A/N

Hey, what do you know! An update!

Serenity-Touched: I love my precious flap-dragon. Thank you for your kind review, I arrow three you forever.

Lantisca: Thank you for your kind words!

Tulcadhiel-Greenleaf: Thank you! I'm so glad you enjoy my take on the Howl universe. Huzzah for cheering you up, that puts a big smile on my face :) And you're so right, there's definitely a time and a place for fluff. I'm not sure I know the time and place, but so far so good, right? Right?

Anyway, I wrote this while looking for and acquiring a new job and planning a Pirates of the Caribbean birthday party for my best friend. So. Let's just say I hope it's good and I didn't black out while writing. Cheers!

Chapter Four: Crossover

"The Nothing", as it turned out, felt like a very specific something. Sophie later decided it felt as if her body were undergoing some horrific disfigurement, being pushed and squeezed through a space that was most definitely not the right size for a woman of average weight and stature. Her bones creaked, her skin stretched, her head pounded so severely she thought it would burst. All the while, her eyes were fixed on blackness so deep she wondered if she had gone blind. This went on for what felt like years until Sophie found herself standing much in the same state that she had been in before she crossed over. The scenery, however, was vastly different. She had left a room full of dirt and eroded stone and entered a room full of extravagance. The walls were quite intact and were made of a rich wood decorated with fine gold; the floor was covered with an intricate rug of deep purples and royal blues, stitched with thin gold thread. She was facing a giant four-poster bed made of the same dark wood with massive curtains that matched the rug tied to each post. The room itself was huge, much larger than the flower shop and castle combined. In fact, Sophie thought bitterly to herself, it was at least ten times the size of any bedroom she ever inhabited. The large area left space for a vanity table, an antique couch underneath the windows, a tea table with cushioned chairs and a writing desk. All the furniture was just as fine and rich as the gold-embellished floor and walls. It was still dark outside in this new world, giving Sophie the relief that she would not have to worry about time differences on top of everything else. The large paned windows were on the South side of the room, to the right of where Sophie stood. They spilled squares of moonlight on the bedspread and the rug. Sophie noted to herself that she saw no still body in the bed, meaning that the room was most likely unused as it was now quite late in the evening. There were no portraits on the wall, as Sophie had hoped, leaving no indication of who might have lived in this room before.

Calcifer was nowhere in sight. Sophie realized with a speeding of her heart that this world may well not have fire demons, making Calcifer a large moving alarm that something was amiss. "Botheration!" Sophie hissed under her breath. "Why must demons be so mischievous?" Then she smiled to herself with the thought that she was equally as mischievous, especially since this excursion had been her idea. Nothing to do but go after the menace, she sighed to herself. Sophie looked longingly at the bed, feeling every ounce of fatigue from seeking out and entering a magical doorway. Before heading to the bedroom door, she thought she ought to check the closet to examine the clothing styles. For all she knew, the women might wear pants, and Sophie had left the castle shop wearing a forest green dress with silver stitching along the cuffs and down the front (Howl had picked it out for her, insisting it brought out her vibrant green eyes and made her red-gold hair "look like an autumn flame". Sophie had rolled her eyes but wore the dress often). She turned away from the four-poster toward the closet. It, too, was massive, holding hundreds of dresses, shoes, coats, capes, and hats (not nearly as fine as the ones Sophie once made). Upon surveying the clothes, Sophie thought these would make her stand out more than her own dress, the fine silks and thick velvets obviously belonging to someone of high status. She wondered briefly what kind of clothing the staff wore, but closed the closet doors without taking another glance through the finery.

The broad hallways were lined with large landscapes and detailed portraits. Sophie squinted to make out the severe faces, but recognized none. The landscapes looked like depictions she had seen in history books, the topography as wild and unused as the Waste. She thought she may have seen an ancient Market Chipping. The buildings were taller, more industrial looking, the thick stone a dark charcoal color rather than the warm tan of her own Market Chipping. Each step seemed to take centuries, the long dark of the hallway stretching into oblivion. More than once Sophie had to suppress the urge to march herself back to the elegant room and hop right back into her own world. I wouldn't be a very brave witch or a very good eldest sister if I turned back now. She had said this to herself each time her stomach tightened at the turn of a corner or a creak in the dark.

Just as Sophie had quite enough of the Never-ending Hallway (what she so fondly labeled it upon retelling her story) she came to an abrupt stop at the entrance of yet another large room. This room had an elaborate chandelier hanging in the middle, more landscapes and portraits lined the walls, and well-crafted wooden tables held tall, intricate vases full of exotic flowers. Calcifer was hovering over the right corner of a wide set of heavy wooden doors.

"Calcifer, you pest of a fire demon! If you ever pull a stunt like that again I will close the windows on every rainy day for the rest of your life!" Sophie said this in what she thought was a stern whisper, but was really a somewhat shrill yell.

Calcifer issued an obstinate look at Sophie where she stood across the room. He hated the rain, and was quite sure no other house in Market Chipping would leave windows open for a stranded fire demon. He was also quite sure Sophie was throwing out an empty threat. But he really hated the rain. "I knew you would catch up" Calcifer tried to say as offhandedly as possible while turning his gaze back to the large wooden doors. "I can't seem to get through these doors".

Sophie, still quite irate, snorted loudly. "So a powerful fire demon can't even open a simple door?" She strolled across the room with a smirk and placed her hand on the smooth gold handle. Unfortunately, the door seemed to have some sort of enchantment on it, which gave Sophie a rather nasty shock while making a loud, clapping sort of noise accompanied by a flash of red light. Sophie thought she heard Calcifer sizzle.

"The door seems to have been enchanted by an even more powerful wizard; I was scanning the area for any gaps in the spell before you decided to burn your hand." Calcifer looked more superior than he normally did, little blue flames flickering out of his eyes.

Sophie scowled as she rubbed her palm. Her hand ached, but she quickly forgot about the pain as she watched in amazement while small red script appeared across her palm. Calcifer looked over with interest as Sophie read the words aloud "Those who wish to fortune make must await 'til morning's break".

"The queen has a sense of humor. But I'm afraid she's no poet."

Sophie and Calcifer shot panicked looks at each other before turning to the source of the voice. When their eyes met, Sophie gasped and Calcifer crackled. It was Michael, only a much more prim, well kept Michael. This young man had the same dark, chestnut hair, the thin build, average height, and olive-toned skin. However, this Michael's hair was neatly trimmed to frame his face while Sophie's Michael had a mop of hair usually carelessly tied with a leather strap. This Michael's clothes were conservative, colored steel grey and made out of something Sophie thought must be extraordinarily itchy. His tunic was of a lighter color than the rest of his wardrobe and had a design of three rings interlocked sewn in the middle. His grey pants looked as if they had been dunked in starch, and his dark grey knee-high boots looked as if they had been made with tar. He also held himself differently than the Michael she knew. He stood taller, as if a piece of plywood were strapped to his back. His face was hard set in a cold expression, though when the pair turned toward him, that expression abruptly changed.

"Milady Sophia?" His voice grew slightly higher, and his bare cheeks reddened. "What are you doing back in the castle? There are guards patrolling every corridor, you could be caught!"

Sophie and Calcifer once again exchanged glances, this time with looks of extreme confusion. Sophie decided to pipe up first while Calcifer gaped at Grey Michael (Calcifer's eventual nickname for this doppelganger).

"Michael? I…" Sophie hesitated. She didn't know how much this Michael knew about alternate universes, wizards, fire demons, magic, or mysterious gateways in space-time, so she didn't quite know how to respond. Revealing herself as not of this particular world might alarm Grey Michael, landing her and Calcifer a quick spot in the castle's dungeon. On the other hand, she was quite sure she needed to leave the castle to find the reason behind Lettie's replacement, and this door was unlikely to budge without his help. "I was just leaving, but seem to have forgotten how to exit the premises." Sophie was satisfied that she had sounded vague enough, but Grey Michael's expression was one of confusion.

"Myk-ull? That is the strangest way I have ever heard you pronounce my name. When did you collect such a strange accent, Milady?"

It was Sophie's turn to gape. She wondered how Grey Michael pronounced his name, how much of a coincidence it was that their doppelgangers knew each other, how her mirror image came to be called "Milady" (and came to have nearly her same name), and how she was supposed to get out of this predicament. At least he seems to be an ally, from the look of this place, that's going to be necessary.

"Uh, I must have picked it up during my absence" Sophie glanced around the large room, now quite tense about a guard popping up at any moment. "Did you say you could unlock the door? I wouldn't want to cause any trouble with those guards".

Grey Michael's expression remained confused but perhaps adopted a side of concern. "The door cannot be unlocked after sundown, just as it was before you were exiled. Did you run into any bad hexes during your travels? Something seems….different."

Now Grey Michael was examining Sophie as if he were looking for hidden script saying "This isn't Sophie, this is an imposter". Sophie resisted the overwhelming urge to squirm, but Grey Michael must have heard something because his expression twisted into panic as he grabbed Sophie's arm.

"We need to get you both out of here now."

He tugged hard on Sophie's arm and began to drag her down a corridor to the left of the wooden double doors, Calcifer closely followed the pair. The trio flew down one dark hallway after another. They seemed to be descending to lower levels of the castle, though Sophie lost track of how many times they went down the stairs, how many times they went back up, and how many twists and turns they took. Eventually they ended in what appeared to be a linen storeroom. Piles of sheets and towels lined the dusty stone walls, Sophie did not envy the people that folded and stacked each one of them in the large room. Most of them looked like they had been there a long while, the top of each pile covered in a thick layer of dust. At the back of the room was a large hearth full of ash. Sophie mused that it must be the receptacle for soiled linen, but her thoughts were interrupted by Grey Michael's breathless voice.

"The castle has many storerooms, this one is mostly unused. You two will have to stay the night here. I'll bring clothes for you in the morning, Milady, we might have a chance of getting you out of here unnoticed. Your friend on the other hand…"

Grey Michael issued a slightly hopeless look toward Calcifer, who, despite himself, looked a little nervous. Sophie could always tell when Calcifer was truly worried, his blue flames grew smaller, making him look like a small ball rather than a burning demon.

"Well, we shall just have to make due." Grey Michael turned to leave, but paused at the doorway, "Oh, Milady? It's pronounced Markl. If anyone hears you call me Myk-ull, they will notice who you are."

He vanished before Sophie could say thank you, or before she could ask why he had helped her, when she clearly was not the Right Sophie. She glanced up at Calcifer who looked as puzzled as she felt. He also looked grumpy. Though fire demons don't sleep in the same manner that humans do, they get cranky when they lose energy. Sophie nodded toward the grate.

"Might as well get some sleep, Calcifer, we're clearly not getting out of here tonight".

Calcifer crackled, told Sophie goodnight, and floated over to the grate where he turned into a ball of ember. Sophie cast a look around the room, trying to determine which pile of old sheets looked the most comfortable. She settled on two piles stacked side-by-side, forming the closest thing to a bed she would get for her entire journey. Despite her growling stomach and face full of dust, Sophie fell into unconsciousness.