The Anxiety of Kalix the Werewolf (63 page)

CHAPTER 121

“We only get one shot at this,” said Thrix as she prepared the spell. “The Fairy Queen doesn't like giving away magic. It will be a long time before she'll do it again.”

Dominil and Thrix turned into werewolves, which was necessary. The Fairy Queen's sorcery could not be worked by humans. Thrix took the twelve petals from the plastic bag. She took another twelve petals from her handbag, these ones from Colburn Woods. Finally, she took out a small sheet of paper containing a diagram. She began to lay out the flower petals according to the diagram. This proved not to be easy. The tiny petals were hard to manipulate with her werewolf paws. Thrix's hands trembled ever so slightly, and she swore as she dropped a petal in the wrong place. When it happened a second and third time Thrix clenched her fist, and seemed almost on the point of sweeping them all away. Dominil noted once more that it didn't take long for Thrix to become upset these days.

“Let me try,” she said.

“I can manage!”

“You obviously can't.”

“Just back off,” snarled Thrix. “I can do it.”

She picked up another petal and glanced at the diagram. They had to be arranged in an arrow-like shape, pointing to their target. Thrix placed two petals successfully but then her hand trembled again and the next one went astray, fluttering under the bed. Thrix scrambled to retrieve it.

“Did we bring spares?” inquired Dominil.

Thrix emitted a loud throaty growl, and glared at her cousin. Her temper, never far from the surface, began to make the intricate task almost impossible. Dominil felt her own frustration starting to rise. She was quite sure she could have arranged the petals in the required order quite easily. Thrix struggled on.

“Finished. Does that look like the diagram?”

“It's close. Though not quite perfect. I'll move those two into place.”

“Go ahead,” said Thrix, in a bad mood.

Finally, the petals were all in position. They snaked toward the wall in a twisted arrow.

“What's next?” asked Dominil.

“I recite the spell.”

Now that the petals were in position, Thrix managed to calm herself. She knelt on the floor and closed her eyes. Dominil watched silently.

Thrix opened her eyes, then said a few words in the secret language of the fairies of Colburn Woods. Next she said a sentence in Gaelic, and waved her hand over the petals. They wavered, as if blown by a breeze.

“Are there enemies?” asked Thrix in English.

The petals rose from the floor and, as if they were a real arrow, shot toward the wall, hitting it with some force.

“What does that mean?” asked Dominil.

“It means the Avenaris Guild is on the other side of this wall.”

The two werewolves stared intently at the wall, trying to imagine the scene on the other side. What was happening there? Were hunters planning their raids? Practicing with silver bullets?

“You're all going to die,” muttered Thrix, and bared her fangs.

Suddenly, the petals rose from the floor, formed themselves back into an arrow, and flew through the room. They hit the door and fluttered to the ground.

“I wasn't expecting that,” said Thrix, lowering her voice.

“More enemies?” whispered Dominil.

Thrix nodded. They crept toward the door, muscles tensed, ready to
fight. Dominil swept a strand of long white hair from her face and flexed her great werewolf claws. They put their ears to the door and listened with their keen werewolf ears.

“This room will do for a week or so until we find you a more permanent address.”

“A lot of hunters have stayed here when they first arrived in London.”

The voices faded.

“Well, now we know,” whispered Thrix. “The Guild does use this hotel.”

There were more footsteps in the corridor, and more talking, followed by the sounds of room doors opening and closing.

“It sounds like they're putting a lot of hunters in here,” whispered Thrix. “We could kill a lot of them right now.”

“It would ruin our plan. We should wait till things are quiet, and leave discreetly.”

“I suppose so.” Thrix sat on the bed. “Seems comfy,” she said. “Do you think we could get room service?”

“I hardly think that's necessary.”

“We might be here for a while.”

Dominil sat in one of the plush armchairs. They remained there in silence, still alert to danger, wondering if they'd be able to leave the hotel safely and report everything to the clan.

“Are you going to take up that offer of modeling?” asked Thrix.

“That seems like a strange question at this moment. But no, I'm not.”

“Why not? I know that agent, it was a serious offer.”

“One experience of modeling was enough.”

“Didn't you once say you were looking for a career?”

“I am not modeling again. Although it strikes me that Agrivex and Kalix could take up the offer. They'd earn money, and they both have the energy.”

“They're too short,” said Thrix dismissively.

“I understood that a few models of smaller stature have succeeded, due to their exceptional beauty. Both Kalix and Vex might be said to fit that role.”

Thrix didn't want to think about Kalix and she didn't enjoy hearing her described as an exceptional beauty. She dropped the subject, and they sat in silence again. At midnight, having heard no sound outside for some time, Dominil suggested they leave. They picked up the flower petals and slipped quietly out of the room. They encountered no one as they left. The
werewolf cousins made their way quickly up Gloucester Place, turning into the first side street they came to.

“I'll see you in Scotland,” said Thrix.

Dominil nodded, and they went their separate ways.

CHAPTER 122

At 3
AM
Kalix lay on her bed, fully dressed, wide awake and very depressed. She'd cried herself out, eventually. Finally prying herself away from Moonglow's embrace, Kalix had retired, hoping to go to sleep and forget about everything. She felt physically exhausted after sobbing for such a long time. Unfortunately, she couldn't sleep, even with a dose of laudanum.

Stupid werewolf vitality, she thought.

The weight of depression felt like it was crushing her into the mattress. She couldn't believe how badly she'd messed things up.

It's an all-time low. I must have set a new record. Again
.

Her arm felt sore. She'd put a long cut on her bicep with the special sharp blade she kept for that purpose. That usually made her feel better. This time it hadn't.

Kalix sat up.
I wish hunters would attack
.

Kalix wondered again if Dominil had found the Guild. She hoped she had, so that there might be a battle. Kalix again imagined herself charging into a large group of hunters, rending and tearing at them. She sighed. Dominil might not find the Guild.

“And they might not even tell me.” She became angry at the thought, and resolved to call Dominil the next day, to make sure she wasn't left out of their plans.

Kalix felt the moon outside. She changed into her werewolf shape for comfort. Her cupboard was open, and she could see her reflection in the long mirror attached to the back of the door. Kalix stared at herself. A few of Vex's crayons were lying on the floor. Kalix noticed that the brown crayon was the same color as her fur. For want of anything better to do, she picked it up and drew an outline of herself on a blank page at the back of her journal. It was hard to manipulate the crayon in her werewolf paw
so she changed back and forth for a while, becoming human to draw in the details, and changing back to werewolf to make broader strokes. It took her mind off things for a little while.

When she'd finished, she examined her self-portrait.

I'm a hopeless artist, she thought, and ripped the page from her journal, and crumpled it up. She turned to her self-improvement pages.

“Werewolf Improvement Plan—be less violent—be independent—stop taking laudanum—get on better with people—stop being anxious—stop being depressed—stop cutting myself—eat better and don't throw up—improve reading and writing and maths.”

She shook her head.
What was I thinking? I can't do any of that
.

Kalix ripped out the pages and went downstairs to the kitchen. She searched in the drawer and found a box of matches. Then she put the pages in the sink and set fire to them. She lit more matches to burn them quicker. Suddenly, and very unexpectedly, there was a great wailing sound as an alarm went off. The noise made Kalix leap backward in surprise. There was not much room in the kitchen and she banged her head painfully on a cabinet.

There was the sound of doors slamming upstairs.

“What's happening?” cried Daniel, appearing in only a pair of tracksuit bottoms. “What's that noise?”

The shrieking alarm was sounding incessantly. Moonglow ran into the kitchen, clutching a black dressing gown around her.

“Where's the fire? What's happening?” Moonglow looked at the burning papers in the sink. “What are you doing?”

Kalix was very embarrassed. She hung her head. “Sorry,” she mumbled. “I didn't know we had a smoke alarm.”

“Neither did I,” said Daniel. “When did we get a smoke alarm?”

Moonglow climbed on a chair, reaching up to switch the alarm off. “It's always been here,” she said. “I put a battery in last week.”

“Couldn't you have warned us?” said Daniel. “I almost had a heart attack.” He looked at the burning embers. “What were you burning?”

“Nothing.”

Daniel was going to inquire further, but Moonglow nudged him quiet, thinking that it was probably something Kalix didn't want to talk about. The cat arrived, meowing energetically.

“I'm not surprised you're meowing,” said Daniel. “Kalix nearly frightened us to death.”

“It was my self-improvement plan,” said Kalix.

“What?”

“My self-help plan. For making things better. Like in my therapy book.”

“Oh. So you burnt it?”

“It was a stupid plan. Sorry I woke everyone. Goodnight.”

Kalix walked out of the kitchen. The cat hurried after her. Moonglow and Daniel looked at each other.

“That's so sad,” said Moonglow. “I think I'm going to cry.”

“I didn't know Kalix had a self-improvement plan. Did you know?”

“No.”

They peered into the sink.

“I don't believe in self-help,” said Daniel.

“Maybe you should. You're looking a bit flabby.”

“I am not!” Daniel looked down at his naked torso. “Maybe a bit. But I got in shape for modeling.”

Moonglow smiled. “True. And it worked. Lady Gezinka just whisked you off to her room.”

At the mention of Lady Gezinka, Daniel looked keenly at Moonglow, wondering if there was a hint of jealousy there. But Moonglow had turned toward the kitchen cabinet, and he couldn't see her face.

“What do you think Kalix will do next?” said Daniel.

“Be depressed, I suppose. And crazy, going on past experience.”

“Did she really like Manny that much?”

“I don't know. I think she felt happy around him. That would be a change for Kalix.”

“Hey look.” Daniel fished a crumpled piece of paper out of the sink. Though blackened round the edges, it hadn't suffered much in the fire. He smoothed it out. It was Kalix's self-portrait, drawn in brown crayon.

“Kalix did that?” said Moonglow.

They both stared at the paper, quite surprised.

“That's such a good picture,” said Daniel. “It's really like her.”

There was something about Kalix's crayon drawing that had caught her spirit exactly. Though roughly drawn, it showed her in a way both Daniel and Moonglow recognized immediately—troubled and unsure of herself.

“This is a really good drawing,” said Moonglow. “It can't be easy making a werewolf look vulnerable with a brown crayon. I'd no idea Kalix was such a good artist.”

They took their tea into the living room.

“I wish Kalix hadn't burned her self-help plan,” said Moonglow. “It
wasn't such a bad idea.”

“Unlike telling Manny she'd slept with Decembrius. That was a bad idea.”

Moonglow sighed. “Maybe it was. I didn't think it would go so badly. But people should be honest.”

Daniel remained unconvinced. “Some healthy lying never hurt anyone. I wonder what was in her self-improvement plan.”

He looked at the sheet of paper in his hand. “I wish I could draw that well.”