The Anxiety of Kalix the Werewolf (30 page)

“We've got an openly gay gardener at the castle,” said Markus. “Maybe cross-dressing might be the next thing to get past the standards committee of the werewolf clan.”

Beatrice laughed. The werewolves didn't actually have a standards committee, but if they had, Markus wouldn't have made it past them, of that she was quite certain. Two separate girlfriends would have been bad enough, though possibly acceptable, if handled discreetly. Two girlfriends that he saw at the same time wouldn't have been. As for his liking for cross-dressing, the uproar that would cause could hardly be imagined.

“You wouldn't be grinning, that's for sure,” said Beatrice.

Markus acknowledged the truth of that. “But we're far away from the clan now, and the webcam's off, so let's get this dress sorted.”

“I think we should put it to one side for the moment,” said Beatrice.

Markus looked at her in surprise. Since confessing his liking for cross-dressing to Beatrice, she'd proved to be rather fond of the whole thing. He looked toward Heather for support.

“Beatrice is right,” said Heather. “We should get back to work.”

The Thane looked disappointed. “When did you both become so responsible?”

Heather MacAllister picked up her blouse from the floor and put it on. She was a little taller than Beatrice, though in other ways they were similar. Beatrice had lighter hair, but recently Heather had lightened hers, making them both dark blonde. Heather had plucked her eyebrows, making them resemble Beatrice's, which were very finely shaped. They both had brown eyes, as was most common among Scottish werewolves, and both were rather slender, also common.

Beatrice reopened the laptop, carefully pointing it away from anything incriminating while she checked that their webcam connection was indeed off. Satisfied that it was, she opened a folder and started laying out files on the desktop. Markus sighed and joined them at the table.

“I'm not sure we're going to find anything,” he said.

“We might,” said Beatrice. “Anyway, Dominil said it was worth doing.”

For the past week, Markus, Beatrice and Heather had been engaged in collating information about the Avenaris Guild. While the MacRinnalchs had had many encounters with the hunters over the years, no one had thought to classify these encounters in any meaningful sort of way. Dominil had pointed out that it was ridiculous for the clan not to possess some sort of database on their enemies. Markus had taken on responsibility for the task. He recruited Beatrice, who, as an archivist at the castle, was used to recording things. The two of them, with the assistance of Heather, were now engaged on the important though tedious task. Every recorded encounter with the Guild was being classified and filed.

They sat in the front room of the solid Georgian apartment Markus owned on George Street in Edinburgh, making entries in the computer. Beatrice had brought several large boxes from the castle archives, filled with tales of old fights with the hunters, some of them handwritten notes on parchment dating back hundreds of years. There were entries in old diaries, some scraps from newspapers about mysterious fights, faded photographs and a lot of miscellaneous notes, recorded over the years but never organized. For more recent attacks, Markus was contacting those werewolves who'd been involved. It was a large task. Markus was taking it seriously, but would never have put in so many hours had it not been for Heather and Beatrice.

“Who are you going to talk to about the Douglas-MacPhees?” asked Heather.

Markus scowled. Happening so soon after Minerva's death, the murder of the Douglas-MacPhees had come as a serious blow to the clan. Never mind that they were outcasts. They were still werewolves, and they'd been killed in cold blood. It was a clear sign that the Avenaris Guild was again in the ascendency.

“Decembrius found them. And Kalix.”

Heather looked up. “Kalix? Are you talking to her?”

“If I can. Though Kalix doesn't like speaking to me.”

They worked in silence for a few minutes.

“What's she like?” asked Heather.

“Kalix?” Markus wasn't quite sure how to reply. A year or so ago he'd have replied that Kalix was terrible in every way. Since becoming Thane he'd developed a little more sympathy for her.

“When she was a child at the castle she was awful. Insane, violent, angry. I hated her. She used to smash things and get in fights. Not just with other children, with adults too. It didn't bother her that she'd get beaten. She was so crazy that eventually even werewolves who were much bigger and stronger would avoid her, because if they got into a fight, Kalix would never stop. It didn't matter what they did, she'd just keep fighting. They had to knock her out to make her stop. And that was awkward, with her being the Thane's daughter.” Markus shook his head. “Hardly a day passed when there wasn't some Kalix outrage.”

“When did it start?”

“She was always like that,” said Markus. “She was in trouble as soon as she could walk.” He frowned. “Or I think she was. I didn't pay much attention to her when she was an infant. But I remember her well when
she got to about eight or nine. None of the other werewolf kids in the castle would go near her; they were terrified.

“A few years after that, she broke into the Thane's study and emptied the whisky cabinet. Drank everything that was there. Young werewolves are always keen to try the MacRinnalch malt, but she took that to ridiculous levels as well. Once she had to get her stomach pumped when she emptied the medicine cabinet.” Markus shook his head and frowned. “I suppose it wasn't far from that to laudanum. But by then she was so mad I wasn't surprised by anything she did. She actually fought with my father. No other werewolf would have done that. I wouldn't have dared.”

Markus and Kalix's father, the old Thane, had been a famously strong werewolf.

“Did she really kill him?” asked Heather.

“More or less. Fastened her teeth to his throat and flung him downstairs. He lasted a while afterward, but he died of the injuries. He was getting old by then. I suppose that had something to do with it.”

Markus was troubled by the conversation. He wasn't used to talking about Kalix with anyone except his mother. “Maybe it wasn't all her fault. Thrix says girls in the family didn't have a good time when they were young. I don't know if that's true.”

“What does she do in London?” asked Beatrice.

“She lives with some humans. I've met them; they're all right. They look after her.”

Markus abandoned his work and ran a hand through his hair in a pensive gesture.

“This is making me depressed. I don't know what to think about my mad little sister. Perhaps I should have done more for her.”

“You helped her out when she came to Edinburgh,” said Beatrice.

It was true. On her last visit to Scotland, Kalix had found herself in a difficult situation, surrounded by her enemies. Markus had rescued her and managed to smuggle her back to England without the clan becoming aware of her presence.

“She can't even read,” said Markus. “How did that happen? How did we manage to have a little sister who can't even read?”

Heather put a comforting hand on Markus's arm. “I'm sure it's not your fault.”

Markus sighed. He picked up an old diary and looked at it with distaste. “Could we carry on with this later? I'm not much feeling like transcribing entries any more.”

The phone rang. It was Dominil, asking if they had finished the task.

“Finished? Are you joking? Do you know how many encounters there are to track down?”

“Not precisely,” said Dominil. “That's why I asked the clan to make a database.”

Markus rolled his eyes and only just resisted the temptation to tell Dominil that he was Thane and no one could tell him how hard he had to work.

“We're doing the best we can,” he said instead. “We should have most of the old notes transcribed in a day or two. But there are still a lot of werewolves we have to talk to.”

“Try to speed up the process,” said Dominil. “I need some results.”

Dominil rang off. Markus put the phone down.

“She really is the rudest werewolf in the clan,” he muttered.

“Are we taking a break now?” asked Heather.

Markus shook his head. “Not unless we want Dominil on the phone again. We better keep working.”

Markus picked up the diary, meanwhile thinking that he'd expected his visit to Edinburgh, with both of his girlfriends and a new dress, to be much more enjoyable than it was turning out to be.

CHAPTER 55

Daniel surveyed the wreckage of the living room. The couch was destroyed, the carpet was scorched, there were cracks in the ceiling and everything was covered with dust.

“Why did we have to make friends with a Fire Elemental? It's so dangerous. Couldn't Malveria be a water queen instead?”

“Then we'd probably get drowned,” said Moonglow.

“What about Queen of the Wind?”

“I expect a giant hurricane would blow the house away.”

“I never realized the elements were all so annoying.”

There was a banging noise in the kitchen, followed by a yelp. Vex had crash-landed again. They found her clambering out of the sink, rubbing her arm ruefully.

“I bumped my elbow,” she said. “But it's OK, there's a doctor coming.”

There was a gentle flash of light and an elderly Fire Elemental with a dark red beard, dressed in a long dark robe, appeared beside Vex. The small kitchen immediately seemed crowded.

“I bumped my elbow,” said Vex, and held her arm toward the doctor.

The doctor, a tall elemental with dark skin and a very stern expression, ignored the proffered limb.

“Take me to the Queen,” he said.

Moonglow led him through to the living room, where the Fire Queen was lying under Moonglow's blanket. She was breathing steadily but showed no signs of reviving. The palace doctor, who had not spoken a word of greeting to either Daniel or Moonglow, bent over her then turned to the flatmates.

“Leave me while I examine the Queen.”

Moonglow and Daniel trooped upstairs. They didn't much like being ordered out of their own living room by a stranger, but could understand that the examination should be private.

“You also must leave,” the doctor told Vex.

“But I'm the Queen's niece. I brought you here.”

“Leave.”

Vex skipped up the stairs after Daniel and Moonglow. “He'd never have got here without me,” she said. “He hasn't even been to this planet for hundreds of years.”

Moonglow heard the Runaways coming from Kalix's room and knocked on the door to tell her that a doctor had arrived to attend to the Fire Queen.

“What's he like?”

“Tall and intimidating.”

“He wouldn't look at my elbow,” said Vex.

Moonglow rubbed Vex's elbow better and they all sat on Kalix's small bed in her room while the Runaways played on her portable CD player.

“Who is this doctor anyway?” asked Daniel.

“Grand Physician and Master of Herbs Idrigal,” said Vex. “He's the Queen's doctor. He only attends to her. Maybe a few other important people if he's not busy.”

“Is he a good doctor?”

Vex didn't really know. “He's never killed Aunt Malvie, so I suppose he must be all right. But she doesn't get sick very often.”

Downstairs, Doctor Idrigal drew a black leather case from his long red cloak. He took a small pouch from the case and from that withdrew two red petals. He placed them on the Queen's forehead and then waited. The doctor did not look overly concerned at the Queen's condition. After a few moments, each of the red petals caught fire, quite fiercely. The Fire Queen opened her eyes and some flames emerged, mingling with that of the petals. She raised her head.

“What happened?”

“You were rendered unconscious by fire shock,” said the Doctor.