The south-headed train running through the small town of Market Chipping blew its deep whistle, belching dark smoke into the clear blue sky. It passed beneath the small town bridge and caused pedestrians to scatter, shaking the window of the old Cobbler shop. Inside, Walter tugged a lace through another hole along the tongue of the shoe he was working on. The chatter of the other boys working in the shop floated in from the other room and his thoughts were interrupted by a rap on the open door.
"Walter?" Ben called in. "We just closed up the shop. You've been working all day, and the boys and I were going to go for a drink. You should come."
Walter shook his head. "No, I have to finish this," he said, holding up the shoe he was currently lacing. "You go have fun, though."
Ben shrugged. "Well, suit yourself. Come on guys, lets go," he said as he walked away. Walter shook his head and went back to pulling through the thin straps of leather. Outside his room he could hear the rest of them getting ready to leave.
Just before the boys were to head out the door, someone called out, "Look! It's Bay's Castle!" A small cry went up and the whole group came running back inside, trying to catch a glimpse of the Witch Bay's Moving Castle. Curious, Walter leaned forward to look out his front window towards the hills that the boys were pointing at. And there, a tiny speck in the distance, was the giant mass of rooms, boilers and engines piled onto the four skinny little legs that held up the giant Moving Castle. It was a wonder anyone could call it that. It just looked like a mess to Walter.
As it faded into the fog, Walter could hear Ben calling the others. "Alright, it's gone. Now come on." Reluctantly, the boys tore their eyes from the windowsill and picked back up on their usual chatter.
"Did you hear what happened to that guard in North Haven?" one of them said to the other. "I heard Bay charmed him over a cup of tea before literally ripping his heart out!"
"I'm not sure I want to go out now with her so close," said their youngest apprentice.
"Don't worry, she only hunts out the brave ones," one of the older boys teased. They all burst out laughing at the apprentice's pitiful attempt at a playful punch in the arm as they all headed outside, the door shutting behind them.
Walter sighed and finished tying a knot in the shoes before setting them next to the rest of the loafers he had finished that day. He hopped down from his stool, brushing off his trousers and untying his apron. He set it aside and gave his new vest a tug over his white shirt before grabbing the keys and heading towards the door. Once outside he quickly crossed the busy street and managed to get one of the last spots on the trolley headed downtown. Admittedly, he was hanging off the edge of the stairs, but it was better than walking.
Downtown was a mess. A stream of tanks were headed off to the war, their loyal soldiers marching in formation right behind. The large crowds seeing them off cheered and threw confetti at the ranks, hats flying and flags waving. Walter managed to avoid most of the havoc but had to take many back alleys. The occasional employee spent their break out here, but most people were at the parade. Walter checked the small map from his pocket and took a right at the next fork he came to.
This part of the alleys seemed mostly deserted, so Walter was surprised at the sight of two young women in flouncy dresses smoking cigars on empty wooden crates. He looked back down to avoid meeting their gaze, but immediately knew there was no ignoring it when one of the said, "Oh, look, this one's lost," to the other.
Walter kept his eyes on the paper, but was forced to look up when they stood and blocked his path. "Excuse me," he mumbled, staring at the ground.
"Oh, come on, let's see those pretty brown eyes." A long red nail tilted his chin up and forced him to look. The first woman was in a daring shin-length blue dress and had hair piled up on her head, her make-up large and dramatic. But it was nothing compared to the other's. Her outfit was a similar style, but in a deep red. Her hair was also on her head. But along her right eye her eyeliner had winged out and swooped down to create a bright winged bird along the apple of her cheek. It was too dramatic, Walter thought, calling for too much attention.
Walter pulled his head away from her hand and returned to looking at the ground. "Please, I'm just going to see my brother," he mumbled.
The girls ignored him, turning to each other. "Well, he is rather scrawny," said the one in blue.
"Yes, but he's all right," said the other. She moved her head closer to Walter's face, giving him a clear view of her exuberant make-up. He took a step back.
"You see?" the first said with a smile. "Your make-up scares off all the boys."
"No matter, I like him better when he's scared," said the second, tilting her face to give him a better look.
"There you are, darling," said another female voice, causing the two girls to look up. Walter felt an arm slide through his, forcing him to lift his elbow a few inches. "Sorry I'm late, I've been looking everywhere for you."
Walter cast a glance in the direction of the new comer. She was wearing well-fitting black slacks, highly unusual for a woman, and tall boots that gave a small click when she walked. He felt a sleeve brush his back, but her arm was in his, her pink and blue patterned jacket hanging from her shoulders. "Hey, we're busy here," one of the women said, suddenly catty.
"Oh, really?" the stranger said sweetly. "It looked like you were just leaving." With her arm still in his, she gave a flick of her finger. The two women suddenly straightened with a small cry before turning around and deftly walking back into the shop they had come from, giving out yells of protest.
"Don't hold it against them," the woman at his arm said. "They're really not all that bad." Walter finally looked at her face. Her choppy, unorthodox blond hair brushed her shoulders, and a few loose bangs fell in front of her incredible blue eyes. She was shorter than he was, but her confident, straight back and high head in comparison to his usual slouch made it hard to tell. She looked at him. "Do me a favor and be my escort for this evening?" she asked pleasantly. Walter felt himself nod, unsure of what else to do, and together they set off down the alley.
"Uh," Walter started, then cleared his throat. "Where are you headed?"
"Oh, no where in particular," she said, seemingly oblivious that she had just asked him to join her. "What about you?"
"Er, just the local pub," Walter said.
"Mm," the woman said, sounding uninterested. She took a moment to look curiously at the sky and surrounding buildings. After a moment she returned her gaze to the path in front of them, addressing Walter. "Don't be alarmed, but I am being followed," she said casually. "Just act natural." Walter did just the opposite, his eyes widening. "Oh, no need for that," she said, seeming to read his thoughts. "You shouldn't get involved."
Walter relaxed ever so slightly, but only for a moment. A squelching noise began to come from the walls behind them, and he caught a glimpse of something that looked a lot like a large black blob wearing a hat appear from the wall.
"Sorry, looks like you got involved," the woman said with a sigh. Walter stiffened but kept walking as the dark masses emerged from the bricks around them. They started to ooze from the walls in front of them, sealing them in. The woman made a sharp turn and pulled him into a piece of the alley he hadn't noticed until then. "This way," she said.
She kept a grip on his arm, dragging him at a fast pace through the back streets of the noisy town. Behind them Walter could hear the monstrosities following, gaining more and more speed as they went. Once again, more grotesque creatures began to melt away from the walls in front of them, closing off their exit. And this time, Walter was certain there were no other side alleys. They were trapped.
"Hold on!" the woman shouted, grabbing Walter on both sides of his shoulders. Walter was taken aback when he saw her smiling, her eyes sparkling with excitement. All at once, he realized who she was.
Just as the things were about to reach them, closing in on both sides, together they leaped into the air, Bay's magic carrying them far higher than any normal jump. Soon they were high above the rooftops, the dark blobs tiny beneath them. Bay took both of his hands in her's and said into his ear, "Just straighten your legs, and start walking." Walter did as he was told, stretching out his legs from their folded position at his chest. Slowly at first, then to a normal pace, he and Bay began walking in sync, right foot to left, back and forth.
"See?" Bay said next to his head. "It's not so bad, is it?"
Together they floated over the enormous crowd, and Walter marveled at the sight. Couples dressed in vibrant colors twirled and danced throughout the square, flags waving and music playing. He could hear Bay laughing softly as they flew. "You're a natural," she said, her breath whispering through his hair.
Below them, the people were too absorbed in their own festivities to look up and see the sight. Walter wondered what it must look like from down there. The Witch of the Great Moving Castle teaching a scrawny little scarecrow like him how to fly over crowds of people, and blob monsters beyond his imagination. What a sight it would be if anyone had the interest to look up.
As they neared the balcony of his brother's pub , Bay's feet touched down softly on the railing, and she gently swung Walter around and set him down on his feet. "I'll draw them off," she said with a charming smile. "But you might want to wait a bit before you head back outside."
"Alright," Walter felt himself say, almost like he was under some spell. Knowing Bay for the witch she was, he very well could be.
"That's my boy," she said, letting go off his hand and stepping back into the air. She blew him a kiss, and with a wink, fell down and into the crowd far below. Walter gasped and ran to the railing, looking down into the mass of people. But Bay's shoulder-riding blue and pink jacket was no where to be found.
Downstairs, Lannie's shop was just as busy as the crowds outside. Lannie himself was sitting with his feet on a table and surrounded by friends and girls. One of bartenders made their way through the throng and whispered something in Lannie's ear. He gasped and swung his feet off the table. "He what?" he asked, obviously shocked.
A moment later Lannie was tromping up the stairs to the balcony, where Walter was looking out into the crowds. "Walter!" Lannie called, rushing to him and grabbing his shoulders. "Walter, what's going on? Someone told me you just floated down onto our balcony!"
"So that really did happen," Walter said with a sigh. "It wasn't just a dream."
The pub's fund manager poked her head into the hallway. "Lannie, you can use my office if you need to," she offered.
"No, I should really get back down there," he said breezily, giving her a wave. "Thank you though."
The girl blushed and nodded before retreating out of the hallway.
A few moments later they found some privacy tucked in a corner of a room that seemed to be made entirely made of stacked wooden boxes. Walter had just finished relaying his tale to Lannie. "Well it must have been Bay then," Lannie concluded.
"But she was so kind and understanding," Walter said. "She rescued me from those awful things, Lannie."
"Of course she did, you daffty!" Lannie exclaimed. "She was trying to get your heart! You're lucky she didn't eat it!"
"Oh, she wouldn't do that," Walter said solemnly. "She only does that to brave boys. I'm far from that."
"Oh, get off it!" Lannie said, waving a hand at him. "You've got to be more careful about that. Even the Wizard of the Wasteland is back on the hunt for 'beautiful girls'." Lannie paused a moment before looking back at Walter. "Are you listening?!"
"Hm?" Walter said, miffed at being pulled out of his thoughts for the second time today. Lannie huffed.
One of Lannie's hostesses stuck her head in through the doorway. "Lannie, that new shipment of whiskey just came in. What would you like me to do with them?" she asked.
"Oh, give them to Charlie, he's running low," Lannie said to her. "And could you grab a few for James, too?"
"No problem," the hostess said, then retreated to the bar, blushing. It seemed all of the women that worked for Lannie did that.
Walter sighed. "Well, I better get going then," he said, standing up. "I just wanted to check in with you."
Together they headed outside and into the shipment yard. Lannie grabbed Walter's arm before he could leave. "Walter, are you really sure you want to stay in that dusty old cobbler shop and spend the rest of your life making shoes?" he asked.
Walter paused for a moment. "The shop was just so important to Uncle Francis. And I'm the oldest, I don't mind keeping it open."
"I'm not asking you what Uncle Francis would have wanted," Lannie shook his head. "I'm asking what you want."
"Well..." Walter started, but one of the loading men called out to Lannie before he could finish.
"See you later, Lannie!" he called, waving.
"Good to see you again," Lannie shouted, returning the wave.
"I should be leaving," Walter said, stepping away from Lannie.
"It's your life, Walter, do something for yourself, won't you?" Lannie called out to his brother.
"Bye, Lannie," Walter avoided the question as he walked away.
As Walter made his way towards the trolley stop, a small, one person carriage was concealed behind a large building. The door in the front opened a crack, and a small cream pot was set onto the pavement. A tiny cane opened the lid and gave it a tap, and little squicks of the blob men that had followed Walter and Bay began to come out of the pavers and collect in it. Once the pot was full, the cane closed the lid and brought it back into the carriage, the door shutting. From inside a sharp rap came, and two more henchmen standing in the front and back, picked up the carriage by the handles and walked it through the back alleys.
All this was completely unknown to Walter, who had caught the trolley on the same spot he had last time; hanging off the edge of the stairs. By the time he got home, the sun had set and the streetlights had been lit. Walter fished the keys out of his pocket and unlocked the door to the Cobbler shop. Once inside, he re-locked it and lit one of the oil lamps on the desk. He picked up a pair of un-finished shoes and was about to take them to the back when the sound of the door ringing made him look up.
Standing in front of the now closed door was a very fat man in a thick cloak and a suit that had to be custom made to fit his enormous stomach. His chest and neck all blended into another, they were so large. His face was covered, half by his dark goatee and the other by a large bowler hat that sat on his giant head. Walter set down the shoes.
"I'm sorry sir, we're closed," he said.
The man paid no heed to Walter, only stepped forward and began to examine the shop with an air of distaste. "What a tacky shop," he said, looking at their selection of boots. "I've never seen such tacky little shoes." The man looked at Walter with the same smug repulsion. "Yet you are by far the tackiest thing here."
Walter, taking offence to this, straightened his shoulders. "I'm sorry sir, I'm going to have to ask you to leave." He made his way past the giant man, who followed him with his eyes, and opened the door for him. "The exit is this way, sir."
The man turned and looked at him with a grim smile. "Standing up to the Wizard of the Wasteland. Now that's plucky."
"The Wizard of the Wasteland!" Walter gasped, and suddenly the Wizards two henchmen appeared in front of the door, blocking his way out.
The Wizard suddenly began to fly towards Walter, arms spread out, softly cackling. He past through him like a ghost, sending a sharp chill through Walter's body. He doubled over at the sudden pain in his gut. The Wizard stepped outside. "The best part about that spell is that you can't tell anyone about it," he said slyly. "My deepest regards to Bay." And with that, all three were gone, the door shutting behind them.
Walter, meanwhile, slowly unfolded himself, the pain in his gut gone. He looked around the shop, but to his confusion, could not find anything different about it. He looked all around the room, but to no avail. Everything seemed normal. Slowly, he began to shuffle towards the back. He felt awfully weak, and his slouch seemed more exaggerated than usual. But maybe having someone pass through you was an excuse for that.
That's when he moved by the mirror.
Walter stopped and stared at his reflection. It was impossible. That couldn't be him. Slowly, he turned towards it and blinked.
The old man in the mirror did the same thing.
Walter gasped and touched his face. The skin along his cheeks and beneath his eyes sagged, and he had wrinkles everywhere. He was short, shorter than he had been in the first place. His hair had turned a startling silver-white, and his hands were ancient and gnarled. He looked back into the mirror. "That's actually me, isn't it?!" he exclaimed.
He started to walk towards the back of the shop again, but changed his mind and turned back. He decided to head back outside, mumbling to himself the whole time. "No need to panic, just keep a cool head Walter, just keep a cool head." In the cool evening air of the courtyard he began to pace back and forth, back and forth, back and forth...