He walked on for a while then hesitated, unsure of his direction. He scowled and cursed silently. “I’m not supposed to get lost. I’m a werewolf,” he thought.
But lost he was. There had been a time when Decembrius could track anyone anywhere, always knowing by instinct where he was. Now he found himself wandering around looking for any street or building that looked familiar. Eventually he was obliged to go into a small tourist shop and buy a street map of London, an experience that he found rather embarrassing. He opened it as discreetly as he could, huddling in a doorway, checking his directions, and trying not to look like a tourist.
Chapter 12
In the lair of Baron MacPhee, Marwanis MacRinnalch was courted by both Wallace MacGregor, the baron’s son, and Lachlan MacGregor, the baron’s chief advisor. Marwanis had no interest in her suitors. She wanted revenge for the death of Sarapen, whom she had loved.
“Sarapen was murdered. He was the eldest son of the Thane. The clan should take revenge, but it won’t because the clan is run by accomplices to his murder. His family should take revenge, but it won’t because his family were the killers. The Great Council should take revenge, but it won’t because the council is dominated by his murderers. There’s no one to take revenge for Sarapen’s death.” Marwanis raged against the injustice of it. “The Thane, the Mistress of the Werewolves, and their lackeys on the council might think they can forget that Kalix killed Sarapen. I’ll show them they can’t. I’ll see Kalix dead for it if it’s the last thing I do.”
Lachlan MacGregor was troubled. He’d hoped that here, in the house Baron MacGregor had provided for Marwanis on his estates in the Rinnalch hills, far to the north of Castle MacRinnalch, Marwanis might start to forget. Like many of the MacGregor werewolves, Lachlan had supported Sarapen. But he was dead now, and the feud was over.
“There’s no point in more bloodshed,” Lachlan declared.
“No point if you’re a coward in a clan of cowards who’ll lie down and roll over for Markus and his mother,” said Marwanis. “You make me sick, all of you. And if none of you are prepared to do what should be done, I’ll find some werewolves who are.”
Lachlan had the uncomfortable feeling that there might be plenty of werewolves prepared to do what Marwanis wanted. Marwanis wasn’t a warrior or even particularly strong by the standards of the werewolf clan, but she was much admired and persuasive. Marwanis had long been the most popular of the younger werewolves who made up what could be termed the MacRinnalch ruling family. In contrast to Thrix, who’d abandoned the clan to seek fame in London; Butix and Delix, who’d departed to bring shame on the clan with their degenerate lifestyle; and Dominil, with her notoriously hostile demeanor, Marwanis was a symbol of MacRinnalch tradition: respected, respectful, elegant, and almost everything that a proper werewolf should be.
The older werewolves, and many of the younger ones too, didn’t approve of those who left home in search of excitement. It was a danger to the clan and shouldn’t be encouraged. It was something of a blemish on the reputation of even such a renowned werewolf as Verasa MacRinnalch that her children had not turned out as respectably as Marwanis.
There was no need to make comparisons with Kalix, of course. Kalix was universally regarded as mad and beyond redemption.
Marwanis, for all her respectability, had refused to declare peace after the feud was over. She’d stopped attending meetings of the Great Council. She asked Lachlan if he could put her in touch with the Douglas-MacPhees, and though Lachlan was troubled at the thought, he nonetheless did as she asked. Marwanis made contact with them, arranged to meet, and then wondered who else she might recruit in her quest for revenge against Kalix.
Chapter 13
Dominil drove Kalix back to Tottenham Court Road tube station where Kalix caught a late train to Kennington. She had a fresh bottle of laudanum in her pocket and kept her hand on it. As Kalix journeyed south, she was deep in thought, oblivious to the passengers around her. The attack by the werewolf hunter hadn’t troubled her unduly, but Gawain’s letter had. Kalix wished she’d been able to formulate some sort of question about Gawain that Dominil might have been willing to answer, but Dominil had been characteristically unforthcoming. Dominil was focused on helping the twins’ band and had no time for Kalix’s problems.
As always, Kalix’s recent change into werewolf shape had invigorated her. She drew strength from it, and it showed. These days she was quite a striking figure. The current generation of female MacRinnalchs were noted for their beauty. Dominil, Marwanis, Beauty, and Delicious all caused heads to turn. The seventeen-year-old Kalix was perhaps the most beautiful of them. She was skinny, waif-like, with thick, dark hair flowing down to her waist. Her eyes were large and very dark, and she had an unusually wide mouth, characteristic of the MacRinnalch women. Now that she was looking after herself better, her complexion was clear, and the dark shadows under her eyes had disappeared. As some of the passengers eyed her surreptitiously, they wondered about her. Why, for instance, was such a beautiful young girl dressed so shabbily, in an old coat, an oversized shirt, and boots that were falling apart? Was she too poor to buy clothes? Or just following some trend for ragged garments? A fashion student making a statement, perhaps? It was difficult to say.
Kalix stared at her feet, unaware of the attention. The news that Gawain wanted to see her was monumental. Her mind raced in all directions. In the past few months, she’d felt every possible emotion towards Gawain, from the deepest, most painful yearning to savage, murderous fury. Gawain, the son of a very respectable werewolf family, had once been her lover. Her lover at far too young an age for the family’s liking. Kalix’s father, the Thane, had banished him from the castle, exiling him from the clan. It was this that had finally tipped the troubled young Kalix over the edge, leading to her madness, her attack on the Thane, and her own exile. In the three years they’d been apart, Kalix had never stopped thinking of Gawain. When they’d finally met, thrown together by the chaotic events that followed the Thane’s death, it had not gone the way either of them planned. Gawain, believing himself to be rejected by Kalix, had become involved in an affair with Thrix, Kalix’s older sister. To Kalix, this had been a staggering act of betrayal. She’d probably have attacked them both had she not simultaneously been plunged into battle with her elder brother Sarapen and his supporters. By the time the ferocious combat was over, Sarapen was dead at Kalix’s hands. Sarapen, the strongest and fiercest werewolf in the country, had been unable to overcome her.
Afterwards Kalix had been too drained to think of anything. Gawain had survived, badly wounded. He’d limped off without speaking to anyone. Though Kalix had seen her sister Thrix since, she’d never raised the matter of the affair with her ex-lover. It was too painful. She’d been miserable in a way she thought would never end. Though the raw wound had lessened a little over the past few months, it hadn’t gone away. Kalix still yearned for Gawain but now it was more hurtful, with the image of Thrix mixed in with it. Sometimes she still felt like killing them both. Other times she wished she could just be back with Gawain, forgetting all their troubles. Occasionally she wished she’d never met him in the first place.
Now Gawain wanted to meet her. Kalix didn’t know what to think. She felt a familiar anxiety creeping up on her and wished she could drink some laudanum here in the underground. Kalix was frequently plagued by anxiety. Any unusual event could trigger it. She felt her palms go moist and began to fear that she might have a panic attack right now. She clenched her fists and tried to ward it off.
When the train eventually pulled into Kennington station, Kalix rushed off, barging her way past people and running up the escalator, desperate to be above ground. As she reached the outside world and felt the night and the moon above her, she felt a little better. She had an urge to take on her werewolf shape for comfort, but there were still too many people around. So the young werewolf hurried on towards the flat she shared with Daniel and Moonglow, where she could retire to the privacy of
her own room, drink laudanum, curl up on her bed in her werewolf shape, and perhaps stop feeling anxious about the letter from Gawain.
Chapter 14
In Daniel and Moonglow’s small flat above an empty shop in Kennington, an unfashionable part of South London, Daniel was stressed. Exams were not far away. Having turned in some fairly acceptable coursework, he was approaching them in better shape academically than he might have been if he hadn’t had extensive help from Moonglow. Without her, he’d have been sunk already, which he freely acknowledged. Nonetheless, he railed against his fate. Surely this system of exams was antiquated and out of place in the modern world?
“Don’t they want us to be fully developed, capable of tackling problems in a non-conventional way?” he complained.
“Possibly,” replied Moonglow. “But you still have to pass your exams.”
“It’s ridiculously old-fashioned. You’d think we were stuck in the eighteenth century or something.”
Moonglow looked up from her book. “Study,” she said, “and stop complaining.”
Daniel made a face and tried to reapply himself, meanwhile thinking harsh thoughts about the novels of George Eliot, which he’d never particularly taken to. Both young students sat at the table in the living room, studying, but the silence lasted only for a few minutes.
“It’s not a fair system. Look at all these other students with nothing to do except study. Then think of the problems we’ve faced. We have a werewolf to look after.”
Moonglow smiled. It was a reasonable point. They did have a werewolf to look after. Since meeting Kalix they’d had a lot of distractions. They’d found themselves pitched into the middle of a ferocious war, an affair that involved not only Scottish werewolves but also strange beings from another dimension. The queen of the Fire Elementals had actually stored clothes in their attic. Surely no other students had encountered such difficulties.
“We haven’t had that many werewolf distractions recently,” Moonglow pointed out. “The feud’s over, and Kalix has been fairly quiet.”
Daniel was unconvinced. It still seemed unjust. “Anyone that has to look after a werewolf should get extra marks on the exam. It’s the only fair thing to do.”
Daniel’s tirade against the iniquities of the education system was interrupted as they heard the door slam downstairs.
Moonglow smiled as Kalix entered the room. “Hello, Kalix. You’re just in time for a tea break. We’ve been studying, and Daniel keeps complaining about everything.”
“I was just pointing out—”
Daniel halted. Kalix was gone. She’d barely acknowledged them before disappearing to her own room. “You still couldn’t say her social skills were great, could you?”
Moonglow shrugged. “Oh well. They’re better than they used to be.”
“Do you think she’s still upset about college?”
While Vex had professed to having a wonderful time at the remedial institution, they were both aware Kalix had still not shown any enthusiasm.
“I’m sure she’ll like it when she gets used to it.”
“I’m sure she won’t,” said Daniel. “I still expect her to eat her teachers. We’d better use the Mistress of the Werewolves’ money to pay the rent quickly before Kalix gets expelled. Verasa won’t send us any more after that.” He rose from the table. “Time for tea. I’ll put the kettle on.”
He wandered through to the kitchen. Though it had been rude of Kalix to barely acknowledge them, Daniel had already forgotten about it. Kalix’s emotions could be so extreme that a little rudeness was hardly noticeable. Mainly, he was preoccupied by Moonglow. It was time she started going out with him. It should have happened by now, and it could only be willful unreasonableness on her part that prevented it.
Suddenly moody, Daniel deliberately made a lot of noise washing cups, as if banging some crockery around might repay Moonglow for her lack of reasonableness. When he took the teapot back into the living room, he thumped it down quite violently on the table. Moonglow was immersed in a book and didn’t notice. Daniel glared at her then took a cup of tea towards Kalix’s room. He found Kalix sitting on the bed in her small, bare room.
“Cup of tea?” he asked, pleasantly. “Very refreshing for werewolves.”
Kalix smiled. Only a few months ago, Daniel had found Kalix’s werewolf nature terrifying. Now he could be lighthearted about it. Neither he nor Moonglow regarded it as very strange anymore.
Kalix had never regarded it as strange. She’d been born a werewolf and was proud of it.
“Moonglow is being completely unreasonable,” said Daniel, sitting down.
“Why?”
“She won’t be my girlfriend. Isn’t that the most unreasonable thing you’ve ever heard? I mean, we’re obviously well suited. I’m a far better alternative than the useless string of boyfriends she’s had. And you know, it was close to happening. Did you notice that? I definitely noticed it. There was a moment when Moonglow was right on the verge of being my girlfriend. And then something happened. I can’t understand it. It was like…”
Daniel stopped. He couldn’t describe what had happened, but something had. After the MacRinnalch werewolf feud ended, Moonglow had become very close to him. It seemed like any moment she would take Daniel in her arms and tell him he was the boyfriend she’d always yearned for. Perhaps not yearned, admitted Daniel. But they’d definitely been getting there. Then, abruptly, she’d backed away. Since then, Daniel had been unable to rectify the situation.
Daniel flicked his hair back from his face. At nineteen, he was finding life and romance increasingly frustrating.
“Seriously, how am I supposed to study for exams when Moonglow just refuses to acknowledge that I’m the boyfriend she needs?” he said, warming to the theme.
Kalix, not really interested in any of this, sat on the bed, staring at the letter in her hand.
“You’d think Moonglow would show a little human sympathy, and—”
Daniel stopped abruptly. Kalix had changed into her werewolf shape. Kalix didn’t have to transform—the change only came on automatically on the three nights around the full moon—but as a full-blooded MacRinnalch, she was able to take on her werewolf form any night she chose. Having changed earlier in the evening, confronting the hunter, she had a lingering werewolf appetite, which now needed to be satisfied. Kalix, who was never concerned with food when she was human, became very concerned with it when she was a werewolf.
“Need meat,” she said. In her transformed state, Kalix was half-wolf, half-girl, walking on two legs, but with a covering of shaggy fur, a wolf’s face, quite alarming jaws, and sharp-taloned paws. She brushed past Daniel, heading for the kitchen, where Moonglow had thoughtfully provided several joints of beef for her, all of which Kalix would now devour with enthusiasm, along with anything else she came across.
Daniel watched her go and felt hard done by. He was sharing a flat with a girl he loved who wouldn’t go out with him and an unsympathetic werewolf. He wished that Vex was around to listen to his problems. She wasn’t the best listener, but she was better than no one. Vex however, had been whisked back to the imperial palace by Malveria for interrogation about her first days at college. Suddenly depressed, Daniel retreated upstairs to his room to lie on his bed, play music loudly, and stare at the ceiling. He put on his new We Slaughtered Them and Laughed CD, in which he found some consolation.
* * *
Downstairs in the living room, Moonglow smiled as the young werewolf trotted by on her way to the kitchen. Kalix had such a poor appetite that it was a relief for Moonglow when she made the change into werewolf form and gorged herself on meat. As a vegetarian, Moonglow didn’t relish the sight of Kalix chomping her way enthusiastically through a side of raw beef and licking the blood off of her fangs, but it was certainly good for her health.
Kalix arrived back in the living room, still moving gracefully despite her cargo of meat. She was as agile as a cat and capable of extremely swift movement. “Meat,�
�� she said, sitting down at the table and licking her lips before taking a huge bite out of the joint.
“Is it good?” asked Moonglow.
“Mmm…good meat,” muttered Kalix, devouring it eagerly.
There had been a time when Kalix, on regaining her human form after the werewolf change, had been so upset at the thought of the food she’d consumed that she’d fall ill, vomit, and dissolve in waves of anxiety. After some months with Moonglow and Daniel, she seemed to have calmed down.
“Is there pizza?” asked Kalix, finishing the beef. Moonglow smiled again. When they’d first met Kalix, they’d had some trouble understanding her while she was a werewolf. Her strong Scottish accent, transmitted via her wolf jaws, could be difficult to comprehend. They were used to it now.
“I was just about to phone them,” replied Moonglow. “I’ll ask Daniel what he wants.”
“He wants you,” said Kalix.
Moonglow blushed and suddenly regretted Kalix’s less complicated werewolf emotions.
“That’s why he’s sulking in his room. Because you won’t go out with him. Why won’t you go out with him?”
Moonglow was flustered and didn’t know how to reply. Even if she’d wanted to be Daniel’s girlfriend, something of which she wasn’t sure, she couldn’t. It would be complicated to explain though, particularly to Kalix.
“How was Dominil?” she asked, to change the subject.
“Okay,” said Kalix. Her face fell. She pawed at the string that had wrapped her joint of beef. “Gawain sent me a letter,” she said, suddenly, then looked down at her plate.
Moonglow nodded. It wasn’t a surprise that the letter had come from Gawain. Kalix had loved him dearly. He’d loved her too, apparently. Enough to be banished from the clan. Though not enough to stop himself from having an affair with her sister, something of which Moonglow heartily disapproved. It had driven Kalix mad when she’d learned of it; later she’d settled into a dull depression and refused to speak about it.
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