Lettie's birthday party was far from the exciting family get together everyone had hoped for. It was a little boring to
be honest. Ever since Fanny moved up in the world her idea of a good party was sitting around drinking tea. It was only really
worth going to for Sophie to see her sister, wish her happy birthday, and see the other faces in attendence. The only person
who wasn't there when the members of the Moving Castle turned up was Mr. Smith’s nephew Alan. Fanny explained to the
that that he would be late. Howl couldn't help smiling his forced, polite smile and commented on what a pity he wasn't there.
Deep down though inside he wished he hadn’t come himself, and Sophie didn't blame him.
The crowd was quite small: Sophie, Howl, Calcifer, Michael, Martha, Lettie, Mrs Fairfax, Suliman, Mr Smith and Fanny, all
sitting around a table drinking tea and attempting to make small talk. One thing they had to admit was that Fanny had at least
tried with the decorations. Every where there were pink and white banners with 'Happy Birthday' written in stylish lettering.
The food was very prettily presented also. Sophie quite liked it but Lettie was not as amazed as her sister. When the butler
Sylvester and the servants brought through the birthday cake it had sparklers instead of candles. Everyone sung “Happy
Birthday” and Lettie made a wish. If she wished for anything she wished she had not come. It was very boring.
What made matters worse for Lettie was that she imagined Fanny had brought them all around to the house for another reason,
other than to wish lettie happy birthday. This was confirmed. As a matter of fact, Fanny had wanted everyone over was a spring
clean. She wanted to clear out the attic full of things that she had kept with her from the old hat shop when she remarried.
“I thought you girls would like to have a look. You might be able to get more use out of it than I can,” she explained
to Sophie and Lettie as she led them upstairs towards the attic room. “Martha already came up here and took what she
wanted but won’t come back up here because of a spider. I mean really, can you believe that?”
“I can imagine,” Sophie said as she clutched a broom believing that attic would be nothing compared to what
Howl could throw at her. "You get used to spiders over time."
“Spiders?” Lettie said nervously, stroking her beautiful flawless locks in her fingers. "I don't like the sound
“Oh come now dear!” Fanny said in her ligh-hearted way as she found herself at the attic door. Opening it she
went ton, “They aren't that big and won't do you any harm." Walking the two sisters into the room they stepped into
a stuffy, well-filled loft. It was quite dark and Lettie clearly didn't like that too until Sophie walked in, pulled down
a piece of wood covering the window, and let the sun shine in. Dust flared up and danced in the sun light. It made the sisters'
eyes water. Fanny pointed all around her, explaining what they saw, "Now there are quite a few different things in here. I
believe there are a few family photos with us in, a few things that had belonged to your father, a few things that belonged
to either of you in childhood. As I said, Martha was up here briefly but didn't stay very long. I'd like to get all of this
organised so I know what to keep and what to throw away. Anyway, have fun, girls! I really should get back to the party…”
Smiling cheerfully she walked out of the room and shut the door, leaving the two sisters alone with just the spiders, the
dust and the memories. Neither of them moved for a moment as they both glanced at the sight. Everything was covered in dust,
which surprised both girls seeing as Fanny never allowed a speck of dust downstairs, and these boxes couldn't have been here
more than a month. The things up here probably didn’t matter enough to keep away from the dust any more. Wooden carts
and boxes were piled along with cardboard ones, stacked in a leaning tower that threatened to fall over. Some of these things
had just been tossed in the room and left there without sorting them out safely. The window Sophie had exposed was a stained
window, small and high, shining in multi-coloured light into the room.
“Can you believe this is Fanny’s attic?” Sophie said trying to break the silence, leaning on her broom.
"I've never seen so much dust!"
“Can you believe this is my birthday?” Lettie said sulkily.
Sophie ignored her, knowing that Lettie was going to have another one of her sulks. To ignore her she walked towards a
pile of boxes and smiled back to her sister. Lettie couldn't help but smile back. She walked over to aid Sophie in her work
of looking through some of their father's old books. He had been a great fan of books like Sophie was now and collected many
over the years.
After a while of sorting Lettie decided to spreak while watching Sophie carefully, “It’s so wonderful to see
your face again. You must be happy to be young and beautiful again." Sophie said nothing in reply other than smile; she was
too entranced by the old memories of her childhood. In the boxes she not only found some of her father's old books but some
of hers as well.
After a while they found an old doll that had belonged to her since the age of four. Sophie was amazed; she had believed
she lost it one trip to Upper Folding to see Mrs. Fairfax when she was ten. She remembered how she cried and cried, and no
one ever knew because she liked to keep her sorrow to herself. There was even an old wooden box, smooth and shiny, painted
red with a floral design of gold and silver flowers and in the middle 'S. H' written on it. Both sisters remembered that it
used to contain expensive chocolates from a popular chocolate shopp, which had not been far from the old hat shop when they
were growing up. Sadly, it had to close down when the old owner died without any children. Every year between the ages of
four and thirteen Mr. Hatter would get each of the girls a box each. Sophie used to keep the boxes for her hair pins, jewellery,
earings and other things such as pens and quills and ink. Lettie eventually began doing the same thing, using them to keep
her many love letters from the boys of the neighbourhood in. This was one of hers as inside there was still some of Sophie's
old stationary. On further inspection they found all of the beautifully painted chocolate boxes that Sophie had kept, and
Lettie's own box, still containing their things. Both sisters put the small boxes aside, deciding straight away they wanted
to keep them. They had only just made their way into the attic; Sophie knew for a far that she had them on her desk in her
room before she ran away.
Looking through the boxes cheered Sophie up quickly, making her way through several of the boxes, finding treasure after
treasure. It was exciting as it brought back many old memories that she wouldn't have thought of otherwise. As she searched
she noticed a large wooden chest, well-crafted at the bottom of the pile. Sophie keenly dug towards it so she might inspect.
She was so busy that she barely heard Lettie starting to speak again, “Sometimes I just don't believe Fanny! This is
supposed to be my birthday party and she has me digging around old boxes.”
“Be fair, Lettie,” Sophie said as she brushed away some dust from her face. “She wants us to have a chance
to take away our old treasures before she gets rid of all this stuff. You know what Fanny's like, Lettie. She probably wants
this place sorted and cleared out so she can clean."
“That’s my point,” Lettie replied, looking about the room, not really being helpful any more. “It
feels like has truly forgotten father.”
“Maybe it’s better that way,” Sophie whispered, pausing for a moment to remember her father's death.
She had to admit, she hadn’t really thought of her father since his death. She had been so busy with other things, such
as the Witch of the Waste and Howl coming into her life. When her father was alive, she always seemed to be his favourite.
She was the studious and the hardest working daughter. He had called her 'angel' and 'little mother' because she was so mature
in taking care of Lettie and Martha despite being not much older than them. He loved all of his daughters dearly and equally,
but Sophie was a child after his heart. “Maybe," Sophie went on, "it’s better if we try to forget are past lives
and try to look to the--"
Sophie stopped what she was doing.
“What is it?” Lettie looking over to see what had stopped her sister in her words. Sophie had uncovered the
old chest at the bottom of the pile, worn out but still showing the faint design it had once fashioned brand new. It was very
pretty; a mahogany colour with a floral design with the name ‘SOPHIE’. When they saw that they knew what it was.
“Isn't that your old oddments chest?” Lettie asked.
Sophie smiled, quickly dusting it down to open it, “Yes it is! I remember we all had one didn't we? Although I think
I was the only one who ever used it. I remember what happened to yours. You never used it so Fanny suggested we paint it and
give it away to someone who would use it. You were so many that you..."
“Threw it down the stairs!” Lettie finished, laughing as she did. Lettie always wanted to get her way. She
would always make sure that she got her way, no matter what, even if it meant destroying the object in question. Sophie never
saw the logic of throwing a chest down the stairs so that no one could have it but you. If Lettie had kept old things that
she didn’t want inside her chest in the first place, like Sophie had, then maybe nothing would have been thrown down
the stairs. “Only you and I had one," Lettie explained. "I knew they were special. If I couldn’t have it then
no one could!” Sophie laughed and briefly mused on how different the two sisters were, despite looking quite similar.
Sophie normally stayed calm and kept her head in dangerous situations, while Lettie would normally break down, panic or faint.
Both girls could be very strong-minded, but everyone considered Sophie to be the sensible one. After what had happened to
her, they now all thought she was the strongest too.
Looking inside Sophie's old oddments box there were several smaller boxes that had once contained jewellery and shoes.
Fanny had obviously been in here first and tried to sort some things out. Lettie picked one out one of the smaller boxes to
look inside. She found herself holding a handful of black and white, faded photographs of her and her sisters. There were
many other boxes, but underneath, there were Sophie’s old oddments. Amazingly she found her old diary, a beautiful green
book with a special lock on it that only she could open, and pieces of paper with old poems she had written during her school
days. One story in particular was what one would call a “fairytale” about a princess trapped in a tower with long
red hair. She had written that when all the girls at school had teased her about her hair, and writing these stories made
her feel better
Lettie sighed, “Only Fanny could carelessly stuff things into someone else box to clear up clutter.”
“Lettie, that’s enough!” Sophie snapped. “You're becoming worse than Martha when it comes to Fanny!
You knowshe's a good woman who has been kind all our lives. She brought us up despite the fact you and I weren’t her
children!” That was a good woman in this day and age; most stepmothers were not only thought to but expected to make
their stepdaughters feel worthless and useless. But Fanny was very kind and treated them with equal kindness to Martha. Or
at least that was how Sophie saw it. “Fanny is the only mother we have ever known, and that should command some respect
Lettie rolled her eyes, "Oh, goodness me Sophie. If anyone has played mother to Martha and I, it's you!" Lettie opened
another box, finding more photographs. “Fanny’s nice and I do love her, but if anyone brought us up it was you.
You were always the one who looked after us despite the fact you were just a girl too. You even cooked us dinner a couple
of times once you were six. The only reason you didn't start before was because you were too small to reach the stove.”
Sophie didn't want to argue with Lettie. It was true that due to Fanny being busy in the shop she had taken it upon herself
to look after and raise the other two. If anything she was grateful that Lettie recognised the hard work she put into everything,
and smiled, “Thank you and I'm glad you think so. You must understand though that I never had anyone else to look up
to. It's only natural I'd try to defend Fanny because she'd the only person I have. She is the closest thing to a mother I
have." Lettie understood and nodded.
They went on looking through the objects in silences. While Sophie went through other boxes, Lettie looked at the pictures.
They were all of the family, and some of the workers. Some of them and their father, them and Fanny or all of them together.
She picked up a very dusty and dirty box that in its time would have been very pretty but the years it had been kept in two
different attics had destroyed it. She opened it and stopped dead, her lovely blue eyes starred at the photo. She glanced
over at Sophie who was holding an old book, and brushing off the dust.
“Sophie, look at this!”
"What is it?" Sophie replied without turning. Lettie rushed over quickly, falling down to her knees next to Sophie in a
great gust of dust. Sophie's eyes watered and she sneezed as she looked at what Lettie was handing her. Once her eyes had
cleared she saw she was holding a photograph. It was of a woman that she did not recognise at first, although there was something
about her that looked familiar. "Who is this?"
"Look at the back," Lettie said quietly, her eyes wide with surprise. Sophie did as Lettie said. Turning the old photograph
over, she saw a caption in their late father's writing. She dropped the books she had been holding in shock, and clutched
the picture in both hands. She turned it over to look at the face again. It was of a young woman with a warm soft face, smiling
slightly and clearly looking more at the camera than at. Lettie confirmed what Sophie thought she was looking it, "It's a
picture of mother!"
"I know," Lettie said, placing a hand over her mouth to look at the photograph again. They looked at the caption again,
which read: ANNETTE AGED TWENTY-ONE. "I always tried to imagine what she looked like but..." she paused and looked
at Sophie, "You look a lot like her."
"If you say so," Sophie said, wondering if that was where she saw the likeness - her own reflection.
Lettie tilted her head before taking back the photograph, "I wonder why father always wanted to hide pictures of her away."
"Fanny said it upset him," Sophie reminded her. "She died so suddenly and young that looking at her just brought back bad
memories." She then looked at the box where Lettie had found the picture, and then at her sister, "Do you think there are
any more photographs or pictures of her?"
Lettie smiled excitedly, "Let's have a look!"
Together the two sisters tore through the rest of the box for anything of their mother. After no success for a while, Sophie
suddenly found a box tied up with both string and ribbon. She nearly broke her nails trying to undo all the knots. It was
worth the effort as inside was another picture of her mother, with her huge eyes were staring up at her. Sophie picked it
up to show Lettie when she saw another one. Under that was another, and another. The entire box was filled with pictures of
their mother, captions and all.
Lettie stared in awe at her mother, "Oh, she was so beautiful! How could we forget her?"
"We were so young, Lettie," Sophie said slowly, also amazed at seeing her mother's face for the first time in sixteen years.
"Yes," Lettie said taking the pictures to have another look at them. "At least we can see them now. What angers me is that
Fanny always told us there were no photographs of mother!" That was when she shood quickly in a huff of anger. The pictures
of Annette fell off her lap as she stood. "I'm going to march right now there and ask her why she and father lied!"
"Oh, Lettie..." Sophie said, Lettie's stubborness starting to get on her nerves.
"No, we are doing this. Is there anything else in that box?"
Sophie sighed and looked at the last box, a large shoe box, which they had been looking through. Lettie was already stuffing
things into the large oddments shelf, including the old chocolate boxes and Sophie's doll. She barely got a chance to see
if there was anything else more valuable and Lettie snatched it all up into the box. Together, the pair made their way back
to the party.
Howl wished he could have gone and hidden in the attic. He'd rather be stuck in the same room with darling Sophie, beloved
spiders and shrewish Lettie then down where he was. He had found himself was stuck listening to not-so interesting story of
Mr Smith’s nephew’s intelligence. Apparently he had been a cracker at school, good at everything, a natural genius.
It annoyed Howl not because Alan sounded better but because people used to say the same thing about him. As Mr Smith spoke,
Howl looked out the window to watch everyone else outside enjoying the afternoon. The wonderful Alan Smith came striding up
the drive and the angels might have starting singing. Everyone rushed up to greet him, Michael and Martha being first in line.
There they were out there having fun while he was stuck inside. Howl even envied Calcifer who was flying about the garden
without a care in the world.
“His father, my brother was a bit of a fool. It’s how he lived and how he died. I brought that boy up myself,
and look how well he has turned out!” Mr Smith said, smiling gleefully.
“The image of you, dear,” Fanny said topping off his drink again.
Howl looked as if he would rather be anywhere else and Ben Suliman looked as if he was asleep, probably because he was
asleep. He then wondered where the new object of his desire was, Sophie. He felt bored without her around him and felt and
hoped that she’d soon turn up and save the day. Suddenly, Howl was yanked back into reality by Fanny’s sudden
change of talk. She dismissed Ben first, who was more than happy to go outside as he was instantly greeted by Mrs Fairfax,
as Howl viewed out the window. “Wizard Howl” Fanny said formally, “What are you intentions?”
Howl blinked, trying to focus, “My what?”
“Your intentions,” Fanny repeated.
“On my stepdaughter,” Fanny said.
Howl coughed awkwardly, "Excuse me?"
Fanny rolled her eyes, “What do you intend to do with her?”
“What do you mean do?” Howl asked. Confused on how his intentions had anything to do with perfect Alan
becoming being a genius and so wonderful. He was still in conversation with the elder Smith for all he knew. Howl made it
look as if he’d just understood, “Oh I see, what do I plan to do with her in the castle?" he stopped, thinking
about what he had just said, before he went on. "I thought she could become my pupil."
“Like Martha’s beau?”
“Well, sort of…” Howl explained, thinking of the other thing he intended to do with her. “I’m
sure you’re aware by now, Mrs Smith that Sophie has a very special magical talent.”
“Pardon?” Fanny said, smiling in a way that didn’t show shock but in an idea to prove that the idea that
Sophie had a magical talent was silly. Where had she been all this time? It then seemed to dawn on her: "Oh, you mean with
the hats? She has a nice talent there."
Mr Smith laughed, “Sophie’s talents lie in sowing, stitching, cooking and cleaning. She'll make a nice little
wife. Lettie has some magical talent, I believe, as Mrs Fairfax says she’s quite talented, but Sophie is talented at
the domestic life and that’s what she enjoys.”
Howl didn’t know what to say. Never in his life had two people so fully aware magic deny it so quickly and then try
to convince him that she was only good as a housewife. Well, Mr. Smith did but that was because he didn't really know Sophie.
Howl knew that Fanny adored Sophie, but didn’t think that she was allowed talent other than that of a Cinderella. The
fairytale laws of this world were even lost on him today, and he was still stuck on the modern ways of viewing women he had
grown up with during the sixties at home.
"What I meant," Fanny said, trying to get a straight answer this time, “ is are you planning on marrying Sophie?”
“Wha--?” Howl gasped.
“Are you planning to marry Sophie? Because if you aren't I’ll have to find someone else to marry her to,”
Fanny said in a rather over-dramatic way. "And she'll have to move out of that hidious castle of yours because people will
start to talk soon.
Howl didn’t understand, "But she's on eighteen. Plenty of time to get married and have kids.”
“I was nineteen when I married her father and in my twenties when I gave birth to her sister. Sophie needs to marry
someone soon, or at the very least, become engaged. From the looks of things Lettie may be making a partnership with Wizard
Suliman, and I have consented to Martha becoming betrothed to your gofer. I will not object to you training her in her special
power, but I need to know whether or not you intend to become engaged soon so I know whether or not to look else where."
Howl didn't like this at all. Fanny was intending on taking Sophie away from the castle if he didn't come out with an engagement.
Trouble was that apart from the happily ever after Howl had not even had the chance to ask Sophie whether she would
consider marrying him. He was about to explain this to Fanny when a large chest came crashing down the stairs and landed in
the hallway with a large bang of noice. He looked around in shock. It was followed by a few boxes carelessly thrown down,
and finally by Sophie and Lettie were rushing downstairs holding a moth-eaten, dusty box between them.
“Find anything girls?” Fanny's husband called out, holding his glass high as if in toast.
Lettie rushed towards Fanny with a scowl on her face leaving Sophie to drag the ugly box alone. Howl quickly stood up to
aid her. Together they both brought the box to the coffee table and placed it on top. Fanny’s face looked in disgust
at the box but looked up at Lettie wondering what was wrong. "Lettie, darling lamb, what on earth is wrong, and why have you
put that awful chest on my coffee table? I'm worried it will give it woodworm!
“You lied to us," lettie said, pulling a sulky face looking as if she was going to cry. "You and father said there
were no photos of our mother."
Sophie rolled her eyes and dusted off the top of the box trying to see its design. Howl took out a hankie and offered it
to her. There were so many layers that it rose up, building up in their faces and caused a few coughs. He was was horrified
when she started to use it on the chest, but he didn't dare say anything. If Lettie was in a bad mood then Sophie might explode
if prodded the wrong way.
Fanny felt awkward being put on the spot but everyone was looking at her. Clearing her throat, she began to speak: "Your
father didn't want you to see her and get upset. He didn't want to get upset, so he said there were no pictures."
“And so did you!” Lettie snapped.
Pausing for a moment, she took out the pictures that they had found. Fanny seemed taken aback. It had been a long time
since she had seen Annette's face. She had forgotten just how much Sophie looked like her. It was a beautiful face. She had
been such a kind woman too, even if she was a little strange. She died far too early, not even near thirty, and to die in
that way was just awful. All she could manage to say was, "It's been a long time since I've seen that face."
Howl tilted his head to look at some of the other pictures. Picking one up he looked at the face closely, "This is your
"Yes," replied Sophie.
"Hmmm," he said, still looking at the picture. "Sorry, just looks familiar."
"That's probably because Sophie takes after her," Fanny said, trying to gain control of the situation.
Howl nodded, putting down the picture, "Yes, probably." He looked at Sophie, "You do look alike."
“Indeed you do, Sophie,” said a new voice from behind them. Howl nearly jumped out of his skin. Looking over
his shoulder was Alan Smith. He took the photograph from Howl and looked closely at it, “You’re the spitting image
of her!” Behind Alan were the other guests, all except Calcifer, who was still out in the garden.
Martha took hold of one of the photographs, sharing its view with Michael, “Who are these of?"
"She looks like Sophie," Michael said with a merry voice.
"It does look like Sophie," Suliman said, taking the picture Lettie was holding to look at it. "A relative of yours?"
Mrs Fairfax took the picture from Martha and Michael, looked at it and smiled. No one dared to hold a breath, as once Mrs
Fairfax started talking there was no stopping her. “I'd know that pretty face anywhere. That is Thomas Hatter's first
wife, before he married dear Fanny. I’ve forgotten her name…”
“Annette,” Fanny said looking at what Sophie and Howl had uncover on the second box. Just as the first one
had Sophie's name on it, this one had 'ANNE' on it. Howl scowled at it, something was still nagging at his brain but he wasn't
sure what. Alan watched him out of the corner of his eye before looking to his aunt, who went on talking. "Annette used to
be good at art; she'd buy these new chests and painted them. She made one for both her daughters, and one for herself."
“Why didn't you tell us about this after father died?” Sophie asked, now starting to get annoyed herself. This
was not the birthday Lettie had planned. Inside the box that she had no time to inspect before were several books and dried
up herbs that were long since out of date. Howl jumped in to have a look, more interested in the entire thing than Sophie
was. "You really should have told us, Fanny."
“It was your father’s idea!” Fanny exclaimed, looking as if she wanted to cry. “He didn’t
want either of you getting upset over your mother so he said there were no pictures. I thought there were no pictures. He
told me he had burnt them, so that it wouldn't break your hearts. I thought we should say something but you know what he was
like to argue with!”
“This Annette,” said Howl, not looking up from one of Annette's books, "She wasn't just a little housewife,
was she?" Sophie looked over his shoulder to see what he was reading. She recognised those scribbles anywhere, and Howl could
tell she could tell. "Annette was a witch, wasn't she? These books are old witches books. I might add that they are anicent
book that one certainly couldn't find in the library." He then leant over to show Suliman, "I'm sure you'll agree that this
is is an ancient alphabet of an ancient language. I'm afraid I don't speak it but we should be able to translate it. What
do you think Suliman?”
Ben Suliman lowered his craggy face over the book, “This is indeed the native writing and tongue of this world, this
country. Translation is seriously going to be a difficult task.” He turned the page and scowled, "That's odd," he said
turning between the last page and the previous, "Only that bit is in the ancient language; the rest of it is just about readable.
It dates back to this worlds 13th century and is quite readable. It's just this bit..."
Howl took the book back and looked puzzled, "Hmmm, you're right. There must be a reason while this piece is unreadable.
It makes you wonder what this book is trying to hide," he also noticed there were several other pieces of paper from a even
later period, their period, tucked between the pages. "She used this spell book like a shadow book."
"A shadow book," Sophie said, knowing the term, "that's a personal spell book and diary, isn't it?"
"Yes," Lettie replied. "Not all witches use them. I don't, but some do. Obviously mother did. I just wonder what she was
doing with an ancient spell book."
Sophie nodded and looked to Howl, "Is that ancient writing part of the book or just stuck in?"
"It's part of the book," he explained. "That's what makes it all so strange. Everyone have a look at the other spells,
the readable old one. It may take a while to come to you because it's old but look at it and tell me what you think it is."
Everyone leaned over the old stained book to see the spell Howl was pointing to. Fanny, naturally, didn't have and clue
and neither did Martha. But Lettie, Mrs Fairfax, Michael and Sophie all did. They all spoke at the same time. "Isn't that
a levitation spell?" said Sophie. "She's right," Michael said, looking at everyone else for confirmation. "I'd recognise that
old star any day!" both Mrs Fairfax and Lettie said together in chorus. It didn't occur to them to see what Alan thought.
He just stood in silence.
"Indeed," Howl said, behind him Suliman giving an impressed nod. Howl looked at Sophie, "I'm surprised you identified it
so easily, Miss Nose. You were snooping around my spell again, weren't you?"
Sophie scowled, "I was organising things Howl, and even if I did look at them doesn't mean I understood. Your scribbles
over them are disgraceful. Almost as disgraceful as the fact we don't know what that other bit in the book says."
Howl had to agree and took back the book to have a look at it. He sighed and shook his head, "It's a pity because it would
take ages to translate this and even longer to find a book that would have the alphabet in it. No one reads or speaks or writes
this anymore, so no one can understand it. The only one I remember who could read and write this fluently, was Mrs Penstemmon.”
“It’s too bad we can’t ask her,” Michael said. “I remember coming across this alphabet a
while ago, but I don’t think I could translate it…”
"You came across it?" Sophie said looking straight at him, "When was this?"
"I can't remember," Michael said sheepily. "Sorry."
As everyone went on pondering over the strange book of unknown. For someone who was the greatest wizard in Ingary, Howl
seemed to know very little of this strange type of magic. Not only him but Michael, Suliman, Lettie and Mrs Fairfax certainly
didn't have a clue what any of it was about. Sophie could tell that now Howl was hooked and determined to find out what it
was. He pick up the book to look at it himself and said, "Well, if Michael has seen it somewhere then there must be a book
somewhere with the alphabet then we could translate it. I'll have to look into this."
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