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 make-up, 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 deta
ils 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 Moonglow 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.”
They shook their heads. They could have done with some extra money but they weren’t about to accept it from a person whom neither of them liked.
“Fine,” said Thrix. “Kalix has my phone number. I’ll be in touch.”
The Enchantress hurried off. She didn’t feel that her visit had been a great success, but at least she’d done what her mother asked. For a while she was free to concentrate on her own life.
90
Gawain boarded a train for London. Paying for his ticket took up quite a large proportion of his money. Gawain’s family had never been wealthy and what money there was he judged better to leave for the use of his young sister, a student at St Andrews University. She was his only surviving relative and it was more than a year since he’d seen her. She had her own life to get on with, and probably not much time for an older brother who wandered the land in disgrace.
As he took the money from his wallet he found a scrap of paper. It contained a poem he’d written about Kalix while he was sitting alone on a hillside. He tore the paper into small pieces and dropped them in a bin. It was time to stop writing poems and start making some progress in finding Kalix. It had been weak of him to abandon the quest. When he reached London he intended to visit Thrix, and he would not be put off with her lies again.
Gawain had not seen Kalix for three years. Might she have changed? Somehow, he doubted it. Her hair would be longer and she would still be skinny. Too skinny, as he’d told her. She’d laughed, and told him if he didn’t like skinny werewolves he’d better find another werewolf. When he’d first met her she was quiet, and troubled. Later she’d started to laugh a lot. He wondered if she still did. He wondered if she’d met anyone else. This thought was too distressing to dwell on for long.
Deep in his soul Gawain didn’t really believe that Kalix would have found anyone else. Surely there was no one else for her but him, just as there was no one else for him but Kalix.
Gawain was the only werewolf on the train but he was not unobserved. When Sarapen learned that he had escaped he’d sent agents to watch the railway stations. Gawain had been spotted quickly and then followed, though not by a werewolf. Gawain would scent any werewolf who tailed him. Sarapen sent a man called Madrigal who had worked for him before, and could be relied on. His mission was to follow Gawain and see if he led them to Kalix.
Gawain was also observed by two werewolf hunters from the Guild, on their way back to London after completing their duties in Scotland. They were immediately suspicious of him. He had the look of a MacRinnalch and there was something in his movements that suggested werewolf to the experienced hunters. They kept a discreet eye on him as the train travelled south. Nothing about their appearance or behaviour gave them away as members of the Guild, but inside each of their briefcases was a gun loaded with silver bullets.
91
Kalix was in an extremely bad mood after Thrix’s visit. As Daniel reported to Moonglow, she was sulking in her room and refused to come out.
“She says we must never let Thrix in again because she’s an evil witch and if we keep inviting her enemies here then she’s going to leave right away. Also, she hates us for not having enough TV channels and she suspects we’re deliberately preventing her from watching Sabrina the Teenage Witch, probably because we’re too stupid to realise what a great programme it is. Also she loathes the way my hair flops in front of my eyes and she says if you wear any more make-up it’s going to make her ill, and maybe you could try wearing something that wasn’t black once in a while. Also her bed isn’t comfy, the CD player I gave her doesn’t work properly and apart from this, she doesn’t much like the colour of the walls. Also, she - ”
“Please stop,” said Moonglow, holding up her hand. “So she’s all right, really?”
“Pretty much,” said Daniel. “I guess she just finds it hard to cope with her family.”
He glanced in the small mirror above the fireplace.
“Is it really nauseous the way my hair flops in front of my eyes?”
“Totally,” said Moonglow. “I’ve often wanted to mention it.”
She was relieved that Kalix, despite her long list of complaints, had not decided to pack her bag and leave. Really, the young werewolf was settling down quite well, in a bad-tempered, full-of-complaints sort of way. Moonglow suggested to Daniel that possibly Kalix’s continual whining was the best she could do in the way of relating to them.
“I don’t think she has much experience of being happy in company. When she gets used to it, things will become easier.”
Daniel hoped Moonglow was right. At least Kalix hadn’t been violent, and nor had she seemed to suffer another attack of anxiety recently.
“She’s seemed calmer since she filled up her bottle,” he said. “I wonder what’s in it?”
According to Kalix her bottle was full of a herbal drink which werewolves were partial to.
“All MacRinnalchs drink it,” said Kalix, but made sure that neither Daniel nor Moonglow ever came near the bottle.
“Are you coming to the party tomorrow?” asked Moonglow.
Daniel shook his head.
“I was going to but now I’m feeling bad about my hair.”
“Don’t be silly. You have nice hair. When you wash it. Which you will, if Alicia is going to be there.
“I don’t care if Alicia is there,” replied Daniel. “Is Alicia going to be there?”
“Yes.”
“I’m not going to speak to her. She thinks I’m an idiot.
“No she doesn’t. She likes you.”
“How do you know?” asked Daniel. “Did she say that?”
“Well, no.”
“So she said she doesn’t like me?”
“No.”
?
??Then how do you expect me to get to know this girl?” said Daniel. “She obviously has no interest in me at all.”
Moonglow shook her head. She had decided to make an effort to help Daniel find a girlfriend. It was becoming a little tedious the way he kept sulking when Moonglow went to visit Jay. Sharing a house with a sulking flatmate and a sulking werewolf was hard on a girl. Moonglow could see that Daniel would be attractive to girls if he could only muster a little confidence. And maybe cut down on the music lectures. And not talk about cricket.
Daniel was gloomy at the prospect of going to Moonglow’s friend’s party. If Alicia was there he could foresee great embarrassment, particularly if Moonglow pressured him into talking to her, as she was threatening to do. Daniel’s mood became worse when Jay phoned. He went off to sulk in the kitchen, but finding that Kalix had beaten him to it and was already there, sulking furiously, he retreated to his room, selected the noisiest CD he could find, and put it on.
92
Sitting on her splendid throne, in her fabulous throne room, in her enormous palace, the Fire Queen was dissatisfied. It was barely lunch time and she had nothing to do.
‘It is a matter of regret,’ she mused. ‘That I am so splendidly competent. Not only did I defeat my enemies so completely that there seems no prospect of war ever breaking out again, I then proceeded to organise my kingdom so efficiently that matters of state now run so smoothly as to never cause me any problems.’
Finding that she did not care to be continually tending to each minor volcano, of which there were many, or take care of distributing gold, blood and sacrifices to her loyal subjects, the Fire Queen had taken care to appoint the best elementals to do these tedious tasks for her. They did this so well that very little ever arose which needed the Queen’s attention. Malveria drummed her fingers on her throne. She called for Xakthan, her First Minister. He arrived seconds later, in a flash of blue lightening.