Dominil glared at him but remained silent.
Albermarle made an impatient sound. “Stop trying to spoil it. Ask me why you can’t become a werewolf.”
Dominil eyed him without expression and remained silent. She tried to move but failed and remained on one knee beside her car at the back of the parking lot, hidden from view by the cars and the fog.
Albermarle quickly lost patience. “Fine. Don’t ask. That’s just like you. Well, I’ll tell you why you can’t become a werewolf. Because there’s a spell in place that’s emulating the effect of the lunar eclipse. Making you weak, nauseous, and generally powerless.” He drew a black gun from his pocket, slipping the safety catch and pointing it at Dominil. “You think you’re so superior, don’t you? Best degree at Oxford, and students falling over themselves to ask you out.” He frowned, as if again reliving some old bad memory, and raised his voice. “I should have been on that quiz team.”
Dominil remained silent.
“Who’s the clever one now? Me, that’s who. I’ve outsmarted you every step of the way. I’ve bugged your phone, listened to all your conversations, read your email, and followed you around the country. You couldn’t move without me knowing about it. And now I’ve brought you here. You’ve fallen right into my trap.” Albermarle smiled. “I’m smarter than you.”
A gentle breeze blew over Dominil’s face, again bringing with it the sound of Felicori, now singing an aria she knew well. Somewhere in the distance there was a muffled bang, a noise that might have been a gun being fired. Albermarle glanced over his shoulder. “I sent my two companions off to see what they might find. You might not be the only werewolf getting a silver bullet tonight.” He inched closer to Dominil. “Admit I’m smarter before I put a bullet through your heart.”
Dominil tried to gather her strength. Her intellect told her that it was hopeless, that she had no strength, that she wasn’t going to reach Albermarle before he pulled the trigger, but she didn’t intend to go down without a fight.
“Admit it!” roared Albermarle.
Dominil could see the gun vibrate slightly as Albermarle’s fury made him tremble. She sneered, though even moving her mouth seemed like an effort. “I’d never go out with you,” she said.
Albermarle’s eyes widened with fury. “That’s not what I was talking about!” he screamed. He kicked Dominil hard in the face, and she toppled to the ground. “I never wanted to go out with you! And I’m still more intelligent than you. That’s why I’m up here with the gun and you’re down there!” He walked forward till he stood right over Dominil. He pointed the black automatic pistol at her heart. “I’m smarter than you, and that’s all there is to it. Admit it or I’ll kill you.”
Chapter 169
Beau DeMortalis, Duke of the Black Castle, left the Duchess Gargamond’s townhouse later than he’d intended. Dawn was already breaking, and in a short while, the fiery daylight of the Hiyasta sun would illuminate the land. The duke frowned. It really wouldn’t do for him to be seen here. For one thing, he had no business being at the duchess’s townhouse, as she had withdrawn to her castle and hadn’t asked him to visit. For another, it would do his standing at court no good were it discovered that he was carrying on a liaison with the duchess’s junior kitchen maid.
“But who could have believed the duchess had such a beautiful junior kitchen maid?” reasoned the Duke. “It was simply beyond my power to resist.”
He pulled up his collar, lowered his head, and walked swiftly past the military training ground and barracks that until recently had housed the duchess’s regiment. If he could make it back into the rows of elegant villas that adjoined the palace, he could claim he was simply out for an early morning stroll. Anyone who knew him well might wonder why the famously well-dressed duke was taking a morning stroll in an evening coat, but even so, that was better than the queen learning of his liaison with a junior kitchen maid. Malveria had been irked by his comments about her recent losses at the card table and would welcome the chance to spread gossip about his rather shameful relationship. He paused as the hot morning wind brought the distant sound of marching feet to his ears. “That’s odd. Why is Commander Agripath marshaling troops at this unearthly hour?”
As he watched, the commander led out battalion after battalion of troops, making their way the short distance to the volcano, which dominated the landscape, rising high above the palace in the foreground. He was startled by the sudden appearance of First Minister Xakthan, running towards him in a manner quite unsuited to the dignity of the government’s most senior member. “First Minister? What is going on?”
“Distikka is mounting a coup! Commander Agripath is supporting her with his troops, and they’re heading for the volcano! Distikka believes she can take control of the Great Volcano.”
“Preposterous. Only the queen can do that.”
“Or a member of the royal family. Which Distikka now claims to be. She’s proclaiming herself ruler at this moment.”
“But this is simply ridiculous,” said the duke. “Where is the queen? She’ll swiftly put an end to this nonsense.”
First Minister Xakthan looked anguished. “The queen is missing. She has not returned from the Earth! No one knows where she is!”
“Then who’s defending the volcano?”
“Fifty troops from her personal guard. That’s all there is. Every other soldier in the capital is under the command of Agripath and Distikka.”
The duke took off his coat, laying it on the ground with regret. It was an exceptionally fine coat, and he was fanatically fond of his elegant clothes, but it would hinder him in running. He loosened his sword in his scabbard and set off at a sprint towards the volcano. As he ran, he tried to sense where Queen Malveria might be. Her powerful aura could usually be perceived this close to the palace, but the duke searched in vain. In this hour of great crisis, there was no sign of Malveria.
* * *
The Fire Queen was stranded somewhere in limbo between the dimension of the Earth and her own. Immediately after she’d received the warning from Princess Kabachetka, Malveria had flown with all haste back to her realm, but instead of arriving back in an instant in the hot environs of her palace, as she normally would have done, she found herself trapped in a cold region of endless gray. Somehow the pathway between the worlds had been filled with some soft ethereal substance that she couldn’t penetrate.
Malveria raised her hands to firebolts of the most powerful energy, seeking to clear the obstruction out of the way, but it was useless. Her fire was enveloped by the gray mist, and it hardly receded at all.
“This is no use,” she raged. “I’m making no progress. Eventually my power will run out, and I still won’t have reached the palace. Damn Kabachetka, and damn Distikka!”
Malveria turned around and headed back to Earth to seek assistance from the enchantress, but neither was this easy. The way back was also full of the gray mist, hiding the way, and obstructing her movements. But it was less dense, and through sheer force of will, the queen edged her way slowly back towards the Earth.
Chapter 170
When Beatrice MacRinnalch and Heather MacAllister stormed out of the building, Markus wasn’t sure what to do. Should he go after them? He didn’t like the way they’d left together and had the uncomfortable feeling that they might now be on the grounds together, criticizing him. Whichever way you looked at it, he did seem to be at fault for ending up at one event with two girlfriends. Markus vacillated. If he went after them, he’d probably miss the start of Felicori’s performance. But if he went into the auditorium alone, the disappearance of his date would probably cause comment. What if he located them anyway? There didn’t seem much chance of smoothing things over. They’d probably just unite against him. Markus knew, from a few previous painful episodes, that that was likely to happen.
Finally, some sort of sense of duty made him leave the building in pursuit. It was dark and foggy outside, and though Beatrice and Heather were both werewolves quite
capable of looking after themselves, he didn’t like the thought of them wandering around, probably upset. “I’d better go and find them. And apologize, for all the good that will do.”
* * *
In the extensive grounds outside, Orion and Pictor were making their way through a small wooded area, hunting for werewolves.
“But if we meet any, how will we know they’re werewolves?” wondered Orion. “We can’t just go shooting people and hope for the best.”
“If they’re sick, they’ll be werewolves,” Pictor reminded him. “Anyone stumbling along looking ill must be affected by the spell.”
Orion wasn’t fully convinced. “Do you believe that? I think Albermarle is just making it up.”
“Well, if he is, we’re probably all going to die.”
They crept as silently as they could through the trees, not knowing where they were going or whom they might meet. Both of them regretted ever coming here with Albermarle to this strange, hostile, foggy place, full of werewolves who may or may not be suffering from some sort of sorcerously produced illness. When Albermarle had explained his plan, it hadn’t sounded so bad. Now they were here, they didn’t like it much.
Chapter 171
The enchantress looked at Captain Easterly, barely able to comprehend what was happening. “You’re a hunter?”
“I am. From the guild.”
“But I’d have known.”
“Princess Kabachetka helped me. She hid me from you. And she made this spell from Minerva’s notes.”
Thrix’s eyes wrinkled. “But I was in love with you.”
She tried to stand up, but her strength was gone. She couldn’t become a werewolf, and she couldn’t summon a spell. She could hardly raise herself on one elbow. The nausea from Kabachetka’s sorcery merged with a great wave of despair as she realized that the man she’d fallen in love with was about to kill her. Another tear escaped from her eye. She wiped it away and again attempted to change into her werewolf shape. Nothing happened. For the first time in her long life, Thrix was unable to transform. The false eclipse had robbed her of all her werewolf powers. It flickered through her mind that Minerva really knew how to construct a spell. Unfortunately she’d never get the chance to congratulate her old teacher. Thrix composed her face, gathered her MacRinnalch spirit, and spoke to Easterly. “So what are you waiting for?”
There was a long moment of silence. Easterly could feel his heart beating wildly as he stood with the gun pointed at Thrix’s chest. The sound of it drowned out the strains of the opera, still floating over from Andamair House. He lowered his gun. “I love you too,” he said.
Thrix and Easterly looked at each other, not knowing what to do or say. Thrix felt herself crying and didn’t attempt to wipe away the tears. She shivered and then convulsed as another wave of pain racked her body.
“I didn’t know it would hurt you this badly,” said Easterly. He slid his gun back into its holster. His jacket had slid from Thrix’s shoulders, and he placed it over her again to warm her. “I’m sorry.”
Their faces were close together. Easterly brushed a tear from Thrix’s face then leaned closer to her. At that moment, there was a crashing noise from the top of the hedge, and a fierce growling. A slender brown shape dropped to the ground. It was Kalix. Kalix as a werewolf, apparently unaffected by Kabachetka’s spell. Her jaws hung open, and her eyes were insane.
“Bad hunter,” she snarled.
“Kalix, wait—” began Thrix.
Kalix didn’t hear her. Before Easterly could react, Kalix sank her talons into his shoulders, dragged him towards her, and bit his neck. There was a terrible cracking sound as bones broke. Blood splattered over Kalix, Thrix, and the hedges around them. Kalix let go of Easterly and growled as his lifeless body fell to the ground. She glared down at the corpse.
“Bad hunter,” she said again. Then, with hardly a glance at Thrix, she was off, scrambling and leaping over the tall hedges, leaving Thrix on the bench with the body of her former lover a few feet away and his blood splattered over her golden hair.
Chapter 172
Dominil looked up and laughed. “You’re not smart, Albermarle. You’re an idiot.”
“An idiot? I’m the one who trapped you here! Maybe I should just pull this trigger!”
“If you weren’t an idiot, you’d have done something better with your life than hunt werewolves.”
“Werewolves deserve to be hunted!”
Dominil almost smiled. “You didn’t seem to think that when you kept asking me out.”
“I didn’t know you were a werewolf then.”
“Maybe if you put your efforts into finding a girlfriend instead of hunting werewolves, you wouldn’t still be obsessed with me.”
“That’s it,” cried Albermarle. “Now I’m really going to kill you.” He pointed the gun but lowered it again. “You know I’m more intelligent than you. You just won’t admit it.”
Dominil tried again to become a werewolf but failed. She wondered if she could possibly keep Albermarle talking till the spell wore off. If it ever wore off, something about which she had no evidence. “I’ve never counted an encyclopedic knowledge of comics as a sign of intelligence,” she said.
“I know a lot more than that!”
“Really?” The music floated over the parking lot. “What’s this aria?”
Albermarle looked uncomfortable. “Opera was never my strong point.”
Dominil laughed, though the effort hurt her.
“You just think you’re so superior, don’t you!” yelled Albermarle. “Well, you’re not. And no amount of changing the subject to opera or comics alters the fact that I won. I trapped you here. I’m smarter than you.” Albermarle drew himself up to his full height. “And you know what? I’m over you, Dominil MacRinnalch. I don’t care how intelligent or attractive you think you are. You’re nothing. You’ve got no emotions. You’re going to live your whole life and never love anything. At least I know what loving something means.” Albermarle put his gun back in his concealed holster. “Not only am I smarter than you, I’m superior. You see, I’m capable of changing. I’m not a robot like you. I can change my mind. And now I don’t care enough about you to even kill you. Go on, be a werewolf. I don’t care. I outsmarted you, and now I’m leaving. You can spend the rest of your life being miserable and caring about nothing. You’d have been lucky to get a date with me. You don’t deserve it.”
Dominil dragged herself to her feet. “Leaving would be a good idea. If you stay here, I’ll kill you.”
“You’ll kill me? Not very likely. I’ve got a gun, and you can barely move.”
“Maybe so. But I’m Dominil MacRinnalch, and I’ll tear your arm off before you can pull the trigger.”
Albermarle hesitated. “Rubbish. You can’t turn into a werewolf.”
“I’ll do it anyway.” Dominil bared her teeth.
Albermarle took a step backwards. “You’re nothing. I’m over you. I’m leaving.”
He turned to go. A dark shape dropped from the sky, coming from the top of the truck. It landed on Albermarle. He screamed as Kalix bit into his neck. They crashed to the ground together, but such was Albermarle’s strength that he managed to drag himself to his feet, and stood for a moment with Kalix hanging onto his neck, her feet right off the ground. Then he succumbed to the terrible pressure of her jaws. His arteries ruptured, and he collapsed to the ground, dying in seconds. Kalix disentangled herself, rose to her feet, and growled.
“Bad hunter.” Kalix turned her blood-soaked snout towards Dominil and snarled. “Transform.”
“I can’t.”
“Yes, you can. It’s night. Make the change.”
Dominil struggled to rise. “I can’t change. Some sort of spell. I don’t know why it’s not affecting you.”
“You have to change!” yelled Kalix.
“Why?”
“So I can kill you.”
Chapter 173
The Fire Queen limped back to Earth,
arriving in the gardens of Andamair House to the unexpected sight of the enchantress cradling the dead body of her lover.
Malveria gasped at the sight. “Thrix! What happened? Did you find him cheating on you? Did you have to take such brutal revenge?”
Thrix raised her eyes, which Malveria noted, were caked with tears, to the detriment of her makeup. “Captain Easterly was a werewolf hunter.”
“Preposterous! I introduced him to you.”
“Thanks for that.”
Malveria stared at Easterly’s body, very offended that he’d turned out to be a werewolf hunter. “What a mournful occurrence. It’s a sad day when one is forced to slaughter a lover. I myself—”
“I didn’t kill him.”
“You didn’t?”
“No. I broke down in tears and sobbed like a baby.”
“Oh.” Malveria looked dubious. Easterly had clearly died from a werewolf bite.
“I was still crying when Kalix arrived. She killed him.”
“Ah. Was he about to kill you?”
Thrix shook her head. “I don’t think so. He loved me too. Or so he said. We never got the chance to discuss it fully.”
“Kalix is not one to let romance stand in the way of a good massacre.”
Thrix started to cry.
“Dearest Enchantress, I sympathize greatly with your pain. But I cannot console you at this moment, nor let you weep. I need your help, most urgently, or my kingdom will fall.”
“What?” sniffed Thrix.
Malveria apprised her of the situation. “So you see, Kabachetka and Distikka have outsmarted us completely. Distikka will soon take control of the Great Volcano and the realm.”
“Can she really do that?”
“If she is a blood relative, as she claims, then yes.”
Thrix let go of Easterly.
Malveria helped her to her feet. She glanced at the blood on her hands and clothes and shuddered.
Applause thundered inside Andamair House as Felicori completed another aria, and the sound rolled over the grounds outside.
The Curse of the Wolf Girl Page 53
