Lonely Werewolf Girl

by Martin Millar

  “How is he?” asked Verasa, on the phone to Gregor MacRinnalch, who was charged with looking after him.

  “A little better,” said Gregor.

  “Don’t lie to me,” said Verasa, brusquely.

  Gregor frowned. The Mistress of the Werewolves was very hard to fool, even when she was hundreds of miles away. He admitted that Markus was no better. He was still in shock and not capable of much apart from staring out into the garden.

  Verasa was frustrated. She understood that Markus had suffered a severe trauma but even so, this was not the behaviour required from a claimant to the Thaneship. Were the werewolves around the castle to learn that Markus MacRinnalch was at present hiding in a safe house, watching squirrels, they would not be impressed. The Great Council wouldn’t elect a Thane whom the entire clan despised as weak.

  Gregor was a loyal MacRinnalch, but his first loyalty was to Markus rather than Verasa, so there were some things he hadn’t told her. He hadn’t told her that Markus had instructed him to look for Kalix. And he hadn’t told the Mistress of the Werewolves that Markus had recently slept with a human girl. This, he reasoned, was really none of Verasa’s business, though Verasa herself wouldn’t have seen it that way.

  The day after Moonglow had been with Markus, he’d seemed better. Livelier, at least for a while, before he sank again into the blank numbness that enfolded him these days. Perhaps, thought Gregor, sex was what Markus needed to bring him out of his gloom. Or maybe it wasn’t even sex. Markus was more sensitive than most MacRinnalchs.

  Perhaps the human girl was good at listening, or talking, or something like that.

  “Did anyone call?” asked Markus, when Gregor went to tell him there was food ready.

  “Your mother.”

  Markus didn’t respond. It wasn’t the call he was waiting for. Dusk was coming. Werewolves were creatures of the night but somehow Markus no longer felt so comfortable when the darkness came. He wished that the daylight hours were not so short in winter. He wished he could see Moonglow again.

  142

  Young Baron MacAllister was camped on the eastern edge of Colburn Wood with fifty of his followers. Eskandor MacRinnalch, captain of the castle guard, advanced on the Wood with a force of eighty werewolves to eject them. The Mistress of the Werewolves had instructed Eskandor to advance cautiously but resolutely, and to enter into no negotiations with the Baron. He was to be removed from the Wood. If the Baron wanted to discuss the boundaries of his lands he could come in peace to Castle MacRinnalch and confer with the Great Council. He would not be permitted to force the issue by show of strength.

  It was noteworthy that the new Baron had only fifty werewolves with him, and that this force included MacAndrises as well as MacAllisters. Baron MacAllister had many more werewolves under his command but many of these could only assume their wolf shape on the nights around the full moon. Presumably the Baron had brought with him only those who could make the change on any night. In this, the MacRinnalchs had an advantage. There were many more MacRinnalchs who could transform every night. All of Eskandor’s force could.

  The MacRinnalchs left the castle in the early afternoon. Buvalis MacGregor, head of Verasa’s household, watched them go.

  “A fine sight,” she said to Verasa. Buvalis was too young to have seen a battalion of werewolves march to war. Verasa nodded. She’d seen far larger forces leave the castle on the way to battle. She had also seen forces arrive back, badly depleted from the fighting. Not for a long time though. These days the clans no longer went to war. It was many years since a clan dispute had led to serious fighting. Verasa never thought it would happen again. Yet here she was, sending out the army. It was Sarapen’s fault. He was dragging the clan back to the old days of violence, as she knew he would.

  Verasa trusted Buvalis MacGregor. She’d been head of Verasa’s household for seven years. Buvalis, however, was troubled. She had recently formed an attachment with Kertal MacRinnalch, son of Kurian, brother of the late Thane. With her intimate knowledge of Verasa’s movements, Buvalis had so far managed to keep this relationship secret. Buvalis was loyal to the Mistress of the Werewolves, but Kertal opposed her. Kertal supported Sarapen, not Markus. It was troubling for young Buvalis, and she fretted as she watched Verasa’s werewolves march off to fight against the MacAllisters, whose cause her lover favoured.

  Eskandor’s force travelled through the MacRinnalch lands and marched into Colburn Wood as night was falling. As one, they took on their werewolf shapes. The woods were silent as they passed. All wildlife had fled or taken sanctuary. Only a few birds and squirrels, safe in the tree tops, watched their progress. The stream that flowed through the wood, the burn itself, was no more than fifteen feet wide but the banks were steep in places. The werewolves followed the main path and reached the bridge that led to the eastern side of the wood. Eskandor halted before crossing the bridge and waited for the return of his scouts. They brought news that the MacAllisters had not withdrawn. Eskandor spoke to his werewolves.

  “We will now eject the MacAllisters. Prepare to advance.”

  143

  Thrix stretched from her bed to pick up her mobile phone, which was bleeping. Someone had sent her a message.

  Dearest Thrix I have learned how to send a text message is it not good??? Will be with you soon. Malveria.

  Thrix hurried to send a reply, warning the Fire Queen that now was not a good time to visit. She got no further than the second word before Malveria appeared in her bedroom.

  “Damn it Malveria, can’t you warn me when you’re coming?”

  “I sent a message. Did you not admire the way I have triumphantly mastered this complicated technology? I learned from Agrivex, who, I believed, learned from Moonglow. It is very dark in here.”

  Malveria waved her hand and the room lit up.

  “Hello Gawain,” said Malveria, smiling broadly. “How nice to see you again.”

  Gawain, next to Thrix in bed, looked pained.

  “Don’t you believe in privacy?” demanded Thrix.

  Malveria looked puzzled.

  “This is not a word I am familiar with. Please explain?”

  “I should be going,” muttered Gawain.

  “I urge you not to not leave on my account,” said Malveria graciously. “The Enchantress almost certainly has sufficient energy for more lovemaking. She has had so little opportunity recently.”

  “Will you get out of my bedroom!” demanded Thrix, frustrated at Malveria’s appalling lack of tact, and embarrassed to be caught in bed with Gawain.

  “I really should go,” said Gawain, pointedly, looking at Malveria.

  “And?” said Malveria.

  “He wants you to leave the room while he dresses,” said Thrix, crossly.

  “Ah… I forgot that werewolves these days have adopted the nakedness taboos of humans. Very well, I shall retire to the kitchen and make coffee on your machine, if it will co-operate. Since Agrivex has been plaguing the human lands, I have learned more about the machines of humans. I really feel I may be able to utilise the coffee device.”

  Malveria strode out the bedroom.

  “Does she always interrupt like this?” wondered Gawain.

  “Probably,” replied Thrix. “I haven’t actually had a lover since I’ve known her…”

  She broke off. That hadn’t been quite what she’d meant to say. Thrix felt annoyed and embarrassed as Gawain rose and dressed swiftly. He slipped out of the bedroom with only the briefest of good-byes and disappeared from Thrix’s apartment without saying anything to Malveria. When the Fire Queen arrived back in the bedroom, triumphantly carrying a tray of coffee, she found the Enchantress, now wrapped in a white silk robe, glaring at her furiously.

  “Coffee?”

  “Malveria!”

  “Yes?”

  “How dare you burst in here like that!”

  Malveria looked hurt.

  “But I sent you a message. Did you not receive it?”

  “I got it abou
t three seconds before you appeared.”

  Malveria waved this away.

  “Well, time in this dimension does run rather differently, I understand.”

  Thrix angrily took her coffee.

  “How would you like it if I burst in on you when you were in bed with someone?”

  Malveria shrugged.

  “I would not mind at all. Is it very taboo among the MacRinnalchs?”

  “Yes. And worse, it’s extremely rude. And even more worse, what am I doing sleeping with Gawain again?”

  “Ah,” Malveria nodded. “This is still an embarrassing secret?”

  “Yes. Don’t mention it to anyone.”

  Malveria promised not to, though that didn’t prevent her from closely questioning Thrix on every aspect of the encounter.

  “How did it come about? Did he call you?”

  “No.”

  “Did you meet by accident in some romantic spot for instance the Beautiful Frosted Fairy Glade or the jewellery counter at Tiffany?”

  “No.”

  “Then how?”

  “He rang the bell,” said Thrix. “And I let him in, which was a mistake.”

  Thrix shook her head and sat down heavily on the side of the bed.

  “I don’t know what I’m doing. Why am I sleeping with him?”

  “Does it matter why?” enquired Malveria. “He is rather attractive. A little sallow perhaps, but it gives him a poetic look. Does he write poetry?”

  “No. Well, maybe a little. But I haven’t read any of it.”

  “Probably that is just as well,” said Malveria. “It may be all about Kalix. Unless he has now transferred his affections entirely to you.”

  “I doubt it. He’s still mad about Kalix.”

  “Ah,” The Fire Queen nodded sagely. “In that case I understand your attraction. There is surely nothing more desirable than a man - or werewolf - or elemental - who is more attracted to another than to you. Why this is remains a mystery but I have experienced it, most certainly. The Elvish bard Gwonthin had at one time an attachment to my lady-in-waiting Rendolin. I tried everything in my power to seduce him but he was only interested in Rendolin. It quite drove me into a frenzy of desire, I assure you.”

  “And how did that romance end?”

  “Badly,” admitted the Fire Queen. “But if an Elvish bard wishes to avoid being thrown into the volcano, he should not persist in visiting my palace and refusing to respond to my advances. It was simply asking for trouble.”

  Thrix sipped her coffee. She hadn’t had much sleep and she was tired.

  “You still haven’t told me what you’re doing here.”

  “I am here by arrangement. Have you forgotten?”

  Thrix looked blank.

  “What arrangement?”

  “We are to visit your office, pick up finished designs and take them to Moonglow’s house where they will be hidden by Kalix’s pendant.”

  The Fire Queen’s voice took on a more serious tone.

  “You did not remember this?”

  Malveria wasn’t pleased. It was good for the Enchantress to be having a little romance, but not at the expense of Malveria’s clothes.

  “There is not much time till the Sorceress Livia’s celebration.”

  “I know. Sorry, I’m getting behind with things.”

  Malveria couldn’t conceal her displeasure. She didn’t want to criticise her friend, but really, one had to have one’s priorities. While Thrix dressed, Malveria asked her more questions about Gawain, which Thrix tried to deflect. Trying to change the subject she asked the Fire Queen what had become of Vex after her recent misdemeanours.

  “Did you punish her?”

  “Alas no,” replied Malveria. “She tricked me. Before I could inflict the substantial chastisement she deserved for refusing to attend her lessons, she approached me with a copy of Italian Vogue and I became so interested in the magazine I forgot about her wide-ranging crimes.”

  Malveria shook her head sadly.

  “You simply would not believe the outfit she wore this morning. As well as the great black boots she had the gold corset I wore last year to the Igan Frost Queen’s Ball - as delicate and expensive a garment as any in my last year’s wardrobe - and a pair of - a pair of - ” the Fire Queen groped for the word. “I really do not know what they were. Like some sort of undergarment, but to the ankles.”

  “Long Johns?” suggested Thrix.

  Malveria shuddered at the very sound.

  “That is right. And the hideous slime green nail varnish. I was obliged to send her away before I became nauseous. I despair of her.”

  The Enchantress laughed.

  “She’s young. Wait till she’s stealing this year’s outfits, then you’ll really regret it.”

  144

  The atmosphere in the house was bad. Kalix didn’t know why. Daniel was angry at Moonglow for sleeping with Markus and Moonglow was angry with Daniel for interfering in her business. Neither of them explained to Kalix what their argument was about, and she remained unaware of Moonglow’s encounter with Markus. Moonglow found it impossible to tell Kalix, and Daniel just couldn’t bear to mention it.

  Unfortunately, whenever there was tension in the air, Kalix always assumed that she was the cause. She retreated to her room to mope, and write in her journal how miserable everything was. She was interrupted by a loud crashing noise in the back yard, and a yell of pain. Thinking that Sarapen might be mounting an attack, she rushed to the kitchen to peer out the window. Down below, Vex was tangled up in the rubbish bins.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Practising my teleporting.”

  Vex rubbed her elbow ruefully, and brushed off some debris.

  “Go away you stupid Hiyasta,” shouted Kalix.

  “Okay I’ll be right up,” replied Vex, and clambered over the fence in the direction of the front door. Kalix wouldn’t have let her in but Moonglow appeared back from the shops at that moment and Vex came up the stairs with her. Vex was looking miserable and clutching her arm. Unlike Malveria, Agrivex was not the sort of elemental who spouted flames in times of emotion, but her unhappiness over her injury did give her a slightly pink hue.

  “I bumped my elbow.”

  “I’m sorry,” replied Moonglow.

  “It’s really sore,” said Vex.

  Moonglow noticed that Vex was still holding her arm out.

  “Eh… do you want me to rub it better?”

  Vex nodded enthusiastically. Moonglow rubbed it better. By the time Kalix arrived Vex had recovered and she greeted the werewolf cheerfully.

  “So what’s happening?”

  “Go away you stupid Hiyasta no one wants you here,” said Kalix, forcefully.

  “Right. So what’ll we do? Watch TV? Listen to music? Maybe go shopping?”

  Kalix was perplexed. Vex was apparently impervious to insult. Hoping that she might just go away, Kalix turned on her heel and hurried back to her room. She slammed the door then turned to find Vex standing on her bed, looking pleased with herself.

  “Look, I just teleported from the kitchen to your bedroom, totally successfully. So, what’s on TV?”

  Kalix gave up the struggle. She couldn’t get rid of Vex and would just have to put up with her for a while.

  “There’s nothing on TV. TV is awful. I need more channels.”

  Kalix was annoyed because she hadn’t seen Sabrina the Teenage Witch for several days. It was only on once a week, with a repeat on Saturday, and this just wasn’t enough. The cable channels ran it twice every day. As for SpongeBob SquarePants, Kalix’s favourite cartoon, that was hardly ever on terrestrial television. There were so many programmes and their TV could receive so few of them. Vex was sure that Moonglow was behaving unreasonably.

  “The girl just doesn’t understand how you need more TV. I mean, it’s fine for her, gallivanting around at college and learning stuff but that’s not how other people want to behave. Other people want to watch television and she has
a moral duty to help them.”

  Vex shook her head.

  “Adults have no morals. Aunt Malvie promised me new boots and would she come through with them? She would not. It’s a scandal. So what’s the plan for persuading Moonglow to go with cable?”

  Kalix didn’t have a plan.

  “She just won’t do it. Last time Daniel mentioned it she got really annoyed.”

  “Well it’s your lucky day,” announced Vex. “I have an idea.”

  “You do?”

  Kalix, despite herself, felt impressed. She’d failed to think of anything at all. Vex put her head close to Kalix’s and began to whisper, careful not to let anyone overhear. From Kalix’s descriptions of Moonglow’s unreasonableness, Vex wouldn’t have been surprised to learn that Moonglow had planted a listening device in the room.

  “That’s maybe not a bad plan,” muttered Kalix.

  145

  Gawain hadn’t recovered from the shock of seeing Kalix kissing Daniel. Sleeping with Thrix hadn’t made him feel better. He didn’t know why he did it. Thrix was very beautiful but she was not a sympathetic companion, and Gawain felt she was no more pleased about the affair than he was. Gawain had romantic ideals of love, and his affair with Thrix didn’t seem to fit in with any notions of romance he was familiar with.

  He spent most of his time hanging around the fringes of Kennington, secretly guarding Kalix. To atone for abandoning her at the castle, Gawain had decided to protect her in London, even though she was now no longer his. As dusk came Gawain would prowl the streets and alleyways of South London, looking for anyone who might be trying to harm her. He’d already noticed Gregor MacRinnalch sniffing round the area. Gawain had not confronted him, but followed him at a distance. The three Douglas-MacPhees had also made an appearance. Gawain loathed them. So far they had not come near Kalix’s house. If they did, Gawain was determined to kill them.

  Hostile werewolves were not the only creatures spotted by Gawain. He was certain he’d seen some hunters, sometimes driving, sometimes on foot. There was one in particular, a stocky, powerful man who several times had walked down streets close to where Kalix lived, and paused, as if he almost sensed something, before moving on. Gawain had the uncomfortable feeling that this man knew a lot about werewolves, and was a danger to Kalix.