Martin Millar - Lonely Werewolf Girl (32 page)

"I didn't know you could do that in daylight," said Ann.

"Sorry if I startled you."

Ann shrugged. Having learned about a year ago that she was
working for a werewolf, a werewolf with magical powers at that, she was
beyond being much surprised at anything. Which was just as well, for at
that moment Malveria materialised in the room.

"Did I hear you call?" she asked, sweetly, before noticing
there was something strange about Thrix's aura.

"You have been a werewolf? In daylight? My goodness Thrix,
this is very exceptional anger. Has another of your models been taken
to the substance abuse clinic?"

"No."

"Ah," Malveria nodded sagely. "Still upset over the romantic
dinner which went so sadly wrong."

"The dinner went wrong?" said Ann.

"Terribly wrong," replied the Fire Queen. "Poor Thrix was
quite desolate when her man abandoned her at the earliest opportunity."

"He abandoned you?" said Ann.

"He did not abandon me! I asked for a cab home."

"Really, it is too bad," said Malveria. "But perhaps this
Donald was not the right man. You know the Enchantress is very hard to
please. I have searched my realm for a suitable - "

"Could we get back to the topic in hand here!" demanded Thrix,
loudly. "I did not howl as a werewolf because my date went disast… eh…
not that well. I'm annoyed because my designs have been stolen!"

"Ah," said the Fire Queen. "Now I understand. Of course, when
it is Malveria who is suffering such cruel indignities there is no
great crisis but now it happens to you, you begin to see the full
horror of the sufferings."

"When I find out who's responsible I'll make them suffer!"
cried Thrix.

Ann, who had kept a calmer head in the midst of the crisis,
picked up the magazine.

"But isn't this a step forward?"

"What? How?"

"Well, before we only knew of the espionage because the Fire
Queen was turning up at events and finding that her clothes were
already there. But now we have a picture of one of our outfits in a
magazine. So now we should know who's behind the whole thing."

"Of course," cried Thrix, grabbing the magazine. "I was too
upset by the picture to even read the caption. Who's the designer?"

She scanned the page, then frowned deeply.

"It would be."

The dress had been designed, or so the magazine claimed, by
Alan Zatek. Zatek, whose house occupied a place in the fashion world
not dissimilar to Thrix Fashions, was one of her main rivals.

"Alan Zatek will be showing his new collection in Milan next
season," read the Enchantress. "Will he now? Not if I blast him off the
face of the earth, he won't."

"He very much deserves to be blasted," agreed the Fire Queen.
"Not least because when I wore a pair of trousers designed by him my
hips looked bulky, for which I will never forgive him. But consider.
Should we not make more investigations before we take action against
him?"

Thrix could see no reason not to hurry over to Alan Zatek's
fashion house and launch an attack but Malveria, more used to the art
of war, urged caution.

"It does not do to fly at your enemy before you have a clear
idea of his strength. This Alan Zatek is most obviously not a standard
human designer. If he were, he would not be sending clothes to the vile
Princess Kabachetka. He must be a man with connections to the other
realms. Perhaps he does not realise your power, and doesn't know the
risks he takes. But it is also possible that he does. He may be aware
of all your sorcery, and all your werewolfness, and still believe he
has enough strength to defeat you. There are other sorcerers in this
world, some of them not to be taken lightly."

After this speech by Malveria, Thrix nodded her head.

"You're right Malveria. Leaping in blindly would be foolish. I
should find out more about Zatek."

"And we still don't know who the spy is in our own office,"
said Ann. "Except it's not me."

"It better not be," said Thrix. "I rely on you too much to
lose you. Malveria, have you learned anything in your realm?"

"I have indeed. Due to her monstrous appetites Princess
Kabachetka has put on several pounds in the past month and is obliged
to have her clothes secretly adjusted."

"Malveria!"

"That is not all. The adjuster of the clothes is an elemental
tailor of some skill who has on occasion visited my palace. Of course,
this has been to tighten clothes after I lost weight following my
exercise programme last winter when I astonished my thousands of
devotees by turning up for the solstice sacrifice looking even more
fabulously slender than before. The daughter of my ambassador to the
Empress Asaratanti has learned from this tailor that the Princess has
recently been transporting clothes between the dimensions by way of a
large man who wears a strange and unappealing hat. This man is known as
the Merchant and has a talisman which allows him to contact our realms."

Thrix was listening intently.

"The Merchant? MacDoig!"

"You know him?"

"I do. He's a dealer in the sort of goods you can't get
anywhere else. This is interesting news Malveria. Though it still
doesn't tell us who the spy is."

Thrix and Ann had gone through every employees personnel file
without coming across anything suspicious. Really, they had not much
idea what they might be looking for. Ann had suggested bringing in an
investigator but Thrix was reluctant to have any human detective
closely examining her business.

"Are there no werewolf detectives?" enquired Malveria.

"No. Well yes, actually. There is a MacRinnalch who dabbles in
investigation I believe, but that would be too close to my family. I
don't want my mother finding out any more of my private business."

"I have a suggestion," said the Fire Queen. "Permit me to take
a stealthy look at Zatek's offices. Perhaps there I will find a clue to
the culprit."

The Enchantress thought that was a good idea. There was little
chance of so strong a being as the Fire Queen coming to any harm, no
matter what secret power Alan Zatek may have.

Ann went off to bring them both coffee. Thrix looked
questioningly at Malveria.

"When did you buy a pair of trousers made by Zatek?"

"Years ago. Do not be insulted. It was before I met you, and
they were of a very inferior cut. I gave them away to one of my
ladies-in-waiting who was equipped with more robust hips than I.
Incidentally, could you provide me with several pots of slime green
nail varnish?"

Thrix was alarmed. Slime green was a particularly virulent
shade. Having succeeded in getting Malveria into elegant attire and
makeup, she feared that the Fire Queen may be slipping back into her
old ways.

"Do not worry," said Malveria, sensing Thrix's thoughts. "It
is not for me, it's for Agrivex. My young almost-adopted niece has
spent five days sulking in her room and I have finally learned that
this is because she hates all her nail varnish. And while I am
determined not to give in to all of young Vex's whims and fancies, I
must admit I am again impressed by her spirit. Five days is a long time
to sulk in one's room, and perhaps deserves new nail varnish."

The Fire Queen looked at her own nails and frowned.

"I'll make you an appointment," said the Enchantress. "And
I'll ask Ann to bring us some slime green for Agrivex."

"Would seventeen be a normal age for intense sulking?" asked
the Fire Queen.

"Possibly. Depends on the seventeen year old. I take it
Agrivex is not full of serious thoughts?"

Malveria shook her head.

"No serious thought has ever approached her. She is a…"
Malveria struggled to find the right word.

"An airhead?" suggested Thrix.

"Exactly!" The Fire Queen was pleased. "That is the perfect
expression. Her head is full of air. But this is not so bad. While she
will plague me to death for nail varnish and clothes, she will never
desire to usurp the throne. Relatives are so bad at that, Enchantress.
Sometimes I wonder why we ever have relatives in the first place."

"I sometimes wonder that too," agreed the Enchantress.

89

Neither Gregor nor Decembrius, agents of Markus and Sarapen,
had so far found any trace of Kalix. Decembrius however, had powers of
finding which went beyond the normal acute senses of a werewolf. While
crossing the city he became aware of Dominil's presence. He located
her, trailed her discreetly to the twins' house, then reported this to
Sarapen.

Thrix finally made the effort to visit her young sister. Short
of time, and with other matters to occupy her, Thrix made the journey
unwillingly. Kalix was in the flat on her own when the Enchantress
arrived.

Both were unsmiling as they faced each other on the stairs.
Thrix noticed that Kalix was looking a good deal better than the last
time she'd seen her. She was clean. Her hair was washed, something
which Thrix could hardly remember having seen since Kalix was a child.
She'd forgotten how long and thick it was. She almost complimented
Kalix on it, but held back.

"What do you want?" asked Kalix.

"You have your new pendant?"

"Yes," muttered Kalix, looking at the floor.

"You have the Fire Queen to thank more than me. I'm here
because our mother wanted me to check on your safety."

Kalix's lip curled.

"Don't look at me like that," said Thrix, sharply. "Without me
you wouldn't have made it this far. Really Kalix, you're so ungrateful.
Is it any wonder that you've ended up without a friend in the world?"

Kalix didn't reply. She turned on her heel and disappeared up
the stairs. Thrix followed her, uninvited. Kalix had retreated into the
small room which Daniel and Moonglow had cleared for her. She had a
single bed, a CD player, and a lamp. Her bag lay beside the bed. Piled
on a chair were some clothes they'd given her from their own wardrobes.
Most of these did not fit but next weekend they intended to visit the
local charity shops and see what they could find.

Thrix glanced around the small, bare room, undecorated save
for three pictures of the Runaways which Moonglow had printed for
Kalix. The Enchantress repressed a shudder at the sight of the clothes,
student cast-offs which she would rather have died than been forced to
wear.

"Well I suppose it's comfortable enough."

"I didn't invite you in," said Kalix. "What do you want?"

"Nothing. But mother wants me to protect you."

"I don't need your protection."

Thrix advanced a pace or two.

"Kalix, believe me, I'd rather not be here. So just listen,
and spare me your comments. Have you heard any news of the Great
Council?"

Kalix shook her head.

"You know the Thane died?"

Kalix did know. She stared at the wall.

"Have you nothing to say? He was our father, after all."

"I wish he'd died sooner," said Kalix.

It was a shock to hear these words, though Thrix herself
couldn't pretend to be full of grief over their father's death. She'd
spent the last fifty years trying to avoid him, and hadn't shed a tear
at the funeral.

"The Great Council couldn't agree on a new Thane."

"I thought it would be Sarapen."

"So did everyone else except our mother. But he hasn't been
elected yet. There was a split between Sarapen and Markus. Mother is
backing Markus and you can imagine how Sarapen has taken that. Now he
wants to kill you to get your vote."

Kalix appeared unconcerned.

"He always wanted to kill me."

"Well now he really intends to do it. I doubt you'd be
interested in all the details of the vote but believe me, Sarapen
regards it as vital to his interests that you die, and quickly. So I'm
here to warn you. Don't take the pendant off under any circumstances.
And stay here, it's the safest place for you."

"I'm going to leave when I feel better," said Kalix, defiantly.

"Kalix you're a fool. I've no time for your petulance. God
knows why these humans want to look after you but it seems they do and
you ought to realise when you're well off. If you go wandering off
again I'm not going to waste my time running after you."

Thrix stopped. This wasn't going the way she had intended. She
hadn't meant to come here and insult Kalix. It was difficult. The
girl's sulky, hostile demeanour had always annoyed her. She tried to
inject some sisterly concern into her voice.

"Kalix. You really should stay. You're better off here than
anywhere else. The pendant will conceal you and I'll add my sorcery to
it." Thrix handed Kalix a card. "Here are my phone numbers. Let me know
if you need anything."

Thrix sniffed the air.

"Are you still taking laudanum?"

Kalix looked fixedly at the wall.

"It'll kill you."

They were interrupted by the arrival of Daniel and Moonglow
who made their way noisily up the stairs and collapsed with exaggerated
exhaustion on the couch.

"Poetry of the Renaissance will kill me, I'm sure of it," said
Daniel. "Hey, Kalix, are you in?"

Thrix stepped out of Kalix's room. In her immaculate clothes
she looked startlingly out of place in their scruffy flat. Daniel and
Moon-glow were quite perturbed, given the hostility she'd displayed
towards them the last time they met.

"I came to check on my sister," said Thrix, awkwardly. "Thank
you for giving her somewhere to live."

The two students looked at her nervously. The Enchantress did
not know what to say to make the situation less tense. She was unversed
in the ways of students. She could deal with crazy models but when it
came to other sorts of teenagers, she was on unsteady ground.

"Do you need anything?"

"Like what?" said Daniel.

"Like a better haircut," retorted Thrix, annoyed at his tone.
"Or money for looking after Kalix."