Howl's Twisted Castle

16: Kingsbury

I looked at Markel with bewilderment. I wasn't sure what surprised me more, the fact that he'd just given me insight into Howl's secret life or that it appeared that Howl has a twin brother. 

"Calcifer? Who is he?" I asked for the thousandth time. Every time I attempted to make eye contact with Markel, he would strangely look away. He busied himself with grabbing one of the boxes to clean up my sewing, and my patience was starting to fray. I pulled the box away from his reach and gave him a knowing look.

"He's. . . Err," Markel rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. He sighed after receiving a particularly severe look from me, tossing aside a shirt in his hands. "I'm sorry I just can't say. Believe me, if I could, I would tell you. There are just some things that are better left unsaid; this is one of those cases."

I gaped at him. "What do you mean you can't say? You just told me his name was Calcifer! You can't just tell me that and then not elaborate!"

Markel grimaced, avoiding my glare. "It was a slip of the tongue. I shouldn't have told you that in the first place. This is the Master's business, I'm not supposed to get involved with his affairs, so neither should you."

The rope that had been restraining my patience snapped.

"What's with all this secrecy? Should I be concerned about this Calcifer person? Is Howl hiding something about him because he's dangerous?"

Markel shook his head animatedly, waving his hands to calm me down. "It's nothing like that, I promise."

A knot formed in my throat. "Should we be worried about Howl then? I mean could Calcifer hurt him?"

Markel's features softened. "No don't worry about that, he can handle Calcifer. The Master's been after him for years. Chasing down a lead on Calcifer is nothing new, the Master does this from time to time."

His reassuring tone did little to calm my nerves, but I tried my best to listen to him. So Howl was searching for this Calcifer person. Why was he searching for him, and why did he look so much like Howl? I tried asking, but Markel wasn't going to give up any more information. I knew if I pressed my luck any further, Howl might rescind his agreement to help me with my curse and that was more important to me than pushing for information at this point. If he said Howl could handle this on his own, there was no point in me arguing in opposition.

Markel had returned to sifting through the suits, putting them away neatly in the boxes. He held up the mangled bits of scrap from a suit I had cut into pieces for patches and cocked an eyebrow at me. I knelt down beside him and gathered the bits and pieces of material into a pile to discard in the kitchen waste bin. 

"So you aren't going to help Howl?" I asked after we'd spent a fair amount of time cleaning my mess up.

He stopped sifting through some of the formal wear. "As I said, the Master tends to his affairs. If he wanted help, he would have asked," he said. 

I closed the last box and leaned against it for support. "Would he, though?"

"If he wanted help, then yes he would ask." He picked up a black suit, complete with a bow-tie and held it to his chest, changing the subject. "What do you think, does this suit me? "

"Why?" I asked incredulously. "What's wrong with what you're wearing?"

He tossed the suit on top of the box and with a deep sigh, he slumped into the armchair next to me. "It's Lettie's stepmother," he began.

I felt a twinge of bitterness. I swear that woman was determined to destroy Lettie's happiness. "What did she do this time?" I asked in a measured tone.