Howl's Moving Castle Fan Fiction ❯ Children of the Stars ❯ Chapter 4: Falling Stars ( Chapter 4 )

Children of the Stars: Part II of the Wallmaker saga

Chapter 4: Falling Stars

The party went off without a hitch. In spite of Howl's plans, the party was more of a family affair. Regardless of size, it was one of the best birthday's Markl ever had.

The aunts showered him in kisses, much to his dismay since Theresa had accompanied Martha to the party as Lettie had promised. The red-haired girl was shy at first, but Sophie chatted with her and the kind woman drew her out of her shell. All of their close family attended, including Mrs. Fairfax and her husband. Tilly, Shan, and Heen chased each other through the castle as they had diner and devoured the cake his blonde aunt had created. Granny Witch laughed in delight, surrounded by so many children, and handed Markl his present early. With a hoot of glee, the blond apprentice pulled on the fancy knitted cap with fiery red tassels that looked a great deal like Calcifer.

Stuffed to the gills, the blond apprentice opened his many gifts, most of which were books and special wizarding objects. Lettie and her husband had managed to get their hands on a pouch of holding, which Sophie and Howl had enchanted for them. It would carry up to 50 pounds without weighing more than an apple and taking up about just as much space. Aunt Martha and Barimus had been more practical, giving the apprentice many books on advanced magic to build his collection for when he began his own trade.

Markl already wore the gift Howl had given him, and the sandy haired apprentice was overjoyed by his mother's present. Sophie had truly outdone herself with the cloak of many colors she had put together. The patchwork garment could morph into any one of the colored squares of which it consisted. He spent some time before the family shifting like a from reds, to greens, to blues. The cloak also had the ability to fade into the background, much like a chameleon could blend into his surroundings.

Uncle Barimus had not yet showed up, but Aunt Martha assured him in not so many words that the red wizard would be here before sundown. Markl had one more gift to receive, from Calcifer, who greedily ate the small wax packets the apprentice had brought back from the apocathary. Zipping out into the sky above the garden, the little fire daemon exploded into a dazzling display of fireworks. As the family cheered and clapped for each new colored and twisting show of shimmering sparks, Markl blended into the background using his new cloak and quietly crept up the stairs.

The apprentice followed the winding staircase up to the observation deck at the very top of the castle, and continued up into the crow's-nest that crowned the spire. This was his favorite hiding spot, and his favorite place to think. He paused for a moment on the ladder leading to the very peek of his flying home.

The indigo sky overhead was alive with stars, and a sliver of moon had already chased the sun halfway across the world. He watched as the great red orb was devoured by the towering columns of black and grey clouds. Calcifer's fireworks exploded in plumes of colored light below him, tingeing the fluffy clouds in a rainbow of pastels. The cold wind whipped through his hair and made his eyes water. A thrill of exhilaration filled him when he realized that if he wished he could let go of the ladder and he would not fall.

His magic was his wings and he could fly if he truly believed in his power. This was freedom, he realized as he stood at the top of the world. He gazed up at the violet dome of heaven, which caught fire in the light of the setting sun. Peace filled him as he pushed open the trapped door and climbed inside only to discover that he was not alone.

The momentary sense of tranquility fled like a fickle lover as he caught sight of Theresa leaning over the banister, her hair made all the more red from the sparklers below. His aunt's helper was unlike the majority of the girls Markl knew, who dressed in frilly silly outfits and fussed over their makeup and hair. Theresa was wearing a natural colored cotton chemise and voluminous green trousers that gathered into cuffs at her tiny feet. It seemed rather sensible that she would wear pants and her practicality made him like her even more. Around her narrow waist was a thick black belt from which hung several pouches. His knees turned to water as she turned to gaze at him curiously with green eyes.

“Umm, hi,” He spoke lamely, managing to make it into the crow's-nest without stumbling.

“Oh, hi Markl,” the apprentice's heart leaped as he realized she knew his name, “I'm not supposed to be up here, huh?”

“Umm, no… Er, I mean it's alright I suppose. How did you get up here?” He kicked himself mentally for sounding like an idiot, but Theresa smiled.

“I climbed the ladder, silly. I bet you mean how did I know this was up here? Lady Martha told me about it and I had to see it for myself,” she turned and leaned dangerously far out over the banister making Markl very nervous.

“I haven't even the slightest ability for magic. I'm lucky that you don't need to be a witch to be a healer or I'd have no trade. Still, I've always wished I could be a witch so I could fly. I guess this is the closest I'll ever get,” she murmured softly, and the young wizard caught himself staring at her. For some strange reason he had been seized by the odd compulsion to count the freckles that speckled her pretty face.

“I know what you mean,” Markl relaxed a bit since he was comfortable talking about magic, “I've always wanted to be a bird so I could fly.”

“But can't you? I mean you're a wizard's apprentice, can't you fly?” Theresa turned her head towards him; her green eyes alight with the question.

“Yes, well, I've done it a few times in the workshop with my master. Would you like me to try?”

“Yes!” She almost squealed.

Markl felt silly for trying to show off in front of Theresa, but he very well couldn't say no without disappointing her. Closing his eyes, he tried to remember what Master Howl had said.

When it comes to magic, you are your own well, Markl. The raven-haired wizard had said. Often all we need is the tiniest sip of water to whet our thirst, but memories and emotions are the wine that fuels a wizard's fire. They will help you call forth what you need.

Markl reached back to the moment on the ladder where he had felt the weightless feeling of freedom as he soared above the twilight sky. It was like trying to grasp a silver fish in a stream, the wiggling tendrils of his young magic seemed to squirm from his hands every time he tried to take hold of them. Finally, he succeeded in closing his fingers around a thread of silver and the ground fell away beneath his feet.

“Wow!” Theresa gasped in awe and he was jolted back into reality, stumbling as he sank to the ground like a stone.

“That was amazing Markl!” The girl helped him up to his feet and clapped her hands appreciatively.

“It was only an inch,” he blushed and ducked his head as he smoothed his hair self-consciously.

“You're learning quickly, just think of how high you'll be able to go with practice?” She replied encouragingly, and Markl felt like he could fly to the moon if she kept looking at him like that.

“Umm, if you like… I can try and put a flying spell on a broom or a paddle. You know, like the witches in the stories use? It wouldn't last very long, but we could try it. Then we could practice together,” He spoke haltingly.

Markl's complexion fading to pink as he gained confidence in himself; he may not be able to fly, but the young wizard had no doubt in his ability to cast spells on objects.

“Really? How wonderful!” She cried, going pink with pleasure and she hugged him impulsively to express her thanks. Markl was sure he felt the ground disappear beneath his feet again in the rosy moment that followed, but he was brought back to earth by his mother's voice.

“Are you up there, Markl?” Sophie called.

Theresa and Markl peered down through the hatch and caught sight of the silver haired witch staring up at them from the observation deck below.

“Oh, hello, Theresa dear; I was wondering where you had gone.”

“Markl and I were watching the fireworks. They are really spectacular seen from up here, Mrs. Howl,” Theresa spoke with elation, although his mother seemed dubious.

“Barimus is here, you two should come down and say hello,” Sophie called and turned with a motherly look back to make sure they were descending the ladder before she disappeared down the spiral staircase.

For the first time he could recall, Markl wanted to kick his mother.

 

xXx

 

Long after the family had gone to sleep, Markl lay awake in his bed staring at the gables of the ceiling overhead. He was fully clothed and still wore the purple earrings Howl had given him. The young wizard should have been thinking about his eminent trip into the otherworld, but instead his mind was stuck on a certain red-haired girl.

The knock at his door brought him back to himself and it opened to reveal his master and uncle. Markl sat up and blinked at them owlishly, noting the grins on their face.

“I heard someone got caught in the crow's-nest with Theresa,” Barimus eyed him wolfishly and Howl had to stifle a chuckle as Markl turned scarlet in the dark. The three wizards went downstairs silently, and Calcifer watched them with large eyes.

“Congratulations,” he crackled genuinely as they passed then popped, “And good luck.”

Standing before the front door, Howl looked back at his apprentice as he turned the magic knob to the black mark.

“Ready?”

Markl nodded and winced as Barimus ruffled his hair.

“Remember that there is no sound in the otherworld,” Howl continued, a slight smile on his handsome face and his large blue eyes alight with anticipation, “You'll get the hang of communicating with your thoughts eventually.”

His master opened the door and the young apprentice shivered as the fey wind of the otherworld filtered into the room. The doorway opened up into a vast indigo sky unlike anything Markl had ever seen. Not without fear, he stepped over the boundary between worlds and slowly floated into a place made of dreams.

 

xXx

 

As the bright outline of the doorway folded into nothing, the young wizard experienced the most unnerving sense of simultaneous buoyancy and absolute heaviness. Buffeted by the constant otherwind, he foundered in the air and began to panic as he listed to the side.

Barimus and Howl glided effortlessly from above and took a hold of his elbows, helping him keep upright as they began a slow descent into the world below. Thousands of tiny lights winked and glowed serenely beneath his feet and for a moment he had the disorienting feeling that he had gotten turned upside down. But the darkness below the mellow velvet sky resolved into gentle rolling green hills that seemed to reach until the end of eternity.

It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

Just as Howl pointed into the distance, Markl took notice of a reddish tinge in the sky, which made the indigo veil look like it had been burned. Beneath the scorched portion of the sky, a thin dusky line stretched endlessly just before the horizon. It seemed to hungrily absorb the gentle light of the tranquil world, appearing dry and stolid in comparison to the verdant green that was quickly rushing up to meet them.

As they touched down, Howl began to walk over the hills toward the thing in the distance. Barimus looked back, his hair and clothes fluttering soundlessly in the otherwind as he beckoned Markl. They walked in silence for what seemed like both seconds and hours until his master held up a hand. Once more he motioned to the thing in the distance and Markl recognized it now as the Dull Wall.

Fascination and revulsion filled him as he peered at the coal-like bricks of the Wall. He felt a powerful compulsion to go to the thing, in spite of the fact that every thread of his being screamed at him to do the opposite. As he took a step forward Howl placed a hand on his chest and gazed back at him with serene eyes. His master shook his head.

Barimus and Howl once again took his arms as they lifted from the ground. Hovering in the air just high enough so that they could see over the Dull Wall, the red wizard pointed into the beyond. Markl could see the scorched black sands that blew in that empty place. His face twisted in horror as he caught sight of the thousands of twisting red lights that writhed in that burned place. The sky above boiled for a moment and glowed red as his heart filled with terror.

Is that hell? Markl managed to think with some difficulty at his master, who turned and regarded him.

Heaven and Hell are uncertain things; they are a perhaps that exists far beyond this world. Howl replied in his enigmatic way, and then turned his eyes back beyond the Wall. That is the scorched plain, the place were the otherworld was scarred by the Mage Wars ages ago. The Wallmakers created the Dull Wall to keep the Dark beyond it from consuming the green.

Is it evil? Markl sent to both wizards who let go of his arms as they sank back onto the green below.

Magic isn't good or evil, Markl. It simply is. Equally, the Wall is not bound to either light or dark. Howl's thoughts were colored with cryptic spirals of wisdom.

Barimus' thoughts washed like angry crimson water over the lingering serenity of Howl's. The red wizard scowled as he gazed at the barrier with open disgust. The Dull Wall is mortal magic, which is as fallible as those that wield it. It is insatiable and unfeeling, but it serves its purpose.

Casting his eyes over his shoulder to the peaceful rolling hills, Markl felt the wistful need to lie in the grass and stare at the sky. Almost as though he read his apprentice's mind, Howl reached out and touched Markl's shoulder, his eyes powerful as he pulled the boy back in himself. The red wizard gained the apprentice's attention once more.

Don't be deceived by the green hills, as much as they look like paradise, they are not. Barimus explained. The otherworld exists between the mortal realm and the great beyond. You must be vigilant in this place, Markl. The otherwind erodes even time in this place. Stay too long and it will rob you of everything, you mind, your soul and your life.

Howl made a sweeping motion. This is where magic comes from, Markl. Wizards once took it for granted and almost destroyed it in their pride. It must be revered and protected at all costs. The balance must be preserved; should this world be consumed by the Darkness beyond so too will the mortal realm.

I think I understand. Markl replied as he gazed up at the indigo sky above.

Howl patted his apprentice's shoulder and turned to walk back the way they had come. Barimus gave the young wizard a playful shove and grinned at him as they followed after the raven-haired man.

Mark experienced an unsettling sense of pressure between his ears just as Howl and Barimus stopped in their tracks, a look of surprise on both of their faces. Casting his eyes about, Howl pointed at something on the edge of the verdant hills.

The tiny shapes flickered and danced into life, growing brighter and more colorful as they drew near. Barimus looked as though he was choking on something. Howl's face grew alive with wonder as the points of shimmering light trailed gossamer strands of magic as they fell from above like stars. The twisting points of light resolved into human-like forms outlined in silver, the starry sky seemed to fill them.

A rainbow halo surrounded their heads and tiny eyes blinked at them full of mystery. The living lights joined hands and danced around the three wizards, their tiny voice chiming like a harmony of a thousand silver bells within their minds. The beings beckoned, implored, ignored, and rejoiced all at once; rolling back and forth like the tides of the sea.

Like the night sky before dawn, the figures began to fade as the chain of their hands broke. One by one they sparkled once more into points of light and shot off into the indigo veil. One remained behind, trembling as though it were caught in a strong wind. It gestured with its arms imploringly before it dimmed into nothing.

Howl's face was troubled as he reached out to the being just before it disappeared. A resolute expression hardened his features and the wizard clapped his hands, where there would have been a sound like a clap of thunder, a great whirling pressure swelled and split the otherworld in two. The three found themselves thrust back into the mortal world through the front door of the castle, which slammed shut after them.

 

xXx

 

“You look awful, Howl!” Calcifer crackled as the royal wizard and the young apprentice clambered up the steps after the Wallmakers' son. The raven-haired man flopped down on the couch in front of the fire daemon and flung a hand over his eyes. The grey light of dawn filtered in through the castle windows; apparently they had been gone for some time.

“Did that just happen, or am I dreaming?” Barimus peered at his brother as he sat on the couch next to him.

“What were those things,” Markl asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

“Those were the star children, Markl,” Howl replied wearily, “Haven't you ever heard that story?”

“No…” Markl replied hesitantly, embarrassed by his lack of knowledge, “What are star children?”

“Suliman used to tell us stories about them when we were still apprentices,” Barimus replied.

“They appeared once when Suliman pulled Sophie and I into the otherworld before the war ended,” Howl mumbled wearily from under his hand.

“Suliman must have really meant business if they showed up for that. This is the first time I've ever seen them,” Barimus leaned back in his chair, still in awe. Howl finally began the story he had mentioned before.

“There's an ancient tale about how both light and dark magic came into this world. It is also the same story that ells where the first witches and wizards came from. When this world was new, a mortal man and woman fell in love. The woman was said to be so kind and beautiful that a star fell in love with her. The magical being stole her away from her husband and the mortal world. As the story goes, the woman soon returned the star's affections, for who couldn't love star?

“The woman soon had to return to the mortal world because she was with child. She gave birth to twins: a boy and a girl who were at once both stars and mortals. They were the first witch and wizard and the bringers of magic to this world.

“But all was not well. The mortal woman's spurred husband was filled with hate and he cursed her and her children. The mother fell ill and died under the curse, but her children were powerful and survived. The dark magic the mortal man had called in revenge consumed him, and he became one of the first daemons of the dark.

“He would have destroyed the whole world in his rage. But the star who had stolen his wife was made strong by his grief over the death of his love. With his power he split the world of magic from the mortal realm and creating the otherworld, trapping the Darkness beyond the indigo veil.

“As the star fell to the mortal world and lay dying, his children found him. The being blessed them and gave them the ability to go between the worlds. He also conferred onto them the last of his magic so that they would be able to protect themselves from the curse that still lingered upon them. Although their father was not strong enough to break the curse, he changed it so that their days would be filled with both love and suffering.”

“After their father died, the children of the star made a choice; they decided that they must part to protect the worlds from being destroyed: one would go into the otherworld and one would stay in the mortal world. Together they would strive to preserve balance. It is said that all the witches and wizards today are descendants from the Star Child that remained in the mortal world.”

“According to the story, the beings we saw in the otherworld just now are descendants of the Star Child who stayed in the otherworld. We're lucky, a wizard can live for hundreds of years and never see one.”

Markl was spellbound by Howl's tale and remained silent long after his master had finished. He spoke hesitantly, remembering the being that had lingered imploringly.

“What about the star that lingered behind the others. What did it want?”

“I don't know,” Howl removed his hand and stared at the ceiling, his eyes troubled.

“But it seemed like it was trying to talk to us, like it wanted to warn us,” The apprentice continued.

“Daemons are never reliable,” Calcifer crackled ominously from the grate, “Especially star daemons. They're too old and flightily, they never make any sense.”

“Weren't you a star at one point in time, Calcifer?” Markl rounded on the little flame with intense eyes. The spark popped in surprise, flickering small.

“For a moment as I fell into the mortal world. I wasn't really anything until Howl swallowed me,” Cal replied evasively, then closed his eyes and dwindled small, pretending to go to sleep.

“I wonder what this means?” The young apprentice mused seriously.

“It doesn't mean anything, Markl; it's just a story. Try not to think about it too much,” Howl replied in a dismissive voice as he shot to his feet, transforming mercurially from complete repose to swift movement. He ruffled his apprentice's hair as he passed by and headed towards the stairs.

“You did well, Markl. Best we get some sleep now. Good night,” Howl called as he went upstairs.

Markl and Barimus lingered behind and the young apprentice felt a surge of resentment for his master. That's the problem, Master Howl. You never think too much about anything. Markl fumed silently, still staring into the fire. He must have been hiding his anger very poorly, because Barimus chuckled and cast an upside down glance at Markl from the couch.

“Come sit, Markl. Don't brood too darkly or you're liable to scorch the floor.”

The ginger-haired boy flopped down next to the red wizard and stretched his long legs out to the fire. He had grown about an inch over the last three weeks and his new height still surprised him. The moodiness he was feeling did not pass and intensified due to the fact that he felt gangling and out of place in his changing body. Barimus waited patiently, regarding the sulking boy mildly.

“Why does Master Howl always dismiss EVERYTHING like NOTHING matters?” Markl exploded suddenly.

“He goes on and on about responsibility and vigilance and paying attention to the ripples of magic in the otherworld. But whenever I try to talk to him about something important in this world he shrugs it off like I'm imagining things! Something is happening, uncle Barimus, I can feel it! And Howl's ignoring everything!”

Markl suddenly felt ashamed at his outburst. He colored heavily as hot blood rushed into his cheeks. Casting a fearful glance at Granny Witch's curtain, the young wizard heard only snoring. Barimus seemed surprised; although the even expression with which he regarded his nephew had not changed. His uncle's scrutiny made him feel even worse.

Who was he to judge his master? Howl's methods were always unconventional; perhaps he wasn't ignoring things. Perhaps he was simply trying to protect him. But he was the wizard's apprentice! They were supposed to work together, not keep secrets from one another! The conflicting feelings within the young man flared and chilled, sending him through emotional back flips.

“Do you want to talk about what's really bothering you, Markl?” The red wizard's voice was kind as he spoke and Markl relented.

The young wizard stumbled through a halting recount of the last two days. He started with the trip to Market Chipping, how he had lost Shan and then found him in a back alley with the strange cold woman. He quickly recounted his brother's tale about the little silver-haired girl. Finally, so that he would not loose momentum due to hesitancy, Markl told the red wizard about what he had seen and heard over Mrs. Fairfax's shoulder six years ago.

Encouraged by the intense look of attention on the Royal Wizard's face, Mark again swore heatedly that he had heard a baby's cry. He watched his uncle carefully; worried that he too would withdraw from him under the weight of sorrowful memories. But Barimus seemed to galvanize under the pain that showed plainly in his eyes.

“Are you sure, Markl? Could Shan be fibbing?”

“Shan's telling the truth. I can always tell when he's lying. I'm positive it's her, the healer I saw that night. Something about her never sat right with me and it was the same when I saw her yesterday.”

The red wizard regarded him grimly, “I believe you Markl. Listen to me, I'm going to tell you some things about what happened that night and you have to promise that you will keep them to yourself.”

“That goes for you too, Calcifer,” Barimus shot a look at the little ember, who was glowing a soft red-yellow.

“I know more secrets about this family then you can count, you ruddy-wizard. Have I ever blabbed about any of them?” The little spark grumbled irritably, not deigning to roll over and look at them. The red wizard seemed satisfied with that and turned his attention back to Markl. His voice was strong and his story went straight to the point.

“Six years ago, someone put a curse on the mirror in the suite Martha and I reside in at the Palace. It would have killed her if Sophie hadn't broken it. It was a premeditated attack. Just before it took effect someone sent Howl a forged letter from me on stolen stationary. At the same time I was summoned by a similar false letter from Howl to somewhere else in Kingsbury.

“The magic used on both was the same, and a group of my supporters from the council used it to track down the culprit in the seedy district of the capital. We questioned the magician, but he was a lesser magician of minimal powers. There was no way he could have masterminded such a well executed plan. This was made all the more clear when we realized that someone had meddled with his mind and he had nothing to tell.

“We dug deeper, but never found anything. This is the first lead we've had in six years.”

Barimus reached out and patted him on the shoulder, a fierce smile on his face, “You are your master's son, Markl. You have great power and you should trust your instincts. I am glad you told me about this. I will look into it; I promise you that, but please leave this to me now. Whatever is going on may be far more dangerous than it appears.”

The red wizard stood as suddenly as Howl had, his eyes lost in thought. Markl's instincts told him that the wizard had not told him everything and again he was seized by irrational anger over begin treated like a child. Those feeling melted like ice as his uncle regarded him with open approval.

“I would like it very much if you would come by the palace and see me. You're growing up very quickly and I dare say you will not be an apprentice for long. I'd like to introduce you to some witches and wizards who will make excellent contacts for when you start your own career. Also, you should stop by Martha's shop and say hello to your auntie. She does so enjoy your visits.

“We're very proud of you Markl,” This was Barimus' way of saying goodnight, and the red wizard turned and disappeared out the front door.

Markl wasn't sure how long he sat there staring at Calcifer's flames. Outside the early twilight had brightened into a sunny dawn. The weary apprentice turned bleary eyes to regard Sophie as she came down the stairs to make breakfast.

 

xXx

 

It had taken some finagling, but Markl finally convinced Sophie to let him go to Kingsbury unaccompanied. At first, he had used Barimus' offer as the reason for his desire to visit the capital. But Sophie regarded her son knowingly and Markl was sure she had seen straight through him.

Much to the young wizard's dismay, Howl waved off his apprentice's appeals for support. His silver haired mother had stalwartly refused, coming very close to loosing her temper. But Howl finally stepped in, explaining to his wife that Markl was coming very close to journeyman status as a wizard's apprentice and should be out making contacts. Sophie had gathered herself to launch into a full scale rebuttal, but she recanted for some reason. The silver witch regarded him over breakfast with a look he could not decipher, and finally acquiesced.

“Can I go too?” Shan bounced in excitement, but cowed under his mother's look. The black-haired little boy pitched a fit as Markl pulled on his patchwork cloak and got ready to go.

“I want to go too!” His little brother wailed tearfully, sitting in the middle of the floor and refusing to let Sophie pick him up. “I wanna, I wanna, I wanna!”

“Gah! Someone smother me please!” Calcifer cried in exasperation as he tried to hide under a stout piece of wood.

“Oh, what a loud little boy,” Granny witch mumbled as she gazed at the stormy rain cloud that was Shan, who showered the floor with tears. Heen, who had grown fatter and lazier over the years, could barely squeeze under the old woman's chair and regarded the toddler with terrified eyes. Howl laughed at his youngest son and was no help at all as he leaned over the little boy, giving him pointers on how to throw a tantrum.

“If you're going to throw a fit, Shan, you need to kick your feet. You won't get any attention if you sit there like a lump.”

“Howl! Don't encourage him! He needs to learn that he won't get anything when he does that,” Sophie cried at her husband in consternation as she did her best to ignore the raven-haired little boy.

Amongst all the screaming the castle seemed suffocating and extremely foreign to Markl. He was seized by a compulsion to get out of there as quickly as possible. He slipped down the stairs and turned the magic knob to red, disappearing out into the busy streets of Kingsbury without a goodbye of a look back. Even full of the smoking perambulator machines the citizens of the capital used to get about, the city seemed quiet and peaceful compared to the castle.

The young wizard let out a sigh and took off for Martha's shop, his hand closing around the object he held in his pocket. He had spent the better part of the last week inside due to nasty weather. But he passed the time up in the workshop studying his new books and tinkering with the spell he was working on. Howl had answered all of his questions on magic and components without probing into the why of his need. Markl was very grateful at times for the hands-off approach his master took to letting him explore beyond the lessons he gave.

The thing in his pocket was actually the reason he had asked to go into Kingsbury. He hadn't forgotten the offer he made to Theresa; far from it. It had given him such single minded inspiration that Howl had given an uninvited complement for his work, a rare act for the distracted wizard.

Markl, however, managed to get completely lost in Kingsbury.

The Ingarian capital was a huge city, with broad open streets lined with white elms and towering town houses five and six stories high. There were no gaps between any of the buildings, which soared overhead blocking out any natural phenomena that could have acted as a guide to the young wizard. Busy citizens rushed about in finery that made him feel like a county bumpkin, and he finally worked up enough courage to ask directions from a soldier who stood motionless in a large square.

Finally, the streets became narrower and the houses more subdued. In the distance Markl caught sight of the huge weeping willow that leaned over Martha's herb shop. The white washed little cottage sat on a wild patch of green bursting with wildflowers and bees. It was encircled by a raw wood picket fence and in the back the ginger haired youth could see a couple of greenhouses.

A heavy gilded sign hung over the shop's door depicting a mortar, pestle, and a leafy green something. Gazing at the cottage, Markl realized it looked like someone had scooped up a handful of the Folding Valley and transplanted it smack in the middle of Kingsbury. Markl didn't put it past the magic of the red wizard. According to Aunt Lettie, who gossiped notoriously every time she saw him, Uncle Barimus loved his wife madly and would go to any lengths to please her. Also according to his eldest aunt, Barimus needed to spend more time with said wife, who she felt he was neglecting.

Gathering his courage, Markl pushed open the gate and went up to the door, knocking politely. Someone peered out at him through a lacey curtain and the door flew open as his youngest Aunt towered in the doorway. Markl flinched before her presence. The herbalist my not have had powerful magic, but she had the uncanny ability to project herself with such ferocity that she could be terrifying. She blinked and softened into a pose that communicated delight and welcome as she recognized him.

“Markl! I couldn't see you, you're cloak is making you blend in with the walk. Come in, come in,” that was the most words he had heard her speak in a while. Martha was not known to be chatty.

She ushered him into the dim and smoky store, and the spicy green aroma that always clung to the hedge witch enfolded him. Hanging his cloak on the pegs next to the door, Markl cast his eyes around the room. Shelves upon shelves of white labeled glass jars and opaque crockery lined the walls. A few were dedicated to large bound books and heavy stone mortars and pestles. Creeping vines and lacey ferns in pots of many colors and sizes crammed every window ledge and flat space, giving the light that filtered inside an emerald tinge.

Martha moved back to the huge oak table that dominated the room, it managed to be at once wild and ordered with the many scales, bowls, and smoking braziers that strewn across its landscape. His aunt was wearing a natural colored chemise and baggy green pants exactly like Theresa had been wearing in the crow's-nest. Around her neck hung a large ruby pendant that Markl knew was a talisman, he recalled seeing Barimus wear it at one point in time. She looked tired and pale, wisps of her black hair escaping the braid she had coiled around her head.

Regardless of her appearance, the woman returned to a large grinding stone and began to relentlessly pounding a substance into a fine power. He was about to ask her how she was when she spoke suddenly, not looking up from her work.

“Theresa's in the garden. If not in the greenhouses, try the trees.”

Markl blushed furiously, but Martha didn't notice. That was her way of telling him she had nothing more to say. He retreated out the front door and rounded the cottage by way of a stone path. The backyard had looked deceptively small from the front, but it was huge. Trees of every kind lined the wooden fence, which was taller here, and the three glass hot houses suddenly multiplied into six. The long rows of the garden burst with healthy and well kept plants marked by small labels on stakes.

Wind chimes and bits of colored glass sparkled here and there as Markl wandered through the backyard. He entertain a squirrelly sense of pride as he picked out the places where Barimus had magicked the garden to be bigger that the actual size of the plot it stood on. He listened to the distant patter of water from some pond or fountain hidden someplace in the foliage. His heart nearly leapt out of his chest as Theresa dropped from a tree ahead of him and landed with skilled grace.

“Oh! Hi, Markl. I didn't see you there. Did I scare you?” She turned to regard him with surprise and colored a rosy pink as she attempted to dust herself off.

It was a futile effort.

The herbalist's assistant was barefoot and muddy. Her baggy green pants were caked with soil at both hem and knees. She smudged a line of grim on her cheek as she scratched her nose with her equally dirty hands. Markl noted that there were leaves and sticks in her curly red hair, which she had twisted into two knots at either side of her head. She regarded him with big green eyes and placed hers hand on her hips. At that moment he thought she had never looked lovelier, and realized at once he was staring.

“Um, hi, Theresa,” he replied haltingly, “N-no, you didn't scare me.”

“Did you come to visit Lady Martha? She's in a powerful bad mood today, best leave her alone. But you can keep me company if you like,” she replied brightly and began walking off into the garden. Markl followed behind feeling like a lame duck.

Theresa snagged a watering can and began showering a line of low growing herbs. Again Markl was staring and he tried to start up a conversation as he dragged out the charm in his pocket.

“I actually came to see you, Theresa. I mean, that is, because I finished that charm I told you about,” he foundered helplessly.

“What charm?” She replied as she sat down the watering can. She regarded the bit of colored glass and feather that dangled on a string with dubious eyes.

“Remember from the crow's-nest,” his heart sank as he realized she didn't remember their conversation in the slightest, “I said I'd make you a charm that can help you fly.”

She straightened and stared at him in utter surprise. Her face went through an amazing transformation as she realized what he was talking about it. The apprentice could feel his knees going weak. She seized his hand, almost crushing the charm as she hopped in place, her face alight with pure delight.

“I thought you were just saying that! You really made it didn't you? Oh, Markl, how wonderful!”

She snatched it out of his hand and peered at it curiously, then tied it around her neck. Before he could explain, she tensed and hunched with an intense look of concentration on her face. Theresa let out the breath she held with a great gush and looked at him in despair.

“It's not working…” She said in a small sad voice and Markl couldn't help but laugh.

“It's not for you to wear, silly,” He replied sensibly and reached to untie it from her neck, “We need something like a broom.”

“How about a hoe?” Theresa asked in excitement and dashed off to snatch up the gardening tool from where it leaned against a tree.

Markl took it from her and wrapped he charm around the very top of the shaft. He touched the bit of glass and string and whistled tunelessly. They glowed brightly for a moment, and sunk into the wood with a hiss and shimmer. The circle of green glass embedded itself in the wood, showing through to the feather beneath. The magic felt strong and alive beneath his hands, and his heart soared. Turning, he handed it to Martha, who was regarding him with a look of absolute awe. He would have been shy under that gaze, but magic always made him confident.

“Try it now,” he spoke calmly and the red headed girl tucked the hoe between her legs, a worried expression wrinkling her brow.

“It won't work if you don't believe silly!” He laughed in good humor as Theresa' face twisted in concentration. A light wind ruffled her clothing as she lifted from the ground. Her face went alive with surprise.

“It's working! I'm flying,” She cried in delight as she climbed into the air slowly. The red-head was about ten feet up when she realized how high she was going and wobbled uncertainly.

“I'm frightened!” She cried.

The ground fell away beneath Markl's feet as he darted upwards like a bird. Theresa latched onto him as they paused mid-air, nearly dragging herself off the garden hoe.

“Whoa, hold onto the hoe, Theresa! I can't keep us both in the air,” Markl spoke quickly. The white faced girl let go of him and seized the head of the garden tool, wobbling unsteadily.

“Don't let go!” She almost shrieked and Markl gently took a hold of her shoulders, steadying her in the air. They simply floated there for a while until the panic left Theresa. Her head suddenly snapped up as she regarded the young wizard.

“Markl, you're flying!”

“So I am,” he laughed as he regarded the girl with his brown eyes, “Feel better now?

Theresa nodded, but still eyed the ground dubiously.

“Remember, you have to trust the spell. It will weaken and you will wobble if you're afraid. Half of magic is simply believing. Shall I let go?”

She nodded again, but this time with more conviction. As he lifted his hands she remained balanced and with a shout of glee, she leaned forward and began sailing around the garden. Under Markl's encouraging tutelage, Theresa was swooping around the garden in no time and they began to climb higher into the air.

In fact, they began attracting a crowd. Markl could see a few interested citizens's pointing at them from the streets beyond the tree line. A couple of air kayaks buzzed them curiously, and Markl waved to the guards that rode them. They seemed quite surprised, and one even waved back.

“We should probably go down, Theresa!” Markl called at the squealing girl, who zipped through the sky like a hawk, “The magic is only good for a little bit each day. If you ride it for too long it will take a days to recharge!”

“Awww, do we have to?” She cried sullenly, but followed quickly as the young wizard began sinking.

The crowd of people had grown larger, and Markl could see their faces as the ground approached from below. A spidery feeling snaked across his mind as he recognized a figure among the people. The cold woman leapt out of the crowd under his eyes like a flame in the dark. She was staring right at him with such open hatred that he felt faint. Standing by her side, holding the woman's hand was a tiny girl about Shan's age. She had silver hair, just like Sophie's.

“Markl, what is it?” Theresa's voice brought him back to himself and the young apprentice realized he was hovering just above the trees.

“What the devil do you two think you're doing?!” Martha's voice startled them both.

They fell from the sky like stones as the spell broke under their surprise. Luckily they landed in the deep pond beneath them with a splash. Unluckily, Markl managed to swallow a mouthful of green slime before he could clamp his mouth shut.