Prologue

Something was different, Jareth could sense it in the air.

It was otherworldly. It had drawn him to this very spot in the middle of the night, in the Upper world, just like how the Labyrinth pulled in its runners. It was a tangible bond, a calling. Apart from this calling was very different from the unpolluted pull the Labyrinth used. This was drenched in feelings.

Jareth had never been fond of feelings.

In his owl form, he low and perched lightly on the tree branch which overlooked a bedroom window. Inside many of the inhabitants of the Underground danced and made merry with each other. It seemed that the celebrations where in full swing. The Labyrinth's victor was of course in the centre of attention, and there was little thought for their defeated King. Had it only been an hour in this world that the little champion had defeated the Labyrinth and spurned him. He was sure that many of his people thought he was dead. Indeed, maybe even the girl thought he was dead. He scoffed at the thought, which was a bad idea in owl form was he coughed up some white, sparkling feathers. He would never understand how an insignificant barn owl had become his animal façade. At that the little owl ruffled his feathers slightly and made an almost human huffing sound. Surely, he should have been a lion or something fearsome?

Not that a lion was particularly inconspicuous, and right now he was glad of his owl-form. He watched as that Hogsworth creature began a toast to the defeat of the 'tyrant' King and the victory of the girl! Really, there is no respect for monarchy these days, Jareth thought as he eyed the dwarf, calculating how to bog him sufficiently enough that his ancestors would still smell the stench in their veins. His keen eyes traveled the room until they landed on the long-haired, rosy-checked girl who rejected him. Something tugged inside of him, followed by a sharp pain so unexpected that it almost knocked him off his tree branch. It ripped him through the middle, making his small lungs contract tightly in his chest. He tipped upside-down and clung fast to the bark with his talons. Batting his wings hard, he managed to position himself upright again, but the pain was still there…aching, burning. He could feel his body wanting to change form, pushing out the owl and bringing back the man. But he could not stay in the Upperworld in his original form, he would be trapped. Without thinking of what he was leaving behind, Jareth set off for the Underground, to his chamber in the goblin kingdom and his physicians.

Something had changed. Something terrible.