Howl's Twisted Castle

36: Trespassers

The door protested with a groan as the weight of it swung inward, granting us access inside the home that was once Howls. Almost as soon as we stepped foot inside, I could tell that something about this place felt unnatural. Although the air felt stagnant, I could find no evidence that this place had been effected by the burden of time. For a home that had stood for over a century, I expected, at best, a great deal of cobwebs and dust, or at worst, rot and decay. But this was not the case.

As we passed through the front foyer, I noticed a coat seemingly discarded across the bench next to a newspaper that indicated the day's date. May 14, 1801. Next to that I found two hastily packed suitcases that never made it past the front door. It was like walking into a scene that had yet to play its self out, but I already knew the ending. 

I left the front foyer in favor of the living room. It was then that I realized something peculiar. Howls family home was laid out almost identically to his castle and yet, where Howls castle was all white walls and ebony floors, this place displayed dark walls, rich mahogany, and furniture clad in damask silks that gave it a sort of timeless elegance.

There were a few extra walls dividing the kitchen and dining area from the rest of the home, but I found myself unable to move from the living room to discover them. I could not, for I was fixated on a painting that hung on the back wall. It was set high above the fireplace, showcased by two sconces that had long since lost their wicks. It did not need their light, however, for the vibrant colours on the canvas illuminated the room without assistance. 

The canvas depicted a younger version of Howl, standing between his mother and father, each of them smiling to an unknown audience. This was a much different version of the Howl I knew, sharing the same unruly raven hair as his mothers, but with the piercing green eyes of his father. Howl's father gripped his sons shoulder proudly, with his mother holding him cheek to cheek. In the center was little Howl, holding his shiny red violin. This was once a family. 

I reached out to touch the rough surface, tracing the pattern of their matching outfits. I recognized his mothers dress at once, for it was the same one he had lent to me only a few days ago.

"Sophie?" Alex asked, interrupting my thoughts.

"Yes?" I removed my hand from the painting, remembering that there was a reason to my being here.

"I believe there is an extensive library upstairs. If it is intact, I recall that the late Mr. Pendragon had some rare manuscripts by an early 14th century scholar that I am eager to examine. I would be most obliged if you would let me investigate this matter, unless you require my assistance?" He cleared his throat politely and gave me a look that said he wanted nothing more than to be engrossed in his scholarly pursuit.

I dusted my hands on my pants and gave him a thumbs up. "I don't see why not. Why don't you search the library for me, while you're up there?"

I'm sure Alex would have responded, but he was already climbing the stairs before I could finish my sentence. I suppressed a smile and turned my attention back to the task at hand.

Finding an object that Howl loved. 

Alex seemed confident that I could find something here that fit that description, but as I stood in the vacant living room, I wasn't feeling as hopeful. Did I know Howl well enough to find something that might work?

I erased the worry from my mind and began my search, starting with the living room. It was a tidy space, with a few pieces of furniture that all turned towards the fireplace. Nothing at first caught my eye as I went through the drawers and searched the shelves, finding only little odds and ends that bore no meaning to me. It seemed to me that the Pendragons kept a tidy household, which made my job all the more difficult.