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哈尔的移动城堡|Howl’s Moving Castle

第4章 迷样的巫师

属类： 双语小说 【分类】魔幻小说 -[作者: 黛安娜-W-琼斯] 阅读：[10388]
Chapter 4 Sophie discovers several strange things
《 字+字- 行+行- 页+页- 字+字- 行+行- 页+页- 》
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苏菲决定，她唯一能做的就是表现给豪尔看，让他见识一下她是个多么出色、难能可贵的清洁工！她把稀疏的白发用一块旧破布绑起来，卷起袖子露出两条瘦巴巴的老手臂，然后，由储物柜里找来一条旧桌布，围在身上当围裙。她拿起一个水桶和扫帚，开始工作。

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“你在干什么？”麦可和卡西法异口同声以一种吓坏了的语气问道。

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“打扫啊，”苏菲坚定地回答。“这地方实在脏得不能见人。”

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卡西法说：“并不需要。”麦可则喃喃地说：“豪尔会把你踢出去的。”但是苏菲不理他们，灰尘如云如雾般涌起。

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就在这时，又有一阵敲门声响起。卡西法燃旺火焰叫道：“避难港的门。”说完打了好大一个嘶嘶作响的喷嚏，紫色的火星透过灰尘的云雾四散出来。

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麦可离开工作台走到门边。苏菲透过她造成的灰尘偷看，这次麦可将门把转到蓝色向下，然后打开门，外面就是她在窗子里看到的街景。

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一个小女孩站在那里。“费雪先生，拜托，”她说：“我替我妈妈来拿那个咒语。”

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“你爸爸的船要用的安全咒是吧？”麦可说：“马上好。”他回到工作台，由架上取下一个瓶子，将里头的粉倒在一张方型纸上。他忙着弄咒语时，小女孩好奇地往屋里瞧，看着苏菲，苏菲也好奇地看着她。麦可将包着粉的纸扭了几下，走回来，跟小女孩交代道：“跟妈妈说沿着船洒，可以保护船来回一趟的安全，就算遇上暴风雨也没问题。”

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女孩拿过纸包后，递给麦可一个铜板。接着问道：“魔法师请了一个女巫来帮忙吗？”

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“没有。”麦可说。

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“你是说我吗？”苏菲回叫道：“哦，是的，孩子。我是印格利国最棒、最干净的女巫。”

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麦可把门关上，看来很生气。“消息马上就会传遍避难港了，豪尔也许会不高兴。”他将门柄转到绿色朝下。

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苏菲毫无悔意，心里暗暗偷笑。或许是手里那把扫帚给她的灵感吧？不过，如果每个人都认为她是在为他工作的话，豪尔或许会让她留下来。这感觉真奇怪！当她还年轻时，像现在这些行为，她光是想到都会尴尬到不行，但是成为老妇人后，她不再在意该说些什么、做些什么了，她发现这样做人反而轻松许多。

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当麦可在壁炉里掀起一块石头，将小女孩的铜板藏在下面时，她也过去多管闲事。“你在干吗？”

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麦可一脸惭愧的样子。“卡西法跟我在试着存钱，因为不这么做的话，豪尔会把赚到的没一分钱花掉。”

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“欠考虑的挥霍无度！”卡西法劈啪地说：“国王付他的钱他会用得比我烧一根木头还快。真是毫无概念！”

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苏菲从水槽取水洒在空中，好让灰尘降下。卡西法吓得一路退后，靠在烟囱上。然后，她又重新扫了一遍地。她对着门扫去，好仔细端详一下那个方型门把。第四个方位，到目前为止还没被使用过，那是一个黑色的斑点。这个又通向哪里呢？边想着，苏菲开始轻快地清除梁木上的蛛网。麦可呻吟着，卡西法则又开始打喷嚏。

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就在此时，豪尔带着一阵冒着蒸汽的香水味走出浴室。他看来干净极了，连他衣服上的银饰及刺绣似乎都跟着明亮起来。他才看一眼就退回浴室里，一只蓝银色的袖子举高，护着头叫道：“停停！女人！别动那些可怜的蜘蛛！”

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“家里有蜘蛛是耻辱！”苏菲边宣告边将他们一把把地扫除掉。

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“那就只清蛛网，不要动那些蜘蛛。”豪尔说。

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搞不好他跟蜘蛛有什么邪恶的关联，苏菲想着。嘴里回说：“它们只会制造更多的蛛网！”

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“蛛网可以捕捉苍蝇，有用的很。”豪尔说：“不要动扫帚，我要走过去。”

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苏菲倚着扫帚站立，看豪尔横过房间、拿起吉他。当他的手碰到门把时，苏菲问他：“红色通往金斯别利，蓝色通往避难港，那黑色呢？通往哪里？”

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“你这个女人实在够爱管闲事！”豪尔说：“那通往我私人的避难所，我是不会告诉你的。”他打开门，门外是宽广、移动着的荒野和山丘。

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“豪尔，你什么时候回来？”麦可带点绝望地问道。

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豪尔假装没听到，跟苏菲说：“我不在时，一只蜘蛛都不准杀！”然后，门砰的一声关上。麦可眼带深意地看了卡西法一眼，谈了口气，卡西法则邪恶地咯咯笑起来。

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因为没人跟她解释豪尔去了哪里，所以苏菲的结论是，他又出门去猎取年轻女孩了。她以更正义凛然的精力努力工作，在豪尔警告过她之后，她不敢伤害任何一只蜘蛛，只能用扫帚敲着梁木，叫道：“蜘蛛出来，都给我走开！”蜘蛛四处逃生，蛛网纷纷掉落，然后，她当然得再扫一次地。接着，她跪下来擦地。

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“我希望你能停下来。”麦可做在楼梯上，以免妨碍她工作。

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卡西法躲在炉架后头，喃喃地说：“但愿我没跟你谈那个交易。”

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苏菲用力擦拭。“等一切都干干净净的时候，你们就会开心了。”

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“但是我现在觉得很悲惨！”麦可嘟囔着。

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豪尔一直到很晚才回来，那时苏菲已经又扫又擦到累得不能动了。她弯身坐在椅子上，全身酸痛。麦可扯住豪尔的一只长袖，将他拉到浴室里去，苏菲可以听到他急急切切抱怨个没停，什么‘可怕的老母鸡！’‘一句话都听不进去！’等等，连卡西法也跟着吼叫：“毫尔，阻止她！她会杀了我们两个！”

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但是，当麦可放开他的袖子时，豪尔只问了一句：“她有没有杀死蜘蛛？”

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“当然没有！”苏菲叱道，全身酸痛令她脾气不佳。“它们看到我就四处逃命了。这些蜘蛛是什么？是被你吃掉心脏的女孩吗？”

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豪尔大笑：“不，只是普通的蜘蛛。”说完，他脸上便带着梦幻般的神情上楼去了。麦可叹了口气。进去储物柜里一阵翻找，找出一张旧的折叠床，一张稻草做的床垫，及一些毯子，将它们放在楼梯下腾出的空间，跟苏菲说：“你今晚最好睡这里。”

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“那是否表示豪尔会让我留下来？”苏菲问。

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“我不知道。”麦可不高兴地说：“豪尔从不对任何事做承诺。我在这里待了六个月后，他好象才注意到我住在这里似的，收我当他的学徒。当时，我只是觉得床总好过椅子罢了。”

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“那真是非常谢谢你了。”苏菲感激地说。床当然是比椅子舒服喽。而且，当卡西法半夜里抱怨肚子饿时，她就方便起来给它添木头了。

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接下来的日子，苏菲勤奋地清扫整个城堡。她做的很开心，她告诉自己是在找线索。她清洗窗子、清洗那黏答答的水槽，还要麦可把工作台和架子上的东西都拿下来，好让她可以好好刷洗一番。她把橱柜里的东西全拿出来，梁上挂的全取下来，全部清洁一遍。她觉得连那个骷髅头跟麦可一样，露出长期受苦受难的可怜相了，因为它老是被搬来搬去。

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然后，她在最靠近壁炉的梁上钉上一大张旧床单，强迫卡西法把头低下，好让她清烟囱。卡西法很讨厌这么做。因此，当煤灰飞得一屋子都是，而苏菲必须将屋子重新清一遍时，它幸灾乐祸、笑得非常邪门。苏菲就是这样，非常勤奋，但常常不得其法，不过勤奋其实也是她的方法之一。她估量过了，只要她打扫得够彻底，迟早会找到那些被豪尔藏起来的女孩的灵魂或心脏，或者跟卡西法的契约有关的线索。

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被卡西法保护着的烟囱，依她的想法，应该是一个很好的藏匿处，但是那儿除了大量的煤灰外，什么东西也没有。她将煤灰装在袋子里，放到后院去。后院当然也是一个被她认定为很有可能的藏匿点。

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每次豪尔回来，麦可跟卡西法都跟他大声的抱怨苏菲，但豪尔豪好象都没听进去。他似乎也完全没注意到家里变的多么干净，橱柜里储满了蛋糕、果酱，偶尔还有莴苣。

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而事情就像麦可曾预测的那样，话很快就在避难港传开了。人们前来看苏菲，避难港的人们称她为女巫太太，金斯别利的人则称她为女魔法师，不消说，连王城的人都听说了。经由金斯别利门来拜访她的人，衣着比避难港的人好。但是不管来自哪里，人们在拜访这样重要的人物时总会找借口。因此，苏菲工作到一半时，常常得要停下来跟人点头、微笑、收礼物，或要麦可赶紧为人家弄一个什么咒语。有些礼物是好东西，像是图画啦、长串的贝壳啦，还有实用的围裙，苏菲每天都使用围裙。她把图和贝壳挂在她楼梯下的小窝里，很快地，那地方就很有家的感觉了。

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苏菲知道，当豪尔将她扫地出门时，她将会想念这一切。她越来越担心他会这么做，她知道他不可能一直这样对她视而不见。

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接下来，她清理浴室。那花了她好几天工夫，因为每天豪尔要出去前，都会在里面待上很久。一等他离开，苏菲马上进入那满是蒸汽及香味咒的浴室，喃喃地说：“现在，让我来找找跟契约有关的东西。”但是她的主要目标，其实是架子上那些小包、瓶子和管子。她借口刷架子，把它们一个个拿下来，花许多时间仔细研究观察。标有‘皮肤’‘眼睛’和‘头发’的，是否真的是女孩子身体器官？但是就她观察的结果，那些似乎不过是乳液、粉和化妆品。如果它们一度曾经是女孩身体的一部分，那一定是豪尔用那个‘腐蚀用’管子里的东西将她们腐蚀掉，再由抽水马桶冲走，才会这样干干净净不留痕迹。不过她真心希望它们只是化妆品而已。

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她把东西放会架上，努力刷洗。当晚，当她全身酸痛地坐在椅子上时，卡西法抱怨道，为了她，它已经抽干了一股温泉。

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“温泉在哪里？”苏菲问道，最近她对什么都好奇。

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“大多在避难港的沼泽底下。”卡西法说。“不过你要是继续这样下去，我就必须由荒地取水了。你什么时候才会停止清扫工作，找出帮我打破契约的方法？”

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“很快啦，”苏菲说。“但是如果豪尔老是不在家，我如何能由他那里挖出契约的内容？他总是这么常外出吗？”

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“只有在他追求女人的时候才会。”卡西法说。

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浴室干净得发亮后，苏菲就去刷楼梯和楼上走道。接着她进入楼上开前头的麦可的小房间。这阵子下来，麦可几乎是怀着沮丧的心情，当苏菲是自然灾害般地勉强接受了。此时他却大叫一声，两步并做一步地冲上楼去救他的宝贝，那些宝贝放在他那被虫蛀过的小床下面的一个旧盒子里。他匆匆地保护着盒子离开时，苏菲瞥见一条蓝色的丝带，一个糖做的玫瑰花，上头则是些信函。

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“原来麦可有女朋友！”苏菲边将窗子用力推开边自言自语，这面窗子也是开向避难港，苏菲将他的床铺拖过窗台去透风。苏菲有些惊讶，她居然没追问麦可他女朋友是谁？他又是如何保护她不让豪尔知道？因为苏菲也知道自己近来变得很多管闲事。

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她由麦可房间扫出来的灰尘和垃圾，多到卡西法试着烧毁它们时，几乎被闷死。

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“我会被你害死！你跟豪尔一样没良心！”卡西法用快窒息的声音说话，只有它的绿发和一部分蓝色的前额露在外面。

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麦可将他的宝盒放在工作台抽屉里，然后上锁。“我希望豪尔能听听我们的意见！这次这个女孩为什么需要这么久？”

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次日，苏菲想由后院开始，但是那天避难纲下雨，雨打在窗户上，也拍打着烟囱，法不安地嘶嘶作响。后院也是避难港的一部分，因此当苏菲开门时，那里也下着倾盆大雨。她将围裙围在头上，在院子里略略翻找，在全身还没被淋得湿透前，找到一桶白色涂料及一把大大的油漆刷。她把这些拿到户内，开始漆墙，又在储物柜里找到一个旧梯子，让她得以漆梁木之间的天花板。接下来两天，虽然当豪尔将门转到绿色向下，走向山岗时，那里天气晴朗，有大片云影在石楠上迅速追逐，速度比城堡所能移动得还快，但是，避难港始终下着雨。苏菲油漆了自己的小窝、楼梯、楼上走道，以及麦可的房间。

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“这儿发生了什么事？”第三天，豪尔进门时问道：“看起来好象明亮多了。”

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“是苏菲。”麦可以一种快死的声音说。

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“我早该猜到了，”豪尔说着，消失到浴室里去。

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“他总算注意到了！”麦可跟卡西法耳语：“那女孩一定是投降了。”

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第二天，避难港仍下着毛毛雨。苏菲绑上头巾，卷起袖子，并束紧围裙。她拿着扫帚、水桶以及肥皂，一等豪尔出门，她就像个年老的复仇天使，出发去清理豪尔的房间。

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她将那房间保留到最后，因为她害怕自己不知会发现什么，她一直是连偷窥都不敢偷窥这个房间。那实在愚蠢！她蹒跚着走上楼梯时这么想着。现在情形很清楚了：卡西法包办了整个城堡强大的魔法部分，麦可则包办所有下人的工作，豪尔却只会在外头游荡，抓女孩子，并且像芬妮剥削她一样，剥削麦可和卡西法。苏菲从不觉得豪尔有多可怕，现在则只是轻蔑。

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她上到楼梯走到处时，发现豪尔正站在房门口，一手懒洋洋地倚在门上，完全挡住她的去路。

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“不行，”他很和颜悦色地说：“我要保持肮脏，谢谢。”

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苏菲目瞪口呆地望着他。“你从哪里跑出来的？我明明看到你出门去了。”

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“我故意让你这么想的。”豪尔说：“你已经把卡西法和可怜的麦可整得不能在惨了，合理的推断是，你今天会对我发动进攻。而且，不管卡西法是怎么告诉你的，我可是个巫师哦。难道你不认为我会法术吗？”

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这完全破坏了苏菲原先的假设，但她打死也不愿承认。“年轻人，每个人都知道你是个巫师。”她严厉地说：“但这并不能改变一个事实——那就是，你的城堡是我所见过最脏的地方！”她越过豪尔垂坠、摇动的蓝银色长袖往房间里探看。地毯上像鸟巢一样，满是垃圾。她还瞥见到剥落的墙及一整架子的书，其中有些看来很怪异，但是没有看到成堆被啃啮过的心。不过，它们也可能是藏匿在那个大大的四柱床后面或下面。帏帐满是灰尘而呈灰白色，挡住了她的视线，令她看不到窗外的景色。

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豪尔袖子挡在她脸前。“嘿！少多管闲事。”

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“我才没有！”苏菲抗议道：“那个房间……”

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“是的，你是多管闲事。”豪尔说。“你是一个超好管闲事、超霸道、超爱干净的恐怖老女人。请你节制一点好不好？你让我们非上痛苦。”

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“但这房子脏得像猪舍，”苏菲抗议道：“叫我不管我会受不了啦！”

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“你可以的。”豪尔说：“我喜欢我的房间维持原状。你必须承认，如果我想住在猪舍里，那也是我的权利。现在，下楼去，找些别的事情做。拜托，我讨厌跟人争吵。”

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苏菲无技可施，只好蹒跚地拖着水桶在她身边发出当啷声走下楼去。她有些发抖，她很惊讶豪尔居然没当场叫她滚蛋。但既然他没有这么做，她就开始思索再来要做些什么。

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她打开楼梯旁的门，发现小雨几乎全停了，于是冲到院子里去，开始精力充沛地将犹滴着雨滴的成堆垃圾加以分类。

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她听到一声金属撞击声，豪尔又出现了，在苏菲接着要搬动的一大片锈铁片中间，她被绊了一下。

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“这里也不成。”他说：“你真是恐怖分子耶！我知道每样东西的位置，如果你把它弄整洁了，我就会找不到我使用运输咒时所需要的东西。”

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所以这里某处也许藏有一道灵魂或一盒嚼过的心脏？素油菲想着。她觉得非常挫败，对豪尔吼道：“可是将东西弄整洁是我来这里的目的！”

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“那你必须为你的生活寻找新目标。”豪尔说。有那么一会，他好象也要发脾气了，他那奇怪的浅色眼睛直瞪着苏菲。但是他控制住自己的脾气，说：“现在，进屋去吧，你这个过动的老家伙，找别的事来玩，别惹我生气。我讨厌生气。”

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苏菲两只瘦瘦的手臂在胸前交叉，她不喜欢被玻璃弹珠似的眼睛瞪着。“你当然讨厌生气！”她反唇相讥：“你讨厌任何令人不愉快的事，对不对？你是泥鳅大王。你就是这种人！任何事只要你不喜欢，你就脚底抹油溜走。”

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豪尔勉强挤出一个微笑。“现在我们都了解彼此的缺点了。回屋里去。去、去呀！”他对着苏菲逼近，挥手要她往门的方向走。挥动的袖子勾到生锈金属片边缘，扯了一下，破了。“该死！”豪尔拉起蓝银色的袖子，说：“看你害的！”

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“我可以把它补好。”苏菲说。

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豪尔再度白了她一眼。“你又来了。你很爱当奴役是不是？”他把破掉的地方夹在右手手指间，拉过去，手放开时，破损的地方已经完全看不出痕迹了。“看，”他说：“你懂了吗？”

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苏菲蹒跚地回到屋内，感觉像是上了一课。巫师显然不需依平常方式做事。豪尔已证明给她看，他是一个货真价实的巫师。“他为何不把我赶出去呢？”她一半问自己，一半问麦可。

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“我也不明白。”麦可说。“不过，我想他是以卡西法为指标。大多数来这里的人不是注意到卡西法，就是怕它怕得要死。”

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When Sophie woke up, daylight was streaming across her. Since Sophie remembered no windows at all in the castle, her first notion was that she had fallen asleep trimming hats and dreamed of leaving home. The fire in front of her had sunk to rosy charcoal and white ash, which convinced her that she had certainly dreamed there was a fire demon. But her very first movements told her that there were some things she had not dreamed. There were sharp cracks from all over her body.

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“Ow!” she exclaimed. “I ache all over!” The voice that exclaimed was a weak, cracked piping. She put her knobby hands to her face and felt wrinkles. At that, she discovered she had been in a state of shock all yesterday. She was very angry indeed with the Witch of the Waste for doing this to her, hugely, enormously angry. “Sailing into shops and turning people old!” she exclaimed. “Oh, what I won’t do to her!”

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Her anger made her jump up in a salvo of cracks and creaks and hobble over to the unexpected window. It was above the workbench. To her utter astonishment, the view from it was a view of a dockside town. She could see a sloping, unpaved street, lined with small, rather poor-looking houses, and masts sticking up beyond the roofs. Beyond the masts she caught a glimmer of the sea, which was something she had never seen in her life before.

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“Wherever am I?” Sophie asked the skull standing on the bench. “I don’t expect you to answer that, my friend,” she added hastily, remembering this was a wizard’s castle, and she turned round to take a look at the room.

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It was quite a small room, with heavy black beams in the ceiling. By daylight it was amazingly dirty. The stones of the floor were stained and greasy, ash was piled within the fender, and cobwebs hung in dusty droops from the beams. There was a layer of dust on the skull. Sophie absently wiped it off as she went to peer into the sink beside the workbench. She shuddered at the pink-and-gray slime in it and the white slime dripping from the pump above it. Howl obviously did not care what squalor his servants lived in.

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The rest of the castle seemed to be beyond one or the other of the four low black doors around the room. Sophie opened the nearest, in the end wall beyond the bench. There was a large bathroom beyond it. In some ways it was a bathroom you might find normally only in a palace, full of luxuries such as an indoor toilet, a shower stall, an immense bath with clawed feet, and mirrors on every wall. But it was even dirtier than the other room. Sophie winced form the toilet, flinched at the color of the bath, recoiled form the green weed growing in the shower, and quite easily avoided looking at her shriveled shape in the mirrors because the glass was plastered with blobs and runnels of nameless substances. The nameless substances themselves were crowded onto a very large shelf over the bath. They were in jars, boxes, tubes, and hundreds of tattered brown packets and paper bags. The biggest jar had a name. It was called DRYING POWER in crooked letters. Sophie was not sure whether there should be a D in that or not. She picked up a packet at random. It had SKIN scrawled on it, and she put it back hurriedly. Another jar said EYES in the same scrawl. A tube stated FOR DECAY.

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“It seems to work too,” Sophie murmured, looking into the washbasin with a shiver. Water ran into the basin when she turned a blue-green knob that might have been brass and washed some of the decay away. Sophie rinsed her hands and face in the water without touching the basin, but she did not have the courage to use DRYING POWER. She dried the water with her skirt and then set off to the next black door.

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That one opened onto a flight of rickety wooden stairs, Sophie heard someone move up there and shut the door hurriedly. It seemed only to lead to a sort of loft anyway. She hobbled to the next door. By now she was moving quite easily. She was a hale old woman, as she discovered yesterday.

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The third door opened onto a poky backyard with high brick walls. It contained a big stack of logs, and higgledy-piggledy heaps of what seemed to be scrap iron, wheels, buckets, metal sheeting, wire, mounded almost to the tops of the walls. Sophie shut that door too, rather puzzled, because it did not seem to match the castle at all. There was no castle to be seen above the brick walls. They ended at the sky. Sophie could only think that this part was the round side where the invisible wall had stopped her the night before.

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She opened the fourth door and it was just a broom cupboard, with two fine but dusty velvet cloaks hanging on the brooms. Sophie shut it again, slowly. The only other door was in the wall with the window, and that was the door she had come in by last night. She hobbled over and cautiously opened that.

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She stood for a moment looking out at a slowly moving view of the hills, watching heather slide past underneath the door, feeling the wind blow her wispy hair, and listening to the rumble and grind of the big black stones as the castle moved. Then she shut the door and went to the window. And there was the seaport town again. It was no picture. A woman had opened a door opposite and was sweeping dust into the street. Behind that house a grayish canvas sail was going up a mast in brisk jerks, disturbing a flock of seagulls into flying round and round against the glimmering sea.

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“I don’t understand,” Sophie told the human skull. Then, because the fire looked almost out, she went and put on a couple of logs and raked away some of the ash.

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Green flames climbed between the logs, small and curly, and shot up into a long blue face with flaming green hair. “Good morning,” said the fire demon. “Don’t forget we have a bargain.”

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So none of it was dream. Sophie was not much given to crying, but she said in the chair for quite a while staring at a blurred and sliding fire demon, and did not pay much attention to the sounds of Michael getting up, until she found him standing beside her, looking embarrassed and a little exasperated.

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“You’re still here,” he said. “Is something the matter?”

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Sophie sniffed. “I’m old,” she began.

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But it was just as the Witch had said and the fire demon had guessed. Michael said cheerfully, “Well, it comes to us all in time. Would you like some breakfast?”

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Sophie discovered she was a very hale old woman indeed. After only bread and cheese at lunchtime yesterday, she was ravenous. “Yes!” she said, and when Michael went to the closet in the wall, she sprang up and peered over his shoulder to see what there was to eat.

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“I’m afraid there’s only bread and cheese,” Michael said rather stiffly.

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“But there’s a whole basket of eggs in there!” Sophie said. “And isn’t that bacon? What about a hot drink as well? Where’s your kettle?”

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“There isn’t one,” Michael said. “Howl’s the only one who can cook.”

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“I can cook,” said Sophie. “Unhook that frying pan and I’ll show you.”

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She reached for the large black pan hanging on the closet wall, in spite of Michael trying to prevent her. “You don’t understand,” Michael said. “It’s Calcifer, the fire demon. He won’t bend down his head to be cooked on for anyone but Howl.”

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Sophie turned and looked at the fire demon. He flickered back at her wickedly. “I refuse to be exploited,” he said.

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“You mean,” Sophie said to Michael, “that you have to do without even a hot drink unless Howl’s here?” Michael gave an embarrassed nod. “Then you’re the one that’s being exploited!” said Sophie. “Give that here.” She wrenched the pan from Michael’s resisting fingers, plonked the bacon into it, popped a handy wooden spoon into the egg basket, and marched with the lot to the fireplace. “Now, Calcifer,” she said, “let’s have no more nonsense. Bend down your head.”

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“You can’t make me!” crackled the fire demon.

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“Oh, yes I can!” Sophie crackled back, with the ferocity that had often stopped both her sisters in mid-fight. “If you don’t, I shall pour water on you. Or I shall pick up the tongs and take away both your logs,” she added, as she got herself creaking onto her knees by the hearth. There she whispered, “Or I can go back on our bargain, or tell Howl about it, can’t I?”

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“Oh, curses!” Calcifer spat. “Why did you let her in here, Michael?” Sulkily he bent his blue face forward until all that could be seen of him was a ring of curly green flames dancing on the logs.

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“Thank you,” Sophie said, and slapped the heavy pan onto the green ring to make sure Calcifer did not suddenly rise up again.

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“I hope your bacon burns,” Calcifer said, muffled under the pan.

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Sophie slapped slices of bacon into the pan. It was good and hot. The bacon sizzled, and she had to wrap her skirt round her hand to hold the handle. The door opened, but she did not notice because of the sizzling. “Don’t be silly,” she told Calcifer. “And hold still because I want to break in the eggs.”

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“Oh, hello, Howl,” Michael said helplessly.

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Sophie turned round at that, rather hurriedly. She stared. The tall young fellow in a flamboyant blue-and-silver suit who had just come in stopped in the act of leaning a guitar in the corner. He brushed the fair hair from his rather curious glass-green eyes and stared back. His long, angular face was perplexed.

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“Who on earth are you?” said Howl. “Where have I seen you before?”

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“I am a total stranger,” Sophie lied firmly. After all, Howl had only met her long enough to call her a mouse before, so it was almost true. She ought to have been thanking her stars for the lucky escape she’d had then, she supposed, but in fact her main thought was, Good gracious! Wizard Howl is only a child in his twenties, for all his wickedness! It made such a difference to be old, she thought as she turned the bacon over in the pan. And she would have died rather than let this overdressed boy know she was the girl he had pitied on May Day. Hearts and souls did not enter into it. Howl was not going to know.

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“She says her name’s Sophie,” Michael said. “She came last night.”

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“How did she make Calcifer bend down?” said Howl.

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“She bullied me!” Calcifer said in a piteous, muffled voice from under the sizzling pan.

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“Not many people can do that,” Howl said thoughtfully. He popped his guitar in the corner and came over to the hearth. The smell of hyacinths mixed with the smell of bacon as he shoved Sophie firmly aside. “Calcifer doesn’t like anyone but me to cook on him,” he said, kneeling down and wrapping one trailing sleeve round his hand to hold the pan. “Pass me two more slices of bacon and six eggs please, and tell me why you’ve come here.”

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Sophie stared at the blue jewel hanging from Howl’s ear and passed him egg after egg. “Why I came, young man?” she said. It was obvious after what she had seen of the castle. “I came because I’m your new cleaning lady, of course.”

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“Are you indeed?” Howl said, cracking the eggs one-handed and tossing the shells among the logs, where Calcifer seemed to be eating them with a lot of snarling and gobbling. “Who says you are?”

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“I do,” said Sophie, and she added piously, “I can clean the dirt from this place even if I can’t clean you from your wickedness, young man.”

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“Howl’s not wicked,” Michael said.

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“Yes I am,” Howl contradicted him. “You forget just how wicked I’m being at the moment, Michael.” He jerked his chin at Sophie. “It you‘re so anxious to be of use, my good woman, find some knives and forks and clear the bench.”

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There were tall stools under the workbench. Michael was pulling them out to sit on and pushing aside all the things on top of it to make room for some knives and forks he had taken from the drawer in the side of it. Sophie went to help him. She had not expected Howl to welcome her, of course, but he had not even so far agreed to let her stay beyond breakfast. Since Michael did not seem to need help, Sophie shuffled over to her stick and put it slowly and showily in the broom cupboard. When that did not seem to attract Howl’s attention, she said, “You can take me on for a month’s trial, if you like.”

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Wizard Howl said nothing but “Plates, please, Michael,” and stood up holding the smoking pan. Calcifer sprang up with a roar of relief and blazed high in the chimney.

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Sophie made another attempt to pin the Wizard down. “If I’m going to be cleaning here for the next month,” she said, “I’d like to know where the rest of the castle is. I can only find this one room and the bathroom.”

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To her surprise, both Michael and the Wizard roared with laughter.

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It was not until they had almost finished breakfast that Sophie discovered what made them laugh. Howl was not only hard to pin down. He seemed to dislike answering any questions at all. Sophie gave up asking him and asked Michael instead.

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“Tell her,” said Howl. ‘It will stop her pestering.”

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“There isn’t any more of the castle,” Michael said, “except what you’ve seen and two bedrooms upstairs.”

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“What?” Sophie exclaimed.

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Howl and Michael laughed again. “Howl and Calcifer invented the castle,” Michael explained, “and Calcifer keeps it going. The inside of it is really just Howl’s old house in Porthaven, which is the only real part.”

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“But Porthaven’s miles down near the sea!” Sophie said. “I call that too bad! What do you mean by having this great, ugly castle rushing about the hills and frightening everyone in Market Chipping to death?”

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Howl shrugged. “What an outspoken old woman you are! I’ve reached that stage in my career when I need to impress everyone with my power and wickedness. I can’t have the King thinking well of me. And last year I offended someone very powerful and I need to keep out of their way.”

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It seemed a funny way to avoid someone, but Sophie supposed wizards had different standards from ordinary people. And she shortly discovered that the castle had other peculiarities. They had finished eating and Michael was piling the plates on the slimy sink beside the bench when there came a loud, hollow knocking at the door.

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Calcifer blazed up. “Kingsbury door!”

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Howl, who was on his way to the bathroom, went to the door instead. There was a square wooden knob above the door, set into the lintel, with a dab of paint on each of its four sides. At that moment, there was a green blob on the side that was the bottom, but Howl turned the knob around so that it had a red blob downward before he opened the door.

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Outside stood a personage wearing a stiff white wig and a wide hat on top of that. He was clothed in scarlet and purple and gold, and he held up a little staff decorated with ribbons like an infant maypole. He bowed. Scents of cloves and orange blossom blew into the room.

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“His Majesty the King presents his compliments and sends payment for two thousand pair of seven-league boots,” this person said.

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Behind him Sophie had glimpses of a coach waiting in a street full of sumptuous houses covered with painted carvings, and towers and spires and domes beyond that, of a splendor she had barely before imagined. She was sorry it took so little time for the person at the door to hand over a long, silken, chinking purse, and for Howl to take the purse, bow back, and shut the door. Howl turned the square knob back so that the green blob was downward again and stowed the long purse in his pocket. Sophie saw Michael’s eyes follow the purse in an urgent, worried way.

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Howl went straight to the bathroom then, calling out, “I need hot water in here, Calcifer!” and was gone for a long, long time.

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Sophie could not restrain her curiosity. “Whoever was that at the door?” she asked Michael. “Or do I mean wherever?”

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“That door gives on Kingsbury,” Michael said, “where the King lives. I think that man was the Chancellor’s clerk. And,” he added worriedly to Calcifer, “I do wish he hadn’t given Howl all that money.”

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“Is Howl going to let me stay here?” Sophie asked.

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“If he is, you’ll never pin him down,” Michael answered. “He hates being pinned down to anything.”

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