The Anxiety of Kalix the Werewolf (73 page)

How did I end up fighting her? he wondered. She's the only MacRinnalch I really like.

Halfway up the spiral staircase, he paused. He thought he'd heard a footfall behind him. He listened for a few moments then continued. He was sure he heard it again, but carried on till he reached the top. Once in the roof garden, he walked out into plain view, standing beside the large bushes that glowed with a gentle yellow flame as they swayed in the hot breeze that blew from the slopes of the Eternal Volcano.

There was no further sound but Sarapen knew he'd been followed. He waited a moment then turned abruptly to find two Fire Elementals in black clothing emerging from the staircase. Each held a long dagger. Seeing that they were discovered, they sprinted toward him. Sarapen changed in an instant into his huge werewolf form. He opened his great jaws and roared. As a werewolf, Sarapen was a terrifying figure. He was well over six feet tall, huge, broad and muscular, with a cruel cast to his face, long sharp fangs and fearsome talons. His pelt was dark and shaggy and his black and yellow eyes blazed with anger.

His assailants paused, as if unprepared for the transformation. Sarapen had rarely changed in public since arriving in the land of the Hainusta. Vey few elementals had seen him in his werewolf shape. They advanced, their knives raised, but by now Sarapen was charging toward them. He was too quick for his opponents. Though he was unarmed, Sarapen had no trouble in grabbing the wrist of the nearest elemental, pulling him toward him then swinging his body with great force into the other assassin. They collided with each other and in the same instant Sarapen was upon the first of them, fastening his jaws to his neck in a terrible bite that almost decapitated him. He fell to the ground. The second assailant lost his nerve and turned to flee. Again, Sarapen was too quick. Before he had gone three steps, Sarapen had caught up with him and slashed at the back of his neck with his talons. The assassin fell down dead in an instant.
The whole affair had lasted for only seconds. Sarapen had killed the two trained assassins with one bite and one swipe of his claws.

Sarapen looked down at the bodies. He wondered who had sent them. The Empress? One of his rivals at court? For a moment Sarapen was undecided as to what he should do next. Remain in the palace? Flee into the desert? He knew he only survived here because of the Empress's sorcerous protection. In the desert he would quickly die.

I'll take my chance with the assassins, he thought. I hope Dominil's making some progress, because I'm not going to be able to survive for long with the palace against me, and the Empress.

CHAPTER 140

Kalix didn't feel comfortable in Thrix's apartment but was determined to stay as long as she could, learning about their plans. When Thrix left the room, Kalix told Dominil that she'd been concentrating on becoming fitter.

“I've been running and exercising. I got inspired after I met Joan Jett.”

Dominil knew of Kalix's liking for the Runaways. “You met Joan Jett? How did that happen?”

“She bumped into me. She was jogging on the Embankment. I think it was her. It looked like her. So I was inspired to go running. I feel better already.”

It was true. Kalix had been exercising for only a short while but it seemed to have reinvigorated her natural werewolf vitality. She felt stronger than she could remember.

“The rapid improvement is probably psychosomatic,” said Dominil.

Kalix didn't know what that meant, so she nodded in agreement.

“And I'm not feeling so bad about Manny.” Kalix chewed her lip. “I still feel quite bad. I wish I hadn't ruined everything.”

“You will have very little time to hide the flower in the Guild headquarters,” said Dominil, showing no interest in Kalix's failed relationship with Manny. Kalix felt embarrassed, and regretted mentioning it. As Thrix returned to the room the buzzer sounded at the door.

“It's Beauty,” came a voice.

“And Delicious.”

Thrix pressed the button to let them in. “What can they want? Dominil, did you ask them to come here?”

“No.”

The twins arrived noisily.

“Hi, Thrix, this is a big place; you must be richer than we thought. Beauty, have we been here before?”

“I can't remember. Hi, Kalix.”

The twins saw Dominil, and came to a halt.

“Hello, Dominil,” said Beauty. She shuffled her feet uncomfortably. “We were sort of hoping you'd be here. The Mistress of the Werewolves said you might be.”

Delicious looked at Dominil and seemed about to say something. She changed her mind, and turned toward her sister. “Shouldn't someone be welcoming us with some whisky?”

“You'd have thought so,” agreed Beauty. “It is traditional.”

“You'd have thought it would be here by now.”

“You've only been here for thirty seconds,” said Thrix. She picked up her bottle and poured drinks for the twins.

Beauty looked toward Dominil and again seemed to be on the verge of saying something, before thinking better of it.

“We were at our hairdresser. It's not far from here.”

The twins' pink and blue hair was looking very bright, and even more voluminous than usual. They wore shiny black leather biker's jackets and torn jeans.

“We're busy,” said Dominil. “From the way you keep looking at me I presume you have something to say. If you want to insult me again kindly get it over with so I can get back to work.”

“We didn't come here to insult you!” protested Beauty. “You're always jumping to conclusions.”

“Harsh conclusions with no basis in reality,” said Delicious.

“It's probably why people keep insulting you. We came here to apologize. I'm sorry we threw beer at you.”

“And threw other stuff as well,” said Delicious. “Because, you know, you've probably done quite well for us . . .”

“As best as you could anyway . . .”

“Given your hostile nature . . .”

“And other personality problems . . .”

“And we're sorry we wrote a song called ‘Selfish Inconsiderate Albino Werewolf Bitch.' We probably shouldn't have done that.”

“Although it is a really good song. Do you mind if we add it to the set?”

“Not at all,” said Dominil. “Though I'm not an albino. I'm leucistic.”

“Is that even a word? Well, anyway, now that's out of the way, we've come to offer our help.”

Delicious turned to Thrix. “We'll join in the attack.”

Thrix, amused by the twins' attempt at apologizing, raised her eyebrows. “You want to join the attack?”

“Well, we don't exactly want to,” admitted Beauty. “But we will. We talked to the Mistress of the Werewolves. She said the council was making a fuss about everything. We know what these people are like. They'll probably just let you down. We'll come along if you need us.”

Thrix felt an unusual burst of clan pride, something she hadn't experienced for a while. Noticing that the twins had already finished their drinks, Thrix refilled their glasses.

“I appreciate the offer,” she said. “But when we discussed the attack, we didn't include you because we, uh . . . I don't suppose we thought you'd be eager to participate.”

“We're not,” admitted Delicious. “But we will.”

Thrix knew perfectly well that the twins, though strong like any MacRinnalch, were neither keen nor experienced fighters. She smiled at them. “Thank you for offering. I wish all the clan were as ready to help. But we've made a plan of attack for twenty werewolves, and we have all the positions filled. It would be difficult to fit you in now.”

“That's OK,” said Beauty.

“We'd probably be no help anyway,” said Delicious.

“But we'll still come if you need us,” said Beauty. She looked at her glass, which was empty again. “Isn't it normal to give visiting clan members some token of hospitality?”

Thrix shook her head, and refilled the sisters' glasses.

“I should have brought some extra bottles down from Scotland. Though it's not easy to get my mother to open the storeroom.”

The twins' arrival, their clumsy apology and the clan whisky had all combined to ease the werewolves' mood. Kalix and Thrix managed to forget their mutual antipathy for a little while, and Dominil seemed a degree less frozen. They sat at Thrix's table, sipping their drinks, gossiping about affairs at the castle, the twins' adventures in Camden and whatever else came to mind, and managed to forget for a little while about the upcoming attack on the Guild, from which none of them felt likely to return.

CHAPTER 141

Beauty and Delicious eventually made their way home in a taxi, as did Dominil. Kalix took a night bus. It was well into the early hours of the morning and Thrix was on the point of retiring when the Fire Queen appeared at her door.

“I apologize for the lateness of my visit,” she said as she swept into the apartment. “One is simply run off one's feet at the palace. I had to escape. Another minute discussing drainage problems with the ministerial subcommittee and I really would have lost my mind.”

Thrix was puzzled. “That doesn't sound like the sort of thing you'd be involved in. Can't the committee sort it out themselves?”

“Drainage is a serious matter around the palace,” explained Malveria. “We have so little surface water that any unexpected appearance causes panic among the citizens. A spring has recently burst forth and it must be attended to.”

The Fire Queen looked around. Her powers of detecting auras were extremely acute, and she could see traces of Thrix's previous visitors.

“Why Thrix, you have had many guests. Dominil, Kalix and the colorful twins. Have you had a girls' night? Should I be jealous I was not invited? Or was it for werewolves only?”

“It wasn't planned. I was discussing our attack with Dominil and the others just appeared.”

“Is your attack imminent?”

“Yes.”

“I see.”

The Fire Queen moved some clothes from the couch, clearing a space to sit. “Is it as you suspected? The Guild's headquarters is a ‘House That Can't Be Found'?”

“Yes.”

“It's a bad place to attack,” said the Fire Queen. “I advise against it.”

“Why?”

“You are unlikely to be able to use your sorcery. The house will prevent it. You should wait for a better opportunity.”

“We don't know for sure if I'll be unable to use sorcery. Anyway, I've fought without it before.”

“Not in the home of your enemies.”

“There will be twenty werewolves. We're going to take them by surprise and slaughter them.”

“Do you really believe that?”

Thrix hesitated. “Maybe.”

“I don't want you to go to this place!” said the Fire Queen, urgently.

“It's all been decided.”

The Fire Queen became agitated. “You should listen to my advice. I have much experience of war and I'm telling you this is a mistake. Do not attack this house.”

“Malveria, what's the matter with you? Why are you getting upset about this?”

“I don't want you to go and die in a place I can't help you!” said the Fire Queen. “There are reasons I cannot join you there.”

“Ah.” Thrix nodded. “The Maynista Curse.”

“How did you learn of that?”

“I didn't. Dominil did, from Queen Dithean.”

“Dithean should not be telling stories of my past. And why is she telling Dominil?”

“I don't know. But she wouldn't agree to help us at all until Dominil persuaded her. She gave her the ‘Maynista Princess Two Flower Pathway.'”

The Fire Queen moaned and a flaming tear appeared at the corner of one eye. “That spell is a very sad memory. I don't want you to use it.”

“I have to. It's the only way in.”

“Really, Thrix, you should not go and fight in some place that I cannot help you. I'm sure you'll die.”

“Malveria, you're not being very encouraging.”

“Why should I be encouraging? I do not feel encouraging.”

Thrix couldn't persuade the Fire Queen that it wasn't a bad idea, and soon gave up the attempt. She appreciated her friend's concerns, but Thrix had never envisaged the Fire Queen accompanying her on the mission, so wasn't concerned that the Queen couldn't enter the house. It was MacRinnalch business, and though Thrix wouldn't have said as much to Malveria, the rest of the werewolves wouldn't have wanted her there.

“When is this attack?” said the Fire Queen.

“In a few days. The twelfth, if everything goes to plan.”

“The twelfth? The night of Takahashi's launch at H&M at which Donatella Versace herself is rumored to be in attendance?” The Fire Queen looked sulky. “We should be going together. But you would not have come anyway, I expect. For weeks you have failed to accompany me
to all the most important shows. My clothes have suffered, Enchantress, though I have borne it well.”