61
“I would like you to go to London and look after Butix and Delix.”
Dominil stared at the Mistress of the Werewolves.
“Look after Beauty and Delicious? Why would I do that?”
“They may need protecting. While the vote is so delicately balanced, I fear for them,” explained Verasa.
It was mid-day. Castle MacRinnalch simmered with anger, anger that couldn’t be properly expressed because the Thane’s funeral could not be disrupted. Verasa had been busy making calculations. Sarapen would very likely try to kill Kalix in order to secure Dulupina’s vote. Probably he would try to either bribe or intimidate Baron MacAllister to realign himself with him. Verasa thought she could deal with that. But the twins were a problem. Though she thought it extremely unlikely that Sarapen could offer them anything which would make them come to the next meeting of the Great Council and vote for him, it couldn’t be discounted altogether. Worse, though, was the prospect that he might try to kill them.
The next position on the Great Council was Verasa’s to choose, and she had already promised her sister Lucia that her son Decembrius could have the post. This had been an effective bribe, securing Lucia’s vote for Markus. Unfortunately the replacement for the next place to fall vacant would be chosen by Dulupina and she would almost certainly award the position to the third child of Kurian, brother of the late Thane. Last night Sarapen had received six votes. If he succeeded in killing Kalix he would receive the vote of Dulupina, which would make seven. Once Kalix was dead her position on the council would be taken by Decembrius. He would also vote for Sarapen, making eight. If Sarapen managed to remove one of the twins, and Kurian’s third child was elevated to the council, he would have his nine votes.
“Why,” enquired Dominil, “did you promise to appoint Decembrius? He supports Sarapen.”
“It was the only way I could ensure his mother Lucia voted for Markus.”
“Reasonable, I suppose. But I still don’t see why I should leave the castle to look after Beauty and Delicious. I’ve heard tales of their degeneracy. I do not think I would enjoy the task.”
“Do you enjoy your life at the castle?”
“No,” admitted Dominil. “But it is a home.”
“I thought you might appreciate the chance to put several hundred miles between yourself and Sarapen.”
“I don’t fear Sarapen.”
“I know. Part of the problem with this family is that no one feels much fear, even when they should.”
Dominil was surprised when the Mistress of the Werewolves asked her if she knew anything about rock music.
“Very little.”
“You know that Butix and Delix are musicians? They play guitar, and sing. They have appeared onstage. But of course, they’re too disorganised to ever make anything of it. I know nothing of the business but I’m sure there must be much to organise. Other musicians to meet, places to play, publicity, matters of that sort.”
“Are you suggesting I should manage their band?” said Dominil.
“Why not? You’ve been bored these past three years. You are the most intelligent of the family. I’ve no doubt that you could organise anything you put your mind to. At least you wouldn’t be bored.”
Dominil finished her wine and poured herself more, brushing back her hair which reached almost to her waist; long, straight and as white as snow.
“Would this by any chance be a way of persuading the twins to vote for Markus?”
“Yes,” admitted Verasa. “But whether they vote or not, they will need protecting.”
62
“Why doesn’t it answer?” asked the Fire Queen, petulantly. She eyed Moonglow’s computer with suspicion. Although Moonglow had explained that their reply would depend on when Thrix answered her email, Malveria seemed to suspect the computer of treachery.
“I should have sent a messenger.”
“You said your messenger might be harmed if he interrupted the Thane’s funeral.”
Malveria shrugged. A messenger was of no great account.
“I’m sure she’ll answer soon,” said Moonglow.
It was four in the morning. Daniel and Moonglow’s energy was flagging though Kalix showed no signs of tiring. The young werewolf was currently in the kitchen, snuffling out more food.
“I have to go to bed now,” said Moonglow. “I have a class tomorrow.”
“Do you still go to school?” asked Malveria.
Moonglow explained that she attended university.
“A school for older people?”
“Yes.”
“Who could not learn enough when they were young?”
“Not exactly,” said Moonglow, but felt too tired to explain it fully. She wondered if Malveria intended to stay the night. The Fire Queen showed no inclination to leave. Occasionally a pained look would cross her face, as if she was still tormented by the sour memory of her latest fashion disaster. Moonglow wondered where she could sleep. Daniel and Moonglow used the only two bedrooms. There was another very small room but it was full of boxes which they hadn’t yet unpacked. Feeling that it would be rude to ask Malveria - who was a queen after all - to sleep on the couch, in the same room as Kalix, Moonglow offered her the use of her bed.
“I can sleep in Daniel’s room.”
The Fire Queen seemed amused by this.
“But this is taboo, no? As I understand human customs?”
“It’s okay,” said Moonglow. “We’re friends.”
Malveria was a shrewd interpreter of other people’s emotions. She could see that Daniel might think this more than a friendly gesture. She was tempted to accept the offer. Sending Moonglow into Daniel’s bed might very well produce some amusing results, if only frustration from Daniel. But her sense of decorum prevented her. In her realm, it was not the done thing to turn one’s host out of her own bed.
“I will sleep on your couch, which I’m sure will be acceptable.”
Moonglow was surprised. Having seen Malveria in tears over the slightest setback she did not have the impression that the Queen was used to coping with discomfort. In this Moonglow was mistaken. Now that she was ruler of her realm Malveria was accustomed to a luxurious lifestyle but it had not always been so. At the time of the war between the six competing factions the Fire Queen had frequently slept in caves, and been roused in the middle of the night to engage in savage combat with her enemies. She’d marched over rocks that boiled with lava and mountains that flowed with glaciers, fighting battles against seemingly impossible odds. During that time she’d had no expectation that she would ever sleep in a comfortable bed again. Malveria was a hardened warrior, though these days, it would have been difficult for anyone to tell.
“If the computer brings a message will we know?”
“Yes, I’ll set it on alert.”
Moonglow busied herself bringing blankets for Malveria and checking that Kalix had everything she needed to be comfortable.
“I don’t need a hot water bottle tonight,” said Kalix. “I’m warm when I’m a werewolf.”
“You’d better take it anyway,” responded Moonglow. “There’s a draft coming in the back window and you’re still weak after your ordeal.”
Kalix scowled. She didn’t like being fussed over. Nor did she like sharing a room with Malveria. But she suddenly found herself tired. She wrapped herself in her quilt, curled up in a ball in front of the fire, and went to sleep, leaving the Fire Queen lying on the couch covered in a very attractive silk covering which Moonglow had provided. Malveria herself was not particularly tired but, feeling oddly comfortable in this house, she dropped off to sleep dreaming of a great fashion triumph at next month’s meeting of the Elemental Rulers Council.
63
If Castle MacRinnalch was riven with internal dissension, it could not have been discerned from the Thane’s funeral. Sarapen and Markus stood side by side at the ceremony and showed no signs of animosity. They bowed their heads respectfully as the Mistress of the
Werewolves read out the traditional farewell to the Thane, the same farewell that had been used to bury every Thane since Durghaid MacRinnalch in the year 1128. Torches lit up the great hall of the castle and a piper played a lament as the pallbearers moved to pick up the great oaken casket. It was difficult to play the bagpipes in werewolf form, but at the Thane’s funeral, it was done. The eerie, emotive sound echoed round the great hall as the coffin was borne outside to the place where the assembled werewolves would bid the Thane a last farewell on his journey to the forests of the werewolf dead.
The Mistress of the Werewolves led the family from the castle. As the clan saw Verasa at the head of the funeral procession there was a slight tremor among the crowd. There had been rumours that the Great Council had failed to agree on a new Thane and here was proof. Had there been a new Thane, he would have led the mourners. Many significant glances were exchanged between neighbours. There would be trouble. Everyone knew that.
It was the night of the full moon. As the Thane’s coffin was brought out the werewolves set up a howling the like of which had rarely been heard in the world before. The whole clan mourned for the loss of their chieftain. Of all the werewolves there, only Thrix did not howl. Shocking though it was to admit, she realised she was pleased the Thane was gone. Life at the castle had not been easy for his daughters. ‘If I’d had more spirit when I was Kalix’s age, I might have attacked him myself,’ thought Thrix, and then felt some shame at her reflections.
Sarapen howled loud and long but as his howls subsided he glanced over to where his brother Markus stood. ‘I’ll kill you brother,’ thought Sarapen. ‘And anyone else who stands in my way.’
Dominil howled but briefly. She was already bored. She wondered if she should agree to Verasa’s request that she go to London. She could see no reason to do so. There again, she could see no reason not to do so. This was a problem that had plagued her for most of her life. Not exactly indecision, more a feeling that neither alternative was worth while.
As for Verasa, the funeral brought tears to her eyes. True, it was a long time since she had been remotely intimate with her husband but they had been together for a very long time. Almost three hundred years. They shared a history that few people could comprehend. And now he was gone. Verasa put back her head and howled, with feeling.
Among the crowd, Gawain stood with his head unbowed. He was studying the mourners. Kalix was not among them. It was a bitter disappointment. Behind Gawain were six members of the Mistress’s household. They’d been watching Gawain ever since he entered the estate. Verasa had instructed them to make no disturbance during the funeral but as soon as it was over he was to be arrested.
64
Moonglow was shaken awake at some unearthly hour by Malveria.
“Your computer made a noise. Is this the answer from the Enchantress?”
Moonglow was tempted to tell Malveria to go away and let her sleep but her natural politeness prevented her. She dragged herself out of bed. The screen was flashing. Thrix had replied to Malveria’s email.
“I have never had an email before,” said the Queen. “This is very exciting. Is there a spy?”
“Do you want me to read it?” asked Moonglow, who was not sure if the Fire Queen could read English. Malveria could read English well - she had learned in order to be able to understand fashion catalogues and style magazines - but she asked Moonglow to read it to her, and then looked over her shoulder.
Dear Malveria, this is very distressing. You might be right. Perhaps there is spy.
“Aha!” yelled Malveria, as if this were in itself proof.
Back tomorrow. Call in and we’ll see what can be done.
“Good,” said Malveria. “I will call in.”
She frowned.
“Thrix does not spend many words in this email. Should it not be longer?”
“She probably had a lot of emails to write,” suggested Moonglow.
Malveria stared at the screen.
“I am unused to such brevity. Look, she has signed her name only as Thrix.”
“Does she have more names?”
“Of course. Thrix Ugraich Eustacia MacPhail MacRinnalch, and several more which are private.”
“That’s a lot of names,” commented Moonglow.
“No,” said Malveria. “Only a few. I have many more names than that. How many do you have?”
“Just two.”
“Surely no one can mange with only two names? It must be very difficult. You see, my dearest Thrix agrees that there is a spy. I will visit the Enchantress tomorrow and we will make a plan for catching this spy and then Princess Kabachetka will see who is the person with the better fashion sense and superior shoes!”
“Right,” said Moonglow, who could feel her eyes closing with fatigue. She had only slept a few hours and she really needed more.
A peculiar sound floated into the bedroom. Something Moonglow could not exactly identify. Something painful.
“What’s that?”
“Kalix,” replied the Fire Queen. “Since dawn broke she has been retching in your bathroom. I would suggest you send a servant to ask what is the matter but if you do not have a servant to hand, perhaps you will have to go yourself. Meanwhile I return to my kingdom to plot my revenge on the dismal Princess. Thank you for your hospitality.”
The Fire Queen waved her hand and disappeared abruptly. Moonglow draped a dressing gown over her nightdress and shuffled along to the bathroom. There she found Kalix - the human Kalix - being sick into the toilet. Moonglow’s first thought was that Kalix must have picked up some form of food poisoning from the meat she’d eaten.
“What’s the matter?”
The moment Kalix saw Moonglow she picked herself up and barged her way past. Moonglow sighed. This was a lot to cope with so early in the morning. She followed Kalix downstairs and found her shivering on the floor. She seemed to be suffering badly.
“What’s the matter?” asked Moonglow again. “Do you need a doctor?”
“No.”
“Would you like some tea?”
“Stop forcing food on me,” replied Kalix, then turned her head to vomit on the carpet.
When Daniel appeared shortly afterwards, Kalix was no better. Her distress was painful to watch. Neither Daniel nor Moonglow were sure if it was psychological or physical. Moonglow had tried to clean Kalix’s face but had been repulsed by a ferocious growling. Kalix was now human, and it was extremely unsettling to hear such growling coming from the girl’s lips. Kalix was sweating and shaking, apparently in the grip of some powerful attack. It was a very upsetting scene and Moonglow really didn’t know what to do about it. She guessed, from the few muttered comments she’d heard from Kalix, that the young werewolf was distressed about the way she had gorged herself last night. Now she was throwing up but whether deliberately or not, Moonglow couldn’t tell.
“Is this like your bulimic cousin?” she whispered to Daniel. Daniel shook his head. He’d never seen anything as violent as this.
Kalix reached into her bag and brought out her bottle of laudanum. There were only a few drops left. She drank it quickly. Kalix had woken up with the realisation that last night she’d eaten far more than she had for years. The humans had fed her meat and pizzas and pop-tarts and who knew what else and the realisation of what she’d ingested was now driving Kalix into the grip of a terrible panic attack. She didn’t have enough laudanum to control it and the young werewolf felt like her mind was about to break into tiny pieces. Suddenly feeling that the walls were closing in on her Kalix knew she had to get out of the house. She grabbed her bag and her coat and made for the door.
“Please don’t go - ” said Moonglow, and tried to get in her way. Kalix hit her hard and the force of the blow sent Moonglow crashing against the wall.
“Hey!” protested Daniel, but Kalix was gone. He rushed to pick Moonglow up. She was rubbing her shoulder and grimacing.
“That really hurt. She’s so strong.”
They lo
oked around. Their living room was an incredible mess and there was liquid on the floor and all over Kalix’s quilt.
“Werewolf vomit,” said Daniel, with distaste.
Moonglow didn’t know what she was most upset about. Kalix’s illness, Kalix’s violence towards her or the fact that Kalix was gone.
“She didn’t have to hit me like that. She shouldn’t have left, she’s not well.”
“Face it Moonglow, that werewolf is a complete disaster.”
Moonglow wiped away a tear. It was all very distressing.
“But she was nicer last night. We were getting on well.”
Daniel admitted that they had been.
“Do you think she’ll come back?”
Daniel shrugged. He didn’t think so. He wasn’t inclined to go and look for her again. If she didn’t want to be helped by them they couldn’t force her. Besides, it was becoming dangerous. He’d seen the way Kalix tossed Moonglow aside and he knew that she wasn’t in control of her actions. Kalix was so strong and savage it wasn’t safe to be around her.
“Maybe you’re right,” said Moonglow. She felt very depressed by the whole affair and even the prospect of her Sumerian Cuneiform class, usually one of her favourites, didn’t cheer her up.
“At least she has the pendant now. She’s safe from her family. And the werewolf hunters.”
65
It was just bad luck that brought Kalix up against the Avenaris Guild. Her new pendant meant that hunters could not sense her, and nor could their trained dogs. In effect, she gave off no werewolf scent, and no one could tell she was not human. The Guild did not use sorcery, as a rule, but they did have members who through a form of mystic training could recognise a werewolf, even in human form. Even they could not now detect Kalix. Unfortunately, Kalix was not safe from being recognised by one of the hunters who had previously been tailing her.
The young werewolf made it to the end of Moonglow’s street without any notion of what she was doing. Gripped by the terrible anxiety attack she fled from the confines of the house but when she went outside her condition didn’t improve. The anxiety was coming in waves that made it impossible to think. Kalix hurried on, as if by fleeing she could somehow escape from herself. People stared as she passed because her face was messy from vomiting and her eyes were red with tears.
Lonely Werewolf Girl Page 17
