The Anxiety of Kalix the Werewolf (18 page)

The clan can agree to go to war with the Guild or not, she thought. I don't care. I'm going to war, on my own if necessary.

Since arriving at the castle she'd been gripped with bursts of extreme emotion that she was finding difficult to control. One had been so powerful that a little magic had inadvertently leaked from her hand, destroying her bedside chair. The grief was so powerful it felt as if it might overwhelm her and cause her to become irrational. Minerva wouldn't have approved. The thought of what Minerva might have approved of brought on another wave of rage. Thrix shuddered, clenched her fists to control herself, then hurried from the room. She headed toward the council chamber with the thought that she'd be doing well if she made it through the meeting without screaming at everyone. Not every member of the clan had held Minerva in the same regard as the Enchantress.

As always, for their nighttime meetings the council chamber was warmed by a great log fire and torches burned on the walls. The room was hung with tapestries and banners in the dark green MacRinnalch tartan. There were pitchers of water on the circular oak table and a large decanter of the clan whisky. Already at the table were Clan Secretary Rainal, Dominil and her father Tupan. They rose as the Thane and the Mistress of the Werewolves entered. The three barons, talking together in a corner, bowed their heads slightly in greeting and waited for them to be seated before taking their own places. Moments later, Kurian and his son Kertal entered the chamber.

As Rainal was about to start the meeting, Lucia, Verasa's sister, hurried in, looking apologetic. She took her seat swiftly.

“I believe that's everyone,” began the secretary. “Thane Markus, the Mistress of the Werewolves, Baron MacAllister, Baron MacGregor, Baron MacPhee, Thrix MacRinnalch, Lucia MacRinnalch, Tupan MacRinnalch, Dominil MacRinnalch, Kurian MacRinnalch and Kertal MacRinnalch. Council members not present are Marwanis, Butix, Delix, Dulupina, Decembrius and Kalix. Clan statutes allow for a meeting of the Great Council comprising eleven members.”

“It's not good though,” said Kurian, a brother of the late Thane who was just starting to turn gray with age. “We never have a full turnout these days.”

“In my day, it was an honor to be on the council,” said Tupan, who was only a few years younger than his brother Kurian. “No one failed to attend.”

“Things are rather different these days,” said Verasa. “Not all werewolves live close to the castle.”

Beside Verasa, her sister Lucia was looking shamefaced. It was a continual embarrassment to her that her son Decembrius didn't attend meetings. She'd been proud when he'd been elected to the council, but he'd let her down. Thrix clenched her fists under the table. A MacRinnalch as a werewolf, while quite rational, did tend to have a shorter temper than a MacRinnalch as a human. She reached out and poured herself a glass of whisky.

“Perhaps it's time we looked at the membership?” said Baron MacPhee. The Baron was a huge werewolf. While loyal to the MacRinnalchs, he was senior enough to make such a suggestion. “Some of our absent members seem unlikely ever to attend.”

“You mean Kalix?” said Kertal.

“And Butix and Delix,” added Tupan. Tupan didn't approve of the twins. The only time in recent memory that the twins had shown up for a council meeting, they'd been bribed to attend by the Mistress of the Werewolves. Verasa had needed their votes to ensure Markus's election as Thane. Those werewolves who'd supported Sarapen still resented it. Though Verasa had worked assiduously since the end of the feud to bring the clan back into harmony, some annoyance lingered on.

“I'm sure Butix and Delix will take up their positions in due course,” said Verasa smoothly. “Perhaps when they're a little older.”

“Decembrius will be here next month, I'm certain,” said Lucia.

No one believed her, though no one was rude enough to say it.

“Perhaps Marwanis . . .” began the Mistress of the Werewolves.

Young Baron MacAllister laughed. He'd seen his father and his
brother killed in the deadly feud. “Marwanis isn't coming back. And, incidentally, she tells you all to go to hell.”

Marwanis had been a strong supporter of Sarapen. She'd left the castle in fury after his defeat, and now resided at Baron MacGregor's keep. Verasa had made several peaceful overtures to her, none of which had brought any response.

“As for Kalix—” began Tupan.

“Enough of this!” roared Thrix, and slammed her palm into the table, causing it to vibrate. “Minerva was murdered and I want to talk about it!”

There was a surprised silence.

“We'll get to it—” said the Mistress of the Werewolves.

“I want to talk about it now!”

Verasa looked toward Rainal.

“We could alter our agenda—”

“Good!” Thrix rose to her feet and leaned forward so that the long blonde hair around her shoulders hung on the table.

“The Avenaris Guild killed Minerva. I want revenge. We've backed off for too long and now this has happened. We should have moved against them long ago.”

Thrix turned to look accusingly at her mother and her brother. “The clan thought it was safe because the Guild was far away in London. So we let them get away with the occasional werewolf killing for the sake of not getting ourselves involved in a war. For a quiet life. Because you're all so worried about the outside world intruding into your cozy little castle. Well, now they're almost here. If the hunters can kill Minerva on her mountain then they can strike anywhere. We have to take action.”

Thrix slammed her paw on the table again. “I'll be taking action anyway. But I'd prefer if the clan helped.”

Baron MacPhee spoke. He was a huge, rotund figure, with a deep voice to match. “Before discussing action, could we have a report? All I know is that Minerva's been killed. I haven't heard how it happened.”

“She was shot,” said Thrix. “A rifle, I think, which is unusual.”

“Didn't she have spells protecting her?” asked Tupan.

Thrix looked at him suspiciously, wondering if he was hinting at disapproval for Minerva's sorcery.

“Minerva had retired. She rarely used magic for anything. She'd gone beyond it. She was living out her life peacefully.”

“What did you find when you examined the area?” asked Markus. Thrix's forensic skills were well known. The Enchantress could learn a lot
about any werewolf death by studying the surroundings.

Thrix sat down. “I didn't really examine the area. I was too upset. I took Minerva back to the top of the mountain and then I . . .” She fell silent.

“So you didn't see any trace of her attackers?” asked Markus.

“It wasn't Thrix who discovered the body,” said Dominil. “It was me.”

There was some surprise at this. Tupan turned to his daughter. “You found Minerva? What were you doing there?”

Dominil didn't answer. There was a long pause.

“What were you doing there?” asked Tupan again.

“I'd rather not say.”

“This is unsatisfactory,” said the elderly Baron MacGregor. “How can we discuss it if we don't know the circumstances?”

Thrix's temper welled up again. “Dominil took Kalix to see Minerva because Minerva was going to help her get off laudanum,” she said. “But Kalix took an overdose on the way so they were late arriving. Minerva was left on her own, waiting for them. An old woman without any protection. That's when she was killed.”

“Ah,” said Tupan. “Kalix.”

There was muttering around the table. No one was surprised to learn that Kalix had been involved. She was outlawed and known to be insane. The Mistress of the Werewolves sat stony-faced, not wishing to hear ill of her youngest daughter, but Thrix's eyes blazed with anger.

“Yes, Kalix! Kalix and her laudanum addiction caused further destruction!” Thrix raised her paw and there were several swift moves by werewolves to steady their glasses of whisky before she crashed it on the table again.

“She's always been a disgrace,” said Baron Douglas MacAllister. As the youngest baron, with strong reason to resent Markus and Verasa, he was more willing than most to voice his feelings, and not sorry to have an opportunity to criticize Verasa's family.

“My daughter is not a disgrace,” said Verasa quietly. “She's had troubles, but she is not a disgrace. And she is not insane.”

“But she is banished,” said Douglas. “She shouldn't have been visiting a clan member in Scotland.”

“Kalix was with me,” said Dominil. “As a member of the council, I'm entitled to take a werewolf anywhere, even one who's banished. I judged the journey worthwhile.”

“It seems to have gotten Minerva killed,” said Douglas. “She'd never
have come down from her mountaintop if she hadn't had to treat her for laudanum.”

“That's not entirely fair,” said Dominil. “Kalix wasn't the only one needing treatment.”

There was a long silence while the assembled werewolf council digested this.

“What exactly do you mean?” asked the Mistress of the Werewolves eventually.

“I'm also addicted to laudanum. I made the initial approach to Minerva. I asked her if she could help me. Then I asked Kalix if she would like to accompany me. So the responsibility for bringing Minerva from her mountain rests with me.”

In the long, astonished silence that followed, the only sound was the crackling of the great log fire. Everyone stared at Dominil with disbelief.

Markus eventually spoke. “Dominil, you're telling us you're addicted to laudanum? Is this just some way of protecting Kalix?”

“No. I am addicted.”

“But you're not. You can't be.”

“I assure you I have been for some years now. I've controlled it to the extent where I've kept functioning. But I am an addict, and take the substance every day.”

Dominil had not looked forward to confessing her addiction to the council. She was aware of the shock it would cause. The barons looked aghast. The Mistress of the Werewolves, who had the highest regard for Dominil, looked like she'd been struck a blow. Markus's werewolf jaws were parted, as if he wanted to speak but couldn't think of anything to say. As for her father Tupan, he was leaning away from her in his chair, as if trying to distance himself from his own daughter. That Dominil, known as the most intelligent, least passionate and most self-controlled werewolf in the clan, should share a substance addiction with Kalix was unbelievable. Kalix's addiction was shameful enough but had been rationalized by the clan as part of her madness. Dominil had no such excuse.

“So how much laudanum had you taken when you opposed Sarapen's nomination as Thane?” said young Baron Douglas mockingly. The young baron seemed amused.

“There's no need to drag the election up again,” said the Mistress of the Werewolves sharply.

The shock may have lasted longer, and the accusations may have fallen harder on Dominil, had Thrix's temper not been so violent. Thrix was
not about to let the meeting be sidetracked into a discussion of Dominil's problems. She growled, loudly enough to gain everyone's attention.

“Did you also overdose in the morning?”

“No,” said Dominil.

“So you would have arrived on time?”

“Yes.”

“Then your addiction doesn't change anything,” said Thrix. “Right now we're talking about Minerva being murdered.”

Thrix stared at Markus. “I want the clan to declare war on the Avenaris Guild. I want us to find their headquarters and wipe them out. And I want you to ensure that the clan will devote whatever resources are necessary. So let's discuss it.”

CHAPTER 32

After failing to find Kalix in the park, Daniel and Moonglow retreated to the car. Daniel had several deep scratches in his hand.

“It was mad to plunge into those bushes,” he said. “You shouldn't have encouraged me.”

“I didn't encourage you!” protested Moonglow. “You just dived right in!”

Daniel examined his bleeding hand. “I'll probably get some disease. Parks are full of diseases.”

“Stop being such a baby,” said Moonglow. “You won't get a disease. What should we do now?”

Daniel shook his head. He had no idea. They'd rushed out of the house to find Kalix, but having failed to locate her in the park, they weren't sure where else to look.

“She's probably on a rooftop somewhere,” said Daniel. “Looking down malevolently at the world after some werewolf crisis, which she won't want to tell us about anyway. We must be insane, rushing around after her and getting cuts that will almost certainly lead to blood poisoning. Why do we waste so much time and effort on her?”

“Because we love her, of course,” said Moonglow, which took Daniel by surprise. He thought about it for a moment.

“I suppose we do,” he said.

They sat in silence for a few moments. The werewolf crisis had caused them to forget the awkwardness between them, at least for the moment.