“Speak to him? About what?”
Kalix looked awkward, and didn’t say anything.
“You want me to find out about his new lover? Perhaps discover if he still cares for you?”
Dominil stared at Kalix for a few moments. Kalix felt stupid, and wished she hadn’t mentioned it.
“Very well,” said Dominil. “I’ll talk to him. Are you expecting him to come to the gig?”
Kalix didn’t know. She didn’t really know where she expected Dominil to meet Gawain.
“I think he’ll be there,” said Dominil. “He’s been watching you closely enough. I’ll speak to him.”
Kalix was grateful. Dominil turned her head sharply. She’d sensed another werewolf entering the bar. It was Decembrius. He caught sight of them and walked to their table. His red hair was wet, though slicked back as it was, the style remained unaffected. He wore sunglasses like Kalix’s and a long black leather coat not unlike Dominil’s.
“May I sit down?” he said, politely.
Kalix bared her teeth. The last time she’d seen Decembrius he’d been pointing a gun at her.
“But I avoided shooting you,” said Decembrius, as if reading her thoughts.
He took off his shades. Dominil observed that Decembrius’s pupils were slightly enlarged. That, and something about his manner, made her think for a moment that he was attracted to her. Dominil was interested in the notion. Decembrius was not unattractive. Even a hint of a relationship with him would outrage Sarapen. As she continued to study him, Dominil quickly perceived that she was not the object of his desire. Decembrius was doing his best to conceal it, but he was attracted to Kalix. Dominil felt mildly irritated, but dismissed it quickly.
Kalix sat in silent discomfort. Dominil asked Decembrius what he was doing here.
“Looking for entertainment,” replied Decembrius. He took one of their leaflets from his pocket. “I found this on the pavement.”
“Then you’d better run home and report it to your master,” said Dominil.
“Sarapen already knows about the gig,” said Decembrius.
“I do not imagine the music would be to his taste.”
“No, I don’t see him spending a lot of time listening to Yum Yum Sugary Snacks,” agreed Decembrius. “Are they any good?”
“They are excellent,” replied Dominil. “But your presence here is unwelcome. Leave.”
Decembrius showed no inclination to leave. He put his hand in his pocket.
“If you’re intending to produce a gun, I’ll break your neck before you can use it,” said Dominil, calmly.
Decembrius drew out a packet of cigarettes with an expression of exaggerated innocence, and lit one.
“Maybe you should cancel the gig,” he said.
“Why?”
“You won’t be safe.”
“Are you concerned for our safety?”
Decembrius shrugged.
“There’s no real need to fight. Sarapen will be Thane soon enough, whatever happens in London.”
“If Sarapen comes to the gig I’ll kill him!” exploded Kalix, so loudly that the people at the next table looked over with interest.
“Or he might kill you,” said Decembrius, and gazed at her. Kalix glared back at him angrily. She hadn’t forgotten his mocking words when he’d interrupted her encounter with Gawain. If he made another sneering remark like that she’d attack him. Though Decembrius didn’t seem to be here to mock her. She didn’t know why he was here. He stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray and rose smoothly to his feet.
“I don’t think you should go to the gig,” he said, to Kalix. “It’s not safe.”
With that he departed, leaving Kalix puzzled.
“Why did he come here?” she wondered.
“The poor way you treat yourself has dulled your werewolf senses,” answered Dominil.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean Decembrius doesn’t want you killed, apparently. Couldn’t you sense his attraction to you?”
Kalix was bewildered. It was always puzzling to Kalix that anyone would find her attractive.
“I don’t think you’re right,” she ventured.
Dominil almost smiled.
“I am right. Congratulations. You’ve made a conquest.”
Not liking that her hair had gone stringy from the rain, Dominil went off to brush it before they handed out more leaflets, leaving Kalix perplexed, and not at all pleased that Decembrius found her attractive.
189
Moonglow dragged herself into college. For the first time in her life she was behind with her work. Only two weeks ago she couldn’t have imagined this happening. Now, with her intense misery over Markus, she found it almost impossible to study. The freezing rain and sleet that assailed her on her way to college was nearly enough to send her home again, and she had to summon all her reserves of energy just to reach the building.
Moonglow’s life seemed to be getting worse. The pain over Markus was not diminishing and now Jay hated her as well. He had finally called round to her flat, demanding to know why Moonglow hadn’t been phoning him. Moonglow told Jay the truth. She was in no state to lie convincingly. Anyway, Moonglow didn’t really want to lie. She tried to say she was sorry but Jay was too irate to listen. He shouted at her, calling her names which Moonglow was surprised to hear from her once gentle boyfriend. Then he marched furiously out of her life.
In Sumerian history the Professor noticed her lack of concentration. Thinking it might be a good idea to encourage her, he asked Moonglow a simple question about the city of Nineveh. Moonglow didn’t answer. Instead she picked up her bag and ran out of the room in tears. The Professor was embarrassed as his other students looked accusingly at him, as if it was his fault for picking on Moonglow.
The canteen was quiet. Moonglow sat on a chair by the window that looked out onto the Thames and tried to compose herself. Other people coped with unhappy love affairs. She should be able to as well. Moonglow tried to make it easier by hating Markus but it was useless. She couldn’t hate him. She kept thinking how glorious he’d been as they walked round the art gallery, and afterwards when he took her home.
“Yes, it is very sad,” came a voice Moonglow didn’t recognise. She looked up. Facing her was a very striking woman, a little older than her, perhaps twenty-one or so. She had dazzling blonde hair and her eyes were deep green, quite startling in their way.
“What?” mumbled Moonglow.
“It is very sad to be discarded,” said the glamourous woman. Her accent was peculiar, not one that Moonglow had ever heard before.
“What do you mean?”
“To be left by a lover. It is the most tragic thing in this world, or any world.”
Moonglow stared at her.
“Who are you?”
“You may call me Kabachetka,” replied the woman, rather grandly. “Would you like him back?”
“Who?”
Princess Kabachetka chuckled, though her laugh was so low and muted it sounded almost like the purring of a cat.
“You know who I mean. Markus MacRinnalch.”
“How do you know about him?” demanded Moonglow.
“I know a great deal about the MacRinnalchs. A most vigorous clan of werewolves. And I would agree that Markus is one of the most beautiful. Would you like him back?”
Moonglow should have stood up and left. She’d had enough experience of the MacRinnalchs by now to realise that it wasn’t a good idea to discuss their affairs with a stranger. Somehow she didn’t feel like leaving.
“Could you bring him back?”
The Princess leaned forward, and smiled seductively at Moonglow.
“Yes. I could. But first, please tell me about Malveria’s clothes.”
190
The Fire Queen presented the Enchantress with a small cedar box, inlaid with gold.
“I thought you might like this. A good receptacle for those sorcerous herbs which need to breathe.”
It was a bea
utiful item. The Enchantress was rather surprised. Gift-giving was not something that Malveria often did.
“From the realm of the Hiyasta?”
“No, Camden Market,” said Malveria. “Though the place is full of unpleasant stalls selling quite shocking garments, I discovered that there were several more agreeable shops in the side streets. Do you like it?”
“It’s lovely. Thank you.”
“I was shamed into the purchase by my idiot niece,” admitted Malveria. “She seemed to think it necessary to buy presents.”
Malveria’s frankness made Thrix smile.
“I was rather taken aback by her eagerness to purchase gifts. A most un-Hiyasta like quality, though only to be expected from the sort of dismal girl who is now experimenting with thirty shades of nail varnish, and wondering if it might be a good idea to grow more fingers. She bought presents for the daughter of the First Minister, for Kalix, and for me. As I was paying for all this, it was perhaps not the most unexpected gift one has ever received, but I appreciated the thought.”
“What did she buy you?” asked Thrix.
“A most unsuitable necklace comprising several small axes on a chain. However, I count myself fortunate to have escaped without receiving a sturdy pair of motorcycle boots.”
“It sounds like you had a good day,” said Thrix, smiling.
“A good day?” Malveria shuddered. “You quite misunderstand me. Walking around that endless market with Agrivex was most exhausting, I assure you. And do not forget the additional stress caused by the knowledge that every time she halted, it was to buy some even more appalling garment or vile trinket.”
Malveria winced at the memory, and gratefully accepted both coffee and whisky from Thrix, who took the bottle from her office cupboard and poured large shots for them both. Thrix had taken her share of large shots in the past few days.
“Agrivex further embarrassed me by her chosen apparel,” continued Malveria. “I know it is hard to believe, but she went out for the day dressed in pyjamas and boots, barely covered by an elderly jacket.”
Malveria winced again, and sipped her whisky.
“The pyjamas have cats on them. I am informed that these cats belong to an organisation called Hello Kitty. Where she obtained them I do not know, but it ranks among the most perturbing things my niece has ever done.”
“Does Hello Kitty offend you? Isn’t it rather cute?”
“Cuteness is not encouraged among the Hiyasta,” explained Malveria. “In fact, the concept is virtually unknown. One dreads to think what the Empress Asaratanti would say were she to learn that my niece is prancing around in Hello Kitty pyjamas. For a war-like nation, it is most unsuitable.”
The Fire Queen shook her head sadly.
“Truly, Agrivex must be the least war-like Hiyasta ever born. No doubt it was profoundly misguided ever to consider adopting her as niece, and will eventually lead me into disgrace with my subjects. When they learn of her ridiculous pyjamas, they will express their outrage by storming the palace.”
Thrix laughed.
“But you had a good day with her?”
“I don’t admit it was a good day. But the foolish niece was certainly cheered. After I bought her a hideous T-shirt featuring some frightful music band, she actually held my hand as we progressed to the next market stall.”
The Fire Queen sat upright in her chair with the air of a woman throwing off her lesser cares to concentrate on more important matters.
“Two days ago you said you hoped to be nearing completion…?”
“I’m still nearing it,” said Thrix.
“I can tell you have been busy,” said Malveria, pointedly. “So busy you have neglected to properly attend to the spells you use to conceal Gawain’s aura. You have not managed to end the relationship?”
The Enchantress sighed, then shook her head, and looked close to despair. Malveria struggled to be understanding.
“Dearest Enchantress, I can, with some strain, sympathise with you. You have the terrible passion which cannot be denied. And though it may lead you into any number of dreadful fates, there is perhaps nothing to be done about it.”
She looked Thrix in the eye.
“I’m serious about the dreadful fates. I do not just say this because your rampant passion is delaying my clothes. If you continue this dalliance with Gawain, it will end badly, of that you may be sure.”
Thrix was uncomfortable, but didn’t contradict Malveria. From the first time she’d slept with Gawain she’d envisaged it coming to a bad ending. Why she was still doing it, she couldn’t explain. Not wishing to dwell on the subject, the Enchantress told Malveria that her ball gown was almost ready. The Queen leapt from her chair in excitement.
“Let me see me the garment!”
Thrix buzzed for Ann, asking her to bring the dress. Malveria examined the gown. She pursed her lips. It was obvious she wasn’t satisfied.
“It is a beautifully cut dress. But is it not rather plain?”
The ball gown, though lavish in the way of hoops, layers and lacing, was mainly white. Malveria had expected something more extravagant.
“Wait till you try it on,” said Thrix.
From the disappointed look on Malveria’s face as she was laced into the dress it was clear she thought that the Enchantress had let her down. This was not the ball gown to dazzle her rivals. She turned to the huge mirror on the wall.
“Well, Enchantress, it is pleasant enough, but - “
Thrix spoke the spell to activate the dress. It fluttered gently, as if caught in a light breeze. It was a pleasing effect, but even better were the large, shimmering fairy wings which appeared at the back of the gown. The Fire Queen gasped as they folded themselves gently around her, shimmering with every colour of the rainbow. They were translucent, delicate, and utterly beautiful. Malveria’s appearance was suddenly transformed from cynical supermodel into radiant fairy queen.
“It’s… it’s…” she gasped, but was unable to get her words out. Abruptly she fell over. The Fire Queen had fainted from pleasure.
Ann looked down at her.
“Is that good?”
“I hope so,” replied Thrix.
She bent down and gently rubbed Malveria’s temples to bring her round. As Malveria revived there was a quietly ecstatic expression on her face. She hobbled to the mirror.
“It’s so beautiful,” she gasped, and fell over again.
Thrix frowned.
“She’d better get used to it before the ball. Unless fainting with pleasure is acceptable at a Hiyasta social event. Which it might be, I suppose.”
191
Moonglow was in an odd mood when she arrived home from university. Daniel was sympathetic, as ever. He brought her tea as she sat at her mirror, cleaning off her make-up.
“What a state,” she muttered. Her kohl, mascara and eye shadow had all suffered from her tears. Even the highest quality products had not proved completely impervious to hours of crying. Daniel placed a cup of tea on one side of her and told her there was wine downstairs, if she needed additional comfort.
“And I brought you this nice chocolate frog in case you felt - ”
Moonglow grabbed the frog and crammed it in her mouth.
“I’ll get some more,” said Daniel.
Unlike Malveria and Thrix, Moonglow was amenable to chocolate as a means of solace. As she was unable to eat anything like a proper meal, the effects of some extra chocolate weren’t likely to be too drastic. Moonglow sipped her tea.
“Has Thrix been here today?” she asked.
Daniel wasn’t sure. He’d been out part of the day. Thrix now had a key, which neither of them really approved of. The Enchantress had pointed out that they’d agreed to let her use their attic and if they didn’t give her a key she could just open the front door by sorcery. Kalix had complained about Thrix and Malveria traipsing through the house at all hours. Thrix had angrily informed her young sister that if she didn’t like it, she could hand back the
pendant she wore and Thrix could then store everything at her own building.
It had been strange at first, living in a house which contained an attic full of magically protected clothes. They’d got used to it now. After encountering the MacRinnalchs, Daniel and Moonglow were no longer much surprised by anything. Moonglow asked Daniel what he planned to watch on TV tonight.
“We can watch it together. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to get cable.”
“It was a great idea,” enthused Daniel. “But I can’t watch it with you.”
“Why not?”
Daniel looked slightly embarrassed.
“I’ve got a date with Alicia.”
Moonglow was surprised. She noticed that Daniel had washed his hair. It still flopped in front of his eyes but it was in much better condition.
“You finally worked up the nerve to talk to her?”
“No,” admitted Daniel. “There was no working up of nerves. My nerves weren’t up to the task. She phoned me.”
Moonglow was even more surprised though she attempted not to insult Daniel by showing it.
“She told me she had a dream about me,” continued Daniel. “So she thought she’d give me a call.”
“Well I guess that’s good,” said Moonglow. “A girl dreaming about you and everything.”
“I know. It’s amazing.”
“Wonderful.”
Daniel noticed that Moonglow wasn’t sounding very happy. She seemed as if she might be about to burst into tears again any moment.
“I’ll stay in and watch TV with you if you want,” he volunteered, loyally. “I could see Alicia another time.”
“Don’t be silly,” said Moonglow. “You can’t just stand her up.”
Later, while Daniel got ready for his date, Moonglow was disconsolate. She’d been looking forward to watching TV with Daniel. She knew his presence would cheer her. Apparently Malveria’s words had been true. Daniel was becoming more attractive. Moonglow had a disturbing image of Daniel’s life improving in every direction while hers became worse. Soon he’d be out every night enjoying herself while she sat at home watching TV with only a bottle of wine for company.
Lonely Werewolf Girl Page 54