Regular disclaimer applies. I only own Jessica, Nathaniel and Victoria (and maybe a few other random people).

Chapter 13: The Scab and the Story

It was the waiting that was killing him. He could handle the cold uncomfortable floor, the lack of proper bedding. He could even ignore the dumb guards to a certain extent. But trapped, with no way to help figure out how to fix things? It was killing him.

"Hey!" Markl yelled out of the bars. "Let me out!"

He paused and listened for some sign of being heard. When none came he started again. "Let me out! I didn't do anything wrong! Ask Jessica!" He took a breath. "HEYYYYY!"

A relatively small metal like object hit the bars hard, inches from where his fingers were curled. The object clattered to the floor and he saw that it was a rusted metal cup.

"God, you're irritating. Shut up, will you? Some of us are trying to sleep." A male voice rumbled from the cell across from his. Someone was lying down on the floor, with a pile of rags strung over them.

"How long have you been there?" Markl asked, surprised. He hadn't noticed anyone in the cell before now.

"Ha! That's a good question! Let's see…" The man sat up and Markl saw that the man's face was half covered in a bushy brown beard. He was muttering to himself, apparently counting how long he'd been there. After a moment he stopped muttering and was staring at his own fingers. "I lost count." He replied morosely, letting his hands fall back into his lap.

"Roughly, then."

"About six years."

Markl choked, "Why?!"

"Same as you, kiddo. 'I didn't do anything wrong'. But as the guards love to say, 'We don't care.'."

Markl huffed in exasperation, "Okay, well, what are you accused of doing?"

"That's none of your business, kid." He replied gruffly. "In any case, they're not going to let you out, no matter how much you scream. That is, unless they plan on killing you. So do me a favor and keep quiet or cause a real commotion. Like that one guy did."

"One guy?" Markl asked, interested.

"Yup. One guy."

Markl waited for the man to elaborate, but he didn't. Instead he started to pick at a scab on the side of his arm.

"Oh, come ON." Markl wailed. "You can't just say something like that and not continue!"

The man looked up and appeared to grin beneath his bushy beard, "Oh really? Where in the rule book of life does it say that? Nowhere, that's where."

"What else have you got to do, except tell me what happened?" Markl pointed out, exasperatedly.

The man held up his arm to show Markl the scab.

"That's disgusting."

The man shrugged, "You asked me what else I had to do."

Markl was sure that the man was leading him on now. Boredom, especially six years of it, was probably enough to scramble more than a few brains. He probably thought it was entertaining to lead on the new younger inmates. For kicks and tickles, or whatever.

"I don't care anymore." He said, turning around to put his back to the bars and sliding down them.

There was a long pause where Markl waited for the man to take the bait. He was just about to start wondering if the ploy had failed when he spoke.

"This guy that was here the other day? He was a great wizard." He paused, no doubt waiting for Markl to beginning asking redundant questions. Markl knew that staying quiet, however, would probably goad the man into saying more than asking questions would, however, because it would give him an opportunity to drag out the story and taunt Markl.

"I bet you're wondering how I knew he was a great wizard, huh? Well, he could do all sorts of things to befuddle the guards and slither out of things and stuff like that in general. Once he even tricked one of the guards into opening his cell door by disguising himself as the head guard. He would have gotten away with it if the real thing hadn't walked in right then."

He paused again, for longer this time, but Markl refused to budge. His mind was a flurry with questions that begged to be voiced but he bit his lips to keep them to himself. Self control wasn't really one of his more refined talents.

"Anyway, after this point, you could tell he was done playing. He started getting more forceful with his magic, but then…"

He paused again and it was all Markl could do to keep from shouting to get on with it.

"They tried to bind his magic, you know? They started to poison his food with drugs, to weaken him, to make him feebler than a newborn kitten. Of course, being a wizard, he retaliated. Don't know if you noticed it on your way in, but the cell a few numbers over from us is all busted up and broken. He blew the whole thing sky high in an attempt to get away! Of course…" The man laughed, cruelly, "He hurt himself as well. Guess he thought he was still strong enough to protect himself from the spell. Goes to show you even the arrogant ones get shown up every now and again!"

Markl's heart was pounding hard in his chest, like a wild thing trying to escape. Could it be…? A powerful wizard who could befuddle guards, disguise himself as them and perform high level blast incantations? It all sounded wonderfully familiar.

"After that, they took him away. Alive or dead, who knows… but if he was alive when someone leaves this place they usually never come back, if you know what I mean."

He tried to reason with himself, so that he wouldn't get his hopes up. Lots of powerful wizards were out there, with similar spells in their arsenal. It could be mere coincidence… and after all, even if Howl had been here the other day, he clearly wasn't there anymore.

The image from his nightmare of Howl rose unbidden to his memory and he closed his eyes quickly, but all that did was make it clearer. More vivid.

"What did he look like?" Markl asked, unable to help himself.

"Aha! So you were interested. I knew it." He sounded like he'd made a brilliant deduction. When Markl didn't respond, he focused on the question. "Hmm… I only saw him once or twice. Sort of plain looking, I guess. But really elaborate clothing, up until he blew himself up. Uh… black-ish hair?"

Markl started to cry silently. He wasn't even sure why. He was happy, not sad! The relief he felt was indescribable. Master Howl was alive, or he had been a little more than two days ago. He was so close. Closer than he'd ever been since he left the safety and comfort of the castle. It didn't matter what the man in the cell said. Master Howl was alive and now nothing could stop him from somehow finding a way to get out of there and find him! Right after he stopped crying. Heroes weren't supposed to cry, after all.

A/N: I heavily edited the ending of chapter seven, where Sophie's illness appeared, so if you're interested in reading something that makes more sense, and is less corny, please go do so.

Also, if you take the time to read it, please take the time to review! It really does encourage me to write more. When you post a review I know you liked what I wrote, but when I stare at another "hit" point and have absolutely no clue. Put my mind at ease! Love love love, okay? Let me feel the love heart.

Pinky Sprinkles: I am indeed alive! I'm sorry about the deadness. I have no idea why I lost interest before. But believe me, it's not as easy as I apparently make it seem..? I fret about plot and character portrayal constantly D:

Q: I thought I'd abandoned it too. Hmm? Nathaniel looks like Howl? Why, I never even noticed! What a peculiar coincidence.