The Curse of the Wolf Girl (22 page)

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Authors: Martin Millar

Tags: #Literary Fiction, #Fiction / Literary, #Fiction

BOOK: The Curse of the Wolf Girl
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“What?”

“You’re wearing pictures of cats,” said Moonglow.

Vex stared down at her T-shirt, trying to reconcile the pictures of Hello Kitty with the small creature that was now playing with Kalix’s bootlaces.

“Go away, you stupid cat,” said Kalix.

“Where did it come from?”

“It jumped in the window.”

“It’s hardly more than a kitten,” said Moonglow. “Maybe it’s homeless.” She advanced towards it, but the kitten didn’t take kindly to Moonglow. It hissed at her and rushed behind Kalix’s legs for protection.

“Stop hiding behind me, you stupid cat,” demanded Kalix.

“It likes you,” said Daniel.

“I hate it,” replied Kalix. “I’m going to throw it out.” She bent down to pick the cat up. It leapt in her arms and began pawing at her chest.

“Is it savaging her now?” asked Vex.

“I don’t think so. It’s friendly.”

“Stupid cat,” said Kalix, and stood holding it very awkwardly, not looking pleased at this new development.

Chapter 49
 

You’ve made many mistakes,” said Distikka, in the depths of Princess Kabachetka’s private caves.

“I am aware of that,” replied the princess.

“You should never have confronted the Fire Queen and the enchantress. They’re too strong. Add in your brother Esarax, and the position becomes hopeless. You can’t fight against so many powerful opponents.”

“If I wished to hear about my deficiencies, I could spend time with my mother,” said the princess, angrily. “Do you have anything useful to say before I propel you through the floor into the lava pool below?”

“I’m simply pointing out where you’ve gone wrong.”

“Then what would you suggest? You who hold the not-very-mighty-position of advisor to Queen Malveria.” Princess Kabachetka stared intently at her visitor.

“It’s no use trying to interpret my aura,” said Distikka. “I grew up in a monastery with fire monks where I learned the art of mental control. My aura can’t be read, even by Queen Malveria.”

“Which means you may be an even bigger liar than I assume you are already,” said the princess.

Distikka sat down on a small outcrop of rock in the cave, far too comfortably for the princess’s liking. “My advice is to avoid confrontation. You should make new allies and work against your enemies by stealth.”

“Brilliant,” sneered the princess. “You have read the beginner’s book of military tactics.”

“If you’d paid any attention to your brother, you might have realized how powerful he was becoming and done something to prevent it. If you’d paid attention to Malveria’s actions, you might have stopped her from forming her alliance with Thrix. But you didn’t.”

Once more the princess strained and failed to interpret Distikka’s aura. She had the alarming thought that this might all be a plot by Malveria.

“And now you have a powerful enemy in the Earthly dimension. Too powerful to attack with any safety.”

“I managed before,” countered the princess. “I removed Thrix’s power.”

Distikka nodded. “True. You took her by surprise, and you used the empress’s sorcery against her. Can you do that again?”

The princess looked pained. The lecture her mother had given her for illicitly transporting her secret spells to the Earth still stung. She couldn’t risk it again.

“So you have no power against the enchantress, and having once attacked her, you can no longer take her by surprise.”

The princess flared up in anger, causing a spout of yellow flame to shoot from one end of the cavern to the other. “I am aware of this already!”

“Then find a new weakness in the enchantress,” continued Distikka, calmly.

“What weakness does she have? Do you mean her hair? I checked carefully, and she seems to be a natural blond.”

Distikka’s face twitched. “I was not referring to her hair. Did you know that she’s notoriously unfortunate in affairs of the heart?”

“Really?” The princess was pleased. “She’s a failure in love?”

“A string of unsatisfactory romances. Malveria has often mentioned it. You could exploit this.”

“How?”

“Find her a suitable lover. One who will also be your spy and agent.”

For the first time since their meeting, a smile passed over the princess’s face. “I like this notion! Send a lover to Thrix MacRinnalch who will destroy her.” Her face fell. “If I were to send anyone to woo the enchantress, she would sense immediately that he was a Hainusta Elemental.”

“Find someone on Earth. A human. Give Thrix the lover she wants, and you can attack her. And Malveria too.” Distikka stood up. “Where is Sarapen’s body?”

Princess Kabachetka glowed an angry crimson. “That’s not your concern.”

“You’ve already wasted time by leaving his body in a state of suspended animation. It’s a potent bargaining tool. It gives you access to the MacRinnalchs.”

Princess Kabachetka felt confused, not understanding Distikka’s meaning. She had a brief desire to escape from the conversation and relax by trying on some new shoes and dresses. With an effort of will, she persevered. Distikka, though poorly dressed, did seem like a woman who was worth listening to.

Chapter 50
 

Kalix had never rung a doorbell without hesitating. She always feared that she might be an unwelcome visitor. She stood nervously on the doorstep of the twins’ house in Camden for several minutes, wondering whether she should ring the bell or just go away. Finally she plucked up the courage.

“Kalix! Come in!” Beauty and Delicious welcomed their young cousin inside. Though the twins’ lives revolved around their band, they hadn’t completely forgotten the way Kalix had helped them. When Sarapen attacked their gig, they’d have been hard pressed to survive without Kalix’s savage fighting skills.

It was midday, and the sisters were still sober. Perhaps feeling that something should be done about this, Beauty poured three glasses of the MacRinnalch malt. It was customary for any MacRinnalch to offer a fellow clan member a small glass of the MacRinnalch whisky as a token of friendship; Beauty and Delicious were glad of the excuse.

“Have you come to hear our new songs?” asked Delicious. The twins had been at their hairdresser yesterday, and Delicious’s hair was now a particularly gaudy shade of pink. Aided by sly inserted extensions, it poured over her head and shoulders in an enormous wave.

Kalix shook her head. Her own hair, a natural dark brown, had never been cut and was even longer than that of the twins.

Beauty pointed out to her sister that they hadn’t finished any new songs.

“Oh. Do you want to hear some old ones?”

Kalix struggled to answer. The twins always seemed to be so active, so in control of their lives, and having such a good time that Kalix ended up feeling young and stupid. She’d sometimes wished that she could have fun like them instead of having everything go wrong all the time. “I was looking for Dominil,” she mumbled.

The twins shuddered in an exaggerated fashion.

“Dominil? You know she wants us to play a gig in Edinburgh? Why would anyone want to play in Edinburgh? It’s the end of the world.”

Kalix couldn’t quite see how this could be true, but didn’t comment.

“And she’s moaning about how we should be rehearsing more. The woman gets no enjoyment out of life.”

“Doesn’t like us getting drunk or going out, wants us to practice all the time. What kind of manager is that?” asked Delicious, indignantly.

“Is she your manager now?” asked Kalix.

“Sort of,” said Beauty. “She does all the manager stuff. She’s good at it, except she’s an unbearable pain.”

“How can we rehearse, anyway,” demanded Delicious, “when our guitarist doesn’t show up?”

“We think he’s upset over some woman, but he won’t tell us about it.”

“I still think it’s that barmaid,” said Delicious. “What’s he upset for anyway? Just because someone’s breaking his heart, it’s no reason not to show up for rehearsal.”

“I thought Dominil would kill him for that,” said Beauty, “but she didn’t.”

“She hasn’t been tough enough on him. She should sort him out.”

Beauty studied herself in the wall mirror that was squeezed into a gap in the shelves housing part of their huge music collection. Many more CDs and DVDs were strewn around the floor, and there were instruments left carelessly around. The twins didn’t take care of anything. They were wealthy enough not to have to. Their parents had invested their share of the clan wealth wisely and then died early, leaving Beauty and Delicious to enjoy their inheritance.

“Do you think I need more extensions?” Beauty’s hair, as violently blue as her sister’s was pink, was equally thick and long.

“You’d fall over,” said Delicious, and they both laughed quite raucously at the thought of falling over because they had too much hair.

A key sounded in the lock, there were light footsteps in the hall, and Dominil appeared.

“Dominil! Have some whisky.”

“The token of friendship does not have to be offered to a fellow werewolf who visits every day,” said Dominil, calmly.

“Well, have some anyway.”

Dominil declined. The sisters filled up their own glasses again.

“Kalix, what brings you here?” Dominil asked.

“I want to talk about…things,” replied Kalix, not wanting to mention Gawain’s death in front of the twins.

“Come upstairs,” said Dominil.

“Did you talk to Pete?” asked Beauty.

“Not yet.”

“You said you were going to.”

“I’ll get round to it.”

“What’s the matter?” demanded Delicious. “When we do something wrong, you’re always shouting and screaming about it, but now Pete’s not even playing guitar, and you’re letting him get away with it!”

“I do not shout and scream,” said Dominil.

“It’s just not good enough. Our guitarist is depressed because some slutty barmaid has hooked him with a few free pints of lager.”

“And cleavage,” added Delicious. “She really bends over when she serves drinks.”

“True. Pete was probably powerless to resist. No wonder he fell for her.”

Beauty looked puzzled. “Hang on. If she’s been luring him with free beer and cleavage, why’s he depressed? That should be enough to keep him happy.”

“Maybe she rejected him?”

“She never rejected anybody. Pete must be in love with someone else. Who could it be?”

The twins thought for a few moments, and then turned to each other in surprise.

“Could it be one of us?” Beauty asked.

“That would be a disaster!” exclaimed Delicious. “You can’t have the guitarist going around moping about the singer. It’s really bad for the band. Dominil, is Pete in love with one of us?”

“I really wouldn’t know,” said Dominil. “And I don’t want to—”

“He should show more self-control,” cried Beauty, “though I have noticed him looking at me. I expect he tried to hold out for a while then just abandoned the attempt.”

“It’s sad he’s fallen for me in such a big way,” said Delicious, “but I’m not going out with him.”

The twins looked at each other.

“What do you mean
fallen for you
? He’s fallen for me.”

“No, he hasn’t, he’s fallen for me.”

The twins paused and then laughed. They’d never argued over a boy and weren’t about to start now.

“We’ll just have to let him down without crushing him too much.”

“Dominil should do it; she’s the manager.”

“Dominil, could you try and make him fall in love with someone else?”

Dominil regarded them with icy dislike. “I’m not a dating agency.”

“How about giving him a whirl yourself? He’s not bad looking in a sort of hollow-cheeked guitarist way.”

The twins exploded with laughter at the thought of Dominil being a groupie for their guitarist. Beauty choked on her drink and needed assistance from her sister.

Dominil turned her back on them. “Kalix, I don’t imagine you came here to listen to this pair of idiots. Come upstairs to my office, and we’ll talk.”

Chapter 51
 

At the top of the house, Dominil had cleared out a small room and installed some shelves for files and a computer, making a small haven of efficiency in the chaotic household. She sat at her desk, directed Kalix to a wooden chair, and looked directly at her. “What do you want to see me about?”

Kalix gazed at the ceiling.

“I have a lot of work to do,” said Dominil, “so please get to the point.”

Kalix shrank back a little. Even though she’d experienced Dominil’s abrupt manner in the past, it could still be alarming. “Gawain,” she whispered.

“What about him?”

“I want to find out who killed him.” Kalix shrank a little more, half expecting Dominil to throw her out for wasting her time.

Instead the white-haired werewolf nodded. “That sounds reasonable. You did have a close relationship. I don’t imagine the police are going to solve the case, especially as Thrix has removed the body and sent it back to the castle.”

Kalix’s heart lurched. “What?”

“Weren’t you aware of that?”

Kalix shook her head. No one had told her. Tears formed in her eyes at the thought of Gawain’s body being transported across the country. She wiped them away angrily, not wanting to cry in front of Dominil.

“You found his body,” said Dominil, ignoring Kalix’s tears. “Was there anything there to suggest who killed him? Or even how he died?”

Kalix managed to control her tears, but her voice was small as she spoke. “I don’t know. It all happened so quickly. I’d just found him and then the hunters arrived and then I was fighting them and the police came.”

“Was he freshly killed?”

Kalix shook her head, and felt quite miserable. “He’d been dead for days. I could smell it.”

“With a wound in his heart?”

“A bad one. It bled a lot.”

“A silver bullet?”

Kalix was uncertain. She gone over it in her mind since, trying to remember all the details, but she wasn’t certain about the wound. “I think the wound in his chest was too big for a bullet.”

“If he was shot from behind, the bullet would tear a large hole in his chest when it exited the body,” said Dominil.

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