Read Lonely Werewolf Girl Page 55


  Moonglow heard a noise downstairs. It was Vex, who’d teleported in without invitation. The young Hiyasta was holding her arm, rather miserably.

  “I bumped my elbow,” she said, and looked hopefully at Moonglow. “It really hurts.”

  Moonglow hurried to her assistance, sitting on the couch where she rubbed her elbow till Vex proclaimed it to be better.

  “I hate bumping my elbow,” said Vex.

  “It can be very painful,” agreed Moonglow.

  Vex was holding a parcel.

  “I brought a present for Kalix,” she said. “I went shopping.”

  “I can see,” replied Moonglow.

  Vex was wearing a pair of black army trousers which had so many straps it was difficult to see where the trousers ended and the straps began. They were obviously new, as were the large boots she wore which were also black but, incongruously, had flowers round the edge of the soles and fairies on the laces. She had a bright yellow Hello Kitty T-shirt onto which were pinned several Hello Kitty badges, and an embroidered waistcoat which may have originated in India, or some point further east. Each of her nails was a different colour. Her hair, brilliant gold, stood up in spikes with the support of various new hair preparations which appeared to have been put on in their raw state, and not properly rinsed out, cementing the strands into place firmly enough to resist the most hostile environment. If Malveria ever made good on her threat to throw Agrivex into the great volcano, it was possible her hair might survive the experience.

  Vex flexed her elbow and grinned.

  “It’s better now. Why are you so cheerful?”

  “What?”

  “I can read it in your aura.”

  Moonglow was amazed. She’d never been less cheerful in her life. Vex was extremely bad at reading auras.

  “Getting over Markus, I expect?” continued Vex. “It’s the right thing to do. Just move on. Are Aunt Malvie’s clothes finished? I want to take a look.”

  “You will do no such thing, wretched girl whom I tragically considered adopting in a moment of weakness,” thundered Malveria, materialising in the front room with Thrix at her side. Moonglow was surprised to see how worn Thrix looked. Malveria, in contrast, positively radiated happiness.

  “The Enchantress has magnificently completed my ball gown for the Sorceress Livia’s birthday celebration. It is a garment to break the hearts of all ladies not fortunate enough to be wearing it.”

  The Fire Queen laughed with unbridled pleasure.

  “Once more Malveria rules supreme!”

  “So are all your clothes ready now?” asked Moonglow.

  “No,” admitted Malveria. “But the Enchantress assures me that the shoes, matching accessories, outfits for the poolside breakfast, and assorted handmaidens’ dresses will all be ready in time.”

  She frowned.

  “Though there is barely more than a week to go…”

  “Everything is under control,” said Thrix, confidently.

  “Can I see?” asked Vex, eagerly.

  Malveria glared balefully at her.

  “Agrivex, I have frequently threatened you with a visit to the great volcano. Please be assured that I mean it when I say to you this time, if you dare to touch any of these clothes, I will kill you. If I find that one single ill-painted finger of your poorly washed hand has befouled my glorious new raiments, you will die.”

  As she said this the Fire Queen looked so utterly ferocious that Moonglow shrank back into the couch.

  Vex looked glumly at her arm.

  “I bumped my elbow,” she said, and looked hopefully at her aunt.

  “Please Agrivex,” sighed Malveria. “You must fight this continual need to have your elbow rubbed. A minor elbow bump is really not such a serious injury.”

  Malveria turned to the Enchantress.

  “Let us hide these immediately. There’s no telling how closely the repulsive Kabachetka and her lickspittle Zatek may be spying.”

  Thrix and Malveria hurried upstairs. Vex, apparently unaffected by her aunt’s threats, began bouncing around on the couch.

  “When’s Kalix coming back? I want to give her her present.”

  192

  Encouraged by Marwanis, Wallace and Lachlan had their way. Baron MacGregor joined the rebellion. Wallace was exultant. He was one of the very few werewolves whose strength rivalled that of Sarapen. He loved to fight and had feared that such a fine opportunity might not present itself in his lifetime. The MacGregors made their way down from the Rinnalch Hills in the north. They camped on the northern fringes of Colburn Wood, taking cover from the persistent rain, which was now turning to snow.

  They were greeted by Morag MacAllister, sister of Douglas, the new Baron. She crossed quickly over the countryside to congratulate the MacGregors on their arrival, and trade banter with Wallace as to who would be first over the castle walls. A meeting was arranged for the following night between representatives of the three Barons, to coordinate their forces ahead of Sarapen’s arrival. It was still five days till the full moon, when Sarapen would lead them to war.

  Inside the castle the loyal MacRinnalchs were tense, though not because of the approaching confrontation. The MacRinnalch werewolves did not fear combat. But there were many extra werewolves in the castle, drawn in from the surrounding estates, and it was unnatural for them to be cooped up like this. At night, they transformed into their werewolf shapes and paced the walls, waiting for the enemy.

  Kertal MacRinnalch had free rein to go where he pleased but the Mistress of the Werewolves had him closely watched. She didn’t trust Kurian’s son. However, when she was informed that Kertal had briefly encountered Buvalis MacGregor, the head of her household, on the western battlement, she thought nothing of it. Verasa would not have be so sanguine had she known that the few words Buvalis and Kertal exchanged concerned a rope long enough to reach the ground, and where it might be let down unobserved.

  When Sarapen learned that the MacGregors had finally entered the fray he felt elated. One part of his plan of attack was nearing completion. He asked Decembrius if he had news from Princess Kabachetka.

  “She has assembled everything she needs.”

  Sarapen nodded. Again, it was satisfactory. First he would smash all resistance in the south, then he would take the castle. In five days time he’d be Thane, and Markus and Kalix would be dead.

  Decembrius reminded Sarapen that they owed money to Merchant MacDoig. Sarapen nodded. It was distasteful, certainly, paying that man for his help in transporting the means for Kabachetka’s sorcery, but the Merchant had done the work as agreed.

  “MacDoig is making a fine profit from the MacRinnalchs,” noted Sarapen.

  “We could decline to pay,” suggested Decembrius.

  Sarapen regarded Decembrius with annoyance.

  “The MacRinnalchs do not default on their debts,” he said, sharply. “Pay the man.”

  Merchant MacDoig would have been surprised to learn that several of the unfamiliar items he’d transported for Princess Kabachetka were for a new spell designed to penetrate the most skilfully wrought magical defences, and destroy any fabric that lay beyond them. Sarapen would also have been surprised. It was not something he had requested of her. Neither Sarapen nor the Merchant would have understood why the Princess had expended such effort in developing new sorcery just to destroy clothes.

  193

  The Enchantress and the Fire Queen were still at Moonglow’s flat when Dominil brought Kalix home. Dominil wanted to speak privately to Thrix and they withdrew into the kitchen to talk in low voices. Meanwhile Vex greeted Kalix enthusiastically.

  “You’re back! How was the leafleting?”

  “It was okay,” shrugged Kalix. “I got wet.”

  “And cold?”

  Kalix shrugged again.

  “Of course you got cold,” said Vex. “Probably so cold you wished you had a fine new pair of army trousers instead of these raggedy jeans you always wear.”

  Vex produced
a bag with a triumphant flourish.

  “I bought you a present!”

  Kalix was surprised.

  “What is it?”

  “It’s a surprise,” cried Vex. “It’s new army trousers like mine.”

  Kalix stared uncertainly at the bag.

  “Don’t you want to find out what the surprise is?” said Vex.

  “Is it army trousers?” said Kalix.

  “You guessed!” cried Vex, pleased. “Open the bag.”

  Kalix took out the trousers.

  “I got the skinniest size available,” explained Vex. “And I got a belt as well in case they weren’t skinny enough, you being so skinny and everything. Do you like them?”

  Kalix didn’t know if she liked them or not. It flashed through her mind that she would never even have considered buying Vex a present. She suddenly felt quite ashamed, and didn’t want to accept the gift.

  “I don’t need new trousers,” she said.

  Vex laughed.

  “You’re so funny. Let’s go to your room and try them on.”

  In the tiny kitchen Dominil was conferring with Thrix.

  “Mother is very impressed with what you’ve done for the twins,” said the Enchantress. “Are you actually going to take them to Scotland to vote for Markus?”

  “It is possible,” replied Dominil. “If they survive the gig.”

  “Survive it?”

  Dominil described her encounter with Decembrius in Camden. It was worrying news. Though it was no real surprise that Sarapen planed to attack the gig, the Enchantress had been so busy with her own affairs that she hadn’t anticipated it.

  “Why did Decembrius warn you?” wondered Thrix. “Is it some sort of trap?”

  Dominil didn’t think so.

  “I believe he is attracted to Kalix.”

  “Attracted to Kalix? He can’t be.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because she’s crazy.”

  “Perhaps Decembrius is attracted by her craziness,” suggested Dominil. “More likely, he is simply attracted to her youth and beauty.”

  “Maybe,” grunted Thrix. She was tired, and felt too old and haggard to enjoy hearing about her sister’s youth and beauty.

  “I don’t mind meeting Sarapen again,” said Dominil. “But he won’t be alone. The Mistress of the Werewolves had some wolves in London to protect the twins but the trouble in Scotland has forced her to withdraw most of them.”

  “Do you want me to come to the gig?” asked Thrix, frowning.

  “You do not appear keen,” said Dominil.

  “Well it could be a problem,” declared Thrix. “I’ve no idea what to wear.”

  Dominil looked rather coldly at Thrix.

  “I presume you could solve that dilemma with a minimum amount of effort.”

  Thrix stared back at Dominil.

  “Do you have absolutely no sense of humour?”

  “Very little, so I am informed.”

  “You must be having a great time with the twins.”

  “It is occasionally exasperating. Can you attend?”

  The Enchantress nodded. Really, she didn’t have any choice.

  “Mother would never forgive me if I let beautiful young Kalix get shredded by Sarapen and the Douglas-MacPhees.”

  Thrix opened the fridge and wrinkled her nose with distaste on finding that the only alcohol on offer was a large plastic bottle of cider. Unable to find a glass, she poured some into a coffee mug. She offered the bottle to Dominil and was a little surprised when the white-haired werewolf accepted. Thrix noticed how well cared-for Dominil’s hair was. It took an effort to maintain such long straight hair in such perfectly shiny condition. Thrix, who was vain about everything, was relieved to learn that Dominil was at least vain about something.

  Here, in the close proximity of the tiny kitchen, the Enchantress could almost feel the cold emanating from Dominil. Had anyone from outside observed the pair, they would have been astonished to learn that the golden, elegant and beautiful Thrix was a werewolf. But as for Dominil, it might not have been such a surprise.

  “Have you considered cancelling the gig?”

  Dominil told Thrix she had considered it, but decided against. If this gig was postponed, the opportunity would be lost, perhaps forever. Who knew what might happen in the next month to prevent the twins from playing again? In reality, Dominil was not being completely honest. It might have been possible to delay the event. The Mistress of the Werewolves might have been amenable, and changed her plans accordingly. But Dominil didn’t want to cancel the gig. She was eager to confront Sarapen.

  Dominil asked the Enchantress if the Fire Queen would accompany her. Thrix shook her head. Malveria would be attending the first night of the Sorceress Livia’s birthday celebration.

  “Don’t worry,” said Thrix. “I’ve enough power to repel Sarapen.”

  “I know,” replied Dominil. “Though I only require you to repel his werewolves. I intend to take care of Sarapen myself.”

  Kalix was pleased with her new combat trousers. She thought the straps were funny and she liked the big pockets at the sides.

  “I knew you’d like them,” said Vex. “You can wear them to the gig. If Gawain comes he’ll like them too.”

  Kalix immediately looked gloomy. Vex was puzzled.

  “What’s the matter? You can wear something else if you like. No need to get stressed about it.”

  The Fire Queen was happy when she climbed down from the attic. The ball gown was fabulous and most of her outfits were now completed. If the Enchantress kept working day and night then everything should be ready on time. Malveria raised her head, sensing the atmosphere around her, testing it for intrusive sorcery. She nodded, satisfied at what she found. Kalix’s pendant was doing a splendid job of hiding the clothes.

  “There is nothing stronger than a pendant of Tamol for hiding,” she muttered to herself. “It was an excellent idea of mine to give it to Kalix. It has all worked out well. Ah Moonglow, how are you today?”

  “All right,” replied Moonglow, attempting to smile. “A bit behind at college.”

  Malveria could discern that Moonglow was distracted, but did not enquire why. Moonglow’s aura was full of misery. It covered her like a shroud. Mixed in with the misery were feelings of resentment. And was that a hint of treachery? Very suitable, thought Malveria. No doubt Moonglow was intending to treacherously steal Daniel from his new admirers. Dominil and Thrix walked back through from the kitchen and Vex appeared from Kalix’s bedroom and suddenly the main room was again full of werewolves and elementals.

  “Would everyone like some tea?” asked Moonglow, politely. “Where’s Kalix?”

  “She’s being gloomy again,” replied Vex.

  “What did you do to her?”

  “Nothing,” protested Vex. “She’s just crazy. You know what werewolves are like.”

  The young Hiyasta noticed that there were two werewolves in the room, currently staring at her.

  “Hey, no need to look at me like that. Some of them are crazy. Moonglow, back me up. Wasn’t Markus crazy when you were going out with him?”

  Moonglow abruptly broke down in tears and fled from the room.

  “What?” demanded Vex, looking round her with pained innocence. “It’s not my fault if everyone just bursts into tears the moment I open my mouth. What’s the matter with them all? Is there anything good on TV?”

  “Come with me, niece,” said Malveria. “I wish to talk to you.”

  Vex was immediately suspicious.

  “Is this about your pink shoes? Because I really think it’s time to get over that.”

  “It is not,” said Malveria. “Now come with me to the palace.”

  As they materialised in the flower garden of small yellow flames, the Queen told Vex that she had a task for her.

  “Attend to my words closely. Have you forgotten your misery over Daniel?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Because I want you to ent
ice and fascinate a young man.”

  “Who?”

  “Daniel.”

  Vex looked confused.

  “Yesterday you wanted me to forget him.”

  “Well today I want you to fascinate him. Daniel is becoming more attractive and it’s time to increase the pressure. It must seem as if Daniel is the most desirable boy in the world. I want you to make Moonglow jealous.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “You do not have to understand. You simply have to do as I say.”

  Vex shrugged.

  “Okay. Do I get a reward?”

  “A reward? For carrying out the wishes of your benefactor?”

  “Well do I?”

  “No,” said Malveria. “You do not. Because I am not at all pleased with you.”

  The Fire Queen produced a scroll with a flourish.

  “Do you know what this is?” she demanded.

  “A shoe catalogue?” suggested Agrivex, hopefully.

  “It is not a shoe catalogue. It’s a report from your tutors. And a most shocking piece of reading it is in every respect. You are woefully deficient in all subjects. Never has the professor of history written in such agonised terms over one of his students. As for your mathematics tutor, the paper is still damp with his tears.”

  Agrivex looked defiant.

  “They’re all against me. It’s not fair.”

  “The only unfair thing is that your miserable self is inflicted on these most learned Hiyastas. Really Agrivex, this cannot go on. Your tutor of auras reports that you show no skill or application whatsoever. Do you appreciate how important it is for a Hiyasta to read auras? I am shocked that my almost-adopted niece is so deficient in this talent.”

  The Fire Queen put on her sternest expression.

  “Agrivex. You wish to attend the werewolf music event in four days time. If you do not show an immediate improvement in your interpreting of auras, you shall not go.”

  Agrivex’s mouth dropped open.

  “It’s not fair!”

  “Life is seldom fair,” replied Malveria. The Fire Queen raised her hand to silence the protesting Agrivex. “I have given you two tasks. Fascinate Daniel and improve your reading of auras. Now begone, and do not disappoint me, miserable niece.”