The Anxiety of Kalix the Werewolf

by Martin Millar

  Vex took off, attempting to project herself up to the clouds where the battle raged. She judged the distance quite well, materializing close to the Fire Queen and the Empress. White flames poured from their weapons, enveloping them in a blazing sphere of light. As Vex arrived, the sphere grew larger, expanding rapidly till there was an explosion more deafening than all the rest, and a flash of light so intense that the clouds became momentarily transparent. Vex had a glimpse of the Empress soaring upwards, screaming in pain and rage before abruptly disappearing from sight.

  “Go back to your palace!” yelled Queen Malveria at the departing Empress. “Face me again when you’ve learned how to fight.”

  Vex noticed her aunt’s aura was imbued with flames of triumph. They lasted only a few seconds before fading to nothingness. The Fire Queen’s body went limp, hanging motionless in the air. Vex caught her, and they began to fall from the sky together.

  “Are you all right, Aunty?”

  “I am triumphant. But my strength has gone.”

  “I came to rescue you.”

  “I appreciate it. Do you have a plan for preventing us from plummeting onto the concrete below?”

  “Not really,” admitted Agrivex.

  “Splendid,” said the Fire Queen. “We can meet our ancestors together. You’ll like my mother.”

  “I can save us!” said Vex. The ground was approaching alarmingly fast. Vex, who was bad at teleporting herself, had never before tried carrying anyone with her. Needing a point of reference, Vex saw the store they’d been in earlier. She kept a tight grip on her aunt, and desperately attempted to fling herself through the dimensions. There was a second of freezing cold, and then a gentle thud as she and Malveria materialized in a deserted room, just one foot from the ground.

  “I did it!” cried Vex, springing to her feet. She looked at her aunt, who lay on the floor, making no attempt to rise. “You’re all bleeding and burned. Are you all right?”

  “I will be fine. I need to rest, and heal. Where are we?”

  “Back in the big store with the fashion show. In a stationery cupboard. Maybe it’s not stationery. Some sort of big cupboard anyway. It could be other office supplies.”

  “We will just accept that it’s a cupboard,” said Malveria. “Now I must rest before I can heal myself.”

  “Let me help,” said Vex.

  “I doubt that you are able, niece.”

  “I am! I’ve been practicing. I healed flowers!”

  “Well done. I am impressed. But I can heal myself, and I have another task for you. Find Thrix and her companions. If you can really help with healing, they’ll appreciate it.”

  “I don’t want to leave you in this cupboard.”

  “I will be fine. I want you to help Thrix. Kalix too, if you can find her. The building is in Gloucester Place, not far. Travel there and you may sense their presence.”

  The Fire Queen lay back on the floor to rest. If she could gather a little strength, she could open a tiny portal to her volcano at home, and restore her powers.

  “OK, Aunty,” said Vex. “Look after my bag.” She dematerialized quickly. The Fire Queen gave Agrivex’s green plastic handbag a disapproving glance, and then closed her eyes to concentrate on healing.

  CHAPTER 167

  Thrix knelt in an office on the top floor of the Guild’s headquarters, alone, knowing that unless she could overcome the building’s dampening field that was suppressing her sorcery, she might soon die. She had four silver bullets inside her. The pain was excruciating. The bullets had missed her heart but they’d fragmented inside her, and now the shards of silver were tearing her insides apart.

  “I’m not giving up while there are hunters left alive.”

  The werewolf Enchantress made the change back to human. She closed her eyes and placed her hands on her lap. If her own sorcery wouldn’t work, perhaps she could coax a response from one of Minerva’s most powerful spells.

  “Minerva’s Healing of Last Resort,” she said. “Cneasaich.”

  Thrix felt a disturbance in the sorcerous field that surrounded her, as Minerva’s spell struggled to take effect. For a few moments, she felt calm, and then she yelled in pain. Her eyes opened wide and she saw fragments of silver emerging from her skin. Some came from her bullet wounds, but other fragments made new holes in her flesh, tearing their way out of her body. Thrix screamed and collapsed in agony on the carpet. The pain became too much to bear and she passed out for several seconds. When she awoke she’d been sick all over herself and there were shards of silver everywhere. She wiped the tears from her eyes.

  “Good spell,” muttered Thrix. “Apart from the unbearable agony.”

  Thrix could still feel damage inside her. Suppressed by the power of the Guild’s headquarters, Minerva’s spell had not fully worked. But it had helped, partially renewing her strength, and allowing her to carry on.

  She left the office and headed for the stairs. The sprinklers were still operating, washing away the blood and vomit from her body. Thrix changed back into her werewolf form. She was about to run down the stairs and rejoin the battle when she paused, and went back. Wallace MacGregor, in death, had changed back to human. Thrix picked him up with ease, with the thought that if she survived the battle, she’d take him back to the castle for a proper burial. Then she hurried on through the smoke, downstairs, toward the sounds of werewolves howling and guns firing.

  Dominil had located the Guild’s main computer room. Unlike most other parts of the building, this area had been modernized, with several offices converted into one large space, separated by glass partitions.

  “I need a few minutes,” she said, ignoring the smoke, flames and gunfire.

  “Won’t everything get burned anyway?” asked Morag.

  “Their files won’t only all be stored on these computers,” said Dominil. She changed into her human shape and sat down at a terminal.

  “Protect me while I erase their files.”

  Morag grinned. “You’re an odd werewolf, Dominil. I like you more than I—”

  Her words were cut off by a shot. Morag looked surprised, then fell down dead. Dominil swiftly took a terminal from its desk and crouched on the floor. Sarapen joined her, using the desk as cover. He touched Morag’s neck, checking for a pulse.

  “She’s dead,” he said.

  “Try to keep me alive till I’m finished here.”

  Dominil sat on the ground, loading software into the computer with a flash drive. Sarapen crawled from the booth, looking for whoever had shot Morag. There was a flurry of gunfire nearby, and some screaming. Dominil kept her eyes on the screen, attempting to locate all of the Guild’s files, wherever they were stored. Morag lay beside her, face down, with a gaping wound in her back where the silver bullet had exited from her body. Dominil ignored her. Her fingers flew swiftly over the keyboard. She left a program running and carefully reached up to the next desk, taking hold of another terminal. She began another program, finding and erasing all the locally held files. She barely noticed the gunfire that erupted nearby, though she was obliged to put her sleeve over her mouth to protect her from the smoke, which was now making it difficult to breathe.

  Sarapen appeared back in the cubicle with blood on his fur. “I got rid of them,” he said.

  Dominil remained silent, still working at the keyboard.

  “Are you going to be much longer?”

  “A few more minutes. I’m erasing their cloud files in Arizona.”

  “I’ve been shot,” said Sarapen.

  “Will you survive?”

  “Yes. But the ceiling’s about to come down.”

  Dominil glanced upwards. “We have a few minutes. I’m almost done.”

  CHAPTER 168

  Thrix came across two more hunters as she descended the stairs, falling on them savagely and killing them instantly. A wave of elation swept over her. She’d killed many hunters, and the Guild’s headquarters would soon be consumed by flames. It was time to leave. She arr
ived on the ground floor to meet Eskandor and Feargan, limping toward the foyer. Both were wounded, and they were carrying the body of Barra. The foyer was blackened and charred, with several smoldering holes in the walls and debris from the ceiling scattered around everywhere.

  “We have to leave,” said Eskandor. The smoke had temporarily cleared from the foyer but it was thickening again as the flames on the floor above intensified.

  “We’re not all here yet,” said Thrix.

  Decembrius and Kalix appeared, their faces blackened from smoke. Decembrius looked unharmed but Kalix was bleeding in several places.

  “More hunters,” she snarled.

  “I think we’re finished,” said Thrix.

  Eskandor fell to the ground, more badly wounded than Thrix had realized. Feargan looked at him anxiously. “We need to get him out of here.”

  “We can’t leave without Dominil,” said Decembrius.

  There was an anxious wait. The werewolves had loosely arranged to meet in the foyer after their attack, but the chaos caused by the ambush, and Sarapen’s explosive device, seemed to have wiped out their planning.

  “I’ll look for her,” said Decembrius.

  “How? The whole place is on fire,” said Eskandor.

  Suddenly the wall at the end of the corridor caved in. There stood Sarapen and Dominil. Unable to reach the door because of the heat, they’d smashed down the wall. They were both soaked from the sprinklers, which had helped to protect them from the flames. Sarapen carried Morag MacAllister’s body in his arms.

  “Well?” said Thrix.

  “The Guild’s computer records are erased,” said Dominil. “We can assume their library has been incinerated too. It’s time to leave.”

  The werewolves took a step toward the inner of the two doors that led to the street outside. At that moment the door burst open and Group Sixteen appeared. The tallest of the hunters was pointing a machine gun. He pulled the trigger and emptied the whole magazine of thirty silver bullets into the werewolves. At the same time the hunters behind him opened fire with their pistols.

  Dominil, Decembrius, Thrix and Feargan fell to the ground. Kalix and Sarapen were thrown backwards, slamming into the smoldering wall of the ruined foyer. The hunter with the machine gun rapidly took another magazine from his belt and loaded it while the others kept firing. Kalix, blood pouring from every limb, flung herself toward them. Sarapen, only a fraction of a second slower, did the same. The machine gun was reloaded just as Kalix reached them. She snarled, and leaped upwards, fastening her jaws around the tall hunter’s neck. The gun was firing as Kalix dragged him to the ground. Sarapen slammed into the other hunters, and there was a terrible sound of snarling and screaming as the werewolves and hunters fought for their lives.

  The fight ended, and there was silence, save for the crackling of flames. Dominil dragged herself to her feet, now badly wounded. She stumbled forward to where Sarapen and Kalix lay in a huge pool of blood. Dominil was close enough to the exit to see the street outside. Another group of hunters was about to rush into the building. She slammed the inner door and bolted it. The Guild’s doors had been constructed to keep out intruders and could not be broken down quickly.

  Dominil groaned as she fastened the bolts. Her ribs had been smashed by bullets and it was difficult to move. As she turned slowly from the door, she saw Thrix hauling herself upright, blood dripping from her chest and her legs.

  “Help me,” said Dominil.

  Thrix staggered forward. Between them, they managed to pull the limp figures of Sarapen and Kalix back from the door, dragging them behind the remains of one of the hunters’ barricades. Dominil thought that Sarapen was still alive. She wasn’t sure about Kalix. Thrix’s strength gave out and she collapsed behind the barricade. She had an ugly wound on her face, which had torn her lips. Dominil could hear hunters banging on the door and feel the heat of the flames, which were now burning through the nearest wall. She hauled herself toward her fallen companions. Feargan was dead, torn apart by the machine gun. Eskandor was also dead. Decembrius had been shot several times in the chest, and lay on his back in a pool of his own blood. He was still breathing faintly, but Dominil didn’t have the strength to move him. She crawled back toward the barricade.

  “Eskandor and Feargan are dead.”

  “We’ll be joining them soon enough,” said Thrix, who was now too weak to heal herself.

  The front door began to give way.

  “Bye, Dominil,” whispered Thrix. “See you in the Forests.”

  Dominil took two guns from her pocket. She handed one to Thrix.

  “I took these from the hunters,” she said. “We’re not at the Forests yet.”

  CHAPTER 169

  “What are we meant to do now?” said Moonglow. She felt agitated, sitting in the van the werewolves had hired, waiting for something to happen.

  “I don’t know,” said Daniel. “What can we do?”

  “There’s Vex!” cried Moonglow. She opened her door to call on the young Fire Elemental, who was running up the pavement.

  “Vex, what’s happening?”

  “Aunt Malvie sent me to help but I can’t find anyone!”

  Daniel’s phone rang. “It’s Dominil.”

  “Daniel?” Dominil’s voice sounded weak over the speakerphone. “Are you close?”

  “Yes. We can see the building.”

  “Good. You may be able to help.”

  “How?”

  “We’re trapped between hunters and fire. We have many injuries.”

  “Is Kalix all right?”

  “She may be. Ram your van through the front door.”

  “What?”

  “Ram it through the door. It will allow us to escape. I have to go now.”

  Moonglow and Daniel gaped at each other.

  “Ram the van through the door?”

  “What did she mean Kalix may be all right?”

  Vex clambered into the van. “What are we going to do?”

  “Ram it through the door,” said Daniel.

  “No we’re not!” cried Moonglow.

  “Dominil says they’re trapped.”

  Moonglow shook her head, resigned to her fate. “Fine. Do it.”

  In the darkness they could see lights flickering behind some of the upstairs windows, though there was no real sign of the fire that Dominil had mentioned. As they approached the building, a group of men disappeared inside, closing the front door behind them.

  “Check your seat belts and hang on tight,” said Daniel. He swung the vehicle round so as the rear end faced the building. Between the van and the front door there was a small step up to the pavement, and another small step in front of the door. There was a screech from the gearbox as Daniel thrust the van into reverse and slammed backwards into the wide front door. Moonglow, arms covering her face, felt a severe jolt followed by a very loud crash. Wood and masonry crumbled under the violence of the impact, and the van filled with dust.

  They sat in shocked silence, unsure of what to do next. They heard the back door being wrenched open, and looked round in terror, expecting to find a werewolf hunter pointing a gun at them. It was Thrix. She leaned on the doorframe, supporting herself with difficulty. She seemed to be grinning though it was hard to be sure, with her lips badly cut and blood pouring down her face. Seconds later a werewolf hunter did appear. He was struggling, dazed from the smoke and the impact of the van. When he saw Thrix he started to slowly drag a gun from inside his jacket.

  Thrix realized that she was now outside the building, and free of the barrier that prevented her from using sorcery. “Rach ann an laige!” she said. “My enemies collapse in the dust.”

  As soon as she spoke, the hunter’s eyes closed and he fell unconscious to the ground. Thrix looked briefly triumphant. Then her head sagged as the last of her strength disappeared and she toppled forward. Dominil emerged from dust and smoke, her face red with blood. She carried Kalix, who was unmoving, and also covered in blood. Dominil
laid her in the back of the van.

  “Help me get the others,” she said. Dominil turned, but stumbled. She tried to rise, but could go no further. Moonglow and Vex scrambled to help her into the van. Daniel ran past them into the foyer where he almost fell over a huge werewolf who was crawling along the floor, dragging another werewolf behind him. He noticed another werewolf lying prone on the carpet and started to drag him toward the van. Moonglow came to meet him, and between them they lifted the stricken werewolf into the vehicle.

  “That’s six,” said Moonglow. “Is that everyone?”

  Dominil opened her eyes. “Three more,” she said.

  A man, who Daniel took to be hunter, emerged from the shadows, either unaffected by Thrix’s spell, or recovering. He paid them no attention, so eager was he to make his escape from the flames. He ran out of the shattered door.

  “Come on,” said Moonglow. “We can’t leave anyone.”

  Daniel, Moonglow and Vex ran back into the foyer. Moonglow stepped on something soft. She recognized Decembrius. He had been shot in the chest. Moonglow couldn’t tell if he was alive or not. She dragged his body away from the flames. As she attempted to hoist him into the van, a huge arm emerged to help.

  “Thanks,” said Moonglow. She recognized the huge werewolf. “I thought you were—”

  “I’m still alive.” Sarapen grimaced. He had many wounds, and much silver inside him.

  Vex and Daniel appeared, dragging two werewolves, both dead, as far as Moonglow could tell. She helped lift them into the van, and tried to ignore the feelings of nausea brought on by the carnage.

  “Time to go,” said Daniel. He clambered over the back of the seats, positioned himself in front of the steering wheel and drove off as fast as he dared. “Where am I going?” he yelled.

  “Kalix needs help,” shouted Moonglow from the back of the van.

  Kalix had numerous wounds and several of them were still bleeding badly. Moonglow put her hands over them, trying to stop the flow. She felt a twinge of hysteria. They needed help and there was no one to help them. Moonglow looked toward Thrix for assistance, but Thrix was unconscious. Moonglow could hardly imagine what had happened inside the building.