It looked absurd, standing up in the middle of the field, opening up into nothing on either side. But here it was, the first part of what Howl promised would be the new castle, a door. Sophie thought it was just like him to make the exit first. That was quite alright however, for the door would allow them to get to Kingsbury together, as Howl had already reinstated the opening at the disused stable on Duke Street before he returned.

Sophie, Marcl and Dubbie were currently standing on the "inside" of the door, watching Howl paint the numbers round the new dial on the molding. She had already watched him do this to the cottage door that very morning. She had asked him why they couldn't just leave through the cottage door to Kingsbury, but he had responded that you need a "real" door, a sort of "home" door to do it, and he didn't want to use the cottage for that purpose.

Calcifer was coming with as well, Marcl currently held a bucket with the fire demon inside, packed with hot coals and ash. Inside Sophie could here him grumbling about the move. However, Calcifer had refused to fly on his own to Kingsbury, and so had resigned himself to this mode of contrivance.

"There, that should do it," Howl said as he retrieved a bit of chalk from his pocket. He then drew a complicated ruin on the surface of the door and placed his hand in the center of it. The lines on the door seemed to glow red for a moment and the air shimmered around Howl. He then stepped back.

"Everyone all packed?" he asked, turning to them, she nodded, as his eyes flickered over her. He smiled and opened the door with a flourish. It was perhaps one of the strangest things she had ever seen! On either side of the door, mountains and rolling valley could be seen, but when you looked through the door, you saw a shady street lined with cobblestones and the gray boards and red brick of the warehouse across the street.

"I think I'm going to be sick looking at that," Sophie muttered.

Howl just laughed at her as Marcl ushered Dubbie through the door. Howl grabbed up his bag and offered his free arm to Sophie. She accepted it gratefully, as doing so allowed her to shut her eyes tightly so that she couldn't see the strange mismatched scenery that she was stepping into. Howl watched the way she screwed up her face as she shut her eyes tightly. Never mind that she had once flown an aero-plane back from Kingsbury to moor outside of Market Chipping, somehow Sophie just couldn't countenance certain things. He found her inconsistency mystifying and charming at the same time. Howl guided her through the doorway, and onto the cobbled streets beyond, closing the door firmly behind them and locking it.

Sophie opened her eyes to find herself transported to the capitol city of Kingsbury on a hot, muggy summer day. Already she could feel the sweat begin to collect on her forehead.

"I forgot how cool it is up in the mountains!" she exclaimed.

Instead of responding to her comment, Howl hissed something under his breath. A single word, "Spy."

Sophie looked around curiously, trying to discern what on earth he could be talking about, when she heard a strange wheezing sound coming from the ground. She looked down to find a small blond mutt, waging its rump and snuffling at her.

"Heen!" she cried, dropping Howls arm and her suitcase as she bent down to hug the odd looking little animal.

The sound of an engine drew their attention to a gleaming car bearing the King's coat of arms.

Turnip Head is certainly not holding back, Howl thought as the vehicle stopped. The driver exited and bowed low to them in one fluid motion, before announcing that their company was desired at court and that he was there to escort them. Sophie nodded to the man, unsure of what to say, and he quickly began stowing their luggage in the trunk of the vehicle.

The inside of the car was even finer than the outside. The seats were upholstered in velvet and the walls were made of oak paneling, inlayed with elaborate designs. Dubbie was beaming, stroking the velvet of the seat with care, muttering a litany of praises for it. The well-appointed nature of the vehicle did nothing to improve the heat, however. It was sweltering inside the cab, especially packed as it was with four of them, plus Heen and Calcifer, who was still silently smoking in his bucket.

Perhaps it was the effect of Calcifer's exhaust and the rising heat, but Sophie suddenly felt exceptionally faint. All of this was a dream, it was too much for her. What did the Prince really want with her? What did he expect? What would she say to him? She was terrified! She found herself thinking that she much preferred the Prince as a puffed up vegetable on a stick to his present fleshy and infinitely more intimidating form.

Sophie sighed, why were things so much harder now that she was young? When she was old she had been fearless, after all, what had she to lose? The first time she journeyed to the palace she had everything to gain, and nothing that anybody wanted from her, at least personally. She feared what might be wanted from her now. Was the Prince really foolish enough to think that he loved her? What a joke! She would have to set him right, that was all there was to it.

As the car turned down the wide avenue toward the palace, Sophie sank further into her seat as she watched people stop and look at the car as they passed, a few men even tipped their hats to the vehicle, assuming undoubtedly that there must be some noble or dignitary within. Marcl was nearly falling out of the window on his side, exclaiming at the grandness of the avenue and the people. It was his first time going to the Palace at Kingsbury.

Sophie looked to Howl, and found that his eyes were fixed on her, unblinking, glittering in the shadows of the car. Sophie started at his look, she had not realized that he had been staring at her, it was quite unsettling. She looked away from him quickly, her fluttering gaze seemed to wake him from his reverie. Smiling, he leaned forward toward her and whispered,

"Cheer up, little mouse. This is your day of glory."

"I should hope not," she responded sullenly. "I'll have nothing to look forward to later on. Besides, I simply can't stand glory, especially if it's pinned on me."

"I guess we're sort of the same that way, aren't we?" he said, sighing.

"Howl, what are you talking about? You love to be seen…" she chided, a smile twisting the lines of her mouth for the first time since they had started their journey.

"Well, I'll admit in certain respects…I am not shy," he grinned up at her as he smoothed the creases from his trousers. "However," he continued. "It's competence that I'm talking about…While I was studying under Solomon, I tried my very best at mediocrity. Your life can be so much…freer when people don't expect too much from you."

How very typical, Sophie thought to herself, although her smile stayed just the same. The vehicle had reached the end of the avenue. The palace loomed in front of them, its beige colored stone dazzling in the afternoon haze. Instead of continuing on into the courtyard to deposit them at the grand staircase, the car turned left and continued along the road that encircled the palace. Howl noticed Sophie's confusion over this development.

"We're on the good list, Sophie dear," Howl explained to her, his smile somehow mirthless. "You can tell because we are not forced to walk those horrible stairs like a common petitioner."

"That's rather low," Sophie said. "Make people come to you sweating like a dog only to grovel at your feet? Bet it softens people up very nicely."

"It is nasty isn't it? Although very effective," Howl nodded, indicating Dubbie whose snores could be heard issuing from the corner of the coach.

"Poor Dubbie," Sophie sighed.

"Poor Dubbie!" Howl exclaimed. "I'll remind you that she would have been the death of me, or rather, quite worse than the death of me…"

"Don't worry, I wouldn't have let her get you," Sophie said in an offhanded way, as if it were absurd for him to think that he was ever in danger. His heart seemed to shiver as he looked at her. He fingered the material that covered his torso, he wasn't quite used to the feelings the reclaimed organ produced. It was a bit like learning to see in color again. Sometimes when he looked at her, he had to squint or risk being dazzled.

The car came to a smooth stop in front of a rather unassuming entrance at the back of the building. The crew disembarked and were quickly ushered into the palace. Sophie tried to stop herself from gawking at the grandness that the opened doors revealed. They stood in a hall thirty yards long containing a fountain, on the ceiling skylights let in fresh air and lit the black and white flagstones on the floor.

The air inside the hall was much cooler than the sweltering afternoon haze that permeated the outdoors. Sophie wondered how they could keep it so cool. She wondered if it was magic, or perhaps the sun simply didn't have the mustard to heat such a huge building, and had just given up and settled on blinding those inside with its glamour. Either way it was a relief.

"Back door guests are the best, aren't they?" a saccharine voice rang out from the shadows of the foyer. A tall, gaunt, middle-aged man with smile lines around his eyes came forth from the shadows and bowed to them. Sophie managed a curtsy before he began talking.

"Please allow me to introduce myself, my name is Jeremy and I am one of his Highness the Prince's stewards. Miss Hatter, Wizard Howl, the Witch of the Waste, little Marcl, and oh yes, Heen I see. What a…."

A tinny voice reverberated from the bucket Marcl held, interrupting a list of names recited no doubt to impress.

"What am I, burnt liver?" Calcifer chimed in, sparking over the rim of his confine.

"Good Heavens, child. What are you keeping in their?"

Like a normal boy who brought home a toad after a rainy day, Marcl flushed guiltily under the man's scrutiny.

"It's a fire demon, Sir. Name is Calcifer."

"My, what a motley bunch!" Jeremy exclaimed smiling at all of them, although a look at his eyes would tell you that he did not seem at all pleased with Marcl's pet. "Where was I? Oh yes. Please follow me, I shall show you your apartments. The Prince does not expect to see you until evening, and so I invite you to relax in the meantime."

Their crew ascended the stairs as their luggage was carried up in an gilded cart which Jeremy referred to as the "elevator." Sophie stole a glance over at Howl as they climbed the stairs. On the surface he seemed, as always, calm and care-free, yet Sophie knew it had been quite a risk for him to come here. Although Sophie's rescue had put him, by association, into the good graces of the Prince and King, he was nonetheless in default of his contract with the crown.

He had refused to fight when he was summoned, thus he was a traitor. Sophie knew his reasons for not going to war, and she fully supported him. Although one might accuse Howl of simply wiggling out of another responsibility, in this case she had seen the…the... things that wizards who obeyed the call became and what they did. She had been attacked by them, and the memory of that had furnished the scene of many nightmares.

The thought of Howl becoming a thoughtless pawn like that made her blood quicken in anger. That was a large mark against Prince Justin, he relied on a system that required the subjugation of men in such a vile manor. Sophie could not forgive it. If she got the chance she would certainly tell the Prince that she thought so, no matter how intimidating he might be.

They arrived at their suite. It was gorgeous, perfectly so, in an irritating way that made Sophie feel all the more awkward and small. Howl of course looked entirely at home here, and in fact seemed to be making a point of acting so. The suite had two bedrooms, a bath, and a common room with a large ornate fireplace that Calcifer could make himself at home in. Howl was lounging on the settee, his shiny black boots resting on the arm, when Jeremy had finished giving her a small tour of the rooms. Jeremy looked at Howl with thinly veiled disdain, before opening his mouth and dropping a bomb squarely on Sophie's head.

"If you please, I shall escort you to your apartments," Jeremy said politely, clearly addressing Marcl, Howl and Dubbie.

"Excuse me?" Sophie blurted out. She could not help herself. She couldn't be left here all alone, she would go mad. Sophie had been sure that they were to share these rooms together.

Jeremy turned and looked at her, perplexed. Before he could respond Howl leapt from the couch and took Sophie's hand.

"You will take care of Calcifer won't you?" he smiled down at her. "He gets upset when you're not around to tend to him, and you do it so much better than I."

"Of course, I would be happy to, I just thought that we…"

"Don't worry. You'll be fine, I'm sure Marcl and I won't be far away."

"But what about Dubbie?"

"Tell Jeremy that you'd like her to stay with you."

"Jeremy," Sophie asked, not used to ordering others around her voice was unusually high. "I would like Dubbie to stay with me, if that's alright."

To her relief Jeremy acquiesced.

"Of course, Madam. It is understandable that you would like to keep her near you."

"And would you have someone bring up some extra logs for Calcifer, he needs lots of feeding after he's been moved around."

"Make that pine, and bring up some egg shells too, and some bacon grease!" Calcifer demanded from his new post in the marble fireplace.

If Jeremy was upset about being ordered around by the fire, he didn't show it. He bowed deeply to Sophie and Dubbie and took his leave with Howl and Marcl in tow. Before he exited, Howl turned to give Sophie a quick wink as he sauntered away.

"Oh my," Dubbie said from her from the her seat on the sofa. "What a fantastic suite this is Sophie."

"Yes, Dubbie I suppose it is very lovely, but they were going to split us all up."

"I imagine they would!" Dubbie chuckled.

"What do you mean? There's enough room for all of us, more than we've had for the past week."

The old woman shook her head, her jowls quivering slightly in sympathy.

"I don't think they care where this old woman is," Dubbie said. "It's Howl that the Prince wants to keep in place."

"Howl? But why? Dubbie, you don't think they're going to try to arrest him, do you? Is that why I am here, to give them the chance to get at him?"

"No, Sophie, no, no. For such a sharp girl, you can be quite naive," she said as she folded her wizened hands over her ample belly.

"Then why, Dubbie?" Sophie cried in exasperation, irritated by the witch's smugness.

The old woman just shook her head and settled down for another nap. Sophie, now feeling more cross than terrified by her current position, huffed and stomped away to the bedroom that she was supposed to sleep in. She settled down on the mattress without even taking off her shoes.

She was too angry with the world to even remark on the delicateness of the satin covers, the softness of the down mattress, or the graceful lines of the peach colored silk valance that cascaded from the canopy over the bed. Instead all she could think of was the distressing orange color that covered the walls and how it seemed to be giving her a headache. Sophie listened to the sound of the door creaking open and she felt the gentle pressure of something jump onto the bed. She turned over to see Heen lying next to her, his great drooping eyes gazing at her sympathetically.

"Heen, what have I gotten myself into?"

She pet him until she noticed his eyes fix on a spot over her shoulder. His tail began to wag. Sophie looked over her shoulder to see Howl stooped, peering at her from the window sill poised to knock on the glass. Immediately Sophie jumped up from the bed and bound over to the window, opening it wide to admit the man.

"Howl? What are you doing here? And why on earth did you not use the door like a normal person?"

"Shhh…" he said holding a finger to a perfectly shaped lip.

Howl began to search the room, he opened the wardrobe, inspected the molding and the curtains, as if hoping to find something there.

"Howl," Sophie hissed at him, wanting him to explain his strange behavior.

When the man seemed satisfied the bedroom was empty of whatever he thought might be in there, Howl turned back to her and approached where she sat on the bed. He leaned down next to her and whispered in her ear, provoking a spray of goose-bumps to sprout all over her neck. She prayed he would not notice them.

"Miss Hatter, may I have a look at your luggage?"

"Why, Howl? Do you think they've put something in it?"

"It's a possibility, I just want to make certain," he responded.

"But why would Prince Justin do that?"

"If someone did, I doubt it was Turnip Head, Sophie. In fact there are several people who would rather I…well, anyway. Details are not important. It's better to be safe than dead, right?"

"Dead?" Sophie hissed, alarmed.

"Yes, or bewitched," he muttered absently before turning to catch the horror in her expression.

"I'm just joking!" he laughed. "Or am I? Anyway, better to be sure."

He retrieved her luggage from the common room where the porter had left it and made as if he were putting it away for her, which was sheer embarrassment for Sophie. He carefully sniffed all of her bottles of lotion, and shampoo. He then took her folded clothing and neatly deposited it in the dresser, and then hung her three dresses in the wardrobe.

"Howl is this really necessary?" she whined as he reached the bottom of her bag, where she knew her underwear, stockings and other more personal items were kept.

"Of course!" he said to her. "And educational too. What do you do with these things?" He asked, dangling her garter in front of her.

"You know damn well what those are for! You have more pairs than I do! And one in lilac, I might add!"

Howl threw up his hands in exasperation.

"You're right, you're right, it's true. But tights were all the rage in men's fashion a few years back, let me tell you."

Finally he reached the very bottom, where Sophie knew she had deposited her book. A copy of a book of poems, romantic poems in fact, about dragons, wizards, fairy maidens and other exciting and frivolous things. She had found it on Howl's bookshelf in her older days.

As it was one of the few books that did not involve formulas for magical potions, she had read it eagerly. She marked her page with a black feather that she had once fancied was Howl's, but was probably a discarded raven's feather, as Howl's feathers disintegrated quickly after he transformed back to human form. Sophie had kept it because it reminded her of him, and had sometimes sat and held it when he was away for days on end.

To her horror, Howl flipped through the pages of the book as well, seeking to find some evil rune inconspicuously hidden between the pages. The traitorous feather flittered out of the book and floated to the floor. Instead of just ignoring it, like perhaps a polite person might, Howl picked it up and turned toward her.

"What's this?" he asked, his bright eyes shinning at her, his expression unreadable.

"A bookmark, what does it look like?" Sophie responded, blushing.

"An old crow's feather," he said, carefully tucking it back between the pages that it had escaped from.

"Are you quite done?" she asked.

"No, I still haven't checked you over yet…" he said, his eyes glittering impishly.

"Oh Howl! What are you talking about? I don't think anyone has bewitched me or set some spell on me yet. You're being paranoid."

"Yes, unless perhaps you are a carrot, who has been charmed into thinking it is Sophie! and the real Sophie has been brainwashed and kidnapped."

"You're ridiculous!" she cried.

"Nonsense, happened to my uncle once. They found him, feet up in the garden, trying to photosynthesize. The carrot was never quite the same either, let me tell you."

"Really Howl..." she scolded as she scooted backwards on the bed, away from Howl who was now advancing on her, with an exquisitely wicked expression fixed to his features.

"Hold still Carrot," he sang as he came closer. "I can't say it won't be painless, but I must know if you are in fact some sort of ambulatory taproot."

"And how will you know if I'm a vegetable? What are you going to do, check between my toes for roots?" Sophie laughed nervously, aware of the way her breath hitched in her chest and her heart quickened as he looked at her. She felt the padded headboard behind her and knew that she was trapped.

"Hex marks Sophie, that's the thing," he responded. "It's essential to check the skin for them. But let's not start with the toes, I was thinking I would begin with these first..."

He kneeled on the bed in front of her and snatched up her hand, splaying her fingers and making a show of checking between them.

"Nothing there," he said, smiling at her through his lashes. "Next I think…underneath your braids," she snorted as he grabbed them up, flipping them over to see beneath.

"Ah, still nothing," he said, taking the time to stroke the silver hair between his finger tips. "How about behind your ears?"

Sophie shivered as he leaned forward, turning her head to each side as he searched behind them.

"Nothing there, Sophie dear," he whispered in her ear, his usual mocking intonation had drained away, replaced by a lower timbre, one that suggested things her body was only beginning to imagine.

"And your lips Sophie dear, how about them? Have they been tampered with?"

Sophie became aware that her eyes were tightly shut, she could hear Heen at the foot of the bed growling and she wished he would just shut up. She could feel Howl's thumb stroking her left cheek and the pressure of his weight shift the mattress as he leaned into her. She could feel his breath on her lips and she was hoping this moment would last forever when a resounding knock could be heard at the door, shattering the moment.

"Oh no!" Sophie cried, panic flowing into her already dilated veins. Her eyes snapped open. She looked into Howl's face, the barest fraction away from hers and found herself both elated and completely terrified.

"The Prince, Howl," she found herself stammering. "It's late. I had no idea!"

Howl slumped towards her, his hands on either side of her on the headboard, his forehead pressed against the cool surface of the wall just above her head.

"I'm sorry, Sophie," he said, his voice utterly serious. "I…shouldn't be this way, with you…" I aught to be taking more time, so I don't scare off both of us, he thought to himself.

Why not? Sophie cried inwardly. Why shouldn't you be this way with me, Howl? Am I really so plain? So revolting? This isn't fair. Why did I stop you? All at once she cursed fate, doorknockers and the angry tears she could feel collecting at the corners of her eyes.

Howl got up and stood stiffly beside the bed. Sophie slid off the bed herself, attempting to smooth out her dress and the rumpled bits of her ego at the same time.

"I'll just say that we will be coming shortly, shall I?" she said to him, her voice full of ice. Howl cringed hearing it.

Damn it. He kicked himself inwardly. Why couldn't he be calm around her? Why did he always act like a clown when she was near? Why did he push too far and too fast? He only hoped he hadn't ruined things completely. Howl heard the swish of her dress as she exited the room. He looked round and saw Heen staring at him accusingly from the bed.

"Heeeezzze," the dog admonished him.

"Oh please. It was only going to be a kiss! Her virtue is safe with me," Howl said, as he straightened his jacket.

The dog continued to stare at him balefully, his gray eyes drooping, his look conveying a distinct impression of incredulity.

"Oh, shut up," Howl snapped waspishly as he left the room to find Sophie and the others.