#wind wind

KIKI:

Kiki’s bags were all packed.

Really, there was only one bag-- her backpack, long ago enchanted with an expandable charm that let her carry as much as she could fit into a little Mundus volkswagen. It had been one of the many gifts that her mother had given her when Kiki first embarked on her mission to find a new mentor, a whole two and a half years ago. And inside it, she’d backed all her books, all her potions, all her family heirlooms. She’d packed up the last bit of hope she had that maybe, just maybe, Kiki would realize her full potential away from the bustling, too crowded streets of Ingary.

Two and a half years later...and had she?

Kiki thought this and looked at her bare mattress, where she’d laid out the crushed pieces of her family broom. It was the last thing she had to put away.

It was hard to look at the splintered wood and scattered twine and not think that, when arrived in Ingary again after two and a half years, her mother would be very disappointed in her.

But what her mother didn’t know was that Kiki had other plans too. She would bring the broom, bring little Jiji, back to the Takayama household, but then Kiki would not stay. Swynlake had taught her a lot, even if it had not improved her magic. Howl had taught her a lot too-- he’d shown her that she was capable of way more than she thought she was. Sure, she might not be a Great Wizard one day like her Master Pendragon.

But she could be something else. Howl showed her that she had the courage to look for that something else.

And so she moved forward, gathering up the pieces of her broom. The magic still tingled, alive even in its broken state. She felt it in every part of her. She felt her mother there, her Baaba Mei, her great-grandmother, her great-great grandmother before that. Years and years of Takayamas still connected all because of this little broom. It had taken her far. And though she couldn’t fly it home, she knew that was where it took her anyway. Any next steps she owed to this little broom, and to the adventures she had while riding it through the air.

“Don’t worry,” she spoke to it now, soft and loving, like the broom could hear her (she believed it could.) Kiki smiled as she put the pieces in her bag. “You’ll be all fixed in no time. Good as new.”

And I will be too.

Kiki headed downstairs after, her footsteps creaking on the stairs. She was faced with a familiar scene, one that had become her day-to-day over all these years: Calcifer crackling in the fire, a busy kitchen, Maggie playing with her little nest, and Howl at the table.

She smiled at Howl and tucked a strand of her black hair behind her ear. “Um, hi Howl. I’m uh, ready to go.”  

HOWL:

These days, Howl found himself by the fireplace even more.

The old wives’ tale of demons staying with their hosts, of bonds that lasted even after the deal was broken, those were true, it seemed, and there Calcifer was in the hearth (though now he could leave it, as Howl’s heart no longer bounded him -- but that was a tale for another time, what becomes of Calcifer and of Howl. This story, right now, is for Kiki).

Howl was waiting, now, in the downstairs area of his home, newly fixed from the ruckus that Melaenis had caused earlier this year, and he stared into the fire, unable to move for the weight in his chest bore him down ever so much.

Kiki was leaving today. There came a time in every master’s life when he said goodbye to his apprentice. Howl had pictured this day a few times during Kiki’s training, but in retrospect, his imagination had always been...detached. He pictured her leaving, closing the door behind her, and then turning back to his spells, pouring over his books.

But now, as he heard her shuffling around upstairs, he glanced at her shoes by the door, at her plate on the sink, and that deep, aching throbbing feeling in his chest permeated all through him.

“It’s hard,” said Calcifer from the flames.

To that, Howl groaned and slumped over on the dining table, burying his perfect golden waves in his arms.

“Why does it have to hurt though?” whined Howl. “I don’t like this. Not one bit. This is not what I want.”

“Get a hold of yourself, you big baby,” Calcifer said, reaching for another log.

Howl turned his head so that his cheek was pressed against the wood of the table. He was still lying like that when Kiki came down the stairs and it was only when she spoke that he lifted his head up a few centimeters from the table, palms still flat on it.

“Kiki!” said Howl, a charming smile splitting across his face. “Darling -- have you got everything you need? I’ve made you sandwiches for the journey. A dozen, since I wasn’t sure what you’d be in the mood for.” From the kitchen, a picnic basket of wrapped sandwiches flew in and Howl sat up straighter so he could retrieve it as it landed on the table.

“There’s a bacon sarnie and an egg salad and also cucumber and cream cheese. And chopped watercress and also salmon and cranberry chicken and just a good ol’ ham and cheese, jam and butter if you’re in the mood for something sweet. Oh what were the last three? I suppose it will be a surprise.”

KIKI:

Kiki smiled as Howl smiled, even though she knew that part of it was for show, just for her.

But not in the way that it had been for all these years. Before Howl had no heart and so when he smiled, it was mostly because of something he had to say or wanted to show her, or, very rarely, something that Kiki did that might impress Howl-- or make him proud. She’d wanted very badly to make him proud and so it hadn’t mattered as much as it maybe should have that those smiles, the little ones she managed to pluck like flowers, had once come from a heartless man.

She still thought they meant something. Actually, she knew they did. She could still procure one of Howl’s smiles and mix it into a charm. It might not have the same oomph, but any smile-- every kind of smile-- had magic.

The one that Howl forced on his face for her now, though, looked especially beautiful for Kiki. It was the first one that was all for her. If only Kiki could take that smile with her.

But she’d settle for all the other gifts that Howl had given her...which wasn’t settling, by the way, at all. What other apprentice could say that they’d created moving-picture pumpkins or magical tie-dye shirts? Or faced off with Madame Suliman and lived to tell of it? Or flown all the way to the cliff sides of Wales? Or helped raise a little baby dragon-demon from the time she hatched from her egg?

How many other masters would go to karaoke with their apprentices, listen to their kpop, and make them breakfast every single day?

Even when Howl didn’t have a heart-- he had cared for her, better than her own mother. She’d miss him. She’d really really miss him.

That missing surged through her like a powerful wind. She couldn’t help it; Kiki darted forward and slipped her arms around Howl, squishing her cheek against his chest and hugging him tight. He was so willowy and skinny, but as warm as Calcifer’s fire now. She heard that heart of his beating strong, if not a little fast. (She wondered if he was just a little nervous to see her go too.)

“Thank you Howl,” she said, squeezing him tight and then tighter. “Thank you so much. You’re the most wonderful master I could ever have.” That heart thump-thump-thumped. Kiki squeezed her eyes shut and listened to it, as if it were speaking directly to her.

“I love you, Howl. I’m going to miss you.”

HOWL

It is perhaps of not much surprise that Howl had not often heard the words “I love you” spoken to him a lot. Actually -- Howl could not recall the last time he’d heard that phrase, especially since his own heart had been missing from him for so long. His parents hardly said it past his childhood and even in his childhood it was few and far between.

(He’d not heard it out loud, but he still had seen Jared’s face light up when he had gotten a particularly tricky spell correct; he’d still seen the way Calcifer’s flames danced when he tossed him a slice of bacon; he’d still heard Belle’s laugh as he delighted her with little spells; he’d felt Maggie nuzzle his fingers and playfully nip at them; he’d heard Mel murmur in his ear late at night; and he’d danced with Kiki and sang with her -- so, he’d not heard it out loud, but perhaps had he had his heart, he would’ve felt it around him).

It was unfair, thought Howl, that Kiki was leaving after he’d finally been restored to humanity, after he could finally be a proper teacher and a proper guardian.

He hugged her close, pressing his face to the top of her hair.

“Oh, it’s going to be much quieter without you and that old man cat around,” he teased, ruffling her hair a little. “Maybe I’ll get some sleep in at last.”

That did nothing to help the knotty warm awful feeling that was knotting and warming up in his chest, so he cleared his throat some. He tried to remember what Calcifer had told him in their “How to deal with having a heart and human emotions” lessons about how it was bad or something to not talk about the knotty warm awful feelings inside of one’s chest.

“Kiki,” said Howl, after clearing his throat. “Having you around here has been -- it’s been wonderful, truly. I didn’t realise how empty this little house was till you filled it up and -- it will be quiet, yes, but I will miss you. I...love you.” Oh blast it -- here were the awful watery things in his eyes now and he blinked rapidly. “I’m sorry -- have you got a handkerchief?”

KIKI:

Howl’s words made her just a little sad and just a little happy and something in-between that Kiki was rather certain didn’t have a name. There were many reagents that had so far gone unnamed. You could see them in tiny glimpses or feel them as they wiggled inside you, but of course it was very hard to collect something if it didn’t have a name. Which made these kind of reagents the rarest of all-- the most valuable, the most mysterious, maybe even the most powerful, if you managed to capture one for yourself.

Kiki wished she could package up that strange sad-happy feeling and leave it behind for Howl. Now that he had his heart, she figured it would be safe with him. Oh, he’d do the most wonderful things.

She was sorry that she wouldn’t be able to see all those wonderful things for herself.

And so for the last second of the hug, Kiki let herself just be sorry and grieve all those memories yet-to-be-created. She knew there would be breakfasts without her-- new customers with new, creative projects-- new parties and events, new outfits for Howl to try. She wondered how big Maggie would get (she was almost the size of a donkey now) and if she would ever talk like her parents or like the dragon.

She wondered if Mel would be good to Howl. She worried. She hoped that even if Mel wasn’t, Howl would be good to himself. He’d remember that he was loved.

She pulled away, sniffling herself and giggled at Howl and his own little tears. She could see the magic in each one, sparkling every colour in the spectrum (you could use tears, sometimes, to build rainbows-- did you know that?)

She reached into her pack, which had everything she had ever needed, and she pulled out her little handkerchief.

“Here Howl,” she said. She dabbed his tears for him, one after the other. “You can keep this if you want,” she pressed the handkerchief into his hand. “So you have something to remember me by, yeah? Or-- well, if not-- you’ll at least remember how pretty tears can be.”

And they were lovely-- dotted there on her handkerchief like diamonds, every colour of the rainbow indeed.

Kiki took a deep breath and smiled at her master. “O-okay. I-- I think I should go now, huh? Will you walk me out?”

HOWL

He knew this moment would come the minute he let Kiki into his house that fateful February evening. Apprentice learned and then they grew up, and went on to have their own lives. It was the circle of life, that whole shebang, and back two years ago, Howl had thought nothing of it and even as he got to know Kiki and even as she wormed her way into his life, that day felt so far removed and out of touch that Howl never really thought of it (it also helped that back then, he had not had his heart, and now it was weighing on him extra hard -- he thought of all the lessons he may have been able to teach if he’d had it in the first place).

Howl dabbed his eyes with the handkerchief, holding it close to his cheek as Kiki spoke. His chest felt like it was wobbling, like there was a water balloon that someone kept poking and that if that someone kept jabbing their finger, it would burst and spill over and he’d start crying again.

The handkerchief was beautiful though, sparkling with his tears.

“Of course,” said Howl, beneath his sobs. He’d managed to quiet them a bit, so that they did not shake through him like a leaf in the wind.

There wasn’t a long walk to the door, just the steps that led down towards it. As they passed the hearth, Calcifer popped out, floating towards the edge [1], and reaching a fiery arm-like tendril out towards Kiki.

“I’m gonna miss ya, kiddo,” he said, floating a bit upwards. “You gotta visit us when you can!” He drifted towards Kiki, lowering his voice. “And thanks for your help around here, Kiki. We would’ve probably blown up in smithereens without you.”

He drifted alongside them now, nestling on Howl’s shoulder as they walked down the stairs and to the door.

“Well,” he said, resting a hand on Kiki’s shoulder. “You’re going to be just fine -- more than just fine, most excellent, really.” He inhaled a shaking breath, the handkerchief clutched in his other hand. “So long, darling. I’ll miss you.”

[1] he can float now

KIKI:

Howl sobbed once again into the handkerchief, and it was so strange wasn’t it-- more than two years as Howl’s apprentice, and she’d never seen him quite like this. Most times when people cried, it made Kiki awfully sad herself. But this time, Kiki smiled as her own tears gathered in her eyes and then fell, one by one, in a little quiet stream down her own cheeks.

And all around them blossomed love. She could not explain this reagent if she tried to for it never looked the same when it came, you simply had to know what it was by the feeling in your chest: sort of warm, sort of pink, sort of blue, and very, very, very big.

Love grew around them now, like a wind that spoke their names. She breathed it in and breathed it out and knew she’d carry it with her on the journey home.

And then it was time to go.

They traveled down the stairs, Calcifer fluttering out of his hearth like a little firefly. He whizzed and puttered, little embers falling like rain drops (though they disappeared when they touched the ground; they were not a type of fire that burned.) Kiki smiled at him and her tears swelled up fresh in her eyes. She was glad that Cal would be sticking around-- Earth suited him.

She paused at the door, turning on the balls of her feet toward Howl and Calcifer now. Her hands wrapped around her bag. This was one of those moments were she was supposed to have something big and important to say, you know? So they’d remember her, or something.

But Kiki didn’t think there was anything she could say that they didn’t already know, huh?

“I’ll miss you too, Howl. And you too, Calcifer.” She leaned in and kissed the little fire demon on the cheek, then kissed Howl on the cheek one last time too. “I’ll um-- call, okay? And write! And send you emails and texts and new songs to listen to. And I’ll visit, I promise, as soon as I fix my broom,” said Kiki, nodding. And as she spoke all these things, her smile lifted.

The future didn’t seem so big and scary anymore, did it?

“Okay, um-- I’m not gonna say good-bye so-- yeah. Yeah. See you soon!” she chirped. And she strode out the door, down the same cobbled path that she’d walked for the past two years, the same path that had originally taken Kiki to Howl’s door. Halfway down the path, she turned, stopped, lifted her hand and waved back at Howl and Calcifer-- Howl a shadow in the door and Calcifer a little light.

“I love you!” she called back to them. The wind fluttered around her hair and through her dress, and she felt it lift her toes off the ground. “Be good, okay! Don’t forget me! Promise!”

MELAENIS

Two birds glided down from the clouds that hung low on this wet, winter morning toward Stonehenge. One pulled up at the last minute, fluttering quickly his black-feathered wings-- a few feathers falling like petals-- as the other transformed in a flash of feather-and-magic: a witch standing in its place, as tall and still as the stones behind her.

Melaenis Ficente raised her chin and lifted her arm so the crow might land, gripping her forearm with his strong talons. He folded its wings back together as soon as he settled.

“This ought to be fun,” chortled the bird, turning its marbled eyes to the sky. “After I’ve heard so much about him. Did you tell him anything about me? How handsome I am, perhaps?”  

“Oh, keep your beak closed,” Mel said. “Try to behave yourself.”

Diaval clucked his tongue against his beak. “You’re right, you’re right. Wouldn’t want to make him jealous.” And he ruffled his feathers again and puffed his chest, though the next moment, his neck extended into the air. His claws adjusted on Mel’s wrist. “Ah-- I believe our visitors are approaching, ma’am.”

“Yes,” said Mel, her eyes catching the two figures growing in the sky-- a furl of cloak and an apprentice on the broom, carrying with her a glimmering flame that looked, from here, like a shooting star.  She felt her heart give an odd hammer in her chest, suddenly louder and bigger than it had been just a moment before. “I believe they are.”

It had been over three months since she had seen Howl Pendragon.

When she’d gotten his text, her first thought had not been of the man, but the egg. She’d been set up near Oxford (still several kilometres outside the main town), having set up a rather rudimentary, foldable workstation in a cheap flat. She’d been disguising herself as the student who lived there as the student spent her days in class. At night, she retreated to the trees, roosting with Diaval there in crow-form. Familiar and Mistress slept side-by-side under the tree foliage until sunrise; then Diaval spread his wings and watched until the student left, so he might alert Mel to begin the work again.

She was working on a spell. A difficult, quite dangerous spell. It consumed her, day and night, day and night, over the past 30 or 40 days since she began. Mel had nearly, but not quite, forgotten all about her egg.

Then came the text and at once, she felt her heart turn into a furnace inside her, the dragon lifting her head after nearly a month asleep. Howl’s text had been cryptic-- simply saying that they had to meet, that it concerned that dark, delicious magic they had created together, that it was in trouble. They settled on a meeting point and Mel packed up her things, the dragon’s fire simmering under her skin.

On the flight to Stonehenge, she’d let that fire fill her, as she seethed, imagining getting her teeth around Howl’s neck, turning him toasty with just one puff of fire. She thought about turning his arms and legs into her appetizers. She thought about saving that heart of his for last, and how tasty it would be. Oh, the magic it would fill her with.

And then those thoughts, somewhere along the flight, transformed-- Mel thinking of biting into the man’s flesh, into his tender lip, licking at his tongue, clawing down his chest. She remembered holding that heart in her heart and longed for it-- longed to hold it again.

By the time she arrived here and stood on the wet grass, she had no idea whose desire would win: the woman or the dragon. She did not know which wanted Howl as a snack and which wanted Howl as dessert.

But she did want him, and Mel supposed that was as close as a creature such as herself could come to missing.

He landed in front of her now, with a dramatic flourish of that cloak in true Howl fashion (Kiki landing beside him upon a cushion of air that dispersed-- quite a pretty landing, Mel had to admit, which showed wonderful command of her element). Her eyebrows twitched up, not yet smiling at him. Diaval hopped to her shoulder instead and whispered in her ear-- “Hmmm….he’s not that good-looking.”

She did smile then, with a little snort.

“Pendragon,” she said. “So happy to see you in one piece.” So far, she thought. “Now-- what have you done to my egg?”

Diaval let out a delighted, devilish caw beside her, like he was laughing.

HOWL:

A recap is needed, dear readers, for a lot had happened in the life of Howl Pendragon in the past few months. It began in August (or perhaps before in June, or perhaps before in October, that cold autumn night when he had first met the girl who spoke to the dead and ripped the earth from a grave with her bare hands). But in August was when the shadows of Howl Pendragon and Melaenis Ficiente collided, in a tangle of flesh and teeth and claws and feathers.

A month later came the egg. And with the egg, the death of Zeus Zephyr, a terrible tempest that blew across town, and the departure of Melaenis into the night.

Two months after, came the news of a death, came Howl’s unbecoming, an empty home with an unlucky apprentice, a disgruntled familiar, a nervous fire demon, and the egg.

And a week after that came Suliman, who took the egg. The familiar left, the apprentice and the demon journeyed long and far before finding Howl in a cave along the Scottish coast.

Since then, the trio journeyeed back to Swynlake for spot of time before contacting Melaenis and agreeing to meet her at Stonehenge.

Why Stonehenge?

Dramatic effect, Howl had told Calcifer and Kiki as they flew across the English countryside. Plus she’s not going to rampage Stonehenge--too valuable, even she knows that.

Since his little spiel with the demon shadow, Howl had been careful. He had been very, very careful, doing his best to stifle it every time it so much as cocked its head. He had taken to making very hot green teas and harvested relaxation from some of the more calm townspeople. Of course, this gave him an even better excuse to take long baths. So he’d been careful, but as he flew now, in human, not bird, he felt the stirrings.

The shadow was excited to see Melaenis.

Truth be told, Howl was as well. It had been too long. He missed her, if it were possible for him to miss anyone.

He was also slightly terrified she would eat him.

You see, the egg they had made together, Howl had promised to protect and right now, well it very clearly was not protected. It was in the clutches of Howl’s number one nemesis (well perhaps number two to that bratty girl he had accidentally texted whilst back in Swynlake), a certain Madame Suliman, a cunning and powerful witch who liked law and order above all else. The egg was very much not lawful or orderly--it had been made out of dark magic and chaos.

Oops.

But, he reasoned, Mel could not eat him, because he knew Ingary and Suliman and she needed him to get it back. And also, well, there was the possibility she actually cared about him and wouldn’t eat him.

Calcifer was the one who spotted her.

“She has a familiar!” he called out, balanced on Kiki’s broom.

The trio dove through the air and Howl whipped his coat around before landing on two feet, taking a moment to admire Kiki’s smooth landing.

And there Mel was, wild hair, wicked eyes, and everything. Cross, smiling, deliciously enigmatic as always. The crow on her shoulder dipped his head.

“Ah, Mel, darling,” he said, giving a little bow, his cloak flying dramatically out as he did so. “You haven’t introduced me to your new friend.” He dipped his head to the familiar, ignoring her question, instead holding out his hand so that Calcifer’s jar glided over to it. “As you can see,” he said, flicking his eyes towards Mel. “There is a member of my household missing, but we’ll get to details later.”

Alright, moment of truth. He just had to do it and hope Kiki got out of there before Mel unleashed her dragon.

“You see, our egg is currently in Ingary,” he sighed. “More specifically with Madame Suliman, who is bent on taming whatever hatches into a weapon, so I’ve been told, since I happened to be out of town and mind when that happened.” He fixed his eyes back on Mel, his face expressionless. “Don’t eat me just yet, though. I know Ingary and I know Suliman.”

MELAENIS:

You see, our egg is currently in Ingary… More specifically with Madame Suliman-- Mel’s eyes flashed their delicious, hungry scarlet red, the dragon awake at once, filling her entire body, head to toe, with its smoke. She could light up in fire with a twitch of a finger. She could taste his flesh on her tongue now just by breathing in. Diaval let out another high-pitched, shrieking laugh. “Oh dear, paesano, you just made her angry,” he hooted, those black eyes of his glinting in delight like obsidian gemstone. He turned his beak toward Mel’s cheek. “Are we going to eat him now? Can we?” “Hush, Diaval,” she told the familiar, lifting her hand. Her jaw clicked tight as she grit her teeth and stared Howl down, taking deep breaths to stop her anger from bubbling into a storm all its own, a storm of scale and teeth and fire. She didn’t want to wreck Stonehenge, he’d been right about that (she knew that was why he had suggested it-- and it was far enough from Swynlake not to arise suspicion). She also didn’t want to wreck him-- that pretty, sharp face. Even looking at him now, she felt that strange pinching in her chest. She’d missed him. She knew that she had. How many nights had he wandered into her thoughts, in the form of questions and what ifs? She’d missed his magic’s presence beside her, how it could fill a room and find balance with hers as well. She’d missed that bratty, clever tongue and how easy it was to laugh at his habits-- it was the only time Mel had ever really let herself laugh-- But she felt betrayed. She felt let down. In nearly a decade, Mel had never trusted a single person, only herself. Keeping the egg with Howl had been the first time she let herself lean on another.   She thought she could depend on him. But their egg was gone and her heart was teetering on a cliff’s edge, about to break. He’d done that to her, made her so vulnerable, so tender, so soft. If anything happened to that egg… She couldn’t forgive him. And no one wanted to be responsible for breaking Mel Ficente’s heart. Diaval sighed, twisting his neck again. “Odds are she eats you eventually,” he clucked at Howl. “Diaval,” another warning hiss. He clicked his tongue, dipped his beak to fluff the feathers under his wing. “It was my fault,” the apprentice spoke then, stepping forward. Mel’s gaze shifted at once, snapping to the girl. The thin twiggy thing had knocking knees, but she lifted her chin anyway. How brave, sneered Mel inside her own head. “It--it was, I-- I couldn’t… protect it. I tried. Howl didn’t-- he would have, if he’d been there--” “Your mistakes belong to your master, Miss Takayama,” Mel cut her off. “Enjoy that privilege while it lasts.” “But he didn’t do anything wrong!” “Darling, please,” Mel said. Her voice had grown soft as silk in a second. “I’m already cross. Don’t make me turn you into an anthill.” Kiki blanched then and stepped back at once, gripping her broom tight. When Mel looked back at Howl, her eyes had turned clear and glassy green again. She had pressed the dragon back, but still felt its tumultuous rage, couldn’t pick it apart from her own, or the crack in her heart-- which made her eyes shine. She would hold those tears back, just let them burn through Howl too. She hoped it would hurt him, to see her like this. “Tell me you have a plan then,” she said. “To get her back.”

Because of course her egg-- she had a daughter. She’d felt that as soon as she’d held the beautiful blue egg against her own chest.

HOWL:

Howl held his ground. He was steady, his eyes fixed on Mel, still, emotionless, like a clear pool of water on a sunny day.  There was a whisper in the back of his mind that told him this was his fault, it all was, but Howl pushed it away. Because that was a long, never-ending trail of blame that he did not want to go down. The egg was stolen because of Jiji and the familiar had gotten suspicious because Howl had vanished and Howl had disappeared because Belle had come over with terrible news and that had happened, of course, because Seph had died, which Howl did not know why but he suspected that pale, twisting brother and his whispering ghosts had something to do with it--and there was a whole line of blame, of dark magic, of secrets in the streets of Swynlake.

“Of course I have a plan, Melaenis,” said Howl, casting a glance at Kiki to make sure she was okay, then flicked his eyes back to Mel. “It is, of course, up for adjustments and tampering, but I have a vague plan, nonetheless. It requires your magic, of course, as you and I would make quite the splash should we show up as ourselves in Ingary, whereas Kiki can simply be visiting her mother back home for the spring.”

They’d had a brief discussion about this on the way over to Stonehenge, Howl leaving out the more nitty gritty details, because he liked to have a general plan in the air first and work out the kinks after the fact.

“I was thinking animals, something non-descript, though I suppose we could be crows and make a little flock with your friend here. Something that can fly, that’s for sure. Suliman’s office is at the top of the tallest spire in Ingary and no doubt she’s going to keep the most dangerous specimen under her direct watch. She likes the control.” He drew out the last word, tongue flicking to the back of his teeth before resting at the bottom of his mouth.

“She’ll have defensive spells, no doubt, so we’ll need to prepare for that, perhaps send a spying spell out to see what sorts of things she has, make it something small and tricky, like a breath of air and slip it in through a window.” He crossed his arms and thrummed his fingers on the inside of his bicep, starting to pace a little.

To be honest, this was exciting. He liked formulating plans, especially with Melaenis, tugging at little strings in order to make their plan come into fruition. He liked polishing, he liked tweaking, and he liked it when the unexpected happened and they were still ready for it.

He flicked his eyes up.

“Please feel free to interject, darling. As much as I like hearing myself talk, my plans are useless without your approval and your tweaking.”

MELAENIS

She listened, Diaval adjusting on her shoulder, fluffing his feathers every now again so they fluttered her own curls. She kept her eyes forward and let Howl’s half-baked plan (because it was half-baked, he had to know that) unfold before her. She supposed he’d left room for her own input. Maybe that was why it was subpar at best.

She could do what he asked though. They could disguise themselves in feathers and she could hide their magic too, but Suliman most certainly had a sharper sixth sense than most, and her grounds would be fortified to weed out spells, which meant, yes, they’d need to even disengage those or Mel would have to braid her transmutation with additional layers. These were called russian nesting doll spells and they were extremely complex-- achieving a balance, drawing the borders of each spell so the magics didn’t bleed into the others, but existed harmoniously-- and it affected the timer attached to transmutations. They’d cut their time in such skins in half, perhaps more. The window narrowed, thus the stakes grew higher. Tf they did such a spell, they’d have less time and no room for error.

Mel hated those odds.

Mel was careful. Mel planned and plotted and loved to bake in room to fiddle and fix. Her father taught her as a young girl to account for such failure and thus failure was a factor in every equation she wrote. She was also, simultaneously, a perfectionist of course-- but having such couching meant she rarely did fail.

It made her skin itchy, just thinking of creating such an unstable spell. She could poke very large holes in this plan but she also didn’t know if she had anything better necessarily. In an ideal world, she’d just let the dragon loose and crush Suliman’s home. But she’d get a town-full of sorcerers after her. And think of the ruckus and the mess.

(Her dragon salivated for the chance. She’d undoubtedly eat at least three or four sorcerers before she had to take back to the skies).

So that meant Mel needed to limit the amount of factors she could not control. Adjust Howl’s plan accordingly.

She tilted her head the other way. “Miss Takayama will not be accompanying us,” she said first. “Not to be offensive, Pendragon, but your apprentice lacks too many skills and as much as I would love to use her as bait, she’s a ticking time bomb just waiting to go off. Her altercation with Suliman already makes it highly unlikely she’d be trusted anyway. She stays here. Or goes back to Swynlake, wherever,” Mel said and waved a hand, not truly caring. “It’s for her own safety as much as ours. As for us--”

Mel sighed then and bit at her lip, her brow furrowing. Her gaze flicked back to Stonehenge as she thought, as though she might inspiration there. “We could use you as bait instead,” she said, knowing quite well that he’d once been Suliman’s apprentice. Such connections never truly die, simply mutate. “Would she believe that you have repented your dark and devious ways? It would be much easier to just hide one of us-- less risky to perform one transmutation on myself.  I could hide in your pocket and you could waltz right in-- the prettiest of Trojan horses,” she complimented with a tiny twitch of her lip, despite the fact this was Melaenis offering Howl up on a platter, as though he were a roasted pig, apple in his mouth.

Part of her liked that. Part of her was vindictive and full of anger and would happily, without question, sacrifice Howl if she got her egg.

But she would also break her transmutation in a moment to guard him. Suliman would not take both her treasures.

HOWL:

He almost opened his mouth to protest, for you see, Howl wanted Kiki there. Kiki would balance them out. Kiki’s magic could cloak his and Melaenis’s. Kiki’s magic could keep them both grounded--well, perhaps not Mel, but certainly Howl. He thought of the time he had spent in his demon form, how Kiki had journeyed across the sea to bring him back. He thought of how she was the only person who could’ve done that.

Which was why he promptly decided that it was best for Kiki to be away.

“You’re right,” he said, glancing from Melaenis to Kiki. “Kiki, you’ll stay at home. I need you there, because we can’t bring Cal in--there’s too much risk. The two of you need to stay in Swynlake.” He lips tightened. “Finish the last of the orders, will you? I think we’re backed up and angry customers are not return customers. Throw in some sort of consolation spell--you do those flying ones so charmingly, perhaps a few of those.” He smiled at her. “I need you to stay safe and keep Cal safe--”

“But Howl!” protested Cal.

Howl raised his hand.

“No, no. Listen to me. In case something happens, the two of you need to be on the outside, you hear?” He flashed his gaze from Kiki to Cal, staring down the fire demon. Calcifer looked back, then nodded slowly.

Mel spoke again and before Howl could respond Calcifer jumped in.

“Absolutely not,” he said.

“Calcifer,” said Howl slowly.

“No! I’m not going to watch you waltz right back to that...that...horrible woman.” Calcifer flared up, spilling out of the little jar that Howl was holding, towards Melaenis. “Do you have any idea what she did to him? He was only seventeen, too.”

Inside of Howl, the demon bird was on the defense, raising its feathers, hissing. Howl’s face remained stony. He flicked his eyes towards Melaenis.

“Calcifer,” he said calmly.

“Howl, you can’t do this,” said the fire demon, twisting around so that he was facing Howl.

“It will be fine,” said Howl, with a sigh. “I can tell her that I’ve changed my ways, that I’ve had a wake-up call. If we cloak my magic in Kiki’s, maybe mix it together a little so it’s not so obvious, it’ll mask the dark magic in it, make it look like the whole--” He waved his hand. “Situation, made me repent, blah-blah-blah. She’s not familiar with how these things work, no one in Ingary really is.” He could still see the worry in Calcifer’s eyes. “Oh, come on Calcifer. Melaenis will wreck havoc upon all of Ingary should Madame Suliman try to seduce me.”

He turned his gaze to Mel.

Right? He wanted to ask, but hoped his eyes did it instead.

MELAENIS AND KIKI:

Kiki opened her mouth to protest at once too, but no sound slipped out. No word sprang to her lips. She knew he was right before she even tried, and her heart had been broken long before he agreed now. It had received that final, shattering blow when Kiki plummeted to the floor of Howl’s home and lay among the shrapnel of wood and furniture. Her body had ached, but it was her heart that didn’t recover-- at being betrayed, at Jiji having no faith, at failing again and causing all of this mess in the first place.

She could only be trusted with moonbeams in jars and flying charms. She’d never be a great witch, not like Melaenis and not like Howl and not like Suliman and not like any other Takayama before her. In fact, Kiki was to be the last of the Takayama witches. She would take the bloodline with her when it was her time.

Of course Howl didn’t want her with him. Of course. Her mouth closed and she nodded obediently, like an apprentice should.

-

Mel’s eyebrows raised as the demon puffed up his flames, the air filled with the crackling of his incension. Trust a fire demon to be hot-tempered, this was nothing new-- but there was one thing that grabbed Mel’s curiosity, something she’d think about later--

He was only seventeen, too!

I was only eighteen, Mel thought to herself. When her eyes flicked back to Howl, some of their hardness had gone, but she masked everything else. All her questions. All her confessions. Her most fragile secret. She remembered briefly all those long, restless nights when she could not sleep and so she did what she did best, and she had thought, and she had planned, and she had thought of Howl and wished he were beside her to share these thoughts and these plans. She imagined their reunion much differently those nights-- thinking back, Mel’s lip twitched a little at her school girl’s whimsy, for it was that eighteen-year-old witch who had dreamed of the spells she and Howl could cast-- of the worlds they would build and the pasts they would rewrite for themselves.

But this was all business first, no time or place for dreams. She would not sit beside Howl and open her heart to him anymore than this heartless man would do for her. The dreams would have to wait and so would all this personal, emotional gobbledegook. The dragon certainly didn’t like it.

So she smiled with the dragon when Howl looked at her. “Of course,” she said. “I hope Suliman gives me the excuse. I’m sure she’d taste divine.”

Then her head snapped to the young witch besides Howl and she spoke brusquely. “Alright then, Miss Takayama, we require the essence of your magic, so if you’ll be so kind as to come here-- it’s just the prick of the finger.”

Kiki looked startled. “Blood magic?”

“Oh, don’t look like that, you’ll bore me. It’s barely that.”

“But--” Kiki said and looked toward her master as if for comfort. Mel supposed she shouldn’t blame the girl. All the books and all the teachings warned against it. It was just tradition.

“Perhaps Howl should procure the ingredient then,” she supplied, seeing the way Kiki looked at him. “If that will comfort you.”  

HOWL:

If there was any a time for the rules to be broke, dear Kiki, Howl wanted to say, it was now. He did not dabble too much in blood magic, but the circumstances were dire right now. Besides--they weren’t hurting anyone. At least that was not the plan. They were retrieving their--er--egg, child thing, what have you.

Howl had patience with Kiki. He dipped his head towards her.

“It’s just a prick,” he said. “And no doubt Suliman will be protected with something just as strong. You won’t be affected by it, just the two of us, since would be casting the spell.”

Jared had warned him, once, many years ago, about breaking the rules too much. He was never one to abide by them, but he saw that streak of rebellion in Howl and gave him a word of caution.

Some sorcerers never come back, he said. You already fucked up and got a demon on you--but be careful, kid.

He thought of his weeks in demon form, not himself, the roar of the ocean waves and the stone cold floor of the cave.

Howl turned so he was facing Kiki, his shoulder towards Melaenis, Calcifer’s little jar hovering near the two of them.

“I need you away and back in Swynlake,” said Howl, while taking out his wand, “because if something happens to us, you are the only one who can handle what happens next.” He glanced at Calcifer, who shrank a little in his jar, but then flickered up towards Kiki.

“Are you sure about this Howl?” whispered the demon. “We could all just run.”

“This was my fault,” he said, slowly. “And now a great power is in the wrong hands. We can’t run away. We always did.” He fixed his eyes on Kiki now. “We don’t have to do this, but it would be safer and less suspicious. Just hold out your hand. It will be a little prick, like the tip of a needle but then it will pass.”

The spell involved more of his own blood than it did of Kiki’s. It involved a dark fire, which they’d get from Cal. It involved a Night with No Moon, bottled up before hand. It involved three dashes of deceit, the more different each one, the better. It involved one long pour of unclear intentions.

It would be Howl’s blood, believe it or not, that masked the deceit and unclear intentions and all the other stuff.

MELAENIS AND KIKI:

What Howl did not realize was that it wasn’t Kiki’s soul she worried for. It was Howl’s. He’d just come back from that cave by the seaside, he’d just shed all his feathers. What if it was all useless and pointless in the end and Kiki had flown those weeks for nothing? She wanted to argue, and for not the first time since she’d left him, she wished that Jiji was here after all. He always had the fury when Kiki lacked the confidence. He’d say it all right too, so right that Howl would remember that he wasn’t invincible and neither was Melaenis. It didn’t matter he had a shadow. He was still human. He should hold onto that.

But Kiki didn’t have a choice. She wasn’t going to refuse her master anything, not if he said it would help-- she had to trust him. So she swallowed and held out her hand to him, palm up. The pain pricked sharp and short just as he said, gone before she even noticed. She watched though as a little drop of blood bloomed on the tip of her finger anyway, like a rose unfolding its petals.

-

Mel watched and she sensed what Kiki could not. When Howl’s wand touched Kiki’s finger, his magic reached for hers. And their shared magic opened in the air-- Diaval’s beak opened and Mel’s nostrils flared and the dragon stirred. Her eyes flashed their scarlet red. She felt, there was no other word for it, hungry.

She could taste the Takayama girl’s magic and there was so much of it. The drop of blood was a feast. That one drop, and Mel would hold the entire Takayama line on her tongue. Their years and years of carefully cultivated magic, harvested by moonlight, protected by the force of Yin and Yang now quivered vulnerable in the air. When hidden in the flesh of the girl, it didn’t feel quite like this. Oh, Mel wanted it. She could sink her teeth into the little witch and make all that magic flow freely, like a river down the mountain from where the Takayamas had originally come (that’s what the name meant-- Takayama, the high mountain).

How had she not noticed before? Her eyes flashed to Howl. Certainly he could feel Kiki’s magic throbbing in the air. One drop of blood like one hundred. She pressed her lips together, but her mouth-- the dragon’s mouth--still salivated.

“Excellent form, Pendragon,” she said when the drop was collected. Her eyes remained on the girl’s hand, even when she curled her fingers into her palm to try to hide the magic. “And thank you, Miss Takayama. Your magic is a gift. We won’t waste it.”

HOWL:

Oh, Howl felt it, alright. He’d had his suspicions, especially after seeing Kiki in the Middle Ages in all her glory. He knew, of course, the only way to confirm those suspicions would be to cut Kiki open and pick her apart bit by bit. And he did not want to do that, not at all.

And yet, as that drop of blood wafted in the air, after he had gently pressed his wand against her finger, the demon bird’s eyes flashed open and it let out a slow growl within Howl’s chest.

Howl the sorcerer, Howl the man, however, kept his gaze steady, because behind all that power, there was a girl, Kiki, his apprentice, and he’d fight his own demon before he hurt her.

He could feel Mel’s gaze on him and he did not look at her, instead watching as that drop of Kiki’s blood drifted into his vial and then curled up at the bottom, as if it were scared of itself. He held the vial up, staring at it for a second, then let it drop against his chest.

“Thank you, my dear,” he said to Kiki, leaning forward to squeeze her shoulder gently with his hand. Only then did he glance back at Mel, dipping his head in a little nod.

Howl did not know what was going to happen next. In theory, he did. They would part ways here, most likely, on this foggy morning and Kiki would head back to Swynlake, to their empty little home with Calcifer in his jar. And she would set Calcifer on the hearth and she would finish up her delivieries. And he and Mel would cast this spell and it would awaken their shadows and they would have to fight to keep their human selves at the forefront. And they would go to Ingary. They would go to Suliman. They would get the egg back.

There was an unsettling cold feeling in his throat. He did not know what to make of it.

“Well, guess this is goodbye for now,” he said brightly, letting Calcifer’s jar drift back to Kiki.

“Howl…” said Calcifer softly. He shifted so that he was peering a bit outside of the jar.

“Keep each other safe,” he said to his demon and his apprentice. “Mel and I will do the same for each other.” He let his gaze linger on Calcifer (who could feel that heart beat quicken inside of him, fluttering in fear, in worry, like only a child’s heart could). “We’ll keep in touch.”

And he turn back to Melaenis, eyes glimmering.