Chapter 3.

''What are you doing here, Mother?'' Sophie asked angrily, staring at the women who had sold them out to Madam Suliman. She hadn't seen much of her mother over the past five years, only in passing as her mother lived her new married life with her husband. Sophie didn't even know the man's name.

''I just had to see you my dear.'' Her mother replied, looking somewhat hopeful, though her eyes betrayed the hurt she felt at Sophie's response. ''I can't keep going on like this, pretending I don't see you when we pass each other, knowing how much you must hate me.'' Her eyes brimmed with tears, but Sophie knew well how her mother could turn the tears on and off like a tap.

''You had a nerve to come today, of all days.'' Sophie almost growled. ''You must know what today is.'' Even if she hadn't heard, she could tell by what Sophie was wearing. She was wearing a plain black dress with long sleeves and a few layers under her skirt to give it more shape.

Her mother appraised the dress down and up, a faint blush rising up her cheeks. ''I had heard the witch of the waste had died, but I didn't know her funeral was today.''

''Well, now you do.'' Sophie replied shortly, slamming the castles door behind her and locking it whilst facing it. ''Leave us alone.'' She pushed past her mother, but her mother swiftly caught her out stretched wrist.

'' Sophie, please hear me out.'' Her mother pleaded, but was cut short by Markl, who had come up in front of Sophie, and was staring at the woman who he remembered calling 'a strange woman' when he'd last seen her at age eight. At thirteen, he was a lot taller, and his voice was just about breaking when he looked at Sophie.

''Everything's ready, Sophie.'' Sophie nodded slightly, looking back at her Mother with some loathing, but tears were silently falling down her face.

''Leave us be.'' Sophie whispered, pulling her hand out of her mother's grasp and storming away. A strained silence was left behind, Markl coughed slightly before following Sophie, running slightly to keep up with her. Markl was still shorter then Sophie and Sophie was a fast walker when angered.

Sophie's mother stared after her young daughter, stuck to the spot. Fresh tears fell down her face, but these were real. Never before had any of her children stood up to her or not given her what she wanted. She had grown up in a privileged background; her father's little princess Honey. She even had her third husband at her beck and call, and it was certainly the longest relationship she'd maintained since the death of her first husband, and father of her children, had died in an almost forgotten war.

Whilst Honey decided what her next step should be, Sophie marched onwards through the town towards the funeral home, with Markl close behind. It'd only been two days since Granny's death, but they'd wanted to send Granny off as soon as possible. Though she'd given her mother the impression it was her funeral, it was really a cremation. They didn't want to be leaving her in a far flung town, in a place they wouldn't to visit again, it being the place of her death. Time and distance usually caused people to slowly stop visits.

The town's funeral home doubled up as a small chapel and crematorium. It took her only a few minutes from the castle to the door of the funeral home. Howl was waiting outside with Heen, who hadn't left one of their sides since Granny's death. Howl noticed Sophie's angry expression, and gave a look of question.

''Mother.'' She replied shortly, not wanting to take her anger out on Howl, but couldn't help a note of irritation in her voice coming out. Howl took her hand gently and held it. Sophie responded by holding his hand back fiercely. Howl traced her cheek softly, and her angry expression softened to a small smile. Her eyes became wet, though from sadness rather than the anger Howl had known them to be moments before.

''Are you both ready?'' He asked.

''No.'' Sophie replied ''But I know we need to do this.''

''Have you brought him?'' Howl continued to ask. Sophie opened the small bag she'd been carrying and brought out a small stainless steel and heat resistant tin. It had small air holes in it, and larger ones in the top. Sophie twisted the small knob at the top which kept it closed and pulled it off. Inside was Calciver, embedded amongst small bits of firewood to keep him going.

''About time you got around to me.'' Calciver said to them haughtily. ''I thought I was going to suffocate in there.'' This brought a small smile to Howl's lips.

''You've never complained before in there.'' Howl replied, raising an eyebrow, ready for the retort.

''Well, get transported in a bag whilst the carrier is banging it around, and see how you like it.'' He shouted back. There was a small amount of laughter at this.

''Even when you're not a fire demon any more, you still act like one.'' Howl said, opening the door to the slightly darker front parlour of the funeral home. They all filed in, Heen slowly bringing up the rear, and Howl quietly closed the door behind them. The funeral parlour gave an aura of needing to be quiet within its walls, very much like within a library, but for a very much different reason.

Calciver quieted down as they crossed the threshold. He had a special job to do. His outburst had been a result of trying to blot out his grief and sadness at the loss of granny. He wasn't a fire demon in the sense he had been, protecting Howl's heart, and the connection that came with it. He was now a fire spirit, a star come fire, and he had started his life as a star soaring the sky. He could now transform between states, being a fire spirit and also a sprite, soaring the skies as he pleased.

A medium built man came into view sombrely, in a black fitted suit and top hat. He stopped in front of the small family, cupped his hands together and placed it in front of his lower stomach.

''You ready?'' He asked. His voice was soft and kind, which had appealed him to them when they'd met him the previous day. Howl looked at Sophie, Markl, Heen and Calciver, before looking back at the man.

''We are.''

They followed the man into the small crematorium chapel area, and sat in the front row whilst the man in the top hat stood at the head of the room, closest to the pyre area. He made a gesture, and six men came up the space in between the chairs. They carried a wicker casket between them, and placed it on a ledge just above them gently. They quickly departed. The funeral director came up to Sophie, and she looked up into his eyes.

''Have you got him?'' He asked softly. Sophie nodded and took out the still opened tin out of her bag. Calciver looked up at the man looming above him and gave him a tight lipped slight smile.

''May I?'' The director asked, holding out his hands. Calciver waited a moment before transforming into his other state that wouldn't be harmful to the man's hands. He hovered ever so slightly over the man's hands and he was lifted out gently.

Calciver was carried over to the wicker casket, and set in front of it. Calciver hovered in front of it, contemplating it. This held the body of the woman, however she'd been in previous years, who had loved without condition. Though she'd almost poisoned him with a black slug, she'd become an amazing woman who taught them much.

Howl, Sophie and Markl, with Heen at their feet, watched Calciver rise up a few inches. He seemed to dance around the casket, sending beams of light through the lid. This went on for a few moments, before a screen was lowered in front of the casket and Calciver. In the last moment, he stopped what he was doing, and made his way onto the other side of the screen, so as to watch what was happening.

The casket went up in flames, but these flames weren't the normal sort of flames. They were blue and green, and seemed to raise a lot higher than normal. They watched in awe as stars seemed to shoot into the air above Granny's casket, and explode into millions of tiny sparkles that rained over the embers. The fire slowly died down, simmering to a slight fire just under what remained of the casket. A curtain came down in front of the screen.