Lonely Werewolf Girl

by Martin Millar

  “Eh - ” said Daniel.

  “Hi Kalix,” said Vex, cheerfully. “Are you here to watch?”

  Kalix fled. She rushed downstairs, sank into the couch, and switched on the TV. At least her anxiety was gone.

  ‘I’ve reached a new low point of misery, humiliation and uselessness, ’ thought Kalix. ‘Through which even anxiety can’t penetrate.’

  159

  “What is this?” demanded Dominil, picking a disc off the floor.

  “A CD,” replied Beauty.

  “I know it’s a CD,” said Dominil, coldly. “It’s the CD of your last rehearsal which I burned for you. You’re meant to be listening to it to seek ways of improving your performance, not using it as a beer mat.”

  “Lighten up,” protested Delicious. “We know the songs.”

  “You don’t know them. You have an acquaintance with them. The last rehearsal was far from satisfactory and if you’re going onstage in four and a half weeks time you’ll have to do better.”

  Delicious shared a pained look with her sister. It hadn’t taken Dominil long to get back to being her mean, domineering self.

  “Can’t you give us a moment’s rest? We’re trying to relax here.”

  “You have relaxed for five hours today. That’s enough.”

  “You’re actually counting?” said Beauty, incredulously.

  “Yes. And it’s time you got to work.”

  Beauty yawned.

  “I’ve always thought work was overrated.”

  “We’re skinny and we have fabulous hair,” added Delicious. “I figure that’s enough.”

  “Camden is full of girls who’re skinny and have fabulous hair. And they’re all closer to success than you are. So clear this mess off the floor, listen to the CD then get to work.”

  The twins scowled at her angrily but gave up the argument. Satisfied that she’d made an impression on them, Dominil retreated upstairs to her room, where she had other matters to think about. She’d been wondering about the morality of using some of Verasa’s money for her own purposes. The Mistress of the Werewolves had given Dominil access to a large sum. As the twins wouldn’t allow Dominil to buy them success, there was a lot of money left unused. If Dominil were to use the money herself she knew she could disguise the expense in ways the Mistress of the Werewolves would not discover.

  She glanced at her notes on Tibullus. She wasn’t going to find a solution to her dilemma there. Tibullus was generally busy pursuing a hopeless love. Finally deciding that she was uncomfortable with the notion of misappropriating MacRinnalch funds, Dominil phoned the Mistress of the Werewolves at the castle. Verasa welcomed her call. She held Dominil in high regard these days.

  “I want to use some of the money you provided.”

  “Of course Dominil.”

  “I need a small sum for a new leather coat. Sarapen damaged my old one. And I need a larger sum for purposes of my own which I can’t tell you about.”

  Verasa paused, very slightly.

  “Dominil, you know if you say that to me I can’t help wondering what you need it for.”

  “I know. But I can’t tell you. Do you object to me using the money?”

  “Of course not. Why would I? You’ve made such splendid progress with the twins.”

  “Very well.”

  The Mistress of the Werewolves enquired as to the likelihood of Butix and Delix appearing at the castle to vote for Markus. Dominil told her it was possible.

  “If their gig goes well I think I’ll be able to persuade them.”

  “Excellent. Does their band have a name, Dominil? Some of the young werewolves in the castle were asking about it.”

  “Yum Yum Sugary Snacks,” answered Dominil.

  Verasa was surprised.

  “That seems like a very odd name. I suppose one could not expect the twins to think of anything very good. Perhaps you can find something better for them.”

  “I’ll give it some thought,” said Dominil.

  Not long after this, Dominil phoned the Young MacDoig.

  “I’ll take the item,” she said, and hung up the phone.

  Dominil headed out to the nearest branch of the Royal Bank of Scotland. There she made a large withdrawal. She was going to the MacDoigs, but not to buy laudanum. She was taking up their offer of purchasing the Begravar knife. Dominil knew that this had been removed from the vaults of Castle MacRinnalch. Her duty should have been to return it to the clan. Perhaps she would, later. But first she intended to plunge it into Sarapen’s heart, and kill him.

  160

  Moonglow fell hopelessly in love with Markus before they left the gallery. Unless, she thought, she was hopelessly in love with him before that. As they walked round the building Markus seemed to come alive again. He attributed this to Moonglow. She knew this because he’d told her so.

  “I was so far gone in misery I didn’t think I was ever going to come out of it.”

  He’d kissed her in the foyer, in front of a crowd of people. Moonglow felt like she was floating as they left the building.

  He’d also apologised to her for attacking Kalix.

  “The Thaneship. It was driving me insane, even before Talixia was killed. I was acting in ways I never should have done.”

  “Are you going to be Thane now?” Moonglow asked.

  Markus shook his head. He no longer cared about it.

  “I’ll withdraw. My brother can have it.”

  Moonglow had missed college, something she’d never done before without feeling guilty. Today, she felt no guilt at all. She’d willingly miss many more days at college to be with Markus. Now she lay in Markus’s bed, in Markus’s arms, enjoying the feeling of being hopelessly in love. She’d have to tell Jay she was leaving him. She didn’t mind that; something that would have seemed impossibly difficult only a few days ago now seemed easy. She’d fallen in love and that was all there was to it.

  161

  The Fire Queen returned from dinner at the Duchess Gargamond’s castle in a worried frame of mind. The Duchess, an old friend, was still hiding from the world after her disgrace in wearing the same aquamarine frock to two separate sacrifices. Poor Gargamond - until recently as powerful a fire elemental as ever crossed the dimensions, nurturing volcanoes and dealing out blazing destruction with tremendous enthusiasm - was now a shadow of her former self. She admitted tearfully to Malveria that she couldn’t even bear to face her devotees.

  “I’m so afraid that Apthalia may have told hateful stories about me.”

  Apthalia the Grim was a terrible gossip. Life had been easier when she just concentrated on killing travellers on lonely roads. Since she’d taken up with the fashion world, no one was safe. Reputations could crumble in a moment. It was a miracle, reflected Malveria, that her own status had not plunged even further, given the number of times the vile Princess Kabachetka had trumped her recently in matters of style.

  “Don’t worry, my dear,” said the Fire Queen, re-assuringly. “I am sure it will all be forgotten soon.”

  Duchess Gargamond was not comforted. She could see no end to her disgrace.

  “Apthalia the Grim is utterly evil,” complained the Duchess.

  “Well of course,” said Malveria. “But one would expect that from a woman who kills lonely travellers.”

  “I do not mean that sort of evil. I mean in the far worse sense of being a malicious gossip. I’d like to raise a volcano on her doorstep and throw her in.”

  But of course, Duchess Gargamond could do no such thing. Had Apthalia the Grim offended her in some other way - stolen her cattle perhaps, or poisoned her wells - the Duchess could have taken violent revenge. However, in matters of fashion, etiquette forbade it. Anyone offering violence to a fellow elemental for mocking her outfits would be outcast forever, the subject of eternal ridicule. Violence was not permitted, and the realm’s great ladies had to get by on wit and style.

  “I suppose I’ll just have to put up with it till some other poor unfortunate suffers
an even greater disgrace,” sighed the Duchess. “Then, mine may be forgotten about.”

  It was this thought which now preoccupied the Fire Queen. The Sorceress Livia’s celebration was only four weeks away. All the ladies of the court were preparing their wardrobes. Coats and dresses were being sewn, and shoes made to order. Some from the lands of men, some from the lands of the fairies and some from those elemental tailors who were up to date in matters of fashion. Yet Malveria’s outfits were not ready. As far as Malveria could see, the Enchantress was falling seriously behind with her work, and might not finish in time. If Malveria was obliged to turn up at Livia’s with a wardrobe which was in anyway deficient, it would be the end. Her shame would eclipse that of the Duchess Gargamond.

  It was too bad. Malveria decided to raise the matter with Thrix. The Enchantress was slightly touchy these days but Malveria couldn’t just do nothing. She must be dressed for Livia’s in a style so superb as to cow and overwhelm all opposition, particularly Princess Kabachetka.

  Agrivex appeared in the throne room.

  “Hi auntie. Do you want the bowing and curtseying?”

  Malveria frowned.

  “The bowing and curtseying is not something my subjects should ask about, foolish niece. It must be done spontaneously. Otherwise the whole effect is ruined.”

  “All right,” said Vex, and began the appropriate greeting. Malveria waved her hand.

  “Stop that, idiot girl. I never saw anyone so bad at bowing and curtseying. You make the whole process a mockery.”

  Malveria eyed Vex with distaste. The spiky blonde hair was particularly offensive. Vex grinned at the Fire Queen in what she imagined was a winning way.

  “I expect you’ve noticed how I’ve been attending my lessons, not breaking things, no outrages committed round the palace, that sort of thing.”

  “Nothing has occupied my attention more,” replied the Fire Queen, dryly. “And to what do we owe this unexpected good behaviour?”

  “I need four new pairs of boots, a new coat, some T-shirts, a leather jacket and probably some new earrings as well.”

  Vex held up her hand.

  “Now before you protest, I should point out that not only have I attended to all my palace duties, I’ve also slept with Daniel.”

  “Pardon?”

  “Daniel. You know, human, floppy hair, friends with Kalix - ”

  “Yes I know who you mean,” said Malveria, sharply. The Fire Queen hadn’t been expecting this, and wasn’t sure how to react.

  “So can we come to a sensible new boot agreement?” said Vex, happily.

  “You bothersome girl. Did I tell you to do this?”

  “Absolutely. Stop making Daniel feel like a worm, crushed and broken. Your very words. Or something like that. So I slept with him. His confidence has consequently gone through the roof. Or probably, I didn’t actually wait around the next morning but hey, he’s got to be feeling happier about life.”

  The Fire Queen was temporarily confused. In truth, she didn’t really know if this accorded to her plans or not. The ultimate aim was to make Moonglow jealous but now Malveria was not so sure that a liaison between Daniel and Vex would do that. Malveria felt a great wave of dissatisfaction. It was hard to credit that she, the mighty Fire Queen, could ever be uncertain about a plan for breaking a human’s heart. It was a sign of how distracted she’d become by the matter of the Sorceress Livia’s celebration, with its attendant clothes anxiety.

  “So, about the boots?”

  “I’m not certain that you deserve any boots, my unsatisfactory niece.”

  “Unsatisfactory? After giving Daniel the time of his life?”

  Malveria leaned forward and glared at Agrivex.

  “I doubt very much that you provided him with the time of his life.”

  “I did too!”

  Malveria continued to glare.

  “Well, okay, maybe not the time of his life,” admitted Vex. “Because, you know, I was wanting to get back to cable, and maybe Daniel was a little upset when I started reading the TV guide before he’d finished. But I maintain I carried out your instructions and definitely deserve new boots.”

  Malveria frowned. She wasn’t at all sure that Vex hadn’t made everything worse. Still, she had carried out her instructions, albeit rather late.

  “Very well. You may have the boots. But only after you describe to me everything that happened.”

  “Okay,” smiled Vex, pleased to be getting new boots. “Well first of all we were interrupted by Kalix - ”

  “Kalix? Did she want to watch?”

  “That’s what I thought,” said Vex. “But she ran out the room looking miserable so I guess she didn’t.”

  The Fire Queen was interested.

  “Tell me everything.”

  162

  The Fire Queen might have been even more worried had she been able to eavesdrop on the conversation between Princess Kabachetka and the designer Zatek. The Princess was making one of her frequent visits to Zatek’s fashion house, where the entire production line had been turned over to ensuring that Kabachetka was fabulously dressed at Livia’s celebration. Zatek was pleased with his designs but worried by developments at Thrix Fashions.

  “I’m finding it impossible to get an accurate view of their preparations.”

  “How can that be?” said the Princess. “The Hainusta spells I’ve provided you with are powerful enough to penetrate anything the Enchantress might use to hide her work.”

  “She’s placed a lot more defensive charms around the building. Even when I get through them, I’m not sure I’m seeing Thrix’s latest designs.”

  “They have to be there. The Enchantress must already have made many clothes for the contemptible Hiyasta Queen.”

  Zatek agreed, but repeated that he hadn’t been able to find them.

  “I’m sure the designs I saw there weren’t really Thrix’s latest. For instance, in the storage room where Malveria’s new outfits are usually kept, there was a violet dress.”

  Kabachetka looked up sharply, immediately suspicious.

  “Impossible. Violet was last season’s colour.”

  “Indeed.”

  “The Queen is trying to trick me,” exploded Princess Kabachetka. “To make me arrive at Livia’s in violet. As if I would make such an error!”

  Kabachetka became thoughtful.

  “So where,” she wondered, “are her newest clothes?”

  Zatek didn’t know.

  “There’s something blocking me from finding them.”

  Kabachetka paused while she examined herself in the mirror. Zatek had made an evening dress for her of pale yellow silk and it was a splendid item. The Princess clicked her fingers and several more mirrors magically appeared, giving her a view from every angle.

  “This matter needs thought,” she said, after approving the dress. “However, if my plans are successful we will not have a problem. I have met with Sarapen MacRinnalch. He is at war with the Enchantress. And, by extension, with Malveria. So I will provide him with sorcery which will enable him to crush the Enchantress. Then we shall see who is the best dressed at Livia’s birthday celebration.”

  163

  Thrix was feeling the strain. She sat in her office deep into the night, trying to come up with original ideas for Malveria’s clothes. The moon was full but Thrix remained as human, suppressing her werewolf shape in order to work more easily. It was hard making sketches and working a keyboard with werewolf paws. As far as Thrix knew, she was only the second MacRinnalch ever to be able to suppress the change. Old Minerva, her sorcery teacher, had taught her a long time ago.

  Thrix was reasonably satisfied with her designs for the first three days of the event but had made minimal progress on days four and five. As for Malveria’s servants, Thrix still wasn’t happy with her efforts, and cursed all handmaidens and page boys for being so difficult to dress.

  There were now only four weeks till Livia’s celebration. Malveria had to be ready by
the fourteenth of next month. It was a tight schedule and there were other matters that demanded Thrix’s attention. Milan and New York were crowding in on her time, and there was the day-to-day business of running her fashion house. Ann was working hard to protect Thrix from outside distractions but even so, there were some things that couldn’t be delegated.

  Thrix wished she could have delegated the task of protecting Kalix. That seemed to be hers whether she wanted it or not. She had warmed to Kalix a little after her rescue of Dominil but even so, Thrix couldn’t bring herself to love her young sister. Kalix was so sullen, so hostile, and so troubled. The Enchantress believed that people should work hard, put their lives in order, and make something of themselves. That was the way to deal with your problems. Sulking and depression never got you anywhere.

  Then there was Zatek. Thrix could feel the prying eyes of his sorcery attempting to scan her office, her storerooms, even her computer. The Enchantress and the Fire Queen had placed the strongest spells of defence they could around Thrix’s offices but the sorcery Princess Kabachetka had provided for Zatek was so difficult to deflect. At least the clothes were safe once stored near Kalix.

  ‘And who knows what Kalix would do if she found out I’ve been sleeping with Gawain,’ thought Thrix. She put her hand to her brow and swept back her golden hair with a frustrated gesture. Yet again she had found herself in bed with Gawain. Thrix couldn’t understand it. No matter how strongly she told herself not to do it, it just seemed to happen.

  ‘I don’t even like him that much,’ Thrix told herself, angrily. ‘And he’s not that attractive.’

  She knew this wasn’t really true. Gawain was attractive.

  “But that shouldn’t be enough reason to keep sleeping with him,” muttered Thrix. She dreaded her mother finding out. If Verasa ever discovered that her eldest daughter was now sleeping with the banished Gawain, her reaction did not bear thinking about.