The Anxiety of Kalix the Werewolf

by Martin Millar

  “Performing my duties as a leader of fashion, naturally.”

  The Empress compressed her lips, wishing she could insult Malveria’s outfit, but not being able to find fault with it.

  “I am indeed looking splendid,” said the Fire Queen, reading her enemy’s mind. “It is such a blessing to have Thrix MacRinnalch designing for me.”

  “You think so? I have never been that impressed. But perhaps Thrix MacRinnalch will not be around forever.”

  The Fire Queen and the Empress stared at each other, each striving to conceal their aura, while reading the other’s.

  “I see no prospect of her departure,” said the Fire Queen.

  “You may be surprised,” said the Empress.

  Both rulers searched for a crushing put-down, but were interrupted by Alchet.

  “I like your boots,” she said to Vex.

  “Thanks,” said Vex. “That’s a nice necklace.”

  “Stop exchanging pleasantries!” roared the Empress.

  “My niece will exchange pleasantries if she wishes,” said the Fire Queen. “And really, Alchet is looking very youthful and pretty.”

  Alchet was dressed in a frock plain enough not to draw attention away from the Empress, but she did look young and pretty.

  “It’s rather a contrast to those making too much effort,” continued Malveria.

  The Empress drew herself up and only just prevented herself from levitating for extra height. Faced with the infuriating Fire Queen, it was a struggle to keep pretending she was human. The Empress longed to blast her with a stream of flame, something she felt capable of doing, with her increased power.

  “Alchet, follow me. It is time for us to take our superior seats. We must not keep Donatella waiting.”

  With that, the Empress departed, sweeping her handmaiden along with her.

  “Poor Alchet,” said Vex. “I’d hate to work for the Empress. She’s so mean. Probably she’s mean enough to send Alchet to some horrible crabby old sorcerer as a punishment. You wouldn’t want to be like that, would you?”

  “Abandon these futile efforts, scheming niece. You are going to the Arch-wizard as promised. Now accompany me to the restroom. I must check my make-up, and then we will present ourselves as ladies of superior fashion.” The Fire Queen looked at her niece. “I mean one lady of superior fashion and her eccentric student niece. Please stop waving that plastic handbag around, it is a terrible embarrassment to people of good taste.”

  CHAPTER 160

  “The Guild know we’re coming,” said Dominil. “They’re waiting for us.”

  Dominil’s revelation caused extreme consternation.

  “How do you know that?” cried Thrix. “What was the message?”

  “Daniel was contacted by a Fire Elemental called Gezinka whom he met at St. Amelia’s Ball. She informed him that the Empress of the Hainusta and the Avenaris Guild know our plans.”

  “How can they know?” asked Decembrius. “You said it was secret.”

  “Perhaps I overestimated our discretion.” Dominil swept her gaze around the room. “Someone may have talked.”

  There were cries of anger and outrage at the notion. Who could possibly have been so careless? Thrix took a step toward Kalix.

  “Manny,” she said.

  Kalix looked at the floor, and didn’t reply.

  “Who’s Manny?” asked Eskandor. The Captain of the Castle Guard was not so surprised that their plans had been discovered. In common with his companions Feargan and Barra, he didn’t have total faith in the discretion or competence of the werewolves in London.

  “An informer, probably,” said Thrix. “It doesn’t matter now. We need to decide what to do. Dominil, is Daniel reliable?”

  “He wouldn’t make it up. But he might be misinformed.”

  There was a silence, and a shared feeling of confusion, bordering on unreality. They were right next door to the Guild. The pathway was open. All they had to do was step through. But now, they didn’t know what they would find when they arrived.

  “I’m going anyway,” said Thrix.

  “I’m not certain that’s wise,” said Dominil.

  “I’m going,” said Kalix, stepping toward the purple light on the wall. Assuming that Manny had betrayed them, making her responsible, she was now determined to fling herself into battle and die. “I’m sorry if I’ve given us away.”

  Dominil caught her by the collar and dragged her back. “Wait,” she said. She crossed the crowded room and stood beside the door. “If the Guild really knows we’re coming, there might be some sign of them outside.”

  Dominil opened the door and looked out. A shot rang out, and wood splintered as a bullet slammed into the doorframe.

  “I’d say that’s a sign,” said Decembrius.

  Dominil hastily shut the door. Thrix raised one hand and spoke a spell she’d prepared, sealing the entrance.

  “That’ll keep them out for a while. What now?”

  “I knew you’d mess it all up,” said Wallace. “MacRinnalchs, you can’t get anything right.” He looked around the room. “Might as well carry on. We’re that close it would be a shame not to attack.”

  There was a general movement toward the wall.

  “This may not be the only alternative,” said Dominil. “We could investigate means of escape. There’s a window to the courtyard.”

  “The hunters will be there too,” said Thrix.

  Dominil nodded. “You’re right. Let’s go.”

  Kalix, now slipping into her state of battle madness, was eager to begin. She stepped toward the wall, ready to launch herself through. Once more she was prevented, this time by a most unexpected event. Another large oval of light flickered into existence in the middle of the room. Out of it stepped Sarapen. Even in the midst of such a crisis, it was a startling occurrence. Most of the werewolves in the room had attended his funeral.

  “What—?” cried Thrix.

  “Sarapen!” Decembrius gasped in amazement. “You’re dead!”

  Kalix jumped in alarm and began yelping, confused and distressed to see her hated elder brother return.

  “What’s going on?” demanded Wallace. “Have you come from the Forests of the Werewolf Dead?”

  Sarapen, dark and massive in his werewolf form, looked around him. “What’s happening?”

  Two shots were fired outside the room, and bullets slammed into the door.

  “We’re about to attack the Guild,” said Dominil. “But they’ve been warned of our coming.”

  “How are you alive?” demanded Thrix. “And why isn’t Dominil surprised?”

  “The knife didn’t kill me. The Hainusta Empress saved me. I’ve been trapped in her palace. I asked Dominil to rescue me.”

  “And no one thought to tell me about this?”

  Another shot slammed into the door.

  “Explanations can wait,” said Morag MacAllister.

  “Tell me your situation,” said Sarapen, who seemed untroubled to have arrived back in the midst of such desperate circumstances.

  “We’re about to go through that purple light, directly into the Guild’s headquarters,” explained Dominil. “We hoped to surprise them but now they’ve got us surrounded.”

  “Is this all the werewolves you could muster?”

  “There have been problems,” said Dominil. “I take responsibility.”

  “We’re still going ahead,” said Thrix.

  “Good,” said Sarapen. “Perhaps we can surprise them anyway.”

  Sarapen lifted the bag he carried. It was made of soft yellow leather and looked incongruous in his massive grasp.

  “I took this from the Empress. I brought something back inside it.”

  More shots slammed into the door. It creaked. Thrix’s spell threatened to give way. Sarapen produced a meldrava from the bag, the slingshot used by the palace guards.

  “This is loaded with lava from the Empress’s own volcano. As I understand, it can’t normally travel between dimen
sions. I’m hoping it might do some damage.”

  Thrix looked at the smoldering lava. “In this dimension I’d say it might blow up the whole street.”

  Sarapen laughed. “Then let’s hope we survive it.”

  He stepped toward the pathway. Kalix was still confused. She opened her mouth and growled at him. The huge werewolf grinned, and laid a hand on her shoulder.

  “Best save it for the Guild, sister. Is everyone ready?”

  Everyone was, apart from Dominil, who was calmly making a phone call. She ended the call quickly. “I’m ready.”

  “Then let’s go.”

  With that, Sarapen charged into the pathway on the wall, and the rest of the werewolves charged after him.

  CHAPTER 161

  Daniel and Moonglow drove through the center of the city, anxiously looking for any sign of Kalix. They crossed over Oxford Street numerous times, scanning one side street and then another.

  “This is hopeless,” said Daniel. “We’ll never find her.”

  “We have to keep trying. Why won’t they answer their phones?”

  “Maybe the attack’s started already,” said Daniel.

  They drove on. It did seem hopeless. They had no real idea of where to look. All Lady Gezinka had been able to tell them was that the attack was happening somewhere in the center of town.

  “That might not even mean around Oxford Street. It could be Knightsbridge, or Regent’s Park.”

  Daniel drove on. “We’ll never find Kalix by just driving around.”

  “We did before,” said Moonglow.

  Despite his worry, Daniel managed to smile at the memory. Soon after their first encounter with the young werewolf, they’d moved to a new flat, slipping out quietly in the night because they owed their landlord money. They’d found Kalix in the street, and rescued her. Daniel stopped smiling as he remembered what had happened after that.

  “That was the first time we saw Markus.”

  “Don’t mention Markus,” said Moonglow.

  “Why not?”

  “You know why not.”

  “It’s not my fault if you fell in love with a cross-dressing werewolf,” muttered Daniel, still smarting at the memory.

  “Be quiet,” said Moonglow, who didn’t remember Markus any more fondly, after the way he’d ended their brief relationship.

  Daniel’s phone rang. It lay on the dashboard. He pressed a key to send it to speakerphone.

  “Daniel? This is Dominil.”

  “Dominil? Where—”

  “Don’t speak, I have no time. Our van is parked in Montagu Place, close to the Swedish Embassy. It says “MacIntyre Removals” on the side. Find it and bring it close to three hundred and fifty-six Gloucester Place. We may need assistance later. The keys are tucked under the rug between the seats.”

  Dominil ended the call. Moonglow was already looking up Montagu Place on her map. They had to drive across Gloucester Place to get there. There was no sign of anything unusual, but Daniel and Moonglow both feared the worst. Kalix might be in the middle of another terrible battle. She might be already dead.

  “Montagu Place,” said Moonglow. Her voice trembled but she forced herself to be calm. “I can see their van.”

  “I wish Malveria was here,” said Moonglow. “I know there are going to be injuries.”

  Malveria was not far away. She was standing elegantly among the crowd at the fashion show, outwardly calm but inwardly seething at the sight of Empress Kabachetka talking familiarly to the accessories editor of Marie Claire.

  “It is truly scandalous the way that woman has ingratiated herself,” muttered the Fire Queen to her niece. “What has she done to deserve it?”

  “Given about a million pounds in sponsorship,” said Vex. “Why didn’t you do that?”

  “Because I did not know it was an appropriate thing to do!” hissed the Fire Queen. “The vile Empress would never have dreamed of giving her gold away had not Distikka advised her to. She is a cunning adviser, Distikka. Would that I had one so intelligent.” The Fire Queen suddenly tensed. “Be alert, niece. Something is afoot.”

  Vex giggled. “Afoot. That’s a funny word.”

  “Silence, imbecile. Donatella Versace has just entered the room. Kabachetka should already be worming her way toward her, intent on forcing her company on the poor woman. Yet she is not.”

  As Malveria and Vex looked on, the Empress withdrew from the accessories editor. Instead of making her way toward Ms. Versace, as indeed would have been expected, she was heading in the opposite direction.

  “Agrivex, follow me.”

  “What’s happening?” asked Vex, hurrying after her aunt.

  “There is only one conceivable reason why the gruesome Empress would not not be throwing herself on Donatella Versace like the craven lickspittle she is. Thrix believed her attack was a secret, but I have always suspected otherwise. I think the Empress is now going to assist the hunters.”

  “You can’t let her do that! Kalix is there.”

  “As is Thrix. The Empress of the Hainusta will not harm my fashion designer, not while I am alive to prevent it.”

  Malveria walked swiftly through the crowd, moving quickly and smoothly in the crowded room. Vex barged her way long behind her, upsetting drinks as she passed. They followed Kabachetka to a restroom. Malveria opened the door and marched inside. Kabachetka was just beginning to dematerialize.

  “And where might you be going?” demanded the Fire Queen.

  “Where I am going is no business of yours,” said Kabachetka.

  “I think it is.”

  “Well, it isn’t.”

  Kabachetka disappeared. The Fire Queen did the same. They both materialized in the air outside, several hundred feet above London.

  “I know where you’re going,” said the Fire Queen. “To assist the hunters against Thrix.”

  The Empress looked down her nose at the Fire Queen. “It has always pained me that a fellow elemental ruler should consort with these vulgar werewolves. It is the talk of the Elemental Rulers Council.”

  They hovered in the air, invisible from below, half in and half out of this world.

  “You will not seek to hinder me if you know what’s good for you,” said the Empress. “My power has increased since I took charge of the Eternal Volcano.”

  Malveria drew herself up so that the toes of her high heels pointed almost vertically toward the ground. “It has increased to the point where it is still a fraction of mine.”

  The Empress laughed. “We’ll see about that.”

  The Empress raised her hand and a great bolt of blue fire shot from her palm toward the Fire Queen. Malveria brushed it aside imperiously and retaliated with a bolt of yellow flame. As Kabachetka deflected that, there was an explosion like the loudest clap of thunder. People on the streets below looked up in alarm, and saw blazing lights in the clouds. They hurried on their way, not wanting to be caught out of doors in such a fierce storm. The thunder and lightning grew louder as the reigning monarchs of two elemental nations joined in combat in the dark, cloudy skies over London.

  CHAPTER 162

  Kalix was relieved when it was time to attack. Her confusion vanished and her cares disappeared as her battle madness descended. In combat Kalix had no worries. She was overwhelmed by a savage ferocity unmatched by any other werewolf. Once embroiled in fighting, Kalix had no regard for her own safety; she could not be halted by anything except death. She leaped with the others into the oval of purple light on the wall and raced through the sorcerous pathway. Her mouth opened wide, displaying her long werewolf tongue and her sharp teeth. Her claws were extended, ready to tear at the hunters’ throats. As she neared the glowing exit, Kalix prepared to leap at the first hunter she saw.

  Once more, the young werewolf was thrown into confusion by an unexpected event. The moment she flung herself into the Guild’s headquarters there was a terrific explosion, several flashes of blinding light and a billowing cloud of dense smoke. Sarapen had u
sed the meldrava, catapulting the fragments of lava from the Empress’s volcano right into the midst of the foyer. The lava, already seething and boiling in an alien dimension, exploded with a force that blew the foyer apart, sending the hunters concealed behind their barricades flying in all directions, injured or killed by the blast.

  Kalix found herself in a burning, smoke-filled space where she was unable to see anything. Her keen werewolf senses were almost overwhelmed by the acrid smoke that poured from the blazing wood paneling. She roared in annoyance and ran blindly about the foyer, searching for someone to kill. She stepped on something she recognized as a body but to her annoyance the hunter was already dead, killed in the blast. Kalix growled angrily and ran on, blundering into Decembrius who was holding an arm over his snout, protecting it from the smoke.

  Decembrius was not as out of control as Kalix. “This way!” he shouted, and dragged Kalix toward the charred remnants of a doorway. She followed him down a flight of stairs. The air was still thick with smoke. Fire alarms sounded and there were screams of men and werewolves in all directions. There was the sound of gunfire too, and then another explosion. Kalix sprinted down the stairs, overtaking Decembrius. The door to the stairwell opened and a hunter appeared with a gun in his hand. Kalix leaped at him, fastening her jaws round his throat before he had time to react. They crashed into the basement corridor. Kalix savagely twisted her neck, biting a huge chunk of flesh from her victim’s throat. He fell down dead, his blood gushing out over Kalix’s face. She roared in satisfaction then ran down the corridor, looking for another opponent.

  As Kalix and Decembrius rushed downstairs, Thrix was heading the opposite way. According to Dominil, the leaders of the Avenaris Guild were most likely to be found in the executive offices on the top floor. Thrix struggled through the smoke and chaos in the lobby before stumbling onto a staircase. She ran up the stairs, her golden werewolf hair streaming behind her. She passed the second and third floor unopposed. As she reached the top a young woman with a sheaf of papers in her hand appeared in front of her. The woman screamed as she saw Thrix, and ran back into the corridor. Thrix sprinted after her and dragged her back.