Go and catch a falling star, Get with child a mandrake root, Tell me where all past years are, Or who cleft the devils foot; Teach me to hear mermaids singing, Or to keep off envy's stinging, And find What wind Serves to advance an honest mind.
If thou be'st born to strange sights, Things invisible to see, Ride ten thousand days and nights Till Age snow white hairs on thee; Thou, when thou return'st wilt tell me All strange wonders that befell thee, And swear No where Lives a woman true and fair.
If thou find'st one let me know; Such a pilgrimage were sweet. Yet do not; I would not go, Though at next door we might meet. Though she were true when you met her, And last, till you write your letter, Yet she Will be False, ere I come, to two or three.The terms of the curse have all been fulfilled at last: there's no holding back now. Cowardly or not, it's his moment to suck it up and be brave, and so he's ventured into the Waste. But this is more than putting an end to the Witch
( ... )
"No! I left that deliberately!" Now he really has to bellow to be heard over the rushing wind. "I knew I'd be angry enough to stop her if she tried anything there. I had to leave her an opening, see? The only chance I had of coming at Prince Justin was to use that curse she'd put on me to get near her."
"Not likely!" He can't confess to that and besides, it's not true. "I'm a coward. Only way I can do something this frightening is to tell myself I'm not doing it!"
No, no, they can't slow: it won't work. The only way to go once you've started moving forward is to keep moving forward, like it or not. "Keep running! You'll get hurt at this speed!"
Below them, the mountains are visible against a line of green that makes up the flowering bushes. The sky is still full of sand, swirling and biting, but the mountains grow and the line of flowers rush toward them. "All my flanks were weak!"
They still have to shout to be heard. "I was relying on Suliman being alive. Then when all that seemed to be left of him was Percival, I was so scared I had to go out and get drunk. And then you go and play into the Witch's hands!"
"Garbage!" That's just... garbage, pure cachiad. "You just never stop to think!"
They're starting to slow; the dust from the ground kicks up around them in dense clouds. Together, they plunge into the bushes with a crash, still going so fast that Howl has to swerve, tugging Sophie along with him in a long basilisk-like run across a lake. The water makes lap-lap sounds as they skitter across it. "I was relying on you being too jealous to let that demon near the place."
When they land on the shore, they're running slowly. The birds fly off and petals depart their flowers as they pass; the castle floats quickly down the lane toward them, its smoke drifting back in the wind. Howl slows down enough to crash the door open, pushing Sophie and himself inside.
"Michael!"
"It wasn't me who let the scarecrow in." Michael looks guiltier than ever before.
Sophie's still trying to assimilate that 'jealous' - of course, she'd known Howl had known, but it's still mortifying to be told so out loud! - as she looks around at the castle.
Everything seems . . . surprisingly normal. Percival's lying unconscious on her bed, which someone has thoughtfully pulled out from under the stairs. Lettie and Michael and Martha are all gathered around it, fussing. Sophie wonders briefly where Fanny and Mrs. Fairfax are, until she hears the thump from upstairs, and realizes that Howl's spiders are under attack.
The spiders are the furthest thing from his mind at the moment; what he's concerned about is Miss Angorian. He dives for the guitar but before he can get to it, it bursts with a single booming note that in fact sounds better than any noise he was ever able to coax from the thing, not that this matters at the moment. The strings snap and the body shatters, splinters of wood showering him. The tattered sleeves of his black suit are all that protect him.
And Miss Angorian is there by the hearth smiling: he was right that she must have been in the guitar the whole time. Waiting. Watching.
What an opportunist.
"Your witch is dead."
She looks supremely unconcerned. "Isn't that too bad! Now I can make myself a new human who will be much better. The curse is fulfilled. I can lay hands on your heart now."
No. No. Eyes widened, Howl watches in horror as she reaches into the grate and picks up Calcifer, who wobbles atop her clenched fist looking terrified
( ... )
Calcifer is more than terrified. "Help!" he says weakly, twisting in her hand and staring out at everyone, pleading with his eyes.
"Nobody can help you," Miss Angorian says, almost sneering. "You are going to help me control my new human. Let me show you. I have only to tighten my grip."
Screams come from Calcifer and Howl as she squeezes the hand holding Calcifer until the knuckles show pale yellow. Calcifer beats and struggles every which way in pure agony, as Howl collapses and hits the floor hard, his face bluish.
Miss Angorian pauses in her squeezing to stare down at the unconscious Howl in astonishment. "He's faking," she says.
"No he's not!" Calcifer screams. He twists and bends in pain, twisting into a writhing spiral shape. "His heart's really quite soft! Let go!"
Quite calmly, slow and gentle, Sophie raises her stick.
She is angrier than she has, perhaps, ever been. It's cold anger, and it lets her think, for a moment. Long enough to figure out how, for once, to best use her magic.
"Stick," she mutters. "Beat Miss Angorian, but don't hurt anyone else."
And then she swings the stick up and cracks Miss Angorian across the knuckles, as hard as she can.
Calcifer is dropped as Miss Angorian lets out a squealing hiss, which sounds a lot like a wet log burning. He feels nothing but terror as he rolls helplessly on the floor, flaming sideways and roaring huskily.
The roar of terror increases when he sees Miss Angorian raise a foot to stamp on him.
Sophie has to let go of her stick, and dive to rescue Calcifer, hoping that for once she's gotten it right.
Half to her surprise, the stick keeps beating Miss Angorian all on its own - again and again and again. So it had worked! She had been counting on the magic in that stick. She stands up, holding Calcifer, and sees that the stick is smoking with the heat of Miss Angorian
( ... )
The room is full of movement as everyone rushes to obey. Mrs. Fairfax raises her broom in the broom cupboard. Fanny stands on the stairs, hands on her hips. Lettie jumps up and guards the door to the yard while Martha goes and stands by the bathroom.
Face white and eyes shut, Percival leaps up and runs for the same destination as Michael. Reaching the castle door first, he pulls it open, revealing a non-moving landscape.
The sight of bushes standing still causes Miss Angorian to race for the door with inhuman speed. However, before she can reach it, the scarcrow is suddenly there, blocking it with its stick body and arms and Prince Justin's body, which hangs across its shoulders, still wearing Sophie's lace shawl. Scowling, Miss Angorian backs away.
The stick is on fire now, the metal end glowing and sagging. It can't last much longer, Sophie thinks - and even as she realizes that, Miss Angorian grabs Michael and drags him in front of her.
She'd told the stick not to hurt Michael. It stops, hanging midair - still flaming - and Martha dashes up and tries to pull Michael away. The stick looks even more confused, and Miss Angorian moderately triumphant. It seems that Sophie hadn't thought it quite through after all - and time is passing far, far too fast.
"Calcifer," she says, trying to remain steady and calm, "I shall have to break your contract. Will it kill you?"
Get with child a mandrake root,
Tell me where all past years are,
Or who cleft the devils foot;
Teach me to hear mermaids singing,
Or to keep off envy's stinging,
And find
What wind
Serves to advance an honest mind.
If thou be'st born to strange sights,
Things invisible to see,
Ride ten thousand days and nights
Till Age snow white hairs on thee;
Thou, when thou return'st wilt tell me
All strange wonders that befell thee,
And swear
No where
Lives a woman true and fair.
If thou find'st one let me know;
Such a pilgrimage were sweet.
Yet do not; I would not go,
Though at next door we might meet.
Though she were true when you met her,
And last, till you write your letter,
Yet she
Will be
False, ere I come, to two or three.The terms of the curse have all been fulfilled at last: there's no holding back now. Cowardly or not, it's his moment to suck it up and be brave, and so he's ventured into the Waste. But this is more than putting an end to the Witch ( ... )
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After all this time, it's still something of a shock. She's having to readjust several of her impressions of Howl very quickly.
"Why did you pretend to run away? To deceive the Witch?"
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How... honest of him.
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The realization hits Sophie like a blow. He's being astoundingly, impossibly honest - and they're in a wind, too.
The last bit of the curse has come true after all.
Her legs are exhausted, and they start to slow more as she realizes this - because if the curse has caught up, then what chance do they have?
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Below them, the mountains are visible against a line of green that makes up the flowering bushes. The sky is still full of sand, swirling and biting, but the mountains grow and the line of flowers rush toward them. "All my flanks were weak!"
They still have to shout to be heard. "I was relying on Suliman being alive. Then when all that seemed to be left of him was Percival, I was so scared I had to go out and get drunk. And then you go and play into the Witch's hands!"
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"I'm the eldest!" she reminds him, shrieking over the wind. "I'm a failure!"
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They're starting to slow; the dust from the ground kicks up around them in dense clouds. Together, they plunge into the bushes with a crash, still going so fast that Howl has to swerve, tugging Sophie along with him in a long basilisk-like run across a lake. The water makes lap-lap sounds as they skitter across it. "I was relying on you being too jealous to let that demon near the place."
When they land on the shore, they're running slowly. The birds fly off and petals depart their flowers as they pass; the castle floats quickly down the lane toward them, its smoke drifting back in the wind. Howl slows down enough to crash the door open, pushing Sophie and himself inside.
"Michael!"
"It wasn't me who let the scarecrow in." Michael looks guiltier than ever before.
Reply
Everything seems . . . surprisingly normal. Percival's lying unconscious on her bed, which someone has thoughtfully pulled out from under the stairs. Lettie and Michael and Martha are all gathered around it, fussing. Sophie wonders briefly where Fanny and Mrs. Fairfax are, until she hears the thump from upstairs, and realizes that Howl's spiders are under attack.
Reply
And Miss Angorian is there by the hearth smiling: he was right that she must have been in the guitar the whole time. Waiting. Watching.
What an opportunist.
"Your witch is dead."
She looks supremely unconcerned. "Isn't that too bad! Now I can make myself a new human who will be much better. The curse is fulfilled. I can lay hands on your heart now."
No. No. Eyes widened, Howl watches in horror as she reaches into the grate and picks up Calcifer, who wobbles atop her clenched fist looking terrified ( ... )
Reply
"Nobody can help you," Miss Angorian says, almost sneering. "You are going to help me control my new human. Let me show you. I have only to tighten my grip."
Screams come from Calcifer and Howl as she squeezes the hand holding Calcifer until the knuckles show pale yellow. Calcifer beats and struggles every which way in pure agony, as Howl collapses and hits the floor hard, his face bluish.
Miss Angorian pauses in her squeezing to stare down at the unconscious Howl in astonishment. "He's faking," she says.
"No he's not!" Calcifer screams. He twists and bends in pain, twisting into a writhing spiral shape. "His heart's really quite soft! Let go!"
Reply
And Howl - she doesn't think Howl is breathing.
Quite calmly, slow and gentle, Sophie raises her stick.
She is angrier than she has, perhaps, ever been. It's cold anger, and it lets her think, for a moment. Long enough to figure out how, for once, to best use her magic.
"Stick," she mutters. "Beat Miss Angorian, but don't hurt anyone else."
And then she swings the stick up and cracks Miss Angorian across the knuckles, as hard as she can.
Reply
The roar of terror increases when he sees Miss Angorian raise a foot to stamp on him.
Reply
Half to her surprise, the stick keeps beating Miss Angorian all on its own - again and again and again. So it had worked! She had been counting on the magic in that stick. She stands up, holding Calcifer, and sees that the stick is smoking with the heat of Miss Angorian ( ... )
Reply
Face white and eyes shut, Percival leaps up and runs for the same destination as Michael. Reaching the castle door first, he pulls it open, revealing a non-moving landscape.
The sight of bushes standing still causes Miss Angorian to race for the door with inhuman speed. However, before she can reach it, the scarcrow is suddenly there, blocking it with its stick body and arms and Prince Justin's body, which hangs across its shoulders, still wearing Sophie's lace shawl. Scowling, Miss Angorian backs away.
Reply
She'd told the stick not to hurt Michael. It stops, hanging midair - still flaming - and Martha dashes up and tries to pull Michael away. The stick looks even more confused, and Miss Angorian moderately triumphant. It seems that Sophie hadn't thought it quite through after all - and time is passing far, far too fast.
"Calcifer," she says, trying to remain steady and calm, "I shall have to break your contract. Will it kill you?"
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