walked forward, shrinking as he went. "There’s
still a very long way to go. Can’t stop here, I’m sure
you know."
Fezzik shrugged to Aeris, his face mystified.
She fumed. Somehow it was worse than getting into some kind of
confrontation on the invisible bridge. It was worse than him
mocking her with a laugh. It was even worse than not dignifying
her with a response. He had treated her threat as one would the
ravings of a child in a tantrum. And that stopped her cold.
Here she was, thirty-six and her temper under no better control
than it had been when she’d first become Herald. He’d
treated her exactly as she’d behaved, and it stung. She was
silent, crossing the bridge after Puck through the darkness.
Her short fuse was renowned, and she had always been a bit
uncomfortable with it. She was easily the most likely to lash out
in an adverse situation. But the storm always died out as quickly
as it had come, and she was not necessarily impatient or violent.
It didn’t excuse her behavior, though.
No one had ever reacted that way to one of her sudden leaps from
gentle to furious. And there the Fae was, walking ahead,
pretending as if nothing had happened. But he’d forced her
to take stock of just what those leaps were accomplishing, and
she had never done that before. She was grateful, and a little
unnerved by how easily he’d done that. She knew one thing
for certain: She would never threaten him again.
"Don’t take it too hard," Fezzik said, patting her
on the shoulder. "You would have really scared me," he
said helpfully.
She grinned at him as they walked on, feeling a little charged
and determined by her revelation. "Thanks, Fezzik. You
really saved my life back there. I would have died without
you."
He ducked his head almost bashfully. "Well, when you’re
so much bigger and stronger than everyone, you have a duty to
people smaller than you. You have to protect them."
"That’s a very noble way of looking at things."
Aeris was quiet and thoughtful for a moment. "You feel bad
about what happened to Inigo, don’t you? You know it wasn’t
your fault, right?"
"No," he said quickly. Too quickly. She caught her
breath at the obviously false reply. "It wasn’t my
fault. It was just too strong for me."
"You protect Inigo from a lot, don’t you?"
His face brightened. "Inigo is my best friend in the world.
He would treat me just the same if I was a little weakling."
"You mean he sees the real you. The person behind the
strongman."
"Exactly," he said, pleased to have her putting it into
words. "Inigo knows I like to rhyme. He never laughs at me,
unless I mean for him to. And he knows my favorite color. And my
birthday."
She smiled. "I’ll bet most people have never even asked
you those things."
"No," he said firmly. "All they wanted to know was
how many men I could fight. And they were never happy with the
answer."
She studied him in the darkness. He was such a huge figure beside
her, ambling along with careful grace, so conscious of his size
and the way it affected the world around him. He sought to
protect all the people smaller than him. One had to do no more
than to ask his help to receive it.
"Inigo and I have had lots and lots of adventures. And
sometimes we got very scared, but Inigo never gave up. Like the
time we went into Humperdink’s Zoo of Death to find the man
in black…"
And so, Fezzik began to tell her the story of their long, dark
descent through Humperdink’s bizarre, underground preserve,
from the first to the fifth level, where they found the man in
black dead.
Puck instructed they make camp shortly after they crossed the
bridge, and he produced some sort odd little tent for them, and
then left them inside, going out into the night, playing
watchman. He needed no sleep.
And even though Fezzik and Aeris did, they talked on into the
night, Fezzik telling her about the Zoo, and how Inigo had killed
the bats for him, and had been so wonderfully brave.
When Aeris dropped off to sleep that night, she dreamt of Inigo,
chained in the darkness, and bats with red eyes that seemed to
fly soundlessly around him…and a familiar, horrible laugh
she could not place, would not remember.