Martin Millar - Lonely Werewolf Girl (83 page)

Kalix would not be attending. She was still outlawed, and had
not been invited.

231

Kalix lay in her favourite clump of bushes in Kennington Park,
far away from all company. She stared up at the sky. Overhead there
were one hundred and twenty-five billion galaxies. She knew this
because Moonglow had been listening to a science programme on the
radio. Kalix tried to imagine one hundred and twenty-five billion
galaxies. It was such a large number it was confusing to even think
about. The young werewolf lay on the ground, looking at the stars, and
felt confused. She didn't know what to think about anything. The news
of Gawain's affair with Thrix had been too much for her to comprehend.
The weight of it crushed her and left her hardly able to move.

She'd had thoughts of attacking Thrix and killing Gawain.
These thought were briefly comforting but ultimately more upsetting and
they faded away, leaving her desolate. Her anxiety had diminished,
pushed out of the way by depression. It didn't feel like an
improvement. She sipped some laudanum. Soon she'd need to visit the
Merchant, to renew her supply.

Kalix wondered briefly about her family. She'd killed Sarapen.
She didn't know what would happen as a result of that. More trouble,
probably. Misery over Gawain welled up inside her. She started to cry,
even though it was almost unheard of to shed tears while in werewolf
form. She became so upset that she did something she'd never done
before, which was use her great incisor teeth to cut her own arm. After
this, she felt a little better.

As the moon rose high overhead, Kalix changed into her full
wolf form, lifted up her head, and howled at the moon. It was a long
note filled with pain and misery. Anyone who heard it shivered, and
hurried away as fast as they could.

232

Two months ago the Great Council had failed to elect a new
Thane. That would not happen again. As Sarapen was no longer here, the
vote was hardly more than a formality. Had Sarapen still been alive,
the vote would have been closer but in all probability, Verasa would
still have had her way. She'd never wavered from her task of gathering
support for Markus.

Sarapen's body had not been recovered but he was presumed to
be dead. A werewolf could not survive having the Begravar knife thrust
deep into his chest. No healing and no sorcery could reverse the
effects of such a wound, as the Enchantress attested. Kalix was
condemned on all sides for using such a weapon on a fellow werewolf,
even a deadly enemy. The condemnation was mitigated a little when
Verasa spread it around that the knife had been brought there by
Sarapen himself, but there were those who did not believe this, and
felt it was more likely that the criminal Kalix had stolen the knife.
Dominil did not volunteer the information that she had brought it to
the gig, and neither did Thrix.

There were fifteen members of the Great Council in the
chamber, Kalix and Decembrius being absent. The atmosphere was less
hostile than might have been expected. The Mistress of the Werewolves
had treated the defeated Barons generously, welcoming them without any
sign of triumph or bitterness. Most supporters of Sarapen now wished
for a return to more peaceful times. Of the Barons, only the young
MacAllister showed any sign of resentment, and he made efforts to
control it. It was his first council meeting and he didn't want to
appear unstatesmanlike. Only Marwanis was openly hostile.

When Rainal called for nominations for Thane, no one spoke.
Dominil remained silent. Having seen Sarapen defeated, Dominil had lost
the urge to nominate anyone. Verasa turned her eyes on Kurian.

"I nominate Markus MacRinnalch," said Kurian.

Kurian was a brother of the old Thane. He was a suitable
werewolf to propose Markus. His poor health had rendered him
susceptible to persuasion. Besides, he was worried about what the
Mistress of the Werewolves might decide to do to his son Kertal, after
his arrest. Ker-tal himself was planning to vote for Markus with a show
of enthusiasm, in the hope that his plan to hand the castle over to the
Barons might be forgotten.

Clan secretary Rainal counted the raised hands. There were
thirteen: Verasa, Lucia, Markus, Dominil, Thrix, Butix, Delix, Kurian,
Kertal, Dulupina, Tupan, Baron MacGregor and Baron MacPhee. Baron
MacAllister and Marwanis, with no alternative candidate to vote for,
abstained.

"I declare that Markus MacRinnalch is the new Thane," said
Rainal, thus ending the feud.

"Is there any other business?" asked Rainal.

Great Mother Dulupina raised one hand a few inches from the
table.

"The continuing status of Kalix MacRinnalch as outlaw," she
said.

The Mistress of the Werewolves was taken by surprise. The huge
fire in the corner burned brightly but at the mention of Kalix's name
the atmosphere in the council chamber grew noticeably cooler.

233

Malveria triumphed at the Sorceress Livia's 500th birthday
celebration. There was one awkward moment, when she first arrived in
her golden carriage. The great ladies and gentlemen of court were all
dressed very formally and as Malveria stepped out of her carriage with
her garments ripped and bloodstained there was a surprised hush.
Princes Kabachetka turned to Apthalia the Grim to make a crushing
comment. Before she could do so, Beau DeMortalis, Duke of the Black
Castle and fabulous dandy, was distinctly heard to say to his friend
the Molten Lord of Garamlock, "It's a refreshing change of pace." The
awkward silence was broken and the assorted guests murmured in
admiration at Malveria's courageous feat of appearing at Livia's on the
same day as she'd been victorious in battle.

The Fire Queen descended into Livia's underground mansion with
her head held high and from then on everything went her way. Once the
discerning guests were exposed to Malveria's new, undamaged clothes,
her status rose even further. The Enchantress's elegant and beautiful
designs were universally acclaimed. They were far superior to anything
else on display. Malveria walked through the events of that day and the
next with a feeling of blissful superiority. Even when she encountered
Princess Kabachetka, she remained tranquil. The matter of the
Princess's attack on her clothes was not alluded to. Malveria simply
complimented Kabachetka on the beauty of her garments. The Princess,
knowing that her wardrobe did not match up to her rival's, accepted the
compliments with burning eyes and what little grace she could muster.

At the end of each day Malveria would hurry back to Moonglow's
attic to pick up her clothes for the next part of the celebration. She
had placed further spells there to protect her clothes, though she did
not really fear another attack. The battle was already won.

On the third night of the party, Malveria received a message
from First Minister Xakthan, requesting an audience. Malveria was
slightly irked. She summoned Xakthan, and explained to him rather
testily that she had no time to spare for the mundane business of
running a kingdom.

"Day four is still a source of some stress. My hat and shoes
for the great chariot race were damaged by the Princess and I am
praying that the Enchantress has managed to replace them."

"Forgive me, Queen," said Xakthan. "But we have a report from
our intelligence services concerning the attack on your majesty's
wardrobe."

Malveria leaned forward on her throne.

"Proceed."

"Our new agent in Kabachetka's household reports that the
Princess was indeed given information as to the whereabouts of your
clothes. But the informant was not the girl Moonglow. It was a young
man of her acquaintance. He is called Jay."

Malveria slapped her palm on the arm of her jewelled throne.

"Jay! I have met this man! He greatly offended me! So it was
he who betrayed me? Are you sure of this?"

"I am. Apparently he was upset by Moonglow rejecting him and
was thus easily corrupted by Kabachetka's charms."

Xakthan noticed that his words had displeased the Queen.

"Kabachetka's charms being sorcerously enhanced, of course, to
hide her true vile nature," he added, tactfully.

"Of course," muttered Malveria. "No doubt she apprehended him
in some low tavern where the dim light could hide the repulsiveness of
her features. So, it was he and not Moonglow who betrayed me. I am
relieved. It would have pained me to take revenge on Moonglow, because
she has shown me great hospitality."

"You mean you will no longer break her heart?"

The Fire Queen looked surprised.

"What? Of course I will break her heart. That bargain has
already been made. But I will spare her further chastisement. Now I
must depart. The shoes must be ready, and they must be brought from
Italy. You would be surprised at the trouble this can cause in the
human world, with the difficulties involved in the postal services."

"Postal services?" said Xakthan.

"A primitive method for transporting goods. Very often it
leads to chaos."

234

The twins were distressed to learn than Dominil was not coming
back to London.

"What do you mean you're staying at the castle?" said
Delicious. "You can't abandon us now."

"The castle is awful," said Beauty. "All stone walls and
battlements. Who needs it? You don't want to stay here."

"I'm very comfortable here."

"But you'll be bored," said Delicious. She looked towards her
sister for support.

"Didn't she say she was bored when she was here?"

"She did," agreed Beauty. "Really bored. You need something to
do."

"Drink more whisky," suggested Beauty, proffering a bottle to
Dominil. "It'll clear your mind."

Dominil regarded the twins, slightly less coldly than normally.

"It was never intended that I would remain with you
permanently. It was a task of limited duration."

"Well just extend it a bit," said Beauty. "We need you to
organise more gigs and stuff."

"Exactly," agreed Delicious. "There's a lot of stuff to do."

"We need a booking agent. And a website. And internet
publicity. And music downloads. You could do that."

Dominil sipped from the bottle.

"I could. But didn't you spend the whole time I was in London
complaining about my presence and writing hostile songs about me?"

"I don't think so," replied Delicious. "Beauty, do you
remember anything like that?"

Beauty shook her head.

"No, I don't remember that."

"And to be fair," said Delicious. "We never said we liked you.
But you have to come back to London."

Dominil declined. She wasn't going back. She planned to return
to the tranquillity of the castle and complete her translations of
Latin poetry. Beauty and Delicious were annoyed, and went off to
complain to the Mistress of the Werewolves. As they tramped around the
stone corridors of Castle MacRinnalch they were followed by young
werewolves who giggled as they passed, and worked up the courage to ask
for autographs. Yum Yum Sugary Snacks were already acquiring legendary
status among the younger inhabitants of the castle.

The Mistress of the Werewolves was slightly more sympathetic
towards the twins these days. They had, after all, voted for Markus.
However, she was not encouraging. She pointed out that Dominil, a
werewolf of immense intellect, could hardly be expected to spend all
her time looking after Yum Yum Sugary Snacks.

"I'm sure she has weightier things on her mind."

The twins went off, dissatisfied, complaining to each other
about how much they hated Castle MacRinnalch and what a waste of time
it had been coming here. Markus MacRinnalch had thanked them very
graciously for their votes, but what use was that?

"It's okay for pretty boy Markus," said Beauty. "He likes this
place. And he's welcome to it. But we've got things to do. And we need
Dominil."

The twins put their heads together, and plotted ways of
convincing Dominil to return.

The Mistress of the Werewolves had not yet grieved for her
eldest son. Perhaps she would tonight, when she attended the memorial
service for him. Whether or not she felt grief, it was unseemly that
his body had disappeared. She asked Thrix to apply to Malveria for news
of Princess Kabachetka, to find out if it could be recovered. Thrix
chaffed at the thought, though she felt unable to refuse. The moment
the service for Sarapen was over, she was heading back to London and
hoped to put all family matters out of her head for a long time to come.

Verasa was satisfied, almost. Markus was Thane. The
MacRinnalchs could move forward with the rest of the world, and let
the violence of their werewolf heritage pass into history. Her sole
dissatisfaction concerned Kalix. The Great Council had refused to lift
her condemnation. She was still outlawed, required to be brought back
as a captive to the castle for sentencing. Verasa had not been able to
persuade a majority of the council otherwise. The biggest shock had
been that Markus had not cast his vote in favour of pardoning Kalix.
Verasa was very displeased. Perhaps Markus was just making a show of
independence, now he was Thane. He wouldn't want it thought that he was
too much under the influence of his mother. Verasa was prepared for
this. She wouldn't apply too much pressure at first. But in the long
run, she had no intention of allowing Markus to run the clan's affairs
any differently than she would have done herself.

Verasa's musing was interrupted by the re-appearance of Beauty
and Delicious.

"Kalix," said Beauty.

"What about her?"

"She's probably one step away from suicide. You know, with the
Gawain thing," said Delicious.

"You know about the Gawain thing, right? With Thrix?"

Verasa did, though it was not something she wanted to talk
about. She'd been appalled to learn that her eldest daughter had formed
an association with the banished Gawain.