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The Anxiety of Kalix the Werewolf

Page 42

by Martin Millar


  “Have you been sitting here in a bad mood just because you made a date with Garfire?”

  “Garfire would put any right-thinking woman in a bad mood.”

  “Well, just cancel the date.”

  “It is not as simple as that, idiotic niece. It was easy for you to plunge me into this whirlwind of ambitious noblemen. It is not so easy for me to extricate myself. One cannot insult Garfire without insulting the Duchess Gargamond. Palace politics are complex, and you would do well to learn about it.”

  “Pfff,” said Agrivex.

  “What does ‘pfff’ mean?”

  “I’ll get you out of it,” said Agrivex, and headed for the door.

  The Fire Queen rose hurriedly. “Agrivex, do not meddle—”

  By this time Agrivex was in the outer chamber. Garfire stood there, in his best formal fire cloak.

  “Duke Garfire!” said Vex. “Nice to see you. I’m sorry the Queen can’t see you today. She’s got another engagement. All my fault, I double-booked, you know how scatty I am.”

  “Another engagement?”

  “I promised she’d receive Beau DeMortalis.”

  “Agrivex,” came the Queen’s voice as she rushed from the chamber.

  “I just forgot all about it,” continued Agrivex. “But we can’t disappoint DeMortalis, he’d be crushed. Anyway, understandable error, all my fault.

  The Duke looked from Agrivex to the Fire Queen, and back again.

  “Well, I am most sorry to hear this. I suppose the error is . . . understandable.” He bowed. “I trust we can make the arrangement another time, mighty Queen.” The Duke left the chamber.

  “See?” said Agrivex. “That wasn’t so difficult.”

  “Why did you say I would receive Duke DeMortalis?”

  “Well, he’s in the palace, isn’t he?”

  “In the visitor’s guest wing. I cannot officially receive him in my chambers.”

  “Why not?” said Agrivex. “Aren’t you always saying he’s the only aristocrat you actually like?”

  “Yes, but he is not a suitable person for me to receive.”

  “I don’t see why not. You can’t be carrying on ancient prejudices forever. If anyone objects, just say your idiot niece organized it. Well, Aunty, I’m tired. I’m off for a sleep.”

  The Fire Queen glared at her niece. “One moment, dismal niece. I take it your powers of fire have not improved?”

  “I’m working on them.”

  “Would you care to demonstrate your progress?”

  “I really need to sleep,” said Vex, who had made no progress at all. “Traveling between dimensions really wears me out.”

  “I think your unsuitable boyfriend is more likely to have worn you out.”

  “Do you have to read my aura all the time?” said Vex.

  “One does not need to read your aura. Your annoying grin gives you away.”

  “I’d better get some sleep,” said Agrivex, and departed as quickly as she could.

  Behind her the Queen was thoughtful. She sent for Gruselvere and Iskiline. “My niece has just announced that I am to receive Beau DeMortalis.”

  Her chief dresser and her wardrobe mistress were astonished.

  “Here in your own chambers?” said Iskiline. “Officially?”

  “Yes. Can I allow the Duke to visit me?”

  “I don’t think so,” said Gruselvere. “He fought against you in the war.”

  “He did. But the Duke has surely restored his reputation. More recently he fought at my side during Distikka’s rebellion. It’s true that he stumbled upon the battle by accident after leaving the bedchamber of a kitchen maid, but at least he came.”

  Gruselvere picked up a heavy crystal decanter and poured three glasses of port.

  “The Duke still has a bad reputation,” she said. “There’s the gambling. And drinking. And the succession of kitchen maids.”

  “But he is such a wit,” said Iskiline. “And he has beautiful clothes.”

  The Fire Queen sipped from her crystal goblet. “Xakthan would no doubt be unhappy were I to receive DeMortalis. But I believe the population would not be outraged.”

  In her bedchamber, Vex noticed that one of her small blue flowers was wilting. She put her hand over it and a tiny blue flame flowed into the flower. It responded immediately, raising its face healthily toward the ceiling. The ceiling was still covered in streaks of silver, spray-painted by Vex, to the Fire Queen’s great disgust.

  “My super-cunning plan for marrying off Aunt Malvie is going well,” she told the flower.

  Beau DeMortalis, Duke of the Black Castle, was surprised to be summoned to the throne room.

  “DeMortalis,” said the Queen, quite imperiously, “I will receive a visit from you in my own wing of the palace.”

  “This is a great honor—”

  “You will make sure your attendants are respectable. I want none of your dubious entourage of harlots and so-called kitchen maids. Nor will you bring any of your disreputable gambling associates, particularly the Dead Prince of Garamlock, who I am quite certain cheats at cards by summoning information from beyond the grave.”

  The Duke of the Black Castle bowed. “I’ll do as you say, mighty Queen.”

  CHAPTER 113

  After finishing her glass of wine, Dominil was ready to visit the hotel room.

  “Have you considered the Guild might use that hotel?” said Thrix. “It could be full of hunters.”

  “I’ve considered it. I’ll take the risk.”

  Thrix was struck by Dominil’s courage. Thrix was untroubled by the prospect of meeting hunters. Due to the spells of bafflement she’d woven around herself there was little chance of her being recognized. Even if she were, she had power enough to either kill her enemies or simply disappear into thin air. Dominil had no such power, and she was very recognizable. By now there must be many members of the Guild who’d heard of the tall werewolf with white hair.

  “I’ll come with you,” said Thrix. “But I think I need to talk to Malveria first. When I looked at that house I really sensed nothing. I don’t know if that’s because there was nothing to sense or because of the stone dwarves’ powers.”

  Dominil nodded. “I took the room for a week. We could wait till we’ve talked to Queen Malveria. How do you normally communicate?”

  “I can summon her. We could drive back to my apartment and I’ll do it there.”

  They both tried to pay the bill.

  “I’ve got it,” said Thrix.

  “Has your income not suffered recently?”

  “You mean since I started neglecting my business? Yes, a lot. I can still afford to buy you a glass of wine.”

  Thrix drove them toward her flat in Knightsbridge. Another driver cut them off as they went round the roundabout at Hyde Park. Thrix swore so loudly and violently that Dominil looked at her with an expression of surprise.

  “Sorry,” muttered Thrix. “Still a bit on edge.”

  The traffic lights were at red. When they changed to green, there was a very slight delay as the car in front of them took a few seconds to move. Thrix again gave forth a torrent of abuse.

  “Sorry,” she muttered again.

  “I don’t recall you being quite this unpleasant when driving,” said Dominil.

  Thrix made an effort to control herself. Dominil noticed that Thrix’s knuckles were white as she gripped the steering wheel. Driving her Mercedes seemed to have brought all her anger back to the surface. Dominil was displeased as they drove into the car park beneath Thrix’s apartment block.

  “You’ll need to control yourself better when we attack the Guild,” she said quite curtly.

  “What do you mean?” said the Enchantress. “And who says you’ll be in charge anyway?”

  “Whoever is in charge will need you to control yourself better.”

  Thrix glared at her cousin. “Let’s call Malveria,” she said, and marched toward the lift.

  Having seen fresh evidence of Thrix�
�s abrupt mood swings, Dominil was concerned. When they did make their attack on the Guild, Thrix really would have to control herself better. If she didn’t, Dominil felt sure that something would go wrong. Thrix’s apartment was now very untidy, though she had managed to get the front door repaired. She made a quick visit to her storeroom, returning with a handful of dried herbs that she dumped unceremoniously into a bronze jar. She spoke a few words and the herbs began to smolder. An aroma of jasmine filled the air.

  “Well, this is a surprise,” said the Fire Queen, appearing in the middle of the room. “It is a long time since you summoned me.”

  “That’s because you visit every day.”

  “And it is always so nice to see you.” The Fire Queen raised her eyebrows as she caught sight of the jar. “I notice you didn’t perform the full ceremony.”

  “Sorry, Malveria, I was in a hurry.”

  “I am the Fire Queen, you know. Great ruler of the Hiyasta elementals. To be summoned only in time of dire need, at great personal effort, with due ceremony.”

  “The new shoes have arrived from Milan,” said Thrix.

  “Really?” Malveria skipped with joy. “I must see them.”

  “They’re at my office. But first I need help. We think we’ve found the Guild’s headquarters but we’re not sure.”

  Thrix and Dominil looked expectantly at the Fire Queen.

  “Did the pink peep-toe platform court shoe arrive?” asked Malveria.

  “Yes,” said Thrix. “But we were rather hoping for some information about the stone dwarves’ ‘House That Can’t Be Found.’”

  “I am much keener to talk about shoes.”

  “Malveria, every time I’ve mentioned the stone dwarves’ house you’ve been unresponsive. Why?”

  “No reason. I just do not like stone dwarves. Do we have to keep talking of them?”

  “It is important,” said Dominil. “We need information.”

  Malveria was looking quite unhappy as they pressed her on the subject. “I have little knowledge of stone dwarves’ lore.”

  “That’s hard to believe,” said Thrix. “You know everything about elementals.”

  “Well, I don’t know about the stone dwarves!” snapped Malveria. “Were I not keen to see my new shoes, I would depart in a temper.”

  “The yellow sandals arrived too,” said Thrix.

  “Enchantress, are you attempting to blackmail me with shoes?”

  “Yes.”

  “It will not work.”

  “The pink platforms have ruched rosettes, delicately draped across the ankle and spilling down to the open toe.”

  “I must have them immediately!” The Fire Queen looked momentarily anguished. “If you really wish to know more about the stone dwarves, ask Queen Dithean NicRinnalch. She has encountered them in the past. More than that, I won’t say. Now take me to the shoes.”

  “I have something else to discuss,” said Dominil. “But it has to be in private.”

  The Fire Queen looked at Dominil with some surprise. “You mean without Thrix knowing?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is this something about your laudanum addiction?” asked Thrix. “Because I already know about that.”

  “It’s a personal matter.”

  Thrix shrugged, apparently unconcerned. “Fine. Talk in private. Malveria, I’ll head over to my office. You can follow me there when you’ve finished with Dominil.”

  “But I want the shoes now!” The Fire Queen, faced with a delay in obtaining her new shoes, seemed about to deny Dominil her request. She relented, not very gracefully.

  “Very well. I will talk in private. But really, this has been a poor visit. First I am summoned without proper ceremony and then I am cruelly interrogated and now I am prevented from having my new shoes. It is all very trying.”

  Thrix put a few things in her bag, and left her apartment.

  “Well?” said the Fire Queen.

  “I need a favor and you can’t tell Thrix about it.”

  “Realistically, that is not likely to happen,” said the Fire Queen. “I end up telling Thrix everything.”

  “Then perhaps you could promise not to tell her this.”

  “Tell me what it is and I will see if I will promise.”

  Dominil had known that it would be a problem keeping the matter of Sarapen from Thrix. Malveria was not discreet, but Dominil could think of no one else who might help her.

  “A werewolf I know is stranded in the land of the Hainusta, at the Empress’s palace. I want to rescue him.”

  The Fire Queen blinked. This was stranger than she had expected. For a moment she forgot about her shoes. “Which werewolf?”

  “I can’t tell you his name.”

  “Really. And how did he become stranded?”

  “The Empress is not willing to send him back, and he has no means of transporting himself here.”

  “How did he get there in the first place?”

  “The Empress took him.”

  By now Dominil had the Fire Queen’s full attention. “What you are asking, Dominil, does not sound easy. The mere act of transportation would not be difficult. Were I standing beside this werewolf, I could simply carry him with me. But I am not standing beside him, and nor am I likely to be if he is a prisoner in the Empress’s palace.”

  “Are you the only one who could transport him?”

  “No. Any reasonably powerful elemental could bring him back. But again, how is this elemental to get there? The Empress does not allow free access to her palace.”

  “I wondered if your espionage services might be able to help.”

  The Fire Queen fell silent. She looked at her reflection in one of Thrix’s large mirrors, and appeared satisfied. “You are asking for a very large favor. One which there seems no reason for me to grant.”

  “So you won’t help?”

  “I did not say that. What did you have in mind as a payment?”

  “Whatever it costs.”

  The Fire Queen laughed. “That is not a payment you should offer lightly to the Fire Queen. You encounter me here, a friend of Thrix, and you forget what I really am.”

  A halo of golden flame appeared round Malveria’s head. “I am the ruler of the Hiyasta, Wielder of Flame, Guardian of the Great Volcano. And for favors to mortals, I charge very highly.”

  “Well?” said Dominil. “What do you want?”

  The Fire Queen let the flames around her head dispel.

  “My new shoes, at this moment. But I will consider your request. I will be in touch to tell you if I can help and what it will cost.”

  Dominil nodded. The Fire Queen snapped her fingers and disappeared. Dominil let herself out of the flat and walked toward the lift, wondering just what sort of payment the Fire Queen might expect for her services. Whatever it was, Dominil knew she would feel an obligation to pay it. Sarapen was an enemy, but he was also a MacRinnalch werewolf. She couldn’t leave him trapped in a hostile dimension.

  CHAPTER 114

  Thrix took the Fire Queen’s advice, and traveled to Scotland the next day to consult the Fairy Queen. She approached Colburn Woods with some anxiety. Thrix knew she’d neglected the Fairy Queen in recent years. She hadn’t paid her respects nearly as often as she should.

  “I hope she’s in a good mood.”

  Thrix arrived in the Queen’s private glade just as the Fairy Queen was scolding one of her subjects. Thrix halted at a respectful distance. She recognized the fairy with the slight bluish tinge to her skin, the great mass of thick black hair and delicate black wings. Teinn, bringer of ill health.

  Queen Dithean raised her voice in anger. Teinn responded by giggling before somersaulting into the air. Her black wings flickered, too quickly to follow, and she darted into the cover of the trees. Queen Dithean shouted after her but there was no response. Thrix felt embarrassed, as if she’d arrived in the middle of a family argument.

  “Have I come at a bad time?”

  Queen Dithean flew ov
er and floated in front of Thrix’s face. “Not really. It’s just Teinn misbehaving again.”

  “That was a stern lecture. I am sure she won’t do it again.”

  The Fairy Queen laughed. “She will take no notice at all.” She changed her size, becoming human. “I keep Teinn mostly under control but she will break out occasionally.”

  “Has she caused deaths among the local population?”

  “No, though she started a terrible outbreak of flu in the village. As humans are so weak, that may carry some of them off. But flu will come to humans anyway, with or without Teinn. Unfortunately, she wasn’t content with that. She will insist on spreading the most harmful gossip.”

  Thrix walked with Dithean to the top of the mound. In the late summer the grass was thick and green. So were the surrounding trees. Everything in Queen Dithean’s wood was lush and healthy.

  “What did Teinn do?”

  “She whispered in the postmistress’s ear that her husband was having an affair with the wife of the man who owns the local garage. It’s created a terrible scandal.”

  “Was it true?”

  “Yes, unfortunately.” The Fairy Queen frowned. “But while it remained private there was no great harm done. Now the village is in uproar. And I like that postmistress. She leaves whisky out for us. If she moves away, I’ll be furious with Teinn.”

  “But you have plenty of whisky.”

  “True. But it is always nice to be treated with respect.”

  “I brought you this scarf from London,” said Thrix immediately.

  “Thank you! That is a lovely gift.”

  Queen Dithean turned her face to the edge of the glade and clapped her hands. Two fairies in bright yellow costumes flew forward and handed her tiny thimbles full of whisky and dew. The Fairy Queen thanked them, enlarged the thimbles and handed one to Thrix.

  “Slàinte mhath,” said the Fairy Queen, wishing her guest good health.

  “Slàinte mhath,” responded Thrix. They drained their glasses.

  “It is some time since you last visited me.” The Fairy Queen looked pointedly at Thrix.

  “Is it?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m in London most of the time. I don’t get much opportunity—”

 

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