“Can’t you tell the Duke of the Black Castle you’ll throw him in the volcano if he speaks out of place?” suggested the Enchantress. “He is your subject, after all.”
“Impossible, dearest Thrix. Were I to do such a thing it would be said that the mighty Queen Malveria fears the tongue of Beau DeMortalis because she is poorly dressed. I would be sneered at in every corner of the realm. Besides, I rather like the Duke.”
“Wasn’t he your enemy during the war?”
“Yes, but I forgave him because he is always so impeccably dressed. And he is very good company. Really Thrix, you cannot send me to dance with the Duke while dressed in an inferior ball gown. I will be forced to abdicate, and flee the kingdom.”
Thanks to the efforts of Thrix and the other fashion designers who now attended Malveria and her rivals, most of their clothes were of an elegant and human style, but the gowns for the final evening, the great ball, were like nothing seen in the human world these days. Malveria had brought Thrix several paintings of such garments and they were extravagant items of lace, tulle, silk and satin, with great hooped skirts and flouncing bodices, belonging to a ballroom somewhere between Regency England, Gone With the Wind, and the realms of the fairies. Thrix had not flinched from the challenge of creating something special for Malveria. Unfortunately, she was now running out of time.
Thrix rose to her feet. It was time to display some confidence. More confidence than she really felt, which was something that Thrix often had to do.
“Malveria. The gown will be ready on time and it will be fabulous. Trust me, I’m your designer.”
Malveria was reassured. After all, Thrix had never let her down.
“You have not been…?” murmured Malveria. “Not that it is any of my business…”
“No Malveria. I’ve not been seeing Gawain. I ended it.”
This was not true, but the Enchantress had cleansed his aura so thoroughly from her body that not even Malveria could now detect it. Thrix had some of the clothes for the carnival night lying completed in the room next door. Knowing that it would cheer Malveria, and take her mind off the ball gown, Thrix suggested taking them over to Moonglow’s house before Zatek managed to spy on them here.
“You can try them on in the attic. And the shoes for the lunch time promenade on day three arrived from Italy.”
“The pink high heel sandal? I am trembling with excitement already,” said Malveria. “Let us hurry to the house of the young humans.”
As there were only a few clothes to carry, Malveria could teleport them. She set off enthusiastically but as they materialised in the attic the Fire Queen flinched.
“What’s the matter?” asked Thrix.
“This house. It has become a place of such tremendous misery. What has been happening to the young humans?”
“Perhaps the young werewolf’s eaten them,” suggested Thrix.
“Where are the new shoes?”
“Right here,” said the Enchantress, opening a box, while Malveria looked on eagerly.
“They’re gone!” exclaimed Thrix.
Immediately their darkest suspicions were aroused. No wonder there was such an aura of doom in the house. Princess Kabachetka had discovered their hiding place and stolen the clothes, probably murdering Daniel and Moonglow in the process.
“Their blood-soaked bodies are no doubt strewn around downstairs at this moment!” cried Malveria. “If we hurry we may save the shoes!”
The Fire Queen rushed downstairs and burst into the living room, ready to fight off the Princess. The Princess wasn’t there. Neither were Daniel or Moonglow, or Kalix. Sitting in front of the TV with a can of beer in one hand and a bag of crisps in the other was Vex. She was engrossed in 3rd Rock from the Sun. She wore a ragged brown flying suit that was so tattered it looked as if its original owner might have died in a plane crash. On her feet were the new high heeled sandals, a delicate shade of pink with a dainty ankle strap.
“Aarrgghh!” roared the Fire Queen. “You have stolen my new shoes! Did I not warn you of the dire consequences? Thrix, bring me a knife! I am going to sacrifice this girl right now!”
Vex looked round.
“Hi Aunt Malvie,” she said brightly. “Eh… is something wrong?”
“You villainous thief of shoes, I will kill you where you sit, you detestable, vile, obnoxious, odious - ” Malveria broke off. “What is that disgusting brown thing you’re wearing?” she demanded.
“A flying suit.”
“Why are you wearing such an appalling garment?”
Vex shrugged.
“I like it.”
Daniel arrived in the room, alarmed by the outcry.
“What’s happening?”
“I am about to sacrifice Agrivex for stealing my shoes. Bring me a knife immediately.”
“This is way too harsh,” protested Vex. “I didn’t do anything.”
“What do you mean you didn’t do anything, you imbecilic girl? You are wearing the shoes!”
Vex looked down at her feet.
“I like my boots better,” she said.
Malveria roared in frustration, again threatening her niece with instant death.
“It’s Kalix’s fault,” said Vex. “She made me do it.”
“Don’t lie to me, dismal niece. The werewolf did no such thing.”
Moonglow hurried into the room, wondering what was going on.
“My never-to-be-adopted niece is about to die!” cried Malveria. As she did so something fell from Vex’s pocket. The Fire Queen snatched it up and then reeled in shock.
“An earring? You stole my new earrings?”
“See, this is the mistake you always make, Aunt Malvie. The first suspicious sign and you just jump to the wrong conclusion. I never stole your earrings. I just borrowed them.”
“Why?”
“To see how they looked with the shoes. After all, you’re always saying you can’t really judge an accessory by itself.”
Thrix laughed. She couldn’t help herself. She had rarely seen a fashion combination as inappropriate as Vex’s tattered flying suit and the pink high heels.
“Anyway, it’s not my fault,” continued Vex. “Everyone here is lying around being miserable. I was bored. So I just thought I’d check a few of your new things. You know, see if they were suitable. Also, Kalix made me do it.”
“Will no one bring me a knife?” cried Malveria. “Daniel, fetch me your finest sacrificial implements immediately.”
Moonglow, rather fearing that Malveria was serious, hurried to divert her anger.
“Could I see them on?”
“What?”
“The shoes. They’re so delicate. They’re lovely.”
“I do not wear shoes that have been besmirched by my idiot niece!” said Malveria, still very cross.
“Well they just look ridiculous on her,” said Moonglow, wisely. “I really want to see them at their best advantage. Please try them on.”
“I want to see too,” added Daniel, who had no real interest in women’s shoes, but dreaded having to clear up the mess after Malveria sacrificed Agrivex on their living room carpet.
Malveria sniffed, pointing her nose in the air and refusing to co-operate. The Enchantress took the shoes from Vex and laid them beside Malveria. Then, to Moonglow and Daniel’s surprise, she muttered a spell which caused a mirror to appear in front of the Fire Queen, and altered the lighting in the room to show her off to her best advantage.
“I refuse to try them on,” said Malveria. “They have been befouled.”
“You should,” said Moonglow. “They’ll really suit you.”
Malveria was unable to resist any longer. She stepped into the pink shoes. She spoke a word which caused the straps to fasten round her ankles, then looked in the mirror. A great sigh of pleasure came from her lips. Of all the delicate, exquisite high heeled sandals in this world and the next, these were the best. Malveria forgot her annoyance. Tears of happiness formed in her eyes. She hugged th
e Enchantress.
“I love these shoes,” she said.
Daniel and Moonglow were relieved.
“Now that’s all sorted out how about some wine?” suggested Vex.
177
Dominil was puzzled. When she’d arrived in London, Beauty and Delicious had been a useless pair of intoxicated losers who never got anything done. By strength of character she’d dragged them back on course. Throughout this period, the twins had never been exactly moderate in their behaviour but they had at least made an effort. They’d drunk less, attended rehearsals, and worked on their songs. Everything seemed to be going well. Neither the violent incident at the rehearsal studio nor the intimidating visit by the Douglas-MacPhees had dimmed their enthusiasm for their music. So Dominil couldn’t understand why, now that she had finally got them the gig they so desperately wanted, everything had gone wrong again.
Their behaviour was now worse than ever. They were rarely in a fit state to pick up their guitars. Dominil just couldn’t account for it. No matter how she railed against them, they refused to make an effort.
“We’re musicians,” was all Beauty would say. “We don’t have to practice. It’ll be fine on the night.”
Dominil dismissed this. At this rate it wouldn’t be fine on the night. It would be a disaster. Dominil had her pride and she abhorred the thought of anything to which she had contributed being a disaster. Frustrated, the white-haired werewolf strode out into the falling snow and hurried through Camden. Pete the guitarist was surprised to find her at his door, though not as concerned as he once might have been. No one actually liked Dominil but the band had come to trust her. He invited her in. His front room, Dominil noted, was extremely untidy.
“Was it not the case that a week ago things were looking promising for the band?”
“Eh… yes,” replied Pete.
“Then why are Beauty and Delicious now acting in so destructive a manner? They refuse to do anything except drink and make fools of themselves. I cannot see any possible explanation for this.”
Pete had an idea of what the problem might be but hesitated to make a suggestion. He felt intimidated by Dominil.
“Well maybe…” he began, then paused.
“Speak up,” demanded Dominil. “If you are about to criticise me you may do so freely. After living with the twins I am used to it.”
“I wasn’t going to criticise you. You’ve been great. Really. I think it’s just that they get nervous. You know, they’re quite shy really.”
Dominil stared at him in disbelief.
“Nervous? Shy? Beauty and Delicious? Everything they do is designed to call attention to themselves.”
Pete shrank back a little.
“Well yes. But you know… they’re probably just overcompensating. They wouldn’t be the only people to do that. They were always like this before gigs. They’re scared in case they get onstage and no one likes them.”
“You mean they have stage fright?”
“Yes.”
Dominil considered this. Was it possible the guitarist was right? If so, it was something that Dominil had completely failed to take into consideration. It hadn’t occurred to her for a moment that the sisters might suffer from nervousness.
“They have no reason to be anxious. The band is sounding good and there is every reason to be optimistic.”
Pete shrugged.
“I don’t think that makes any difference really. You know how some people just worry anyway.”
“No.”
“You don’t?”
“It is not something with which I can easily empathise.”
“I can believe that,” said Pete.
Something in his tone caught Dominil’s attention.
“You think I am lacking in empathy?”
“If you go around saying things like it is not something with which I can easily empathise then it’s probably a sign that you can’t. And you always talk, you know, sort of formal.”
Dominil felt irritated.
“I did not come here to discuss my diction. What is to be done to bring the twins back to normality?”
Pete didn’t know. He’d seen this before, and as far as he remembered the twins kept on behaving badly till it was time to step onstage.
“And then they were all right?”
“Not really. The gigs were always a shambles.”
Dominil thanked Pete for his help. She had noticed before that for a young guitarist, Pete was fairly attractive. She could even have classed him as desirable, if she wanted. Not while she had work to do, however. She walked slowly back to the twins’ house, wondering what to do about their emotional fragility. There were less than three weeks left to the gig and Dominil was quite determined that it was going to be a success.
The Avenaris Guild was quite determined that it was going to fail. The Guild had managed to track down Dominil. One of their operatives who’d survived the fight at the rehearsal studio had happened to see her in Camden, handing out fliers, and taken one. It was on Mr Carmichael’s desk at this moment, and the small slip of paper had generated a great deal of activity. Plans were now being made for an attack on the gig.
It was reported that the white-haired werewolf had been accompanied by a girl who matched the description of Kalix. The presence of the werewolf princess made it a very important operation for the Guild. Despite this, nothing about it was entered on their computers. The Guild’s information officers believed that their system was now safe but Mr Carmichael’s intuition told him otherwise. Someone had hacked into their files recently. It might happen again. He gave instructions that all arrangements were to be made by word of mouth. A messenger was sent to Mr Mikulanec, informing him that his services would be required on the night. Yum Yum Sugary Snacks and all werewolves associated with them were going to be eliminated.
178
Kalix still lay on her bed with the quilt covering her head, refusing to engage in conversation with either Daniel or Moonglow. Even the relentlessly cheerful Vex failed to get through. They all wanted to talk about her problems but Kalix had had enough of talking.
Moonglow knocked on her door.
“Go away,” mumbled Kalix.
“Visitor,” shouted Moonglow.
“Go away,” repeated Kalix.
The door swung open and Dominil marched into the room.
“I need your help,” she said.
“Go away,” said Kalix.
“No,” said Dominil, calmly. Without asking Kalix, she opened the window.
“I do not like foul air,” she said, which Kalix found quite insulting.
“Is the air foul?”
“Yes. It stinks of laudanum and an unhappy werewolf.”
“I’ve been very unhappy,” admitted Kalix, and sighed. “I was in the park and - ”
“Yes, very well,” said Dominil, interrupting her. “Perhaps you can tell me about it some other time. At this moment I need your help.”
“What for?”
“The twins are suffering from a serious case of pre-gig anxiety.”
Dominil looked penetratingly at Kalix.
“I have no experience of anxiety. You are prone to it. I thought you might be able to suggest something.”
Kalix felt rather pleased at this. It was as if someone had come to her for help on her specialist subject.
“Why are they nervous?”
“Fear of failure, I believe. I’ve told them there is no point feeling anxious. Feeling anxious about an event won’t change the event. However, they do not agree. In fact they will not admit to being nervous at all, but I know they are. Perhaps if they’d just acknowledge it, it might help them to overcome it. Are you ready to leave?”
“Leave?”
“Of course. I need you in Camden.”
Kalix was perplexed. She had been determined to lie in bed being miserable until she died. Now Dominil wanted her to go to Camden. She was quite surprised to find herself on her feet, putting on her coat.
&nb
sp; “I really don’t know how to help the twins,” she said.
“Perhaps you will think of something. After all, you outwitted Sarapen when you rescued me, did you not?”
Kalix smiled. That was a good memory. They drove slowly north through the dense London traffic. The streets were damp and there were traces of snow on the pavements.
“Do you like the snow?” asked Kalix, suddenly.
“Yes. I do. When I was very young in Scotland I used to lie in it.”
“Were you hiding?” asked Kalix. “Because you’re so white you could hide in it?”
“Yes.”
Kalix thought about the young werewolf Dominil playing in the snow. She couldn’t quite envisage Dominil ever playing. Kalix found it easier to talk to Dominil than most people. She didn’t know why.
“I hated the castle.”
“I know.”
“Everyone gave me a bad time when I was there.” Kalix looked at Dominil. “Did that happen to you?”
Dominil shrugged.
“I was often on my own. But I preferred it that way.”
Kalix felt a sudden urge to tell Dominil about her problems. This was odd. When Daniel and Moonglow had encouraged her to talk, she hadn’t wanted to. As they slowly negotiated the busy junction outside the Houses of Parliament she told Dominil that she’d met Gawain.
“He’s got another girlfriend.”
“Did he say so?”
“No. But I knew. He didn’t deny it.”
Dominil was still a slow and careful driver. They crawled forward.
“Is it not some years since you’ve been together?”
“Yes.”
“Then it doesn’t seem strange that he’s formed another relationship. It may just be to ward off loneliness.”
“Do you think so?”
“What did Gawain himself have to say?” asked Dominil.
Kalix admitted she didn’t know. She’d run off before he had a chance to speak.
“That seems like a poor way to resolve a problem.”
“I suppose so. Do you think he might still be in love with me?”
Dominil turned to look at Kalix.
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