Martin Millar - Lonely Werewolf Girl (13 page)

"Perhaps it would give them something new and engaging to
write about, dear," said Verasa, who was not entirely without a sense
of humour.

The Thane's death had come too quickly for Verasa. The Great
Council consisted of seventeen members and the new Thane required nine
votes to be elected. The Mistress of the Werewolves was not yet in a
position to guarantee Markus enough of these votes.

"I understand that the American editors of Deportment magazine
are staging a European fashion show in New York in a few months time,"
said Verasa.

"So?"

"So think how beneficial it would be for you to show your
designs there."

"The show is only for Italian designers," said Thrix, a little
surprised that her mother even knew of the event.

"That was the plan," said Verasa. "However I was talking to
the chairman of the board of the company which owns the magazine just
the other week, while I was giving a substantial donation to a charity
of which he's the patron. I really feel that the magazine might be
willing to extend their foreign fashion week to include one or two
select British designers."

Thrix looked at her mother.

"Are you trying to bribe me?"

"Bribe you?" The Mistress of the Werewolves looked shocked.
"My goodness, Thrix. You do surprise me sometimes with the amusing
things you say. You know I'm always on the lookout for the welfare of
my children."

38

Daniel and Moonglow travelled home on the bus.

"Just to clarify matters in my own mind," said Daniel. "We are
attempting to help a crazy young Scottish werewolf with a long history
of anti-social behaviour. The other werewolves can't help us right now
because they have to elect a new leader. But a fire spirit - or
elemental, whatever that is - who's queen of a different dimension but
just pops over to the Earth to get her clothes made by one of these
werewolves, is on her way back to her own dimension to find a new
mystic pendant and then she's going to help us find the young werewolf
who is presumably roaming the streets at this moment."

"That seems to be about right," said Moonglow.

"Did we perhaps go insane?" wondered Daniel.

"I don't think so."

"Because if we did, you know, we might not realise. This bus
might be an ambulance taking us to the asylum and we wouldn't know
anything about it because we're insane."

"But we're both here thinking the same thoughts," pointed out
Moonglow. "I don't think we'd both get struck by the same kind of
insanity right at the same time."

"What if you're not here?" said Daniel. "It might just be me
that's crazy."

He started to look worried. Moonglow pinched him hard on the
arm.

"Ow! Why did you do that?"

"To let you know it was real."

"Pinching only works when you think you're dreaming," said Daniel, crossly. "It doesn't work when you think you're crazy."

When they arrived home Moonglow reapplied her nail varnish
because she'd become self-conscious about the poor state of her nails
while conversing with Thrix and the Fire Queen, both of whose nail
varnish was absolutely perfect. Meanwhile Daniel lay on the couch
listening to Slayer and pretending that none of this was really
happening. The door bell rang. Moonglow opened the door to find
Malveria looking pleased with herself.

"Once I was confused by door bells but now I have quite
mastered the art. Shall we go?"

"Please come in," said Moonglow. "Daniel isn't quite ready
yet."

Malveria, who was perhaps eight hundred years old, though time
in her dimension was not exactly the same as time on earth, tripped
into the little apartment with the enthusiasm of a young girl. Really,
she had been bored in her dimension for a long time. Since getting rid
of her family and destroying all of her serious rivals with her immense
power she hadn't known what to do with herself. It was good being
absolute mistress of her realm but for the last fifty years or more
she'd been suffering from a troubling sense of tedium. Meeting Thrix
and entering the world of Haute Couture had greatly improved her life.
And now this visit to Daniel and Moonglow promised to be very
entertaining. She hoped that Daniel would blush again. It amused her
so. And perhaps the girl Moonglow might explain why she only wore black
clothes. Could she be a sorceress?

"Mind the steps," said Moonglow, leading Malveria upstairs.
"The light isn't working."

Malveria snapped her fingers and light appeared, illuminating
the narrow staircase.

"Eh… thank you," said Moonglow.

In the living room Daniel was still lying on the couch.
Malveria was a little offended by this, which Moonglow sensed.

"Get up," she said. "We have a visitor."

Daniel roused himself to a sitting position.

"Would you like something to eat?" asked Moonglow, who was
always a polite hostess. "We have pop-tarts."

"I absolutely want a pop-tart," said the Fire Queen,
enthusiastically. "What is it?"

"I'll just put one in the toaster for you," said Moonglow, and
went off to the kitchen. Malveria followed at her heels, eager to see
what a toaster was. Daniel trooped after them. The kitchen in their new
flat was just large enough for three people, a fridge and a small
cooker.

"I'm sorry about the mess," said Moonglow.

"Have you dismissed your servants?"

"Eh… no, we don't have any servants."

"No servants at all?"

Malveria looked at them suspiciously, wondering if they were
lying.

"Not a servant to be found," said Daniel.

"That is so strange. Do you make your own food?"

"Well, we generally get pizza delivered."

"By slaves?"

Moonglow made tea while the pop-tart cooked in the toaster.

"Did you bring a pendant for Kalix?" she asked.

"I did," replied the Fire Queen.

The Pendant of Tamol had cost Malveria a lot. To get it she'd
had to trade with a neighbouring king and his asking price had been a
great deal of gold, several secret spells and the return of two
hostages. Malveria had paid his price, substantial though it was. She
produced a small pendant from her handbag.

"This will hide Kalix."

"It's very nice of you to bring it," said Moonglow.

The Fire Queen was pleased that Moonglow showed some
appreciation. Noticing that Daniel was being very quiet, she turned to
face him.

"Did you like the little werewolf girl?" she asked him.

"Eh… well…"

"He called her a wild beauty," said Moonglow. Daniel blushed.
Malveria laughed. In the tiny kitchen it was easy for her to press up
against Daniel. She put her dusky face only a few inches from his.

"But surely you must meet many wild beauties?"

Malveria was so beautiful that Daniel hardly knew where to
look. He blushed a deeper colour and tried unsuccessfully to withdraw
from the slight pressure on his chest created by the Fire Queen's
breasts. Malveria laughed again. Already she was enjoying herself.

"But it is true what the Enchantress said to you, young
humans. People who involve themselves with the werewolf clan will very
probably be killed."

"Okay, let's not do it," said Daniel.

"Too late," said Malveria. "You went to visit Thrix."

"I knew it was a mistake."

"It was not a mistake," insisted Moonglow. "Kalix needs our
help. Why is it every other werewolf hates her?"

"Of that I am not certain," answered Malveria. "My race, which
is called
Hiyasta
, does not get along with
werewolves as a rule. In particular, we are enemies of the
MacRinnalchs. Really, my friendship with Thrix is quite extraordinary.
And as to their motivations, who can say?"

"What about people who get involved with Fire Spirits? Do they
get killed too?" asked Daniel. "I couldn't help noticing one of your
titles was
Persecutor of Mankind
."

Malveria smiled.

"We do not do so much persecuting of mankind these days.
Though it is true we do not regard them kindly, in general. It dates
back to the time when humans discovered how to make fire, which my
ancestors resented, as fire is our preserve. But these days, our paths
rarely cross, unless there is an erupting volcano, which we have to
take care of."

The pop-tart popped up from the toaster. The Fire Queen, who
at her last grand banquet had turned away every exquisite dish with a
bored sigh, picked it up from her plate with interest. She nibbled at
it.

"I like the pop-tart," she said. "Make me another one."

39

Beside the stream Gawain rolled off of Kalix and lay panting
for breath. He took his human form and lay there, staring up at the
clouds. Kalix nuzzled him with her wolf's nose and raised up her head
to look at him. Gawain was so handsome, as wolf or human. He frowned
like a poet, she'd tell him, cheerfully mocking his slightly brooding
nature. And Gawain, who was on occasion given to brooding, would laugh.
He had never met anyone like the young Kalix who could make him laugh
so easily before.

Suddenly, and shockingly, a knife flew through the air to thud
into Gawain's back. He pitched forward and Kalix could smell the blood
pumping out of his heart. Worse, she could sense that the blade that
had pierced Gawain was made of silver, and would kill him.

"I told you to stay away from that man-cub," growled the
Thane, who'd appeared from the darkness of the river bank.

Gawain had one human grandparent. He wasn't a man cub. He was
as strong and fierce as any pure bred werewolf. But the silver dagger
thrown by the Thane was deadly to him. Kalix could feel Gawain dying in
her arms.

Kalix shrieked, then woke up in the alley. The young werewolf
was now so weak and disorientated that it took her a long time to
realise that she had been dreaming. The horror of the dream wouldn't
leave her. She felt herself slipping back into unconsciousness and as
she did so she could again see the Thane killing her lover.

"He's not dead," she tried to say. "He's not dead. He went
away."

But Kalix couldn't remember if Gawain was dead or if he had
just gone away. It was too confusing. The laudanum-fuelled dream still
gripped her senses. She tried to move, but didn't have the energy. As
her mind slowly cleared she realised that dying was not as easy as she
thought it would be. The wolf inside her was very strong. Though her
injuries would certainly kill her, it was proving to be a long and
difficult process. She coughed up more blood, shuddering with pain from
her broken ribs, then fell back into another dark dream.

40

There were hundreds of werewolves in the MacRinnalch Clan and
hundreds more who gave their allegiance to the Thane. The MacRin-nalchs
were not the only werewolf clan currently surviving in Britain, but
they were the strongest, and the oldest. Many of the clan members lived
either in the castle or on the surrounding estates, but some had
settled in other parts of world. There were pockets of MacRinnalchs all
over the globe, in Australia, the USA, Canada, New Zealand; anywhere
the Scots had travelled. Now they were coming home. The Thane's funeral
would draw MacRinnalchs from all over the world. In two days time the
estates would be packed full of werewolves, come to mourn the passing
of the old Thane and celebrate the accession of the new.

It was the responsibility of the Great Council to choose the
new Thane. There were seventeen members of the council: Dulupina,
Verasa, Sarapen, Markus, Thrix, Kalix, Tupan, Dominil, Kurian,
Mar-wanis, Kertal, Lucia, Butix, Delix, Baron MacAllister, Baron
Mac-Gregor and Baron MacPhee.

Dulupina was the mother of the recently deceased Thane. Tupan
was the eldest of the Thane's three younger brothers. Dominil was
Tupan's daughter. Kurian was the youngest brother of the Thane.
Mar-wanis was Kurian's daughter and Kertal his son. Lucia was Verasa's
younger sister. Butix and Delix - Beauty and Delicious - were daughters
of the Thane's middle brother Marwis, who had died with his wife some
years ago. The three noblemen - Baron MacAllister, Baron Mac-Gregor and
Baron MacPhee - were not members of the ruling family, but their clans
had been represented on the Great Council for longer than anyone could
remember.

Of these seventeen, fourteen now sat in the great hall, the
massive vaulted chamber at the heart of Castle MacRinnalch. The three
missing members were Kalix, Beauty, and Delicious. In the next chamber
the Thane lay in state. His burial would take place the day after
tomorrow. The service would be officiated over by the new Thane. The
Thane had to be elected by a majority of the Great Council and would
require nine votes. Though it had most often been the case that
succession passed from the Thane to his eldest son, it was not a
formality. There had been several occasions in the past thousand years
when the council had refused to endorse the heir apparent and chosen
another. On each of these occasions, bloody war between the factions
had been the result.

A great log fire burned at one end of the long stone hall.
Clan banners decorated the walls. Torches cast a flickering light over
the werewolves who sat at the great circular oak table. No servants
attended them; servants were banished from such an important meeting.
The only werewolf in attendance apart from the council members was clan
secretary Rainal, the well-respected administrator whose duties
included the recording of all proceedings of the council. In front of
each werewolf was a crystal decanter of whisky and another of spring
water from the clan's estates. It was midnight, and the meeting had
just begun. Most of the werewolves were in wolf form but some had
retained their human shape. Thrix sat as a human, her long golden hair
gleaming in the torch light, but across the table from her Sarapen sat
huge and black in his werewolf form, eager to get on with business. He
turned his head toward Great Mother Dulupina, a werewolf of such
tremendous age that she rarely left the confines of her chambers.