“And he has ended it? Why?”
“He didn’t say,” wailed Moonglow. “He just ended it.”
The Fire Queen nodded sagely. She was not surprised. Malveria knew Markus to be ambitious. A young human girlfriend was not what he needed to become Thane. The kind and compassionate Moonglow had exactly the right sort of character to comfort Markus, and bring him back to life. And probably, thought Malveria, she was a moderately good companion in bed, which would be a help. But once healed, Markus would no longer need her.
The Fire Queen chose her words carefully. Moonglow was distraught, and could not be comforted. But she could surely be influenced.
“You may soon come to realise that this is a good thing. Now that you have been released from Markus, you will be free to meet the person who is truly right for you.”
“I want Markus.”
“Indeed. But that will pass. I can sense it passing, more swiftly than you realise.”
Moonglow didn’t respond, She didn’t think her anguish over Markus was ever going to pass.
“Meanwhile, as a way of taking your attention from you own troubles, perhaps you could attend to the troubles surrounding Daniel?”
“What troubles?”
“I believe he may be in for some awkwardness with Vex and Kalix.”
Moonglow had no idea what the Fire Queen was talking about.
“Daniel slept with Vex,” explained Malveria. “Did you not know that? I believe that Kalix was rather jealous and upset. It may be awkward for Daniel if these two young beauties are competing for his attention.”
Moonglow looked surprised. She had no idea that Vex and Kalix were competing for Daniel’s attention.
“And I understand a young woman at your college - what was her name? Agrivex did mention it to me - Alicia? - I understand that she has now been calling Daniel.”
“Alicia’s been phoning Daniel?”
“So Agrivex informs me. Poor Daniel may find it hard to cope with so many girls in urgent pursuit of him. As a good friend, you will be ideally situated to help him choose for the best.”
The Fire Queen departed, leaving Moonglow puzzled at the thought of Vex, Kalix and Alicia all competing for Daniel. Malveria was well pleased with herself. Perhaps, she mused, Moonglow would not regard him as quite so unworthy now.
169
After the full moon there was great activity around the lands of the MacRinnalchs. The Barons’ representatives arrived back from London carrying Sarapen’s instructions, and now every fortified keep was alive with preparations. When Sarapen gave the order each Baron had to be ready to advance on Castle MacRinnalch.
Young Baron Douglas MacAllister, to the east of the castle, was to march through Colburn Wood. Douglas and his sister Morag were eager for war.
The MacPhees would come down from the hills to the north. Baron MacPhee was too old and obese to conduct a campaign, so they would be would led by his eldest son, Euan MacRinnalch MacPhee.
As for Baron MacGregor, his lands also hummed with activity, but so far he had neither refused nor consented to support Sarapen’s insurrection. His son Wallace favoured joining with the other Barons, but Wallace was war-like by nature, better at fighting than thinking. Lachlan MacGregor still advised caution.
News of the Barons’ preparations reached the castle quickly. It was time for all werewolves to choose sides, or else retire to their homes, and hope the storm might pass quickly. The Fairy Queen of Colburn Woods drew her people to her, and waited on events. Far away to the north, old Minerva MacRinnalch, now retired, turned her gaze southwards. She could see the troops gathering and the troubled times to come. She could see Lucia MacRinnalch fretting in the castle, hardly knowing which side to support, that of her sister or that of her son Decembrius. She saw her old pupil Thrix MacRinnalch struggling to maintain her grip on events in London, and watched as Marwanis left the castle to take up residence at Sarapen’s keep.
The Mistress of the Werewolves did not really believe that the Barons would attack the castle, but made careful preparations nonetheless. She informed those members of the Great Council still remaining - Lucia, Kurian, Kertal, Dulupina, and Tupan - that she had recalled Markus.
“I’ve appointed Markus captain of the castle guard and he will direct all our troop operations.”
Tupan smiled to himself. He doubted very much if young Markus would direct the troops. Verasa herself was far more experienced in the art of war.
“Is it true that Sarapen has put a price on Kalix’s head?” Tupan enquired.
“Yes. Five gold nobles.”
Tupan was impressed.
“A fine price. As much as has ever been offered for a werewolf, I’d say.”
“So I believe,” replied Verasa, stiffly.
“I wonder who’ll try to collect?” said Tupan.
“No one will collect a reward for Kalix,” declared Verasa. Tupan wasn’t so sure. He knew many werewolves who’d do a lot to earn five gold nobles.
The Mistress of the Werewolves stared over the battlements. Beneath the great dark castle the MacRinnalch lands were green and peaceful, though the skies were overcast. The land to the north sloped gently downwards for almost a mile before giving way to the great glen that came down from the Rinnalch hills, where Baron MacPhee sat in his fortified keep, as his ancestors had done for more than a thousand years. Verasa had known the old Baron all her life. He’d been present at her christening, and her wedding. She had sent him lavish gifts when his son Euan was born. Now Euan was about to lead the MacPhees against her.
170
There were three and a half weeks till the Sorceress Livia’s birthday celebration and Princess Kabachetka already had a beautiful new wardrobe. Five days’ worth of exclusive shoes, coats, dresses, blouses, skirts, trousers, and accessories. It should have been enough to make her happy. It wasn’t. The Princess knew there was something missing from Zatek’s designs. Something that could hardly be named, but something of ultimate importance. Zatek could not provide for Princess Kabachetka the final touch of genius which Thrix could give to Queen Malveria.
For months now, Kabachetka had trumped every fashion statement made by Malveria, wearing clothes ostensibly made by Zatek, but really designed by Thrix, and swiftly stolen. Now Zatek designed on his own and the results weren’t good enough. Kabachetka knew that if Malveria turned up at the party in a full array of Thrix Fashion, she would outshine her. All the great ladies would nod as the Princess passed, and congratulate her on the splendour of her attire, before raising their fans to whisper that really, she was no match for Queen Malveria.
If Princes Kabachetka’s garments were seriously deficient in comparison to her rival’s, then Beau DeMortalis, Duke of the Black Castle, might even raise an eyebrow. Beau DeMortalis was a fabulous dandy whose disapproval in matters of fashion was feared all over the realms. A raised eyebrow from Beau DeMortalis had been the kiss of death for many an aspiring fashion leader. The Princess grew cold at the thought. She simply couldn’t bear it if Beau DeMortalis were to raise an eyebrow.
Princess Kabachetka bent all her will to discovering the hiding place of Malveria’s clothes. She scanned the area around Thrix’s office, widening her search, hunting for any secret places where werewolves had been. She would find out what Malveria was going to wear and Zatek would copy the ideas.
‘And if I discover her clothes too late,’ thought the Princess. ‘If there is no time for Zatek to adapt them for me, then I will destroy Malveria’s new garments, every one of them.’
171
Kalix was surprised to receive a phone call from Dominil.
“I need help handing out fliers,” said Dominil.
Kalix didn’t understand. Dominil explained that the twins had a gig and now Dominil needed to give out leaflets advertising it. To Dominil’s mind this was a tedious task, and probably unnecessary. Using Verasa’s money she could have paid for adverts in every music paper and website. That however was tantamount to buying succes
s and the twins wouldn’t allow it.
“If there’s expensive ads everywhere everyone will mock us for being rich girls. We need fliers.”
Not that there was any likelihood of Beauty and Delicious handing out fliers themselves.
“We’re busy writing songs and stuff. We can’t hand out fliers. Anyway it’s cold outside.”
Dominil had designed the leaflets herself. She was pleased with the result but wasn’t looking forward to giving them out. Dominil knew she was certain to attract a lot of unwanted attention if she stood around outside Camden tube station. Thinking that a companion would make the work easier, she selected Kalix, and offered to pay her.
Kalix would probably have done it without being paid. The atmosphere in the house was still strained, and she’d been curious about Dominil since the eventful night in the park. Kalix put on an oversized jersey that Daniel had given her, wrapped herself in her coat, and slipped out into the cold afternoon. She took the tube from Kennington to Camden where Dominil was waiting.
“I’ve never done this before,” said Kalix.
“Neither have I,” said Dominil, taking a wad of fliers from her bag and handing them to Kalix. “Just give one to everyone who passes.”
Although Camden was always full of people giving out fliers, and most people studiously avoided taking them, Dominil and Kalix had no trouble in disposing of theirs. Their combined strangeness and beauty acted as a magnet to almost everyone who passed. Their hair alone was enough to attract attention. Dominil’s hung long and ice-white over her black leather coat and Kalix’s, thick and lustrous, streamed down to her waist. Kalix was so skinny it seemed there was more hair than anything else. Her health had improved and though she was still very pale, her large, elfin eyes were now shining rather than dull.
The two werewolves soon found themselves on the receiving end of the sort of unwanted attention Dominil had anticipated. After chasing off the twentieth man who lingered beside them, wanting to discuss the gig, the weather, or anything else, Dominil pursed her lips.
“This is just as tedious as I imagined it would be.”
Kalix shrugged.
“We’ve given out a lot of fliers.”
They had. As a first attempt it had been a success. Dominil suggested that they retire to a bar and Kalix followed her across the street. Dominil asked Kalix if she wanted anything to eat. Kalix shook her head so the white-haired werewolf bought two bottles of beer. Kalix suddenly felt nervous. Outside she had been fine but now she wondered if Dominil was going to start lecturing her about family business. Kalix generally assumed that any family member was going to lecture her about something.
“Thanks for the book,” she said.
“Thank you for saving my life,” replied Dominil.
They sat rather stiffly together. Neither of them were great conversationalists. Dominil politely inquired how Kalix was getting along with her new friends.
“Everything is awful,” replied Kalix, to Dominil’s surprise.
“I understood you were co-existing well with Daniel and Moonglow.”
“Moonglow’s depressed and Daniel’s unhappy and we’ve been arguing.”
Kalix told Dominil about her recent experiences in the house.
“These do not seem like serious problems,” said Dominil, dismissively. “Merely the sort of things that are to be expected when sharing a flat. I also suffer from the idiocies of Beauty and Delicious.”
Kalix supposed that her experiences weren’t so bad, when she considered it.
“But I hate people lecturing me,” she added.
“What do they lecture you about?”
“Not eating. And I cut myself.”
Kalix looked defiantly at Dominil.
“Don’t lecture me about it,” she said.
“I don’t care if you starve and bleed yourself to death,” replied Dominil, and quite obviously meant it. Kalix was surprised. Dominil handed her a small bag. Inside was some money, and a bottle of laudanum.
“Payment for your help.”
Two young men in leather jackets approached rather hesitantly and asked if they could sit down at their table. Dominil showed her teeth and growled at them. They hurried off.
“Can I come to the gig?” asked Kalix.
“Of course. We’ll put you on the guest list.”
Kalix liked that. She’d never been on a guest list before. It felt important.
“When is it?”
“It’s on the flier,” said Dominil.
Kalix looked at the flier. Dominil saw immediately that she struggled to understand it.
“You can’t read?”
Kalix flushed.
“I can read some.”
“But not well. That must be inconvenient.”
“I was getting better,” said Kalix. “I was using Moonglow’s computer. With Puffy the Puffin.”
“So I recall,” said Dominil. “You rescued him. What happened next?”
“I don’t use Moonglow’s computer any more.”
“Did she prevent you?”
“No…”
“You didn’t want to accept the favour?”
Kalix nodded.
“How very foolish,” declared Dominil, with an alarming lack of sympathy. “If you don’t look after your own interests you may be sure that no one else will.”
“But I don’t want to,” said Kalix, rather pathetically.
“Then don’t,” said Dominil, bringing the subject to a swift end.
It was time to give out the rest of their fliers. They walked along to a venue where people were arriving for tonight’s gig.
“It’s a good design,” said Kalix, who was impressed that Dominil had made the leaflets herself. “People at the castle used to say you were the cleverest MacRinnalch.”
“They were right,” replied Dominil. “I am.”
Kalix smiled. She decided she liked Dominil.
“Do you really think I should keep learning to read?”
“I do not greatly care,” said Dominil. “But it would probably make your life easier.”
Kalix thought that was encouraging. She’d make another attempt.
172
Thrix woke up with Gawain beside her and immediately felt annoyed.
“What the hell are you doing here? Don’t you know I’m busy? How am I meant to work with you here all the time?”
“You asked me to stay,” protested Gawain.
“So what? You didn’t have to accept. Don’t you have any self-control?”
Thrix swung herself from the bed, donned her dressing gown and snapped her fingers, turning on the coffee maker in the kitchen.
“This has got to stop!” she said, forcefully.
In her bed, Gawain was looking perplexed.
“You asked me to stay!” he said.
“Will you stop repeating that?” said Thrix. “It’s not my fault if you’re always turning up here with wounds and making me feel sorry for you. Do you think I’ve got nothing better to do with my time than wrap you in bandages?”
Gawain had endured another hostile werewolf encounter in Kennington. He’d met two MacAndris werewolves, hunting for Kalix. Gawain had chased them off, receiving a few cuts in the process. And then, to use the Enchantress’s words, he’d trotted over to her house like a sick puppy looking for attention. Gawain was stung by Thrix’s criticism. He rose from the bed. The Enchantress was irritated to observe what an attractive body he had. Flat stomach muscles, and shoulders that were strong without being too broad. The male model in her last advert should have had such a good physique.
Gawain hardly knew what he was doing here. He didn’t know why they kept sleeping together. It didn’t seem to make either of them happy. He dressed swiftly and headed for the door.
“So that’s your idea of how to behave?” cried the Enchantress. “You’re just walking out of here without saying goodbye?”
“I didn’t think you wanted me to say goodbye,” replied Gawain.
/> “I don’t. The sooner you’re out of here the better. And next time you get injured protecting that walking personality-disorder Kalix, go somewhere else for treatment.”
“I will,” snarled Gawain, angered by Thrix’s withering tone. Though he didn’t like her very much at this moment, Gawain did still realise he owed her for her healing powers. He attempted to say as much but she cut him off.
“Are you going to stand there talking all day? Weren’t you about to leave?”
“Damn you I don’t know what you want!” cried Gawain. “I’m leaving.” He wrenched the bedroom door open. The Enchantress snapped her fingers and the door slammed shut.
“So you’re just going to walk out of here without a word of thanks?” demanded Thrix.
Gawain growled. This she-wolf was beyond his comprehension.
“Open the door!” he demanded, and dealt it a hefty blow.
“You dare to use violence in my house?” roared the Enchantress. She again snapped her fingers, making the door fly open.
“Get out and don’t come back!”
“I won’t!”
Gawain marched along the hallway and opened the front door. Before he could step outside, it flew shut again and the Enchantress was somehow in front of him, looking angry.
“Oh yes you’d just love to leave with your nose in the air, wouldn’t you? Do you know how much I despise you? God knows why I ever got involved with you.”
Gawain put his face close to Thrix’s.
“And God knows why I ever got involved with you, you manipulating, bad-tempered, blonde-haired - ”
Gawain came to an abrupt halt. For one thing he’d noticed how attractive Thrix’s hair really was and for another the Enchantress had grabbed him and was now kissing him, very forcibly. She propelled him along the corridor and back into the bedroom.
“Never bother me again,” demanded Thrix, as they fell onto the bed.
173
The Douglas-MacPhees prowled the south London streets in their black van. Rhona drove, and the brothers scanned the pavements. The inside of their van was dark, with various stolen items strewn on the floor. They had a new digital radio, taken from a house they’d burgled last week. It was tuned to doom-metal.com. The harsh noise suited their mood. Duncan nodded idly in time to the music, shaking his hair, which was long, lank and black. He had a snarling wolf tattooed over his shoulder as did each of his siblings.