The Anxiety of Kalix the Werewolf (37 page)

“Probably,” agreed Thrix. “No one wants their young heiresses being bombed or kidnapped.”

“Indeed. The event takes place in the evening, but is preceded in the late afternoon by a charity fashion show. Various designers show their new clothes, often using the young attendees at the ball as their models. This, I imagine, satisfies various needs: publicity for the designers, and pictures in magazines of rich young people who wouldn't normally get the chance to model. No doubt egos are gratified by it.”

Dominil finished her whisky and turned to Thrix. “If you were one of the designers at the fashion show, you would have license to take several people with you, in the role of assistant, perhaps, and models.”

The Fire Queen leaned far over the table, suddenly enthusiastic. “Yes! I like this idea! Subterfuge at the ball! It is very suitable. I have known many stratagems to be worked on these occasions!”

Thrix shook her head, still not convinced. “Dominil, I don't see this working. Kabachetka's not going to be stupid enough to hand over important information to either me or Malveria. I doubt her secretary will either.”

“It might be difficult for either yourself or the Queen to approach any of them,” conceded Dominil. “But there are a few other people that could attend. Agrivex, for instance.”

The Fire Queen, who was now examining herself in the large mirror, imagining herself in a fabulous ball gown, spying furiously, turned back in alarm. “My idiot niece? The chances of Agrivex successfully performing a spying mission are very slight.”

“She did well for you on the mountain. Agrivex could easily pass as one of Thrix's models. She's certainly skinny and attractive enough.”

“I suppose so,” said Thrix. “Bit short for a model though.”

“The other designers won't be using professional models either,” said Dominil. “So her height wouldn't be a problem. I thought you could also ask Kalix.”

This brought Thrix fully back to life. “Definitely not. Kalix can't model my clothes.”

“Why not?” said Dominil. “She looks the part.”

“She does,” agreed Malveria. “She is waiflike and beautiful. More waiflike and beautiful than models you have used, even when you have specifically called for models who are waiflike and beautiful.”

“Fine,” said Thrix, her voice rising. “My sister is waiflike and beautiful. She's also unstable, a laudanum addict and I detest her. Have you forgotten her part in Minerva's murder?”

“A part which you have overstated,” said Dominil firmly. “Kalix is a MacRinnalch werewolf, and she's as keen as any of us to find the Guild. If she and Vex were to pose as models, they might be able to come up with something.”

Thrix fumed at the prospect of employing her young sister. She raised her eyes toward her cousin. “And what about you, Dominil? I take it you'll be coming along?”

“I thought I could pose as your assistant.”

Thrix narrowed her eyes. “Malveria can pose as my assistant. I'll need more than two models. You can be the third.”

“I'm too old to model,” said Dominil.

“Nonsense,” replied Thrix. “What are you, twenty-seven? Models go on a lot longer these days. You'll be fine. Tall, good bone structure, exotic white hair. You're in.”

Dominil stared at the Enchantress, suspecting that her enthusiasm for including her as a model was mostly in revenge for forcing Kalix on her. After a few moments, she nodded. “Very well, I will model too.”

“At least your ridiculous idea has got my energy levels back up,” muttered Thrix. She snapped her fingers, turning on the coffee maker in the kitchen. “Have you considered how I'm meant to be selected as one of the fashion designers? The ball is only two weeks away; they must all have been chosen by now.”

“I was hoping that you and the Fire Queen could arrange that. Either through your contacts in the fashion world, or by sorcery.”

“I not sure—” began Thrix.

“I'm certain we can arrange it!” said Malveria. The Fire Queen was thrilled of the prospect of espionage at a ball and didn't intend to let anything spoil it.

“What is this ball like, Dominil? Is it large?”

“Very large. They rent out an entire hotel in the Strand, including the ballroom on the ground floor. They also use the gardens at the back, which stretch down to the river and include part of the ancient Prince Henry's Tower.”

“An entire hotel? A ballroom? Gardens and a river? And an ancient tower?” cried Malveria. This is sounding more splendid by the moment. The Fire Queen halted and frowned. “I have spotted a flaw in the plan. Our targets, as you describe them, are the Empress, her secretary, her handmaiden and Distikka. All female. How are we to seduce them? We have no man in our party.”

The Queen spread her arms. “Our seduction is going to falter badly unless Kabachetka happens to bring along some male attendants.”

“There is Adviser Bakmer,” said Dominil. “He might be there. But really, I'd assumed we had more chance of success by theft, bribery or deceit. I wasn't actually counting on seduction.”

The Fire Queen wasn't satisfied. “We cannot ignore seduction. Is there no suitable male we could take? Someone who could perhaps play the part of a model as well?”

Dominil, Thrix and the Fire Queen considered this, as Thrix's recovering powers of sorcery brought three mugs of coffee floating through from the kitchen.

CHAPTER 66

The funeral of the Douglas-MacPhees was well attended, given their poor reputation. In life they'd been unwelcome on Baron MacPhee's estates, but now they had fallen victim to the common enemies of all werewolves, it was time for the clans to show solidarity. Werewolves from the MacRinnalchs, the MacPhees, the MacAllisters and the MacGregors all attended, along with representatives from the lesser clans such as the MacAndrises. Even some MacPhees who'd emigrated in the past sent representatives back to Scotland for the ceremony.

It was an unusually warm day in the Highlands as the Mistress of the Werewolves and the Thane headed toward the funeral at Baron MacPhee's keep, north of Castle MacRinnalch in the Rinnalch Hills. They sat in the back of Verasa's Mercedes, driven by Eskandor, head of the castle guard. Verasa was elegantly attired in black. Her dress, hat and shoes had all been selected for her by Thrix.

“Thrix has excellent taste in ceremonial attire,” said Verasa. “It's such a shame she couldn't make it to the funeral.”

Markus, himself very elegantly attired in his dark suit, didn't reply. His relationship with his sister was better these days, but not to the extent that he'd miss her presence.

“She tells me she's spending all her time looking for the Guild's headquarters,” said Verasa. “Using sorcery, I suppose.”

The Mistress of the Werewolves had never entirely approved of Thrix's use of sorcery. It was not respectable. “Have you been to Baron MacPhee's keep since you became Thane?”

“No,” said Markus. “I'm not much looking forward to it.”

“I'm not surprised, dear, we're going to a funeral. There's not much to look forward to.”

Markus smiled. “You know that's not what I meant. Baron MacPhee never wanted me to be Thane. He was one of Sarapen's strongest supporters.”

“Only because he was such a friend of your father,” said Verasa. “But that's all finished with now. Everyone respects you as head of the clan.”

Markus wasn't so sure. His mother had smoothed out the difficulties that had wracked the clan after the leadership feud. That didn't mean Markus was well liked by everyone. Baron MacPhee had attended council meetings since the feud ended and he'd been generally respectful. But the barons were always respectful. Markus didn't believe they really supported him.

“Wallace MacGregor will be there. That's another werewolf I'm not all that keen to see.”

“Why ever not?” said his mother. “You defeated him, after all.”

There was a note of pride in Verasa's voice. Her son had beaten the huge Wallace MacGregor in single combat, right in front of the castle gates. The whole clan had witnessed it. His triumph had been instrumental in bringing the feud to an end.

“It just seems strange, that's all,” said Markus. “Not so long ago I was fighting Wallace, and now we're going to be standing together listening to a service for three departed werewolves whom no one actually liked.”

“It will be fine,” his mother assured him. They were sitting close to each other in the back of the car. Verasa put her hand on her son's shoulder. “I was very proud of the way you fought,” she said. “The whole clan was.”

Markus was grateful for his mother's words. “If we find the Guild in London—” he began.

“That's quite different,” said Verasa, interrupting him. “You have responsibilities as Thane. It's not your job to travel to England and fight.”

“I think it is.”

“It's not,” said the Mistress of the Werewolves firmly.

In the car behind, Decembrius was being consoled by his mother Lucia.

“Kalix was never a suitable girlfriend, Decembrius. You know she's unstable.”

Decembrius had arrived in Scotland depressed, and the depression hadn't lessened. He was surprised to find himself talking with his mother about relationships, but Decembrius's disappointed love seemed to need an audience. Only the night before he'd been through his whole sorry tale with Beauty and Delicious, yet here he was again, talking about Kalix, this time with his mother.

“She's not unstable,” said Decembrius. “She just has some problems. With anxiety, mainly. And eating. And a bit of self-harming when she gets depressed. And she's quite prone to violence, I suppose.” He sighed. “I suppose you could call her unstable.”

“Don't forget the laudanum,” said Lucia. She had been horrified to learn her son was going out with Kalix and was delighted it was over. They sat in silence as the car drove up the long winding incline that led through the hills. Decembrius stared morosely out of the window. His mother didn't like to see him so unhappy.

“You'll get over her soon enough. Don't you meet a lot of girls in London?”

Decembrius felt embarrassed. “Not really,” he said.

His mother laughed good-naturedly. “Don't lie. I know you've always had plenty of girlfriends. There's nothing wrong with that. You should enjoy yourself. Just meet some nice girls, you'll forget Kalix soon enough.”

Decembrius was surprised that his mother knew he met a lot of girls. He'd thought his life away from the castle was sufficiently private for his habits not to be known. Apparently he was wrong. He was more surprised to learn that his mother didn't object. At least she wasn't nagging him to meet a respectable werewolf girl and settle down, as mothers from the castle were prone to do. While he appreciated his mother's support, it didn't cheer him. He thought of Kalix constantly and was tormented by the thought of her with another boyfriend. Decembrius was quite sure she'd started seeing someone else; whether this was because of his powers of seeing, or just because of his jealous imagination, he couldn't tell.

CHAPTER 67

When Moonglow arrived home to find Kalix, Vex and Daniel all looking pleased with themselves, yet strangely guilty at the same time, her first thought was that they might have raided the household kitty and used the money to buy beer.

“Why is everybody smiling?”

“It's nothing, really,” said Daniel.

“And why are you looking embarrassed?”

“Embarrassed?” said Daniel. “I'm not looking embarrassed. Kalix, am I looking embarrassed?”

“No,” said Kalix. “Neither am I.”

Kalix buried her face in a book that Moonglow was certain she couldn't read. She put her shiny vinyl bag on the table.

“What's going on?” she demanded. “Why is everyone smiling? What have you done?”

“We're all going to a ball!” said Vex, almost exploding with excitement. “Kalix and me are going to be models for Thrix and then we've got to seduce people and find secrets! We're going to be spies!”

Moonglow could make nothing of this. She turned to Kalix. “You're going to model for Thrix?”

Kalix made a face. “I have to. Dominil talked me into it. It's important werewolf stuff.”

“Is it dangerous? Should I worry?”

“I don't think Dominil would have asked Daniel to go if it was dangerous.”

Moonglow froze. “Daniel's going too?”

Daniel nodded and flushed quite a bright shade of red.

“So what about me?” said Moonglow.

There was no reply. Moonglow's flatmates all stared at their shoes. They'd known this was going to be awkward. When Dominil had outlined her plan to them on the phone, Vex was immediately enthusiastic. Kalix had been more reluctant, not wanting anything to do with her sister. On further explanation from Dominil, she'd agreed. She couldn't turn down a request to take action against the Avenaris Guild.