The Curse of the Wolf Girl (69 page)

“You wouldn’t have thought there were enough people to cause that much damage.” Delicious drank from a bottle of beer, part of the small rider provided by the venue for the band. Neither sister could honestly say they regretted that their gig had ended in a riot. “It’s a shame Hamil and Adam got arrested.”

Beauty shrugged. “Dominil will sort it out when she gets back.”

“Where’d she go to anyway?” No one was able to tell them. It was unusual for Dominil to disappear while they were playing.

“It will spare us a lecture anyway.”

Dominil had odd ideas about music. Possibly she wouldn’t agree it was a good thing for the gig to end in a riot.

Pete slipped into the tiny dressing room. He looked pale and shaken.

“Our guitarist,” said Beauty. “The main culprit.”

“Did you consciously decide to play the set list backwards at the wrong speed?”

Pete looked guilty but made an attempt to justify his poor performance. “How was I supposed to play properly when I’d just learned you were werewolves?”

“I suppose it was a shock.”

“No need to throw your guitar at the audience though. That really sparked things off.”

The twins laughed. Events had degenerated so quickly it was hard to apportion blame. At the end of the show, with the fire alarm ringing and people fighting all over the stage, it had taken the arrival of the police to bring an end to the ugly affair. In the process, two of the band had been arrested. The twins hadn’t been. Somehow, when the police arrived, they’d managed to look frail: a pair of skinny girls with bright hair caught up in a brawl started by everyone else.

Pete sat down on a beer crate and took one of the remaining cans of lager. “I’d like to see Dominil as a werewolf again.”

“Ask her when she comes back. She’ll be happy to show you.”

“How come she can change? Don’t werewolves need a full moon?”

“The MacRinnalch werewolves can do it any night. Well, apart from us. We’ve been having a bit of trouble recently.”

“So when do you change?”

“With us, it’s unpredictable.”

“Is it good being a werewolf?”

“It’s great. We wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Do you think Dominil will go out with me now?”

“Definitely,” said Beauty.

“She told us she likes you,” agreed Delicious.

“Hey look, I’ve changed again.” Beauty was pleased. “Do you think it’s because we’re in Scotland? Maybe it encourages it or something.”

“I can do it too,” said Delicious, joining in. “This is loads better. You see, Pete—”

But Pete wasn’t listening. He’d fainted.

“Too much beer, I expect. Pete’s always been a bit of a lightweight.”

“Hey Pete, wake up. If you want to win Dominil over, it’s no good fainting every time someone turns into a werewolf.”

“She’ll be insulted.”

“Of course. No werewolf would like it.”

“But other than that, you’re really in with a good chance.”

The twins weren’t sure whether to wait where they were or go off to look for Dominil. They didn’t really want to risk visiting Andamair House, where there would be a lot of boring werewolves from the Great Council.

“And the opera too. I don’t want to hear any opera.”

“Maybe it’s ended now?”

* * *

The recital had not quite ended, though Felicori was now on his final number. Princess Kabachetka, enjoying the performance, was surprised to find a stranger suddenly appearing next to her. For one thing, she didn’t think the seat next to her had been empty, and for another, she didn’t see the stranger arrive. Apparently she had materialized from nowhere, unseen by anyone.

“Who are you?” she asked.

“Minerva MacRinnalch. I’m displeased. Thanks to you, I’ve had to leave my mountain-top for the first time in twenty years.”

“No, you haven’t,” said the princess. “You left there quite recently to visit the Fairy Queen.”

“True. But I’m still not pleased. You’ve used my sorcery, thereby violating the secrets of the MacRinnalchs.”

“Well, you shouldn’t have left them lying around in the castle library,” said the princess. “A child could have picked that lock.”

“The spells are mine, and I’m taking them back. As of now, they will no longer work for you. And I believe you will fail in your endeavors, Princess Kabachetka.”

Dominil grabbed Kalix’s wrist and hauled her to her feet. “We’re being attacked,” she said. “It’s time to change.”

Kalix sniffed and wiped her nose then sat down again.

Dominil growled angrily and tossed the white hair that hung around her werewolf shoulders. “Do you have to have an emotional crisis right this minute? Full on battle madness would be more appropriate.”

The Douglas-MacPhees came closer, and behind them appeared two more werewolves.

“MacAndrises,” Dominil thought. “Enemies of Kalix, of course.” Dominil swore, which she rarely did.

“I can’t tell you how fed up I am with being pursued by every werewolf and werewolf hunter in the country.” She stepped forward and stood waiting for her opponents, an utterly savage expression on her face.

“Just move out of the way, Dominil,” said Duncan. “We’re not after you.”

“Don’t you ever get tired of chasing Kalix?”

Duncan shrugged. “We get paid for it.”

Tires squealed not far away. A door slammed, and a figure appeared through the fog. It was Decembrius.

“What’s happening?” he asked, moving to Kalix’s side as he spoke. Dominil nodded at him, though something in her expression suggested he’d arrived here rather late. She turned back to Duncan.

“Decembrius and I are both members of the Great Council. I wouldn’t advise you to attack us.”

“Why not?” Marwanis MacRinnalch stepped out of the cloying fog with Morag MacAllister at her side. “I’m on the council too. I’ll tell them it was justified.”

“How would it be justified?”

“Kalix is an outlaw. We’re arresting her.”

“No, you’re not,” said Decembrius.

Duncan Douglas-MacPhee laughed. “Wasn’t one beating enough? Do you want more?”

Dominil and Decembrius were faced with seven werewolves. The odds wouldn’t have been so bad were Kalix to have helped, but that didn’t seem likely. She was still sitting on the ground. The Douglas-MacPhees, the MacAndrises, Marwanis, and Morag spread out, ready to advance.

Another figure suddenly strode out of the fog still blanketing the parking lot. It was Tupan MacRinnalch, Dominil’s father, brother to the late Thane. Tupan was also a member of the Great Council.

Rhona Douglas-MacPhee laughed. “Soon you’ll be able to hold a meeting right here.”

“Did everyone else feel that sickness?” asked Tupan. He looked at the scene before him. “Dominil, what’s going on here?”

“These werewolves want to arrest Kalix.”

“And?”

“I’m not inclined to let her be arrested.”

Tupan frowned deeply. He was quite a tall werewolf, older than the others, but still lean and strong. “She should be arrested.”

Dominil didn’t reply to her father, nor did she move away from Kalix.

“There are eight of us and two of you,” said Marwanis. “Three if you count that piece of dirt sniveling at your feet. Clan law is on our side, and so are the numbers.”

“I don’t like to hear you calling Kalix a piece of dirt,” said Decembrius, raising his voice.

“I’d say it was appropriate. Now are you going to hand her over or do we have to take her?” Marwanis stepped forward and growled, and her growling made the other werewolves agitated. They moved to follow her.

“Stop it. There isn’t going to be any fighting.”

It was Markus with a little blood on his forehead and two werewolves behind him, Heather and Beatrice. Markus however, remained human, looking furious. “How dare you cause trouble here! How dare you even turn werewolf. There’s a hall full of humans right next door, listening to the opera. What do you think it would do to the clan if you were discovered?”

“We were after Kalix,” growled Duncan.

“Leave her alone,” said Markus.

“Why would we do that?”

“Because I’m telling you to, and I’m the Thane.”

“We’re not that impressed with you as Thane.”

“Are you not? I’m not impressed with you as werewolves. Now leave. Kalix is my responsibility.”

The two MacAndrises, not so uncaring of clan etiquette, took a few steps backwards, but the Douglas-MacPhees were slow to retreat.

Marwanis refused to back down at all. “Kalix has to be arrested. She attacked the old Thane. And she killed Sarapen.”

“Killing Sarapen wasn’t a crime,” said Dominil. Marwanis looked at her with almost as much loathing as she directed at Kalix.

The sounds of Felicori’s encore drifted over from the hall, followed by tumultuous applause.

“Everyone change back,” commanded Markus. “People will be in this parking lot soon. You MacAndrises—there are hunters’ bodies strewn around the grounds. Pick them up and get rid of them. Everyone else, start acting human and get back into the house and look like you’re supporting the event. Apart from you, Duncan, Rhona, and William. You’re not welcome here. Leave the grounds.”

The Douglas-MacPhees remained as werewolves and looked towards Marwanis.

“I’m not letting Kalix walk out of here,” Marwanis stated.

“She’s in my custody now,” said Markus. “I’m the Thane.”

“Then why don’t we take her before the Great Council. Most of them are inside.”

“I’ll do what’s necessary.”

“You’re going to let her go!” yelled Marwanis, enraged.

“I’m going to confer with the Mistress of the Werewolves.”

Marwanis spat on the ground. “You and your mother.” She directed a look of loathing at Kalix then marched off, disappearing instantly into the fog.

“Kalix and Dominil,” said Markus. “We’re going to see the Mistress of the Werewolves.”

This is insulting,” raged the Fire Queen, halfway between dimensions. “Other Elementals are free to come and go, yet I am trapped here. Someone will pay.”

The enchantress had added her power to Malveria’s, and together they chipped away at the spell that prevented Malveria from returning home. Both knew there was little chance of arriving in time. The combined forces of Distikka and Commander Agripath must surely have swept the Fire Queen’s guard away by now, even with Vex channeling the power of the volcano.

“She might turn out to have a talent for it,” muttered Thrix.

“She probably just fell in.”

The pair intensified their efforts as the mist that hid Malveria’s realm began to dissipate. “We’re almost there, Enchantress. Once the pathway opens, I won’t have time to thank you or bid farewell, so I do so now.”

“What?”

“For all your assistance and the beautiful clothes. I am deeply grateful.”

“That’s good to know,” said Thrix. “But we’re not saying goodbye just yet. I’m coming with you.”

“You are unused to fighting in my realm and will die quickly on the volcano.”

“We’ll see about that.”

Malveria paused, though she had no time to spare. “Really, Thrix, you should go home.”

“What for? To look at my dead boyfriend?” Thrix gritted her teeth and fired another bolt of energy at the gray mass ahead of them. It split apart, and an orange light shone through.

“We are here,” said the queen. “Prepare for battle.”

Malveria and Thrix materialized on the higher slopes of the Great Volcano just in time to see Vex’s foot blown off. She tumbled to the ground, blood and fire leaking from her body. The young Fire Elemental had performed quite heroically, sending the power of the volcano to First Minister Xakthan and his supporters, but she’d finally been overwhelmed by strength of the opposition. Huge bolts of fire fell all around, turning the sky red as Distikka advanced up the mountain.

Malveria took it all calmly. “How many of my guard remain, First Minister?”

“Around thirty, Your Highness.”

“And Distikka?”

“An army of several thousand. They control two-thirds of the volcano.”

“How did Agrivex manage?”

“Very well, and bravely. She saved the day. Till now.”

Malveria turned to her friend. “Enchantress, could you stabilize Agrivex’s body? I have no time to heal her now, but we’ll see what I can do when this affair is over.”

Thrix, who’d already slipped off her high heels, nodded and rushed to try to prevent more blood and fire from leaking out of the now-unconscious Vex. There wasn’t much left of her foot, but what there was, the enchantress gathered up and placed beside her.

A huge explosion rocked the ground, sending burning shrapnel over their heads as Commander Agripath’s advance guard sent a great arc of fire towards the queen.

“DeMortalis?” asked Malveria. “I did not expect to see you here.”

The duke’s handsome face was scarred from the battle, and his elegant clothes were ragged and charred. “It seemed like a good day for a fight,” he replied, “though I did have an appointment with my tailor that I’ve regrettably had to miss.”

Malveria smiled. She took a step forward to address the Fire Elementals who remained at her side. All around were the bodies of fallen comrades. “Gentlemen.” She raised her voice over the sound of the thunderous fire. “We are fortunate. It is rare that the opportunity presents itself to perform great deeds of valor that will be talked about in ages to come. We will advance, dispatch the enemy, and return in triumph to let the bards sing songs about us. If any of you would rather not participate in this glorious victory, please feel free to withdraw.”

No one withdrew. Malveria stretched out her hand, and a sword belonging to one of her dead guards sprang from the ground into her grasp. As she took hold of it, a great tongue of fire rolled out along the blade. Her eyes blazed, and her long dark hair turned red with flames. “First Minister, is that a dragon?”

“I’m afraid so. Commander Agripath’s family trait has awakened, and he has made the transformation.”

“Indeed. It is some time since I fought a dragon. Well, First Minister, as there seems no opportunity for a tactical approach, I suggest we simply charge the enemy. Let us see if Malveria, Xakthan, and thirty warriors are a match for Distikka, the dragon Agripath, and his regiment.”