Howl's Moving Castle Fan Fiction ❯ Children of the Stars ❯ Chapter 2: Labyrinth of Intrigues ( Chapter 2 )

Children of the Stars: Part II of the Wallmaker saga

Chapter 2: Labyrinth of Intrigues

Sophie was very aware of all the eyes upon her and did her best to appear unaffected. She felt exposed and vulnerable before so many strangers. Howl again was blossoming under pressure and Sophie wondered at his dual nature. He was at once terrified of the council and yet seemed to enjoy its attention. Her husband made a big show of walking grandly, Suliman's staff echoing loudly in the silence that greeted them. She decided having Howl carry the late Royal Witch's staff was a good idea after all. Many of the witches and wizards in the room stood to attention at the sight of the twisted wood stick.

After they had reached the dais below the balcony Barimus stood on, Howl bowed with a flourish and Sophie curtsied as gracefully as she could manage. There was a great deal of twittering in the council about that as the witch and wizard climbed the stairs to stand by Barimus. Howl place a hand on his brother's shoulder and they smiled at one another genuinely.

Turning, Barimus addressed the Council.

“Councilors, great witches and wizards from far and near, I come before you today in hopes that we may bring together the circle of our voices and once more be whole as a council of magic. Once more, as Royal Wizard of Ingary and Council Leader, I seek your cooperation and your support as leaders and supporters of this Alliance. We are faced with dire circumstances and we must act as a whole.”

“Tell me, wizard Barimus,” a tall witch with skin as dark as night spoke in an iron voice, “How is it that the Royal Sorcerer does not hold the staff of the late Witch Suliman? According to her will, perhaps it is not you who should rightfully be seeking our cooperation.”

“Here it comes,” Howl spoke bitterly for only Sophie's ears without moving his lips. The room filled to the rafters with the bickering voices of witches and wizards.

Some cheered the woman's comment other jeered and most rolled their eyes and shook their heads, tired to no end of the argument. Sophie blinked in consternation as she gazed out over the Council. She had not expected such childish behavior from the wizarding community that was responsible for advising the leaders of the Alliance.

“Are they always like this, Martha?” Sophie whispered to her sister, who nodded with a frown.

Suddenly, Howl slammed the butt of Suliman's stick on the marble floor and the sound, which reverberated like a thunderclap, silenced the room. Shock and surprise showed clearly on the faces of the councilors as they stared at the raven-haired wizard.

“Councilor's please,” Howl spoke gregariously, “Actions and intentions should define a leader, not conventions. But if you feel so strongly about tradition then I must oblige.”

Turning, the raven-haired wizard handed Barimus Suliman's staff.

Sophie had long since figured out that the staff had made it clear that she was intended to wield it. Anyone else who held it would have their skin crawl. The silver haired witch knew for a fact that the stick would accompany her home that night, no matter who it was handed to during the day.

The red wizard seemed surprised and hesitantly took their late master's staff, trying not to let the trepidation that he felt show plainly on his features. There was a great deal of twittering over the transfer of the rod, which was a symbolic act not missed by anyone.

An ancient looking man stood with difficulty. Almost all the color seemed to have faded from him, like an old painting too long exposed to the sun. The hair on his head seemed to have fled his pate, migrating south to form a long white beard that devoured his face, save for the brilliant blue of his eyes. His grey robes were wrinkled and stained with tea and speckled with crumbs. In spite of his disheveled appearance, a reverent silence fell as the old wizard gazed up at Howl.

“My name is Tirut, son of the Wallmakers. I knew your parent's well,” the old man spoke in a voice that whispered like tobacco smoke, “I speak for many here when I express my consternation over your absence. I must ask: why have you forsaken your inheritance and abandoned this council?”

Howl smiled at the wrinkled wizard, his liquid blue eyes full of memories as he nodded to the man with respect.

“I remember you and your beard, Elder Tirut. I apologize for not coming before the Council sooner to shed light on the dark events that have come and passed.

Casting his eyes over the chamber, Howl placed his hands on the edge of the banister and leaned forward dramatically.

“No doubt you have heard many rumors about me, most of which I assure you are completely true. I am a capricious wizard; it is in both my nature as a man and in the way of my magic. For that I must blame my closeness to the otherworld. However, believe me when I say I do not forsake my duty as the last son of the Wallmakers, who strove only to protect and preserve the balance of magic.”

Howl paused here for a moment, withdrawing for a mere second before plunging forward again. Sophie could not help but smile as she watched the raven-haired wizard cast and lead his audience like an experienced fisherman. Her husband would have made an excellent courtier had he been born with magical gifts and a strong aversion to politics. His mellow tenor swelled as she was drawn back into his address.

“As the last Wallmaker, it is essential that I be unfettered by titles or positions so that I may act immediately when the balance of magic is threatened. Furthermore, because of the unpredictable nature of my duty to protect the Dull Wall, I fear I would provide poor leadership for the kingdom of Ingary and this Council.

“But fear not; you are in luck, good Councilors!” Howl half shouted as his handsome face glowed with delight.

Scanning the faces of the Councilors, the silver haired witch realized that Howl had charmed them into the palm of his hand. The aforementioned palm swept to his side in a grand gesture as the raven-haired wizard presented his apprentice brother. Some of the Councilors stared at the red wizard with interest as though they had never before really taken notice of him. Sophie was sure she heard Martha snort.

“The Wizard Barimus has already proved himself in the past events to be an ideal Council Leader. As a fully trained wizard who has graduated from the Ingarian Royal Academy of Magic, he is far more suited than I for the position of Royal Wizard. Additionally, with Barimus as Council Head, you will be guided by a leader who is at once aware of the political issues facing the Alliance as well as the concerns of magic that move beyond the indigo veil.

“Wizard Barimus is my brother. As such we are connected; he is both my arm and my voice in times of strife. I ask you Councilors, what more could you ask for in a leader?“

As Howl finished his speech, he took a step back, still gesturing to his brother, deftly placing the red wizard in a place of authority on the balcony. When it became clear the raven-haired wizard had finished, a chorus of cheers and applause erupted from most of the Councilors. However, not all were moved, but their jeers were drowned once again as Elder Tirut raised his hands for silence.

“Well put, wizard Howl. I see the merit behind your decision to defer your inheritance. And so I ask you, Son of the Wallmakers, do you appoint Wizard Barimus stand in your stead?”

“I do,” Howl replied without hesitancy, “In this world and the next I name wizard Barimus my heir and defer to him the position of Council Leader.”

There was a great deal of murmuring about that, but no yelling and jumping about as before.

“What of the bloodline?” Called a thin bald wizard dressed in magenta silk, who had been scowling through Howl's speech.

“If we agree to accept you as Leader of Council, Wizard Barimus, will you accept the duty to produce an heir who will in turn lead the council in ages to come?”

“I accept,” Barimus replied again without hesitation.

“What say you, Lady Martha?” Elder Tirut asked the dark haired woman tremulously. The herbalist seemed taken a back, a troubled expression passing over her face. In that moment Sophie felt a thrill of premonition, and knew that all was not well.

“I accept,” Martha replied in a strong voice.

“It is done then!” Elder Tirut spoke with finality and sat down, settled into his chair like a pile of rustling linen sheets.

“I must speak!” Called another of the elder councilors.

This time an old witch stood with the help of her inane apprentice. There was a cloth bound over the old woman's eyes, whether for dramatic effect or true affliction Sophie could not tell. The woman was clouded in her othersight, as though a mist hung about her. Despite that, the council did not seem to hold her in high regard. There was a great deal of yelling and derisive calls made about the senility of the elder woman.

“I have seen beyond the indigo veil,” the woman intoned in an ethereal voice.

“Quiet you old fool!” Someone hooted.

“Let Councilor Raia speak!” Barimus' strong voice cut through the din and the shouts stopped.

“I have seen it,” the old woman called as though she though the rest of the Councilors could not hear her, “The doom of the mortal world lies with the children of the Wallmakers. Heed me! By their hand the Dull Wall was made and by their hand that it will be broken once again.”

“The Wall has broken again?!” Someone cried in panic and the council was plunged once more into chaos.

“What of the Wallbreaker?!”

“Has he returned?”

“Enough!”

Howl's voice boomed like a thunderclap, drowning the pandemonium in the chamber. Anger flashed like lightening in his eyes, which darkened under the storm clouds that filled his voice

“It is inappropriate to speak ill of the dead before The Council. Wizard Agyrus may have fallen before the daemon of his own sorrow, but he was a good man. His magic was consumed by the Core of the Dark in the otherworld. It tried to use him as a portal to reach this realm, but to no avail. Fear not, for the Dull Wall has been made whole once more.”

“But, what of the Dark?” Someone called fearfully in a petulant voice. Sophie could tell that her husband was beginning to reach the limit of his patience with the council.

“The Dark is subdued, but not gone,” Sophie's clear voice rang like a silver bell, silencing the crowd who was already curious about her. She continued in spite of her shyness.

“Councilors, you are the guardians of the mortal realm as well as the gateways between the worlds. We are very near to the otherworld and our actions and emotions have powerful ramifications in the beyond. Be vigilant of fear, anger, and sorrow and remember that our quarrelling weakens the Dull Wall. The daemons in the Dark draw strength from our division and will seek passage into our souls through these weaknesses. This is something we cannot allow.

“Be strong, Councilors! You have a responsibility as the keepers of magic to lead and give aid to those in need. That is the purpose of this Council, is it not? The Dull Wall is no longer threatened but now the Alliance needs your help. Early winter has crippled the food stores in Tyrn. Ingary and Marda are not strong enough to bolster the losses of an entire country. Thousands will suffer and starve if we do not act!

“I ask you to put aside your arguments and rise to the charge that Royal Wizard Barimus has brought you here to discuss. As both a wife and mother, and not a witch, I implore your cooperation.”

This seemed to give the councilors pause and many could be seen nodding and talking amongst themselves in agreement. Taking advantage of Sophie's introduction, Barimus launched into a description of the problems faced by the Alliance and began outlining a plan of action. While the red wizard spoke, Martha smiled at her sister approvingly. Howl cast a glance in her direction, his eyes full of pride for his level headed wife.

Perhaps they had been able to do some good after all.

 

xXx

 

Sophie sat in some forsaken antechamber in some forsaken corner of the Palace. Glowering at the door, the silver haired witch kicked the chair next to her. Again she reflected on how much she hated the maze of rooms and labyrinth of politics that filled this place. Martha had brought her to this chamber after she begun to tire and the council showed no signs of stopping. She wanted to go home, but had resolved to wait for her husband. Plus, she didn't think she could find her way out even if she tried.

Sophie begun to muse over the promotions she had felt earlier when there was a knock at the door. A woman dressed in white slipped in and the silver witch recognized her as Councilor Raia's apprentice. The ginger haired girl bobbed a curtsy, although her eyes remained blank.

“Mistress wishes to speak with you. Will you come?”

Sophie was about to decline when a fey tingle passed through her mind and curiosity got the better of her. Sophie stood with difficulty and wished she still had Suliman's stick. In spite of the trouble it brought them, the stout piece of wood was a good walking cane.

The girl led her though another twisting network of corridors, vexing Sophie to no end as she followed helplessly. Finally they reached their destination; either that or the vacant woman had lost her way as well. Sophie could see no difference in this doorway than in any other they had passed.

As she entered the room, the silver haired witch stopped dead in her tracks as she caught sight of the gigantic mirrors that hung in the four corners of the chamber. A cold chill crept into her soul as the empty apprentice moved to stand beside her. In the center of the room Councilor Raia sat in a chair like a pile of pallid colored rags. She was swathed from head to toe in a thin white shawl that looked too much like a death shroud.

“Don't be afraid. The mirrors are quite harmless. They help me to see into the beyond,” Raia's hoarse voice sounded like dry sticks scratching in the wind.

“All the same I preferred to stand here,” Sophie replied doing her best not to be insulting, “You wanted to see me?”

“I am honored that you came, Sorceress of the Silver Flame. You are right in saying we of the Council must be vigilant, but so too must you. I have seen your doom. Shall we speak of it?”

Again Sophie's irritation collected within her over the wizarding community's unnecessary habit of speaking in mysterious riddles.

“I didn't come to play guessing games, Raia. Speak plainly or I shall leave,” Sophie shot back, crossing her arms.

“I have no control over what I see, Lady Sophie. I mean you no harm, but I feel bound to warn you out of thanks for the great service you have done the Council by healing the Dull Wall and defeating the Dark.”

“The Dark is not defeated, only subdued. Warn me of what?” She replied, growing short.

“There will be no heir born to the red wizard,” the old woman spoke ominously and Sophie's heart froze.

“Is that a threat?” She managed to keep her voice even.

“The Wallmaker's children have powerful enemies. I am not the only to have foreseen the end of this world and the part your unborn children will play in its coming.”

“I don't have to listen to this rot!” Sophie spat as she turned to go. The vacant woman shot out her hand in a lightning quick movement and held the silver witch back. A sick feeling passed through Sophie as she realized that the apprentice was blind.

“There will be two, sorceress of the silver flame: a daughter and a son! They began life in the magic of the otherworld and as such their doom is inexorably linked to the beyond.” Raia continued relentlessly, her dry voice almost a screech, “One will be the bringer of light and the other the bearer of the ultimate sorrow. Under their hands the Dull Wall will crumble and all will be lost!”

“Let me go,” the silver witch grated fiercely between her teeth and she managed to wrench her arm from the empty woman's iron grip. The door to the chamber nearly tore from its hinges as Sophie fled the room, Raia's mad laughter chasing on her heels like a cold wind.

 

xXx

 

“Ooph!” Sophie winced as the child within her kicked restlessly.

“He giving you grief again, dear heart?” Howl murmured into her hair as he sat down the book he had been reading.

The warm sun beamed brightly in the clear spring sky overhead, drenching the little garden in a warm glow. Birds sang and swooped in the sky as they clambered to sit in the flying castle's trees. The witch and wizard Howl were reclining on a pile of pillows on the veranda, enjoying a lazy afternoon of peace. The silver witch rubbed her enormous belly and made a moue as the child within kicked again. She sighed and settled back onto her husband, who had graciously taken it upon himself to be he personal pillow, keeping her company as he studied.

“I can already tell that he's inherited your impatience,” she grinned as her husband gently rested his hand on her stomach and chuckled. His eyes were dark with love as he gazed down at Sophie.

“He can't wait to come out, our little Askershan.”

“Mrs. Fairfax says one more month,” she replied sleepily.

The silver haired witch wiggled and settled once again as he husband went back to reading. She wasn't sure, but for some reason her mind wandered back to their confrontation with the Wizard's Council. Apparently they had made an impression, because the witches and wizards gave Barimus their full support from then on. Working together the Council mediated the distribution of grain throughout the hard winter and mass starvation had been avoided.

Sophie was very proud of her brother-in-law, although she wished he would spend more time with Martha. His new position consumed most of his time, leaving the young herbalist alone. Not that she was idle, for the hedge witch had made quite a name for herself in the capitol. She ran her own herb shop and also saw patients as a healer. However, the silent woman came to visit more frequently than Mrs. Fairfax, who had appointed herself Sophie's midwife.

The silver witch frowned as the memory of the vacant apprentice's clouded eyes flitted through her mind. She dashed the thought from her with an awkward stretch. Sophie had not told Howl about what Councilor Raia said to her, the old woman was obviously crazy. She had not wanted to stir a fuss after gaining the confidence and cooperation of the Wizard's Council.

“I need to get up,” Sophie muttered irritably as she wiggled her toes. Her feet plagued her constantly, either swelling to the size of loaves of bread, aching with cold or falling fast asleep. That afflictions combined with her constant trips back and forth to the bathroom left her uncharacteristically peevish.

Howl stood and helped her gain her feet then flopped back down on the pillows. As she waddled away, the silver haired witch cast a glance at her husband and smiled, watching him bury his nose in the book. An intense look consumed his features as his eyes moved furiously across the print, devouring the pages. Inside Granny Witch sat before the fire, her fingers flying furiously as her knitting needles produced tiny booties and hats industriously. Heen lifted his head from the old woman's feet and watched Sophie with large eyes, wagging his tail gently.

She turned to regard her husband's apprentice, who was engrossed in study with the same single-mindedness as his master. The little boy had once again begun to grow exponentially, and she inspected the large amount of wrist and ankle that showed at his cuffs and hem. Time for some new clothes, and a haircut too.

“It's beautiful outside, Markl. Don't you want to go outside and play in the village?” She asked as she reached out and tussled his hair in passing.

“Studying,” was his mumbled reply as he absently smoothed his unruly curls. Sophie paused and gazed at her adopted son with pride. She kissed him on the top of his head and was about to go upstairs for a nap when there was a knock at the front door.

“Kingsbury door!” Calcifer piped from the fireplace. Sophie waved Markl back into his seat as she shuffled past, her other hand cushioning the small of her back as she tottered down the steps. Sweeping the door open with an irritated grumble, the messenger at the door winced and shrank under her moody stare as he held out the crimson envelope. Sophie snatched it up and slammed the door, turning to almost run smack into her husband.

“Howl! Don't sneak up on me,” she snapped grumpily as she thrust the letter into Howl's hands and clambered up the stairs to sit on the couch. She propped her feet up in front of Calcifer, who cracked a bit larger for the sake of Sophie's frozen toes. Howl slowed as he climbed the stairs and paused on the landing, quickly reading red the letter.

“It's from Barimus. He says he needs me to come to the palace right away.”

“Mmmm!” Sophie replied, hunkering down into the cushions as Howl pulled on the great-sleeved cream coat he favored.

“Want anything while I'm out, Sophie?” Howl called as he hovered in the doorway.

“Chocolate! And pickles!” She called as she wiggled her toes in front of the fire, knowing Howl had gone when the door clicked shut. Sophie wasn't sure how long she had been dozing, but the furious knock at the front door jarred her from her sleep.

“Kingsbury door!” Cal crackled as he rolled over in the ashes. Again and again the knock came with persistent force that culminated in a heavy pounding, sending the silver witch into an irrational fury.

“Markl, get the door and turn whoever is there into a toad!” She snapped peevishly and the blond apprentice hopped up and skipped down the steps.

“Is Sorceress Sophie at home?!” An urgent female voice cried in breathless desperation. The silver haired woman recognized Martha's shop assistant Theresa, a red-headed and be-freckled tomboy who was inseparable from the stony herbalist.

“Theresa? What is it?” Sophie frowned in consternation as a cold feeling crept into her heart. Hobbling to her feet she looked down the stairs to where the white faced little girl trembled on the brink of tears.

“Come quick, Mrs. Howl! Lady Martha is mighty sick, them royal healers say she might die!”

 

xXx

 

Normally, Sophie was morally opposed to using magic for frivolous things like daily chores and transportation. But she and Markl appeared on the top step of the Palace in a poof of smoke. Markl had cobbled together a powerful transportation spell at the behest of his foster mother. They gave the guards a great fright, but the soldiers buckled before the pregnant silver witch as she thundered through the palace in a nimbus of steel fire, Suliman's staff cracking against the marble floor like a hammer.

She found her way to Martha's suite within minutes and the sea of royal healers parted before her.

“She's had a miscarriage and is hemorrhaging severely,” the most level headed of the healers spoke. The tall woman was thin and her regal face was heavily lined. She had a head of short salt and pepper hair and her green eyes were cold. She did not flinch before the silver witch's magic, unlike the rest of the healers who cringed in terror.

“Where is Mrs. Fairfax!?”

“We haven't been able to reach her. An apprentice has been sent to fetch her immediately.”

“Why aren't you in there with her,” Sophie thundered.

The green eyed healer regarded her evenly as she reached out and opened the door. A thin green mist filtered out along the floor; Sophie's skin crawled as she stepped back from the wickedness in the fog. Casting her eyes into the Royal Wizard's apartment her othersight showed the room was thick with black magic.

“Sophie!” Markl cried and he gathered handfuls of his foster mother's skirts, pulling her back from the creeping evil.

“Set wards on the door, Markl, and don't let anyone come in here. Send someone to find Howl and Barimus at once,” Sophie spoke softly, “There's a dark curse in this room.”

 

xXx

 

As the silver witch stepped forward the sick green mists flew back into the chamber. She entered carefully and shut the door behind her firmly. To a normal person the room would have appeared normal, but in Sophie's othersight the air was clouded with a purple red fog and she could barely see. The veil parted before her as the mists on the ground retreated from Suliman's stick. Her senses on fire, she managed to reach the bedroom, and her ears caught the soft cryof pain from within.

Reaching out, Sophie pushed the door open. She took in the room with a single glance and tried not to retch on the suffocating suffering that diffused from within. She tried not to see the blood on the sheets or go mad with agony for her sister. Martha's face was made all the more ghostly white by her thick black hair that plastered to her clammy skin. As the silver witch stepped forward into the chamber she noted that the dark mists were thickest here.

She cast her eyes about for the source of the curse, trying to stay focused as Martha let out a heartbreaking mewling noise and writhed in agony.

“Sophie?” The herbalist managed to whisper, her eyes bright and fevered as she caught sight of her eldest sister.

“I'm here,” She reached the side of the bed and clasped her sister's outstretched hand. A shooting pain went through Sophie's side as she laced her fingers between Martha's and refused to let go. Her sister gasped and screamed as the silver witch caught sight of movement from the corner of the room.

There, surrounded with dark fire like the gate to hell itself stood a large oval mirror. The red lights of the scorched plain loomed large and showed bright as the sun beyond the thin glass. Upon its surface someone had carved a series of malevolent symbols. Viscous red waves lapped at the base of the mirror like blood, sending chills of dread through Sophie's soul.

Ours… A familiar metallic voice leered in her mind.

“You cannot have her!” The silver witch shrieked madly and slammed Suliman's staff onto the ground. The marble beneath her feet cracked under the shock of the magic she unleashed. The mirror shattered into a thousand pieces and the mists faded to ash as another pain seized Sophie deep from within her. The world swam before her eyes as she grew weak and blacked out.

 

xXx

 

Markl stood at the hallway of the Palace's infirmary, where the fleet of healers had rushed Sophie and Martha. They took his mother into one room and his aunt into another.

The pale little apprentice was still white with fright from the sight of red on both women. Mrs. Fairfax had appeared shortly after with Aunt Lettie and Mrs. Hatter in tow. Pressing himself against the wall, he willed himself invisible and listened to the voices behind the door.

From beyond where Sophie had been ushered he heard his mother screaming at Mrs. Fairfax that she should go take care of Martha. The plump herbalist burst from the room and plunged into the other without a second glance back. The tall grim healer Markl recognized from earlier emerged shortly after. The sight of her gave the apprentice a chill, perhaps it was the cold look in her eyes. She did not notice him as she slowly walked across the corridor into his mother's room.

Markl wasn't sure how long he stood there. He came back to his senses as Calcifer flared and hovered in front of his face.

“Here he is!” The flame crackled loudly.

The little blond boy snapped his head up as Howl fell to his knees in front of him. His master's face was twisted with grief and relief as he grabbed a hold of his apprentice and stared at him. Wordlessly the raven-haired man crushed the little boy to him in a fierce embrace as he swept the boy up into his arms. Markl clung to his foster father and sobbed till he was spent.

During his hysterics, Howl carried him into some kind of waiting room. Markl looked up as his father collapsed into a chair. The little boy caught sight of Barimus pacing wildly, his eyes mad with fire and worry. They were there for quite some time. Calcifer dwindled to a tiny point of light in the chandelier overhead. He flared as a troop of witches and wizards marched in with grim faces. Barimus shot to his feet and they began a heated exchange.

“We followed the trail of magic to the waterfront. Our man was just leaving. Inside we found many forged letters on your stolen stationary,” A red haired witch spoke ominously.

Apparently the group had found the culprit they were seeking. One of the wizards, a thin man dressed in black with a long cruel scar that crossed the right side of his face grinned darkly.

“We also found all the components for the killing curse. But don't worry; we dealt with the traitor accordingly. But we kept his soul for you to question. If you like you can see the body as well,” he pronounced nastily.

Barimus nodded curtly and spoke brief words of thanks, his face a brilliant with rage. The group left and the red wizard shot a look at Howl deep with implied meaning. Barimus returned to pacing and the raven-haired wizard watched him, wordlessly holding his apprentice. Markl had almost fallen asleep when Mrs. Fairfax and Lettie came into the room. Calcifer flared up blue and green as Howl and Barimus shot to their feet, staring wordlessly at the two women.

Just before Howl put him down, Markl saw over the top of Mrs. Fairfax's head and caught sight of the tall grey woman that had chilled him earlier. She was walking slowly down the corridor with a small cloth wrapped bundle. Markl could have sworn he heard a baby's softy cry just as the woman turned the corner and disappeared out of sight.

“Martha and Sophie are doing fine,” Mrs. Fairfax announced to their absolutely relief, but her normal jubilance was missing. Barimus collapsed into the chair that was just behind him, almost missing it by an inch, and sank his face into his hands. Lettie went over and patted him on his shoulder making gentle noises.

“My son?” Howl's voice was a bare whisper as he stared blankly at Mrs. Fairfax. The plump motherly woman hurried over and took hold of the wizard's hands, guiding him back to a seat.

“Sophie gave birth to twins, Howl. A boy and a girl,” Mrs. Fairfax explained quickly, “The boy is big and healthy and has a thick shock of black hair.”

“And my daughter?”

“She was very small; they were a month early, you see. Sophie took the brunt of the curse when she smashed the spell. She saved Martha's life.”

“My daughter!?” The raven haired man demanded and the old herbalist seemed at a loss for words.

“I'm so sorry, Howl.”

Markl watched as his master crumbled inward, his face hidden beneath his bangs. Going forward, the little blond boy reached out and took Howl's hand. Calcifer sank wordless to hover at his friend's shoulder. Howl squeezed his apprentices palm and then stood quickly. A rigid smile lightened his features into a handsome mask; although his eyes were dark and trembling with the riot of emotions within him.

“If you please, Mrs. Fairfax, I would like to see my wife and son.”