Lonely Werewolf Girl
Page 10
“I don’t like the sound of them!”
The twins seemed completely unconcerned that the head of the clan was gravely ill.
“Clan? What clan?”
“The MacRinnalchs.”
“That’s a funny name for a clan.”
“Thane,” said Beauty.
“Thane,” said Delicious. “Thane Thane Thane Thane Thane.”
“Thane Thane Thane Thane,” added Beauty.
Beauty’s hair was long, and a violent shade of blue. Delicious’s hair was also long, and a very shocking pink. Decembrius found himself wondering if the colour remained when they transformed. He could hardly imagine what their behaviour might be like when they were werewolves.
Delicious burrowed into the mess on the floor, looking for something or other. She tossed some empty pizza cartons out the way and uncovered a great wad of money, a huge pile of £20 notes held together with a rubber band, several thousand pounds worth of currency. She threw it at her sister.
“Go and buy something.”
Beauty threw the bundle of money back. The rubber band split and £20 notes fluttered across the room. The sisters dissolved in laughter. They were, Decembrius recalled, very rich. Their father had multiplied his wealth by astute investments in the stock market and the sisters were shrewd enough to leave their capital in the hands of their London brokers, living off the substantial income it generated. They would never be short of money.
“Would you be interested in attending the next meeting of the Great Council?” he ventured. “You are still members of course.”
“Who are you?” asked Beauty, and looked puzzled.
Decembrius sighed. His mobile phone rang. It was Sarapen.
“The Thane is dead,” said Sarapen. “Return home immediately. Have you made any progress with the cousins?”
“No,” admitted Decembrius.
He took his leave, saluting the sisters politely on the way out. No matter how degenerate, they were still members of the MacRinnalch ruling family, after all. Decembrius left their house feeling dissatisfied. Not just because he had failed in his mission. Decembrius regarded himself as one of the more fashionable of the young MacRinnalch werewolves. Compared to the twins however, he felt as old-fashioned as the Thane. He wondered if he might have another ear piercing.
“Do you think he could get us a gig in Scotland?” asked Delicious, after he’d gone.
“Our band broke up,” her sister pointed out.
“So it did. What happened?”
They couldn’t remember. But night had now fallen and it was time to go out and visit the local bars so they hurried to their bedrooms and started dragging out clothes from every drawer and cupboard. Beauty and Delicious had a lot of clothes. They always wanted to look good when they hit the town, and they generally succeeded.
37
“You intend to nominate Markus for Thane?”
Thrix was taken aback. She knew well that her mother was closer to her second son but it had never occurred to her that there would be any serious opposition to Sarapen.
“This will tear the family apart.”
“Our family is not close, dear. You know that.”
They were flying to Scotland, together with Markus. On a signal from his mother, Markus had left Verasa alone with her daughter.
“Mother, I’m shocked.”
“I know this is all very sudden. I had intended to do a good deal more in the way of preparation but the Thane’s death has come much quicker than I expected.”
“Do you really expect the Great Council to vote for Markus? You know what Sarapen is going to do when he learns of this?”
“He will accept the decision of the Great Council like the traditionally minded werewolf he is.”
“I doubt that very much. Thanks for the warning mother. I’m walking into that council chamber with a protection spell ready and I’d advise you to take a bodyguard.”
Verasa pretended to be shocked.
“The son of the Mistress of the Werewolves does not attack his mother.”
“The daughter of the Thane doesn’t attack her father either but that didn’t stop Kalix. Mother, have you really thought this through?”
“I have given it a great deal of consideration.”
Thrix was too surprised by the suggestion to easily marshal her thoughts. She certainly did not like Sarapen. But she didn’t like Markus either. They had suspended hostilities temporarily while they returned to the castle but she saw no prospect of a lasting friendship.
“Why are you so set against Sarapen? Just because you like Markus better?”
“I love all my children equally,” replied Verasa. “But Sarapen has not adapted to the modern world. Markus will be a much better figure to take the clan forward.”
Thrix shook her head. She found it hard not to smile at the notion of her mother loving all her children equally. In reality Markus came a long way above them all and always had done.
“I really don’t want to be involved in this. If Sarapen and his followers start fighting Markus and his followers it will quite likely spill out from the estates. I don’t want one of my fashion shows to be interrupted by a crowd of brawling werewolves. The magazine editors wouldn’t like it.”
“Perhaps it would give them something new and engaging to write about, dear,” said Verasa, who was not entirely without a sense of humour.
The Thane’s death had come too quickly for Verasa. The Great Council consisted of seventeen members and the new Thane required nine votes to be elected. The Mistress of the Werewolves was not yet in a position to guarantee Markus enough of these votes.
“I understand that the American editors of Deportment magazine are staging a European fashion show in New York in a few months time,” said Verasa.
“So?”
“So think how beneficial it would be for you to show your designs there.”
“The show is only for Italian designers,” said Thrix, a little surprised that her mother even knew of the event.
“That was the plan,” said Verasa. “However I was talking to the chairman of the board of the company which owns the magazine just the other week, while I was giving a substantial donation to a charity of which he’s the patron. I really feel that the magazine might be willing to extend their foreign fashion week to include one or two select British designers.”
Thrix looked at her mother.
“Are you trying to bribe me?”
“Bribe you?” The Mistress of the Werewolves looked shocked. “My goodness, Thrix. You do surprise me sometimes with the amusing things you say. You know I’m always on the lookout for the welfare of my children.”
38
Daniel and Moonglow travelled home on the bus.
“Just to clarify matters in my own mind,” said Daniel. “We are attempting to help a crazy young Scottish werewolf with a long history of anti-social behaviour. The other werewolves can’t help us right now because they have to elect a new leader. But a fire spirit - or elemental, whatever that is - who’s queen of a different dimension but just pops over to the Earth to get her clothes made by one of these werewolves, is on her way back to her own dimension to find a new mystic pendant and then she’s going to help us find the young werewolf who is presumably roaming the streets at this moment.”
“That seems to be about right,” said Moonglow.
“Did we perhaps go insane?” wondered Daniel.
“I don’t think so.”
“Because if we did, you know, we might not realise. This bus might be an ambulance taking us to the asylum and we wouldn’t know anything about it because we’re insane.”
“But we’re both here thinking the same thoughts,” pointed out Moonglow. “I don’t think we’d both get struck by the same kind of insanity right at the same time.”
“What if you’re not here?” said Daniel. “It might just be me that’s crazy.”
He started to look worried. Moonglow pinched him hard on the arm.
“To let you know it was real.”
“Pinching only works when you think you’re dreaming,” said Daniel, crossly. “It doesn’t work when you think you’re crazy.”
When they arrived home Moonglow reapplied her nail varnish because she’d become self-conscious about the poor state of her nails while conversing with Thrix and the Fire Queen, both of whose nail varnish was absolutely perfect. Meanwhile Daniel lay on the couch listening to Slayer and pretending that none of this was really happening. The door bell rang. Moonglow opened the door to find Malveria looking pleased with herself.
“Once I was confused by door bells but now I have quite mastered the art. Shall we go?”
“Please come in,” said Moonglow. “Daniel isn’t quite ready yet.”
Malveria, who was perhaps eight hundred years old, though time in her dimension was not exactly the same as time on earth, tripped into the little apartment with the enthusiasm of a young girl. Really, she had been bored in her dimension for a long time. Since getting rid of her family and destroying all of her serious rivals with her immense power she hadn’t known what to do with herself. It was good being absolute mistress of her realm but for the last fifty years or more she’d been suffering from a troubling sense of tedium. Meeting Thrix and entering the world of Haute Couture had greatly improved her life. And now this visit to Daniel and Moonglow promised to be very entertaining. She hoped that Daniel would blush again. It amused her so. And perhaps the girl Moonglow might explain why she only wore black clothes. Could she be a sorceress?
“Mind the steps,” said Moonglow, leading Malveria upstairs. “The light isn’t working.”
Malveria snapped her fingers and light appeared, illuminating the narrow staircase.
“Eh… thank you,” said Moonglow.
In the living room Daniel was still lying on the couch. Malveria was a little offended by this, which Moonglow sensed.
“Get up,” she said. “We have a visitor.”
Daniel roused himself to a sitting position.
“Would you like something to eat?” asked Moonglow, who was always a polite hostess. “We have pop-tarts.”
“I absolutely want a pop-tart,” said the Fire Queen, enthusiastically. “What is it?”
“I’ll just put one in the toaster for you,” said Moonglow, and went off to the kitchen. Malveria followed at her heels, eager to see what a toaster was. Daniel trooped after them. The kitchen in their new flat was just large enough for three people, a fridge and a small cooker.
“I’m sorry about the mess,” said Moonglow.
“Have you dismissed your servants?”
“Eh… no, we don’t have any servants.”
“No servants at all?”
Malveria looked at them suspiciously, wondering if they were lying.
“Not a servant to be found,” said Daniel.
“That is so strange. Do you make your own food?”
“Well, we generally get pizza delivered.”
“By slaves?”
Moonglow made tea while the pop-tart cooked in the toaster.
“Did you bring a pendant for Kalix?” she asked.
“I did,” replied the Fire Queen.
The Pendant of Tamol had cost Malveria a lot. To get it she’d had to trade with a neighbouring king and his asking price had been a great deal of gold, several secret spells and the return of two hostages. Malveria had paid his price, substantial though it was. She produced a small pendant from her handbag.
“This will hide Kalix.”
“It’s very nice of you to bring it,” said Moonglow.
The Fire Queen was pleased that Moonglow showed some appreciation. Noticing that Daniel was being very quiet, she turned to face him.
“Did you like the little werewolf girl?” she asked him.
“Eh… well…”
“He called her a wild beauty,” said Moonglow. Daniel blushed. Malveria laughed. In the tiny kitchen it was easy for her to press up against Daniel. She put her dusky face only a few inches from his.
“But surely you must meet many wild beauties?”
Malveria was so beautiful that Daniel hardly knew where to look. He blushed a deeper colour and tried unsuccessfully to withdraw from the slight pressure on his chest created by the Fire Queen’s breasts. Malveria laughed again. Already she was enjoying herself.
“But it is true what the Enchantress said to you, young humans. People who involve themselves with the werewolf clan will very probably be killed.”
“Okay, let’s not do it,” said Daniel.
“Too late,” said Malveria. “You went to visit Thrix.”
“I knew it was a mistake.”
“It was not a mistake,” insisted Moonglow. “Kalix needs our help. Why is it every other werewolf hates her?”
“Of that I am not certain,” answered Malveria. “My race, which is called Hiyasta, does not get along with werewolves as a rule. In particular, we are enemies of the MacRinnalchs. Really, my friendship with Thrix is quite extraordinary. And as to their motivations, who can say?”
“What about people who get involved with Fire Spirits? Do they get killed too?” asked Daniel. “I couldn’t help noticing one of your titles was Persecutor of Mankind.”
Malveria smiled.
“We do not do so much persecuting of mankind these days. Though it is true we do not regard them kindly, in general. It dates back to the time when humans discovered how to make fire, which my ancestors resented, as fire is our preserve. But these days, our paths rarely cross, unless there is an erupting volcano, which we have to take care of.”
The pop-tart popped up from the toaster. The Fire Queen, who at her last grand banquet had turned away every exquisite dish with a bored sigh, picked it up from her plate with interest. She nibbled at it.
“I like the pop-tart,” she said. “Make me another one.”
39
Beside the stream Gawain rolled off of Kalix and lay panting for breath. He took his human form and lay there, staring up at the clouds. Kalix nuzzled him with her wolf’s nose and raised up her head to look at him. Gawain was so handsome, as wolf or human. He frowned like a poet, she’d tell him, cheerfully mocking his slightly brooding nature. And Gawain, who was on occasion given to brooding, would laugh. He had never met anyone like the young Kalix who could make him laugh so easily before.
Suddenly, and shockingly, a knife flew through the air to thud into Gawain’s back. He pitched forward and Kalix could smell the blood pumping out of his heart. Worse, she could sense that the blade that had pierced Gawain was made of silver, and would kill him.
“I told you to stay away from that man-cub,” growled the Thane, who’d appeared from the darkness of the river bank.
Gawain had one human grandparent. He wasn’t a man cub. He was as strong and fierce as any pure bred werewolf. But the silver dagger thrown by the Thane was deadly to him. Kalix could feel Gawain dying in her arms.
Kalix shrieked, then woke up in the alley. The young werewolf was now so weak and disorientated that it took her a long time to realise that she had been dreaming. The horror of the dream wouldn’t leave her. She felt herself slipping back into unconsciousness and as she did so she could again see the Thane killing her lover.
“He’s not dead,” she tried to say. “He’s not dead. He went away.”
But Kalix couldn’t remember if Gawain was dead or if he had just gone away. It was too confusing. The laudanum-fuelled dream still gripped her senses. She tried to move, but didn’t have the energy. As her mind slowly cleared she realised that dying was not as easy as she thought it would be. The wolf inside her was very strong. Though her injuries would certainly kill her, it was proving to be a long and difficult process. She coughed up more blood, shuddering with pain from her broken ribs, then fell back into another dark dream.
40
There were hundreds of werewolves in the MacRinnalch Clan and hundreds more who gave th
eir allegiance to the Thane. The MacRinnalchs were not the only werewolf clan currently surviving in Britain, but they were the strongest, and the oldest. Many of the clan members lived either in the castle or on the surrounding estates, but some had settled in other parts of world. There were pockets of MacRinnalchs all over the globe, in Australia, the USA, Canada, New Zealand; anywhere the Scots had travelled. Now they were coming home. The Thane’s funeral would draw MacRinnalchs from all over the world. In two days time the estates would be packed full of werewolves, come to mourn the passing of the old Thane and celebrate the accession of the new.
It was the responsibility of the Great Council to choose the new Thane. There were seventeen members of the council: Dulupina, Verasa, Sarapen, Markus, Thrix, Kalix, Tupan, Dominil, Kurian, Marwanis, Kertal, Lucia, Butix, Delix, Baron MacAllister, Baron MacGregor and Baron MacPhee.
Dulupina was the mother of the recently deceased Thane. Tupan was the eldest of the Thane’s three younger brothers. Dominil was Tupan’s daughter. Kurian was the youngest brother of the Thane. Marwanis was Kurian’s daughter and Kertal his son. Lucia was Verasa’s younger sister. Butix and Delix - Beauty and Delicious - were daughters of the Thane’s middle brother Marwis, who had died with his wife some years ago. The three noblemen - Baron MacAllister, Baron MacGregor and Baron MacPhee - were not members of the ruling family, but their clans had been represented on the Great Council for longer than anyone could remember.
Of these seventeen, fourteen now sat in the great hall, the massive vaulted chamber at the heart of Castle MacRinnalch. The three missing members were Kalix, Beauty, and Delicious. In the next chamber the Thane lay in state. His burial would take place the day after tomorrow. The service would be officiated over by the new Thane. The Thane had to be elected by a majority of the Great Council and would require nine votes. Though it had most often been the case that succession passed from the Thane to his eldest son, it was not a formality. There had been several occasions in the past thousand years when the council had refused to endorse the heir apparent and chosen another. On each of these occasions, bloody war between the factions had been the result.