The Anxiety of Kalix the Werewolf (52 page)

“The Empress is helping the Avenaris Guild?” Sarapen looked furious. “I didn't know that.”

“Don't tell her you know. I don't want her learning anything of our plans. It would be more useful if you could find some information. This portal was left here for her handmaiden Alchet. Alchet must be somewhere close to you, and it's possible she may have knowledge of the Guild's location.”

“How long do you have?” asked Sarapen.

“I might be discovered at any moment.”

“I'll be as quick as I can.” Sarapen disappeared from view, leaving Dominil thoughtful, though still apparently impassive.

CHAPTER 100

Mr. Eggers was comfortably married. He didn't have any notions of embarking on a romance with the blonde-haired woman he helped into the gardens, but he did feel a strong desire to assist her. He'd been completely taken in by a subtle spell of attraction and Thrix's acting abilities.

“Here we are,” he said as they emerged from the hotel. He eyed the river in the background uneasily, remembering the woman's talk of suicide.

“Thank you,” said Thrix. “I'm sorry I've been such a bother. Could you help me over to that bench beside the bushes? It's so embarrassing to be crying like this in front of all these people.”

The gardens were now busy. Groups of friends emerged from the hotel, talking and laughing, a few of them quite raucously. Here and there people lit up cigarettes in the open air. Mr. Eggers led Thrix over to a vacant bench at the side of the grounds, well away from the crowds. She sat down.

“Thank you,” she said. “You've been so helpful.”

“It's nothing,” said Mr. Eggers. “Are you feeling better? You're not still thinking of doing away with yourself are you?”

Thrix managed a small smile. “No. I'm sorry I said that. It was silly to get in such a state.”

She dabbed her eyes with a lace handkerchief. Mr. Eggers was pleased to have helped a woman in distress, but he had his own business to attend to. He hovered awkwardly, unsure of what to say.

“I should . . .”

“Of course,” said Thrix. “You have to get back inside. I'm so sorry to have dragged you away.”

Thrix glanced around to check that they were unobserved. Then she rose, as if to bid Mr. Eggers farewell. Instead her hand shot out, fastening on to his collar. With strength that Mr. Eggers could not have predicted, she threw him into the bushes. Thrix leaped after him, and by the time she landed she'd changed into her werewolf form. She placed her golden paw
on Mr. Eggers's throat and dragged him upright.

Mr. Egger's eyes widened in fear. “You're—”

“A werewolf. And you killed Minerva MacRinnalch.”

Thrix slashed with the back of her hand. Her vicious claws tore the man's throat. Blood spurted from his neck and he fell down dead without a sound. Thrix was pleased, but not quite satisfied. She hauled his body upright, and then slashed again, almost decapitating the corpse. She let it drop to the ground. Thrix smiled, displaying her werewolf fangs.

“You're the first,” she said.

Thrix looked through the bushes, toward the river. She imagined a target, floating in the air, just above the water. She looked down at Mr. Eggers's body, then spoke a few words. The body disappeared, reappearing over the river in the place Thrix had imagined her target. She released it over the water, and it sank from view.

Thrix changed back to human and emerged from the bushes with a smile on her face. A group of men, smoking cigarettes, looked at her admiringly as she walked past. She strode toward the river, halting as she sensed Decembrius, still in the shadows.

“It's a beautiful evening,” said Thrix.

“Is it?”

“Yes. I just killed a hunter.” Thrix laughed, rather unsettlingly. “I'm enjoying the ball much more than I expected.”

“I'd wipe the blood off your hand if I were you,” said Decembrius.

“I like it.”

“Maybe. But if Daniel and Moonglow like playing at being spies, they won't like you killing people.”

Thrix shrugged. “I suppose not. But it was their choice to get involved with werewolves.”

“Who was the hunter?”

“Mr. Eggers. Senior member of the Guild.”

“What did you learn from him?” asked Decembrius.

“Learn?”

“You're supposed to be spying, aren't you? What did you learn before you killed him?”

“He wouldn't say anything,” said Thrix, sharply.

“Did he have any documents on him?”

“I don't think so.”

Decembrius raised his eyebrows. “It sounds like you were in such a hurry to kill him you forgot to do anything else.”

“I did the most important thing,” said Thrix. She laughed.

“Why are you laughing?”

“Because I just killed a hunter. That always puts me in a good mood. Don't you feel the same?”

“Not really.”

“Well, if you're looking for a miserable werewolf, my little sister is inside. Except you seem to have missed your chance with her.”

“You're becoming less likeable all the time,” said Decembrius.

“Gawain and Decembrius. Two stupid werewolves who thought they loved Kalix. And look what happened to Gawain. You should be pleased she ditched you while you were still alive.”

Decembrius scowled. “Maybe you should just mind your own business.”

“Kalix always becomes my business. And always in some bad way. Keep a good look out for hunters, there are probably more on the way.”

Thrix departed. Decembrius slunk back into the bushes, retaking his werewolf form and climbing his lookout tree.

I'll keep a good lookout for you as well, Thrix MacRinnalch, he thought. As you seem to be getting less sane every day.

Thrix was still smiling as she made her way through the west reception room. She had barely advanced into the ballroom when she was accosted by the Fire Queen.

“Dearest friend, conceal your aura,” said Malveria urgently.

“Pardon?”

“Your aura. It is most obvious to me that you have recently killed someone. It will be obvious to the Empress too.”

“Right. I forgot.” Thrix muttered a few words to herself, part of the process of concealing her aura.

“I presume it was a hunter, and not just a waiter who insulted you?”

“Malveria, my temper isn't that bad.”

“It has been very bad recently.”

“Well, I haven't been killing waiters. A senior member of the Avenaris Guild arrived to talk to Distikka. I disposed of him. Are you looking disapproving?”

“Not exactly. But I do not like to see you so savage on this occasion, which is full of glamour and excitement. Do not forget, your clothes were a great success. The editor of
Vogue
herself would tell you so were you to
approach her, thanks to the excellent boost I've already given you. Mr. Dewar also liked them, though at this moment he has been cornered by the detestable Kabachetka. I am about to rescue him. Observe, Enchantress, as I lay waste to my rival's foolish hopes.”

The Fire Queen quickly checked her appearance in a mirror. She adjusted the strap of her ball gown a fraction. “I thought it may be a risk, exposing so much of the regal shoulders. And indeed, several men have been overwhelmed and flung themselves at me, only to be disappointed. But it was worthwhile. There is seduction to be done, and all advantages must be brought into play.”

CHAPTER 101

Kalix desperately hoped that no one appeared while she was on guard outside the Empress's hotel room.

What if Kabachetka or Distikka show up? she thought. How would I stop them going inside?

She could hardly change into a werewolf and fight them off. Guests could still be seen entering and leaving their rooms, and there were security cameras mounted discreetly on the walls.

Maybe I could fight them off without turning into a werewolf? But that's not going to look good anyway, struggling with the Empress in the middle of the corridor. I'm sure Dominil expects me to do something more clever. With my initiative
.

Kalix was very worried about her initiative.
I'm going to mess everything up. I can feel it happening
.

Kalix was feeling very negative. She wished she had her journal with her so she could give herself bad marks in her self-improvement program.

I've failed in every category. I'm the worst self-improver ever. And now I don't have any initiative either
.

Initiative hadn't been on Kalix's list of self-improvements, but she realized now that it should have been.
I'll have to add it so I can give myself bad marks
.

Kalix's gloomy introspection was interrupted by the electronic beep announcing the arrival of the lift. She looked on anxiously as the doors opened. There, about to step out into the corridor, was Distikka.

I can't let Distikka find Dominil in the Empress's room
.

Kalix frantically searched for inspiration. None came. She could not think of any clever way of delaying Distikka. Cursing her lack of initiative, Kalix flung herself at the elemental. She tackled her round the waist and they both flew into the lift. Kalix pinned her to the floor. The doors closed, and the lift moved.

“What is this?” demanded Distikka. She was very strong, and Kalix struggled to keep her down. “Is this some ridiculous plot to keep me from our suites?”

“No,” said Kalix.

“Are you planning on lying on top of me as we ascend from floor to floor?”

“Maybe.”

“Other people will enter the lift.”

Kalix frowned. She supposed they would. That was going to look strange. She released Distikka. Distikka leaped to her feet and looked furiously at the young werewolf.

“What's this about?”

“Nothing,” muttered Kalix.

“Nothing? I wouldn't say it was nothing. I'd say you were violently trying to keep me from entering my room.”

“No, I wasn't.”

“Well, what were you trying to do?”

“Nothing,” said Kalix. “I just slipped.”

The lift halted at another floor. There was no one there. The doors closed and they carried on.

“I suppose Dominil put you up to this?” demanded Distikka.

“No.”

“I can read your aura, you know.”

“No, you can't,” said Kalix.

“It's no use simply saying no to everything,” said Distikka. “I can plainly tell that Dominil asked you to stand guard. No doubt as part of some plan.”

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

If Kalix lacked initiative, she did have a lot of experience in denying things, a talent she'd learned as a child at Castle MacRinnalch. As a very young werewolf, Kalix had flatly denied raiding both her father's whisky cabinet and her mother's medicine chest, though the evidence against her had been overwhelming. Even on the notorious occasion when she'd been rushed to hospital to have her stomach pumped, Kalix had never fully
admitted she'd been guilty of anything.

The lift reached the top floor. A couple in evening dress entered. The lift began to descend.

“You can't keep me out of my room forever,” whispered Distikka.

“I don't know what you're talking about,” said Kalix, and attempted to look innocent. The lift halted at the next floor. The couple got out, leaving Distikka and Kalix alone.

Distikka studied Kalix for a few seconds. “The Empress greatly dislikes werewolves,” she said. “You'll regret it if she catches you breaking into her suite.”

“The Empress isn't here,” said Kalix, just to keep Distikka talking.

“I can fetch her easily enough,” replied Distikka. With that, she disappeared.

Kalix was alarmed. “I forgot elementals could do that.” She began frantically pushing the buttons in the lift. “I have to warn Dominil before Kabachetka gets there.”

Dominil still stood impassively in front of the portal of light. Sarapen had been gone for some minutes. She knew she was risking death by remaining there. She would have given herself a fair chance in a fight with any of the Empress's servants, but if the Empress herself returned, she would probably kill her. The ruling monarch of a Fire Elemental nation could call upon vast amounts of power, enough to burn Dominil to a cinder.

Dominil glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece. It was an original Edwardian piece, in keeping with the rest of the decor. She felt a vague sense of approval at the consistency of the furnishings. Nothing was out of place. Only a few minutes had passed since Sarapen departed. It felt like much longer.

Dominil's skin prickled. She had none of the powers of future-seeing claimed by certain werewolves, but she had a strong feeling that the Empress was on her way. She resisted the urge to look at the window again, and stood quite still, waiting for Sarapen to reappear.