The Curse of the Wolf Girl

by Martin Millar

  “That would explain it. Unless Agrivex is using this bouncy castle story merely as a way of avoiding me?”

  “Why would she be avoiding you? I thought she was doing well at college?”

  Malveria nodded. “So she says. According to Agrivex, she’s the best student and will pass her exams with record scores and probably cheering crowds as well. I remain suspicious, but will await events.”

  “Did you heal her sore foot?”

  “My dearest Thrix, the Queen of the Hiyasta doesn’t waste her power healing an idiot niece who has no more sense than to bounce around on children’s inflatable devices. Her sore foot will heal itself, and may the pain be a salutary lesson to her.” Malveria smiled. “So, Enchantress, have I rescued you from the depths of misery?”

  “No. I feel nauseous.”

  “Oh.” Malveria was disappointed. “I trust this will not interfere with the splendid new outfit you’re designing for me?”

  Thrix felt her forehead becoming moist as if from fever. She wanted to go home and lie on the couch, and she felt quite irritated by the Fire Queen’s good humor.

  “I’ve got some news that might make you not feel quite so cheerful,” Thrix said. “About Princess Kabachetka.”

  Malveria stiffened at the name. “What about her?”

  “She’s been at Castle MacRinnalch.”

  Malveria’s smile disappeared. “Kabachetka? What has that vile so-called princess been doing at Castle MacRinnalch? Attacking the werewolves?”

  Thrix felt rather pleased to have disconcerted Malveria. That would teach her to be so cheerful during a lunar eclipse. “No. The princess brought Sarapen’s body back.”

  “What? But how could this happen?”

  Thrix had been almost as surprised as Malveria at the news. The Mistress of the Werewolves had phoned to tell her that not only had Princess Kabachetka returned Sarapen’s body, but also that a private funeral had already been held. “I thought it best to get it over with quietly,” her mother had said, probably implying that Thrix took so little notice of family affairs she didn’t deserve to be invited anyway.

  Malveria sat down again and looked thoughtful. “Surprising news. Princess Kabachetka supported Sarapen against Markus. I didn’t expect her to make friends with your mother. And she has returned the body? Undoubtedly there is some cunning plan here.”

  “I think the cunning plan might already have happened,” said Thrix. “Princess Kabachetka’s going to the fundraising event in Edinburgh. My mother invited her.”

  “What!” Malveria again leapt from her chair, this time levitating several inches and staying there. “The princess is going to the opera? But this cannot happen! I am not allowed to go! And she cares nothing for the opera!”

  “She does now,” said Thrix. “Mother seems to have taken quite a liking to her.”

  Malveria slammed her fist on the table, which split in two. Thrix, who had been half-expecting this, immediately spoke a word of sorcery, repairing the table.

  “The despicable princess has planned this all along! My fashion triumphs at the opera have been widely reported. Now she will attend this event to shame me. Enchantress, you must secure me an invitation.”

  Thrix shook her head. “I can’t. Hiyastas and MacRinnalchs are still enemies, as you well know. Please don’t break my table again. If I have to use sorcery again, I think I’ll be sick.” Thrix glanced out of the window at the faltering moon. “And could you lower your voice, I have a terrible headache.”

  Ann walked into Thrix’s office. She looked around questioningly. “Bad news?”

  “The worst,” groaned Malveria. “Defeat and disgrace at the hands of Kabachetka.” She rounded on Thrix. “You must stop this immediately. Kabachetka cannot attend.”

  “It’s nothing to do with me,” protested Thrix. “Ask my mother.”

  “You know very well I cannot ask your mother! It seems to me, Enchantress, that you’re not taking this seriously enough. Do you realize the shame and humiliation that confronts me in this matter?”

  Thrix’s nausea was increasing as the eclipse neared. “I can’t think about your shame and humiliation at the moment, I’ve got other things on my mind.”

  The Fire Queen’s eyes began to smolder. “What other things?”

  “A business that’s going rapidly downhill and a date with Easterly in the middle of the lunar eclipse. Which I wouldn’t have if you hadn’t insisted on setting me up with him. Did I ask you to set me up with anybody?”

  “No, but you spent endless hours talking in an irritating tone about your poor love life.”

  “What irritating tone?”

  “The one you use when complaining of your poor love life.”

  Thrix rose to her feet, too quickly, and clutched the desk for support. “Maybe you should concentrate on your own love instead of interfering with mine. I’m sick of hearing about your heir. Just have one. Or don’t have one. But don’t keep going on about it all the time.”

  Flames leapt from Malveria’s fingertips, and she levitated several feet off the ground. “Now I see it all, cursed Enchantress! You have connived with your clan and Kabachetka to humiliate me! The ingratitude is startling! Felicori only sings because of me! Without me, he would have no wish to associate with you or your tawdry clan of shape-shifting bumpkins.”

  “No one asked you to interfere in that either!” roared Thrix, causing Ann to take several steps backwards.

  “Pah! Our association is over, Enchantress. You may be certain that I will never assist you again. Furthermore, I will laugh cruelly as your business fails. My only regret is that such a pleasant man as Captain Easterly will be forced to endure your company for the evening. Good day!”

  With that, the Fire Queen dematerialized so violently that the office window cracked from top to bottom.

  There was a moment’s silence.

  “I’ll call the glaziers,” said Ann, practically. “Captain Easterly will be here to pick you up in about five minutes.”

  Chapter 75

  In the small flat above the vacant shop in Kennington, Moonglow was conducting an inquest into the bouncy-castle incident.

  “Did someone invite you onto it?”

  “No,” admitted Daniel, who had a bad bruise on his forehead.

  “Then what were you doing there?”

  “It was Vex’s fault. As soon as she saw the castle, she just rushed off to join in. I could hardly keep up.”

  “Why did you want to keep up?”

  “To make sure everything was all right. You know, protect the children and so on.”

  “Hey,” interrupted Vex. “You were bouncing around too.”

  “Only in a supervisory capacity.”

  “You’re lucky the parents didn’t call the police,” said Moonglow. “I don’t know what you were thinking, invading a children’s party and taking over the bouncy castle.”

  “Do you think we could get one?” asked Vex, whose injured foot hadn’t diminished her enthusiasm.

  “No!” said Moonglow, sharply. “Were any children injured?”

  Daniel shook his head. “The collision only involved me and Vex. Brought about by Vex’s lack of bouncing skill, in my opinion.”

  “I was bouncing fine till you got in the way.”

  “Neither of you should have been there!” exclaimed Moonglow.

  Daniel didn’t see why Moonglow was making such a fuss about it. Having resolved to be nicer to Moonglow, it hurt to suffer such harsh criticism from her for what was, after all, only a minor incident. “It’s not like people were killed or anything,” he complained.

  “Well, if you can’t make it into college tomorrow, I’m not taking notes for you,” said Moonglow.

  Vex snorted. She too was finding Moonglow’s unforgiving attitude difficult to understand. “Lighten up. You’re starting to sound as grumpy as Aunt Malvie.”

  “Malveria hasn’t been grumpy since she got rid of you from the palace,” countered Moonglow.

>   Daniel laughed. It was true. The Fire Queen’s moods had certainly improved recently.

  “Remember when she used to arrive in floods of tears?”

  “She’s much happier now.”

  There was a dazzling flash of light in the living room as Malveria arrived, collapsing on the couch in a flood of tears.

  “Maybe not all the time,” said Moonglow.

  Malveria’s body shook with painful emotion.

  “I didn’t do anything,” said Vex, defensively.

  “I can’t stand it,” wailed Malveria, then she dissolved in tears again.

  Daniel shifted uncomfortably, ill at ease in the face of such powerful female misery. “Should I make some tea?” he suggested.

  Malveria raised her head from the cushion. “Tea will be nice. Though it will not make up for the complete ruin into which my reputation has now been propelled.”

  Daniel left the living room, leaving Moonglow to comfort the Fire Queen. Vex held back, still unsure if she would eventually be blamed for whatever had upset her aunt.

  “What’s the matter? Can we help?” asked Moonglow. The Fire Queen attempted to sit upright, failed, and buried her head in the cushion again, so it was hard to catch her words. But by the time Daniel arrived back with a tray, a teapot, three chipped mugs, and one nice cup for Malveria, Moonglow had just about grasped the problem.

  “Princess Kabachetka has an invitation to the MacRinnalch charity event in Edinburgh even though Malveria can’t go.”

  “Is that serious?” said Daniel, at which point the Fire Queen seemed to regain her strength.

  She sat up abruptly, eyes blazing. “Is it serious you ask? It is a disaster of dimension-shattering proportions. When the population learns of it, I will be the laughingstock of the fire nations. Even the ice nations may join in. That princess with her head of fake blond hair has secured an invitation to the very event that I have helped to bring about! It is intolerable!”

  Malveria held her handbag to her stomach for some comfort and accepted a cup of tea from Daniel.

  “Surely Thrix can get you an invitation,” said Moonglow.

  “Do not mention that treacherous creature to me! Thrix revels in my misfortune. Never again will I wear cheap, poorly designed garments from her incompetent sweatshop. Apart from possibly the new cocktail dress I am to pick up next week. After that I will have nothing to do with her.”

  “Oh dear,” said Moonglow, and she poured a little more tea into Malveria’s cup. “Have you been arguing again? What was it about?”

  The queen was silent for a few seconds. “I am not quite certain, now you ask. But Thrix was most treacherous anyway, delighting in my misfortune even though I have revived her disastrous love life. As if the mild inconvenience of a lunar eclipse was in any way equivalent to the trauma I’m facing!”

  Moonglow could make nothing of this, but Daniel knew about the upcoming eclipse. “Does it affect werewolves?” he asked Malveria.

  “So they claim. But I’m sure the enchantress is making too much of it.”

  “Opera’s boring anyway,” said Vex.

  The queen glared at her. “Silence, vile girl. Concentrate on healing your foot and completing your studies. Have you been studying?”

  “All the time!” enthused the young Fire Elemental. “I get gold stars every day.”

  “Is this true?” Malveria looked to Moonglow.

  “Eh…yes,” said Moonglow, who was aware that Vex simply awarded herself a gold star whenever she felt like it but didn’t want to betray her.

  Malveria looked mollified. “Well, see that you keep it up, Agrivex. If you fail miserably in your exams, you may find yourself in the western desert serving as cannon fodder for my army.” Malveria’s tears had now dried, and the fire dimmed in her eyes as she became morose. “The Mistress of the Werewolves is an inflexible woman and will never put aside her prejudices against the Hiyasta.” She sighed again and clutched her handbag tighter. “Really, without the comfort of this splendid Abukenti handbag, I believe I would simply give up and expire.”

  “It’s a beautiful handbag,” acknowledged Moonglow, sincerely.

  “Indeed it is. It has brought me great happiness. But it will not make up for the disgrace of Kabachetka appearing at the opera when I cannot do so. I simply dread to think what Beau DeMortalis will say.”

  Malveria finished her tea and accepted another cup, but her mood didn’t lighten. Even the annoyance of Vex trying to use the couch as a bouncy castle drew no more from her than a mild rebuke, as she contemplated her upcoming disgrace and what to do about it.

  Chapter 76

  Morag was annoyed. “Did it never strike you that this isn’t going to work? You want Kalix to face justice? The Mistress of the Werewolves will never allow it. You couldn’t even get it on the agenda at a council meeting.”

  “It will get on the agenda if I drag Kalix to the castle,” argued Marwanis. “They’ll have to do something.”

  Morag was skeptical. Even if Kalix had been condemned by the council, she didn’t believe they’d ever pass sentence on her.

  “You underestimate how much the council hates her. Just because her mother protects her doesn’t mean no one else wants to see her punished. The barons hate her for killing the old Thane, and half the council hates her for killing Sarapen. Even her brother Markus hates her. Verasa might be able to keep them in check while Kalix is far away, but things will change once she’s taken there.”

  “By the Douglas-MacPhees?”

  “Probably.”

  Morag laughed. “I don’t see them taking her back. Kalix killed Fergus. If they get hold of her, they’re more likely to kill her in revenge.”

  Marwanis didn’t reply, causing Morag MacAllister to look curiously at her.

  “Unless that’s what you’re hoping will happen anyway.”

  “I’m not planning to kill her in cold blood,” Marwanis replied.

  “Maybe you won’t be too unhappy if the Douglas-MacPhees do it for you.”

  Morag let it drop then, because she was now feeling too nauseous to argue or even talk, as a shadow began to creep over the moon. From the tiny balcony outside the flat they could hear Ruraich picking out a few notes with his fingers on his violin.

  “Does he never stop playing that damned thing?” Morag generally liked the sort of traditional music played by Ruraich, but now it grated. “I wish the moon would just disappear and get it over with.”

  Marwanis tried not to let herself succumb to depression. As a niece of the late Thane, she had a strong idea of how a well-bred werewolf should behave. It wasn’t fitting to let the world see how badly you felt.

  Morag was beyond making any pretense and let out a low moan while sinking further into her chair. “I should have stayed home. A werewolf can’t function during the eclipse.”

  “My great-great-grandfather David MacRinnalch led a raid on a castle on eclipse night,” declared Marwanis, with some pride, though the event had happened several hundred years ago.

  “To hell with David MacRinnalch,” snarled Morag. She glanced at the ceiling. “I can feel the moon going. No werewolf does anything on this night.”

  The front door flew open, almost torn from its hinges by a blow that shattered the lock. There in the sagging doorframe stood the slender werewolf form of Kalix.

  “Apart from Kalix MacRinnalch, apparently.”

  Marwanis and Morag rose to face her, and the three werewolves glared at each other, each of them showing their teeth. Kalix’s dark fur hung longer than the others.

  “I want to know who killed Gawain!” demanded Kalix.

  Marwanis looked puzzled. “Why would we know?”

  Chapter 77

  The enchantress suffered in the restaurant. Partly because she didn’t like the food, but mainly because of the eclipse. As the moon disappeared beneath the shadow of the Earth, she deeply regretted the bravado that had made her arrange a date on this of all nights. While the rest of the MacRinnalchs we
re huddling in their homes, she was struggling to maintain some appearance of normality as Captain Easterly told her about his day at the magazine, where he’d been reviewing a range of men’s shirts. At any other time, Thrix would have been fascinated. She loved talking about clothes. Unfortunately, as the moon disappeared, she felt as if her insides were being dragged out, piece by piece. She’d placed several spells on herself to carry her through the evening, but though her outward appearance remained flawless, inside she was suffering.

  Thrix, prone to dating disasters, was keen for the evening to go well. She summoned all her energy to keep the conversation going. When that proved too much, she at least tried to listen with interest. As the waiter brought them another bottle of red wine, she grabbed for it a little too enthusiastically, but if Easterly noticed, he was too tactful to show it. Buoyed by the alcohol, Thrix became a little more animated as she described her current problems. “I was absolutely counting on selling my range to Eldridges, but their buyer let me down.”

  “Kirsten Merkel?”

  “That’s the woman. She practically reneged on the deal. It wouldn’t have happened if that talentless hack Susi Surmata hadn’t let me down as well. No one can even get in touch with her these days.”

  Easterly leaned forward a few inches and looked suitably concerned. “I might be able to. Our editor knows her, I think. I’ll ask him. And Merkel’s not a bad woman either; we used to work together at Tatler.”

  “She hates me because I got the last Abukenti bag.”

  “That would annoy her. But I can probably win Kirsten over for you.”

  Thrix looked at Easterly with more affection than she’d expended on another human for a long time. Not only was he good company, he seemed to have valuable contacts as well.

  “It’s exactly what I need,” she thought. “A boyfriend who’s actually useful for something. Why has that never happened before?”

  She felt grateful to Malveria for introducing her to such an attractive man and regretted that they’d parted on such bad terms. Then she felt the effects of the wine and the eclipse, and she struggled to remain upright at the table, nodding vaguely at everything Easterly said.