Martin Millar - Lonely Werewolf Girl (30 page)

The Enchantress was impressed. Dominil seemed to know what she
was talking about.

"You really seem to be making quick progress, Dominil."

Thrix asked Dominil if she could bring her anything, food or
drink, but the white werewolf shook her head.

"If you do get the twins back onstage, isn't Verasa worried
that they might become visible to the hunters?"

"That would be for the Mistress of the Werewolves to worry
about," responded Dominil. "However, this brings me to my reason for
visiting you. I have some information. While spending my last night at
the castle I hacked into the computers of the Avenaris Guild."

"You can do that?" said Thrix, surprised.

"Yes."

"What is this?" asked Malveria.

"I broke through their security system to read their computer
files."

There was a slight delay while Thrix explained it to Malveria,
as best she could. Thrix was impressed. She knew that Dominil was the
intelligent one of the family but hadn't been aware that computing at a
high level was among her achievements.

"I discovered that the Guild has no knowledge of Butix and
Delix. Their files on the MacRinnalchs are extensive but very
incomplete. They have no knowledge of me though my father's name is
listed."

"Do they mention me?" asked Malveria, eagerly.

"No."

Malveria looked disappointed,

"They're only interested in werewolves," said Thrix,
reassuringly. She looked at Dominil. "Are you about to tell me they
know about me?"

"They know a little. Not your name or location but there was a
report that an unknown fashion designer in London could be a
MacRinnalch werewolf. Other than that they had no details. I thought I
had better warn you. Furthermore, they have a great deal of information
about Kalix. Up until a few weeks ago they were actively tailing her
and they have a very accurate description of her. They've now lost
contact, but they're aware of her status as daughter of the Thane. They
count it as a very high priority to kill her."

Dominil paused, and sipped her tea.

"The Mistress of the Werewolves asked me to inform you of
anything I learned about Kalix. It is your job, I believe, to protect
her?"

"No," said Thrix. "It isn't."

"I understood from the Mistress that it was."

"My mother suggested it," admitted the Enchantress.

"Then it would seem sensible to do it," said Dominil,
pointedly.

Thrix was not pleased to hear Dominil tell her what was
sensible for her to do but didn't want to get into a discussion about
it. She thanked Dominil for bringing her the information.

"There is one more thing," said Dominil. "The Guild have
formed an association with a man from Croatia who has a great
reputation among the werewolf hunters of Central Europe. His name is
Miku-lanec."

"No hunter will ever trouble me," stated Thrix.

"Yet he might trouble Kalix."

"Yes all right, I'll check on her," responded Thrix, not very
graciously.

The phone rang. Expecting it to be her early morning call from
Ann, Thrix picked it up. It was the Mistress of the Werewolves. Thrix
listened for a few minutes.

"Dominil is here. I'll tell her." She put the phone down.
"Baron MacAllister is dead."

"Already? I was not expecting Sarapen to act so quickly."

The Baron on whom Verasa had worked so assiduously to gain his
vote was now dead. The war for the Thaneship had claimed its first
casualty.

84

Gawain sat for a day and a night in the small cell, thinking.
He had come to the castle looking for Kalix. She was not here, and he
had gained no information as to her whereabouts. He watched from the
small barred window as far below, the castle grounds emptied of
visitors. The werewolves were going home. Dissatisfied, most probably,
with their visit to the ancestral home of the MacRinnalchs. The cell
door opened and Marwanis strode in. Marwanis was the daughter of the
Thane's youngest brother Kurian. Though she was not striking like Kalix
and Thrix, with their dramatic cheekbones and overly wide mouths, she
was beautiful still, and in the opinion of many of the clan, far more
what a MacRinnalch woman should be. Gawain rose to his feet, out of
respect for her.

"Hello Gawain."

"I wasn't expecting to see you," said Gawain, awkwardly.

"No doubt. It's a long time since you've been pleased to see
me, Gawain."

"I didn't say I was not pleased to see you."

Marwanis regarded him for a few moments, as if musing on
something. Gawain felt uncomfortable. He had reason to.

"Why did you come back to the castle?"

"I'm looking for Kalix."

"Still? You've left it rather late, haven't you?"

"I've never stopped looking for Kalix."

"I heard you were working on a croft on the Shetland Isles,"
said Marwanis, with a faint smile. "Did you expect her to be hiding
there in a peat bog?"

Gawain didn't reply. Marwanis seemed to be implying that he
had not looked hard enough. There was some truth in this. For a while
he had lost heart, his spirit defeated by the long search.

"You should have stayed with me," continued Marwanis. "Instead
of transferring your affections to the Thane's daughter. Things would
have gone better for you."

Not knowing how to reply, Gawain remained silent.

"Still, that is all in the past. Do you want to know where
Kalix is?"

"Can you tell me?"

"Not exactly. But I can probably point you in the right
direction."

"Why would you do that?"

Marwanis shrugged.

"I still remember you reasonably fondly. They were enjoyable
nights, before you decided I was not quite good enough for you."

"That's not what I felt at all," protested Gawain. He was
extremely uncomfortable to be confronted by the lover he had abandoned
for Kalix.

"I could see the attraction, I suppose. She is wild. No doubt
I was rather dull in comparison."

"Marwanis, I'm sorry if I hurt you - "

"You could not hurt me, Gawain. There are a hundred
MacRinnalchs more worthy than you. Do you want me to tell you about
Kalix?"

"Yes."

"She's in London. She fled there after she attacked her
father. No one knows exactly where she is but the Enchantress could
probably tell you more. She gave Kalix a charm which hides her. That
should be enough for you to find her, if you really want to."

Marwanis turned to go, then stopped.

"If you need more help, you might try the Young MacDoig."

"The Merchant's son? Why?"

"Because Kalix stinks of laudanum these days. Did you not know
that?"

Marwanis slipped out of the cell, locking the door behind her.
Gawain wondered if she'd been telling the truth. Historically some
werewolves had shown a liking for laudanum but it was a rare
affliction, and very degenerate. Gawain didn't like to think of Kalix
being involved in it. He wasted no time wondering why Marwanis had
chosen to give him information. Kalix was in London. Gawain had
searched there before, two years ago, without success. But on that
occasion, Thrix had sworn she had no knowledge of Kalix at all.

'That's as much as I'm going to learn here,' he thought. 'So
it's time to leave.'

He examined his cell. The window was much too small for him to
squeeze through and the walls were of thick stone. The cell door was
made of layers of hard wood, reinforced by iron bands. It was some
hours till darkness so he sat on the cot in the corner of the cell, and
waited.

Night came and the moon rose. It was two nights after the full
moon. Only pure-blooded MacRinnalch werewolves could now change at
will. With one human grandparent, Gawain should not have been able to
do this. Gawain however, was a werewolf of unusual determination, with
exceptional powers of concentration. He meditated briefly, then let the
werewolf form come over his body. He walked towards the door and
stooped to place his great jaws over the handle. Then he bit so
fiercely that the handle and the wood around it was torn from the door.
Gawain took one step back then kicked with all his strength. The door
flew open sending shards of wood and metal flying out into the
corridor. Gawain leapt out of the cell.

The two guards outside were startled. They had not been
expecting that Gawain would be a werewolf this night. Gawain brushed
them aside before running down the corridor to where the torch light
flickered on a large window. Without breaking stride Gawain leapt at
the window, crashing through the thick glass to fall all the way from
the highest level of the castle into the moat below. He hit the water
with tremendous force but surfaced quickly and struck out for the far
side. He was hauling himself onto the far bank while the guards were
still raising the alarm. By the time they'd rushed down the staircases,
flooding out of the great gate of Castle MacRinnalch with torches in
their hands, Gawain had long since disappeared into the darkness.

In the west wing a very flustered attendant rushed into the
chambers of the Mistress of the Werewolves.

"Mistress, the prisoner has escaped."

"Escaped?" said Verasa. "How?"

"He became werewolf and tore the door from his cell then leapt
for the moat."

"Really?"

Verasa took this calmly enough but Markus, who was with her in
the chamber, was furious. He berated the attendant and instructed him
to gather all available werewolves and hunt for Gawain. The attendant
nodded and left the chamber as quickly as he could, glad to escape from
Markus's wrath.

The Mistress of the Werewolves was not exhibiting much wrath.

"Markus, it's quite all right. I rather expected him to
escape. That's why I put him in that cell, rather than the dungeon. He
is a vigorous young wolf, despite his human blood."

"Why did you want him to escape?"

"Well," said Verasa. "He was no use to me here. What was I
going to do with him? Have him executed?"

"That is what he deserves," answered Markus.

"Perhaps. But Markus, do we really want to be executing
MacRinnalchs in this day and age? We are trying to modernise the clan,
after all."

"What if he finds Kalix?"

"Then he'll lead us to her. Thrix claims not to know where
Kalix lives. I'm not sure if she's being honest. It's disturbing that
we still don't know where Kalix is. And if Gawain does find her, then
he'll try to protect her from Sarapen, which would be no bad thing."

Markus did not totally approve of this. He had never liked
Gawain.

"I was not aware that he could transform into a werewolf at
will, on any night."

"Weren't you? Gawain comes from a very strong lineage. His
great-great-grandfather brought back the Begravar knife from
Mesopotamia when he went overseas with the Black Douglas. And he was
one of the MacRinnalchs who helped win the day for Robert the Bruce at
Ban-nockburn. As of course was your own great-great-grandfather."

The Mistress of the Werewolves might not have been so calm had
she been aware of the phone call Marwanis made to Sarapen a short time
later.

"I gave Gawain the information about Kalix, as you wished. He
then managed to escape."

"Already?" Sarapen sounded pleased. This was better than he
had expected. Even if Decembrius failed to locate Kalix, Gawain might
well lead them to her. He congratulated Marwanis on her work. Marwanis
took his praise calmly, though she glowed inside. These days, she found
herself increasingly attracted to her cousin Sarapen.

Verasa's calm was soon to be shattered. A messenger arrived
with news from the MacAllister keep.

"The Baron is dead."

"What!" yelled Markus, and leapt to his feet.

Verasa's face was grim.

"Tell us what happened," she said, though she already
knew in her bones who was responsible for the death.

85

Pete was extremely surprised to find himself being roused from
his bed at nine o'clock in the morning. Usually he slept until noon. He
was even more surprised to find that the person responsible for ringing
the doorbell in such a remorseless manner was one of the most beautiful
women he had ever seen, with hair so long and white that he wondered if
it could possibly be real.

"Are you Pete, who plays guitar?"

"Eh… yes…"

"Good. Beauty and Delicious are re-forming their band. They
again require your services. Turn up for rehearsal at three o'clock
tomorrow afternoon at the Huge Sound studio in Leyton Street. Bring
your guitar, do not be late and do not be intoxicated. Is there
anything else you need to know?"

"Beauty and Delicious? I thought they'd given up."

"They have reactivated their career."

Dominil looked deeply into Pete's eyes. He flinched under
the intensity of her stare.

"Can I count on you to be there?"

Pete nodded. He'd planned to spend tomorrow handing out fliers
to earn a little money, but whoever this woman was, she didn't seem
like someone he wanted to argue with.

Dominil turned on her heel and departed, her long black coat
swaying gently round her ankles. Having repeated this scene at various
flats around Camden, she walked calmly through the cold drizzle back to
the twins' house. The sisters were as surprised as Pete to find
themselves roused so early but Dominil brushed aside their protests.

"I've made contact with all the musicians you wanted to play
with again. They will be there tomorrow at three."

The sisters were surprised.

"Even Adam?"

Adam had been their last drummer. He'd sworn never to speak to
them again after they'd blamed him, quite unfairly, for ruining their
last gig. While his timing on the night may not have been perfect,
their own intake of red wine and vicodin had contributed far more to
the general shambles.

"He was reluctant. I persuaded him."