“She’s another fire elemental. I’ve met her,” said Moonglow.
“What? When?”
“She tried to bribe me into giving away secrets about Malveria’s clothes.”
Daniel came to a halt.
“What? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You were too busy with Vex and Alicia.”
Daniel was still dubious.
“How are we meant to find her? She could be anywhere.”
“I’d guess she’s in the alley behind the venue,” said Moonglow.
They crept quietly along the alleyway. Moonglow stooped to pick up a empty bottle. They tried to move silently but the snow was lying on the ground and crunched beneath their feet. At every step Daniel expected a sorcerous princess to appear, and fire some dreadful spell at them.
“Unless her werewolf bodyguards just rip us to pieces first,” he muttered.
Moonglow stopped.
“See, this is why I’d never go out with you,” she said. “You’re just so negative about everything.”
“I’m not negative about everything.”
“You are. Nothing ever goes right, according to you. It’s just one disaster after another.”
“Well, life is hard,” said Daniel. “But I don’t think I’m that negative. Just realistic.”
He paused.
“You mean you’d go out with me if I was more positive?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You implied it.”
“I don’t think I implied it at all,” said Moonglow.
“You did so! You said you’d never go out with me because I was so negative. That definitely implies you would go out with me if I was more positive.”
“We don’t have time to argue about it now,” said Moonglow, and walked on. Daniel hurried to catch up. Moonglow was peering round the corner. Half way along the alley, directly behind the venue, a woman with blonde hair and black clothes was staring up at the wall. Moonglow put her mouth to Daniel’s ear and whispered.
“It’s her. She’s concentrating on her magic. Now’s our chance to rush her.”
“It won’t - ” began Daniel, but halted as he saw Moonglow’s expression. “Well I suppose it might work.”
224
“This isn’t so great,” said Beauty. She was sitting beside her sister in the dressing room. Only an hour or so ago they’d been in here doing their hair prior to walking onstage. They’d drunk beer and joked with their musicians. Now they were bleeding from a dozen cuts apiece and facing death at the hands of Sarapen. She looked towards Dominil.
“Next time we want a better dressing room.”
“And more beer,” added Delicious.
The Enchantress and Malveria sat next to each other on a crate.
“I’m sorry I got you into this,” said the Enchantress. The Fire Queen waved this away.
“I have been in need of activity. And it is a splendid fight, yes?”
Before Thrix could reply, her phone rang. She answered it automatically.
“Hello? No, it’s not a very good time. Sorry. Bye.”
“Who was that?” asked Malveria, as Sarapen’s werewolves pounded on the door.
“Donald Carver. He was wondering if I was free for dinner.”
“Ah. Unfortunate timing. Perhaps there will be another occasion?”
“I don’t think he’ll ask again,” said Thrix.
Gawain and the MacRinnalch guard had their shoulders to the door, trying to keep it shut, but any second now it would give way.
“Time to resume the struggle,” said Dominil.
The Enchantress rose at her side.
“What’s that on your leg?”
Almost concealed beneath Dominil’s white fur, there was some sort of strap.
“It holds a knife,” said Dominil, but didn’t elaborate.
The door burst open. Sarapen threw himself into the room. Dominil leapt at him and they met head on, howling and biting at each other. The remaining werewolves, some fifteen, piled into the tiny dressing room. There was dreadful confusion in the confined space. Kalix found herself assaulted by all three of the Douglas-MacPhees, who still hoped to collect the bounty on her head. She raked her claws across Rhona’s face, threw Duncan off and sank her teeth into Fergus’s throat. Fergus writhed in agony but could not break free of her grip. Duncan leapt on Kalix’s from behind and bit deeply into her back but Kalix wouldn’t let go of Fergus. She sunk her teeth deeper and deeper into his neck till his body went limp and she knew he was dead. Then she thrust herself backwards, slamming Duncan into the wall. His grip on her loosened and she whirled to face him, striking him again and again till he sank towards the floor. Kalix opened her jaws and would have killed him had not Rhona smashed a crate of bottles squarely over her head. Kalix sagged at the knees, fighting to stay on her feet as darkness threatened to overwhelm her.
Malveria tumbled through the broken door back onto the stage, pursued by a werewolf. She turned swiftly and clubbed him with such force that he fell to the ground. Malveria raised her weapon again but was distracted as she placed her foot on something soft, which yelled. She looked down.
“Agrivex? What are you doing?”
“Hiding under the drum kit.”
“Is that the best place you could find?”
Agrivex’s answer was lost as two more werewolves emerged to attack Malveria. She swung her mace mightily, fending them off, but took a raking blow to the chest in the process, which brought blood pouring down the front of her formal coat.
“Argh!” screamed Malveria. “You have destroyed my new coat!”
She swung her weapon, brutally clubbing one of her foes, and set about the second werewolf.
Dominil was grappling with Sarapen. It cost her, as he pummelled her with his superior strength, but she put an arm round his neck, fixed her teeth to his shoulder, and hung on. She reached down to the sheathe at her leg, drawing out the Begravar knife. Sarapen struck her in the face. Dominil spat out blood, and smiled. She held up the knife and spoke the phrase to bring it to life. Seeing the knife, Sarapen took a step backwards. Dominil leapt at him again, and plunged it towards his chest. She didn’t quite make it. Sarapen had his guard up, and took the stroke on his arm, but as Dominil sprang away, she was satisfied. She had felt the knife sinking into the flesh and the evil potency of the blade should do the rest. Any deep cut was fatal.
Dominil paused to look at Sarapen. She wanted to see him fall. Sarapen raised his arm, and glanced at the cut. He sneered.
“Not good enough, Dominil,” he said, and lashed out with a blow which sent Dominil flying backwards into the Enchantress. This time Dominil struggled to rise. The Enchantress saw the blade in her hand, and recognised it as the Begravar knife.
“No use,” she gasped. “No sorcery can work here.”
Dominil cursed. Kabachetka’s spell had taken away the knife’s power. She wearily raised her guard as Sarapen approached. Suddenly the body of a werewolf flew between them. One of Sarapen’s followers, dead. A roar, loud even in the room that reverberated with werewolf screams, pierced the air. It was Kalix. She had destroyed another opponent and now hurdled over the body to come to grips with Sarapen. The fury of her assault tumbled him over and they rolled around on the floor, biting and clawing at each other. Kalix’s battle-madness was driving her past all barriers of pain or exhaustion. She couldn’t feel her own injuries. Against any werewolf but Sarapen she’d have been unstoppable. Sarapen, however, was eldest son of the Thane, a werewolf of vast power with enough strength to hold off even Kalix’s madness. He tried to use his weight to drag Kalix down with him and their jaws met in a dreadful, tearing embrace.
Andris, noticing that Sarapen was locked in combat, ran over and began to strike at Kalix’s back. Beside them, Decembrius was struggling with the last of the MacRinnalch guards. The guard had fought valiantly but had suffered many wounds. Decembrius took hold of the guard and prepared to dispatch him. Then Decembrius noticed Kalix’
s plight, trapped between Sarapen and Andris. Without much thinking what he was doing, Decembrius flung his opponent backwards so he crashed into Andris. Andris fell into Kalix and Sarapen, and as they struggled to their feet they were both swept up in the melee.
Dominil, leaning against the wall for support, found herself confronted by the huge Andris. Sensing her weakness he hurled himself at her. Dominil straightened up rapidly and deflected his assault, sending him crashing into the wall. He whirled to face her and as he did so, Dominil struck him a blow with her claw so fierce it tore through his collarbone and ruptured his neck. He fell down dead in front of her. Dominil bared her teeth, and staggered back into the fray.
225
Daniel gazed at the unconscious figure of Princess Kabachetka.
“I can’t believe you did that.”
Moonglow had a broken bottle in her hand.
“I had to. She was going to get everyone killed.”
They could still hear sounds of fighting coming from above them.
“Do you think her magic has stopped now?”
“Who knows? We should get out of here in before she wakes up,” said Daniel.
Moonglow hesitated.
“Maybe we should do something else.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know… look for magic stuff, and destroy it.”
Daniel made a frustrated gesture.
“See, this is your problem Moonglow. You’re never satisfied. You club the Princess over the head and it’s still not enough. Now we have to hang around till she wakes up and blasts us.”
“I just want to do the job properly,” replied Moonglow. “I don’t like leaving things half done.”
“Sometimes you are so annoying!” yelled Daniel. “You never know when you’ve done enough. You don’t have to get full marks in every exam! Have you any idea how aggravating that is?”
Moonglow felt annoyed at Daniel’s criticism.
“You’d get better marks in your exams if you studied occasionally.”
“Don’t change the subject,” said Daniel, heatedly. “You’re the one who’s being criticised here. Why do you have to do everything so well?”
They made their way back into the street, still bickering.
“You know what it’s like living with such an over-achiever?”
“Surprise me,” said Moonglow, dryly.
“It’s very dispiriting. I can’t lie on the couch watching TV without you making me feel guilty by studying all the time. It’s unreasonable. And you can’t even have a normal boyfriend. Oh no, you have to go out with some fancy werewolf prince.”
Feeling that this was stretching personal criticism too far, Moonglow protested hotly.
“Don’t you drag Markus into this!”
“Why not? It’s all part of the same problem.”
“What problem?”
“Ridiculously high standards. You study too much and you only go out with fantastic werewolf princes. No wonder I’m negative. I mean, who can compete?”
Moonglow was now very irritated.
“Will you shut up? Don’t talk about Markus.”
“Who wants to talk about Markus? Forget he ever existed, I say.”
By the time they reached the street Daniel and Moonglow were thoroughly annoyed at each other. They stood angrily on the corner, in the snow, not sure what to do next.
226
When the six fresh werewolves Sarapen had been holding in reserve entered the room, the defenders knew it was over. There was nowhere left to retreat. Thrix, Butix, Delix and Dominil could hardly stay on their feet. The single remaining MacRinnalch guard was alive, but unconscious. Only Kalix, Gawain and Malveria could carry on fighting, and all of them were wounded. They had fought valiantly. They’d killed or incapacitated many of their attackers. Just seven of Sarapen’s original force of werewolves were still standing. But Sarapen had hidden six more werewolves in a van outside, not even taking them to the rendezvous in the warehouse. Now they were here.
Dominil hauled herself slowly to her feet.
“You can’t finish the job yourself?” she said to Sarapen, mockingly.
“I’ll finish it now,” replied Sarapen.
Sarapen had fought as werewolf but now he transformed into his full wolf shape. He howled, and led his werewolves in their final assault. Gawain sprang to intercept Sarapen but the wolf-Sarapen was fast, and his teeth were round Gawain’s throat in an instant. Kalix felt a hand tugging at her arm. It was Dominil, who was now on one knee, struggling to remain upright. The Begravar knife was glowing. Princess Kabachetka’s sorcery was gone, and the knife had now been activated. She handed it to Kalix.
Kalix took the knife and leapt towards Sarapen. Behind her, her fellow defenders were submerged in a murderous tide, but there was some confusion as the knife cast its baleful influence over all the werewolves. Kalix grabbed Sarapen and threw him from Gawain. As Sarapen turned to confront her, she thrust the knife deep in his chest. Sarapen howled as the blade burned his insides. Such was the volume of his scream that everyone paused. Malveria attempted to rise gracefully, but failed.
“Niece,” she yelled. “Assist me!”
Agrivex hurried out from beneath the remaining fragments of the drum kit and helped her aunt to her feet. Malveria raised her hand.
“My sorcery has been restored,” she gasped, and with a brief wave she threw their assailants across to the far side of the room.
“Of course,” thought Thrix. “Sorcery.”
Thrix dredged up a spell. It was hard for her to think straight as the confusion cause by the Begravar knife had addled her mind, but she managed to add her powers to those of Malveria, forming a wall of protection around them. All eyes now turned to Sarapen. The great wolf writhed on the floor, transforming first from wolf to werewolf, then from werewolf to human. The knife protruded from his chest and he was unable to draw it out. Sarapen was dying.
The dim room suddenly lit up with a flash of green light. Princes Kabachetka had arrived. She was no longer immaculate. There was snow on her jacket and a trickle of blood on her forehead.
‘Although,’ reflected Malveria sadly, regarding her own ruined outfit. ‘She still looks better than me.’
Kabachetka hurried to Sarapen’s side. She spoke a word and the knife slid from his chest, no longer glowing. She knew, as surely as did the Enchantress, that he was dying. The Princess knelt beside Sarapen, and cradled his head. She looked up, seeking Malveria.
“You bitch!” said Kabachetka. Then she pointed a finger, though who she was pointing at was unclear.
“I will see you at Livia’s celebration,” said the Princess.
“I look forward to it,” replied Malveria.
Princess Kabachetka unleashed a mighty spell and a great bolt of orange lightning crackled from her finger. It was not directed at Malveria, or anyone else in the room. Instead it disappeared through the wall, heading south.
“I fear you may be reduced to wearing last year’s fashions,” said the Princess, coolly. She dematerialised, taking Sarapen with her.
The Enchantress had by now regained enough strength to stand unaided. She called out to Decembrius.
“Take your wounded and go or I’ll kill you where you stand.”
Decembrius did as the Enchantress said. They could not continue the fight against the sorcery of the Enchantress and the Fire Queen. With Sarapen gone, there was no point in trying. They departed quickly, though not all quietly. One of the MacAndrises yelled defiantly across the room towards Kalix.
“You killed Sarapen with the Begravar Knife! First your father and now your brother! We won’t forget.”
Then they were gone. Kalix didn’t react. She remained in her werewolf form. Gawain was badly injured, only a few feet away, but she didn’t go to him.
“We’d better help the wounded,” muttered the Enchantress, looking towards the Fire Queen.
“What was that spell that the Princess used?” asked Malveria.
<
br /> Thrix shook her head. She hadn’t recognised it.
“It had some elements of penetrating a magical defence,” muttered the Fire Queen. “But also some elements I have not encountered before. Almost as if it was a spell constructed for - ”
She stopped. Colour drained from her honey-toned cheeks.
“My clothes! She has found my beautiful new clothes and treacherously attacked them!”
Malveria forgot her weakness. She snapped her fingers, and vanished. The Enchantress watched her go.
“All right, I’ll see to the wounded myself,” she muttered.
The Enchantress tried to revive the MacRinnalchs who’d been sent by Verasa but only one of them was still alive, and he was seriously injured. Gawain was also badly hurt. His final confrontation with Sarapen had been very brutal. The Enchantress glanced at his wounds.
“You’ll live,” she muttered, and turned away. She knelt down beside the MacRinnalch guard.
“I need to take him away for treatment. Is there anyone else about to die?”
There didn’t seem to be. Beauty and Delicious were bleeding from cuts all over their bodies, but from the way they’d already hurried to the bar to load up with free alcohol, they didn’t seem to be in danger. Dominil had been brutally battered and her coat was more red than white, but she was still in one piece.
“I am fine,” said Dominil. She winced in pain.
“Are you sure?”
“I am fine,” repeated Dominil, and refused to wince again. “Kalix, do you require attention?”
Kalix didn’t reply. She just stood in the middle of the room, staring into space. Her fur was torn and matted with blood and her shoulders were hunched. For a werewolf who’d been fighting so savagely, she suddenly seemed very small.
“I need to get this one back to my apartment,” said the Enchantress, kneeling over the guard. She glanced at the bodies which littered the floor. She muttered a spell, and they disappeared.
“The morgue at the castle will be overflowing.”
Daniel and Moonglow ventured into the room.
“What happened?”
Lonely Werewolf Girl Page 62