Chapter 17
(201PK)
Matthew Fraggle, dazed from the cave-in, stared in shock as Digit sputtered and sparked, his gray eyes looking even more lifeless than Matthew thought possible. He had only met this strange male creature today, but the sorry sight of the dying was something he could never get used to.
Gobo was a small Fraggle, having seen only a few winters, and Matthew sighed as Gobo brought home a pile of sweet potatoes taken from the human garden nearby. In return for a portion of the crop, Gobo and Matthew offered surveillance and protection against vicious creatures that might harm the tender vegetables and fruits.
“Uncle Matt,” Gobo whined, “are you just gonna sit there on that rock all day an’ watch the grass grow?”
Matthew sniffled. “Perhaps, young Fraggle.” Matthew glanced at him. “I thought you didn’t WANT to scout the farms today, little Gobo. YOU said scouting was for old Fraggles who couldn’t even get their pants on.”
Gobo rolled his eyes and set down the sweet potatoes in a large pile. “Okay, okay … so I changed my mind.”
“You mustn’t be so indecisive, young Gobo,” Matt advised him. “At some point, you’re just going to have to take charge.”
“’Ey, I got us the deal with the humans, didn’t I?”
“Pffbt. You were merely shaken to your tail that they were going to kill us.”
“Was not!”
“Was too!” Matt sighed and stared at the clouds as airships flew by, his tone becoming more somber. “Little Gobo, I … I just want you to have ALL the skills necessary for a young Fraggle to survive on the surface.”
Gobo sat next to him, his tail waving back and forth lazily. His voice was filled with youthful curiosity. “What was it like, in the Rock, Uncle Matt?”
Uncle Matt smiled. He patted the young Fraggle on the head. “Someday, young Gobo … someday … you’ll get your chance to be one with the Rock yourself.” He coughed and cleared his throat, standing up abruptly, nearly knocking Gobo back. “Until that day, my good nephew … there are sweet potatoes that need peeling, and they aren’t going to do it themselves.”
Digit coughed, saliva mixing with electric sparks. He was shaking. “The Rock … out … of danger?” he asked quietly.
“Depends on what you mean by ‘danger’, I suppose,” Matt offered back. “There seem to be too many rocks in front of the entrance. I guess we’ll just have to sit and wait for a rescue.”
Digit shook his head. “N-n-no, too … too danger … ous,” he commented in broken words. “Have to … have to … leave here. Find … Captain.” The white light that shined from his pupils went dark. Ironically, only when he was dead did he finally resemble a living being at all.
Matthew rubbed his nose, placed some small flat rocks over Digit’s dark eyes, and walked deeper into the tunnels.
Maybe, he had to get used to it, Matthew thought to himself. It was the only way to go forward.
<><><>
John splashed some water from a large cave pond on his face, sighing with relief. The caves had become so horribly muggy.
And there was that awful sensation that the humidity itself was sucking the very lives out of everyone in the exploratory crew. He saw Aeryn waiting behind him through the reflection in the water. Standing up, he turned to her and nodded for her to use the pond.
Aeryn silently pushed past him and started to cup her hands to drink. Wiping the water from her mouth, she noted with an official tone, “The temperature appears to be climbing. Let’s find these frelling crystals and get out of here.”
John wiped his brow with his shirt. “I get that crystals look nice on the table and manage to frell up plows during planting season … but what does Scorpius want with them anyway?”
Aeryn inhaled deeply and glanced at him. “Have you ever been offworld, John?”
John shook his head. “Been meaning to, I guess. It’s just … things kept getting in the way.”
Aeryn nodded. “It seems like that for everyone, I suppose. Twelve thousand cycles ago, there was a crisis on the planet Arnessk. A wise and noble race disappeared from historical records. No one knows what happened to them. Still, the legends indicate that it was a more impossible time, when life did not seem to throw so many obstacles in the way of happiness.” She sighed and shrugged, staring at the pond. “I guess something else happened.”
“And what makes you say that?”
Aeryn smirked. “Because two thousand cycles later … there were no more legends.”
<><><>
Sarah wrung a soaking piece of Zhaan’s robes onto her head as she lay on the cave floor as Mokey watched sadly.
Zhaan smiled serenely and stayed her hand. “I cannot help you find Jareth, my dear friend. I fear you will have to do this on your own.”
Mokey gasped and held Zhaan’s other hand, caressing it even though her blue skin was beginning to exude a disgusting gel-like substance. “We’re not going to leave you behind, High Priestess.”
Zhaan chuckled, wincing briefly in pain. “My child … if I am so loved, so cherished … obey my wishes.”
Mokey sobbed. “But … but … you can’t die! You’re just as much a part of the prophecy as we are!”
Zhaan caressed her gently. “Mokey, you’ve begun. You’ve begun all this. Listen to me, now: prophecies, I am learning, are but guides.”
Sarah wiped her tears away and turned from the scene. “What good are guides that don’t lead you anywhere?”
Zhaan, despite the agony coursing through her body, sat up straight and grabbed Sarah by the leg. “Sarah … after everything we’ve seen, how can you say we’ve seen nothing so often?”
Sarah didn’t look at her. Her voice was bitter. “We’ve seen what we’ll never be, Zhaan,” she commented through gritted teeth. “We’re running fast, and far, and at the end … all that will be there is an empty room.”
Water poured up from a crack in the cave floor, falling upwards toward the ceiling. A human male with long, stringy black hair, dressed in peasant clothing, a bejeweled bandana draped around his forehead, climbed out of the emerging pool and looked around, his long beaded goatee dripping in water. His voice was suave and enchanting, if a little uneven, as though he had taken in too much fermented contala tea.
“I’m so terribly sorry,” he blurted out, his hands gesturing wildly. “I find myself in the peculiar position of being in precisely the wrong position, and as wonderful as positioning myself in the center of such a diverse array of blossoming femininity might appear to some, it is of the utmost importance I get to the right position forthwith. So, if you’ll excuse me, ladies ….” With that, he jumped up into the pool forming on the cave ceiling, the water disappearing with him.
Sarah stared at the ceiling.
Mokey did the same. “That was … bizarre,” she noted. She glanced back at Zhaan. “Didn’t you think so?”
Zhaan lay still, not answering, a peaceful countenance frozen on her face.
<><><>
Jareth tumbled onto the cave floor, cringing in a fetal position, tears streaming from his eyes. His sobs echoed throughout the large cavern as the swirling mists coated him. He clutched at his face, as though it were a mask he found himself desperate to tear off. “Call out the guards!” he screamed. “Take the baby and hide it!” His voice became younger and even more fearful. “I try to do the right thing – to be responsible – and what good does it do anyone? Nothing I do matters. It never did.” As he writhed, Mizumi’s voice curdled out of his mouth. “From that day forth, we drifted from world to world together, sometimes as conquerors, sometimes invisible and harmless as a breeze.” His voice returned to normal, though it was furious. “Everything you have wanted I have done!” He sobbed, his body beginning to relax as he resigned himself. He had been suffering for what seemed like an eternity, a multitude of lives from the past, the future, the present … even other “presents” that seemed so familiar and yet so foreign to him.
He finally managed to open an eye. A dark-skinned woman, her sea-green hair glistening in the mist, smiled, which seemed to calm his tortured form as his robes melted away to reveal a black outfit meant to symbolize a regal yet threatening presence. He panted, but his crying stopped. “It isn’t too late to live up to your potential, Jareth,” she informed him gently. “Use this wish.” She kissed him on the forehead.
“I … I don’t know what to wish for,” Jareth muttered timidly.
She laughed. “I want you to thrive.” She caressed his hair. Standing, she held a tiny light in her hands. She threw back a hand and heaved it into the air. The light disappeared through the cave ceiling. Looking back at Jareth, she shrugged, stating plainly, “I give to thee, so little of me, sweet as the fruit of the red cherry tree. Laughter so free, love like the sea, dreams are the gift I give back to thee, a gift from the dear heart of me.” Her warm laughter carried through the air as she slowly dissipated with the mist.
Jareth awoke, unaware of how much time had passed. He felt strong, easily sitting up without even the slightest headache …
…
… surprised at the white and tan feathered outfit that formed tightly around his well-curved frame, as though his very clothes were but a reflection of the power coursing through him.
Author’s Note: Some of the dialogue come from either episodes of Farscape, volume 4 of Return to Labyrinth, the movie Labyrinth, or episodes of Fraggle Rock. And the cameo in this chapter by the coolest pirate ever was dreamt up while watching that fourth movie, On Stranger Tides or whatever. I mean, c’mon, you get to a magical Fountain of Youth by entering a cave, using a musical incantation (or, he assumed one was needed), and it depends on a very flexible sense of time and space. I will maintain through my dying day that Jack was in part of Fraggle Rock, LOL.
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So that cameo was what I thought it was. Abso-blooming-lutely brilliant!