House of Many Ways (Howl's Moving Castle 3)

“Whereas,” the Witch interrupted, “Peter is just the opposite. His method is always perfect, but the spell always misfires. One of my reasons for sending him to Wizard Norland was that I hoped the wizard could improve Peter’s magic. William Norland owns The Boke of Palimpsest, you see.”

Charmain felt her face hotting up again. “Er…,” she said, passing Waif half a pancake, “what does The Boke of Palimpsest do, then?”

“That dog will be too fat to walk if you go on feeding her like that,” said the Witch. “The Boke of Palimpsest gives a person the freedom to use all the magics of earth, air, fire, and water. It only gives fire if the person is trustworthy. And of course the person has to have magical ability in the first place.” Her severe face showed just a trace of anxiety. “I think Peter has the ability.”

Charmain thought, Fire. I put the fire out on Peter. Am I

trustworthy, then? “He must have the ability,” she told the Witch. “You can’t make a spell go wrong if you can’t do magic in the first place. What other reasons made you send Peter here?”

“Enemies,” said the Witch, somberly sipping her coffee. “I have enemies. They killed Peter’s father, you know.”

“You mean lubbocks?” Charmain asked. She put everything back on her tray and took a last swig of coffee, preparing to get up and go.

“There is,” said the Witch, “only the one lubbock so far as I know. It seems to have killed all its rivals. But yes, it was the lubbock that started the avalanche. I saw it.”

“Then you can stop worrying,” Charmain said, standing up. “The lubbock’s dead. Calcifer destroyed it the day before yesterday.”

The Witch was astonished. “Tell me!” she said eagerly.

Although she was itching to be off to the Royal Mansion, Charmain found she had to sit down, pour herself another cup of coffee, and tell the Witch the whole story, not only about the lubbock, and the lubbock eggs, but also about Rollo and the lubbock. And this is unfair use of witchcraft, she thought as she found herself telling the Witch how Calcifer seemed to be missing.

“Then what are you sitting about here for?” the Witch said. “Run along to the Royal Mansion and tell Sophie at once! The poor woman must be out of her mind with worry by now! Hurry it up, girl!”

And not even, Thank you for telling me, Charmain thought sourly. I’d rather have my mother than Peter’s any day. And I’d definitely rather have breakfast with Princess Hilda!

She got up and said a polite good-bye. Then, with Waif racing at her heels, she rushed through the living room and down the garden into the road. Lucky I didn’t tell her about the Conference Room way, she thought, pounding along with her glasses bouncing on her chest. Or she’d make me go that way, and I’d never get a chance to look for Calcifer.

Just before the road bent, she came to the place where Calcifer had exploded the lubbock eggs. A huge lump of the cliff had fallen off there, sending a hill of boulders almost as far as the road. Several people who looked like shepherds were climbing about on the pile, searching for buried sheep and scratching their heads as if they were wondering what had caused the damage. Charmain hesitated. If Calcifer was to be found, those people would have found him by now. She dropped to a walk and stared at the heap of broken stone carefully as she passed. There did not seem to be a trace of blue among the rocks, or a sign of a flame anywhere.

She made up her mind to have a thorough search later and broke into a run again, hardly noticing that the sky was a clear blue and that there was gauzy blue haze over the mountains. It was going to be one of High Norland’s rare scorching days. The only way this affected Charmain was that Waif soon began to look seriously overheated, panting, rolling from side to side as she ran, and hanging her pink tongue out so far that it almost brushed the road.

“Oh, you! I suppose it was that pancake,” Charmain said, snatching her up and pounding onward. “I wish the Witch had not said that about you,” she confessed as she ran. “It makes me worried about liking you so much.”

By the time she reached the town, Charmain was as hot as Waif, so hot that she almost wished she had a tongue to hang out like Waif’s did. She had to drop to a brisk walk, and even though she took the shortest way, it still seemed to take forever to reach Royal Square. At last she swung round the corner into the square and found her way blocked by a staring crowd. Half the citizens of High Norland seemed to be gathered there to stare at the new building standing a few feet away from the Royal Mansion. It was almost as tall as the Mansion, long and dark and coaly-looking, and it had a turret on each corner. It was the castle Charmain had last seen floating vaguely and sadly away across the mountains. She stared at it in as much amazement as everyone else in the square.

“How did it get here?” people were asking one another, as Charmain tried to push her way toward it. “However did it fit?”

Charmain looked at the four roads that led into Royal Square and wondered the same thing. None of the roads was more than half as wide as the castle was. But there it sat, solid and tall, as if it had built itself in the square overnight. Charmain elbowed her way toward it with growing curiosity.

As she came close under its walls, blue fire leaped from one of the turrets and plunged toward her. Charmain ducked. Waif wriggled. Someone screamed. Everyone in the crowd backed away in a hurry and left Charmain standing there on her own facing a blue teardrop of flame hovering just level with her face. Waif’s frayed tail pounded on Charmain’s arm, wagging a greeting.

“If you’re going into the Mansion,” Calcifer crackled at them, “tell them to hurry it up. I can’t keep the castle here all morning.”

Charmain was almost too delighted to speak. “I thought you were dead!” she managed to say. “What happened?”

Calcifer bobbled in the air and seemed a trifle ashamed. “I must have knocked myself silly,” he confessed. “I was under a heap of rocks somehow. It took me all yesterday to worm my way out. When I did get out I had to find the castle. It had gone drifting off for miles. I’ve only just got it here, really. Tell Sophie. She was supposed to be pretending to leave today. And tell her I’m almost out of logs to burn. That should fetch her.”

“I will,” Charmain promised. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

“Just hungry,” Calcifer said. “Logs. Remember.”

“Logs,” Charmain agreed and went up the steps to the Mansion door, feeling suddenly that life was very much better and happier and freer than it had seemed before.

Sim opened the great door to her surprisingly quickly. He looked out at the castle and the staring crowd and shook his head. “Ah, Miss Charming,” he said. “This is surely becoming a rather difficult morning. I’m not sure that His Majesty is quite ready to begin work in the library yet. But do please to come inside.”

“Thanks,” Charmain said, putting Waif down on the floor. “I don’t mind waiting. I have to speak to Sophie first anyway.”

“Sophie…er…Mrs. Pendragon, that is to say,” Sim said as he heaved the door shut, “seems to be some of the difficulty this morning. The Princess is highly put out and—But come this way and you will see what I mean.”