Howl's Moving Castle Fan Fiction ❯ Children of the Stars ❯ Chapter 5: Lost Lamb ( Chapter 5 )

Children of the Stars: Part II of the Wallmaker saga

Chapter 5: Lost Lamb

If Aunt Martha could tower any higher she would have touched the ceiling. She regarded both Markl and Theresa with her hands on her hips and her eyes dark with disapproval. Both apprentices were dripping wet, the puddles beneath their feet growing in size. Theresa sniffed pathetically, but the herbalist turned the full power of her flinty stare on the red haired girl, obliterating the plea for sympathy.

“It's my fault, ma'am,” Markl spoke as he came to the red-haired girl's defense. He winced and silenced under the heat of the gaze as it turned in his direction.

Markl was not so removed from his situation by the sight of the cold healer to be unaffected by his Aunt's wrath. It had never occurred to him that it might be unwise to practice magic in the open in Kingsbury. Martha had scribbled a quick note to her husband after fishing them out of the pond. She had handed it off to a palace page through a magic portal the apprentice had failed to notice occupied the front door of the shop.

Barimus strode through the front door after what seemed like an eternity of shrinking and squirming under Martha's steely gaze. However, the red wizard was well known for his sense of humor, and he burst into laughter after taking in both Theresa and Markl. Martha's glower was positively venomous as she rounded on her husband, who did not relent in the slightest. It was a brave man that could laugh under the weight of that gaze.

“Enough, Martha,” he laughed in sympathy and kissed his wife, who blinked in surprise and colored a light pink. “Look at them; they're soaked to the bone. And they smell awful. Did you really fall into that ghastly pond? It's a wonder the slime didn't eat you.”

The red wizard snatched a pot from the shelves and doused the two apprentices in drying powder. They sneezed and coughed but were grateful to be dry. Barimus pulled a chair over from the table and sat before them. An admonishing look crept into his eyes if not onto his lips, which still smirked with humor. They both remained standing at attention, expecting the worst even if the red wizard was smiling.

“Where is the offending object?” He asked ominously and the herbalist handed him the garden hoe. He leaned forward and inspected the circle of green glass that was imbedded in the top of the pole, his face pensive. He frowned and nodded in approval. He actually seemed impressed as he handed it to Theresa, who took it timidly.

“That's a strong piece of work, Markl. How long did it take you do make that charm?”

“About a week, sir,” Markl replied proudly.

“Barimus!” Martha's voice was incredulous.

“Dear, Martha, don't be so hard on them. They were just having a bit of fun. It's an excellent piece of magic and it would be a shame to waste it. Besides, weren't you just lamenting the other day how you were keeping poor Theresa running all over town with errands and deliveries? Now she can move five times as quickly.”

That seemed to stymie the wizard's wife, whose mouth gaped as though she would speak but could think of nothing to say. The red wizard sat back in his chair and regarded Martha pleasantly.

“Good! I'm glad you agree. I'll have to make sure that she's licensed properly to carry an enchanted item as a non-magic citizen. But that won't take much.”

Markl had not spent much time around both Barimus and Martha over the past few years, and he was intrigued by their dynamic. The ginger haired apprentice both loved and feared his youngest Aunt. But seeing her completely disarmed before her husband revealed a new aspect of her personality.

“None-the-less!” Barimus rounded on Markl with an intense gaze full of disapproval, “You, young man, should be well versed in the Ingarian laws regarding the use of magic in public places. And it is woefully apparent that you are not. This will have to be rectified.”

He shot to his feet, sweeping the chair back up to the table as he strode to the door. The royal wizard beckoned to his nephew.

“Take your cloak, Markl; you will be accompanying me to the palace.”

He smiled charmingly at his wife, who still stood thunderstruck in the kitchen.

“Don't worry about bothering Sophie and Howl about this, Martha. I will see that he is disciplined and I will take him home tonight as well.”

“Will you be late?” She asked, finally finding her voice. Barimus softened as he gazed at his wife.

“Only just,” He replied gently. His warm brown eyes melted for a moment, and then he swept the door open, exposing the richly carpeted corridors of the Palace.

“In you go, Markl!” He called, and the young wizard snatched up his cloak before clambered through the doorway.

 

xXx

 

“Whoo! That was a close call; Martha almost cooked your goose for that one.”

Barimus laughed as he closed the door behind them. There were in some kind of study but Mark recognized the darkly burnished wainscoting and red rugs of the Palace décor. He quickly trotted off after his uncle, the new length of his legs making it easy to keep up with the wizard's brisk pace.

“Am I going to jail, sir?” Markl asked with such seriousness that his uncle again shook with laugher.

“Gods no, Markl; that was all hot air to please your Aunt. And don't call me sir. You're my nephew, not a servant.”

“Does that mean I'm not in trouble?”

“Oh, no; you're still in trouble, my boy, but only just. Howl really needs to let you out more often. He's neglecting some very important aspects of your education.”

“Will Theresa be in trouble? Please, uncle Barimus, it was all my doing.”

The red wizard cast a side-long glance at his nephew, a knowing look in his eyes.

“Aren't you a little young to be impressing girls, Markl?”

“Theresa and I are just friends!” He stammered quickly and flushed as red as his uncle's garments. Again the elder wizard laughed with good natured humor. Encouraged by Barimus' good mood, Markl spoke quickly, his face falling deadly serious.

“Uncle, I saw her again! She's here in Kingsbury.”

“The cold woman?” The red wizard almost came to a complete stop as surprise showed plainly on his face. That look fell to an expression of intense attention, “Where and when?”

“When I was flying with Theresa I saw her in a crowd of people in the street. She was staring right at me like she knew who I was. I got that squirrelly feeling again.”

“That squirrelly feeling is your magic telling you that someone is probing at you,” he replied shortly and then fell into silence. His face was marred by an angry scowl.

“Uncle?” The apprentice asked after a moment.

“Sorry, Markl; I'm a bit distracted. I don't like how that woman keeps popping up around our family. I'll put someone on this right away.”

He took a hard right in the way that a person does when they know exactly where they're going, having walked that way a hundred of times. Looking up, the young wizard looked through an enormous pair of arched doors and caught sight of a huge atrium filled with light. More books than he had seen in his entire life filled this room with every bit of knowledge he could possibly imaging. Looking around at the spines, he realized that half of them were written in a language he had never seen before. His fingers itched as his eyes devoured the sight.

“Welcome to the Library of Ingary's Royal Wizard Academy!”

Barimus announced as he ushered the boy to a seat at one of the many tables that filled the center of the room. He disappeared for a moment leaving Markl feeling small and out of place in the grand room. Lots of other boys and girls his age wandered about the room. These must be the apprentices who are studying here, Markl thought. Most were sitting in clusters around huge tomes as they scratched on slips of parchment with pens.

The majority of them were studying intently, but some were gazing at him curiously. Others were sending looks his way that were not so kind. Markl realized that he must look dirty and plain among all these nicely dressed students. He felt very out of place and wished at once that he could go home.

“And now for your punishment!” Barimus announced though he had just told his nephew he won a prize.

He reappeared so suddenly that he gave Markl a fright as he dropped the thick book in front of the young wizard. Some of the other apprentice's near by twittered with laughter, but paled and dropped their faces as Barimus shot a heavy look their way. Reaching down the red wizard opened the book halfway through and pointed at the page.

“Title 534, section 56, Ingarian royal decree number 6,547: the laws and regulations regarding the use of magic and enchanted items in public places. Read. All of it.” Barimus pronounced the last sentence as though it were his doom.

“But, it will take me all day!” Markl cried in dismay flipping through the pages.

“Punishment isn't supposed to be fun, nephew. Don't worry. I'll send word to Sophie and Howl about where you are. I'll be back later to collect you.”

With that Barimus turned on his heel and left as briskly as he had come. Markl shrank as he felt all the eyes in the room fall upon him; somewhere in the distance he heard someone snigger. Gluing his eyes to the page below, he pulled up his hood and began to read.

 

xXx

 

“Alright, Markl; time to go,” someone was shaking his shoulder and he sat up realizing he had fallen asleep.

“But I haven't finished reading yet,” he mumbled blearily.

“Leave that blasted thing! There's nothing useful in that rot anyway,” the young wizard recognized his master's voice immediately and he climbed to his feet half sleepwalking.

Howl must have taken him by the arm through the winding corridors of the Palace because Markl had no recollection of ending up back in his uncle's office. He woke curled up on a couch to the sound of heated voices arguing in the next room.

“How could you do that to Markl?”

“He is quite fine, Howl. Besides, he could use some exposure to other children his age.”

“Don't be patronizing, Barimus. I am well aware of what my son needs!”

“Are you so sure, Howl? He broke several laws today with his little stunt in the sky. I can understand the need to show off in front of a pretty girl. But that's not what bothers me. What bothers me is the fact that he was completely unaware that what he was doing was illegal. You're neglecting a very important part of his education.”

“Don't presume to tell me how to teach my own apprentice. Markl knows more about magic than anyone his age at the academy.”

“I'm not talking about magic, Howl. I'm talking about life! You live in Ingary, Howl, and so does Markl. You and Sophie keep him cloistered in that castle of yours like in some fairy tale. I know you're trying to protect him, but at what cost?”

“You're lecturing me, Barimus. I do not enjoy being lectured,” his master's voice was well-mannered, but icy cold.

“It's not just Markl. You and Sophie both act like hermits, hiding away in your castle and never coming out into the city. You need to deal with the fact that you're running away from the past by hiding from the present.”

“Of all people, you shouldn't lecture me about running, Barimus. How is your wife?”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“It means if you're not going to be courteous, I shall have to leave.”

“Don't pull the courtier crap with me, Howl. If you won't listen to your apprentice, for once in your bloody life will you listen to me? Markl saw her again, but this time she was outside Martha's shop.”

This seemed to give his master pause and his voice was dangerously calm as he spoke again, “Who?”

“The healer from that night six years ago.”

There was a long pause.

“He told you about that?”

“Yes. This time Markl saw the little girl with her. He said she was about Akarshan's age and has silver hair.”

“My daughter is dead, Barimus! Dead!” Howl was screaming, “Why are you tormenting me with this rubbish!?”

“What if she isn't?” The red wizard's voice became gentle where once it had been angry. There was a sound of furniture smashing, “Come back here Howl! Howl!”

The doors to the adjoining chamber came crashing open as Markl's master came storming through. He didn't look at his apprentice and disappeared wordlessly into the dark corridors of the Palace. Barimus stood in the doorway to his office, outlined in black against the light behind him. Everything about him spoke of defeat and he gazed at the young wizard helplessly.

“I'm sorry,” Barimus said lamely and shook his head.

“I should go,” Markl replied equally helpless.

“I'll take you to your door. Sophie will kill me if she finds out I let you wander about this late at night.”

 

xXx

 

It was the same dream, the one that she had at least once a month for the past six years. But it was different this time.

She was standing on the green plains in the otherworld, but she was old and grey again. Her magic had fled her and she was helpless and alone. Someone called her name and she turned as the Dull Wall reared up out of the ground and loomed over her menacingly. She could barely see, but at its foot stood two women. One was old but still regal; although her heart was full of ice and hatred. Indeed the ground froze beneath her feet and Sophie knew that a sorrow daemon had eaten her soul.

The second was just as tall, but was untouched by hatred or vice. She was young and beautiful in spite of the fact that she had long silver hair. The younger woman turned and regarded her with blue eyes the same color as Howl's. She looked back to the wall, lifted a single hand to the bricks and pushed. As though it was been a thing of ash and illusion, the Wall crumbled.

As the silver woman turned back to regard her she became a little girl, exactly Akarshan's age. She held out her arms imploringly and shimmered like the star children who had begun to dance around her in a wavering circle. This was where the dream normally ended, but it went on.

Mother! The little girl cried soundlessly as the cold woman loomed over her, looking down at her with pure hatred. The woman raised her clasped hands over her head, light glinting off of the silver blade. As she plunged the knife down, red fire from the scorched plains rushed forward in a great wave, consuming the figures.

“No!” Sophie gasped as she sat upright in bed, a cold sweat clinging to her.

The silver haired woman realized that she was alone in her bed. Like she did sometimes when she couldn't sleep, Sophie got up and peeked into her son's rooms. Shan was fast asleep, sprawled out on his pillows much like his father slept. She cracked Markl's door and peered in at him. He was asleep in his clothes, his patchwork cloak wrapped around him like a blanket. She considered going in to take off his shoes, but decided to let him sleep as he lay.

Going downstairs she caught sight of Howl on the couch in front of Calcifer, who looked up at her with large round eyes. Heen was sitting between his feet. Her husband was hunched forward resting his chin on his fists, staring despondently past the little fire daemon. The fat little dog thumped his tail on the floor as she came to sit beside the raven-haired wizard, placing her hands on his shoulders.

“Am I a bad father, Sophie?” His voice was brittle.

“No,” she replied with complete conviction, “You're a wonderful father and an excellent husband. You love our boys very much and they love you.”

He folded himself up onto the couch and placed his face in his arms, resting them in her lap. She stroked his hair and let him hide in her nightshirt like a little boy. Howl could be aimiable and imperturbable, but his confidence was fragile and cracked easily. Something had upset him greatly this evening and Sophie knew it had to do with Barimus. The two brother's had never been at ease with one another since the tragedy six years ago. It was out of love and sympathy for each other's loss that a wary truce was kept.

Perhaps that truce had finally broken this night.

She and her husband never spoke of their lost daughter, and she knew it weighed heavily on his heart. She had tried to broach the subject once. But the look of overwhelming misery that it brought to her husband's face made her vow to forgo any further attempts. Howl loved his family with an irrational fierceness. It was his one weakness and it was capable of destroying him. Sophie knew that he blamed himself for the loss of their child. He blamed himself for not being there and for not protecting both she and Martha. She had tried on many occasions to convince otherwise him through her actions, since she could not use words.

But Howl wouldn't listen.

“I love you, horrible Howl,” Sophie murmured as she leaned down and kissed the top of his head.

He rolled over and gazed up at her, composure returning to him as he pushed his sorrow away deep inside himself. He looked at her like he was seeing the sun for the first time and she blushed at the intensity of his emotion. She was his rock, the look told her, his haven, his place of peace. He would die for her and she for him. The wizard Howl reached up and drew her face down to his, kissing her with desperate tenderness as though he were afraid she would break under his fingers.

But she would not break, and she reminded him of that in hours before the dawn.

 

xXx

 

Markl stared out the window of his room looking at Star Lake outside. They had landed the castle not long after breakfast, at which Howl was absent.

“Where's papa?” Shan asked with uncharacteristic seriousness earlier at breakfast.

“He's not feeling well this morning, Shan. Let him rest,” Sophie replied.

Granny witch had gone to Mrs. Fairfax's early that morning with a whole basket of yarn. She and the old herbalist were knitting hats and socks for the children at the Chipping Market Orphanage. Between the two of them they could have be-socked the entire village. Markl had retreated up to his room and spent the morning attempting to read. But he ended up staring out the window and sighing. He kept thinking about Theresa and wondered if there was something wrong with him.

There was a soft tap on his door and Sophie came into his room. She sat on the foot of his bed and folded her hands patiently, regarding her son with love and patience. Markl felt awful as he looked up at her, all the secrets inside him burning a hole beneath his heart.

“Mother,” he murmured softly as he stumbled to his feet and collapsed into her lap, sobbing bitterly like he had on the day the Wallmaker had stolen Howl away. He had grown so much, Sophie observed, but no matter how big a man grew, the little boy inside never really went away. His tears stopped after a while and she smoothed his hair.

“Feel better?” She asked hopefully.

“No! Not in the slightest,” he grumbled into her skirts.

“Want to talk about it?”

“Yes! But I promised Howl and Uncle Barimus that I wouldn't. But I want to so very much.”

“Perhaps you should,” she spoke softly. Unbeknownst to her son, Sophie was filing through the drawer in her mind where she kept really nasty insults and picked out a few for her brother-in-law. She would deal with her husband later. Perhaps with a swift kick? Kicking things always made her feet better.

For the third time, Markl told the story of recent events. Even adding in his confusing feelings for Theresa and how they had gone flying but fallen into the pond. He told his mother everything, even about the cold woman and the little silver haired girl. In spite of how white her face had gone, he told his mother about the argument Howl and Barimus had that night and then began crying all over again. She hugged him and rocked him. Much to Markl's surprise she mother did not fly into pieces as he had thought she would.

“We're cursed!” He cried woefully into her skirt.

“Curses are self-inflicted as much as they caused by other people. Magic only works when you believe in it. You know that, Markl.”

“I'm sorry I didn't tell you, Sophie,” He mumbled into her apron.

“It's alright, dear. You were just trying to protect me. Although I think it's time I had a chat with your uncle. Look after Shan and your father for me, will you?”

 

xXx

 

“My lord!”

A harried courtier came bursting into Barimus' office and he looked up from the missive he was reading in surprise, “The Sorceress of the Silver Flame is…”

The door to the antechamber burst open as Sophie came striding into the room, her brown eyes flashing as she took in her brother-in-law and the terrified page.

“Out!” She thundered, and the man fled. Barimus tried to stand but he fell back into his seat under the weight of her eyes.

“You, sit!”

Barimus stared at her in rage and was about to try and stand again as Sophie came forward and stood in front of his desk with her hands on her hips, a gesture all of the Hatter sister's employed to great effect.

“How long have you known about the little girl with the silver hair?” She all but demanded.

Barimus looked at her with blank panic and sank deep into his chair. In a subdued voice he asked, “Howl or Markl?”

“Markl. Spilled his guts to me this morning. How long?”

“A week, maybe more.”

“I see… And Howl?”

“Perhaps two weeks, I'm not sure. Markl told him first.”

“How long till I was to be included?”

“We didn't want to upset you, Sophie,” Barimus spoke in a placating voice.

“I am sick and tired of being handed about like a fractured piece of pottery, Barimus! I am not a brittle woman; it is insulting that you all think me so weak!”

“Dear, Sophie… Please,” Barimus winced under her harsh tone and held up his hands guiltily.

“Don't try to romance me, red wizard. I am very angry right now. Is it true?”

“What do you mean?”

“The little girl!” She screamed and the ground beneath her trembled. She gave a start and came back to herself.

“I'm sorry, Barimus. I'm very upset,” she muttered lamely as she pulled up a chair and sat in front of the Royal Wizard.

“It's quite alright, Sophie. I'm sorry. I had the best of intentions,” He stumbled through an attempt to apologize to his sister in law, but gave up and continued, “I have nothing conclusive, but I do have several witches and wizards working on this right now. All we have to go on is the fact that Markl and Akarshan have both seen the little girl.”

“Could it be true?” Sophie did not like hearing her voice quaver, nor did she care for how her hands were shaking. Her vision blurred for a moment as a fat tear fell onto her skirt. Barimus stood and came over to her, placing a consoling hand on her shoulder.

“Did you see the body?” She continued tremulously, a fragile tower of hope lifting her heart, “That night after they told me she had died, I couldn't. But did you?”

“No.”

“So it might be possible?”

“We can hope?”

At that moment a score of able bodied witches and wizards crashed into the antechamber and looked from Barimus to Sophie. The red wizard straightened and stepped forward in front of the silver witch giving her a moment to recover.

“It's alright, friends! Do come in,” the troupe entered and Sophie realized they looked very familiar. She remembered many of their faces from the day she and Howl had confronted the Wizard's Council.

“You all remember Lady Sophie, yes? Lady Sophie, this is my honor guard,” Barimus spoke charmingly and the group nodded. Sophie was already on her feet and curtsied politely.

“I think I'll be going now, Barimus. I expect to be informed of any new developments as soon as possible.”

With that the silver haired witch was on her way out the door and she felt eyes on her back as she went. Again the maze of rooms twisted in front of her and she was hopelessly lost. Turning, she viciously kicked a chair to vent her frustration and stubbed her toe.

“Blast this wretched place!” She swore nastily and paused as she caught sight of a familiar woman at the end of the hallway. The thin woman was dressed entirely in white. Empty was the best way Sophie could think to describe her. It took her a moment to recognize Councilor Raia's apprentice and the moment she did the woman took off around the corner.

“Wait!” She called as she chased after the fleeting figure, keeping her way by catching mere glimpses from time to time. The corridors grew narrower and plainer as she entered the older sections of the palace. All at once the hallway plunged into darkness as the empty woman pushed open a doorway ahead of Sophie, showing briefly like a dark shade in the rectangle of light.

“Wait!” She cried again as she burst through the rectangle of light, stumbling into the cavernous chamber in which the Wizard's Council held its meetings.

Unlike her last visit, it was dark and empty, filled with an ominous presence. The silver haired witch warily eyed the gilded mirrors that lined the walls high above the seating. Overhead the glass ceiling was shrouded in heavily rutched purple velvet curtains. A thin beam of the afternoon sunlight permeated the drapery, throwing half of the room into light while veiling the other in darkness. Her heart skipped quickly in her chest as the all too familiar circumstances made her limbs heavy with dread. Casting her eyes about, she could not see any sign of the empty woman. But a soft sound caught her attention.

Ahead, in the trail of light the split the room, a ball bounced out of the shadows. It should have been a child's toy, but it glowed like the moon. The sound of tiny feet pattered on the marble floor as a little girl dressed in a rough woolen smock ran after it. She was small and pale, probably only about six years old. As the girl stooped to pick up the toy, her back to the silver witch, she could see that her hair was bound in two little braids. It showed like starlight in the gloom.

Sophie felt as though the bottom of the world had fallen away from beneath her feet. Her legs ceased to work and she fell to her knees and let out a sob. Looking at the little girl, she knew that this child was her daughter. The silver haired witch half stumbled over to the little girl on her knees and realized that her daughter was weeping softly. She gently reached out and placed her hands on the girl with the earth shattering tenderness that resides in every mother. The little girl winced and cried harder, her little sobs rending Sophie's heart in two.

“Don't cry, little lamb,” she whispered with all the love in her heart, “I'm here. I've found you!”

“Mommy,” The little girl spoke in a small voice.

Sophie felt the magic before she saw the circle burst into light on the ground around her. The shadow that the little girl cast onto her lap darkened and reared up like a living column of black water. She shrieked as the empty woman coalesced out of the liquid ooze and seized her head, digging cruel talons into her flesh. The daemon drew its face close enough to kiss her lips, it hot breath vile on he face. She struggled but it forced the silver witch to look into its eyes, which once had been blind, but now were completely black.

The last thing Sophie heard was the sound of her lost child's desperate crying.

xXx

Markl was trying to read, emphasis on the trying.

Howl had still not come downstairs from his bedroom and that left only the apprentice and the fire daemon to entertain Shan. His little brother was feeling particularly attentive this morning, and the toddler sat on the edge of the couch, scooting closer and closer in a bid for attention. Calcifer was doing his best impression of a dying ember.

“What?” He finally grumbled as his brother burrowed into his side.

“I'm bored!” He sang in a long sing-song sigh.

“Why don't you go play with your toys?”

“I want to play with you, big brother!” Shan wined petulantly.

“I'm reading, Shan. Can't you see that?” Markl half groaned as he shut the book with a snap.

“Do that later, I want to play now!” She tugged at his brother's arm.

“Let's play hide and go seek,” Markl pronounced slyly as he pretended to put his book aside.

“Yay!” Shan sang and dashed away upstairs as Markl started to count. He gave up at about twenty-five and picked up his book again with a sly smile. Markl noted that Calcifer was regarding him with hooded eyes from the fireplace.

“What?” Markl asked pertly.

“You're alright, kid. You know that?” Cal crackled with a toothy grin and rolled over in the ashes.

The young wizard managed to finish half a chapter before a door opened and closed and tiny feet sounded on the stairs.

“You're not even looking!” Shan cried incredulously, stamping his feet as his father had instructed.

“Yes I am and I found you too! Go hide again!” Markl began counting once more, never putting down his book.

“You're cheating!” Shan shouted as he pounded on the railing with his fists.

The little boy went still as a door overhead opened. Howl's heavy steps could be heard and the raven-haired man scooped up his son as he came down the steps. Markl put down his book and glanced at his master, whose eyes were hidden under his bangs. Calcifer rolled over and regarded his friend with large eyes

“Are you feeling better, papa?” Shan asked him with genuine concern as the man settled on the couch next to Markl. Their father stretched his long legs out to the edge of the fireplace, mirroring his eldest son's position. Markl had grown significantly and was almost as large as his master, but he still felt small next to the powerful wizard. They sat there for a moment, aware of the tension in the air. Even Shan was quite.

All of a sudden Howl reached his arm around Markl and gave each of his boys a bone crushing hug. He planted a kiss on the top of each of their heads and his eyes emerged from under his bangs as he tossed back his head with a sigh. Markl colored bright red, embarrassed by the open show of affection. But he allowed himself to be hugged and enjoyed it none the less.

All was right in the world.

“Where's your mother?” Howl asked.

Well, maybe not everything.

“She went to see Uncle Barimus! He's in trouble!” Shan said as he wiggled out of his father's embrace and bounced on the couch, clapping his hands. Calcifer groaned at the noise and hugged a bit of log to his head. Markl felt the weight of his father's arm very heavily now.

“Did she? Poor uncle Barimus,” Howl spoke mildly.

There was a loud and persistent knock at the front door.

“Kingsbury door!” Calcifer snapped from under his bit of wood.

“That's probably your mother returning home for another victorious kill,” Howl mused dramatically.

“I'll get it!” Shan squealed and leaped off the couch and down the stairs.

“It's a girl!” The little boy called in absolute surprise, as though he had never seen one before, “And she's got leaves in her hair!”

“Is Markl or Master Howl home?” A breathless voice called and Markl shot from the couch.

Theresa stood at the bottom of the stairs, red faced with her hoe in hand. There was a large scrape on her cheek, and one of her knees was bloody, probably from a fall.

“Theresa! What happened!?” The young wizard cried as he flew down the stairs. Howl appeared shortly after the herbalist's assistant seized hold of Markl, and then danced in place tearfully as she saw the raven-haired wizard.

“Oh, come quick Master Howl! Martha is in a bad way again! Barimus can't do anything for her!”

Markl's master yanked her inside and slammed the portal shut. He dragged his hand across the surface of the wood leaving behind a green mark. Scooping up Shan as he yanked open the door, the family spilled into the Herbalist's shop by way of the front door.

“Barimus?” Howl thundered and Theresa shrank from him in terror.

“Here!” The red wizard called from upstairs.

The raven-haired man handed Shan off to Markl as he cautiously climbed up the stairs. In his othersight the ginger-haired apprentice could see the trailing green mists that filtered down the stairs.

“What's happening, Markl?” Shan demanded tremulously, his eyes wide with fear.

“Take him, Theresa. There's a circle of protection around the big table, go stand there and don't move till I tell you to.”

The red-haired girl nodded and took the squirming little boy, who clutched at his older brother's sleeves.

“No! I don't want to go with her, Markl! I want to stay with you!” The little boy cried tremulously. Remembering how Sophie had once convinced him to stay behind in dire circumstances, the young wizard took a cue from his mother.

“You need to stay and protect, Theresa, okay Shan? Can you be a big boy and do that for me?”

“Okay…” The little boy let go of his shirt and the herbalist's assistant moved to stand by the table as Markl carefully went upstairs. The little boy clung to Theresa and they held their breath and stared at the ceiling. They held very still as though it would fall if they made too loud a noise. Suddenly Akarshan went very stiff in the red-headed girl's arms.

“Theresa, there's a bad lady in the garden,” he whispered in a terrified voice.

“What? Where?” She replied equally quiet and followed the little boy's eyes out into the backyard. Just outside the door a tall and thin woman stood looking up at the second story.

“Who is she?” Theresa asked in a terrified voice.

“It's Mrs. Danna!” He replied louder than before.

He woman's attention snapped downward as though she heard him speak her name and she looked through the window straight at them. Her eyes blazed with hate as she moved forward and placed a hand on the window of the backdoor, the glass iced over beneath her palm. The door splintered inward under an explosion of power. They could see their breath as ice spread like a disease through the little cottage, forming a perfect circle around the magic barrier the two children stood in. The tall woman loomed in the doorway.

“I invoke the power of this house! You cannot come in!” Theresa screeched and the circle pulsed green beneath her feet.

The woman paused on the threshold, a cruel smile twisting her lips.