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Moving a Castle
29 March 2007 03:22 pmIt all happens in such a blur: the battle with the Witch is long forgotten and put aside to think about later, because things must be done and they must be done quickly. Nothing spurs on a cowardly man like the prospect of being caught. So there are runes to write and measurements to take and brackets to install, and Sophie and the dog to avoid, and Calcifer to listen to, and the five-pointed star in a circle to let Michael draw. He knows that much magic.
The basics cared for, he jots quick notations round the star and circle, then takes Michael and dashes out into the yard, only to return a moment later to ask Sophie what they're selling in the shop. She tells him flowers and that's perfect; he can work with flowers. To prepare for the move he has to redecorate, so to speak: the colors on the doorknob need to change. Paint bucket in hand, the blue blob becomes yellow and the green one purple and the red one orange, but he leaves the black one alone.
He also pointedly doesn't touch that tiny slice of silver that leads to the pub. No, that's his entirely secret escape. Well, his and Sophie's, but nobody else gets to use it. In fact, he's charmed the door against anyone other than the two of them even noticing the silver. The tip of his black suit's sleeve dips into the paint as he works and comes out all colors of the rainbow; when he shakes it off, it's black again and he ignores Sophie's question about which suit it is: he's got precise and difficult work to do. He sends Michael out into the yard for the silver shovel and once he's got it and chalks a sign on both handle and blade, the entire room seems to breathe in a quiet hush.
Now for the hard part: moving Calcifer. He is, after all, the heart and soul of the castle. "Are you ready, Calcifer?"
The fire demon peeks out from between the safe haven of a pair of logs. "As ready as I shall ever be. You know this could kill me, don't you?"
Without smiling, Howl holds up the shovel. "Look on the bright side: it could be me it kills. Hold on tight. One, two, three." Slowly, steadily, he digs into the grate and works the shovel underneath Calcifer, lifting him up even more steadily and gently and when he turns around, Calcifer rests uneasily on the silver shovel and the room fills with smoke. With utmost caution he moves with Calcifer into the chalk circle and then into the center of the five-pointed star. Holding the shovel as steadily as possible, he takes one complete turn and Calcifer turns too, orange eyes wide and round with panic.
It's like the whole room turns with them. When they've made the circle, Howl steps out of the star and circle -- again, with enormous caution -- and kneels by the hearth, redepositing Calcifer into the grate. The logs that had fallen off earlier are replaced immediately; smoke still hangs everywhere in the room as the movement settles. The inside of the castle is... different, as if it's inhabiting a different body all of a sudden and needs to squeeze to fit into it. But what they've known as the castle meets the strangeness of the new location and melds together with it until they're one again: it's their home but a little different.
"Have you done it, Calcifer?" Howl coughs away the smoke that still lingers.
"I think so." The fire demon rises up the chimney, looking as healthy -- if that word can be used to describe him -- as ever. "You'd better check for me, though."
Rising from his knees, Howl moves to the door and opens it, yellow blob downward; the door opens onto a street in Market Chipping. Nodding at Calcifer, he shuts the door, turns the knob orange-down, and tries again. This time, a wide, weedy drive follows away from the door lined by clumps of trees; at the end stands a grand stone gateway with statues on it. He turns to Calcifer. "Where is this?"
Calcifer's voice is defensive. "An empty mansion at the end of the valley. It's the nice house you told me to find. It's quite fine."
Almost but not quite tempted to smile, he nods. "I'm sure it is. I simply hope the real owners won't object." Closing the door on the scene, he turns the knob purple-down. "Now for the moving castle."
It's close on dusk outside; a warm wind full of enticingly different scents blows in, clearing away Calcifer's smoke. Trees and bushes and leaves and flowers move by; there's a glimpse of the sun setting on water beyond and Sophie's halfway to the door in an instant. "No, your long nose stays out of there until tomorrow." Howl closes the door with a snap. "That part's right on the edge of the Waste. Well done, Calcifer. Perfect. A nice house and lots of flowers, as ordered." Flinging the shovel down, he turns without further comment or apology and heads up the stairs for bed and it's blessed relief: he's asleep in an instant.
It's been a very long day.
The basics cared for, he jots quick notations round the star and circle, then takes Michael and dashes out into the yard, only to return a moment later to ask Sophie what they're selling in the shop. She tells him flowers and that's perfect; he can work with flowers. To prepare for the move he has to redecorate, so to speak: the colors on the doorknob need to change. Paint bucket in hand, the blue blob becomes yellow and the green one purple and the red one orange, but he leaves the black one alone.
He also pointedly doesn't touch that tiny slice of silver that leads to the pub. No, that's his entirely secret escape. Well, his and Sophie's, but nobody else gets to use it. In fact, he's charmed the door against anyone other than the two of them even noticing the silver. The tip of his black suit's sleeve dips into the paint as he works and comes out all colors of the rainbow; when he shakes it off, it's black again and he ignores Sophie's question about which suit it is: he's got precise and difficult work to do. He sends Michael out into the yard for the silver shovel and once he's got it and chalks a sign on both handle and blade, the entire room seems to breathe in a quiet hush.
Now for the hard part: moving Calcifer. He is, after all, the heart and soul of the castle. "Are you ready, Calcifer?"
The fire demon peeks out from between the safe haven of a pair of logs. "As ready as I shall ever be. You know this could kill me, don't you?"
Without smiling, Howl holds up the shovel. "Look on the bright side: it could be me it kills. Hold on tight. One, two, three." Slowly, steadily, he digs into the grate and works the shovel underneath Calcifer, lifting him up even more steadily and gently and when he turns around, Calcifer rests uneasily on the silver shovel and the room fills with smoke. With utmost caution he moves with Calcifer into the chalk circle and then into the center of the five-pointed star. Holding the shovel as steadily as possible, he takes one complete turn and Calcifer turns too, orange eyes wide and round with panic.
It's like the whole room turns with them. When they've made the circle, Howl steps out of the star and circle -- again, with enormous caution -- and kneels by the hearth, redepositing Calcifer into the grate. The logs that had fallen off earlier are replaced immediately; smoke still hangs everywhere in the room as the movement settles. The inside of the castle is... different, as if it's inhabiting a different body all of a sudden and needs to squeeze to fit into it. But what they've known as the castle meets the strangeness of the new location and melds together with it until they're one again: it's their home but a little different.
"Have you done it, Calcifer?" Howl coughs away the smoke that still lingers.
"I think so." The fire demon rises up the chimney, looking as healthy -- if that word can be used to describe him -- as ever. "You'd better check for me, though."
Rising from his knees, Howl moves to the door and opens it, yellow blob downward; the door opens onto a street in Market Chipping. Nodding at Calcifer, he shuts the door, turns the knob orange-down, and tries again. This time, a wide, weedy drive follows away from the door lined by clumps of trees; at the end stands a grand stone gateway with statues on it. He turns to Calcifer. "Where is this?"
Calcifer's voice is defensive. "An empty mansion at the end of the valley. It's the nice house you told me to find. It's quite fine."
Almost but not quite tempted to smile, he nods. "I'm sure it is. I simply hope the real owners won't object." Closing the door on the scene, he turns the knob purple-down. "Now for the moving castle."
It's close on dusk outside; a warm wind full of enticingly different scents blows in, clearing away Calcifer's smoke. Trees and bushes and leaves and flowers move by; there's a glimpse of the sun setting on water beyond and Sophie's halfway to the door in an instant. "No, your long nose stays out of there until tomorrow." Howl closes the door with a snap. "That part's right on the edge of the Waste. Well done, Calcifer. Perfect. A nice house and lots of flowers, as ordered." Flinging the shovel down, he turns without further comment or apology and heads up the stairs for bed and it's blessed relief: he's asleep in an instant.
It's been a very long day.
