Martin Millar - Lonely Werewolf Girl (73 page)

A long way off, in the west of the city, Mr Carmichael sat
with the other members of the board of the Avenaris Guild, finalising
their plans for attacking the gig. They had already checked the venue,
examining the upstairs room where the bands played. The Guild planned
to wait till Yum Yum Sugary Snacks had finished their set and people
were leaving, then attack. If the hunters moved quickly it should be
possible to trap the werewolves upstairs and destroy them all in a hail
of silver bullets.

196

Markus spent his days either on the walls, or planning the
defence of Castle MacRinnalch with Verasa, Rainal, and Eskandor. He
spent his nights with Beatrice MacRinnalch, the assistant curator of
the castle relics. Verasa didn't object to Markus associating with her.
She was an intelligent and respectable young werewolf, and her son
needed some form of relaxation.

The Mistress of the Werewolves was pleased with her son's
conduct since arriving back at the castle, but she was worried by his
most recent suggestion. Markus proposed that, rather than wait for
Sarapen to arrive in Scotland, the defenders should make a pre-emptive
sally against the Barons. It was a bold plan, and not without its
merits. The Barons wouldn't be expecting an attack. Furthermore, if it
were done before the full moon, many of their followers would not be
able to transform into their werewolf shape.

"Why wait?" asked Markus. "We're certain that Sarapen will
fight in London tomorrow. The next day he'll be here. Let's deal them a
blow before he arrives."

Rainal was against it.

"I'm not sure we'd take them by surprise. Baron MacGregor
leads their forces and he's an experienced werewolf. He'd pull his
troops back the moment we appeared. We might make some gains but
nothing substantial. If we suffered losses we'd be weaker when Sarapen
arrives."

The Barons now completely encircled the castle. The smoke from
their campfires could be seen from the battlements. Markus was not so
convinced of the Baron's qualities as a leader.

"MacGregor is the senior Baron on the field but are the others
really following him?"

Again, it was a reasonable point. There were four factions
outside the castle walls, and none of them could claim to be their
natural leader. Baron Douglas MacAllister was far too young. Baron
MacPhee was well respected but he was not on the field, and had sent
his son Euan, who was not a noted warrior. No Baron's troops would
follow the lower ranked Red Ruraich MacAndris. Which left Baron
MacGregor. He was the senior Baron present, and nominal leader in
Sarapen's absence, but he had arrived late, and was not thought to be
such a willing participant.

The Mistress of the Werewolves came out against the plan. She
still believed that they could defend the castle against assault and
was unwilling to risk sending Markus into battle. That night Markus
complained to Beatrice about his mother's lack of faith in him. He
chafed against her restraints.

"I'm captain of the castle guard," he told her. "I should be
leading the defence. It's time my mother let me have my way."

Beatrice sympathised, although she was secretly relieved that
Markus was not about to lead a dangerous mission outside the castle
walls. Like many before her, Beatrice was overwhelmed by Markus's
beauty, and already loved him dearly.

197

The day before the gig was uncomfortable for Kalix. She
dreamed of Gawain and woke up feeling warm and content but as the dream
faded, her misery returned. She kept picturing him with someone else,
and tormenting herself with thoughts of who it might be. She had a wild
notion of hunting Gawain and his lover down and killing them both.

"No," muttered Kalix. "I won't do that. I'll kill myself."

It was momentarily comforting to think how sorry Gawain would
be when she killed herself. But probably he wouldn't be sorry for long.
He'd have his new love to comfort him.

Dominil didn't need any more help and Kalix couldn't find
anything else to take her mind off her unhappiness. She watched her
Sab-rina the Teenage Witch DVD but she'd already seen it so many times
it failed to distract her. She felt angry at the TV stations for not
showing more new episodes. Since getting cable Kalix had learned that
just because a channel showed her favourite programmes regularly it
didn't always mean they were new. When the afternoon episode of
Sab-rina turned out to be repeat which she'd already seen several
times, Kalix felt tempted to bite the television.

The atmosphere in the house was again strained. Moonglow was
still unhappy. Worse, she was in a bad mood with Daniel, and they had
an argument about the dirty dishes in the kitchen. This was unusual.
They'd never argued about the dishes before. Now Moon-glow seemed to be
implying that Daniel had carelessly neglected his share of cleaning due
to seeing too much of Alicia.

"Who did all the dishes when you were spending time with
Markus?" retorted Daniel, which made the argument worse. Kalix didn't
like to be around when Daniel and Moonglow were arguing. It made her
anxious. She grabbed her laudanum, went to the kitchen, took a carton
of cheap wine from a cupboard, and hurried out of the house.

Outside it was snowing. Kalix headed towards Kennington Park,
looking for somewhere private. She made for an isolated clump of bushes
and felt a little more secure as she crawled inside. She began to
breath a little more easily. Finally noticing the cold, she transformed
into her werewolf shape, then used her claws to rip off the top of the
wine carton. It didn't take long for the wine to affect her. Mixed with
the laudanum it quickly began to dull her senses.

Kalix put one paw to her neck. There seemed to something
missing. What was it? She remembered she'd taken her pendant off to
have a bath, and hadn't put it on again. She was outside without her
protection, and she was in werewolf shape. Very dangerous. Kalix
shrugged. She didn't care. If anyone was looking for her, let them find
her.

198

The day before the gig was also
the day before the start of the Sorceress Livia's 500th birthday
celebration. Malveria's moods swung wildly between calm, despair, and
elation. She felt calm while planning her five-day campaign of
aggressive fashion warfare. Directing her dressers, handmaidens, and
make-up artists was not unlike planning a military campaign, and she
was good at this. As each stage of her plan was finalised, Malveria
felt a great surge of happiness. She simply couldn't wait to walk into
Livia's celebration wearing Thrix's wonderful clothes.

There were also moments of despair. Her final batch of shoes
had not yet arrived from Italy. The Enchantress was even now on the
phone, threatening the postal services with dire retribution if they
didn't come up with the goods. No matter how impossible the odds
against her had been as she fought to gain control of the kingdom,
Malveria had never given way to despair. Now, faced with the prospect
of wearing her astonishing new blue chiffon evening dress with anything
other than the perfect high heeled leather sandals Thrix had designed
for her, the Queen felt she could just sit down and cry. Finally she
could stand it no longer. She teleported to the premises of Thrix
Fashions, erupting into the Enchantress's office in a blur of flames,
jasmine and burning tears.

"I must have my new shoes!" she screamed, and collapsed
sobbing on the couch.

"They're here," said Thrix. "I dragged them out of the sorting
office with sorcery - "

Malveria wasn't listening. Having spotted the shoes in
question resting beside Thrix's desk she'd rushed towards them and was
feverishly tearing open the box. Thrix took Malveria firmly by the
shoulder and led her back to the couch.

"I must try on the shoes immediately," gasped the Queen.

"Malveria," said Thrix sternly, looking her in the eyes.
"You're not in a fit state to try on shoes. You'll set them on fire.
Calm down."

"Please!" wailed the Fire Queen, and made another move towards
the shoes. Thrix flung herself in the way.

"As your fashion designer I order you to sit on the couch till
you cool down," cried Thrix, even more sternly. "It's for your own
good."

Malveria reluctantly did as she was told. The flames that
flickered around her gradually began to fade. Thrix snapped her
fingers, causing a glass of water and a glass of wine to float to her
side. She helped Malveria sip from both. Malveria took some deep
breaths.

"Thank you dearest Enchantress. The thought of my new shoes
not arriving in time quite undermined my famous self-control. Are they
really all here?"

"Yes, all of them."

Thrix had been up the whole night putting the finishing
touches to the Fire Queen's new collection of handbags. In themselves
the bags were a collection worthy of a page in a fashion magazine. The
Fire Queen, who loved a good handbag, would derive a great deal of
pleasure from them, but not until she'd spent some hours revelling in
her new footwear. The Enchantress sat on the couch, briefly watched as
Malveria tried on her shoes, then drifted off to sleep, exhausted by
her endeavours.

199

Gawain was patrolling, as he did every night. Though he had no
hope of ever being re-united with Kalix, he was still protecting her.
During the past week Gawain had noticed several unfamiliar werewolves
in the South London Streets. He didn't know about the price Sarapen had
put on Kalix's head but he sensed that she was in more danger than
ever. He patrolled for as long as he could, a lonely figure in the
snow, prowling through gardens, occasionally taking to the rooftops,
always ready to intercept anyone who might be a threat to Kalix.

As Gawain hurried past Kennington Park, he halted, and looked
up sharply. He was so used to straining his senses for the slightest
sign of danger that it was a shock to be suddenly aware of Kalix's
presence. She was nearby, in werewolf form, and not making any attempt
to hide. The moment he sensed her Gawain knew she was in trouble.

It was not yet the full moon. Gawain's werewolf shape would
not come on naturally. Despite the urgency of the situation, he was
forced to concentrate for a few moments to bring on the change. As soon
as he transformed he charged through the park towards the bushes in the
distance. Snow was falling, hindering visibility. Gawain didn't see his
quarry till he was almost upon them. Four werewolves, all still in
human shape, also heading towards the bushes. Gawain knew that Kalix
was there. He snarled. The four men turned to face him.

"Back off," said one of the men. "You're not getting a share."

"A share?"

"Of the reward."

The man looked at his companions.

"Thinks he can just come here late and pick up five gold
nobles. Maybe he thinks he's special because he can change without the
moon?"

As he spoke the man transformed into a werewolf. One of his
companions did the same. Gawain realised that these werewolves were not
from Sarapen's entourage. They weren't seeking Kalix as part of the
feud over the Thaneship. They weren't trying to drag Kalix home to face
the Great Council. They were just vagabond werewolves, come here to
kill her and pick up a reward. It filled him with fury. He leapt on the
largest werewolf, dragging him down to the snow-covered ground. There
was snarling and howling as Gawain engaged with his four opponents. The
battle was brief. Gawain was a warrior, from a line of warriors. His
opponents couldn't cope with his fighting skills. Five gold nobles was
a fine reward but not worth losing their lives over. Within minutes the
two who were unable to make the werewolf change had fled. Their
werewolf companions followed shortly after, limping away from the
scene, blood seeping from their wounds.

As soon as they were out of sight Gawain rushed into the
bushes. He was frantic about Kalix. He knew she would never ignore a
fight. It was so unlike her he feared she might already be dead.

He found her unconscious, an empty carton of wine by her side,
an open bottle of laudanum still clutched in her paw. Gawain halted,
mopped some blood and sweat from his brow, and smiled, rather grimly.
This, he reflected, was very like Kalix. He put the cap back on the
bottle of laudanum, and placed it carefully in his pocket. Then he
picked her up in his arms, and took her out of the bushes. As they
emerged into the park, Kalix woke up.

"What's happening?" she murmured.

"Werewolves hunting you," said Gawain. "We have to leave."

"Okay," said Kalix. Her eyelids drooped.

"I love you," said Gawain.

Kalix opened her eyes.

"I love you," she said, then threw up over him. Gawain
gallantly ignored it. He tenderly wiped her mouth, and
carried her out of the park.

200

It was past midnight. The twins were downstairs, trying on
clothes, and making a lot of noise. Dominil was both bored and
irritated by their behaviour. Her translation of Tibullus was spread
out before her but she was bored with that as well. Dominil hadn't been
bored since arriving in London. Now her work was almost done, it was
creeping up on her again.

Tomorrow would not be boring, of course. Yum Yum Sugary Snacks
would be onstage, and Sarapen would be in Camden. It occurred to
Dominil that she could die. Dominil didn't feel alarmed at the
prospect, but it made her dissatisfied. If she was about to die, she
didn't want to spend her last night on earth listening to Beauty and
Delicious screaming about which pair of shades to wear onstage. She
looked around for something to do. The van to take the musicians to the
venue was booked. The sampling software had been upgraded. All
instruments and equipment had been checked. She'd made out the set list
and the guest list. There was nothing left to do and no more
instructions to give.