The Anxiety of Kalix the Werewolf. Martin Millar

it might have happened.”

      “He was mainly an abstract expressionist. No naked models. Well, not me anyway.”

      The Fire Queen was disappointed. “Surely any artist with spirit would have attempted to scandalously paint you naked? One hardly sees the point otherwise.”

      “It didn’t take any naked pictures to cause a scandal. I turned up unexpectedly at one of his exhibitions. Unfortunately, his wife did too.”

      “His wife? Did you know he was married?”

      Thrix looked uncomfortable. “I pretended to everyone afterward that I didn’t. But I did know really. I was only a teenager. I sort of thought it was all right, with him being an artist. I persuaded myself that him having a young lover was probably just normal artistic behavior.” Thrix shuddered. “Apparently it wasn’t. Mind you, I don’t think that his wife traveling all the way from Edinburgh to the castle just to shout abuse at me was normal behavior either.”

      Thrix found that she’d finished her wine rather quickly, and refilled both of their glasses.

      “It was a huge scandal. There were even suggestions of removing me from the Great Council, though Mother wouldn’t hear of that.” Thrix shook her head. “That was another early romantic trauma. But I was naive. Growing up in Castle MacRinnalch was fine for learning about being a werewolf but it didn’t really prepare you for life outside.”

      Thrix looked thoughtful. “It was one reason I left to join Minerva on her mountaintop, to get away from the gossip. Minerva didn’t care one way or the other about affairs or scandals. I appreciated that.”

CHAPTER 12

      Empress Kabachetka walked delicately over the bridge of blue crystal that spanned one of the great lava-filled gorges beside her palace. Adviser Distikka accompanied her.

      “Should I send Sarapen to the Western Desert?”

      “You asked me that already,” said Distikka.

      “So?” said Empress Kabachetka. “There is no rule that says an Empress cannot ask an adviser for an opinion more than once.”

      “Unfortunately for me.”

      The Empress laughed. “Distikka, you are amusing. Once your insolence would have upset me. Not any more. Have you noticed how I have rapidly matured since becoming Empress?”

      Distikka declined to reply. The Empress checked her lips in a small mirror she carried in her handbag. The bag, a recent acquisition from Paris, had been sorcerously treated by the Empress to enable it to withstand the fiery temperatures of her realm.

      “This lip coloring is not entirely satisfactory. Should I let Sarapen go and fight in the desert?”

      “What you’re really asking me,” replied Distikka, “is do I know any way of making Sarapen fall in love with you?”

      “That is not what I’m asking at all!” declared the Empress. She frowned and glanced in the mirror again. “But if I was asking you that, what would you reply?”

      “I’d say that I have little insight into affairs of the heart,” said Distikka. “Never having participated in them myself.”

      The Empress was dissatisfied. “You must have some experience, Distikka. Did you not seduce General Agrippa, and cause him to rebel against Queen Malveria?”

      “I suppose I did. But the General was so blinded by ambition it wasn’t hard to make him rebel. I don’t think I really made him fall love with me.”

      “Fortunately for the General,” said Kabachetka, “as you abandoned him at the scene of the crime, so to speak, leaving him to have his head chopped off by Queen Malveria. Which was the correct course of action by you, in the circumstances. But why will Sarapen not fall in love with me?”

      Distikka looked blank.

      “Stop looking blank,” demanded Empress Kabachetka. “I don’t like it. You must have some insights. Consider the facts. All independent witnesses agree that I am a remarkable beauty. My blonde hair alone is the wonder of the nation. I am also an empress. That has to count for something. Furthermore, I saved his life. One would think that was enough.”

      Distikka smiled, which she rarely did. “Presumably love does not run along logical lines, Empress. Which you already know. I really am at a loss what to suggest. Perhaps Sarapen, if facing hardship in the desert, might decide you were a better option?”

      The Empress frowned, not liking to hear herself described as merely a better option.

      “I will muse on it longer. But I’m not satisfied with your advice, Distikka. And on the subject of your unsatisfactory advice, nothing seems to be happening concerning werewolves.”

      “The Avenaris Guild is growing stronger. They have more money and more power.”

      “That is no use if they never encounter any werewolves. Are Thrix MacRinnalch and her annoying sister Kalix never to be punished?” The Empress’s temper flared. “I had a hunter from the Guild on the very point of killing the Enchantress when Kalix intervened! And Kalix is still unpunished for attempting to murder Sarapen! And the Enchantress is still providing fashionable garments for Malveria! It is all most frustrating, Distikka. Something must be done.”

      They paused to admire a huge spout of flame that shot up from the gorge below.

      “Something is being done,” replied Distikka calmly. “Soon we won’t have to worry about the werewolves avoiding the Avenaris Guild. They’ll be rushing to confront them. And then they’ll be killed.”

      “I hope so,” said the Empress. “Your plan is no doubt very complicated and I’m suspicious of complicated plans. I will let it proceed and see what happens. But if we meet with another failure, I may forget my newfound maturity and introduce you to some of my own assassins.”

CHAPTER 13

      Although there were only eight people in Daniel’s and Moonglow’s flat, the small apartment had never been so noisy. Beauty and Delicious turned up the music, shouted over it to make themselves heard, and then turned it up again. Vex screamed at the top of her voice and danced in the middle of the floor.

      Decembrius hadn’t come with them to the cinema, but he’d arrived at the party. He was now talking to Kalix, or rather listening, as she enthusiastically talked about the film. Kalix had enjoyed the Runaways film and described all her favorite parts to Decembrius. They sat close to each other on the floor, leaning against the wall, drinking beer and looking, for once, like a couple who were comfortable in each other’s company. Moonglow observed them with interest. She thought it would be nice if Kalix and Decembrius managed to establish some sort of stable relationship. Decembrius wasn’t such a bad werewolf, once you got past his slight arrogance. Moonglow suspected that Decembrius put this on to cover a degree of natural shyness. When he forgot about being arrogant he was much more agreeable.

      Dominil sat quietly in a corner. She seemed thoughtful and had hardly spoken since they’d left the cinema.

      “My cup is empty!” yelled Vex, and hurried to the kitchen. There she found Daniel, who was drinking from a bottle of lager while putting another in his jacket pocket.

      “Daniel! Wasn’t that a good film?”

      Daniel grunted.

      “And isn’t this a good party?”

      Daniel grunted again.

      “Why are you putting beer in your pockets?”

      “So I can drink on my own in my room.”

      Vex looked puzzled. “You’ve looked awfully gloomy since the film ended. Almost like there’s something wrong. What’s the