“He wants to see me,” said Kalix, quietly. “Dominil thinks I should go.”
“Do you want to?”
Kalix didn’t know if she wanted to or not. She’d been separated from Gawain for three years. When they’d been reunited, they’d had one day of happiness. Then everything had gone drastically wrong. It had all been too painful to bear. She didn’t know if she could stand opening the wound again.
“Do you still love him?” asked Moonglow.
“I’ll call Daniel and tell him it’s pizza time,” said Kalix, and she hurried from the room.
Chapter 15
The Douglas-MacPhees, Duncan and his sister Rhona, were waiting in the pub when Decembrius arrived. They were with a man Decembrius didn’t recognize, and although the bar was full with a lunchtime crowd, there was space around them. Even as humans, the Douglas-MacPhees looked tough: people who should be avoided. Douglas’s long hair was held in place by a black bandana. He wore a leather waistcoat that showed the wolf tattoo on his shoulder, and he was unshaven for several days. Rhona wore a battered leather jacket. Neither smiled as he approached. Decembrius glanced at their companion.
“Our cousin William.”
“He’s almost as big as Fergus,” said Decembrius.
Rhona scowled at the mention of her late brother’s name. It was a touchy subject. Decembrius had once fired a silver bullet into Fergus’s shoulder. Though it had been accidental, it was a taboo action that might have gotten him expelled from the clan had other, weightier matters not been occupying them at the time.
“Poor Fergus,” said Duncan. “Never seen a werewolf in such pain.” He laughed and didn’t seem particularly annoyed at the memory. He leaned forward. “At least you didn’t kill him.”
There was an intense silence.
Rhona was the first to break it. “We’re looking for Kalix.”
“We thought you might know where she was,” added Duncan.
Decembrius eyed each of them in turn and sipped at the beer William brought to the table. William, he noted, was cast from the same mold as his cousins. No doubt he was just as vicious and unlawful as they were.
“Why do you want to find her?”
“She killed Fergus,” said Rhona.
“There were a lot of werewolves killed that day,” said Decembrius, “but the clan’s at peace now.”
Rhona leaned forward. Her hair, spilling from her bandana, was thick and black. When she spoke her Scottish accent was very strong, like her brother’s.
“I thought you’d be keen to help us. She killed Sarapen too.”
“They’ve all made peace in Scotland,” repeated Decembrius.
The Douglas-MacPhees laughed. Their newest associate, cousin William, had a deep bellowing voice, matching his frame, and his laughter made the table vibrate.
“You think so?” growled Duncan. “Marwanis MacRinnalch hasn’t made peace. Nor Red Ruraich MacAndris and his clan.”
“And the new Baron MacPhee isn’t a peaceful sort of werewolf,” added Rhona. “There’s quite a lot of people don’t like Markus as Thane.”
“I don’t like him myself,” countered Decembrius. “That doesn’t mean there’s anything to be done about it. The Great Council supports him. No one’s going to start another war over it.”
“Who said anything about starting a war?” growled Duncan. “We don’t care who leads the MacRinnalchs. A plague on the Thane, whoever he is. We’re talking about revenge on Kalix. No one can find her since the enchantress gave her the pendant that hides her. She has no scent to track. But that doesn’t mean she can’t be found. We could use Gawain to lead us to her.”
The Douglas-MacPhees stared at Decembrius.
“So what about it?”
Decembrius took a while to reply. He’d been thinking much the same himself. Gawain might well lead an inquiring werewolf to Kalix. “I don’t know where Gawain is,” he said, finally.
“But you’ve got powers of seeing, have you not?”
Decembrius gave a slight nod. Though his powers had all but disappeared, he didn’t intend to let the Douglas-MacPhees know about it.
There was a burst of raucous laughter from the table by their side, where a group of office workers were having some refreshment before heading back to work. Duncan scowled in their direction. The last time he’d been in this bar, it had been an old establishment, dilapidated and comfortable. Now it had been modernized, smartened up, and he didn’t feel at ease. “I don’t know why they can’t just leave these pubs the way they were,” he muttered.
“So can you find Gawain or not?” demanded Rhona, impatiently.
“Maybe,” replied Decembrius. “If I wanted to. But I don’t know that I want to.”
“Why not?”
“I’m a member of the Great Council now. I’m not going to be the one who starts trouble again.”
“He’s a member of the Great Council,” said Rhona, mockingly. “He’s important.”
Duncan and William laughed, though their laughter was drowned out by the increasing hilarity at the next table, where the office workers seemed to be celebrating someone’s birthday. Duncan pulled out a wallet and opened it to reveal a think wad of banknotes. “I don’t imagine you’re so well off these days, not being on Sarapen’s payroll any longer.”
Decembrius didn’t care one way or the other about Gawain, but he had no intention of doing anything that might lead the Douglas-MacPhees to Kalix. He’d once witnessed the Douglas-MacPhees trying to kill the young werewolf, and it wasn’t something he wanted to see again. “I can’t help you,” he said abruptly.
William glared at him scornfully. “I don’t believe he’s got any seeing powers at all,” he said to the others.
The atmosphere soured. Decembrius prepared himself in case there was violence. Intimidating as the Douglas-MacPhees were, he didn’t intend to back down.
“Never mind,” said Duncan, and he grinned, showing a set of teeth that were very white and rather large and sharp. “We’ll find Gawain ourselves. He’s probably still wandering around south of the river.” Duncan picked up his wallet again. “There’s something else you could do for us, if you’re not too scared of offending the Great Council. We need someone to visit the merchant.”
“MacDoig?” Decembrius knew Merchant MacDoig. All the MacRinnalchs did.
“We’ve got some goods the merchant might like to buy. Unfortunately—” Duncan paused for a second. “It’s a little awkward for us to visit him these days.”
“A small misunderstanding,” added Rhona, “when he got the impression we were trying to make off with some of his belongings.”
The Douglas-MacPhees laughed.
Decembrius could imagine that they’d have been interested in the merchant’s belongings. He tended to have valuable items around. The merchant was well protected, however. He’d lived long enough and dealt with powerful entities in his time, and he was generally believed to own various spells, or talismans, which kept him safe, even from the likes of the Douglas-MacPhees.
“So, if you could see your way to visiting the merchant’s shop in Limehouse and offering him certain items, we’d cut you in,” offered Duncan.
Decembrius leaned forward. He was short of money. Acting as go-between in a transaction with the merchant didn’t sound like such a bad thing to do.
“What are these items?” he asked.
“Books. Old books. Old enough to be valuable, we reckon. From one of London’s many institutes of learning. It wasn’t what we were looking for, but we don’t like to pass up an opportunity.”
Decembrius nodded his understanding. No doubt the Douglas-MacPhees could easily have gotten rid of the stolen electrical goods, or drugs, in which they normally traded, but antiquarian books were a different matter.
“I’ll do it,” he said, partly because he needed the money, and partly because he felt like he should keep in contact with the Douglas-MacPhees in case they did manage to find Gawain, who then would lead them to K
alix.
* * *
Decembrius walked home, deep in thought. Though he had no intention of helping the Douglas-MacPhees, he was already wondering how he might find Gawain. It irritated him that Gawain had access to Kalix and he didn’t. He wondered if he could discover where Gawain lived and force him to divulge information. Perhaps, if he really turned his mind to it, his old powers of seeing might reveal something about Gawain’s location.
When he arrived home, there was a message on his answering machine from his mother Lucia, urging him to come to Scotland for the next meeting of the Great Council. Decembrius ignored it. He poured himself a small glass of the clan whisky and drank it quickly then sat down to think some more about how to find Gawain.
Chapter 16
As Daniel, Moonglow, and Kalix waited for their pizzas, there was a sudden flash of light. Queen Malveria appeared, bringing with her the aroma of jasmine. It was another potentially startling event to which they’d now become accustomed. The Queen of the Hiyasta Fire Elementals had been a frequent visitor to their house a few months ago.
“Greetings, young humans! How splendid to see you again. Excuse me for not ringing the bell, as is the polite custom, but I noticed a young man on a motorbike, with boxes, and suspected he was about to visit you with food. I did not wish to distress him by materializing suddenly. I have been interrogating Agrivex.”
Moonglow was alarmed at the thought of an interrogation. “She really hasn’t been doing anything wrong.”
“So she insists,” agreed the queen, “but I needed to satisfy myself as to her behavior. One does not wish to learn that she has caused any of her tutors to fling themselves out of windows in despair.”
“She seems to get on well at college,” said Moonglow.
The queen nodded. “So she tells me. Indeed she claims to have obtained a gold star for a poem. I understand that this is a good sign?”
“Eh…yes,” agreed Moonglow.
“Has she committed any outrages in your house? Destroyed items of value?”
Daniel and Moonglow assured the queen that Vex hadn’t destroyed anything.
“That is a surprise,” said the queen, “but perhaps the abominable niece will astonish us all and not create chaos. Very well.” She snapped her fingers, summoning Agrivex back from her dimension.
“Agrivex. The young humans inform me that you have behaved yourself. So you may continue with your program.”
“Fantastic!” yelled Vex. “Can I have—”
“You cannot have new boots. It will take more than a few days of good behavior to earn such a reward.”
Just then the doorbell rang, and Daniel went downstairs to collect their pizzas. Moonglow offered Malveria a cup of tea, which she accepted. The queen appreciated the care Moonglow took over her tea, making it in a pot, then serving it in delicate cups, with a small jar of milk and a jar of sugar on a tray.
“How have you been?” inquired the queen. “And have you noticed my most fabulous mid-evening ensemble?”
“It’s lovely,” said Moonglow. Despite her own preference for black clothes and dark makeup, Moonglow did appreciate the fashionable garments that Thrix created for Malveria. The queen could tell that Moonglow was sincere, and it pleased her.
“It was something of a triumph. The dress, shoes, hat, and matching bag were noted by all to be a remarkable achievement. But this is not the whole reason for my excellent mood. I have been to the opera!”
With that, the queen began humming an air, something neither Daniel nor Moonglow could remember happening before.
“It was such a splendid experience! I am amazed I have never been before! Such music and costume! Such glorious scenes!” The Fire Queen broke off to hum a little more. Moonglow had pulled out a seat at their small table, but Malveria showed no inclination to sit down.
“So great was my enthusiasm that I found myself in sympathy with a rather oversized man,” continued Malveria, “called Falstaff, I believe. Are you familiar with him?”
“Yes,” said Moonglow, who knew Falstaff from Shakespeare, though not from the opera.
“How I laughed at his antics! The scoundrel attempted most basely to seduce respectable women in a scandalous fashion, but I could not be completely out of sympathy with his efforts, as he had such a beautiful voice. And he was handsomely dressed, in a manner which made the best of a bad job, as it were. One wishes that he had been less generously proportioned, but even so I was prepared to support his endeavors.” The Fire Queen paused and looked thoughtful. “It has to be said that the women he was attempting to seduce were not of the most slender figures either and would have benefited from the strict regimen of diet and exercise with which Malveria continues to gladden the hearts of her subjects by remaining the slenderest of queens. Nonetheless, they also had most beautiful voices. After the performance, I went with Thrix to a place called ‘backstage,’ and I met the large singer who was Falstaff! He has a wonderful voice, that Mr. Felicori!”
“Felicori?”
“An Italian. Thrix’s mother is staging a singing event in Scotland, for charity, and wishes Mr. Felicori to appear there.”
Malveria sat down gracefully at their table, not displeased to rest her feet. The heels she was wearing, while extremely stylish, were far from comfortable, though that was something she would never have admitted. Daniel meanwhile was distributing pizza. Next to him, Kalix, in her werewolf form, ate hungrily. At the mention of her sister, a scowl had appeared on her face, but she remained silent.
“My dear friend the enchantress was supposed to impress and seduce Mr. Felicori. But impressing and seducing are not her strongest points. When a bold advance is called for, she has a tendency to hang back.”
“Did she really want to seduce him?” asked Moonglow, who, knowing Thrix, couldn’t quite imagine it.
“In the sense of forming a sexual relationship with him, no,” admitted the Fire Queen. “But in the sense of persuading him to oblige the Mistress of the Werewolves, yes. As I understand it, Mr. Felicori has many calls on his time, and it is not easy to make him agree to such an engagement. Fortunately for all, I took matters in hand, brushed his admirers out of the way, confronted the great singer, and made a strong case to him that he should agree to appear in Scotland.” The queen smiled at the memory. “Mr. Felicori was favorably impressed, I assure you. It was a service I was pleased to do for my good friend Thrix, even though—” Malveria’s expression clouded slightly. “Even though I, of course, will not be welcome at the event.”
Moonglow nodded. She remembered that the Hiyastas and the MacRinnalch werewolves were historical enemies and had fought each other in the past. No Hiyasta would be welcome at a MacRinnalch event.
“Would you like a Pop-Tart?” asked Moonglow, to cover Malveria’s disappointment.
“I would love a Pop-Tart,” replied Malveria. “Though only one, as I am on a strict health regime. I must look fabulous for next month’s important sacrifice on the Great Volcano. One cannot disappoint one’s adoring subjects by turning up with unwanted extra poundage. Word would reach Princess Kabachetka, and she would spread it around all the realms in no time.”
“Are you still rivals with Princess Kabachetka?” asked Moonglow.
“I am indeed. The ladies—I use the term loosely—of the Hainusta court are due to visit my realm shortly, and while I have no fears of being overwhelmed by Kabachetka’s shoddy attempts at fashion, my intelligence services tell me that she has been studying whist most assiduously. No doubt she hopes to embarrass me at the card table.” The queen looked troubled. “Embarrassment is a possibility. My partner, the Duchess Gargamond, has a tendency to reckless play, thereby leading us into ruin and catastrophe.”
The queen nibbled on her Pop-Tart and suddenly noticed Moonglow’s fingernails, which had been varnished matte black, overlaid with silver stars. “How very original!” she exclaimed. “Who is your nail polish assistant?”
Moonglow didn’t have a nail polish assistant. S
he’d done it herself. The queen was impressed at the girl’s talent. Really, it all seemed like a trial, living in this small apartment without even a servant to make life easier, but the girl seemed to manage. The Fire Queen admired her for it. Moonglow was attractive, enterprising, and sympathetic. It was no wonder that young Daniel was so besotted with her. With her skill in reading auras, Malveria could tell quite easily that Daniel’s romantic hopes had been disappointed. His romance with Moonglow, which had once, unexpectedly, threatened to flare into life, was now dead. Malveria was satisfied. Though Daniel didn’t know it, Malveria herself had been instrumental in thwarting his hopes. The queen liked Daniel, but she didn’t see friendship in quite the same way that people did, and the Fire Elementals had never entirely lost their appetite for tormenting humans.
Malveria took a small mirror from her handbag and studied her lips. She sighed loudly. “Once more my lip gloss lets me down. Though this product absolutely swore that it would not fade, it is now wearing off. The bold crimson has dimmed to an unalluring pink. Do you have a solution to this, Moonglow?”
Moonglow didn’t. She’d suffered with fading lipstick herself, and she entered into a prolonged discussion with the queen about the iniquities of makeup manufacturers who falsely promised their lipstick would last all night.
Chapter 17
Princess Kabachetka didn’t enjoy the state banquet given in honor of her brother Prince Esarax on his promotion from colonel to general. She was bored by the series of long speeches about her brother’s many fine qualities. As applause for Prince Esarax rang out around the stateroom, she turned to her lady in waiting, Alchet, and complained about the night’s events.
“It’s not like he’s just won a war or anything. All he did was get promoted. Hardly that difficult when your mother is the empress.”
“He’s very popular with the army,” said Alchet.
“Who cares about the army?”
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