.X.

Sophie had no idea what was happening. One minute she was corporeal and the next she wasn't. She had the oddest sensation—it was almost as if she were wind, blowing through smoke and tearing it, wisp by wisp, apart. This was replaced by an altogether unpleasant feeling, as though she were being spun around and around and around again. Just when she feared she would become ill everything came to a shuddering halt, and she reeled from the suddenness of it. Something kept her from falling, and after a moment of utter confusion she realized that Howl had maintained his firm grip on her hand. She pulled away and a wave of vertigo struck; she closed her eyes tightly and fought very hard to subdue the nausea that had risen even as hands on her arm and back guided her forwards.

"Sit, Sophie." Howl's voice came to her as though from a long distance away. She opened her eyes to find that she was standing in front of a wooden chair. Gratefully and with the wizard's assistance she sank down into it, resting her head in her hands once she was seated as though to control the dizziness that was now assailing her. She concentrated on taking deep, even breaths and tried to ignore the facts that she was no longer home and that she had been magically transported by the most infamous wizard in the land to his residence—the moving castle of which so many tales were told. Panic flickered to life somewhere deep inside of her, but she tamped it down and focused simply on feeling better.

Howl was speaking as though to somebody else, and she caught the last of his sentence, "—becoming harder to do."

A voice answered his, unfamiliar and male, "You won't be able to do it for much longer. If it's as painful as she makes it seem, it's going to be too dangerous soon."

"I know," Howl sighed, and would have said more if Sophie hadn't chosen that moment to lift her head and open her eyes. Her first thought was that the great wizard must be destitute; surely there was no other reason to account for the horrendous state of her surroundings. The floor and walls, both wooden, were covered in layers of dust and grime so thick it made her skin crawl. What was presumably a kitchen table was situated in front of a massive stone hearth; she was surprised the table hadn't buckled under the weight of the large piles of books stacked haphazardly atop it. Other pieces of furniture were strewn haphazardly throughout the rest of the room, looking as though they'd appeared there more by chance than actually having been arranged. There was only one window in the chamber, but the fading sunlight that filtered through the dirt-encrusted pane of glass did a remarkable job of illuminating the interior. Finally, reluctantly, Sophie's eyes made their way to her new "employer", where he was sitting on the lip of the wide hearth.

"Feel better?" He asked, and she couldn't be sure whether the sympathy in his tone was real or not. He seemed to be alone; besides themselves Sophie could had seen no other people in the room. Who then had he been talking to? He was watching her with one eyebrow raised, awaiting an answer, and so she nodded. "A little, yes."

"Good. I apologize; I didn't realize just how rough our travel would be for you."

"For you, too," said the same voice she had heard before, emanating from the right of the wizard. Sophie's gaze followed the direction of the voice and found only fire blazing in amidst a pile of wood in the center of the hearth; it was only a heartbeat later she realized the fire was staring back at her. She was on her feet without realizing she'd moved, and wide-eyed she looked to the wizard. "W-what …?"

"Sophie," Howl said cheerfully as though nothing were out of the ordinary, "I'd like you to meet our resident fire demon, Calcifer."

"Hi, how are you?" the fire said, words issuing forth from a black void that opened and closed from among the flames that was presumably its mouth.

Sophie opened her own mouth, closed it, and opened it again enough to say faintly, "Fine, thank you."

"Ooh, she has manners, which is more than I can say about the last one you brought around—" The fire's sentence was abruptly cut off as the wizard quickly added another stick to the pile of wood it blazed around. Its eyes—very much like human eyes—glared balefully at the wizard as he stood and moved to the table.

"Calcifer is the sole source of power for this castle. He is the one that keeps it moving, and he also keeps it warm and heats the water we use."

"Heat your bathwater, you mean," the fire demon said, having managed to move the wood Howl had added away from its mouth. "Which takes almost as much energy as keeping this place going. I swear you have a fetish with being clean."

"My assistant, Markl, is currently out." Howl continued smoothly, pointedly ignoring Calcifer's remark. "I'll introduce you to him later. Come here, Sophie."

He beckoned her to follow him with one crooked finger, and hesitantly she complied. Her dizziness had fled, perhaps in the wake of her astonishment and uncertainty. When she reached him he took her by the arm and led her to the staircase in the farthest corner of the room. He began to climb them, pausing on the landing to glance down at her where she stood, unmoving and staring up at him with the utmost trepidation. "Sophie? Is something the matter?"

Yes! –she wanted to scream. Everything was the matter—she was here, in a castle that didn't look like a castle; she had just conferred however briefly with fire that spoke; she was going to be living here for the duration of the terms of the Favor, in the company of the wizard Howl, who was, according to all the tales, a very wicked man …

"N-no," she finally mumbled, and lifting her skirt with one hand she climbed the stairs after him. He waited until she caught up to him before beginning up the next set, and when they had both reached the second floor he took her arm again and led her down the hall. He stopped before the first door on the left and indicated with a smile that she was to open it. Eyeing him warily, she turned the knob and pushed it open. Nothing jumped out at her and so she crossed the threshold curiously. It was a bedroom—a massive four-poster bed stood in one corner, its hangings made of some sort of sheer blue cloth. There was an armoire in the other corner, its double doors adorned with ornate mirrors. Two large windows were set in the wall between the bed and armoire, and upon further inspection she realized they were in fact doors made almost completely of glass. Beyond them she could see some manner of balcony, and beyond that the scenery was unmistakable—it was that of the Wastes. She jerked her attention back to the room, not wanting to dwell on how very far away from home she was. The walls were colored ivory, and they were bedecked with a myriad of tapestries and paintings. Small tables set in the corners held vases and other assortments of objects. When she was finished her initial observation, Sophie turned uncertainly to the wizard.

"It's your room." he told her in a tone that indicated he thought that much should have been obvious.

"I-I … you shouldn't have gone to so much trouble …" she said, thoroughly at a loss; never in her life had she imagined such surroundings for herself.

"Nonsense! Couldn't very well have you uncomfortable during your stay here." Howl moved past her and strode to stand before the armoire, striking a pose before the mirrors and flashing a brilliant smile at his reflection. "Really, Sophie, what did you expect? That I'd make you sleep in the broom closet?"

She didn't know what she'd expected. From the great wizard Howl, who took and ate the hearts of young girls in order to either remain young or increase his power or whatever reasons they gave him in the tales, she certainly hadn't expected such kindness. She began to feel guilty; aside from enforcing the Favor between them—which was, apparently according to law, his right—he'd done nothing at all to harm her.

Her inner debate had not gone unnoticed; Howl's smile had faded and he was watching her closely through the mirror. "You don't like it?" He asked.

"I do." She said, nodding. To forestall any further questions she asked hastily, "How is it that this room is so much cleaner than the rest of the house?"

"It hasn't had time to get dirty. It's only just been created." He winked at his reflection and turned, brushing past her and catching her arm as he did so, carrying them both out of the room. Once back in the hall he stopped and pointed to the other three doors in the hall. "That's Markl's room. The one next to it is the second floor bathroom, and the one at the end is my room." The door to his room was made of very dark wood, and there were an odd variety of symbols and strange words she could not decipher burned into its surface. He turned to Sophie, and his mood was suddenly very serious. "I will ask you not to enter my room for any reason unless I give you permission. Understood?"

Frightened more by this solemn Howl than she was of his charming, more affable self, Sophie nodded mutely. Instantly his demeanour altered, a mercurial shifting of expressions, until again his face was open and cheerful. He turned them both about and led the way once again down the stairs. Once they were on the first floor Howl released Sophie and swept one arm outwards in a grandiose gesture. "So now you've seen it all—tell me, my dear, what do you think of our humble abode?"

A multitude of answers flitted through Sophie's mind, but she realized that perhaps stating her true feelings wasn't such a wise thing to do when in the company of such a wizard. "Very nice," she said with a smile she hoped was convincing, and added as an afterthought, "and very dirty."

Howl laughed at that. "Indeed! So you agree that you're needed here?"

"Yes," she said, but then said with uncharacteristic fierceness, "But I am not your maid."

It seemed as though her change in tone was something unexpected; she saw the flicker of surprise in his eyes. "So," he said after a moment of speculation, "the little mouse has her teeth."

She opened her mouth in indignation at the title, but he cut her off with the wave of a hand. "I'm afraid I must be going. The evening has only just begun and there is still much to do. If you'll excuse me, Sophie? Please just make yourself comfortable tonight; you can begin your duties in the morning. Calcifer, will you be sure to assist Sophie or answer any questions she may have?"

Though she couldn't be sure, it seemed to Sophie as if the fire demon nodded. Howl smiled, nodded at them both, and quickly descended the stairs in the corner of the room opposite the hearth to where a large door stood. There was a dial attached to the knob, the colors on the dial corresponding to a larger one hung above the door. Howl turned the knob and the dials flicked to black. He did not glance back as he left the house, and so it was that Sophie quite suddenly found herself alone in the renowned moving castle with a talking fire as her only companion. She looked around her hopelessly, feeling then very isolated. After a moment she ventured to ask the fire demon a question. "Where has he gone?"

Calcifer's flames moved and shifted; she had the vague impression he had shrugged. "Beats me. I hardly ever know." The wood he was burning around abruptly crackled, sending up a shower of sparks before collapsing slightly. The fire demon adjusted himself with offshoots of red and orange flame that looked a lot like arms and hands before asking, "Would you mind handing me another piece of wood?"

"Of course," Sophie said, propriety taking over. She moved to the hearth and picked up a slender log before handing it to Calcifer, who reached up and took it from her with limbs that flickered and danced. Once he'd positioned it to his liking, he spoke again. "I'm not supposed to do this …" and he trailed off with a sigh. Sophie waited with a puzzled frown for him to continue, and when he did, he spoke quickly, "Look—Sophie?—you should listen to me. Get out of here. Leave now—I'll help you open the door so you can go back home."

"Why …? The Favor—I owe it to Howl—"

Calcifer made a rude noise, cutting her off. "Forget about the Favor. Just go, get out of here—"

There came the sound of the door opening, and Sophie whirled around expecting to see Howl. Instead it was a young boy, body covered almost entirely by a green cloak, dark haired and dark eyed. As he climbed up the steps his eyes moved from Sophie to Calcifer and then back again. "Who are you?" He asked after a moment.

"Sophie," she said, thinking that this must be Howl's assistant.

"She's here," Calcifer said, and there was an undercurrent of something heavy, something grim, in his voice, "to fulfill the Favor she owes Howl."

"Oh." Said the boy, and there was a finality to that one word that not even Sophie could miss. After another moment he took off his cloak and hung it on a peg near the stairs. "My name is Markl. I'm Howl's assistant. It's nice to meet you."

"Likewise," Sophie said a trifle numbly. The subtle exchange between Markl and Calcifer, while not vocal, was enough that she knew they hid something, and they hid something dark. And what Calcifer had said to her before Markl's arrival—suddenly she had the strongest urge to do as he had told her to do and run headlong from this strange house with its strange inhabitants. But where would she go? The hat shop and her house were no longer havens—Howl knew the location. And if she refused to fulfill the Favor she would be judged a criminal and would be thrown in prison. Her options on either side were not good, and she closed her eyes in sudden, overwhelming despair. She was firmly trapped, and there was no way out.

Markl was moving, rummaging through drawers and cupboards near the table and removing articles of food. Sophie turned back around to find the fire demon regarding her with serious eyes. She said one word, making it an earnest plea, "Calcifer?"

He sighed heavily. "I'm sorry, Sophie. I really am. It's too late now."

She stepped away from the hearth, hands fisted at her sides. Calcifer closed his eyes and appeared to become a normal fire. She stared at him a moment before turning to find that Markl had cleared enough space on the crowded table to set down a plate of cheese and another of bread. He glanced at her, asking, "Are you hungry?"

"No."

He shrugged, sliding down onto a wooden chair and slicing off a hunk of bread with a knife he had found in the midst of the clutter. She opened her mouth to ask him all the things she wanted to ask, but closed it again, knowing he wouldn't tell her. He was, after all, apprentice to the man that had brought her here. "I think I'll retire for the night," she said instead, heading for the staircase.

"Good night," Markl mumbled around a mouth full of bread.

Sophie almost ran up the stairs and to the room that had been designated as her own, opening the door and slamming it behind her. She leaned back against it and released a shuddering breath, willing her heart to cease its pounding. Something was wrong, and that instinctive knowledge had only been compounded by the cryptic words of both the apprentice and the fire demon. What could she do, though, but try to release herself from the bond she had unwittingly entered herself into by uttering a single, careless phrase?

It was a long time later that she moved to the bed and sank down upon it, thinking thoughts both grim and desperate.

.X.

Author's Note: I'm sorry it took me so long to continue this; inspiration left but seems to have returned with the purchase of the movie yesterday. I'm opting to make Markl (Michael) older as he was in the book. I also, through use of the Art of HMC, tried to make the interior of the castle as near the movie as I could (with the exception of Sophie's room, which is entirely my own creation).