Martin Millar - Lonely Werewolf Girl (82 page)

Thrix was anxious about Malveria's clothes. Could Princess
Kaba-chetka really have located them? Thrix fervently hoped that she
hadn't. Despite her weariness, she planned to return to Moonglow's flat
to find out. Kalix would be there, and Kalix now knew about Thrix's
entanglement with Gawain. The Enchantress anticipated more trouble, but
didn't really care. If her young sister felt like making trouble the
Enchantress was quite capable of defending herself.

Thrix rarely teleported, not being as gifted at this as
Malveria, but now she muttered the appropriate spell to transport
herself. The void through which she travelled seemed cold and hostile,
and she shivered as she stepped out into the street in Kennington. A
cab was drawing up. Daniel, Moonglow, Kalix and Vex emerged. No one
spoke. Thrix looked suspiciously at Kalix but the young werewolf hardly
seemed to notice her. She was hidden behind her dark glasses, and
staring at the ground. Moonglow fumbled with her keys, opened the door
and they all trooped up the stairs, in darkness.

"Is that sobbing?" asked Daniel, as they reached the top.

The Fire Queen was huddled on the couch in the living room,
and
sobbing
did not do justice to the depths of
her grief. Not only her face was wet, but her blouse too, where tears
mingled with the blood that still caked her clothes. The couch showed
some signs of singeing, as if Malveria had flared up in grief, but the
flames were now gone, drowned in her tears. Thrix went to her side and
placed her hand on her arm. The Fire Queen looked up.

"They're all gone," she gasped.

"All of them?"

"Burned," moaned Malveria, and was too grief-stricken to say
any more. The Enchantress withdrew and hurried upstairs to the loft.
Inside there was nothing left. The walls were scorched and the clothes
rails were empty. Princess Kabachetka had destroyed all of the Queen's
garments. Thrix's work had been for nothing. The Enchantress picked up
the charred remnants of an empty hat box, and fought back the tears.
She loved the clothes she made. It was more than a commercial
enterprise. She could have killed the Princess for doing this.

Thrix remembered how Malveria had recently come to her aid.
Feeling that it was her duty to comfort her friend in her hour of
grief, she left the attic, though her heart was so heavy, and
Malveria's grief so great, that she didn't know what she could possibly
say to make things better.

Daniel and Moonglow were sitting in silence. Moonglow was very
pale. The sight of Kalix killing Mikulanec had made her sick. It was
something she wished she hadn't seen. Kalix had disappeared to her
room. Only Vex was animated. The excitement of the gig had not worn off
and she was still eager to share it with everyone. Oblivious to the
gloom that pervaded the flat, she burbled on about her favourite songs
from the evening. Eventually Malveria raised her head.

"Please, Agrivex. For once in your life, be quiet."

Moonglow went off to Kalix's room to see how she was. She
feared that she young werewolf might now be cutting her own arm, as if
she didn't have enough injuries already. The Enchantress arrived
downstairs and put her arm round Malveria.

"I'll design you the most fabulous outfits for the next
occasion," she said.

"There will be no next occasion," sobbed Malveria. "I am
ruined. I can never leave my palace again."

Moonglow found Kalix asleep, still wrapped in her coat. The
room smelled heavily of laudanum. Moonglow removed Kalix's sunglasses
and boots, and drew the quilt over her. Then, as she looked round, she
saw something which made her smile. She hurried back to the front room
where Daniel was helping Malveria lift a small cup of tea to her lips.

"Your clothes are in Kalix's room," said Moonglow. "They're
all lying on the floor."

The Queen's eyes widened in surprise.

"Kalix has my clothes? This does not seem likely."

Moonglow and the Enchantress turned their eyes on Vex.

"Well, you know what Kalix is like," said Vex. "Always taking
things that don't belong to her."

Malveria rose imperiously to her full height.

"Miserable niece, this is your doing! How many of my clothes
are there?"

"How would I know?" protested Vex. "I never went near them.
Maybe a few outfits. Kalix made me do it."

By this time Malveria was hurrying through to Kalix's room,
closely pursued by the Enchantress. When they got there they found the
whole room strewn with dresses, shoes, hats, coats and accessories.

"What has my idiot niece been doing?" cried Malveria, sifting
frantically through the crumpled garments.

"Stand back," said Thrix, raising her arm. The Enchantress was
a master of all clothes magic, and swiftly cast a spell separating each
garment from the others and arranging them into their proper outfits.

"Most of it's here," said the Enchantress. "Vex must have been
trying them on and not bothered to put them back."

Malveria levitated several inches off the floor.

"It's a miracle. But they are so creased and wrinkled…"

"Don't worry," said Thrix. "I can fix it."

"Excellent," replied Malveria, who now seemed rejuvenated.
"While you do that, I am going to kill Agrivex."

Malveria floated swiftly back into the living room, grabbed
Vex by the throat and lifted her off the floor.

"Most miserable of never-to-be-adopted nieces! Even in the
murky history of your past crimes, there is nothing to compare with
this. You must die. The volcano awaits."

"Stop!" cried Moonglow.

Malveria looked at her politely.

"Yes?"

"You can't kill Vex."

"Whyever not?"

"She saved your clothes."

"It's true," said Thrix, returning to the room. "If she hadn't
moved them all, they'd have been destroyed by Kabachetka's spell."

"Exactly," cried Vex, squirming free of the Queen's grasp.
"Which is the important point. I cunningly saved your clothes."

"You did not cunningly save my clothes!"

"I did so! I knew they weren't safe in the attic. I was
protecting them. I should get a reward. New boots, maybe."

"Pah!" snapped Malveria. "I shall deal with you later. In a
harsh manner. Enchantress, what may be saved from the wreckage?"

"Most of it, I think."

The Enchantress was surrounded by a carousel of floating
clothes, and was busily checking each outfit.

"Most of your formal attire is here, and everything for the
next two days. There are some things missing for day four, but the ball
gown is undamaged. I can replace the missing clothes before you need
them."

"It is truly the most wonderful outcome!" exclaimed Malveria,
still several inches off the ground. "Still I am the mistress of
fashion. How Kabachetka will grieve when I appear - late, but not
intolerably so -at Livia's celebration, in the full glory of my new
attire."

The Enchantress pursed her lips.

"Except for one thing."

"What thing could that be?"

"Your best formal coat. For your entrance. You're wearing it.
Or what's left of it."

Malveria looked down at her coat. It was ripped in six places
and covered in blood. She descended to ground level, walked over to the
couch, and buried her face in a cushion.

"Couldn't you magic it better?" suggested Moonglow. The
Enchantress shook her head. Fine tailoring was all-important. Only last
week at Malveria's palace, Beau DeMortalis had discarded a very good
topcoat which had suffered the slightest of mishaps, no more than a
tiny scratch from a thorn bush.

"One cannot go around with magically repaired clothes," he'd
said. "Like a common labourer."

Malveria's coat was ruined. Not only that, the Queen had
kicked off her shoes before the fight began, and left them in Camden.
Thrix frantically tried to come up with an idea.

"Perhaps I could find something at the warehouse?" she
suggested.

"Ready made?" gasped Malveria, and began to weep.

"Does it need to be formal?" asked Daniel.

"Very. It is the most formal of formal entrances."

"Oh. That's a pity. Otherwise, what with the blood and
everything, you could have made your entrance as Triumphant Warrior
Queen."

"Please do not babble," said Malveria. "I have suffered enough
from Agrivex."

"But wouldn't just having come back from combat
sort of transcend fashion?"

"Nothing transcends fashion."

"Well it might be seen as fashion pretending to transcend
fashion," suggested Daniel, who had for some reason been paying
attention during his post-modern cultural identity lecture last week.
"Act as if you meant to go there wearing a ripped coat."

Thrix was not so dismissive of Daniel's idea.

"It's worth considering. Pretend you've chosen to arrive this
way. Get in your coach wearing your blood stained coat and carrying
your mace, and arrive as if you're saying,
Here is Malveria,
triumphant warrior queen, deliberately dressed in the wreckage of her
formal outfit, which is still more glorious than the clothes you 're
wearing
."

Malveria wrinkled her brow.

"It is a risky strategy in the face of Beau DeMortalis and his
merciless set-downs."

She mused for a few moments.

"It might be possible. No one else could carry it off,
certainly. But I am a triumphant warrior queen, am I not?"

"You were fabulous in battle," said Thrix, reassuringly.

Malveria looked down at her torn coat with dissatisfaction.

"But the rips are all wrong. They do not match. And the blood
stains are very poorly arranged." She rose, rather nimbly. "Come,
dearest Enchantress, you must help me bring some order to this chaos."

Malveria kissed Daniel on the cheek, to thank him for his
suggestion. He blushed, as he always did. Malveria laughed, then headed
for the attic with Thrix, to re-arrange her clothing. There they set
about adding to the damage in some areas to make it more aesthetically
pleasing.

"We're going to have to do something about your jewellery,"
said Thrix. "The emeralds just don't go with the blood."

She thought for a moment.

"Do you still have the necklace Agrivex bought you?"

"The unpleasant trinket featuring axes? Not suitable, surely?"

"Do you have it?"

Malveria brought it out from her bag.

"It appears to be still with me, by coincidence."

Thrix fastened it round Malveria's neck. The Fire Queen
nodded. It would do.

"It was cunning of the Princess to construct such a powerful
spell," said Malveria. "But have you wondered how she located the
clothes? She must have received information."

"From who?"

"I regret to say this, but I can see traces of the vile
Kabachetka's aura on Moonglow."

"That's because she encountered Kabachetka outside the gig."

Malveria was dubious. Though the traces were faint and very
difficult to interpret, she believed that Moonglow may have met the
Princess on more than one occasion.

"Surely you'd have noticed it earlier?" said Thrix.

"If they did meet before, Kabachetka herself may have taken
care to remove all traces from the girl."

The Enchantress found it hard to believe that Moonglow would
have betrayed the Fire Queen. It would have been out of character.

"Moonglow has been out of character in recent days," pointed
out the Fire Queen.

Downstairs, Daniel and Moonglow were sitting next to each
other on the couch.

"Do you still feel sick?" asked Daniel.

Moonglow nodded. Daniel put his arm round her, and she rested
her head on his shoulder. They sat in front of the TV, and let the
trauma of the evening fade away.

230

Two nights had passed since Markus's fight with Wallace
MacGregor. With the moon large in the sky, the MacRinnalchs in the
castle had revelled as werewolves. News had spread that Sarapen was
dead. The besieging forces had not withdrawn but no one now feared an
attack; the war was surely over. The Mistress of the Werewolves called
a meeting of the Great Council for the night after the full moon and
the inhabitants of the castle waited eagerly to see which members of
the council would arrive.

There was a wave of excitement when Dominil, Beauty and
Delicious walked through the castle gates. Dominil was a familiar
figure but the werewolves welcomed her back with increased respect. The
story of her part in the battle in London was already well known.
Dominil had never been well liked at the castle. Her manner made it
difficult to warm to her. However, no werewolf from either side of the
dispute could fail to show her respect after her endeavours.

There was widespread amazement that Dominil had somehow
persuaded the notoriously anti-social sisters Butix and Delix to return
to Scotland for the council meeting. No one had ever expected to see
them at the castle again. Some of the younger werewolves, children
who'd never seen the twins, hung from their windows around the
courtyard, awe-struck at the sight of their great manes of pink and
blue hair. Werewolf parents sighed, and told their offspring that no,
they could not do the same to their hair, and nor could they leave
immediately for London to start bands, live riotously and bring shame
on the clan. And they certainly couldn't change their names to anything
ridiculous like Beauty and Delicious.

Tupan was waiting to greet his daughter, and they embraced,
rather formally, as was normal. The Enchantress arrived a little later
in the day. As she entered the castle she was on her phone, talking to
Ann about Malveria's outfit for tonight. She regretted taking time out
from her schedule to come to the council meeting, but felt she couldn't
really miss it. Her mother would complain terribly.

Of the other members of the council, Verasa, Markus, Dulupina,
Lucia, Kurian and Kertal were all inside the castle. As Sarapen was
dead, Lucia's son Decembrius was due to take his place on the council
but the appointment had not yet been ratified. Decembrius remained in
London. This left only the three Barons, and Marwanis. Night was
falling and the snow was deep on the ground before they arrived. They
came together, and entered sullenly through the gates, to be greeted
courteously by the Mistress of the Werewolves. The Barons accepted her
welcome civily, even young Douglas MacAllister. Only Marwanis remained
aloof. Marwanis would hate the Mistress of the Werewolves forever, and
everyone who had contributed to Sarapen's downfall.