Howl's Twisted Castle

22: The Violinist

The stale, musty mildew that had settled in my chest all day was removed by the crisp fresh air of the outdoors as we made our way out of the cavern. The storm had abated, leaving the skies awash with shades of purple and pink and as we backtracked up the hills and away from the ocean. The sun had already fallen below the horizon, and we raced against the fading light of day to make it into town. 

The tiny lights of Port Haven served as our guidepost against the setting sun. The lights dotted the landscape, giving it the appearance of hundreds of little fireflies, but not at all a town. We walked over the rolling hills of thick green grass and down into wet areas overgrown with bulrushes. The frogs and the crickets, along with the soft rustle of the trees in the background, gave everything about Dunbeath an enchanting aura.

We made our way out of the hilly region and onto the rocky path which led us straight into town. All the lights I had seen from afar were, in fact, oil lanterns that hung from every house we passed. Save for our footsteps, it was quiet through the streets, and I gathered from the lack of people around, the businesses must have been long since closed for the day. 

A few people poked their heads through their curtains, watching us silently as we passed through. A few times, I found myself staring at the curious townsfolk, but Howl kept us moving along before I could say anything. He didn't talk much about the town, but he did tell me that the locals were a friendly sort, so I kept that in mind every time I caught them staring at us.

"Just a bit further I believe," he murmured, checking the street signs at every road we passed. 

"It's getting rather late, are you sure we'll be able to find a place to stay?"

Howl nodded and wiped the water from his glasses so he could get a better look at the street sign he was standing by. "Evergreen Terrace, I think this is the one. It's been far too many years since the last time I came to Port Haven so I had to ask Markel about the town before we came. He said there's a decent inn down this way, so this is our best bet for tonight."

A short distance down the road we came upon a massive timber-framed hall that looked more like a private residence than an inn, yet the hand craved sign swinging above the entrance indicated that it was in fact, an inn. Howl opened the door and ushered us in and away from the cold nip of the night. 

It was an immense open area with vaulted ceilings and staircases on either side of the room leading up the bedrooms on the second floor. The massive common area had tables surrounded by a central hearth where a giant pot of stew bubbled away happily under the glowing coals. At the back of the room was a small bar behind which displayed doors that led most likely to a kitchen or a pantry. I noticed there was barely a to be spared and wondered if it was even possible to get a seat, let alone a room tonight.

A tiny, portly little innkeeper manned the hearth, standing on a footstool whilst stirring a gigantic pot of soup on the fire. She looked up from her work and gave us a wide toothy grin. Hopping down from her stool, she wiped her hands on her dirty apron and greeted us both. 

"Good evening to ye! I'm sure ye can see it be a busy night tonight, what with half the town in here for supper, but there be two extra seats if'n ye need a spot of food."

Howl took my cloak and gloves, tipping his hat politely to the innkeeper. "Thank you, ma'am, that would be perfect, would you happen to have two rooms to spare for the evening as well?"

"The name's Maggie deary," she corrected him sternly, "and I've most certainly got rooms to spare for you and your grandmum for the night."

"Grandmother?!" I barked suddenly, causing the innkeeper to jump. Howl's eyebrows disappeared under his hat, giving me an incredulous look as they both stared at me like I was a mad woman.