Martin Millar - Lonely Werewolf Girl (42 page)

Thrix noticed where they were and abruptly instructed the
driver to stop the cab. She paid for her ride, climbed out of the taxi
then looked around her with a malevolent expression. It was cold, and
teeming with rain, but Thrix paid no attention to the weather. This
small street, just north of Oxford Street, was home to Zatek's
headquarters. It was now two in the morning and no one was around apart
from a tramp who slept in a doorway nearby, wrapped in a filthy blanket
with a layer of cardboard beneath him. Thrix scanned the dark buildings
around her. She soon found what she was looking for. One of the
buildings positively radiated magic. Thrix marched towards it, her high
heels clicking on the pavement, her eyes narrowed to slits. So Zatek
thought he could spy on the Enchantress. A bad mistake.

Thrix stood in front of his building. It was protected by a
spell. A very minor spell, thought Thrix, examining it with her own
sorcery. Not nearly enough to protect Zatek from the wrath of Thrix
MacRin-nalch: werewolf, enchantress, and currently in a really bad
mood. Zatek was about to learn the power of a true sorceress. The
Enchantress brushed her wet hair from her face, then chanted a spell to
burst through Zatek's protection. The magic Thrix used was powerful. It
would cause such devastation in Zatek's headquarters that he would
never dare meddle with the Enchantress again. A bolt of energy flashed
from her fingertips towards the building. Thrix laughed. This felt
good. She should have done it before.

Unexpectedly, the bolt of energy bounced off the wall, and
struck Thrix. She was thrown all the way across the street and landed
unconscious on the opposite pavement. Sparks of blue light flickered
around her body. The Enchantress lay motionless in the rain, her golden
hair splayed out around her. Further up the road the tramp slumbered on
undisturbed. In the next street, a few late night travellers, seeing
the flashes of light, thought that a thunderstorm had begun. They
pulled their coats around them and hurried home as quickly as they
could.

113

As Daniel had predicted, Moonglow was not in the best of
moods. When she woke up on the floor of the living room beside Jay she
was stiff, cold, and very dissatisfied with last night's events. The
evening had started off well, but from the moment Kalix stumbled in and
crashed into Jay, it had gone terribly wrong. It had been bad enough
having an intoxicated girl falling all over the place, but why had
Daniel insisted on starting a foolish argument about Motorhead?
Daniel's music obsessions were usually quite funny but there was no
excuse for using them to harass her boyfriend. And why had Malveria and
Thrix chosen that moment to arrive? The Fire Queen hadn't really seemed
to take to Jay. That was no reason to mock his theories on Stonehenge
thought Moonglow, angrily. Worst of all had been Malve-ria's unexpected
decision to stay the night in Moonglow's bed. In response to Jay's
questioning look Moonglow could only explain, rather lamely, that her
friend Jane was slightly eccentric, and needed to have her whims
indulged.

"Couldn't you indulge them another time?" suggested Jay.

"Sorry," said Moonglow. "But I'm sure we can be comfy on the
floor."

They hadn't been. Moonglow had tried to make the best of it,
even suggesting that it was quite romantic, but Jay hadn't seen it that
way. When Moonglow tried to get close to him he'd claimed to be tired,
and turned over.

Moonglow's resentment did not last for long. Really, she was
too good-natured for that. By the time she was getting off the bus
outside college, she was almost back to her normal self. She gave her
seminar, leading a small group of students through a translation of a
Sumerian text. The text in itself was not that interesting, being
mainly a list of the crops produced by farms belonging to the King of
Ur, but it had been a challenging task. She was gratified when her
tutor congratulated her on her excellent work.

Almost next door to King's College was Brettenham House, a
large Georgian building which had been renovated a few years ago. It
was hidden away behind a small doorway in the Strand, but once through
the door a visitor arrived in a grand courtyard full of fountains.
Today was damp and chilly, and not really the time for admiring
architecture, but after her seminar Moonglow took a walk there anyway,
wanting some fresh air before her afternoon classes. There were few
people in the courtyard. Moonglow shivered in the cold. She decided
against sitting down. She'd just walk round before heading back.

A tramp sat on one of the chairs in the courtyard. Not old,
but lost and hopeless looking. Dirty and unshaven, he looked forlornly
at the paving stones in front of him. A pathetic young man with the
weight of the world on his shoulders, from the looks of him. Moonglow
felt sorry for him. She fished in her quaint little purse for some
money. The young man did not look up. Moonglow noticed that he was
wearing what had once been a smart suit, though it was now very ragged.
His hair was rather long, matted, and seemed to be stained with blood.

"Do you want - " began Moonglow, trying to attract his
attention so he would take the coins.

The tramp looked up. Moonglow took a step back. She almost ran
away but there was something too hopeless about him for her to run.

"Markus?" she said.

Markus looked right through her. He didn't recognise her.
Moonglow stood there staring, not knowing what to do. She should leave.
This was the werewolf who had brutally attacked Kalix. He couldn't be
trusted. But he looked so pathetic.

"Markus? What happened?"

Markus didn't answer. Moonglow stood in front of him, unsure
whether to leave him there or help him. She didn't know why she should
be helping him. It was foolish to get involved with Kalix's enemies.
The rain intensified. Moonglow was too moved by sympathy to just walk
away.

"Do you need help?" she asked.

Markus didn't respond. Moonglow could see that he was in shock.

"Markus," she said, quite loudly. "What's the matter?"

Markus lifted his face a fraction of an inch.

"Talixia," he said. A look of anguish spread over his
features. Moonglow didn't know what
Talixia
meant. As far as she could see, Markus's injuries weren't serious. If
she could just get him home, he could rest and recover. She'd
already seen the healing powers that the werewolves had.

"Where do you live?"

Markus didn't respond. Moonglow had now had enough of standing
in the rain so she took Markus's hand and helped him gently to his
feet. He didn't protest. She led him back to King's College, downstairs
to one of the men's washrooms. Moonglow would probably have to take
Markus home in a taxi and she knew that a London taxi driver would
object to picking up a fare with blood on his face.

"Wash your face," she instructed, "And then you can go home."

Markus stood dumbly in front of the basin. Moonglow sighed,
and took a handkerchief from her bag. Here she was, washing another
werewolf. It was very strange, when you thought about it. She gently
dabbed the dirt and blood from his face. All the while he stood
unprotesting like a man in a trance. Soon he was looking better. Not
great, with his suit ripped, but not so bad that a taxi driver would
refuse to pick him up.

"Now," said Moonglow. "I'm going to check your wallet. Don't
do anything crazy."

She felt around inside Markus's jacket and found his wallet.

"Is this where you live?"

Markus nodded.

"Then let's go."

As they crawled through the heavy London traffic, Moonglow
again wondered why she was doing this. She couldn't have explained why
exactly. The taxi dropped them off in Bayswater and Moonglow led Markus
towards the door of his apartment block. She was about to start hunting
in his pockets for keys when she found herself abruptly confronted by
two men, both dark haired, both with the look of the MacRinnalchs about
them. They regarded Moonglow with suspicion.

"Who are you?"

"I found him sitting on a bench," replied Moonglow, not
wanting to give out her name.

"We'll take him from here."

Moonglow moved protectively in front of Markus.

"Why? Who are you?"

"Gregor MacRinnalch," said one of the men. "I work for Markus."

Markus seemed to come back into the contact with the real
world. He spoke to Moonglow in a quiet voice.

"It's all right," he said. "I know Gregor. He'll
look after me now. Thanks
for helping me."

With that, Markus left, led of by Gregor. Moonglow watched as
they took him inside. She couldn't afford a taxi back to college so she
headed for the nearest tube station. She had missed her first English
lecture of the afternoon but if she hurried she might make the next.

114

Thrix woke up in her office. Gawain was
standing over her. She leapt to her feet.

"What happened?"

"I found you unconscious in the street. I brought you here."

The Enchantress remembered her spell bouncing back off Zatek's
building. Not only had her spell been deflected it had come back onto
Thrix with terrific force and were it not for the strength of her own
magical protection it might well have killed her. Obviously she had
seriously underestimated Zatek's power. It was something to worry about
later, after she'd dealt with Gawain.

Thrix's outfit was ruined and her hair was streaked with muddy
water. It was humiliating to have Gawain see her in this condition.
Fortunately she was uninjured, apart from a few bruises.

"Were you following me?" she demanded.

Gawain shook his head.

"I was travelling through the city when I scented a werewolf
in
trouble. It turned out to be you."

"An odd co-incidence," said Thrix, suspiciously.

"Perhaps," admitted Gawain.

The Enchantress realised that she was being ungrateful. It had
been quite gallant of him to pick her up off the street and carry her
to safety. She thanked him, a little stiffly, then brought out her
MacRinnalch whisky from her cabinet. She poured herself a very large
drink and offered a glass to Gawain which he accepted. Gawain did not
ask what had happened to the Enchantress, regarding it as not his
business. He did look pointedly at her.

"I was intending to visit you again."

"About Kalix, I suppose?"

After the aggravation which Thrix had suffered this night, she
was not pleased to find herself once more subject to interrogation. It
occurred to her to blast Gawain with a spell. That would teach him to
annoy her with questions. But then she felt tired of it all. 'To hell
with it,' she thought. 'I don't care if he knows where Kalix is or not.
Mother can sort it out, she's the one that cares about all this.' She
finished her whisky and poured herself another. Her supply of the
MacRinnalch malt was running low, a result of the stress she'd been
feeling recently. She'd either have to stop feeling so stressed or,
more likely, ask her mother to send another crate.

"Gawain. There is nothing in the world that you could do to
force information out of me. Apart from maybe bore me to death, which
is possible. If I wanted to I'd send you out my office as a small pile
of ashes. But to tell you the truth, I can't be bothered. And, I
suppose, I owe you for the rescue. If you want to see Kalix, fine, go
and see her. No doubt disaster will ensue but that's not my problem."

The Enchantress told Gawain the address in Kennington.

"She's living with two students. Don't harm them, they've been
looking after her well."

Gawain nodded. As he was leaving the office he paused, and
looked over to the sketches on her desk.

"You're a fine artist, Thrix MacRinnalch," he said, then
disappeared.

'A rather incongruous time for a compliment,' thought Thrix.
Perhaps it was Gawain's way of thanking her for her help. He did have
something of the gentleman about him, though he was still young and
rough round the edges.

Thrix felt too tired to go home. She removed her wet outer
garments, took a coat from the clothes rack and lay down on the couch,
using the coat as a blanket and a cushion as a pillow. It wasn't the
first time she'd spent the night in her office. At least it would allow
her to make an early start in the morning. Before she fell asleep she
wondered what her old teacher Minerva MacRinnalch would have had to say
about the night's events. Thrix had originally learned her sorcery from
Minerva, studying with her for almost six years. Since then Thrix had
learned a good deal more, but the foundation of everything she knew
came from Minerva. Including, Thrix now recalled, the advice never to
take petty revenge by means of sorcery. Followed by the advice that if
you were unable to resist taking petty revenge, then make sure you did
it right. Thrix shuddered to think what old Minerva would have to say
about her student ending up unconscious in a puddle. Fortunately
Minerva had retired to a very remote mountain top and rarely ventured
into the world these days.

The Enchantress transformed into her werewolf shape. It would
renew her strength. By morning she would be fine. She drifted off to
sleep, comforted by thoughts of her old teacher, whom she had liked a
good deal more than any member of her family.

115

Delicious drove back to Camden. By the time they reached their
house the twins were in good spirits. The danger was over, they were
safe, and no werewolf would dwell for too long on an attack by the
Avenaris Guild.

Dominil was thoughtful, and remained silent all the way home.
Kalix was intrigued to meet them all, though nervous. It was strange,
meeting werewolves from her family who weren't trying to drag her back
to Scotland. It was still a surprise to find Dominil associating with
the twins. They were outcasts from the family. Not hated perhaps, and
not hunted like Kalix, but outcasts all the same.