Howl's Moving Castle Fan Fiction ❯ Beyond the Indigo Veil ❯ Chapter 2: Mirror's Reflection ( Chapter 2 )

Beyond the Indigo Veil: Part I of the Wallmaker Saga

Chapter 2: Mirror's Reflection

It is said that love, like time, heals all wounds. Howl found himself musing about how quickly things could return to normal. Granny Witch and Markl returned home with a great deal of fussing. There had been so many tears again that Howl had instituted a rule that only laughter would be allowed in the house from then on, enforced by threat of laughing powder.

Sophie and Howl had become instant heroes because of their efforts in the village of Market Chipping. No doubt wizard Suliman had informed the King of their triumph over the Dark. The village returned to normal almost over night, and they had to stop answering the door under the stairs because so many people came to express their thanks and present gifts. Howl sent Markl out to gather up the presents from time to time, commenting that it would be rude to refuse them. The majority were for Sophie anyway, and he made sure that she opened every one of them. When she began to refuse them, he simply piled them in front of her door.

Sophie was the real hero in all of this anyway, and Howl told that to Prince Justin in no certain terms when the golden dandy paid a visit to give thanks in the Royal “We.” He had dripped charm all over Sophie in such a manner that Howl had trouble containing himself. He had almost turned the prince back into a turnip right there on the spot.

However, Justin's visit had not been all smiles and roses. The Prince of Marda, Ingary's neighbor to the east, had brought with him a letter from wizard Suliman. Howl found himself having mixed reactions to the contents.

He had known for some time that his old master was in ill health and that the peace negotiations were not going very well with their neighbor to the north, a country called Tyrn. Apparently word had gotten to them that a great daemon had been loose in Market Chipping, which was very close to Tyrn's southern boarder. Magic was not as common in the northern country, which took a more superstitious view of the craft. Apparently the ambassadors were making all kinds of claims about the nature of the daemon. Things did not sound promising

Howl had no intentions of becoming involved. He had too recently tasted true sorrow, and he was not going to jeopardize the happiness of his family again. He did not like the subtle undertone of Suliman's letter, which insinuated that she fully expected Howl to take the position as Royal Sorcerer when she moved on to the otherworld. The raven-haired man had enough on his mind. Putting on his most charming smile for the Prince, Howl promised in vague terms that he had nothing to promise.

In the days that followed Justin's visit, Howl spent a great deal of time with his apprentice Markl, mostly out of guilt for having pushed him aside so quickly in his grief. The two of them romped about the castle playing with many of the toys that the townsfolk had left for them, Cal often not far in tow. Granny Witch was simply happy to be home again, and sat mumbling in her chair with Heen sleeping in her lap.

Sophie and Howl kept their separate rooms, although hers remained empty on most nights. In the quiet hours of the morning, they talked of everything, but mostly magic. The evening that Prince Justin came to visit, perhaps feeling threatened by the advances of the Royal “We,” Howl brought up their engagement.

Howl, of course, wanted to have a huge and extravagant wedding and Sophie wanted a small family affair. Howl wanted to be married right away and Sophie thought it best to wait for things to settle down. Instead of quarreling like so many other couple, they ended up laughing about the fact that they couldn't agree upon a single thing. It did not matter, they knew that they were destined to be together; their magic, like the rings on their fingers, had already sealed the contract in their hearts if not already on paper.

Howl did not like facing things if he could avoid them. Sophie had called him the most notorious of slitherer-outers a long time ago before both of their curses had been lifted. It was not that he was a coward; he simply did not like to deal with unpleasantness if at all possible. The world was too full of sadness to focus on troubles all the time. Hence he did not dwell upon the seven days of utter wretchedness he had endured, nor did he care to recall the thoughts he had harbored about throwing himself from the flying castle's parapets after the mirror had smashed. Some would call this childish behavior. But Howl knew how to recognize the importance of situations when necessary. And he decided that dwelling wasn't necessary.

He had noticed changes in Sophie since her return from seven days in the otherworld. It was not that she had suddenly accepted her magic, whereas before if had seriously frightened her. Nor was it the fact that she knew a great deal about magic now. This he discovered after Markl asked her a question about a particularly hard assignment, which Sophie deftly solved. There was a hint of sadness in her eyes and sometimes he caught her staring, deep in thought.

She had never spoken of what had passed on those days. The only indication that it had taken place was the conspicuous disappearance of ever mirror in the house save the large glass in the bathroom. Howl often found it covered with a cloth. And then there was the northern corner of Sophie's room. On a small shelf high in the wall sat the locked silver box that held the remaining mirror shards. Directly beneath it leaned Suliman's stick.

At first Howl had decided that her silence was simply her own way of slithering-out of talking about what must have been a most horrific ordeal. He knew that Sophie had accomplished a monumental task in escaping the Dark. Howl did not need Suliman to tell him that Sophie was marked by great magic. But still, his curiosity was getting the better of him.

That morning Howl was nestled into the veritable wall of pillows at the back of his bed. Sophie was curled up under his arm with the side of her face pressed against his chest. He stroked her hair gently, planting a kiss on top of her head at random intervals. Encouraged by the frank intimacy of their previous conversation, Howl decided to broach the subject.

“Sophie, what happened?”

His future wife let out a sigh and burrowed her head into his shoulder.

“I'm sorry, Sophie. I shouldn't have asked,” He said quickly, voice tinged with contrition. He held her close but she shook her head and looked up at him, catching his attention with her serious brown eyes.

“No. It's my own fault for trying to act as though it never happened,” She looked away and settled into the crook of his arm again.

He felt the prickle of magic run between them; in his othersight the wizard watched as a slight sparkled glimmered here and there about the woman in his arms.

“It was simple really. I knew that you were waiting for me in the mortal world. My love for you gave me strength enough to break away from the plain of suffering. There was a wall, and at first it would not let me pass. But it relented and the Dark remained behind, trapped by the barrier. I did not know it took me so long to find my way back to you.”

“Time moves much differently in the otherworld. It is a miracle you were able to find your way back to the portal,” Howl's serious voice gave her an inkling of what a feat that accomplishment had been.

“Your ring helped guide me,” Sophie held up her hand, the red jewel set into the silver ring on her index finger glimmered in the dim light. The wind chimes overhead gave an ominous peal.

“After the shadow took you into the otherworld, I was able to see the Dark for what it actually was. It was not simply a backlash of magic that had gone bad as Suliman suggests. Someone put it in that mirror on purpose.”

Sophie pondered that for a moment, “Something it said as it faded away disturbed me. It spoke of others. We should ask Mrs. Goose where the mirror came from.”

The old woman who owned the curiosity shop had survived the ordeal and perseveringly cleaned up her storefront for reopening. Her shop had gained a magical reputation. Young wizards and witches of all skills often frequented the store in search of magical bobbles and cursed cooking pots.

“Turnip-head brought a letter from Suliman today” Howl spoke quickly, his intuition tickling between his ears, “Apparently the negotiations between Ingary and Tyrn are going poorly. News of the Dark sent their ambassadors into a tizzy.”

“Sometimes I think Cal is right. I'm beginning to understand why you don't like being shackled by obligations.”

“There's one obligation I'm looking forward to being shackled by,” Howl turned and brought his face very close to Sophie, his liquid blue eyes melted her heart.

“There will be fireworks, fields of roses and silk, and a cake as big as the castle so we can feed thousands of guests!”

Sophie giggled and shrank into the pillows with a grin on her face, “I was thinking about just dressing the castle up with some flowers from the backyard, and making a nice dinner for our family.”

“Big wedding!” Demanded Howl, his face alight with his most charming, yet mischievous grin.

“Little wedding!” Sophie stood her ground, crossing her arms over her chest and doing her best to look serious and unperturbed by his closeness.

“Medium wedding?” Howl whispered, his lips a mere fraction from her own.

“Done!” She murmured, and then squealed in glee as Howl pounced her.

xXx

It took then nearly an hour to walk four blocks in Market Chipping village. Every store owner and townsperson wanted to shake their hands and offer their thanks. Howl graciously received their compliments for both of them. All the attention made Sophie nervous. Somehow Howl managed to please every small crowd with his dazzling smile and mellifluous tenor laugh. Every townsperson went away charmed and smiling.

“I don't know how you do this, Howl,” Sophie whispered, and flashed a watery smile at a couple of woman who leaned out of windows waving their handkerchiefs. It took her a moment to realize they were waving at Howl, then her faced turned sour and she took hold of the wizard's hand in a proprietary manner. This made Howl grin. Sophie noticed that the raven-haired man was in excellent form that morning, glowing like the green jewels that hung from his ears.

Howl's eating all this attention with a silver spoon, she thought to herself.

“This is excellent for business, Sophie,” He said without moving his lips, the dazzling smile on his face remained perfect. Sophie had learned that Howl had many unique talents, some of which did not involve magic.

“We do need to make a living,” His disembodied voice spoke in a matter of fact way. She replied with a grumpy huff and but her mood faltered significantly as she caught sight of Mrs. Goose's shop.

“You don't need to come in, Sophie.” Howl's kind voice gave her strength.

“No. This is our responsibility now.” Howl grinned at her use of the inclusive pronoun.

As they neared the shop, Sophie saw that that the store looked exactly as it had before. However, this time it was absolutely packed. Sophie couldn't help but notice that many of the customers looked a great deal like the blond haired Howl she had first met. The frogfish look on his face as he caught sight of the be-spangled dandies made her giggle.

“What?” He demanded crossly.

“Nothing,” She replied, just barely containing herself.

It was then that she caught sight of the medium sized plaque that stood in the shop's window. The white board was painted with strong black letters that advertised the storefront as the location of the great battle between the Black Daemon and the Wizard Howl and the Witch Sophie. Someone had illustrated the scene, and a great black blob loomed menacingly over two human figures: a mottle-color clad blond man and a silver-haired woman in grey. Each of the figures was outlined in a golden nimbus.

“It seems your former self has left an impression on the town,” Sophie mused.

“They never do get it right in the stories. Besides, you did all the work.”

Sophie was about to reply when three girls in pretty dresses passed her by, each of them had tinted their hair a silver color and cut it short like the image in the sign. It was Sophie's turn to make a frogfish face, which made Howl snigger.

“Remember, dear heart, flattery is the highest form of compliment. Or is that imitation? I can't remember.”

“Sophie, dear? Is that you?” The original silver-haired woman turned and caught sight of Mrs. Goose hobbling toward her with a basket full of groceries.

“Mrs. Goose, how good to see you!” Sophie replied happily.

“Ah, I see you've brought your wizard with you,” the little old woman peered up at the raven-haired man who gave her a dashing smile.

“Hello to you, wizard Howl,” She leaned towards him and spoke in a conspiratorial way although they were in plain sight of the entire street, “I see you're in disguise! I don't blame you, seeing the way all these magpies strut about.”

Apparently the old woman had forgotten Howl had black hair the last time they met. But the wizard chuckled good-naturedly and leaned down equally conspiratorially, “Do you think anyone has recognized me, ma'am?”

“I can't say that I've noticed. But do come in! Business has been especially good since I reopened the shop. Every hedge witch and house wizard from all over Ingary has been here to try and buy some scrap of useless junk. The town even insisted on putting up this sign to inform tourists. You two have definitely made a name for Chipping Market.”

“Let me take that for you, ma'am,” Howl relieved her of her basket.

“Thank you, dear. Wait here a moment,” Mrs. Goose replied and then straightened he shawl before shoving her way into the store. Shortly after there was a great deal of ruckus as grumbling customers came pouring out of the little antique shop. From inside the two could hear the old woman arguing with some customer who was quite intent on purchasing some item.

“I said out!” Came a cry from within.

A frazzled man in a good green suit quickly hurried from the store clutching his hat with a terrified expression. He was followed closely by the grey old woman, who emerged shaking her cane, “If you want it so badly you can come back and buy your bobble later this afternoon!”

Dusting off her apron and straightening her ruffled bonnet, Mrs. Goose turned a beaming smile on Sophie and Howl as she gestured into the store.

“Do come in, we've the whole place to ourselves now.”

Sophie half expected to feel the evil presence that had lurked in the store on the evening she had let loose the Dark. But the shop was warm and inviting as it had been when she had first entered it. A mousy brown girl stood at the till, and blanched a snowy white as she caught sight of her mistress' guests.

“Put the kettle on, would you Jenny? There's a good girl,” The little girl scurried off and Sophie looked after her smiling. Mrs. Goose shooed several fat cats from a circle of low couches in the middle of the shop that had been arranged to act as a sitting area. Sophie was glad to note that there was not a single mirror in the store.

“I bet you're noting the conspicuous lack of a particular item from the shop, my dear? No need to speak of it, but I'm done with those. No more will they be part of my inventory!”

Jenny came back into the room with a tray of biscuits and a small teapot in rosy wool cozy. The gilded china was painted with pretty flowers.

“Thank you, Jenny. Be a dear and take the basket Mr. Howl is holding into the kitchen,” Mrs. Goose took the tray and set it on the small table in front of them, going about serving the tea in a very motherly manner. Not able to resist, Howl turned the full lamp of his charm on the girl as he held out the basket and smiled, his emerald earrings glinting.

“Jennifer was it? What a pretty name.”

The girl turned as scarlet as Calcifer, staring at her shoes as she took the basket from Howl. Sophie took that moment to elbow the wizard in the ribs as hard as she could. The raven-haired wizard covered the whoosh of air that escaped him by coughing. Jenny retreated as though she were pursued by daemons. Mrs. Goose served him a cup of tea, a mild look on her face.

“Careful, Mr. Howl, or she'll start spreading rumors you're after the hearts of pretty girls again. Jenny's a good girl, but a notorious gossip. Now, what can I do for you two?”

Recovering himself with great dignity, Howl took a sip of his tea as Sophie glowered at him. Then the silver haired witch got straight to the point.

“We would like to know about the cracked mirror. Where it came from, who sold it to you, and anything you can remember about people who have expressed interest in it.”

“Now, let's see.” Mrs. Goose munched on a biscuit and lifted up her tea absentmindedly as a fat cat claimed her lap. Her simple black dress was absolutely covered in cat hair. “As I recall the mirror came from Tyrn not too long ago. It was right before the War broke out and right after Prince Justin went missing. I don't normally take damaged goods for trades but it was an odd piece. Rather plain but charming none the less. Or perhaps it was the seller who was charming. I'm a shameful mark for handsome young men, especially ones with funny accents. For the life of me I can't remember what his name was. He had such lovely hair.”

Mrs. Goose mused almost as though she was in a dream. Sophie sensed that something was not quiet right. She glanced at Howl only to find him looking at the old woman with the fey smirk that he wore when he was seeing with his othersight.

“There is a memory spell on her,” He spoke out loud, “She a tough granny to remember so much. This is really interesting.”

“Can you take it off of her?” Sophie asked anxiously. She did not like the idea of a spell being on such a dear old woman. Howl was peering at her closely.

“We shouldn't meddle with this kind of magic. It is often in the best interests of the afflicted person to let the charm remain. Too bad, it would have been useful to know who had sold her the mirror. Its rather interesting that it should come from Tyrn.”

Suddenly, there was a knock at the front door and Jenny scurried in from the back room, eyeing Howl nervously. She opened the front door.

“Eh?” Piped the old woman rather birdishly as the sound snapped her out of her trance, “I thought I put the closed sign out. Whoever it is, Jenny, tell them to go away!”

“But, Mrs. Goose, its Ambassador Varra. He has an appointment with you about the suite of armor.” Jenny called back.

As the young girl ushered the man into the room, folding his rich purple cloak but not offering to take his twisted ebony cane.

Time seemed to slow.

The man was tall and thin, almost exactly the same build as Howl. He wore a parti-colored doublet of red and black with loose silk trousers and shiny black riding boots. On his hands were crimson gloves which he did not bother to remove. His pale white skin marked him as a man from the north, where snows consumed the Tyrn country for most of the year. His face was clean shaven, with a strong square jaw and his face was framed by wavy copper hair pulled back into a long braid. His emerald eyes glowed with a fey light that almost seemed to glint in the heavy purple jewel that hung from a thick gold chain around his neck.

Sophie knew with one look that he was a wizard, and one of considerable talent. She did not sense malevolence from him, only a cold sense of amusement tinted with arrogance. But that was not to say that she did not think him dangerous.

“Oh dear, I completely forgot! Do forgive me, dearies. Jenny, do bring another tray for the Ambassador,” Mrs. Goose stood quickly, displacing the fat orange tabby which meowed in displeasure.

“I do not mean to intrude, Mrs. Goose. I can return at a later time or your guests can stay should they like,” Varra spoke with a voice full of charm.

“Not to at all. We were just on our way,” Howl smiled graciously and stood smoothly. But the ambassador stepped forward, blocking the exit in the maze of clutter in the shop.

“Forgive my intrusion, but you are Master Howl, are you not? Royal Wizard Suliman has spoken highly of your recent accomplishments. I am privileged to meet such an esteemed Sorcerer,” with that Varra gave a stiff bow from the hip, never taking his eyes off of Howl.

“Indeed, Ambassador Varra. Your reputation precedes you as well. I hear that your level thinking has brought much progress to the peace meetings between Ingary and Tyrn.” Howl replied in a voice as smooth as silk. He returned the red-haired sorcerer's bow with a flourish filled with far more panache.

“And this must be Lady Sophie. You are far more beautiful that the stories foretell.”

Sophie turned a ruddy color under the foreigner's intense gaze and a place in her heart went icy as she found a familiar quality in the red-haired wizard's eyes.

“Um, welcome to Market Chipping,” She mumbled uncomfortably.

“Please don't let us keep you from your business any further. Give my regards Wizard Suliman next time you see her,” Howl spoke in an amiable voice although his eyes were quiet cold. Taking Sophie's arm, he helped her to her feet as the Ambassador stood aside.

“Indeed,” He replied cryptically, a nasty look in his eyes, “Perhaps we shall meet again quite soon.”

“Goodbye, dearies!” The old woman called after them.

“Goodbye, Mrs. Goose!” Howl called back to her and they left the shop just as Jenny brought in another tray. Sophie could feel his eyes upon the even after they left the store and walked quickly around the corner.

“Well!” Howl smirked in a low voice, the fey expression still on his face, “That was interesting.”

“Howl,” Sophie began, but the wizard silenced her with a serious glance.

They walked in silence down the back alleys of the village until they reached a door with a mark of blue paint above its handle. Once the pair had entered the castle by way of the door under the stairs, Howl turned and made a cutting motion with his hand. A spark of magic splintered the air and a long red string floated to the ground, and then pulled itself back under the door.

“What was that all about?” Calcifer zipped over to the hover by the door, crackling oranges and reds in surprise.

“Just a nosy wizard trying to eavesdrop on our conversation,” Howl replied mildly, then with another flick of his hand the blue mark disappeared from the door, “I'm afraid we won't be going to Chipping Market for quite some time.”

“Where is Markl?” Sophie asked with concern.

“In the garden with Granny Witch and Heen; they're pulling in the laundry,” Cal replied.

“I think I'll go help them,” The silver-haired witch disappeared out the French doors and around the corner leaving behind the wizard and the fire spirit.

“We had a run in with a Wizard from Tyrn at the curiosity shop in Market Chipping,” Howl explained as he took a seat before the fire, “Apparently he is one of the ambassadors involved in the peace process. I also suspect that he sold the shopkeeper the mirror, and had a hand in placing the scarecrow curse on Prince Justin.”

“That's bad news, Howl,” Calcifer crackled in a small voice, settling back into the hearth. The wizard let out a hearty sigh and sank into the chair wearily.

“I was hoping we could have the wedding sooner, but not with this mess going on,” Howl mused softly to himself and then slapped a hand over his mouth as he realized he was thinking out loud.

“You're what!? Why didn't you tell me?” Calcifer roared, exploding up into the fireplace all white and purple.

“Shhh!” Howl hissed, waving his hands up and down frowning furiously as he cast a wary eye out to the garden, “It's still a secret! Pip down will you!”

“When did this happen?” Calcifer growled smokily as he shrank to an angry red flame.

“The night before we took care of the Dark.”

“And you didn't tell me!” Calcifer trembled upwards again and Howl gritted his teeth and renewed his shushing.

“Circumstances being what they were, I wasn't quite sure how things were going to end up,” Howl replied quietly and Calcifer dimmed, no doubt remembering past events.

“Why not just do it and be done with it?” Cal muttered.

“Because I want it to be perfect, Cal,” Howl snapped angrily, “Not some slap-dash-back-ally-altar-jump-the-broom ceremony, Sophie deserves much better than that!”

Calcifer seemed cowed by that and the little spark was quiet for a moment. Then he spoke with his round eyes fixed on the wizard, “Wow, Howl. You're actually thinking of someone besides yourself for once.”

“I'll take that as a compliment,” Howl muttered then gave a start as there was a knock at the front door.

“Kingsbury door!” Calcifer chimed, “King's messenger.”

Howl stood and went to the front portal warily, his intuition putting him on edge. As he opened the door a stiff emotionless messenger wearing all black gave him a quick salute and then held out a completely black envelope, wrapped in a black ribbon and sealed with the king's emblem in black wax. Howl snatched up the letter and slammed the door in the messenger's face. Then he sat down hard on the first step, staring at the letter in his hand, his face pale.

“What is it, Howl?” Calcifer darted over and hovered above his friend's shoulder.

“Suliman,” Howl whispered, “She's dead.”

xXx

There was a knock as his door and the latch gave a soft scrape as someone slipped into his room. One of the bobbles overhead gave a chime. On the spinning mobile a piece of black crystal spun and returned to point west to Kingsbury. On his side table Sophie could see the black letter, still unopened. It was a royal invitation to Wizard Suliman's funeral, but she needed no magic to know that.

“Howl?” Sophie all but whispered as she stood next to the bed eyeing the man shaped lump buried under the covers and mound of pillows. The silver-haired woman sat on the edge of the bed and laid her head on top of the bump.

“Are you hungry, Howl? Can I get you anything?”

A human hand crept out from under the covers and Sophie took it in her own. A muffled voice came from directly under a dog shaped stuffed animal.

“Markl and I have a lot in common. Both of us have no family. We were lucky to have found such generous masters,” Sophie knew that Howl used this kind of bravado to hide his pain. She stroked the hand in hers for a while, and then quickly straightened as the wizard surfaced for air.

Sitting up in bed, the raven-haired man threw pillows and stuffed animals across the room indiscriminately in a fit of despair, causing a jumble of gaudy somethings to crash to the floor in a pile. She patiently indulged him in his tantrum. It was times like this that Sophie remembered the wizard had the heart of a child. She regarded him with love on her face as he settled back, gazing up at the ceiling.

Howl's eyes were red rimmed from crying, his nose was stopped up and his voice was horse. She had sensed him close off to her earlier when she was out in the garden, and had heard his door slam. Calcifer filled her in quickly when she came back into the house, but she left him alone. Sophie simply waited patiently, going about her day as normal for the sake of the rest of the family, and about five minutes ago Howl had opened the door in his mind a crack.

“My uncle never had time for me as a child. I was lucky that Suliman saw some ability in me otherwise I would have been completely alone,” Howl's voice was stronger now, less brittle.

“She and I never quite saw eye to eye. I always felt her methods were always too extreme. For a while I was terrified of her because I thought her cruel. It took me a while to realize she wasn't pitiless. It was simply that she could not show mercy as the wizard responsible for the lives of all the people in Ingary. Suliman was the closest thing I've ever had to a mother or a father. I loved her very much.”

Howl rolled over and placed his head in her lap and gave a great sigh. Sophie smoothed his wild hair and the wizard's face took on a peaceful expression.

“You're all I have now, Sophie; you and our little family.”

The silver-haired woman leaned over and planted a kiss on the side of his head. The obsidian charm overhead gave a soft ting as it swiveled and began once again to point madly towards Kingsbury.

At the sound Howl's face took on a savage expression and he sat up in a single move, startling Sophie. The furious wizard ripped the chime from the wall and threw it across the room, where it landed in the jumble of shiny somethings. Howl flopped back into the bed and pulled a stuffed bear over his head. Sophie glanced over at the pile, noting how the obsidian stone gleamed wickedly at her.

“Foul-play,” She murmured in shock, and in her mind's eyes Sophie saw a flash of the cruel expression on Ambassador Varra's face when he promised to relay Howl's regards to wizard Suliman.

“He killed her,” Howl sobbed in anguish from beneath the bear, “Somehow he murdered Suliman.”

That took a moment to sink in. The thought of anyone being able to assassinate the invincible woman of stone seemed almost impossible. But Suliman had been unwell, and perhaps far weaker than she appeared. Sophie's intuition recalled the exhaustion she had shown when the royal wizard spoke of the peace talks.

“Suliman knew she was in trouble… Why didn't she say something?” Sophie whispered.

“Politics,” Howl muttered bitterly, at last tossing aside the bear. Sophie could see that he was crying again, tear leaking down the sides of his face.

“She knew that if she spoke against the peace ambassadors that it would set in motion a series of events that would led straight back to war. She kept trying to negotiate the terms of the treaty. Brave, Suliman; she tried to save us.”

Sophie had never liked politics; they made no sense to her because of the suffering inherent in double-handed dealings.

“All for power,” Howl spoke flatly, drying his eyes on his shirt. Sophie fished her handkerchief out of her pocket before the wizard could blow his nose on his shirt. Howl's blue eyes were distant and his face uncharacteristically serious; she could almost hear him thinking.

“Tyrn is a small country with few resources besides snow. Even their magic is small. Varra is crafty to have pulled off such a scheme.”

“What do you mean?”

“Varra tricked Ingary into starting the War with Marda, over the kidnapping of Prince Justin. The Prince had been dispatched to negotiate trade agreements with Ingary, but he never made it past the Wastes. That red-haired bastard must have been waiting for him in Market Chipping. He's definitely the one who put the curse on old turnip-head.

“But, why? What good could have come from instigating a war between Ingary and Marda? “

Sophie remembered the vast plain of red lights in the otherworld beyond the broken mirror. Fuel for the Dark, she realized in horror. But she returned her attention to Howl as he continued, getting all the more angry as he spoke. His hair flickered in the otherwind and several of the chimes above them tinkled in response.

“Varra was going to wait until Ingary and Marda were war weary, and then he was going to release Justin from the curse and stage it as a rescue. That would put Ingary in the wrong and somehow indebted to Tyrn, giving them an in to the Capital.

“But you foiled that plan when you let Justin loose of his curse early. However, it still brought Tyrnian ambassadors to Ingary; but this time under the guise of facilitating peace talks between Ingary, Tyrn, and Marda.”

“To what end?” Sophie was still at a loss.

“I'm not sure. All I know is that Suliman was somehow a threat to his plan.”

Sophie could only stare at him and think helplessly of the situation. Howl vented his renewed frustration by tossing the stuffed bear, and then sat clenching his fists because he had run out of things to throw.

“Poor, dear Suliman,” He murmured.

“Do Prince Justin and King Ferdinand know?” Sophie spoke up finally and Howl flopped back onto the bed.

“I don't know,” Howl said in a soft voice, once again his anger had gone, leaving him fragile.

After waiting a moment, Sophie climbed into bed with Howl. She rested her back against the headboard as the wizard rolled onto his side, putting his head in her lap again. She stroked his hair and he was peaceful once more.

“A big wedding,” he murmured into her lap, “With thousands of roses, enormous cakes, and fireworks.”

“I thought we agreed on a medium wedding?” Sophie smiled in spite of herself, realizing that Howl was falling asleep.

“I do so love fireworks, Sophie,” He murmured, his breathing becoming even. For once Sophie felt disinclined to argue with him.

xXx

Royal Witch Suliman's funeral was a grand affair befitting the respect and honor due to the great woman.

In Kingsbury every house was adorned with black and purple draperies. In the great procession that took place during the three days after the woman's death, every man, woman, and child in the capital passed through the great cathedral where Suliman's body lay in state. Rumor had it that the wizard had died peacefully in her sleep and city whispered gracious prayers of thanks for that mercy.

The King of Tyrn himself had come to the occasion, accompanied by a generous escort of royal soldiers. This was a bold move, but it was tolerated as a show of faith from the Igarians. The King of Tyrn brought thousands of white lilies, which glowed like snow in candles of the cathedral. Howl himself had sent several hundred black roses the morning after the letter arrived. The raven-haired wizard had emerged from his room briefly to send the order, and then disappeared for two more until the day of the funeral.

The whole family had insisted on accompanying Howl and Sophie to the funeral, and the wizard did not have the heart to tell them no. In spite of his worries, he was glad to have his family with him. Suliman had recently written her will, and in it she requested that the raven-haired wizard be one of her pallbearers. No doubt even this act was meant as a hard lesson for Howl.

Sophie felt strange dressed entirely in black; it made her feel like a ghost because of the paleness of her hair. Markl was very somber that morning, and politely stood for Sophie as she brushed his unruly hair. Even Granny witch was subdued, consoling poor Heen who curled up in her lap rather pitifully. Sophie heard Howl's door open and listened intently to the steps pass the bathroom and come down the stairs.

Turning, she took in Howl and her heart went out to him. The raven-haired wizard was dressed entirely in black, bareheaded and completely unadorned. Even his earrings were missing. Gone was the usual smile on his bright face, he did not even look at her. But Sophie knew better, she saw more than sorrow in him, she could feel the distant ember of his anger.

“Is it time?” Granny Witch asked, standing with Heen in her arms.

“Yes, time to go.” Howl spoke softly; a kind look passed over his face as Markl went over and hugged his master as hard as he could. Wizard Howl tousled his apprentice's hair, undoing all of Sophie's work, but his smile stayed any words she could have said. She had brought Suliman's staff with her. It seemed right to her to bring it.

Howl led the family down the stairs and out the door with Calcifer flickering a melancholy blue overhead. In Kingsbury the crowds parted for them, eyeing both Sophie and Howl with deference. She did not need magic to hear what they were whispering. Another addendum of Suliman's will was that Howl be named her successor. Sophie was very angry at Suliman for a moment; it was very cruel of her to force this on Howl. She must have been well aware that it was the last thing he would have wanted. But her anger softened when she remembered the difficult circumstances that surrounded the Royal Witch's last days. It was clear she had no choice.

She was glad for the black hat with its thick veil that she and Granny Witch wore. It was a custom of Chipping Village that also seemed appropriate. They each took one of Markl's hands and the little boy gazed about from time to time, but mostly looked at the ground.

They reached the cathedral quickly and the guards let them pass. There were fewer people now, mostly courtiers and close friends of Suliman's. Sophie led the rest of the family off to the side to sit in the pews closest to the front. Sophie caught several startled looks when many of the witnesses recognized her stick. But she didn't care.

Howl went ahead to stand on the dais near Prince Justin of Marda and King Ferdinand of Ingary. Heen suddenly gave a mournful wheeze and jumped form Granny Witch's arms. The little dog scrambled over to the casket and flopped itself down at its foot, giving another despondent wheeze. A fourth man on the dais with yellow hair and kind brown eyes smiled sympathetically at Heen. Sophie had never seen before, but the weak smile that passed between he and Howl told her that they had both been apprentices of the great woman. All of them looked horrible, and Sophie knew they were taking Suliman's loss very hard.

The hairs on the back of her neck suddenly stood up and through the thick cloth of her veil Sophie caught Varra watching her. She saw his expression briefly before he quickly turned his eyes away. It was a troubled expression, mixed with surprise. Apparently Varra had not counted on them being there.

The ambassador was standing on the far side of the room under the red banner of the Tyrnian country. Beside him stood a very young man dressed in such finery that no one could doubt the fact that he was a king, in spite of the nervous and inexperienced expression on his face. So this was the King of Tyrn; another patsy in Varra's plan, Sophie surmised.

The ceremony passed quickly, but the inside of the Cathedral seemed cavernous and stuffy. Sophie did not care for all the service. It seemed false in her eyes, in light of the truth of the matter. At the end Howl and the three other's carried the casket into the gardens of the Palace followed shortly by Heen and the rest of the witnesses. A great pyre waited for Suliman, once lit the bonfire would burn all night, and the witnesses would toast the life of their loved until the last embers were smoldering. Calcifer was given a great honor by being asked to light the fire, and the little spark plumed into a great purple white flame and set off a blaze that rivaled the setting sun.

After that the guest filled into the greenhouse, where a banquet waited for them. Howl, Prince Justin, the King and the other apprentice all disappeared. Calcifer had gone with Howl, so Sophie did not worry too much. Although she spent the rest of the evening keeping a sideways eye on Varra.

Sophie barely touched her food, although Granny Witch and Markl ate the sumptuous meal with gusto. Their enthusiasm made her smile and she even allowed Markl to have a sip of the sparkling wines the waiters were serving. Several well dressed guests came by to inquire about Howl, but she could tell that their curiosity was really directed at her. She had removed her hat after the ceremony and stood out like a sore thumb with her silver hair and wizard's staff. She smiled politely and answered their many questions as best she could without being too revealing. She had learned much from Howl about how to politely slither-out of answering a question without being insulting.

Soon the wake began to wind down. People came by less frequently since she held Markl in her lap. The little apprentice had fallen fast asleep with his arms around her neck. Even Granny Witch began to nod off, with Heen in her arms. The old witch had amused herself to no end by spending the whole evening gawking and muttering to herself about all the fancy people. She even flirted with a couple of handsome young serving boys. She was about to send a curious thought in Howl's direction, when she caught sight of Varra coming towards her with a king in tow.

“Dear Lady Sophie, please don't stand,” The King of Tyrn spoke kindly with a genuine smile on his face. Varra did a poor job of covering his disgust for the common way his king was addressing a commoner.

“Lady Sophie, my I introduce His Royal Highness, King Walden of Tyrn,” Varra introduced his king with the urbanity of a well costumed courtier.

“It is a great honor to meet you, you Highness,” Sophie nodded her head in the most gracious gesture she could perform in her current circumstance.

Sophie instantly took a liking to the King of Tyrn and she pitied his unfortunate situation. He looked as though he could barely be 17 years of age. Before Varra had a chance to commandeer the conversation, Walden proceeded to tell her with breathless excitement how he had heard many tales about her and the great wizard Howl. Next he launched into a speech expressing genuine contrition about the circumstances of the War and made a very solemn promise to work to settle peace between the Ingarians, the Mardans and the Tyrnians.

Sophie was taken back by the fact that the young king spoke to her as though she were a queen, and the starry look in his eyes made her a bit nervous. However, she was enjoying every moment. By the end of the kings little speech, the look in Varra's eyes was pure venom, in spite of his calm demeanor. She decided at that moment that Walden would make an excellent ruler and that he was not at all Varra's patsy.

“Forgive me for being impertinent, Lady Sophie, but is that your son you hold in your arms?” That Markl was her son seemed to make Walden nervous.

“Not by blood, no. He is the apprentice of wizard Howl,” Sophie replied evenly, holding tighter to Markl protectively.

“Ah, that is good… So you do indeed wield the staff of the late witch Suliman?”

The silver-haired woman relaxed as she realized that Walden wasn't interested in Markl. Instead he seemed absolutely in awe of the chunk of wood she held in her hand. Sophie would have laughed at him were he not a King. She was also aware of the nervous glitter in Varra's eyes as she cast a meaningful look in his direction.

“Yes it is.” She replied

“That means you must be a witch!” Sophie could have rolled her eyes and readjusted her age assessment of the young King. He sounded just like her sister Martha when she asked her master Mrs. Fairfax if she could really do magic; in fact she could feel the question coming. Varra looked absolutely dismayed, especially since several guests were taking note of the King's little scene.

“Do some magic, oh please! Varra never does anything interesting!” Walden practically begged.

Sophie found herself wanting to kiss Walden as she watched the ambassador wilt and squirm. But she also felt a bit awkward. Sophie had performed magic on several occasions for customers but she never did quite get used to it. However, one does not say no to a King of any country.

Sophie lifted Suliman's staff and thunked it against the ground heavily. For a brief moment she and the staff were consumed in a blue-purple fire that twisted and sparked, leaving her eyes behind to flash and burn. Completely untouched and as peaceful as ever, Markl slept in her lap bathed in the blue glow. She cast her eyes at Varra during that moment, putting behind that look the promise that she meant to consume him. It was only a brief second, not long enough to attract much attention, but she received applause from Walden and several others once she returned to normal

“Beautiful! Absolutely magnificent, Lady Sophie! You truly are a sorceress of great power.”

It felt like an empty parlor trick and Sophie would have regretted it completely if she had not seen the cold look in Varra's eyes give way for a second to what could only be fear. She smiled at the Prince and once again caught that starry-eyed look, really beginning to feel nervous. Suddenly Calcifer zipped into the greenhouse and hovered nervously above Sophie.

“Everything alright, Sophie? I smelled magic.” The fire daemon did his best to resist singing Varra, who stepped back from the spark as it settled on above the silver-haired witch's shoulder.

“Fantastic!” Cried Walden, who gazed at Calcifer with wide eyes, “Is this your daemon, Sophie?”

“Hey! I'm nobody's property, buddy!” Calcifer crackled purple-white at the King, who flinched back then laughed in his good-natured way.

“This must be the great Calcifer! I've heard of him too.” Replied the king with a conciliatory smile. Calcifer seemed to be at a loss and Sophie swore the little red flame blushed a rosy red.

“Everything is fine, Calcifer. This is His Royal Highness King Walden of Tyrn,” Sophie motioned to the young boy.

“Um… Nice to meet you, King Walden.” The young ruler bowed to the fire daemon, who shrank smaller and turned pink again.

“Calcifer, would you take Markl and Granny home? It's getting late.”

“Sure thing, Sophie,” Calcifer replied.

Granny Witch woke up at her name. The old witch put down Heen and gathered Markl into her arms as Sophie handed him off. The silver-haired woman kissed both of them on the cheek and pointed them after Calcifer.

“Oh, what a pretty fire,” the former witch of the wastes murmured and tottered after the fire daemon. They paused for a minute as the little spark shot back to her.

“I forgot. The King of Ingary and Prince Justin would like you to join them in Suliman's study,” With that the little flame sped off after the old witch. They would be safe, Sophie was sure of that. Varra could do nothing to them as long as Calcifer was with them.

“If you would excuse me, King Walden, Ambassador Varra,” Sophie stood and wandered off in what she thought was the right direction. Her heart sank as she caught sight of the cruel look in Varra's eyes as he watcher her go.

Prince Justin and the King wanted to see her? Not Howl? Sophie had a very uneasy feeling about this. After getting turned around in circles, Sophie managed to get directions out of a harried servant. The little blond boy pointed her in the right direction only after staring in terror at her for a few seconds. As she walked Sophie reflected on her revelations about Varra.

He was not nearly as strong as she had once feared. Clearly he had not expected she and Howl to come to the funeral. If a silly little parlor trick could put some fire in his britches the sorcerer must not be as powerful as he liked to project. However, instead of being consoled by this fact Sophie was made all the more nervous. That meant something else was behind all of their troubles.

As she finally found herself in a familiar setting, Sophie became aware of distant raised voices. One in particular she recognized as Howl's. Although she felt guilty for eavesdropping, Sophie listed at the door before knocking.

“I can't believe that you're actually considering these terms!” Howl practically screamed, followed by the sounds of crashing and things breaking.

“Now, Howl, be reasonable!” An unfamiliar voice spoke. It must be the other apprentice who had bore Suliman's casket to the flames.

“I can't BELIEVE that you're actually siding with them Barimus!” Howl yelled incredulously.

“This is for the good of the country, Howl.”

Sophie heard the strong tones of King Ferdinand's voice cut through the sounds of more smashing and fabric ripping. Sophie couldn't believe that Howl was actually yelling at the King of Ingary. In the background she could hear someone sobbing softly and she decided this was Justin. Sophie reverently prayed that Howl had not harmed him.

“There, there, Prince Justin. She was never interested in you anyway,” Barimus appeared to be trying to console the prince, who started out in another fit of tears. Apparently Barimus wasn't doing a good job.

“These are the terms of the peace agreement!” The king shouted back at Howl, obviously unperturbed.

“It's not for you to decide!”

“Neither is it for you! It's up to Lady Sophie!”

Sophie broke into the room startling all four men. The office was an absolute mess. Wallpaper had been ripped from the walls, pillow stuffing was flying about in the air, tables were over turned and chairs smashed to bits. Howl had an enormous dresser in his hands. He looked as though he was about to chuck it at the King, who was currently taking refuge behind the shambles of a table. In a corner Prince Justin sat sobbing and Barimus stood next to him patting his shoulder.

“Decide what?” Sophie demanded in fury, having taken in the whole room.

Howl's attention snapped to her and his anger deflated to surprise. Then it renewed with vigor and the wizard turned and threw the dressed at the wall with a furious snarl. It splintered into hundreds of pieces.

“Howl!” Sophie cried in dismay, “Behave yourself!”

“Tell her, oh lord of Ingary!” Howl sneered mockingly at the King who appeared rather unsure of himself now that Sophie stood in the doorway.

“Tell me what?”

The King recovered himself quickly, but still retained his look of consternation.

“Lady Sophie, that under the terms of Suliman's will she has named both you and Wizard Howl as her successors to the position of Royal Wizard. Ambassador Varra has made it very clear that under no certain terms will his country abide by such a strong magical presence in Ingary in light of its current track record for military belligerence. He has informed me that such an act would threaten the security of his country, which is already weak in the realm of magic, and therefore must be amended. A political liaison has been suggested in order to balance power and create ties of kinship that will further prevent war.”

“What do you mean liaison?” Sophie demanded.

“The King of Tyrn has asked me for you hand in marriage, Lady Sophie.”

Sophie was floored. Suddenly she understood the star-struck look in Walden's eyes.

“What?” She exclaimed.

“Those are the terms of the peace agreement. If they are not met, then we are at war again.”

“You have no right to ask her to do this,” Howl had recovered after a moment of exhaustion.

The raven-haired man's face was alive with anger Sophie had never before seen in him. The king turned back to Howl, his reddish moustache bristling in rage.

“You forget yourself, wizard Howl! I am the King of Ingary and I can bloody-well do what I want if it is in the best interests of the kingdom!”

“Wizard Howl has already asked for my hand in marriage and I have already consented!” Sophie yelled back at the King, her eyes flashing in anger, “He has every right to a say in this matter.”

The king looked absolutely flabbergasted at this fact, “I had no idea… I would have protested more strongly had I known. I… But the peace treaty?” The king cast about for something to convince Sophie.

“Come, Howl. We're leaving,” Sophie's cold voice rang out in the room high and clear. The exhausted wizard wordlessly obeyed. She turned to follow him, but both Barimus and the King called after her.

“But Lady Sophie! What say you to the terms?”

The King of Ingary asked again, desperation coloring his voice. She turned and struck wizard Suliman's staff on the floor. Everyone in the room jumped at the sound. She gave him a withering look that let him know exactly what she though of the terms. But Sophie truly saw the King in that moment for the first time.

King Ferdinand of Ingary was a strong tall man in excellent form with great bushes of rusty hair and a matching moustache. But now the man she saw before her was barely on his feet, all the vitality gone from him. Dark circles lined his eyes and his face was pinched with worry and grief. Sophie realized that it was not his fault; the ruler of Ingary was hardly more than a child himself. Her intuition told her in that moment that Suliman had coddled him too much, making many decisions for him.

Holding Suliman's staff in her hand, she felt the weight of combined fears of the entire country settle upon her shoulders. For an inkling of a moment she knew how the Royal Witch must have felt. For some reason that reminded her of the parched plains of suffering she had seen in the darkest corners of the otherworld. She knew that those lights represented real people, people whose lives now depended on a cruel choice she was being forced to make.

This was Varra's doing.

“Sophie,” Howl's gentle voice brought her out of her thoughts, “Please, Sophie, let's go.”

“You will have my answer in three day,” Sophie told no one in particular, then turned and stalked off down the hallway.

xXx

Sophie's thoughts were full of fire and brimstone as she strode through the castle, a silent Howl easily keeping pace beside her. Frightened servants and courtiers scurried aside as doors flew open before the couple by the hand of invisibles forces. With the slamming of each door Sophie's worries consumed a bit more of her anger, leaving behind only uncertainty. Through a window she could see that Suliman's pyre still burning brightly. Sophie couldn't bring herself to curse the late woman even in light of the predicament into which the witch had delivered them.

Once outside on the castle steps, free before the night sky, Sophie threw herself into Howl's arms and the two of them shot into the sky like a great winged bird. Sophie had no idea where they were going and she was sure Howl didn't either. It didn't matter. They were together and for the moment everything was right. The pair clung to one another and sailed through the heavens. Some time later they fell to the earth like a shooting star, their magic delivering them safely into a field of soft grasses above the capital.

They lay in each other's arms staring at the stars in the sky for some time, until golden dawn began to color the eastern horizon.

“What will you do, Sophie?” Howl's voice was soft and fragile, as though he could not stand to speak.

Sophie did not answer right away. She did not want to think at the moment, only to be held by the one she loved.

“I am your wife and you are my husband. We don't need a ceremony to make that anymore real in this world,” Sophie assumed had answered wisely because Howl swept her up into his arms and delivered her into one of their timeless embraces.

“Let's run,” He whispered wildly into her hair, almost crushing the air from her as he hugged her too him fiercely, “We'll uproot the castle and go far away where no one has ever heard of us.”

It sounded like a wonderful idea and for a moment Sophie almost agreed. But again the great plain of suffering reared before her eyes, thousands of tiny red lights twisting in agony.

“We can't. We have a responsibility,” She whispered into his hair as she kissed his neck tenderly.

“Damn our responsibility, damn wizard Suliman, and damn Ingary if it takes you from me!” The raven-haired sorcerer whispered fiercely.

“You won't. I love you and I will be with you always,” Sophie replied with such conviction that Howl must had believed her

Howl replied by letting go of her long enough to kiss her so fiercely that she lost all sense of direction.