There was widespread amazement that Dominil had somehow persuaded the notoriously anti-social sisters Butix and Delix to return to Scotland for the council meeting. No one had ever expected to see them at the castle again. Some of the younger werewolves, children who’d never seen the twins, hung from their windows around the courtyard, awe-struck at the sight of their great manes of pink and blue hair. Werewolf parents sighed, and told their offspring that no, they could not do the same to their hair, and nor could they leave immediately for London to start bands, live riotously and bring shame on the clan. And they certainly couldn’t change their names to anything ridiculous like Beauty and Delicious.
Tupan was waiting to greet his daughter, and they embraced, rather formally, as was normal. The Enchantress arrived a little later in the day. As she entered the castle she was on her phone, talking to Ann about Malveria’s outfit for tonight. She regretted taking time out from her schedule to come to the council meeting, but felt she couldn’t really miss it. Her mother would complain terribly.
Of the other members of the council, Verasa, Markus, Dulupina, Lucia, Kurian and Kertal were all inside the castle. As Sarapen was dead, Lucia’s son Decembrius was due to take his place on the council but the appointment had not yet been ratified. Decembrius remained in London. This left only the three Barons, and Marwanis. Night was falling and the snow was deep on the ground before they arrived. They came together, and entered sullenly through the gates, to be greeted courteously by the Mistress of the Werewolves. The Barons accepted her welcome civily, even young Douglas MacAllister. Only Marwanis remained aloof. Marwanis would hate the Mistress of the Werewolves forever, and everyone who had contributed to Sarapen’s downfall.
Kalix would not be attending. She was still outlawed, and had not been invited.
231
Kalix lay in her favourite clump of bushes in Kennington Park, far away from all company. She stared up at the sky. Overhead there were one hundred and twenty-five billion galaxies. She knew this because Moonglow had been listening to a science programme on the radio. Kalix tried to imagine one hundred and twenty-five billion galaxies. It was such a large number it was confusing to even think about. The young werewolf lay on the ground, looking at the stars, and felt confused. She didn’t know what to think about anything. The news of Gawain’s affair with Thrix had been too much for her to comprehend. The weight of it crushed her and left her hardly able to move.
She’d had thoughts of attacking Thrix and killing Gawain. These thoughts were briefly comforting but ultimately more upsetting and they faded away, leaving her desolate. Her anxiety had diminished, pushed out of the way by depression. It didn’t feel like an improvement. She sipped some laudanum. Soon she’d need to visit the Merchant, to renew her supply.
Kalix wondered briefly about her family. She’d killed Sarapen. She didn’t know what would happen as a result of that. More trouble, probably. Misery over Gawain welled up inside her. She started to cry, even though it was almost unheard of to shed tears while in werewolf form. She became so upset that she did something she’d never done before, which was use her great incisor teeth to cut her own arm. After this, she felt a little better.
As the moon rose high overhead, Kalix changed into her full wolf form, lifted up her head, and howled at the moon. It was a long note filled with pain and misery. Anyone who heard it shivered, and hurried away as fast as they could.
232
Two months ago the Great Council had failed to elect a new Thane. That would not happen again. As Sarapen was no longer here, the vote was hardly more than a formality. Had Sarapen still been alive, the vote would have been closer but in all probability, Verasa would still have had her way. She’d never wavered from her task of gathering support for Markus.
Sarapen’s body had not been recovered but he was presumed to be dead. A werewolf could not survive having the Begravar knife thrust deep into his chest. No healing and no sorcery could reverse the effects of such a wound, as the Enchantress attested. Kalix was condemned on all sides for using such a weapon on a fellow werewolf, even a deadly enemy. The condemnation was mitigated a little when Verasa spread it around that the knife had been brought there by Sarapen himself, but there were those who did not believe this, and felt it was more likely that the criminal Kalix had stolen the knife. Dominil did not volunteer the information that she had brought it to the gig, and neither did Thrix.
There were fifteen members of the Great Council in the chamber, Kalix and Decembrius being absent. The atmosphere was less hostile than might have been expected. The Mistress of the Werewolves had treated the defeated Barons generously, welcoming them without any sign of triumph or bitterness. Most supporters of Sarapen now wished for a return to more peaceful times. Of the Barons, only the young MacAllister showed any sign of resentment, and he made efforts to control it. It was his first council meeting and he didn’t want to appear unstatesmanlike. Only Marwanis was openly hostile.
When Rainal called for nominations for Thane, no one spoke. Dominil remained silent. Having seen Sarapen defeated, Dominil had lost the urge to nominate anyone. Verasa turned her eyes on Kurian.
“I nominate Markus MacRinnalch,” said Kurian.
Kurian was a brother of the old Thane. He was a suitable werewolf to propose Markus. His poor health had rendered him susceptible to persuasion. Besides, he was worried about what the Mistress of the Werewolves might decide to do to his son Kertal, after his arrest. Kertal himself was planning to vote for Markus with a show of enthusiasm, in the hope that his plan to hand the castle over to the Barons might be forgotten.
Clan secretary Rainal counted the raised hands. There were thirteen: Verasa, Lucia, Markus, Dominil, Thrix, Butix, Delix, Kurian, Kertal, Dulupina, Tupan, Baron MacGregor and Baron MacPhee. Baron MacAllister and Marwanis, with no alternative candidate to vote for, abstained.
“I declare that Markus MacRinnalch is the new Thane,” said Rainal, thus ending the feud.
“Is there any other business?” asked Rainal.
Great Mother Dulupina raised one hand a few inches from the table.
“The continuing status of Kalix MacRinnalch as outlaw,” she said.
The Mistress of the Werewolves was taken by surprise. The huge fire in the corner burned brightly but at the mention of Kalix’s name the atmosphere in the council chamber grew noticeably cooler.
233
Malveria triumphed at the Sorceress Livia’s 500th birthday celebration. There was one awkward moment, when she first arrived in her golden carriage. The great ladies and gentlemen of court were all dressed very formally and as Malveria stepped out of her carriage with her garments ripped and bloodstained there was a surprised hush. Princes Kabachetka turned to Apthalia the Grim to make a crushing comment. Before she could do so, Beau DeMortalis, Duke of the Black Castle and fabulous dandy, was distinctly heard to say to his friend the Molten Lord of Garamlock, “It’s a refreshing change of pace.” The awkward silence was broken and the assorted guests murmured in admiration at Malveria’s courageous feat of appearing at Livia’s on the same day as she’d been victorious in battle.
The Fire Queen descended into Livia’s underground mansion with her head held high and from then on everything went her way. Once the discerning guests were exposed to Malveria’s new, undamaged clothes, her status rose even further. The Enchantress’s elegant and beautiful designs were universally acclaimed. They were far superior to anything else on display. Malveria walked through the events of that day and the next with a feeling of blissful superiority. Even when she encountered Princess Kabachetka, she remained tranquil. The matter of the Princess’s attack on her clothes was not alluded to. Malveria simply complimented Kabachetka on the beauty of her garments. The Princess, knowing that her wardrobe did not match up to her rival’s, accepted the compliments with burning eyes and what little grace she could muster.
At the end of each day Malveria would hurry back to Moonglow’s attic to pick up her clothes for the next part of t
he celebration. She had placed further spells there to protect her clothes, though she did not really fear another attack. The battle was already won.
On the third night of the party, Malveria received a message from First Minister Xakthan, requesting an audience. Malveria was slightly irked. She summoned Xakthan, and explained to him rather testily that she had no time to spare for the mundane business of running a kingdom.
“Day four is still a source of some stress. My hat and shoes for the great chariot race were damaged by the Princess and I am praying that the Enchantress has managed to replace them.”
“Forgive me, Queen,” said Xakthan. “But we have a report from our intelligence services concerning the attack on your majesty’s wardrobe.”
Malveria leaned forward on her throne.
“Proceed.”
“Our new agent in Kabachetka’s household reports that the Princess was indeed given information as to the whereabouts of your clothes. But the informant was not the girl Moonglow. It was a young man of her acquaintance. He is called Jay.”
Malveria slapped her palm on the arm of her jewelled throne.
“Jay! I have met this man! He greatly offended me! So it was he who betrayed me? Are you sure of this?”
“I am. Apparently he was upset by Moonglow rejecting him and was thus easily corrupted by Kabachetka’s charms.”
Xakthan noticed that his words had displeased the Queen.
“Kabachetka’s charms being sorcerously enhanced, of course, to hide her true vile nature,” he added, tactfully.
“Of course,” muttered Malveria. “No doubt she apprehended him in some low tavern where the dim light could hide the repulsiveness of her features. So, it was he and not Moonglow who betrayed me. I am relieved. It would have pained me to take revenge on Moonglow, because she has shown me great hospitality.”
“You mean you will no longer break her heart?”
The Fire Queen looked surprised.
“What? Of course I will break her heart. That bargain has already been made. But I will spare her further chastisement. Now I must depart. The shoes must be ready, and they must be brought from Italy. You would be surprised at the trouble this can cause in the human world, with the difficulties involved in the postal services.”
“Postal services?” said Xakthan.
“A primitive method for transporting goods. Very often it leads to chaos.”
234
The twins were distressed to learn than Dominil was not coming back to London.
“What do you mean you’re staying at the castle?” said Delicious. “You can’t abandon us now.”
“The castle is awful,” said Beauty. “All stone walls and battlements. Who needs it? You don’t want to stay here.”
“I’m very comfortable here.”
“But you’ll be bored,” said Delicious. She looked towards her sister for support.
“Didn’t she say she was bored when she was here?”
“She did,” agreed Beauty. “Really bored. You need something to do.”
“Drink more whisky,” suggested Beauty, proffering a bottle to Dominil. “It’ll clear your mind.”
Dominil regarded the twins, slightly less coldly than normally.
“It was never intended that I would remain with you permanently. It was a task of limited duration.”
“Well just extend it a bit,” said Beauty. “We need you to organise more gigs and stuff.”
“Exactly,” agreed Delicious. “There’s a lot of stuff to do.”
“We need a booking agent. And a website. And internet publicity. And music downloads. You could do that.”
Dominil sipped from the bottle.
“I could. But didn’t you spend the whole time I was in London complaining about my presence and writing hostile songs about me?”
“I don’t think so,” replied Delicious. “Beauty, do you remember anything like that?”
Beauty shook her head.
“No, I don’t remember that.”
“And to be fair,” said Delicious. “We never said we liked you. But you have to come back to London.”
Dominil declined. She wasn’t going back. She planned to return to the tranquillity of the castle and complete her translations of Latin poetry. Beauty and Delicious were annoyed, and went off to complain to the Mistress of the Werewolves. As they tramped around the stone corridors of Castle MacRinnalch they were followed by young werewolves who giggled as they passed, and worked up the courage to ask for autographs. Yum Yum Sugary Snacks were already acquiring legendary status among the younger inhabitants of the castle.
The Mistress of the Werewolves was slightly more sympathetic towards the twins these days. They had, after all, voted for Markus. However, she was not encouraging. She pointed out that Dominil, a werewolf of immense intellect, could hardly be expected to spend all her time looking after Yum Yum Sugary Snacks.
“I’m sure she has weightier things on her mind.”
The twins went off, dissatisfied, complaining to each other about how much they hated Castle MacRinnalch and what a waste of time it had been coming here. Markus MacRinnalch had thanked them very graciously for their votes, but what use was that?
“It’s okay for pretty boy Markus,” said Beauty. “He likes this place. And he’s welcome to it. But we’ve got things to do. And we need Dominil.”
The twins put their heads together, and plotted ways of convincing Dominil to return.
The Mistress of the Werewolves had not yet grieved for her eldest son. Perhaps she would tonight, when she attended the memorial service for him. Whether or not she felt grief, it was unseemly that his body had disappeared. She asked Thrix to apply to Malveria for news of Princess Kabachetka, to find out if it could be recovered. Thrix chaffed at the thought, though she felt unable to refuse. The moment the service for Sarapen was over, she was heading back to London and hoped to put all family matters out of her head for a long time to come.
Verasa was satisfied, almost. Markus was Thane. The MacRinnalchs could move forward with the rest of the world, and let the violence of their werewolf heritage pass into history. Her sole dissatisfaction concerned Kalix. The Great Council had refused to lift her condemnation. She was still outlawed, required to be brought back as a captive to the castle for sentencing. Verasa had not been able to persuade a majority of the council otherwise. The biggest shock had been that Markus had not cast his vote in favour of pardoning Kalix. Verasa was very displeased. Perhaps Markus was just making a show of independence, now he was Thane. He wouldn’t want it thought that he was too much under the influence of his mother. Verasa was prepared for this. She wouldn’t apply too much pressure at first. But in the long run, she had no intention of allowing Markus to run the clan’s affairs any differently than she would have done herself.
Verasa’s musing was interrupted by the re-appearance of Beauty and Delicious.
“Kalix,” said Beauty.
“What about her?”
“She’s probably one step away from suicide. You know, with the Gawain thing,” said Delicious.
“You know about the Gawain thing, right? With Thrix?”
Verasa did, though it was not something she wanted to talk about. She’d been appalled to learn that her eldest daughter had formed an association with the banished Gawain.
“So you have to send Dominil back to London.”
“I’m afraid I don’t follow you,” said the Mistress of the Werewolves.
“Dominil has a lot of influence with Kalix.”
“Does she?”
“She does,” said Beauty. “Kalix is always trotting around after her. It’s weird, but Kalix is weird. You wouldn’t want her to throw herself in front of a train or anything. You’d better send Dominil back to have a word with her.”
235
Daniel and Moonglow’s lives were returning to normal. Moonglow’s anguish over Markus had receded a little. Daniel was no longer seeing Alicia. Malveria was still picking up clothes from the
attic but that would be over in a day or two. They were relieved. They’d had enough excitement. They did what they could to comfort Kalix but the young werewolf didn’t seem to want comforting, and was rarely at home.
“She should never have fallen in love with a werewolf,” said Daniel.
“Well who else did you expect her to fall in love with?” asked Moonglow.
They were sitting on the couch, studying together.
“You think maybe you’d be a good candidate?” suggested Moonglow, teasing him.
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Well, the way you’ve been getting through girls recently, what with Alicia and Vex…”
Daniel tried not to look embarrassed.
“Neither of them were right,” he said. “They weren’t who I wanted.”
“They weren’t?”
Daniel edged a little closer to Moonglow. Vex suddenly appeared in the room with a crash. Her teleporting had gone slightly wrong and she tumbled over a chair.
“Ow!” she wailed, climbing to her feet. “I bumped my elbow.”
The doorbell rang.
“What did you say about our lives returning to normal?” said Daniel, scowling, and trudged downstairs to answer it. He opened the door and took a brisk step backwards. It was Dominil. Her eyes were as black and penetrating as ever, her skin pale and her hair dazzling white.
“I am looking for Kalix.”
‘It’s like opening the door to the grim reaper,’ thought Daniel. He welcomed her in, not very graciously. He’d had the feeling in recent days that Moonglow was warming towards him. It had been very significant that she’d agreed to study together on the couch. Had it not been for the unwelcome intervention of Vex and Dominil, who knew what might have happened?
Upstairs Moonglow was rubbing Vex’s elbow.
“It’s really sore,” said Vex, though she didn’t look like she was in much pain. “Hi Dominil! Are Yum Yum Sugary Snacks going to play again?”
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