A.N.: I'm sorry it took so long to finally finish this chapter even though I promised most of my reviewers tht it would have been out soon. I'm really sorry, but some of you know how I was handicapped. I also apologize beforehand if you get confused with some sentences. I used my dictionary and sometimes it spit out odd words and words combination.
Last time:
How her words and laughter at him had stung, how shock and betrayal had crashed him, left him as a wrack and how he still yearned for her touch, her smooth spoken words, a simple praise… he missed her dearly and even now only thinking her synonym sent Goosebumps down his body and cold sweat broke out. She had been so powerful…
The Witch of the Waste…
Chapter Ten: Uncertain Future
Martha's head felt like it would explode any minute now. It throbbed and ached and stung and simply hurt. So many thoughts, emotions and voices were swirling inside her head, demanding her attention, cycling each other and screaming at the rest to overpower them. Howl, Calcifer and Michael having a heated discussion in their magical jargon, throwing ancient words like sharp blades to their left (preferable at her head) and retorting them back as eighteen ton wheeler (preferable on her mind) to their right. It was driving her nuts! Either her head exploded like she darkly predicted or she was going to scream her soul out of her body. She rubbed her temples in a futile attempt to will her growing headache away (and to overpower her rising tempering to slice their throats open and rip all of their vocal chords out of their remaining maw…).
And Sophie had once said that the three of them were now like a church chore. She didn't even want to know how they had been back then when Howl was like a busy bee flowing from one flower to another (Sophie would grumble this under her breath from time to time with anger flashing eyes) or like a first class manwhore in the famoust/notoriest brothel known to femalkind (Martha would say straight out with a deadpan face. She had gotten a slap to the back of her head and a threat to get that mouth of her washed with Sophie's special weed killer if she ever dared to take such words into her mouth again for that). A shiver ran down her spine at that thought alone.
But it was so tempting to make them mute for a little while. Just for a little while. Lovely Silence. Only a slice of silence would do wonder. Just a wheezy bit….
From one second to the other the atmosphere in the room changed. Fear raced the spine of both men, and, surprisingly Calcifer's back too, down, while a big lump formed itself in the back of their throats, making them unable to swallow and cold dread settled into their stomachs like heavy stones. Sweat broke out as they slowly, unwillingly, but with a need as if their lives depended on it (and it kind of did), turned to face Martha, who was rubbing her head like there was no tomorrow, with closed eyes and a frown engraved on her pretty face. Everyone's eyes grew to the size of sausages while panic settled into their faces, minds and the very being of every male inside this room at the sight unfolded in front of the endangered specimen. She looked as if she was contemplating murder and ready to strike.
She did…
°`~*o*~´°
Mr. Smith was never known for his patience. He had many treats and talents, but this virtue was not his to possess. He would have thought after so many weeks that this whore he brought under his possession would finally succumb, but no, her spirit to fight remained unbroken. And she was still holding onto that childish hope someone (preferable Howl) would save her someday. Not that she was talking so much, in fact, she was remaining mute the whole time except when he made her scream out in pain, but her eyes were telling a whole other things. Yes, eyes were truly the windows to the soul. In there lay her will fire and her hopes of rescue. Absolute not if he could prevent it and he had the power to do so.
Which brought his train of thoughts to another issue that hasn't been dealt with to his expectations. Pendragon was still at large and so forth there was no end in sight. He had disappeared of the face of earth and had yet to crawl out of whichever dirty hole he was hiding in. Phh. Typical Pendragon. Something like that was to be expected by the likes of such cowards. But it still astonished him that this fool hadn't tried harder to get his supposed beloved one back. It almost seemed as if he didn't want her back. Maybe it was as simple as that. Because it sure as hell looked as if the girl was one of the many who fell pray to his charming looks and lying, smooth words and now the playboy was moving onto his next victim. Though the length of time they were considered 'together' was impressively, but the may have been an exception. He probably kept her around for so long only because of her tidiness. Yes, that had to be it.
Maybe he should do the same and move on to the next object of interest. Since his wife's body refused to get pregnant. She was after all around the same age as himself. A younger model should do it then. But where to look for, where to look? But wait… what was the name of the youngest Hatter daughter? Wasn't it Mary? Molly? Something wit a M at least. A little bit too young for him now, but it would look differently in one or two years. And meanwhile he could educate her in the right way. But she was out of his reach for now and he still had his current wife to deal with. It was all too frustrating. So many problems everywhere. Where to begin, where to begin? And so little time. Always too little time…
°`~*o*~´°
Only a slice of a crescent was showing itself in this night, while the stars seemed to dimmer their light. It seemed as though they all knew how important this night's darkness was for the safety of Sophie and Howl. Or so it looked at least to the magician. His thoughts drifted back to this morning while he was flying in almost complete blackness. He would have smiled at his memory if his current wasn't so grave. Martha sure as hell was Sophie's sister. She was growing up into a fine young woman. If Michael didn't watch out, he would have a mini version of Sophie on his hands in the near future. Just because she didn't got such an unique talent like Sophie or wasn't properly educated in the arts of witchcraft like Lettie meant she should be underestimated. This deadly, dark aura that was emitting around her was too much alike Sophie's to be ignored. (As if such a thing alone could be ignored) If they all hadn't intervened there would have been a massacre. A bloody, gruesome massacre. À la Sophie plus temper and born-out-of-Howl's-cockiness-induced-anger and special weed-killer equal Armageddon. There was no denying whose sister she was.
A gently tuck at his wrist brought him back from his musings. A thin, blue string-like glow wrapped loosely around his arm, disappearing into the night. It tugged and tugged him directly to the source of its very own substance. Howl was thankful for his black feathers, for they allowed him to blend in perfectly into this dark night. And since he was flying alone he did not have to worry about the others being seen or being held back by their speed (let alone about their safety).
Though Calcifer, Michael and Martha all argued against leaving him alone to fight against Keyl, he won the heated discussion. He might have needed Calcifer as his friend and partner and for addition of magical power, but Michael would need him more if Howl was not coming back. Even though Howl had taught him well, Michael was still not at the level he had to have to protect Martha, the household and himself. And the slightly elder magician would not have been able to concentrate to the fullest at the battle ahead of him if the others would have gone with him. Besides, Sophie would not have liked it, if any of the male beings brought her baby sister with them (and let's face it, if Calcifer and Michael wouldn't be keeping a sharp eye at her in this very moment, she would have climbed out of a window by now and tried to follow Howl to wherever Sophie was being held captive. To be on the safe side he placed a lock-in spell onto the house for a full day). But even with all of these facts, it still left a bitter taste inside their mouths at the thought that this was very likely a trap and both Howl and Sophie could be killed tonight. He wasn't sure if he could take on Keyl Smith, but he had to risk it. It was the only way. It was not because of his swear to himself. It was not because of his promise towards Martha, Calcifer and Michael. It was because Sophie was counting on him.
"Hold out, Sophie, I'm finally on my way to you. Whatever may happen tonight, it is of no concern, for we will be together by the end of this dreaded, cursed night in one way or another…"
°`~*o*~´°
Keyl Smith was marching down the hallway to the sealed door with an arrogant, powerful stride and a diabolic smirk plastered on his face, his long cloak fanning behind him. Jenkins was finally on his way and everything fell into place like he predicted it. The only thing left to do was what he had planned for his little pregnant prisoner. And now the time had come to finish what had started all those long years ago…
Last A.N.: Okay, I'm pretty sure, everyone who reads until the end knows by now what I'm always telling ya here, so thanks for reading, especially when you didn't like it. If you are in a really good mood you can write a review, but you must not. And since I wrote until two in the morning I got a brain wave. Next chapter is about the fight and something more, but it won't be the end for how I visioned it last night. There will be two to three more chapters and an epilogue and the it is finally finished. I hope you all will bear with me until then. See ya' next time, fantasyfreak17