Lonely Werewolf Girl

by Martin Millar

  “If Wallace can be persuaded to join our side his father will probably follow.”

  “And what about the Baron’s chief advisor Lachlan?” demanded Sarapen. “We could not persuade him when he was in London.”

  “Send Marwanis,” said Decembrius.

  “Why?”

  “Because Lachlan MacGregor is… also very attracted to her.”

  Sarapen frowned.

  “Is this true?”

  “Certainly. Wallace and Lachlan’s rivalry over Marwanis is a source of great interest among the MacGregors, and further afield as well.”

  Sarapen shook his head. He was glad he never bothered himself with clan gossip. Decembrius persisted with the idea.

  “Marwanis is a shrewd wolf. I’m sure she could persuade them.”

  Sarapen was hesitant. Like many of Decembrius’s suggestions it went against the grain. Sarapen MacRinnalch did not relish the notion of using the charms of his female cousin to influence the MacGregors.

  “It’s worth trying before we send threats,” added Decembrius. “We can always send threats the next day.”

  Sarapen allowed himself a rare smile.

  “Yes, Decembrius. I acknowledge I may be too keen on sending threats, before trying other means. Very well, I will contact Marwanis.”

  Decembrius asked Sarapen if he would rather that he made the request but the offer was declined. Sarapen felt that if he was to stoop to using Marwanis to further his ends, the least he could do was ask her himself, in an honourable manner.

  “Which of her suitors does she prefer? Wallace or Lachlan?”

  Decembrius couldn’t say. He didn’t think that she favoured either of them. He had an idea that Marwanis rather favoured Sarapen himself, but he wasn’t about to mention it.

  183

  Malveria found herself unable to concentrate on selecting her outfit to receive Beau DeMortalis.

  “This is intolerable,” she complained to her chief lady-in-waiting. “How can one choose an outfit when Agrivex’s gloom pollutes the atmosphere?”

  In their own realm, the auras of the Hiyasta were very strong, and the energetic despair of a teenager could cast a very long shadow.

  “Must she choose this moment to interfere with my dressing?” cried Malveria. “When I am due to lunch with Beau DeMortalis, of all people? Does she not appreciate that the slightest ill-selected stitch of clothing can be fatal when meeting the Duke of the Black Castle? Really, one still winces at the cruel things he said last week about Countess Vesuvian. And I do not believe the Countess was really so badly dressed, although it’s true that pink is not her ideal colour.”

  “He can be cruel,” agreed her lady-in-waiting, though from the tone of her voice, Malveria guessed that she found the Duke rather exciting. Ladies-in-waiting always did. It could be hard to calm them down after he visited. The Fire Queen gave an angry exclamation as her mirror darkened around the edges, falling victim to Agrivex’s miserable aura.

  “This cannot be tolerated,” she declared, throwing down her newest jacket and marching from her chambers in search of her almost-adopted niece. She found Agrivex slumped on a couch in the corridor that led to the kitchens. She was staring vacantly into space, sucking on the ear of her fluffy dragon. The aura around her was dark and miserable. The sight moved the Fire Queen to anger.

  “Dismal niece, are you aware that your foolish gloom is casting dark shadows all over my palace?”

  Vex didn’t respond.

  “Have you nothing to say? Why are you sucking that fluffy dragon?”

  “For comfort. My life is just awful.”

  “Awful? You’re life is far from awful.”

  “It is too. I’ve no clothes and Daniel hates me.”

  “You have many clothes. Daniel does not hate you. And if he did, what does that signify? You do not really care for this Daniel.”

  “Yes I do,” said Vex, and stuck out her lower lip defiantly.

  “I refuse to let you be depressed about a young man from the mortal realm!” said Malveria. “It is unbecoming.”

  Vex stared at her feet.

  “It’s all your fault,” she mumbled.

  The Fire Queen was taken by surprise.

  “My fault? In what way?”

  “You’re the one who insisted I meet him. It was you that practically forced me to sleep with him. And now he hates me.”

  Malveria was temporarily lost for words, partly because there was some truth in her niece’s accusation. She had directed Agrivex to form a relationship with Daniel. She had not foreseen these consequences.

  “Agrivex. I know perfectly well that this is not a serious love affair. It will be forgotten in a day or two. Please try not to be so miserable.”

  “You wouldn’t understand,” said Vex. “You’re too old to understand.”

  Malveria reeled. She’d never been called too old for anything before. No one else would have dared to say such a thing.

  “You miserable and ungrateful creature! How dare you say that to me! Your problem is that your life is far too comfortable! When I was your age I was fighting a war and facing danger every day.”

  Vex looked bored. Malveria narrowed her eyes.

  “If you dare to yawn because I mentioned the war I will pick you up by your toes and dip you in the great volcano.”

  Vex yawned, and put the dragon’s ear back into her mouth. Malveria became more agitated. Really, her niece was just impossible.

  “Must you behave in such an aggravating manner, idiot niece?”

  Vex looked up.

  “It’s so harsh the way you’re always calling me idiot niece. How about charming, pretty or intelligent niece?”

  “You are not charming, pretty or intelligent.”

  “Fine,” said Vex, folding her arms and crossing her legs. “Destroy my confidence. I’ll be sending you the therapy bills.”

  “The Hiyasta do not go to therapists, vile girl.”

  “Then it’s no wonder they’ve always got fire pouring out their ears. Who can be normal when their aunt just criticises them all the time? I can practically feel the fire pouring out my ears right this minute. I demand you send me to a therapist to repair the damage.”

  “You do not have fire pouring out your ears, foolish one. You do not need a therapist. You need to occupy your thoughts with something other than make-up and television and this Daniel who you do not really care for. And will you please stop sucking on that fluffy dragon? It’s starting to make me ill.”

  Vex removed the dragon’s ear from her mouth, but kept tight hold of the toy.

  “Cosmo Junior says the number one cause of girls needing therapy is harsh criticism from their parents.”

  “Must you believe everything you read in Cosmo Junior? And I am not your parent. No child who sprang from my loins could ever be such an imbecile.”

  “I’m not an imbecile!” declared Agrivex.

  “You are the biggest imbecile in all the realms of the Hiyasta,” countered Malveria.

  The Fire Queen was surprised at what happened next. Instead of answering back, Vex burst into tears and ran from the corridor. Malveria was bewildered. Why had Agrivex done that? The Queen reviewed their conversation. Has she said anything upsetting? No more than usual, surely. Malveria frowned. She could only put it down to her young niece’s general idiocy, and dismissed it from her mind. Malveria had more important things to worry about. Lunch with Beau DeMortalis, for instance. That must go well.

  The Fire Queen applied herself to dressing, and her lunch with the Duke was not unsatisfactory. He made her laugh, as always, and complimented her clothes, sincerely enough for the Queen not to have to worry about him saying anything hurtful behind her back. She always enjoyed the Duke’s company and had never regretted not executing him after the war.

  There was one awkward moment. Beau DeMortalis had heard that the Fire Queen had saved a young werewolf’s life. The Duke of the Black Castle raised one eyebrow very slightly. Malveria retained
masterful control over both her manner and her aura. No one could have discerned that she was at all discomfited, though she was. Were the Duke to suspect that Malveria had saved the life of a MacRinnalch werewolf out of kindness or affection, he would be sure to be very cutting about the incident.

  “I did indeed rescue such a creature,” said Malveria, smoothly. “A small affair altogether, but a necessary part of a plan to break a human heart. Though we don’t do so much persecuting of Mankind these days, I like to keep in practice.”

  The Duke nodded. Breaking a human’s heart was quite reasonable behaviour.

  “I look forward to hearing of the completion of the episode.”

  “And I look forward to relating it,” said the Queen, meanwhile making a stern mental note to make progress with the matter of tormenting Moonglow. It was a pleasant lunch. But when the Duke was gone, leaving the hearts of her ladies-in-waiting fluttering, the Fire Queen was annoyed to find that she hadn’t managed to entirely dismiss the matter of Agrivex from her mind.

  ‘Why is this troubling me?’ wondered Malveria. ‘I do not care if the ridiculous girl spends her worthless life in tears.’

  Somehow, she wasn’t satisfied. Malveria decided she would rather like to see the Enchantress. She left the palace, materialising immediately outside Thrix’s apartment, and knocked on the door. It was after midnight and Thrix was surprised to find the Fire Queen on her doorstep. Malveria smiled brightly, and stepped briskly into the flat. Thrix greeted her with caution, assuming that Malveria was checking up on her. However the Fire Queen showed no sign of harassing the Enchantress about her work. Instead, she settled herself on the couch, accepted a glass of wine, and expressed an interest in watching some fashion programmes. The Enchantress, knowing Malveria so well, soon realised that there was something on her mind.

  “What’s wrong, Malveria?”

  “Nothing,” replied the Fire Queen. “I’m just making a friendly visit. It is some time since we watched the Japanese fashion programme.”

  Malveria noticed that Thrix didn’t look convinced.

  “My goodness, dearest Thrix, why are you staring me like that? This is a most frightening inquisition. Surely you can allow a close friend to relax on your couch without this merciless interrogation?”

  Thrix raised her eyebrows a fraction.

  “Very well,” said Malveria. “Since you give me no peace, I will admit that there is a small matter about which I wished to talk to you.”

  Having finally got to the point, Malveria quickly described the day’s events. Hearing her tale, Thrix was surprised at the denouement.

  “Vex ran away in tears?”

  “Absolutely,” replied Malveria. “It was most strange. Normally I would expect my niece to argue back relentlessly. Of course, Agrivex will sometimes cry over foolish things and is not above using hysterics to have her own way in matters of new boots and so forth, but this seemed different.”

  “She’s suffering an unhappy love affair,” Thrix pointed out. “I suppose that’s a new experience for her.”

  Malveria was not satisfied.

  “True, perhaps. But I’m not convinced. I am an expert at interpreting the auras of unhappy lovers. I believe my niece’s ridiculous notion of despair concerning Daniel is a symptom of some deeper unhappiness. However I do not know what that might be.”

  The Fire Queen levitated the bottle of wine, refilling their glasses.

  “I find myself upset. Why, I can’t say. Agrivex is such an airhead - to use your most suitable term - that it can only do her good to be reminded of her foolishness. But for some reason I cannot fathom, I wish I hadn’t made her cry.”

  Malveria stared into her glass. Thrix was surprised to see the Fire Queen actually looking depressed. An unusual emotion for her, unless clothes were involved.

  “Well,” said Thrix. I think the problem might be you like Vex more than you admit. A question of family feelings, I suppose. Which makes me unfit to offer any advice, because all feelings in my family are destructive, harmful and probably fatal, and I’ve been trying to avoid them for years.”

  “Well of course,” agreed Malveria. “It is the wise thing to do.”

  They sat in silence for a few moments, watching as a pretty Japanese model strode forcefully down the catwalk wrapped in a tight red dress that neither of them really cared for.

  “Perhaps this is indeed the problem,” said Malveria, thoughtfully. “It is most remiss of me. I can hardly believe I’ve allowed myself to like my ridiculous niece to the extent that I am now upset over making her cry. Did I mention that she alleged I was too old to understand her problems? An unparalleled insult for which I would have been justified in executing her.”

  The Fire Queen looked at Thrix.

  “Do you think I treat her harshly?”

  Thrix found it hard to reply. She didn’t really know how young relatives were normally treated in the realm of the Hiyasta.

  “Perhaps a little.”

  “But I transformed her existence. One day I may even formally adopt her. All she was born to was the life of either a temple prostitute or a sacrificial victim, and now she lives in my luxurious palace.”

  “I suppose luxury isn’t everything,” replied Thrix. “I’ve never heard you address her as anything other than idiot niece, or dismal niece, or something similar.”

  “But she is an idiot. No one can dispute this.”

  Thrix laughed.

  “I think Vex has her good points. And so do you, or you wouldn’t have looked after her for so long.”

  “This may be possible.”

  They finished the bottle of wine and started on Thrix’s whisky.

  “Maybe the strangeness of Vex’s aura had something to do with being criticised by someone she holds in high regard?” suggested Thrix.

  Malveria was startled at the thought.

  “If Agrivex holds me in high regard she has certainly disguised it well up till now. Please Thrix, you are making me feel guilty, and that is a most unwelcome emotion for the Queen of the Hiyasta.”

  Malveria pondered Thrix’s words while watching the fashion programme.

  “What should I do about this?”

  “You could take her shopping. She’d like that.”

  “She would indeed. I constrain her spending, to make her realise that in life one does not always obtain everything that one desires. Were I to actually take her shopping, she would be happy.” Malveria looked troubled. “But if I do that, will there ever be an end to it? Take Agrivex shopping once and she will be forever plaguing me to do it again. My life will become unbearable.”

  Thrix laughed.

  “That’s possible. But it would make her happy. Really, should you be asking me for advice anyway? I come from the most dysfunctional werewolf family in history.”

  184

  Verasa was disturbed to hear that Marwanis had gone to Baron Mac-Gregor’s keep. Markus didn’t understand why she was worried.

  “Marwanis holds no sway over Baron MacGregor.”

  “But she holds great sway over his son Wallace.”

  “Wallace is a fool,” snorted Markus.

  “Indeed he is,” agreed the Mistress of the Werewolves. “But his father is fond of him and will listen to his opinion.”

  Markus wore his cloak, trimmed with fur. Every day he walked the battlements, scanning the horizon for the enemy. The MacRinnalchs in the castle thought much better of Markus these days. Verasa hoped they would continue to do so if it came to a fight. She didn’t doubt her favourite son’s bravery, but she was unsure of his qualities of leadership under pressure.

  “Even if Marwanis persuades Wallace to support the rebellion, Lachlan is still against it,” pointed out Rainal.

  “He is,” agreed Verasa. “Unfortunately Lachlan is also under Marwanis’s influence.”

  “It seems odd that a clan should go to war merely because its leaders are besotted by one female werewolf,” said Rainal.

  It wasn’t so
odd, really. Rainal knew that it wasn’t. The Scottish werewolves were a passionate breed. You didn’t have to look too far into their history to find bloody disputes which had been started by lover’s quarrels, or lover’s ambitions.

  “I’ve been working on Lachlan,” said Verasa. “Given time I’d have brought him round to supporting our point of view.”

  Verasa’s voice trailed off. She looked through the great windows of her chambers out onto the lands beyond.

  “But now?” said clan secretary Rainal.

  “Now I rather expect that Lachlan and Wallace will lead the MacGregors into the fray,” admitted Verasa.

  “Let them come,” declared Markus. “They’ll regret it.”

  “So will we,” said Verasa. “Not as much as them, I trust.”

  Verasa knew that the Barons would not begin their attack until the wolf nights. Only then would their superior numbers be effective, when all of their followers could transform into werewolves. Verasa also knew that the twins were due to play in London the night before the next wolf night. Did Sarapen intend to attack the gig before returning to Scotland? It was a worrying possibility. Verasa had sent werewolves to London to help guard all the vulnerable members of the Great Council, but since the castle came under threat she’d been obliged to recall many of them.

  By her reckoning, there was still enough protection for those in England. Sarapen might even find himself defeated in London, and unable to lead his werewolves against the castle. Markus hoped that wasn’t the case. He looked forward to the encounter. Markus believed that he could best his brother. Verasa was not so sure. Werewolves from her personal guard were under instructions to ensure that if battle came, Markus was never left unguarded.

  185

  Dominil drove Kalix home after the young werewolf’s encounter with the twins. The sky over London was grey. Cold rain had been falling for most of the day, mixed with some light snow. Dominil hoped for a dry night for the gig. She was concerned that the event might be poorly attended. Several bands were playing but none of them were well known, and the gig was on a Wednesday, not the best night for attracting an audience.