Lonely Werewolf Girl

by Martin Millar

  “We’ve fully discussed this already,” said Thrix. “And to answer your original question, I’ve no idea where Kalix is.”

  Sarapen regarded her grimly. He sipped the rest of his whisky.

  “Sister. We are not enemies. For the good of the family, I appeal to you to help me locate Kalix.”

  “So that she can be taken home and killed?”

  “If the council decides it’s appropriate. Why are you protecting the girl? I was under the impression you also found her annoying.”

  “I do,” admitted the Enchantress. “But finding my sister annoying is not the same as wanting her dead. I repeat, I do not believe she was well treated at the castle.”

  This was something which Sarapen did not want to hear and his eyes blazed.

  “You will not refer to that child’s foolish fantasies. You know as well as I do that she was mad from birth. The very notion of her making such vile accusations is enough to make any decent member of the family sick. Had I got my hands on her before you hid her, Thrix, I would have ripped her apart.”

  “But you did get your hands on her,” retorted Thrix. “You pulled her off the Thane before she could kill him. And as I heard the story she then fixed her teeth around your werewolf throat and would have kept them there if your servants hadn’t dragged her off.

  “No one has ever put their teeth around my werewolf throat,” growled Sarapen. His eyes narrowed. He had had enough of this conversation.

  “Where is she?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Sarapen seemed on the point of springing. Behind the mystical shield the Fire Queen got ready to intervene. She was uncertain if Thrix’s sorcerous powers were strong enough to hold off her brother. Strong enough in daylight while he was human, she imagined, but the light was now fading outside.

  “Tell me all you know of Kalix,” demanded Sarapen.

  It would have been easy for Thrix to defuse the situation. She could have told Sarapen that Kalix no longer had her pendant and was not well hidden. Armed with this information, Sarapen would simply have departed to sniff her out himself. But Thrix was annoyed at the arrogant way her brother had marched into her office, demanding information. She suggested that perhaps it was time for him to leave.

  “You’re asking me to leave?” said Sarapen, as if unable to believe his ears.

  “I’m a busy woman,” said Thrix, pointing to the sketches on her desk.

  Sarapen swept his arm over her desk, dragging every drawing onto the floor. Thrix gasped. She could barely believe that her brother had done such a thing. To sweep her designs from her desk like they were so many scraps of worthless paper. The Enchantress was furious. She uttered a word, and a bolt of power threw Sarapen across the room. He thudded into the far wall. As he came to a halt his eyes held a look of incredulity. He could not believe that his younger sister had dared to assault him. At that moment night fell. Both Sarapen and Thrix, fully in tune with the moon, felt it in their bones. Sarapen growled and by the time his growl faded he had transformed into his werewolf shape.

  Behind the magical barrier, Moonglow quailed. Sarapen in his werewolf form was the scariest thing she had ever seen. Immense, bestial, his wolf’s face was huge, his jaws like a steel trap, a nightmare vision, far more frightening than either Kalix or her attackers had been. When Kalix had transformed she had retained her youthful grace but Sarapen was a monster to stalk a girl’s nightmares.

  In the same instant Thrix transformed. Daniel was fascinated to see that as a werewolf Thrix was still blonde. Long golden hair hung down from her head, and from her arms and shoulders.

  “I’ll kill you,” roared Sarapen, and leapt forward. He grimaced as the Enchantress fired off another spell but such was his strength it barely impaired his progress. The Fire Queen was on the point of revealing herself when the office door opened. Ann put her head through the door.

  “Your brother Markus,” she announced.

  33

  Before falling for Talixia, Markus had had a string of lovers. With his combination of male strength and feminine looks Markus had always been attractive to women. These were usually casual affairs but with Talixia it had become serious. They’d been to the opera, the theatre, and the cinema. They’d even discussed plans for decorating a house together.

  Markus had risen late, waiting till Talixia had gone to work. She had gone off to photograph children’s clothes for a catalogue. It wasn’t a job she was especially pleased to be doing but it brought in money. Talixia’s werewolf family were not wealthy. She struggled to pay the rent each month. Markus found this interesting. He admired Talixia for her efforts, and for always refusing when he tried to give her money, no matter how discreet he attempted to make it seem.

  He paced naked around her small flat. He looked through her wardrobe. He regretted that Talixia did not have a better collection of clothes. He’d have bought her anything she wanted but she wouldn’t accept extravagant gifts. She did have one new item, a short blue dress she’d brought home from a shoot. Markus studied it. It wasn’t a bad dress. Well cut, and the colour was quite suitable. He would have liked to have tried it on but Talixia was smaller than him so he knew it wouldn’t fit. It would not do for her to discover that he had stretched her new dress. It could lead to awkwardness.

  Whilst dressing in his own clothes, he frowned, and wondered again if he should talk to Talixia. Generally it was a difficult topic to raise. Markus knew this from experience. He still winced at the memory of a previous girlfriend who’d coped well with the discovery that he was a werewolf but had thrown him out after catching him wearing one of her blouses. He shrugged. Today he had other things to worry about. He’d promised his mother he would visit Thrix. Markus was not looking forward to this. He hated his sister. For reasons he could not explain to his mother, Markus would have been far happier never to see Thrix again.

  The moment he entered Thrix’s office and found himself in the presence of two growling werewolves he transformed into his own werewolf shape.

  “So. My beloved siblings are already fighting.”

  Sarapen, who had been attempting to land his great claws on Thrix’s neck, was not pleased at the interruption. Thrix, busy fending him off with her own considerable strength aided by some sorcery, stepped back and growled.

  “Did I fail to make it clear I wasn’t keen on family visits?”

  Daniel and Moonglow were still hidden in the corner. They didn’t realise that they were seeing something never before seen by human eyes; three werewolves of the MacRinnalch ruling family together in werewolf form. If they did not appreciate the uniqueness of the event they certainly were riveted, and scared.

  “Is this barrier strong enough?” whispered Daniel, as the werewolves continued to talk angrily to each other.

  “Possibly not,” muttered the Fire Queen. “Are you frightened?”

  “Yes,” admitted Daniel.

  Malveria smiled indulgently.

  “I will strengthen it,” she said, and made a slight motion with her hand, adding her own mystic strength to the barrier. “There. Now you are very undetectable. And I will leave you so for the meantime, because my darling Thrix is now confronted by two angry brothers and I fear for her safety.”

  With that Malveria passed through the barrier, instantly materialising at the Enchantress’s shoulder. Sarapen growled angrily. He regarded fire elementals as low forms of life, and particularly disliked the Hiyasta.

  “So it was you who skulked in the corner.”

  “Excuse me,” replied the Fire Queen. “I do not skulk. I remained hidden out of politeness. I am a guest of Thrix, unlike you.”

  “Do not interfere with family business, Hiyasta,” warned Sarapen.

  “I have no inclination to interfere in werewolf business,” retorted Malveria, wrinkling her nose slightly as she uttered the word werewolf. “But I dislike to see anyone picking on my good friend.”

  “Werewolves do not make friends with Hiyastas,” said Sarapen
.

  “She’s a better friend than you ever were,” said Thrix. The Fire Queen looked delighted. It was so nice to have a really loyal friend, even a werewolf.

  Despite the hostility between their races, Markus did not really dislike Malveria. On the few occasions they’d met he’d found her to be quite an attractive character. He tried to make some sort of friendly greeting. It was difficult to smile as a werewolf, but his tone was conciliatory.

  “Greetings, Fire Queen,” he said. “I’m sorry to meet you while engaged in this quarrel. No doubt you’re aware of the trouble our young sister has caused us.”

  “You will not discuss our clan matters with her!” roared Sarapen.

  “I’m sure she’s heard most of it already,” said Markus. He faced his brother and looked him in the eye. Though Sarapen was the stronger Markus would never back down to him. The brothers started growling at each other and Thrix growled at both of them. Sarapen seemed on the point of striking his brother when the intercom sounded.

  “Your mother is on the phone. She says it’s extremely important.”

  Thrix sighed. There was no occasion which her mother did not see fit to interrupt. She picked up the phone in her werewolf paw, not without difficulty.

  “Yes?”

  Thrix listened for a few minutes while her brothers looked on. They were frustrated at the interruption but could hardly start fighting when their mother was on the phone.

  “I will,” said Thrix, and put down the phone.

  She spoke softly to her brothers.

  “The Thane is dead.”

  34

  An hour or so later, Daniel and Moonglow were still sitting behind the magical barrier in the corner of the office. The room was empty. On hearing of the Thane’s death Sarapen had departed, almost without a word. The MacRinnalch Clan was now leaderless and it was his duty to return to the castle. Everything else could wait.

  Thrix and Markus were also making plans to travel back to Scotland. There would be a meeting of the Great Council as soon as its members could be assembled. Markus had departed to gather his belongings. He and Thrix had temporarily suspended hostilities and would fly home with their Mother, the Mistress of the Werewolves. The flight from London to Scotland would only take an hour or so. Thrix didn’t want to go but knew she couldn’t get out of it. Not turning up for the Thane’s funeral and the subsequent council meeting would be quite unthinkable, as her mother had pointed out.

  “Don’t worry mother,” Thrix told her. “I won’t miss the funeral.”

  As Ann made travel arrangements Thrix was gathering together computer discs and making sure that all her current files were on her laptop. With luck, she could continue her work while at the castle. She instructed the efficient Ann to rearrange her schedule.

  “It’s come at a bad time but I should be back in three days. See if the people from Milan can reschedule. If they can’t I’ll try and set up a video conference link from the castle.”

  “What about the children?” enquired Malveria.

  “The children?”

  “The children who are still concealed in your office.”

  “I’d forgotten about them. I’ll send them away.”

  “And what about Kalix?”

  “She can take care of herself.”

  The Fire Queen looked at her.

  “Really, it seems that she cannot.”

  The Enchantress wondered out loud why Malveria had suddenly developed some concern for Kalix. The Queen shrugged.

  “I have not. But I am amused by the boy who called me beautiful and then blushed. You know when we were hiding he said he was scared. Is that not funny?”

  Thrix didn’t quite see why it was funny. She really had no time to indulge the Fire Queen and her strange fancies.

  “I’m just too rushed to do anything, Malveria.”

  “Perhaps I could provide the young people with another Pendant of Tamol to give to your errant sister? If you don’t object?”

  “Why would you do that?” asked Thrix. Fire elementals were not particularly friendly to humans as a rule. Besides, the required pendant was not an everyday object. It was a prized item. Its sorcerous uses were many and even a powerful being like Malveria would not lightly give one away.

  The Fire Queen shrugged. She didn’t exactly know why she would do it. But she had been entertained by the arguments between the werewolves and she could see some amusement to follow if Kalix remained hidden. Malveria had been very bored recently. Who knew what interesting things might occur if she gave the two young humans a pendant for Kalix?

  “Do it if you want,” said Thrix.

  Markus arrived back at the offices. Their mother would be here shortly. Thrix told Markus that she had some arrangements still to make with her designers and buyers and asked him if he’d mind waiting upstairs in her office for a little while.

  In the office, Daniel and Moonglow were becoming restive.

  “This has been a really bad day,” complained Daniel.

  “Do you think they’ve forgotten us?” asked Moonglow.

  They were uncertain whether to stay where they were or venture out.

  “I suppose we should be safe,” said Moonglow. “After all, we’re in the middle of a busy office building. They can’t just eat us.”

  They looked at each other, doubtfully.

  “Let’s wait here a while,” suggested Daniel.

  The door opened. Markus entered. Daniel and Moonglow were hidden behind a barrier of very strong sorcery and even Markus’s werewolf senses did not detect them. Markus was dressed for a funeral in a sober black suit. While making his quick journey home he’d taken time to brush his curly chestnut hair and was now looking his best. They watched as he paced the room. He seemed to be interested in the rail of clothes in the far corner. Now that he was on his own, Moonglow thought him quite attractive. Strong and handsome, but feminine, in a way. His hair hung in curls over his brow and shoulders, reminding her of an old picture of Marc Bolan that Daniel had on a T-shirt.

  Markus was fingering the rack of clothes. Suddenly he seemed to make a decision. He crossed quickly to the door, locked it, then took off his jacket and shirt. His torso, Moonglow noted, was lean and muscular. He then took a blouse from the rack and slipped into it with practised ease.

  Daniel and Moonglow looked at each other, astounded. The blouse was of flowing yellow silk, an extremely feminine article. Markus was now examining himself in the large mirror. Not preening, or parading around, or doing anything extravagant. Just examining himself. Apparently satisfied, he swiftly removed the blouse, hung it up carefully then put his own shirt and jacket back on. He unlocked the office door just as Thrix and Malveria appeared.

  Daniel and Moonglow were utterly astonished.

  “What a freak,” hissed Daniel. Moonglow nodded her head vaguely, as if in agreement. But what Moonglow was actually thinking was that Markus in the yellow silk blouse was one of the most beautiful things she had ever seen.

  35

  Kalix and Gawain had been wild lovers. At fourteen Kalix had been skinny but healthy, vigorous and enthusiastic. Gawain had been a frequent visitor to the castle while his father was still alive. His father, an honoured member of the MacRinnalch Clan, had been a friend of the ruling family.

  Kalix would creep through the stone corridors of Castle MacRinnalch to Gawain’s room in the chambers where guests were housed. She was cunning, and extremely stealthy, capable of flattening herself into the dark shadows when anyone was near and remaining there in silence till they’d gone. She went so quietly that not even the castle mice were aware of her passing. Finally she’d arrive at Gawain’s chamber, sometimes in werewolf form or sometimes as human, depending on her mood. Gawain would be waiting for her, catching her scent as she approached the door and hurriedly letting her in. Gawain, eighteen at the time, had some misgivings about what the Thane might say were he to catch them but Kalix allowed him little time to dwell on his thoughts. She’d leap onto th
e bed and they would make love for the rest of the night till finally Gawain was exhausted and Kalix would lie like a wolf, panting and growling in satisfaction. Just before the long Scottish night ended Kalix would make the return journey and then sleep late into the day. This never aroused suspicion though it brought criticism from her mother.

  “It’s no wonder her tutor refuses to teach her,” Verasa complained to Kalix’s brothers. “She is the laziest girl you could ever imagine.”

  Her brothers indulged their mother’s complaints but they had no real interest in Kalix or her activities. As for the Thane, he never seemed to pay any attention to her at all.

  Now Kalix lay starved, broken and bleeding under a rotting pile of cardboard boxes in a dank alleyway in South London. She had passed into unconsciousness some time ago. She dreamed that she was with Gawain, running through Colburn Wood in pursuit of a stag. They killed the stag and ate it by a campfire in a clearing, then washed the blood from their mouths in a stream. Then they lay on the bank under a full moon, watching the dark water flow by. They discussed what they might do together and Gawain said he always wanted to travel the world. Kalix was enthusiastic, and said she’d travel with him. She would go anywhere with Gawain.

  36

  Decembrius found his visit to the twins extremely trying. There was no meeting of minds. There was very little sensible conversation at all. The two young werewolves appeared to inhabit a world of their own to which Decembrius was not invited. Beauty and Delicious carried on a continual dialogue with each other which Decembrius had some difficulty in even understanding.

  “Pass the skunk, bitch.”

  “It’s under your guitar, ho-bag.”

  And so on. Used to the more formal ways of the castle, Decembrius was perplexed. The sisters would insult each other and then laugh uproariously at things which did not seem to be at all funny. When he addressed them by their real names, Butix and Delix, they laughed so hard he thought they might never stop.

  “Butix and Delix? Who’s that?”