The Anxiety of Kalix the Werewolf (60 page)

“So you won't help?”

“I did not say that. What did you have in mind as a payment?”

“Whatever it costs.”

The Fire Queen laughed. “That is not a payment you should offer lightly to the Fire Queen. You encounter me here, a friend of Thrix, and you forget what I really am.”

A halo of golden flame appeared round Malveria's head. “I am the ruler of the Hiyasta, Wielder of Flame, Guardian of the Great Volcano. And for favors to mortals, I charge very highly.”

“Well?” said Dominil. “What do you want?”

The Fire Queen let the flames around her head dispel.

“My new shoes, at this moment. But I will consider your request. I will be in touch to tell you if I can help and what it will cost.”

Dominil nodded. The Fire Queen snapped her fingers and disappeared. Dominil let herself out of the flat and walked toward the lift, wondering just what sort of payment the Fire Queen might expect for her services. Whatever it was, Dominil knew she would feel an obligation to pay it. Sarapen was an enemy, but he was also a MacRinnalch werewolf. She couldn't leave him trapped in a hostile dimension.

CHAPTER 114

Thrix took the Fire Queen's advice, and traveled to Scotland the next day to consult the Fairy Queen. She approached Colburn Woods with some anxiety. Thrix knew she'd neglected the Fairy Queen in recent years. She hadn't paid her respects nearly as often as she should.

“I hope she's in a good mood.”

Thrix arrived in the Queen's private glade just as the Fairy Queen was scolding one of her subjects. Thrix halted at a respectful distance. She recognized the fairy with the slight bluish tinge to her skin, the great mass of thick black hair and delicate black wings. Teinn, bringer of ill health.

Queen Dithean raised her voice in anger. Teinn responded by giggling before somersaulting into the air. Her black wings flickered, too quickly to follow, and she darted into the cover of the trees. Queen Dithean shouted after her but there was no response. Thrix felt embarrassed, as if she'd arrived in the middle of a family argument.

“Have I come at a bad time?”

Queen Dithean flew over and floated in front of Thrix's face. “Not really. It's just Teinn misbehaving again.”

“That was a stern lecture. I am sure she won't do it again.”

The Fairy Queen laughed. “She will take no notice at all.” She changed her size, becoming human. “I keep Teinn mostly under control but she will break out occasionally.”

“Has she caused deaths among the local population?”

“No, though she started a terrible outbreak of flu in the village. As humans are so weak, that may carry some of them off. But flu will come to humans anyway, with or without Teinn. Unfortunately, she wasn't content with that. She will insist on spreading the most harmful gossip.”

Thrix walked with Dithean to the top of the mound. In the late summer the grass was thick and green. So were the surrounding trees. Everything in Queen Dithean's wood was lush and healthy.

“What did Teinn do?”

“She whispered in the postmistress's ear that her husband was having an affair with the wife of the man who owns the local garage. It's created a terrible scandal.”

“Was it true?”

“Yes, unfortunately.” The Fairy Queen frowned. “But while it remained private there was no great harm done. Now the village is in uproar. And I like that postmistress. She leaves whisky out for us. If she moves away, I'll be furious with Teinn.”

“But you have plenty of whisky.”

“True. But it is always nice to be treated with respect.”

“I brought you this scarf from London,” said Thrix immediately.

“Thank you! That is a lovely gift.”

Queen Dithean turned her face to the edge of the glade and clapped
her hands. Two fairies in bright yellow costumes flew forward and handed her tiny thimbles full of whisky and dew. The Fairy Queen thanked them, enlarged the thimbles and handed one to Thrix.

“
Slàinte mhath
,” said the Fairy Queen, wishing her guest good health.

“
Slàinte mhath
,” responded Thrix. They drained their glasses.

“It is some time since you last visited me.” The Fairy Queen looked pointedly at Thrix.

“Is it?”

“Yes.”

“I'm in London most of the time. I don't get much opportunity—”

“It's not flattering to be ignored, and visited only when you need something.”

Thrix felt a flash of temper but managed to suppress it. It would not pay to upset the Fairy Queen. “I'm sorry.”

“Not very, I'd say.”

There was a silence during which Thrix felt increasingly uncomfortable, like a child about to be lectured by an angry adult. She couldn't think of anything to say to smooth things over.

“Well,” said the Fairy Queen eventually. “What is it you need?”

“I'm looking for information about the stone dwarves' ‘House That Can't Be Found.' I asked Malveria but she seems reluctant to help.”

“Malveria does not like to talk of the stone dwarves. She has her reasons. Did she suggest that I could help?”

“Yes.”

“I might be able to.” Queen Dithean looked at Thrix as if trying to make up her mind whether to be helpful or not. “What did you want to know?”

“How to identify the house, principally. And I'd like to find out who inhabits it, if possible.”

“Is there such a house in this land?”

“So it would seem. Constructed in London by a renegade stone dwarf.”

The Fairy Queen turned her head to the south. Her eyes, unusually large and unusually blue, stared off into the far distance, as if she might be gazing all the way to London.

“I think it might be the headquarters of the Avenaris Guild,” said Thrix.

There was another silence, during which they could hear rustling in the nearby bushes. Animals always gravitated toward Queen Dithean and
would rest nearby, basking in her aura.

“If this house does turn out to be the headquarters of the hunters, what will happen?” asked the Fairy Queen. “Violence and death?”

“Most probably,” said Thrix.

“I am not fond of assisting death. Though I am an ally of the MacRinnalchs, or I was, when they paid me proper attention.”

Thrix sighed. “I haven't just been ignoring you, Dithean. I've ignored my business too. It's going to ruin. Everything is, since Minerva was killed. Won't you help me take revenge?”

Old Minerva, the werewolf sorceress, had been a good friend of the Fairy Queen, and her name struck a chord. The Fairy Queen's voice lost a little of its frostiness.

“The Maynista were clever builders. When they wanted something not to be found, it could not be found. No spell you have will penetrate or identify such a house. Nothing could be learned of it. By humans, anyway. Or werewolves.”

“What about fairies?”

The Fairy Queen chuckled. “We have magic that is older than the race of stone dwarves.” She summoned her attendants to refill their thimbles. “I noticed you drank with some alacrity.”

“I've been feeling the strain.”

The Fairy Queen could see the strain within Thrix. It seemed to her more than normal stress. There was great violence lurking inside her, waiting to come out.

The Fairy Queen folded her wings, quite somberly. “For me to let any of my sorcery be used outside my woods is no small matter. It weakens me, and lessens the protection I can give my people.”

“I appreciate that.”

“And if I were to help you, and weaken my lands, it's possible that the result will be your death. I'm not sure this would be a sensible use of my power.”

“I need to take revenge for Minerva,” insisted Thrix.

It seemed to Queen Dithean, as she studied Thrix, that the werewolf was expecting death, and was untroubled by it, provided she could take her enemies with her. That bothered the Fairy Queen, and she found it difficult to decide whether she should help or not.

CHAPTER 115

Kalix sat upstairs on a bus on her way to visit Manny. Her eyes were fixed firmly on the floor. When the bus suddenly filled up with schoolchildren, screaming, shouting and brandishing their phones, she didn't notice. She didn't even notice the delay caused by an extended argument between the driver and two children who'd forgotten their bus passes. Kalix was too preoccupied with her own thoughts. She was dreading meeting Manny. She didn't know what to tell him about Decembrius. She wasn't satisfied with Daniel and Vex's advice not to mention it. Nor was she happy with Moonglow's advice that she should tell him. Kalix tried peering in-between the two options to see if there might be a third, but there didn't seem to be.

Kalix's journal had seen a lot of activity in the last twenty-four hours. She'd marked herself very badly in every one of her self-help categories, and added some new ones that were all extremely self-critical.

She felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. She quailed when she saw it was a message from Manny. He's found out I slept with Decembrius, she thought. Kalix reluctantly opened the message, knowing she would be unable to withstand the hatred and malevolence it undoubtedly contained.

“Still in art shop meet me in café,” it said.

Kalix looked at the message, studying it closely for signs of hatred or malevolence. There didn't seem to be any. Really, there was no way that Manny could possibly know what Kalix had done, but for some reason she imagined he'd guess.

I'll never be able to lie about it. He'll know. I shouldn't lie anyway, I should just admit it
.

But then, reasoned Kalix, Manny would hate her and never want to see her again. Her head began to swim. It was all too difficult. She cursed Decembrius, and tried to put all the blame on him. Somehow that didn't work.

Kalix got off the bus at the stop nearest Manny's small flat and pointed herself toward the café. She stood there, unwilling to take another step. It was another warm afternoon, warmer than normal for the time of year. Kalix felt too hot in her coat. She'd known she didn't really need it, but felt in need of the protection it gave her from the outside world.

I'll just go and admit it, she told herself. Then it'll be over. I won't eat
any more afterward and I won't talk to anyone. Maybe Dominil will have found the Guild's headquarters and I can just charge in and get killed.

Heartened by the thought of never eating again, never talking to anyone and then dying in battle, Kalix forced herself to walk toward the café.

Manny was on the phone outside the café. His brother John had called him as he left the art shop.

“We've had some trouble at work. I don't think I'll be able to make it to your art show. Probably Dad won't either.”

Manny was disappointed. It was unusual for his brother and family to tell him they were having problems at work, though Manny remembered it had happened once or twice before. Some problems with financial markets, he supposed.

“I'm sorry we can't come.”

“That's OK.” Manny was disappointed. He'd have liked his family to see his new art.

“I'm doing some courier work next week,” he told his brother. “Delivering parcels. Maybe I'll see you up at Limehouse again.”

“Don't go near there!” said John, immediately, which was strange.

“What do you mean?”

“Don't go near these streets in Limehouse. It's not safe.”

“What do you mean it's not safe?”

“Just don't go there. I won't be able to meet you anyway. I have to go now, Dad's waiting on me.”

After the call Manny was puzzled. He wondered why his brother was so stressed. And what was he thinking, warning him not to go to Limehouse? He often delivered parcels around there on his bike. He stopped thinking about it when Kalix appeared. He smiled at her, then hugged her.

“Are you ready to eat?”

“OK,” said Kalix.

She didn't say anything else as they entered the café, but that was quite normal. Manny filled in the gaps in the conversation with some enthusiastic talk of his new paintings and his art show.

“You're still coming, right? I hoped my brother would be there, but he canceled. Some work crisis. It's a shame; I wanted you to meet him. He'd like you.”

CHAPTER 116

Distikka read the sign in the foyer: The exhibition presents highlights from the Courtauld Gallery's collection of Spanish drawings, and features examples by many of Spain's greatest artists, including Ribera, Murillo, Goya and Picasso. Distikka was interested. She liked Goya and Picasso and was keen to see the others. She was due to meet Mr. Carmichael but had purposely arrived early, allowing herself time to look at the exhibits.