Curse of the Wolf Girl

by Martin Millar

  “Felicori is singing beautifully tonight.” The Fire Queen looked wistfully towards the great mansion. “Now help me break through Kabachetka’s barrier and return home.”

  “I don’t have any power. Kabachetka’s eclipse spell has robbed me of my werewolf power, and it seems to have weakened my sorcery as well.” Another tear rolled down Thrix’s cheek. She stared forlornly down at Easterly’s body. “He was going to take me to Milan in the summer—he had a house there.”

  Malveria wasn’t listening. She was wondering what she could possibly do to save her throne. She’d counted on Thrix lending her strength to the attempt to break through Kabachetka’s barrier. It seemed that that wouldn’t happen now. She’d have to fight her way through herself. Malveria knew she wouldn’t make it in time. By the time she burned her way through the blocking spell created by Kabachetka, Distikka would have overrun the Great Volcano and taken control. When Malveria finally returned, all she could expect would be to be blasted out of existence with the full force of the volcano.

  “But I will take her with me if I can,” she muttered, “and as many of her traitorous supporters as possible. The Fire Queen does not admit defeat and will go down fighting.”

  * * *

  Chapter 174

  The fundraising event had gone splendidly. Felicori was in excellent form, and the audience thrilled to his rendition of favorite arias mixed in with operatic obscurities of his own choosing. There had been a brief interruption when several members of the audience appeared to sicken simultaneously. A stout gentleman in a box, Baron MacPhee, was taken ill quite suddenly and had to be helped outside. Several other distinguished-looking members of the audience also left, but the interruptions were minor and didn’t spoil the occasion.

  In the front row, Verasa MacRinnalch felt extremely ill and remained upright through force of will alone. Along with the other werewolves present, the Mistress of the Werewolves had suffered the baleful effects of Princess Kabachetka’s spell, but she had refused to show any sign of suffering. She’d heard some noise behind her, as if other members of the audience might have left, but was unable to turn around to check for fear of collapsing. Verasa’s first thought was that some major outbreak of food poisoning had occurred, which would be bad for her event. But as the concert proceeded without major interruption, she realized that this was not the case. It was a relief, though at present she felt too ill to fully appreciate it. The seat beside her was empty, Markus had not come into the auditorium, and the annoyance she felt about that still remained, even in her sickened state.

  * * *

  Markus was prowling through the undergrowth, on the trail of Beatrice and Heather, when the sickness struck. He gasped, sank to his knees, and wondered how it was possible that there should be an eclipse of the moon at this moment, for Markus recognized the symptoms. But an eclipse was impossible of course, no matter how bad he felt. He might have remained where he was had he not at that moment caught the sound of another person being sick.

  “Beatrice,” he thought immediately, recognizing the sound. He’d heard Beatrice being sick before after she’d overindulged at a clan celebration. He crawled forward. Though his senses were dulled, he knew she was behind the next bush, with Heather beside her.

  “This is going to be a strange reunion,” he thought and attempted to drag himself forward. At that moment, another sound appeared, the sound of two men approaching through the trees. Two men who were trying to go quietly and failing, by werewolf standards.

  * * *

  Orion and Pictor came out of the fog in front of Heather and Beatrice.

  “They look sick,” said Orion.

  “They must be werewolves.”

  “Are you werewolves?” demanded Orion, a little dubiously.

  Neither of the distressed young females answered. The two hunters both drew weapons.

  “Albermarle wasn’t so stupid after all,” said Pictor.

  Markus attempted to transform, despite his illness. He was startled to find that he couldn’t. For a second, he quailed. To be suddenly unable to transform was a terrible experience for a MacRinnalch. The hunters raised their guns. Then Markus succeeded in doing what other werewolves that night had failed to do. Telling himself that he was the Thane and could not just let two clan members die without doing anything about it, he raised himself to his feet and jumped past the bush, directly at the two hunters, whose guns were pointing at Beatrice and Heather. Markus crashed into them. All three tumbled to the ground, and a gun went off, but as the hunters scrambled to their feet, Markus realized he couldn’t rise. The leap had used up all his energy, and he couldn’t move. He, Beatrice, and Heather were now easy prey for their foes.

  Chapter 175

  Vex came out of the sky like a shooting star and crashed to Earth right on top of Captain Easterly’s body.

  “Ew!” She dragged herself to her feet. “What’s all this blood? Why is Thrix crying?”

  “Probably because you landed on her recently deceased boyfriend, imbecilic niece,” replied the Fire Queen.

  “Oh. Sorry about that.” Vex’s eternal good humor had finally been worn out by the rigors of the journey. It was cold and hostile in the teleporting space, especially to one as unused to it as she. Her shoulders drooped. “I bumped my elbow,” she said, sadly. “And I think I lost my mittens.”

  Malveria loomed threateningly. “Explain yourself. Didn’t I instruct you not to come to Scotland? Did you go to see the werewolf band?”

  “Definitely not! I’m looking for Kalix.”

  Malveria glanced at Easterly’s body. “You’re in the right place. Why are you looking for her?”

  “Because she’s going to kill Dominil.”

  “Ah.” Malveria nodded. “So she found out.”

  “Have you seen her?”

  “She has been here. But forget Kalix for the moment.”

  “I can’t.”

  “You will. I need your assistance.”

  Vex looked surprised. It wasn’t often Malveria needed her. “What for?”

  “To save my kingdom.”

  “Oh. Do I have to do stuff?”

  “Yes.”

  “Will it be hard?”

  “Stop babbling and attend to me. What is this?”

  There was another flash of light, gentler this time, as First Minister Xakthan appeared in their midst. He was bleeding from a wound in his chest, and flames flickered around his hands. “Great Queen, I have found you at last! You must return immediately. The traitor Distikka is taking control of the volcano!” He shuddered. It was many hundreds of years since he’d made the journey to Earth, and he hadn’t liked it then. “I broke free to look for you. There is very little time left. Distikka is on the lower slopes, advancing with Commander Agripath’s regiments.”

  “Who defends the volcano?”

  “Only your personal guards, fifty or so, many of whom have fallen. And Duke DeMortalis, who fights with great courage.”

  Malveria raised an eyebrow. “Beau DeMortalis?”

  “He was in the area.”

  “Ah. The junior kitchen maid?”

  “I believe so.”

  “He never could resist a pretty face. Unfortunately I cannot return, First Minister. Kabachetka has somehow used MacRinnalch sorcery to block my path. Don’t look at the enchantress in that manner, it’s not her fault.”

  “What’s that noise?”

  “The opera. Mr. Felicori is in good form. How long till Distikka takes control of the whole volcano?”

  “Minutes. Without you to lead us and use the volcano’s power, we can’t hold out.”

  “I will make as much speed as possible, First Minister. Thrix will assist me. But her power also has been affected by Kabachetka, and I doubt we can arrive soon enough.”

  The First Minister drew himself up, nodded, and saluted. “I will return to give my life in the defense of the volcano. It has always been an honor to serve you.”

  “Thank you, First Ministe
r. But I hope you don’t have to give your life just yet. We must send a blood relative to defend the volcano, until I can return.”

  “But you don’t have any other relatives,” objected First Minister Xakthan. “You got rid of them all.”

  “And I still don’t regret it. But for the meantime, I must have one. Agrivex, prepare to become my niece.”

  “What?”

  “You’ve been through the pre-adoption ceremony already. I can make you my full niece now, with power of inheritance. You must return with the first minister, channel the power of the volcano, and hold out till I return.”

  Vex looked bewildered. “Will this involve fighting?”

  “It will. The enemy is at the gates.”

  “What gates?”

  The queen rolled her eyes. “I spoke metaphorically. Once Distikka reaches the top of the volcano, she will use her royal blood to control it. If that happens, we’re finished. You must take control of the volcano yourself and add your power to its defense.”

  Vex quailed. “I don’t know how to do that. I’ll be killed.”

  Malveria looked her not-yet-adopted niece in the eye. “Yes, very likely you will be. And I shall soon follow you into death. But we must try. Only you can buy me the time I need.”

  Vex sighed. “This really sucks. Just when I was doing so well at college and everything. I was so going to pass that exam.” She gazed sadly at her hands. “I wish I hadn’t lost my mittens. Okay, make me your niece or whatever, and I’ll do my best.”

  Malveria wasted no time on ceremony. She placed her thumbnail on her forearm and ripped the flesh. A mixture of blood and fire flowed from the wound. She pulled Vex’s face onto her arm and made her taste the substance.

  “Ew!” protested Vex. “This is really gross.”

  “You now share my blood. I pronounce you my official niece and heir.”

  “Do you have to drink my blood too?”

  “Mercifully not.”

  Vex and Malveria stared at each other, not really knowing how to say goodbye for what was probably the last time.

  “We should go,” said the first minister. “Agrivex, stay at my side. I can guide us to the volcano quickly.”

  Vex shrugged and stood next to him. Both he and Malveria snapped their fingers at the same time, and Xakthan and Vex disappeared from view, leaving Malveria and Thrix alone in the maze.

  “It’s odd how Kabachetka has outsmarted us again. Aren’t we more intelligent than her?” asked Thrix. “Is it possible we allow ourselves to be distracted by other things?”

  “I really can’t think of any.” Malveria touched Thrix on the arm. “Let me lend you some strength till the eclipse passes.”

  Thrix straightened up as a little of Malveria’s fire flowed into her body. Her nausea disappeared.

  “Now let us see if we can clear away the spell which prevents my return,” Malveria announced.

  Chapter 176

  Dominil supported herself by leaning against her car. At her feet, Albermarle’s body lay broken and bleeding, and in front of her, Kalix’s werewolf jaws quivered with anger. “You traveled here to kill me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “Gawain.”

  Dominil nodded slowly.

  “You admit you killed him?”

  “I do.”

  Kalix’s eyes were burning. Dominil’s were cold and black. The evening breeze threw a few strands of her long white hair across her face.

  “Change,” said Kalix.

  “There’s no point repeating that. I can’t till the spell wears off.”

  “Then I’ll wait.”

  The tense silence was too much for Kalix in her enraged state. She wanted more than anything to attack Dominil. Ever since she’d learned that Dominil was responsible for Gawain’s death, her rage had been growing, and the unexpected circumstance of Dominil being unable to change into her werewolf shape was infuriating her. And though she wasn’t thinking that rationally, it was even more annoying that her cousin wasn’t offering any explanation for her actions.

  “Why did you kill him?” screamed Kalix.

  “He attacked me.”

  “You’re lying!”

  “He attacked me,” repeated Dominil. “It was him or me. I chose not to let it be me.”

  Kalix abruptly lost control and struck Dominil across the face. Dominil fell to the ground. With the baleful spell still affecting her, she struggled to stay conscious. Kalix howled in anger and frustration. She couldn’t kill Dominil like this. No werewolf could take on their werewolf shape and kill another werewolf who was in human form. It would be dishonorable beyond measure. Dominil struggled to rise. Kalix struggled to control herself. Now there was the smell of blood from Dominil’s wound, further adding to Kalix’s madness. She smashed her paw into the hood of the car, denting it. “Change!”

  Dominil hauled herself to her feet and looked Kalix in the eye. “I’ll change as soon as I’m able to,” Dominil growled.

  Kalix growled back and inched towards her. She stank of her victims’ blood, and her jaws hung open. Everything about her surroundings was adding to her madness: Dominil, the dead hunter, the proximity of other werewolves who hated her, the cloying fog, and the music that still drifted over from Andamair House. “I hate this music.” Kalix shook her head as if to banish it.

  At that moment, Felicori began to sing again. “Si combattè, si vinse.”

  Kalix’s werewolf ears twitched. There was something about the tune that seemed familiar. She didn’t know why. She inched towards Dominil again but halted. Her ears were still twitching. “What is this tune? I know it.”

  Dominil regarded her quite calmly, it seemed, though she was facing death. “This? It’s from Numitore, by Giovanni Porta. An opera about Romulus and Remus who were raised by a wolf. Quite an obscure song. I haven’t heard it for a long time.”

  Kalix felt uncomfortable and didn’t know why. Something was nagging at the back of her mind. She tried to ignore the music and focus on Dominil. Maybe she didn’t have to wait till Dominil was a werewolf. Perhaps she could do it now. Her jaws opened wider. She closed them abruptly. Why did she recognize this tune from an opera she’d never heard of? “You sang it, didn’t you? When I was child at the castle?”

  “I believe so,” said Dominil.

  Kalix looked troubled and stared at the ground for a moment. She looked up at the night sky and then at Dominil. “Did you tell me stories about Robber Wolf and Baby Wolf?”

  Dominil nodded. “I’d forgotten that.”

  Kalix closed her jaws. For the first time, the fire in her eyes dimmed a little. “I couldn’t remember who told me those stories. It was you.”

  Kalix screwed up her face. The stories were her only pleasant memory from her whole childhood. In the whole hateful time at the castle, suffering from her father and the family, she could only remember one pleasant thing: the tales about Robber Wolf and Baby Wolf. Now it turned out that it was Dominil who’d told them to her. “Why did you tell me stories?”

  Dominil shrugged her shoulders a fraction of an inch. “You seemed like a lonely little child. I knew what that was like.”

  “Did I sit on your knee?”

  “Not quite. You sat next to me on the bed.”

  Kalix suddenly had a vivid memory of sitting next to the teenage Dominil, listening raptly while Dominil told her stories about Robber Wolf, Poor Wolf, and Baby Wolf. She had a brief urge to sit there again.

  To Dominil’s surprise, Kalix changed back into human.

  “I liked those stories.” Kalix suddenly felt overwhelmingly tired and sat on the ground. “Why did you kill Gawain?”

  “I had to. He attacked me. He’d been brooding for a long time, and he wasn’t thinking very clearly. The whole affair with you and your sister affected his mind. He ended up hating the clan. It was a mistake to visit him, but once I’d done it, I couldn’t get away without fighting.”

  Kalix felt her eyes go moist and b
linked to prevent them filling with tears. She thought about her childhood at the castle. It hadn’t been happy. Since she’d left, she didn’t seem to have managed to make things much better. The clan hated her, her family hated her, she was stupid and illiterate, she couldn’t eat properly, she suffered from anxiety and depression and never got anything right. Now she’d stolen money from Daniel and Moonglow to come here and kill Dominil, but she didn’t want to kill Dominil anymore. She didn’t want to do anything. Kalix felt herself sinking beneath a huge wave of depression and hung her head.

  Dominil could not quite bring herself to embrace the unhappy young werewolf but managed to put her hand on her shoulder.

  “Now there’s a charming sight,” came a man’s voice.

  “Dominil comforts crazy young Kalix,” added a woman.

  The Douglas-MacPhees stepped from the shadows.

  “You feel that spell, Dominil?” Duncan asked. “Powerful, wasn’t it? Where’d that come from? No matter, it’s gone now.”

  “So it has,” said Dominil, and transformed immediately.

  Duncan turned to Kalix. “Well, here you are in Scotland. Half the Great Council’s over there in Andamair House, and they’ll all be keen to see you. Would you like to walk over quietly with us, or should we drag you? Either way’s fine with us.”

  The Douglas-MacPhees advanced. Dominil stood in their way, but for once, Kalix wasn’t keen to enter into her battle madness, and remained on the ground, not even taking on her werewolf shape.

  Chapter 177

  That was quite a gig,” said Beauty.

  “Are the fire crews still here?”

  “I think they’ve left. The police are still asking questions though.”

  Yum Yum Sugary Snacks’ gig had turned into a riot; quite an achievement given the size of the venue.

  “You wouldn’t have thought there were enough people to cause that much damage.” Delicious drank from a bottle of beer, part of the small rider provided by the venue for the band. Neither sister could honestly say they regretted that their gig had ended in a riot. “It’s a shame Hamil and Adam got arrested.”