Howl's Moving Castle Fan Fiction ❯ Yn y Dechrau ❯ Chapter Four: In which there are various conflicts and a great explosion ( Chapter 4 )

May 2, 2006

Yn y Dechrau
Chapter Four: In which there are various conflicts anda great explosion
by Ina-chan

In most stories, heroes and heroines mostly live ordinary boring lives in the beginning. Things don't get very much exciting until the appearance of the “conflict” which will eventually lead to the “climactic ending”. Before the appearance of the fated plotline twist in a story, however, hints of clues are dropped early in the beginning. It is a term called “foreshadowing.” In Howell's case, the foreshadowing of change came rather subtle that even on hindsight, it wasn't noticeable it at all… probably.

The trouble all started with Seymour Butts.

Seymour, aside from having well-meaning but thoughtless parents, was the runt of the school pack and was Jeff Malcomson's favourite victim. That was, until the year Howell walked through the school doors along with the new batch of Grade Nines. It was a simple recipe for disaster rooted from the circumstance of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

First was Howell witnessing Jeff Malcomson methods of torment for the first time. It was the end of the first day of the school year and all the students were filing out of their classrooms to head home. That was when a group of big, loud, jeering, laughing boys thundered through the hallways as they pushed a small terrified Tenth Year amongst themselves as if they were passing a rugby ball. Despite the obvious terror that Seymour Butts was being subjected to, no one in the hallways who witnessed the atrocity offered any assistance. In fact, the crowd even parted like the Red Sea to let the rowdy group pass.

Then, there was the sudden strong sense of injustice that welled within Howell with what he was witnessing. For as long as he could remember, Nana Kerrie ingrained within him and his sister the values of their family's short, but proud history. When both his grandfather and great grandfather were young men, they bravely answered the call of King and country during the two Great Wars. Nana Kerrie had always instilled in her grandchildren that strong pride of standing firm to defend their beliefs and to help those who were weaker.

Add to the formula a very pretty girl from Year Eleven by the name of Stephanie Church, along with her equally attractive group of friends, who happened to be standing nearby, just waiting to be impressed by a show of righteous chivalry.

Mix that together with childish foolishness and the typical Year Nine naïveté of the high school social structure… those were pretty much the main reasons on what spurred Howell to even open his mouth.

“What did you say?” Jeff Malcomson's deep voice boomed loudly and clearly across the hall, instantly causing all incessant school corridor chatter to come to an eerie and complete halt. Those who were standing within a meter radius around Howell, scattered and scrambled away to safety.

Seeing the opportunity, Seymour had fled the scene. Howell and Jeff Malcomson faced each other like the proverbial David and Goliath with the shocked school population as their audience. Everyone was watching the hallway drama with baited breath as the older boy's shadow loomed over the smaller boy threateningly. Howell quickly realized the wisdom of turning a blind eye when such circumstances occurred. He probably would have been forgiven, being a tiny newbie freshman, if he backed down. But with his courage gone, all that was left was his pride, which unfortunately wouldn't allow him to turn tail.

“I just thought…that… what you… were doing…wasn't...” Howell replied hoarsely, his throat becoming painfully dry all of the sudden, “…nice…”

A smirk curled the corner of the older boy's lips as he turned to his companions, and jostled them amidst amused chuckles. “Did you hear that boys? He thinks that we should play nice.”

Jeff Malcomson's friends roared loudly. With that, Jeff Malcomson turned his attention back to Howell's smaller form. “You want to know what I think, runt? I think you have other things to do with your time other than sticking your nose into other people's business. You wouldn't want anything to happen to that pretty face of yours, right?”

In Year Six's General Science class, students were introduced to the concept that in order for certain animal species to survive, they have a built-in “fight or flight” response within their brains. The prey's brain, in the presence of danger, transmits certain signals through “neuroreceptors” to elicit changes in the body, such as a surge in adrenaline, dilation of the pupils, and stimulation of the lungs to ensure more oxygen is pumped to the brain. All of this happens in order to for the prey to flee from danger or to their fight predators in defence and hopefully it would be enough divert the predator it can flee. Human beings, being a species within the animal kingdom, have this basic instinct. But Mother Nature was not counting for humans to evolve into stubborn and rebellious creatures who foolishly believed that going against the basic survival instincts that she had provided was a good thing.

One can argue that the whole thing happened due to Howell simply overcoming his limitations as a human being. Then again, there was also the fact that even as a child, Howell was a flighty git. While it may have started with Seymour Butts, the string of events that happened afterwards seemed too convenient to be blamed merely on coincidence. Call it fate, or destiny, or karma… or even as how Mumbles colourfully described it as: Mother Nature's way of eliminating the rejects from the gene pool. In the end, it seemed to amount to the fact that Howell had the penchant for getting himself trapped within the webs of his own making.

Because at that moment, Howell saw from the corner of his eye the very pretty Stephanie Church and her group of equally pretty friends giggle amongst themselves upon hearing the older boy's comments. As many foolish men recorded in history who had fallen for the same reason, Pride brought about Howell's downfall. Before his brain even realized what he was doing, the words had already left his lips.

“I think the fact that you find me pretty tells me that you have other things to worry about than picking on those who can't to fight back.”

A collective gasp echoed across the room as Jeff Malcomson and his cronies stared at him with unmistakable shock. By this time, Howell's brain had pretty much caught on with the impulsivity of his tongue. It didn't take a genius to figure out, as Jeff Malcomson grabbed him by the collar, that Howell's chances for survival had dropped drastically, possibly beyond resuscitation. Nonetheless, Howell met the older boy's glare impassively in silent defiance.

Then, a very scary smile slowly curled the ends of the older boy's lips as if a very pleasant thought came to his mind. “What's your name?”

“Howell… Jenkins…” Howell rasped, stiffening instinctively as he felt the older boy loosen his grip around his collar and the older boy's tree trunk-like arms wrap around the younger boy's shoulders tightly… but in a-not-so-friendly-way.

“Well then, Howell Jenkins,” Jeff Malcomson stated as he gave his mates a knowing grin and led the helpless smaller boy through the now silent halls. “Since you seem to have caused us to be one person short of a friendly rugby match, I can speak for my entire crew that we would be most honoured if you allow us to play with you.”

“Oh…” Howell squeaked as he forced a nervous smile, “…that's… flattering. But I… I need to go home. My… my… grandmother is…”

“I don't think I made myself clear, Jenkins,” Jeff Malcomson interrupted as he gave the younger boy an enthusiastic squeeze before letting his voice drop to a low, threatening whisper. “You don't have a choice.”

“Bullocks,” Howell muttered under his breath as the older boys gathered around him. They led him through the hallways towards the direction of the school yard while the entire student body witnessing the event watched the silent procession. His eyes darted around desperately for help, but everyone who met his gaze quickly turned away, shamefully.

From that experience, Howell learned a valuable lesson.

“Heroism is overrated,” Howell declared upon reflection, approximately one bloody nose, one sprained wrist, and an entertaining Megan-on-a-rampage-at-the-Malcomsons'-front-yard-show later.

“It was your own fault,” Mumbles stated bluntly from the corner of Howell's bed, as she leafed through a big book resting on her lap. “You brought it upon yourself because you stupidly wanted to impress a couple of bubbleheads who don't even know you exist.”

“And what should I have done then? Just stand there and let them continue with their bullying?” Howell demanded crossly

“If you really wanted to help,” Mumbles replied monotonously, still not lifting her head from her book, “you would have run to get a teacher to stop it.”

“You mean snitch?” Howell stared at his best friend with a horrified expression on his face. “Do you have any idea what would happen if people were to find out that I snitched on Jeff Malcomson?”

“And confronting him head on did you a lot of good?” Mumbles countered, finally looking up to give her best friend a bland stare.

Howell simply glared at her, not really knowing how to reply to that. Instead he pointed an accusing finger at her. “And you just stood there. Some friend you are!”

“So that you know,” Mumbles replied, “I considered pulling the fire alarm to divert their attention.”

“Eh?” Howell stopped with a start and stared at his friend in surprise. “You were going to do that for me?” His expression then changed to deadpan annoyance. “So why didn't you?”

Mumbles simply made a nonchalant shrug, still not bothering to take her attention away from her book. “I realized that it was a hundred times more entertaining to hear you screaming like a little girl.”

“No charm or grace, whatsoever,” Howell sniffed haughtily, nudging the girls leg with his foot as if to taunt her. “And you wonder why people question whether you're a real girl or not.”

“Say what you must,” Mumbles retorted expressionlessly. “It doesn't change the fact that I can still kick your sorry rear end with both hands tied behind my back.”

“I never imagined that you were actually heartless in that cold demeanour of yours,” Howell moaned pathetically as he made a theatrical show of cradling his injured arm. “The least thing you could do is feign sympathy to make a mortally wounded man feel better in his humiliation and misery.”

Mumbles simply snorted in reply.

Howell frowned at her reaction, a more sombre expression crossing his features. “Seriously Felicia, weren't you the least bit worried over my pain?”

“Not as long as you make a spectacle of yourself for attention,” Mumbles snorted, before finally lifting her eyes to gaze at him with an equally serious expression. “I'll start to worry when you stop.”

The line on the boy's forehead furrowed deeper at the girl's odd statement. “Stop? Stop what?”

Mumbles stared at him in annoyed silence for a few moments, before averting her gaze and making a big show of closing her book with a loud clap. “I'm going home.”

“Why are you mad all of the sudden?” Howell called out in bewilderment before stopping and giving his friend a strange look. “This isn't one of those supposedly weird once a month girl thing that Megan seems to have every day, is it?”

“Idiot,” Mumbles shot back as she disappeared through his door, muttering what sounded like “and he calls me heartless” under her breath.

Unfortunately, the trouble started by Seymour Butts didn't end after Megan's intervention. The older boys' harassment continued in the form of indirect guerrilla-like attacks. While they were careful to never leave physical proof, the activity had left Howell of other students in school due to the uncertainty of their alliances. The slithering out techniques he mastered in order to avoid his older sister's wrath had proven to be quite useful. However, Howell quickly discovered that he had a few sympathetic allies in the older classes, mostly admirers of his older sister. It seemed ironic that the reputation of being Megan's little brother was almost like a protection charm. When Megan got married and moved away, Howell thought for a moment that her protective aura would leave with her.

Then the strange affair with Mumbles started. Perhaps it was because she was always close to him, but for some strange reason, Mumbles seemed to be around whenever Howell found himself in a situation where his slithering out could not save him. It was odder still that Jeff Malcomson and his friends seemed to scatter whenever she came near. It was one thing with Megan, he almost expected his sister to show up or have a hand whenever he was at his worst. But with Mumbles, it was just freaky. In fact, Howell was starting to get unnerved by it.

That exactly was what happened that fateful afternoon, when Jeff Malcomson's friends discovered that Howell had been sneaking out of the school through the side stairwell emergency exit on the days when the Rugby Club was busy practicing in the school field. Just as the three older boys were circling around him like a pack of wolves, Mumbles came trotting down the stairwell. In an instant, Jeff Malcomson's friends sauntered casually out of the door.

“Are they at it again?” Mumbles asked softly as she watched the emergency exit doors close. “Good thing I was passing by. I don't think your grandmother will buy another stray rugby ball accident if they roughed you up again.”

“Why does this always happen?” Howell stated his thoughts out loud, still staring at the door with a bewildered expression on his face.

“Ed would tear Malcomson to shreds if he ever lays a finger on me. I don't think Malcomson or his sheep would dare to do anything to you if I'm around,” Mumbles garbled with a shrug upon seeing Howell's expression before breaking into a playful grin. “Don't worry, I'll protect you.”

At another time, Howell may have brushed off the comment with a witty joke. But all stress and frustrations that had accumulated within him for the past couple of weeks with no way to let them out were starting to get to him. While he suspected that Nana Kerrie knew the problems he'd been having in school, she didn't let on what she knew, on account of his pride, perhaps. After making that speech to Megan about being able to take care of himself on his own before she left, Howell was not about to run to his grandmother like a crying three-year-old. All in all, the situation has bruised his ego rather badly, hearing his best friend state his inadequacies aloud only made things worse.

“Then it's lucky for me to have you come to my rescue all the time,” Howell stated icily, in a tone more sharp than he intended

Mumbles froze and stared at him in shock before a hurt expression crossed her features. Seeing her reaction, Howell automatically felt sorry for snapping at her.

“Well, that's gratefulness for you,” Mumbles muttered with uncharacteristic anger before an apology left Howell's lips. “If you're going to develop a spine, make sure you show it to the appropriate person.”

Whatever guilt Howell felt instantly vanished upon hearing her words. He was well aware of his faults. Megan made sure of that. He already knew that he would never win a medal for bravery, but there was no need for Mumbles to rub it in like that. While he was grateful for her help, he didn't go on his hands and knees to ask for it.

“I never asked you to put your nose in my business,” Howell shot back angrily. “If you're going to act all high and mighty about it, take your brother's protection and stuff it! I don't need your help!”

Mumbles reeled back as if she was struck across the face. Her lower lip quivered as angry tears pooled at the corner of her eyes.

“Stupid,” came her almost inaudible whisper followed by an unsuccessfully suppressed sob. With that, she spun at her heels and burst through the emergency exit door, leaving Howell in the stairwell, feeling more alone than ever.

Seeing the girl run off made Howell feel like a complete heel. While he and his best friend had their usual tiffs and arguments, they never had a real fight. And, not once had he ever made her cry. And that made him angry.

Until that moment, Howell realized that it was really the first time that he truly felt angry. His ire burned within him like an uncontrollable blaze. He was angry at Megan for leaving and changing things, angry at Mumbles for suddenly acting like a girl, angry at Jeff Malcomson and his friends for torturing him, and most of all, angry at himself for letting all of it happen. His feelings clouded all other coherent thought in his head and pushed aside all his feelings save for the irrepressible desire to pacify his fury. The next thing he knew, he was standing on the edge, opposite Jeff Malcomson and his friends, of the Devil's Footprint.

The Devil's Footprint was a local landmark with almost legendary proportions. It was a natural chasm near an abandoned quarry just outside the village. It was called the Devil's Footprint because of its odd shape and the belief that it was a hole so deep that if someone was to fall in it, he will surely end up in the very bowels of hell. The fact that the body of Old John O'Connell, a miner who was believed to have fallen there in an accident forty years ago, was never found only fed notoriety to the legend. While it had been fenced off, boarded up, and declared off limits, it didn't stop any of the local boys, who sought adventure or made idiotic dares, from going there to prove their manhood.

Howell himself never set foot there before. His constant lapses of flightiness may have brought him into a world of trouble in the past, but he had more than enough sense to stay away from something that spelled certain death. And there was always something about the Devil's Footprint that unsettled him, so he took every excuse he could think of to steer clear from it whenever Mumbles or brother brought up an excursion to the place, even out on a dare. With the adrenaline from his fury quickly dissipating since the drive from school, Howell was quickly questioning the state of his sanity for challenging Jeff Malcomson to a stupid duel of the older boy's choice.

In fact, the strange energy that seemed to surround the entire area hit him almost instantly the moment Jeff Malcomson's car crossed the quarry's boundaries. The closer they got, the stronger it felt. It was as if there were little bolts of electricity shooting through in the air, prickling his skin, causing a dull itch. The sensation was worse on the areas of his body not protected by his clothing. Fighting the urge to scratch was starting to drive him insane.

“Well, Jenkins?” Jeff Malcomson jeered from his end, snapping Howell out of his reverie. “You feel like going home and crying to your grandma yet?”

`Better to live as a fool than die a foolish death' Howell heard one of Mumbles' deadpan sarcasms instantly murmur in his head. He frowned in annoyance. Even when his best friend wasn't around (and probably wouldn't be on speaking terms for at least a week), she still managed to poke fun at him. Howell was beginning to believe that he was truly cursed when it came to general relationships with the opposite gender.

“How does it feel now that you can't hide under your sister's skirt?” Jeff Malcomson broke that train of thought as he continued on with taunting.

Howell couldn't help glaring at the older boy, but didn't say anything else. While he knew quite clearly why Jeff Malcomson would think that way, it wasn't his fault that Megan was over-protective to the point of `scary'. Besides, Howell never admitted to being brave in the first place. He didn't even know what came over him to confront Jeff Malcomson, and it was an act of temporary insanity that he was quickly regretting.

The older boy, however, interpreted Howell's silence as an act of defiance. He glared back at the younger boy. “You make me sick. You strut around with that superior attitude of yours just because you're Ma'am Jenkin's boy, then go around walking like a wounded animal to gain people's sympathy so you can hide behind them like the coward that you are. Well guess what, we're going to teach you a lesson and not even your girlfriend can save you now.”

“My what!?” Howell cried out in complete bewilderment. But that was all he could do, as Jeff Malcomson's friends surrounded him. He swore under his breath. He should have known better than challenge Jeff Malcomson when the older boy's group of monkeys were around to follow faithfully. What was he thinking, believing that he would actually stand a chance?

Jeff Malcomson's friends jeered and laughed as they jostled and aimed slap shots at Howell between themselves. Howell knew all at once that he simply and stupidly invited the boys to give him a good beating with no witnesses. All Howell was able to do was raise his arms instinctively to protect his head. One boy managed to catch just above the ear him, causing him to loose his balance and stumble forward onto the protective wooden planks covering the Devil's Footprint. Howell instantly recognized the sound of the aged wood protesting loudly under his weight through the ringing in his ears. He froze, not even daring to breathe.

“Feeling a bit braver yet?” Jeff Malcomson ragged gleefully on top of his friends' taunts and laughter.

Howell knew that the lath and its supports, despite their age and the intimidating creaks they created whenever he shifted even the slightest, were more than enough to support his weight and possibly even five or more boys at the same time. But as he stood on top of the chasm, he knew for sure that the source of the strangeness of the place was that hole itself. The anxiety he was feeling instantly doubled. He didn't understand why he knew, and at that point, he didn't really care. All he wanted was to get away… far, far away!

Suddenly, one of the boys suddenly leapt unto the boards with him and started jumping up and down on it. Howell fell on his hands and knees in terror as the ground shook beneath him. Howell let out a startled yelp as a jolt of energy shot through him when his hands connected with the wood.

Jeff Malcomson let out a satisfied sigh. “Man, I wish your stupid sister could see this… her precious baby brother snivelling on the ground like a pathetic little doggie. Serves you right for making me look bad. It would serve HER right for humiliating me.”

Howell sat on his heels and stared at the older boy in surprise, completely forgetting about the terror he was feeling with his current situation. There was something in Jeff Malcomson's sulky tone that was hauntingly familiar, and Howell's face wrinkled in disgust upon realizing what it was. “I don't believe this…You fancy my sister!”

The older boy stared back at Howell, his face instantly turning beet red coupled with an expression similar to a three-year-old caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“You kept on torturing me because Megan went to your house and yelled at your father?” Howell continued on in complete disbelief.

Whatever ire that Howell lost to fear started to reignite with his indignation. By this time, Jeff Malcomson's friends were watching the scene in shocked silence. Surprisingly, they, too, were caught completely off-guard by Howell's revelation. Howell glanced at them from the corner of his eye with a smug expression, watching them shuffle and look at each other awkwardly as if they were unsure of what to do next. Howell was definitely starting to get genuinely pissed at the unfairness of the world. What was this? Kindergarten? Why the hell did he have to be caught in the middle of this in the first place?

“That's not…” Jeff Malcomson stammered weakly when he finally found his voice

“Jeff, that is NOT cool.” One of the older boy's friends finally spoke, apparently coming to the same conclusion as Howell and agreeing with it.

“SHUT UP!” Jeff Malcomson glared at his friend, before turning back to Howell. “I DON'T like your stupid sister! She's a frigid, cold-hearted, ice-princess who orders the sun and moon to revolve around her! She walks around and wraps men around her finger, then drops them like yesterday's garbage when she doesn't have any more use for them!”

Howell bristled at the older boy's words. Of course he thought the same way about his sister's bossiness, and he also made more than a dozen cracks about her pickiness with her past suitors. It was their fault following her around like disgusting, sick puppies anyway. But Jeff Malcomson had no right to talk about Megan that way… and in that mocking tone of his to boot!

“Don't insult my sister! You don't know anything about her!” Howell growled as he clenched his fingers into fists. If he wasn't so preoccupied with his anger, he probably would have noticed a sudden change in the air around him. Even Jeff Malcomson's friends sensed it, causing all three boys to move instinctively away.

“Oh, I know a lot of things,” Jeff Malcomson sneered. Unlike his friends, he simply saw the strange shift as another opportunity to rile up the younger boy. He simply continued on, seeing how mere invectives about Megan caused Howell to react more than all the previous physical torments he put on the younger boy in the past.

He strode forward nonchalantly until he towered over the smaller boy. “Your sister goes around acting like proper and righteous Miss Perfect, and made everyone believe she's the reincarnation of the Virgin Mary. Nobody dares to talk about it, out of respect for Ma'am Jenkins. But everyone knows the only reason your frigid sister finally agreed to marry Gareth Parry was because Parry managed to get between her legs.”

With just those words, something inside Howell snapped. His righteous anger exploded into all-consuming fury. Before he realized what he was doing, he jumped onto his feet and swung at the older boy, catching Jeff Malcomson square on the nose. The bigger boy stumbled backwards and fell awkwardly, an expression of complete bewilderment on his face. Unfortunately, the other boys acted before Howell could follow-up his action..

Within a blink of an eye, two of the boys grabbed him from behind. But Howell struggled and kicked like a cat being forced into a bag that the boys had no choice but to roughly pin the younger boy on the ground. Howell's left temple hit the wooden planks with a loud thud, stunning him and causing the world to spin wildly around him. By the time the world shifted back in focus, he only had enough time to see an angry Jeff Malcomson towering over him, rearing one leg towards his face as if the older boy was about to give a rugby ball a swift kick. Howell instinctively closed his eye and tensed helplessly against his captors.

“Jesus Jeff! Are you trying to kill him?!” one of Jeff Malcomson's friends, the one who wasn't helping pin Howell down, suddenly yelled. “You said we were just going to humiliate him and scare him a little.”

“The little shit hit me!” Howell heard Jeff Malcomson shriek angrily in reply. “Let go so I can teach that punk a lesson!”

“The hell you are!” the other boy retorted angrily. “What are you two idiots doing? Let go of the brat and help me here!”

Howell instantly felt the pressure holding down his body release as his captors let go, scrambling to help their friend. Howell tried to get on his feet to run, but when he tried to open his eyes, the world suddenly tilted dangerously to one side. He swore again under his breath.

Howell cautiously opened his eyes then gasped in surprise at the images in front of him. In the near distance, the older boys were still struggling and arguing against a screaming Jeff Malcomson, Howell a forgotten afterthought. But what bewildered him was how everything else around them changed.

The landscape turned strange, dotted with pulsing golden lines and fissures in a dull glow. But the Devil's Footprint was the oddest sight of all. Right before him was a strange golden pattern etched on the wood, pulsing rhythmically like a heart beat. The strange energy, which now felt stronger as his hands rested within the pattern on the wood, seemed to throb in time with his own heart.

“I must have hit my head harder than I thought,” Howell murmured softly.

“The hell!?!” The boy who helped Howell suddenly yelled.

Howell looked up to face him, only to confirm that the rumours about Jeff Malcomson's prowess as an athlete were not exaggerated. Not only did Jeff Malcomson look as if he was ready to kill the smaller boy, his three friends seemed as if they were in the losing end of a battle with a bear.

“Are you some kind of retard, kid? Get out of here!” the boy yelled crossly. He was about to say something else, but Jeff Malcomson's knuckles got free, then silenced and stunned the other boy before he could do anything else. Upon seeing him fall, Jeff Malcomson's other friends, finally let go in their terror. Howell could only watch the older boy's intimidating bulk quickly advancing towards him like a sixteen-wheeler-truck.

Howell's heart raced… and odder still, so did the pulsation of the pattern on the ground. In fact, the dull glow of the patterns on the ground seemed to shine a brighter with each succeeding throb. Yet despite the strange occurrence, it didn't seem like Jeff Malcomson or his friends were even noticing the weirdness of what was happening. This only made Howell even more anxious.

By the time Jeff Malcomson's burly arms had him within reach, streams of blinding golden rays filtered through the cracks and fissures on the ground, forcing Howell to cringe and close his eyes. All the while, the only thing that went through Howell's mind was a very strong desire to be somewhere, ANYWHERE, else than where he was.

A loud cracking noise tore the air just above his head like a clap of thunder, deafening him. It was then followed by a strong gust of sweltering wind that attacked him at all directions. Howell opened his mouth to let out a scream of pain as the air burned his skin, only to find himself choke and gasp painfully as the smouldering air invaded his throat and lungs. From a distance, he thought he heard Jeff Malcomson and the older boy's friends yelling and screaming in horror.

Howell didn't have time to feel smug at the realization that Jeff Malcomson screamed even more like a girl than he did when frightened. The golden light managed to filter through his closed lids and rob his eyes of the protective darkness they hid in, finally robbing the last senses as the world became a silent white landscape.

*******

“…is usually known as a quiet small town. But late this afternoon, the bell atop the local church, that hasn't been rung outside of the Sunday services since the Second World War, rang in alarm as the entire village shuddered at an explosion that occurred in the quarry just outside the town's borders. Emergency crews are still on the scene. It's still undetermined, but it would appear that several local teens were at the site when the explosion happened. Authorities have not yet released their identities or their conditions. The cause of the explosion is still under investigation, but early speculation points to a possible gas leak. There has been an emergency evacuation issued and…”

“That's it,” A man grimly stared intently at the BBC broadcast in front of him.

The young woman sitting beside him let out a sigh as she pushed her spectacles up her nose. “Just leave it to the media to make things even more complicated than it is.”

“It's never simple,” The man replied in the same manner before turning to his companion. “Are you sure you'll be okay on your own?”

“I'll be fine. Stop worrying,” The young woman replied, looking a little miffed. “If it'll make you feel better, I'll drag Nick along with me. He needs something to stop him from moping over that girlfriend of…”

“I can hear you, you know. I'm NOT moping,” A third voice called out from another room. “And she's NOT my girlfriend!”

“Besides, Will needs your help more fixing the damage over on his side,” The young woman continued on. “I can handle it.”

The man let out a sigh.

“I'm ready!” The young woman protested indignantly.

“Alright!” The man replied throwing out his arms in defeat, before turning to his companion with a serious look. “I'll try to get to you as fast as I can if you'll ever need help. Nonetheless, I still want you go to her.”

The young woman frowned.

“Now don't you be difficult. She can help you!” The man interrupted before the young woman could verbalize her objection. “Knowing her, she won't follow the evacuation orders so she will be in the area.”

“She eluded the former Emperor's search parties all this time, what makes you think that her Ladyship will allow herself to be found this time?” The young woman argued.

“Because that seal was part of her self-imposed geas,” The man replied in a patient tone. “Something or someone was powerful enough to break through that seal and ripple through nodes in several worlds along with it. If there is indeed a person responsible for that, she will want herself to be found.”

“Yeah, I'm sure I can just mosey into town and conveniently find someone who will answer to the name Lady Sedrenia,” The young woman asked sarcastically

“Rumour has it that she married a local man years ago and goes by the name Jenkins now,” The man answered, ignoring the young woman's tone

The young woman raised an eyebrow as she gave her partner a condescending look. “Do you have any idea how many Jenkinses there are in Wales?”

“But you're not searching in all of Wales,” The man countered, before breaking into a worried smile as he reached out to caress the young woman's cheek. “Maree, are you sure you're still up to this?”

The young woman snorted as she took her partners hand and twined her fingers with his. “You worry too much, Rupert.”

 

End of Chapter Four
To be continued.

Disclaimer: “Howl's Moving Castle”, “Deep Secret”, “The Merlin Conspiracy” and all its characters belong to Diana Wynne Jones.

****

Author's squawk:

I didn't want to spoil the last bit too fast so I put the disclaimer at the end. ^_^. Yep, the last part of this chapter is actually an intro to chapter 5.

I finished this chapter around a month ago, actually. And the lovely Sunoko once again did a great job beta-ing for me. But it took me so long to post it because I was agonizing about the next chapter. I didn't want to break the rhythm of the story and suddenly pull away from Howl's POV. I considered just plodding straight right to what is now Chapter 6 and making what is Chapter 5 a side story. But it won't make a lot of sense if I suddenly did that. I didn't want people to miss what was going to be in Chapter 5, and if I made it into a side story, those not following this story may pretty much miss it altogether. Essentially, Chapter 5 is going to be a chapter-long introduction to Chapter 6 if I followed this route. So after much thought, I decided to go towards this direction. Though it feels really weird because of the sudden shift...

“Deep Secret” and “Howl's Moving Castle” has two completely different storytelling atmospheres around them. But Maree is essential to this particular part of the story, and this part will actually show the connection between this fic and my other Howl's Moving Castle fic: “Of Angels, Demons and Wickedness”. If you haven't figured it out by now, all the HMC fic I have written is following the same time line and is connected in some way or other. ^_^. Hopefully, Chapter 5 will be interesting enough… its going shed a lot of light over Howl's parents back story. I always wanted to find a way to write more about Howl's Mom, especially. ^_^. I developed an interesting back story about her and I couldn't find the opportunity to put it in. It's probably going to spill over a bit to Chapter 6 as well…

Ah… I think that's all the possible spoilers I will give for now. ^_^.

Comments, criticisms, flame throwers… click the review button please! ^_^.

Ja!
Ina-chan