Howl's Twisted Castle

26: A Fish out of Water

Maggie led me into the kitchen away from prying eyes, choosing to seat me at a small table in the back corner. She sat across from me with her arms folded, with a look on her face that reminded me strongly of my mother. I clasped my hands together in my lap and had the decency to look shameful. 

Hamish was standing at the counter on the opposite end of the room, cleaving the meat off a leg of lamb. The way he watched us as he sliced each piece clean off the bone was a bit unnerving, it made me flinch each time the knife hit bone, but as I watched the young boy package the carved meat, I reminded myself that not everyone who wields a sharp looking cleaver is a murderous lunatic. 

I supposed sometimes my imagination got away from me.

Maggie cleared her throat and pulled my attention away from Hamish's cleaver. Her look told me that she knew something, but she was waiting for me to fess up before she did. I knew what Maggie wanted me to explain, after all, I gave her quite a shock this morning thanks to the drastic change in my appearance. But the question was, what exactly did she want me to say? It's not like magic would be a foreign concept to Maggie; Howl told me only last night that magic originated on this island, so why did she need me to explain myself?

Not only that but what if she realized that I was originally from Ingary? Howl made it clear that I wasn't to divulge that information to anyone. He said something about the locals hating Ingarians.

I thought up a few ridiculous scenarios that might explain my situation, but nothing seemed to fit. Howl had already given me a cover, so I guess I had no choice but to use it.

"Right," Maggie leaned in and gave me a severe look, "I'm going to give ye one chance to tell me the truth, lass. I won't be angry, I promise ye that."

Hamish's cleaver struck the lamb's carcass again, causing me to flinch unconsciously. "We're travellers, Howl and I," I started, hoping I sounded believable. "I am a seer you see, and he's my assistant. . ."

She listened to me spin my tale of how we moved from country to country, offering our services, the details of which I was somewhat vague about. The more I talked about it, the more I realized I sounded absurd, and I had a nagging feeling that she thought the same, because nothing I said seemed to impress her. 

After relaying my tale to her, Maggie got up and walked over to a cask, filling two mugs with the amber liquid that poured from the tap. Sliding one over to me, she kicked her feet up on an empty chair and balanced her mug on her bosom. "That's a pretty tale yer telling me lass," she smiled sweetly, "but not a word of that's true."

My palms felt sweaty as I gripped the mug tightly. "O-of course it's true! If you go and ask Howl, he'll tell you the same story, I promise!"

"Oh, I have no doubt he would, but I want the truth, not the story ye both planned out beforehand."

There wasn't any way I could explain myself that would help our situation. I couldn't tell Maggie that I was from Ingary, and I most certainly couldn't tell her about my real problem; if Maggie was at all superstitious, then saying to her I'd been cursed by a witch would be a surefire way to get us both kicked out. Or worse. 

Every time I wanted to start talking, my lips refused to cooperate, and no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't tell her the truth. Howl needed to stay and rest, and I needed to find a way to get us home while he did so.

Maggie let out a long sigh, reached across the table, and surprised me by holding my hand. 

"Listen, I think it's plain to see what's going on here," she said, not unkindly.

The laugh escaped me before I could tamp it down. 

"It isn't."

Maggie shook her head and took up her mug again. "Well let me tell ye how I see's it, and ye can tell me if I'm wrong. Ye both show up in the middle of the night wearing the same tartan and crest, yer disguised as a hag and he's got an injury that needed treating. Am I missing anything?"