ARC 1
HOWL'S MOVING CASTLE
✿
The first thing Yume noticed was the smell—burnt sugar and iron, sharp and strange, clinging to the back of her throat like a half-remembered dream. Her eyes fluttered open to a riot of color: saffron-striped awnings flapping above market stalls, baskets piled high with pomegranates the size of her fists, and a sky so violently blue it hurt to look at. She lay sprawled in the middle of a cobblestone street, her modern jeans and faded band tee starkly out of place among the swirling silk gowns and leather aprons of passersby.
"Oi, love! You planning to nap all day, or can a man offer a hand?"
A shadow fell over her, broad and imposing. Four soldiers in crisp crimson uniforms loomed like a wall of muscle and brass buttons, their grins sharp as the sabers hanging from their belts. The tallest one crouched, his gauntleted hand hovering inches from her face. His breath smelled of cloves and cheap ale.
"Pretty thing like you shouldn't be lying about in the filth," he drawled, fingers brushing a strand of hair from her cheek. His comrades chuckled, boots scuffing closer.
Yume scrambled backward, palms scraping stone. "I-I'm fine, thank you," she said, voice steadier than she felt. Her heart thrummed against her ribs. Where was this? How did she get here? The last thing she remembered was falling asleep to the hum of her apartment's AC, textbooks strewn across her bed.
The soldier's grin widened. "Now that's no way to treat a gentleman's kindness." He seized her wrist, calloused thumb digging into her pulse point. "Let's get you somewhere…quieter."
"Unhand her."
The voice cut through the marketplace din like a scalpel—smooth, amused, and utterly cold.
The soldiers stiffened. Yume's captor didn't let go, but his grip slackened as a figure materialized from the crowd.
He moved like smoke. Silver embroidery glinted on his obsidian coat as he strode forward, the morning light catching in his hair—not blond, not brown, but a shifting cascade of honey and burnt amber, as if someone had bottled autumn itself. His eyes were the impossible green of deep forest shadows, crinkling at the edges as he smiled. A wizard's smile. Dangerous. Delicious.
"Howl," the tallest soldier spat, though he released Yume's arm. "This isn't your business."
"Ah, but you're wrong." Howl plucked a plum from a nearby fruit cart, tossing it idly in one gloved hand. "You see, this lovely creature happens to be mine."
Yume's mouth fell open. The soldiers blinked in unison.
"Yours?" the man scoffed. "Since when?"
Howl took a bite of the plum, juice glistening on his lips. "Since approximately…" He glanced at an ornate pocket watch that hadn't been there a second ago. "…three hours ago? Terribly forgetful of me not to introduce her properly." He stepped past the soldiers as if they were furniture, offering Yume a hand. His gloves smelled of ozone and something sweet. "Darling, you really must stop wandering off. I told you the market's full of vermin."
The endearment curled warm in her stomach, absurd and terrifying. Yume opened her mouth to protest, but Howl's fingers tightened imperceptibly around hers as he pulled her to her feet.
"Careful," he murmured, thumb brushing her knuckles. "Play along, little rabbit, or we'll both be gutted by sundown."
The soldier's blade hissed from its sheath. "You think you can just—"
Howl snapped his fingers.
The world flipped.
One moment they stood in the dusty square; the next, Yume's back pressed against the sun-warmed bricks of an alleyway, Howl's arm braced beside her head. The soldiers' shouts echoed faintly around the corner, fading as they stormed off in the wrong direction.
"You," Yume breathed, "teleported us."
Howl arched a brow. "Disappointed? Most women swoon when I whisk them away." He leaned closer, close enough that she could count the gold flecks in his eyes. "Though I must say, you're taking this rather well for someone who just fell out of the sky."
Her blood turned to ice. "What?"
"No one else noticed, of course." His smile turned razor-edged. "But I've a knack for spotting things that don't belong. Like you." A gloved finger tapped her collarbone. "No magic. No realm-shift residue. Just…ordinary. Which is rather extraordinary, isn't it?"
Yume swallowed. His fingertip burned through her shirt. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Liar." Howl straightened, adjusting his cuffs with a flourish. "But no matter. You'll tell me eventually—they all do." He offered his arm, the picture of courtly grace. "Shall we?"
She hesitated. Somewhere beyond the alley, a lute player began a jaunty tune. The scent of cardamom buns wafted from a baker's window. Normal things. Safe things.
Howl sighed. "You could always go back to our crimson-clad friends. Though between us?" He leaned in, lips grazing the shell of her ear. "I'm much prettier to look at."
Against all reason, Yume laughed—a startled, glittering sound. Howl's eyes lit with triumph.
"There she is," he purred. "Now come along. Calcifer's been dreadfully dull lately, and I do so hate cleaning my own castle."
"Castle?"
But he was already striding away, coat flaring like raven's wings. Yume hovered for a heartbeat, then hurried after him. Behind them, the marketplace buzzed on, not a single head turning to mark the girl who'd appeared from nowhere.
Except one.
A hooded figure watched from the shadows of a spice stall, fingers trailing over a jar of star anise. When Howl glanced back—casual, careless—the stranger melted into the crowd, leaving only a whisper of frost on the cobblestones.
Unseen.
Unremarked.
For now.
The chaos of the marketplace dissolved into quieter streets as Howl led her past tanneries and blacksmith forges, his boots clicking a leisurely rhythm against the cobblestones. Yume's mind raced. 'Fell out of the sky? Realm-shift residue?' None of it made sense, yet the proof strutted ahead of her in velvet and swagger.
"You're staring," Howl said without turning.
"You kidnapped me."
"Rescued, darling. Semantics matter." He paused at a wrought-iron gate choked with ivy, producing a key that glimmered with inner fire. "Besides, you followed willingly."
"Because you threatened me with soldiers!"
"Threatened?" Howl pressed a hand to his chest, the picture of wounded nobility. "I offered an elegant solution to mutual problems. You wanted escape; I wanted…" His gaze slid over her, slow as honey. "…amusement."
Yume crossed her arms. "You're insufferable."
"So I've been told." The gate swung open with a shriek of rusted hinges. Beyond lay not a garden, but a warped patch of air—a portal shimmering like heat over asphalt. Howl bowed with mock grandeur. "After you, my accidental guest."
Her stomach lurched. "What's on the other side?"
"Home." His smile softened, just for an instant. "Or the closest thing I've got."
Wind stirred the ivy, carrying the salt-tang of distant oceans. Somewhere a bell tower chimed noon. Yume squared her shoulders and stepped through.
The world folded.
Then exploded.
She stumbled into a room that defied physics—a cathedral of clashing eras, with crystal chandeliers dripping over steam-powered engines and Persian rugs layered atop concrete floors. A fire demon crackled in a hearth shaped like a dragon's maw, its blue flames hissing, "Who's the snack?"
Howl strode past the creature, flinging his coat onto a taxidermied gryphon. "Calcifer, manners. Yume's our new…" He glanced back, eyes glinting. "…project."
Yume opened her mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.
The ceiling above her shifted, gears grinding as the entire castle lurched sideways. She fell against a sofa upholstered in what appeared to be dragon scales.
Howl laughed, bright and unguarded. "First time walking in a body that moves, is it? Don't worry—" He caught her elbow as the floor tilted again, his touch steadying. "—you'll get your sea legs."
"Legs?" squeaked the fire demon. "She's got excellent legs. Can I eat her shoes?"
"No," said Howl and Yume in unison.
A door slammed upstairs. Footsteps pattered down a spiral staircase as a young woman appeared, her apron dusted with flour and her silver-streaked hair braided tightly. "Howl, you absolute fool, did you bring another stray—" She froze, wooden spoon raised like a weapon.
Howl grinned. "Sophie, meet Yume. Yume, Sophie—our resident pessimist and the only reason this castle hasn't collapsed into the sea."
Sophie's gaze narrowed. "Where did you find her?"
"In a gutter."
"Falling from the sky," Yume corrected.
"Same thing, really."
Sophie massaged her temples. "We're out of milk."
"Then we'll buy milk."
"With what money?"
Howl snapped his fingers. A gold coin appeared, vanished, reappeared behind Sophie's ear. She swatted at it.
Yume's head spun. The fire demon cackled. Somewhere in the walls, pipes groaned as the castle took another lumbering step.
And Howl—Howl watched her, that infuriating smile playing on his lips, as if her bewilderment was the finest entertainment he'd had in decades.
★
The castle's interior breathed. Gears groaned in the walls like ancient beasts stirring from sleep, pipes hissing plumes of steam that smelled of burnt lavender. Yume steadied herself against the dragon-scale sofa, her fingers brushing ridges that pulsed faintly with heat. It is alive, she realized with a jolt. The furniture itself seemed alive.
Sophie jabbed her spoon toward Howl. "You can't keep dragging in strays like lost kittens. We're not a boarding house!"
"Ah, but kittens are cute," Howl said, plucking the spoon from her grip. With a flick of his wrist, it transformed into a silver feather that drifted to the floor. "Besides, Yume's no stray. She's a mystery." His gaze slid to Yume, lingering on the band logo peeling across her shirt. "Aren't you, little rabbit?"
Yume ignored the nickname, her attention snagged by the fire demon. Calcifer's blue flames rippled like liquid sapphire, his voice crackling with amusement. "She smells like lightning and plastic. What are you?"
"Human," Yume said, though the word felt suddenly inadequate.
"Debatable," Howl murmured, circling her now like a hawk assessing prey. "Your world—tell me about it."
"Why?"
"Because I'm fascinated." He plucked an apple from thin air, tossing it between gloved hands. "You've no magic, yet you crossed realms. No training, yet you walk through my wards like they're cobwebs." His smile sharpened. "Either you're a genius…or a bomb."
The apple froze mid-toss. Sophie sucked in a breath. Even Calcifer's flames stilled.
Yume straightened, meeting Howl's verdant stare. "I'm just a student. I was studying, I fell asleep, and then—" She gestured helplessly at the shifting walls. "—this."
Howl bit into the apple with a crisp crunch. "Lies bore me, darling."
"It's the truth!"
"Then your truth is defective." He flicked the fruit into the hearth. Calcifer devoured it with a sound like shattering glass. "No matter. We'll dissect you properly after tea."
Sophie groaned. "There is no tea. The ration tokens expired, and someone—" She glared at Howl, "—traded our last crate of blackleaf for perfume."
"A necessary sacrifice," Howl said, sniffing his wrist where a hint of bergamot lingered. "Smelling good is half the battle when seducing royalty."
Yume's stomach growled loudly. Three pairs of eyes snapped to her.
"Right," Sophie said, wiping flour-streaked hands on her apron. "Come to the kitchen. There's day-old bread and…whatever this is." She prodded a gelatinous lump quivering on a chipped plate.
Howl wrinkled his nose. "Calcifer's attempt at custard, I believe."
"It hissed at me," Sophie said.
Yume hesitated, then followed Sophie through an archway into a kitchen that looked like a mad scientist's laboratory. Copper kettles bubbled with unnamed liquids, a grandfather clock ticked inside a birdcage, and a teapot shaped like a frog croaked mournfully on the stove.
"Don't touch anything that glows," Sophie warned, slicing into a loaf of bread so dense it could've been used as a weapon. "Howl's 'experiments' have a habit of biting."
Yume hovered by the table, watching Sophie's brisk movements. "Can I help?"
Sophie paused, then shoved a knife into her hands. "Cut the cheese. And pray it doesn't cut back."
The "cheese" was a veined, pulsating wedge that squealed when Yume touched it. She yelped, nearly dropping the knife.
Howl leaned in the doorway, laughing. "Living Roquefort. Charming, isn't it?"
"You're vile," Sophie said, thumping a pot onto the stove.
"But resourceful! That cheese won a beauty pageant in Strangia."
Yume gritted her teeth and sawed off a slice. The cheese whimpered. "This is barbaric."
"Welcome to Ingary," Howl said, plucking the knife from her grip. With a whispered word, the blade glowed white-hot. The cheese stopped moving. "There. Guilt-free gluttony."
They ate at a table cobbled from driftwood and clock parts, Calcifer's flames casting wavering shadows on the walls. Yume's bread tasted of cinnamon and woodsmoke, the cheese sharp and strangely addictive. Howl picked at his food, more interested in studying her.
"Your clothes," he said suddenly. "That symbol." He traced a finger in the air, mimicking the band logo on her shirt. "A clan sigil?"
"A band. Musicians," Yume said.
"Ah! Minstrels." Howl's eyes lit. "Do they wield lyres enchanted with tempest magic? Drums that summon earthquakes?"
"More like…loud guitars and bad poetry."
"How pedestrian." He sighed. "Still, I'd enjoy hearing you describe it. In detail. Over wine."
Sophie snorted. "She's not one of your conquests, Howl."
"Aren't all women conquests, in their own way?"
Yume stabbed her cheese. "Not this one."
Howl's grin turned feral. "Challenge accepted."
The castle shuddered violently. Plates skidded across the table as the walls reconfigured with a sound like grinding bones. Yume grabbed the edge of the table, her chair sprouting mechanical legs that skittered sideways.
"Steady," Howl said, though he made no move to help. "It's just shifting course."
"To where?" Yume demanded.
"Wherever the wind whispers." He winked. "Or wherever I fancy."
Sophie stood, gathering plates with the practiced ease of someone who'd long ago stopped fearing death by crockery. "We're low on firewood. And sanity."
"I'll get more of both," Howl said, rising with fluid grace. His coat swirled around him like liquid night. "Come, Yume. Let's stretch those modern legs of yours."
She balked. "Where?"
"To the one place even magic fears." He flung open a door that hadn't existed a moment prior, revealing not a room, but a vertiginous drop into roiling clouds. "The roof."
Wind howled through the doorway, tearing at Yume's hair. Howl stepped out onto empty air—and didn't fall.
"Trust me," he said, extending a hand.
"Absolutely not."
"Pity." His fingers snapped.
The world inverted.
Yume screamed as gravity died. Her feet left the floor, the kitchen upending as she floated toward the door. Howl laughed, catching her wrist as she careened past.
"Breathe, little rabbit," he said, pulling her into the sky.
They stood atop the castle as it clanked across an endless moor, its chicken-legged gait sending tremors through the earth far below. The wind carried the scent of heather and distant rain. Howl's coat billowed like a stormcloud, his hair a wildfire against the twilight.
"Why did you bring me here?" Yume shouted over the gale.
"Because," Howl said, his voice suddenly devoid of mockery, "perspective is the antidote to panic." He swept a hand across the horizon, where mountains floated upside-down above a mirror-still lake. "Look. Really look."
And she did.
The world unfolded in layers—a patchwork of realms stitched together by magic and madness. Forests grew sideways from cliff faces, towns clung to the undersides of clouds, and great winged shadows circled a sun that pulsed like a heartbeat.
"This…" Yume whispered.
"Is impossible?" Howl leaned close, his breath warm against her ear. "So are you."
The castle lurched. Yume stumbled, but Howl's arm snaked around her waist, pulling her flush against him. Her back pressed to his chest, his heartbeat a steady counter-rhythm to her own frantic pulse.
"Careful," he murmured. "The world's edges are sharper here."
She should've pulled away. Wanted to pull away. But the sky yawned beneath them, vast and hungry, and Howl's grip was the only anchor in a realm without rules.
"Why rescue me?" she asked. "Really?"
His silence stretched long enough that she turned to look at him—and found his usual smirk absent. In its place: something raw, fleeting.
"Let's call it professional curiosity," he said at last, mask sliding back into place. "Wizards do so hate unsolved puzzles."
The moment shattered as Calcifer's voice boomed from a chimney stack: "HOWL! Your cursed bathroom's flooding again!"
Howl groaned. "Duty calls." He released her, stepping back into thin air. "Coming, dear?"
Yume eyed the drop. "I'll take the stairs."
"Spoilsport." He snapped his fingers—
—and she fell.
For one heart-stopping second, the moor rushed up to meet her. Then she landed softly on the kitchen rug, legs folded beneath her like a dropped marionette.
Sophie peered down, unimpressed. "He does that."
Yume's laugh bordered on hysterical. "Does what? Redefine physics?"
"Daily." Sophie tossed her a rag.
They cleaned in companionable silence, Yume scrubbing sauce stains that moved to avoid her sponge. Every so often, the castle's groans deepened, walls contracting like a living lung.
"Does it ever…stop?" Yume asked.
"The moving?" Sophie wrung out a mop. "Only when Howl's running from something. Or toward something. Or bored." She shrugged. "It's how he thinks."
"And you? Why stay?"
Sophie's gaze drifted to a small portrait on the mantel—a younger Howl, laughing with a boy who shared his eyes. "Someone has to keep him from burning the world down for fun."
A door slammed upstairs. Howl's voice echoed through the pipes: "Yume! Your world—what's air conditioning?"
She blinked. "How did he—?"
"He's been rifling through your mind since you arrived," Sophie said matter-of-factly. "Don't worry. He'll get distracted by his own hair soon enough."
Sure enough, Howl descended moments later, shirt streaked with grease and eyes alight. "Mechanical weather! No incantations, no familiars—just machines." He gripped Yume's shoulders. "Your people are geniuses. Mad, reckless geniuses."
"Says the man who turned a spoon into a feather," Yume deadpanned.
Howl's grin turned wicked. "Darling, I can turn you into a feather."
"Try it and lose the hand."
He laughed, bright and startled. "Oh, I'll wear you down eventually."
Night fell in a cascade of indigo and ember. The castle anchored itself atop a cliff overlooking a star-flecked sea, waves crashing in time with Calcifer's snores. Yume stood at a diamond-paned window, watching bioluminescent birds wheel through the dark.
A floorboard creaked. Howl leaned against the wall beside her, holding two chipped mugs. "Milkless cocoa. Sophie's peace offering."
She accepted it, the warmth seeping into her palms. "Why can't anyone else see it? That I'm not from here?"
Howl sipped his drink, gaze fixed on the horizon. "Most people see only what they expect. A girl in odd clothes? Eccentric. A foreigner. A madwoman." His shoulder brushed hers. "But magic—true magic is about seeing the cracks in reality. The stitches holding worlds together."
"And you see them?"
"I am them." His smile held no mirth.
They stood in silence, the cocoa cooling between Yume's hands. When Howl spoke again, his voice was barely audi