Martin Millar - Lonely Werewolf Girl (29 page)

"Very bored," admitted Malveria. "Sometimes I regret that I so
completely vanquished my enemies. But I am forgetting - tomorrow I will
meet the daughter of my ambassador to the cursed Empress Asaratanti. I
may learn of the spy who torments us. How I will make the culprit
suffer!"

Thrix's head was drooping. She muttered a word and released
the spell that was preventing her transformation. As the werewolf form
came upon her she sighed like a woman slipping off an uncomfortable
pair of shoes after a long day's shopping.

"Ah, Thrix, you feel the effects of too much wine? I hope you
did not put the man off with drunkenness? It is never ladylike, you
know."

"He was put off long before I got drunk."

"Drink more coffee and become awake," said Malveria. "Because
tonight, if my memory does not play cruel tricks, is the night of the
wonderful Japanese fashion show on your excellent television of many,
many channels."

The Fire Queen switched on the television and worked the
remote control with the triumphant air of a woman who, although living
in a realm where technology was very basic, had nonetheless mastered
the art. She shrieked with excitement as a young Japanese model floated
across the screen in a black kimono. The Queen was even more obsessed
with clothes than usual. Nothing in her life was more important than
the prospect of securing a great fashion triumph at the Sorceress
Livia's upcoming birthday celebration.

81

Kalix woke up and wondered where she was. She remembered that
she was in Daniel and Moonglow's flat. She thought about watching TV,
and smiled. Then she thought about all the food she'd eaten the night
before and immediately felt ill.

Moonglow put her head through the door of the bathroom as
Kalix was vomiting profusely. Wary of being struck again, she let Kalix
be. Kalix threw up for a long time then trooped past Moonglow without
even looking at her. Kalix was once more a mess. Her hair was matted
with sweat and the front of her T-shirt was stained with her vomit. The
young werewolf went downstairs, took water from the kitchen, then
wrapped herself up in her quilt on the floor, and sipped from her new
bottle of laudanum. Kalix was again feeling anxious. Though the attack
was not as severe as the previous day, she was sweating and trembling.
She took more laudanum and a pill. She could sense Daniel and Moonglow
hovering in the background and wanted them to go away. Kalix felt
deeply suspicious of their motives and wondered why they had asked her
to remain. Once her strength returned she resolved that she would leave
and never come back.

Daniel and Moonglow withdrew to the kitchen to confer.

"Things can't go on like this," whispered Moonglow.

"She likes eating when she's a werewolf and then it drives her
crazy when she's human."

"What's in that bottle she drinks from?"

They didn't know. Werewolf medicine perhaps. Kalix was very
protective of her bottle and wouldn't let anyone near it.

"We really have to do something," said Moonglow. "Perhaps we
should go to see Thrix again."

Daniel was not enthusiastic. Last time they'd visited Thrix,
not only had the blonde-haired werewolf been hostile but they'd had to
hide from other scary werewolves.

"Anyway, I felt self-conscious being surrounded by all that
fashion and glamour."

"Hey, I'm suffering too," said Moonglow. "Between Kalix, Thrix
and the Fire Queen I'm starting to feel fat. How come they're all so
slender?"

"You're slender too," said Daniel, loyally. This was true, but
after exposure to the extreme glamour of the Enchantress and the Fire
Queen, and the wild and youthful beauty of Kalix, anyone was entitled
to feel a little threatened.

They were interrupted by a noise outside. Kalix was limping
towards the front door, her tattered bag in her hand and her ragged
coat draped round her shoulders. Moonglow marched quickly to the door
and stood in front of Kalix, barring her way.

"This has got to stop," she said. "And don't you dare try and
hit me again after I looked after you and gave you somewhere to sleep."

Daniel looked round for something to use as a weapon in case
Kalix sprang at Moonglow and started savaging her. But Kalix seemed
drowsier than she had yesterday morning.

"Stay here and we can sort out your problems," said Moonglow.

"Stupid human," muttered Kalix.

"Well maybe," responded Moonglow. "But I'm a better
alternative than anything else you have. Why do you want to go and live
in a warehouse again when you can stay here where it's warm and comfy?"

"And watch Sabrina the Teenage Witch," added Daniel.

"We'll clear out the small room for you," continued Moonglow.
"And you can stay there and it'll be nice."

"You can play your music," said Daniel, and smiled, without
drawing any response.

"Really you should stay," insisted Moonglow.

Kalix swayed on her feet and abruptly collapsed on the floor.
Her eyes remained open for a few seconds then closed as she drifted
into unconsciousness. They carried her back to the front room, taking
care not to trample on her hair which splayed out beneath her.

"It's funny," said Daniel. "A few weeks ago, I'd never have
expected to be wrapping a werewolf in a quilt and giving her a hot
water bottle. Now it's almost second nature."

82

North of the river in Camden, MacRinnalch werewolves were
involved in another unfriendly scene. Beauty and Delicious, recovering
swiftly from their whisky-soaked celebrations of the night before,
regarded Dominil with the same sense of derision they felt towards the
rest of the family.

"I mean, you've got nice hair," said Beauty. "Good leather
coat as well. But really, why would we want you to help us?"

"It's ridiculous," added Delicious. "The Mistress of the
Werewolves must be losing her mind. She thinks some hick from a castle
in Scotland is going to help our band to succeed?"

"Tell her thanks but no thanks."

"But say we really enjoyed the whisky."

"Ask her to send us more."

Dominil was untroubled by being refereed to as a hick from a
castle. She was not even troubled by the sisters' failure to offer her
anything to drink, a breach of MacRinnalch hospitality. Having accepted
the mission from Verasa, she didn't intend to be put off by the girls'
poor manners.

"The MacRinnalchs have considerable resources to put behind
you," she pointed out.

"So what?" scoffed Beauty. "We have considerable resources of
our own."

This was true. The sisters were wealthy, far wealthier than
Dominil. Her share of the family money was still controlled by her
father Tupan. While he had never denied her anything she wanted,
neither had he turned over any substantial portion to her control.

"Yes, I understand you are not short of funds. I also
understand that you have been living here for several years and in that
time have made the acquaintance of many musicians. Presumably you have
also made the acquaintance of those people who are involved in the
production side of the industry. I see from this room alone that you
have a great deal in the way of instruments. And if your own claims may
be believed, you are both excellent musicians and singers."

Dominil sipped at her coffee and, uninvited, picked up a
bottle of whisky from the floor and poured the remnants into her cup.

"So why is it," she continued. "That you have failed to make
any impression? You no longer even have a band. In the short walk
between Camden High Street and here I saw posters everywhere
advertising gigs at small venues. It would seem that it's not difficult
to at least make a start. You do not yet appear to have done so."

"Well…" said Beauty, and paused. She looked at her sister.

"It takes time," said Delicious.

Dominil let her eyes roam round the room, at the mess and
clutter everywhere, and the signs of continual partying. She could see
very clearly why the sisters were not making any progress.

"You did play onstage several times in the past. So you have
in fact gone backwards. The reasons for this are obvious. You have no
application and no direction. In reality you have very little prospects
of success. No normal manager would be able to tolerate you for more
than a few days. Left to your own devices you will remain in this house
getting drunker and drunker, talking about the great music you're going
to make in the future, without ever going so far as walking onto a
stage again. I imagine that within a short time you'll become a
laughing stock as the boys you brag to in the local taverns realise you
are nothing but talk. I understand that being
nothing but
talk
is a common attribute among musicians. Is this what you
desire?"

Beauty and Delicious looked at each other uncomfortably.
Hearing their future mapped out in Dominil's cold, authoritative tones
was not pleasant.

"Why don't you just go back to Scotland, bitch?" growled
Beauty.

Delicious also growled a hostile, wolfish growl, but when it
ended she looked at Dominil with just a flicker of interest. Delicious
had once, a few months ago, thought something very similar to what
Dominil had just said. She'd suppressed the thought and almost
forgotten all about it. Now she remembered her own apprehensions about
never walking onto a stage again.

"So what would you do?" she asked.

"You will explain to me what is required and I will make it
happen," replied Dominil.

83

Thrix woke up a little hungover and very depressed.

'Poor Donald,' she thought. 'That was probably the worst date
of his life. How am I going to explain it to Ann?'

"I should never have agreed to go," she muttered, wrapping
herself in a dressing gown and heading for the shower. Malveria had
stayed last night in the guest bedroom. As Thrix emerged from the
shower the Fire Queen appeared, a broad smile on her face, to wish her
a good morning.

"Have you got over the disappointment of last night's
calamitous encounter?"

"Just about."

"I will make coffee. Do you have any pop-tarts?"

The Enchantress shook her head, bemused that the Fire Queen
should make such a request.

The door buzzer rang. Thrix made a face.

"Dominil. I forgot she was coming."

Thrix hurried to dress while Dominil rode up in the lift. The
Fire Queen opened the door to her and greeted her politely. As Dominil
walked into the room Malveria eyed her ankle length leather coat with
envy. She had several herself, made in her own realm, but she felt that
none was quite so finely cut as Dominil's.

"Thrix will be out shortly. Would you like tea?" asked
Malveria, who had decided to play the part of an excellent host.

Dominil nodded. She took a seat and sat in silence. Dominil
sat very elegantly, her back straight. As Malveria brought her tea she
tried to read her aura. Hiyastas could often learn a lot about a person
just by examining them. Dominil's aura, however, was not very
revealing. The white-haired werewolf's emotions were buried very
deeply, too deeply to reveal themselves to a cursory examination from
even such a mistress of interpretation as Malveria.

Thrix emerged, looking, Malveria noticed, rather radiant.
'Ah,' thought the Fire Queen. 'She does not wish to suffer in
comparison to her cousin's beauty.'

"Good morning, Dominil. This is an early visit. Are you
already settled in London?"

"The Mistress of the Werewolves has made satisfactory
arrangements for me," replied Dominil. "If you will excuse my brevity,
I will not remain here for long. I have much to do today."

"Helping the twins?"

"Yes."

The Enchantress was as puzzled as everyone else by Dominil's
acceptance of the task, and wondered how she intended to go about it.

"Are you going to make them pop stars?"

"That is not what they require," replied Dominil. "At least,
not yet. First they wish to obtain credibility among their peers."

"Credibility?"

Dominil nodded.

"It appears that success is not everything. When I suggested
that a large sum of money from the MacRinnalch vaults might be enough
to buy them successful music careers, they were unenthusiastic. I was
surprised. I had assumed it would be possible to purchase everything
that was necessary. Songs, musicians, advertising, radio play and such
like. And indeed after talking to them I learn that it is possible to
gain success of a sort by these methods, but it is not what they wish."

Thrix, despite being put off by her cousin's rather formal
manner, found herself interested in what she had to say. Dominil
explained that the sisters desperately wanted the respect of the people
they knew in Camden.

"They live in a community which is full of struggling
musicians. Were they to buy their way to success the other struggling
musicians would simply hate them. To avoid this it is apparently
necessary to do things in a rather more difficult manner. They must
play small gigs at which people they know must acknowledge them to be
worthwhile. They must attract attention from journalists and record
companies on their own merits, rather than by bribery. In short, they
must do things with credibility."

"In particular," continued Dominil. "They wish to surpass the
achievements of four boys who live above a shop not far from them. The
twins dislike them. The four boys once mocked them for being rich
girls, another reason they refuse to buy their way to success. These
four boys have a band of their own and are beginning to generate
interest. Beauty and Delicious are eaten up with jealousy. I believe if
I can put them on a footing which is even slightly superior to that of
their rivals, they may actually be grateful enough to do what the
Mistress of the Werewolves wishes, and vote for Markus."