Curse of the Wolf Girl

by Martin Millar

  As she burst into a clearing, she found herself confronted by two more members of the guild. One of them began to run, but his companion raised his pistol and pointed it directly at the werewolf. Kalix flew through the air and took his arm in her jaws in the brief second before he squeezed the trigger. He yelled in pain as she dragged him to the ground and almost decapitated him with a swipe from her talons. Again, though he was killed instantly, Kalix bit his lifeless corpse and stamped on it cruelly before setting off in pursuit of the other hunter.

  Decembrius had by this time reached the top of the bank and clambered over the fence. He couldn’t keep up with Kalix and ran desperately in her wake, convinced that he was going to find her bullet-riddled body lying dead in the bushes. He passed her first victim and then her second and sprinted through the clearing into a small clump of trees where he almost collided with Kalix, who was savaging the dead body of a third hunter. Decembrius, who never lost his rationality, looked on in shock as Kalix tore the man’s body to pieces, sending blood splattering over the nearby trees and over her own fur, which was now heavily stained.

  At that moment, a huge rottweiler erupted on to the scene. It could have been with the guild; they did use trained dogs to hunt werewolves. It could have been a stray. Or even a family pet, out in the park to run around. Kalix didn’t wait to find out. As the dog advanced, she grabbed its foreleg, sank the talons of her other hand into its neck, and lifted it into the air. She bit its neck, and there was a sickening crunching noise as the bones splintered. Kalix tossed the heavy carcass away without another glance then looked around eagerly for more victims.

  “Enough,” said Decembrius, and he reached out to touch her.

  Kalix snarled. Her eyes were still dark, burning, and full of madness. She began sniffing around, still growling, looking for another victim.

  “This way.” Decembrius tried to lead her deeper into the trees. He was acutely aware that there could still be other hunters around. Even if there were no more members of the guild, there were sure to be plenty of innocent people in Regent’s Park. With Kalix in her present state, Decembrius didn’t trust her not to kill anyone she came across. Even though he’d once accompanied the terrifying Sarapen MacRinnalch into battle, Decembrius had never experienced anyone as frighteningly berserk as Kalix. She snarled and growled as he led her on, turning her head this way and that, looking for hunters.

  Kalix’s tongue was lolling from her mouth, and she opened and closed her great werewolf fangs.

  “I think we’re safe now,” said Decembrius. “We should change back and get out of here.” He could see a path nearby; they were almost at the spot where the trees gave way to open parkland. Two joggers went past, and Decembrius found himself holding tightly onto Kalix lest she leap out and attack them.

  Kalix licked blood from her lips. “I want more hunters.”

  “We should go.” Decembrius tried to pull Kalix along, but she lashed out at him. He avoided the blow but, being himself in an agitated state, was unable to control himself completely. He struck out in retaliation, though not fiercely. Kalix swiped his paw out of the way and then hit him again. This time the blow connected, and Decembrius crashed backwards into a tree. Enraged, he leapt at Kalix, and they tumbled to the ground. Decembrius landed on top, and his weight pinned her to the ground, but he arched himself backwards to avoid having her sink her teeth into his neck. He looked into her maddened eyes. “We should get out of here,” he repeated.

  Abruptly the madness seemed to fade from Kalix’s eyes, and she transformed back to human. Decembrius did the same, still on top of her. Then, without thinking what he was doing, he kissed her. Kalix immediately kissed him back, quite fiercely.

  After a few seconds, she thrust him away. “Don’t do that!” she said and lashed out again.

  “Stop trying to hit me,” growled Decembrius.

  Kalix looked at him with disgust then leapt to her feet. “Go and play with the Douglas-MacPhees. You’re a traitor. Don’t come near me ever again.” With that, she turned and left.

  “Hey, I didn’t make you kiss me!” called Decembrius, then he winced in pain from Kalix’s final blow. He couldn’t recall having been hit so hard by anyone he’d kissed before. Decembrius grinned. He couldn’t smell any other werewolves in the area, and the sounds of the commotion of battle had long since faded. Apart from the joggers in the distance, he seemed to be alone. He composed himself, then set off, heading along the bank, looking for a safe place to cross the railway line. Emerging from the trees, he ran straight into a young couple with two children in tow.

  “Have you seen our dog?” asked one of the children.

  “Your dog?”

  “Rexy. He’s a rottweiler. He ran off.”

  The family looked at him expectantly.

  Decembrius shook his head. “I didn’t pass a dog. Probably best looking in the other direction.”

  Decembrius hurried off, not wanting to be in the vicinity if the family found what little remained of their pet after Kalix had torn it to pieces. He scrambled quickly over the fence, down onto the railway line, up the opposite verge, and over a wall into the back gardens of a row of terraced houses, then hurried back into the evening streets of Camden.

  Chapter 116

  Dithean NicRinnalch, Fairy Queen of Colburn Woods, was waiting for Minerva MacRinnalch when she arrived, though Minerva hadn’t warned her she was coming and hadn’t been seen in these parts for many years. The Fairy Queen sat on a branch of a silver birch tree, her dark green apparel standing out in contrast to the pale bark. The ancient werewolf smiled when she saw her.

  “I never could catch you unawares.”

  Minerva MacRinnalch was very old; she’d known the Fairy Queen’s mother, and Dithean’s mother had passed on two hundred years ago. Despite her years, she showed no signs of frailty. She was still a strong werewolf, though she led a very peaceful life in her retirement.

  Minerva remained at her normal size, politely declining the Fairy Queen’s offer to make her smaller for the duration of her visit. She looked around at the forest. She’d chosen this spot because she remembered the silver birch trees. Minerva liked the contrast of their pale bark with the darker alders and rowans. Colburn Woods was one of the few untouched remnants of the ancient Caledonian forest that had once covered the whole of Scotland. Dithean fluttered from her branch, perching on the tip of a blaeberry shrub. A bee droned lazily past, but it was used to the fairies and ignored her.

  “I can’t quite see what my old pupil is doing,” said Minerva.

  “Thrix? She rarely visits me these days. Though Queen Malveria does.”

  “Really? What for?”

  “Some respite from the troubles of being a ruler. And also to learn the secret of my lip coloring.”

  “Are you going to tell her?”

  “We’ve made a bet.”

  Minerva smiled. “The fairies always were fond of gambling.”

  “As is Malveria. It lends weight to our contention that the Hiyasta are a branch of the fairy line, though Malveria will never admit it.”

  “Your legend of the origins of the Fire Elementals is hardly flattering,” pointed out Minerva. “A group of fairies who became obsessed with fire, eventually having their wings burned off, then growing large and clumsy.”

  “It sounds bad when you put it like that,” agreed Dithean.

  “What’s your wager?”

  “My lip coloring against Malveria’s Santorini necklace, depending on whether Thrix MacRinnalch can find a happy relationship.”

  “You think she can’t?”

  Queen Dithean smiled and curled her wings. “Do you think she can?”

  “I’m not really in touch with such things these days. I won’t pass an opinion.”

  Dithean laughed. “You know as well as I do that the Thane’s offspring will never be happy.”

  Minerva gazed towards the south. “What has Malveria told you about Thrix?”

  “Her business e
nterprise has money problems.”

  Minerva, graceful in her werewolf form under the moonlight, nodded. She had long hair all over her body, as was common for a MacRinnalch werewolf. “Very odd for a werewolf to be so obsessed by clothes.”

  “It’s odd for a werewolf to learn sorcery,” pointed out Queen Dithean, “but you did it hundreds of years ago. And outraged your family, as I remember.”

  Minerva laughed. “I did. As did Thrix. I’m worried about her. Do you know why that might be?”

  “I don’t think I do. Nothing Queen Malveria said was too worrying.” Queen Dithean’s golden hair shone in the moonlight. A badger poked its head out from its set and stared, fascinated by the sight.

  “Malveria did mention that Thrix had a new man in her life.”

  “A husband?” asked Minerva, surprised.

  “A lover.”

  Minerva turned her old, wise eyes towards the south again and looked down through the valleys and glens of Scotland, past the towns and cities of the lowlands, right into the depths of England, all the way into the heart of London. She nodded. “I could never understand why Thrix was so keen on living in the city.”

  There was a long silence. A family of hedgehogs walked past, three spiky young cubs following their mother.

  “I can see trouble coming.”

  “Of course,” agreed the Fairy Queen. “Thrix’s relationship will falter, winning me the necklace.”

  Minerva frowned. “Something worse than that, I think.”

  Chapter 117

  Ihad a terrible time at university today!” exclaimed Daniel. “Translating Chaucer! In front of other people! I’m still bridling at the memory.”

  “You look like you’re bridling,” said Moonglow.

  “I’m completely bridling. What happened to the modern education system? Haven’t we advanced beyond making people translate Chaucer in front of their whole tutorial group? Is this really helping anyone?”

  “I assume it went badly?” said Moonglow.

  “A disaster. Middle English may not survive the experience. I’m sure my tutor was laughing at me. Is he allowed to do that? Is this pizza ever going to arrive? Am I supposed to spend the whole day translating Chaucer and then just starve to death?”

  The doorbell rang. Daniel’s face brightened, but before he could make it downstairs, Kalix appeared carrying the pizza box.

  “I met the delivery boy,” she mumbled.

  “Okay,” said Daniel. “Let’s have the pizza.”

  “Sorry,” said Kalix, and dropped the empty box on the table. “I was hungry.”

  Daniel was staggered by Kalix’s treachery. “You ate the whole thing on the way up the stairs?” Daniel looked to Moonglow for support. “Kalix ate my pizza!”

  “Hungry evening as a werewolf, Kalix?” asked Moonglow.

  Kalix nodded.

  “I could tell. You always need to eat after you’ve been a werewolf.”

  “What about my pizza?” demanded Daniel. “I had a hungry day too.”

  “Phone for another one.”

  Daniel picked up the phone, complaining that it had been cheaper when Kalix just stuck to having an eating disorder rather than devouring everything in sight.

  Kalix said nothing. She didn’t intend telling her flatmates anything about the evening’s events. She’d learned that it wasn’t a good idea to tell them about werewolf battles unless it was really necessary.

  Vex appeared in the room, smiling at the world, pleased with her new clothes. She wore a substantial pair of boots that reached her knees and a short skirt, making her look rather elf-like. “Hi everyone! Do you like my new boots? Aunt Malvie bought them for me because I got another gold star!”

  Moonglow smiled, not entirely sincerely. She had an idea that some day there might be a reckoning concerning Malveria and Vex’s alleged gold stars.

  “Isn’t college great? Hi, Kalix, you’re looking cheerful, is it because you kissed Decembrius?”

  There was a brief moment of shock.

  “I didn’t kiss Decembrius.”

  “Yes, you did. I can see it in your aura.”

  “Didn’t I tell you never to read my aura again?”

  “I forgot. Do you like my new boots?”

  “Did you kiss Decembrius?” asked Moonglow.

  “Do I need to order extra pizza?” said Daniel. “Because I really need a whole one myself. If you’re going to start eating more because you’ve been kissing or something, then let me know now, and I’ll order extra.”

  “I didn’t kiss anyone.”

  “Apart from Decembrius,” said Vex.

  Kalix sighed. Vex was renowned as the worst reader of auras in the Hiyasta nation, yet somehow she still managed to come up with the occasionally deadly accurate interpretation, usually at the most inappropriate moment.

  “All right, I kissed Decembrius. But it’s none of your business.”

  If Kalix thought she could get away with this in a house shared with three other young students, she was mistaken. Vex wanted details, Daniel wanted details, and even Moonglow wasn’t about to ignore such an interesting piece of gossip. Kalix found herself confronted by three eager faces, all wanting to hear more. “It just sort of happened.”

  “Did he grab you?”

  “Did you grab him?”

  “He fell on top of me.”

  “Ah,” said Daniel, sagely. “The old accidental-falling-on-top-of-you technique.”

  “So how long did you kiss him for?”

  “Only a second. He took me by surprise. I didn’t mean to do it. I was confused.”

  “What happened after that?”

  “I punched him and told him to go away.”

  “It sounds romantic.”

  “I don’t know if I approve of all this kissing,” declared Vex, to general astonishment. “We’ve got exams to think about, and an assignment. We’re supposed to be studying.”

  “You never study at all!”

  “I’ve been doing well in class. But face it, you’re not doing so well. I’m just saying this for your own good.”

  Kalix threw up her hands in annoyance. If it had come to Agrivex lecturing her about studying, her life must have gone severely wrong.

  “I’m going to my room,” she said.

  “Are you going to study?” Vex looked towards Moonglow. “Make her study.”

  “What happened after Decembrius kissed you and you hit him?” asked Daniel. “Did he hit you back? Is that a werewolf thing?”

  But Kalix had departed, brushing roughly against the cat on the way. The cat, thinking this was a good game, raced after her.

  * * *

  In her room, Kalix had to push it out of the way as she attempted to write in her journal. For some reason, the cat liked nothing better than lying on any page Kalix attempted to write on.

  “Decembrius kissed me,” she wrote, slowly, “and there was a fight with hunters.” She shuddered. Following on from Decembrius’s suggestion that she pretend to be normal in front of other people, she’d been bottling up her emotions. When stressed or anxious, she took care to hide it from Daniel and Moonglow. It did make her life easier in some ways. She no longer had to answer questions about her state of mind or listen to well-meaning advice, which usually just made her more stressed. But pretending to be normal had disadvantages too. She could feel her emotions pent up inside her, waiting to break out. She’d felt like screaming at Daniel over the pizza, though she knew there was no reason to, and now that the feeling had faded, it left her anxious again. Kalix absentmindedly ran her fingernails over the letter “N” she’d cut in her arm, making it bleed. She watched the blood trickle down and felt a little better.

  * * *

  Downstairs, Moonglow was troubled. She knew Kalix didn’t tell them everything that went on in her life as a werewolf. “I don’t think Kalix would have kissed Decembrius without some powerful outside stimulation. Like a fight or something.”

  “Who would she be fighting?�
�

  “I’m sure there are still werewolves who are out to get her.”

  “Can I kiss you?” said Daniel.

  “How did that follow on from what I just said?”

  “We were talking about kissing.”

  “No, we weren’t. Anyway, you’d get sick.”

  “What if I wouldn’t?”

  “But you would.”

  “You’re avoiding giving me a proper answer,” complained Daniel. He slumped into the couch. “How did we get cursed anyway? It’s uncalled for, in this day and age. I’m going to listen to music.”

  “Don’t play it too loud.”

  “And you keep complaining about my music. Life is hell.” Daniel went upstairs to sulk and to listen to music through his headphones.

  Chapter 118

  Decembrius hurried to the twins’ house in Camden, looking for Dominil. He told her about events in the park, including the notable piece of news that Red Ruraich had been shot. Decembrius didn’t know if he’d been killed or not. It was grave news anyway. Ruraich was head of the MacAndrises, and though they were small in numbers, they were an ancient werewolf clan. Ruraich was known to everybody.

  “We seem to be losing to the guild,” said Dominil.

  “I wouldn’t say that.” Decembrius grinned. “They don’t have as many hunters as they used to. Thanks mainly to Kalix.”

  “She killed a hunter?”

  “Three, I think. She’s quite a savage when she gets going.”

  From Decembrius’s tone, Dominil sensed he rather admired Kalix’s display of savagery. That wasn’t unusual for a MacRinnalch. No werewolf would ever be unpopular among the clan for killing the hated hunters.

  Dominil called Thrix, who called the castle, spreading the news. The Mistress of the Werewolves was deeply shocked. Once more she wished that the werewolves in London would return to the castle. At least they’d all be in Scotland in a fortnight, for her fundraising event or for the Yum Yum Sugary Snacks gig.

  * * *

  Markus was in Edinburgh, attending to the preparations at Andamair House. When he received a call from his mother, he immediately arranged to return to the castle. As Thane, he needed to be at Castle MacRinnalch to reassure the clan once news of Red Ruraich became known.