The Anxiety of Kalix the Werewolf. Martin Millar

big was it?”

      “Quite big.”

      “I have a very bad feeing about all this,” said Moonglow.

      Daniel sighed. He had a bad feeling about it too. They’d known Kalix long enough to know that she tended to attract trouble.

      “Dominil probably bullied her for no reason then sent her home,” said Moonglow. “Now Kalix is upset. She always takes everything so badly. She might have had a big panic attack in the car and run away; she’s done that before.”

      Daniel followed Moonglow to the door. “You know we have no chance of finding her?”

      “She can’t have gone that far. Kalix won’t run around the streets as a werewolf; she must be hiding somewhere.”

      Daniel remembered a previous occasion when they’d hunted the streets for Kalix. They’d only found her thanks to Malveria’s supernatural powers of perception. Kalix had been very badly injured, and had it not been for the Fire Queen’s exceptional healing powers she would have died. Malveria wasn’t around to help them now.

      “She sometimes hides in the park,” said Moonglow. “She has a favorite clump of bushes. We can start looking there. Wait while I make tea.”

      Daniel looked puzzled. “Do we have time for tea?”

      “It’s not for us, it’s for Kalix. I’ll take it in a flask.”

      “Why?”

      “Kalix likes tea. It’s soothing. I have a feeling we’re going to find her in a very agitated state.”

      Daniel waited in the kitchen as Moonglow boiled the kettle. “I wonder what everyone else is doing tonight?” he mused out loud. “Going to gigs, or clubs, I suppose. Not like us. We get to hunt in dangerous parks for a crazy werewolf. With a flask of tea for protection.”

      Moonglow smiled. It was the first moment of good humor they’d managed between them since the disastrous events at the cinema. By the time she’d made tea and poured it into a thermos flask, Daniel was ready with his coat and shoes on. They trooped downstairs together, groping their way in the darkness.

      “We really should get a light bulb for the hallway sometime,” said Daniel.

      It took only a few minutes to drive to Kennington Park, but as Daniel pulled up at the curb he felt nervous. “I don’t like parks at night. They lock the gates and you’re not meant to be there. What if it’s full of criminals?”

      Moonglow looked at the dark expanse of grass and shrubs and the locked iron gate in front of them. It was quite intimidating. “I brought a torch,” she said.

      “Won’t that just warn the muggers we’re coming?”

      There were a few pedestrians on the pavement opposite, but no one paid them any attention as they scrambled over the fence.

      “Kalix’s favorite bushes are this way,” said Moonglow, leading the way.

      The light from the street didn’t extend very far into the park and they soon found themselves enveloped in gloom, following the narrow beam of Moonglow’s torch. When they reached the bushes, Moonglow shined her torch into them and called out softly. “Kalix?”

      There was no reply.

      Daniel called louder. There was no reply.

      “Well, I’m not standing here calling out for a werewolf all night,” said Daniel. “Let’s get it over with.”

      He plunged into the bushes, struggling toward the center of the large patch of vegetation, which was just as sharp, thorny and uncomfortable as he imagined it would be.

CHAPTER 31

      Thrix had never before found herself unable to brush her hair, but as she sat in front of her dressing table she was overwhelmed by a wave of grief and anger so intense that she flung her brush at her reflection and leaped to her feet, crying out with rage. “I’ll kill them all!”

      The Enchantress slammed two clenched fists on the dresser and then raised her hand to blast it with a spell, just for the satisfaction of destroying something. She halted herself just in time.

      “Breaking things won’t make things better.” She leaned on the dressing table and felt pain and stiffness in her arms. Her muscles ached from climbing the mountain, and each aching muscle was being pulled tighter by stress and anger.

      “They’re all going to die,” she said, though there was no one there to hear her. “Everyone in the Avenaris Guild is going to die.”

      In her werewolf shape, Thrix’s golden hair hung long around her head, shoulder and arms. Normally, she’d brush her coat before making any sort of appearance. Now it was almost time for the council meeting, but she didn’t care that she was unkempt.

      The clan can agree to go to war with the Guild or not, she thought. I don’t care. I’m going to war, on my own if necessary.

      Since arriving at the castle she’d been gripped with bursts of extreme emotion that she was finding difficult to control. One had been so powerful that a little magic had inadvertently leaked from her hand, destroying her bedside chair. The grief was so powerful it felt as if it might overwhelm her and cause her to become irrational. Minerva wouldn’t have approved. The thought of what Minerva might have approved of brought on another wave of rage. Thrix shuddered, clenched her fists to control herself, then hurried from the room. She headed toward the council chamber with the thought that she’d be doing well if she made it through the meeting without screaming at everyone. Not every member of the clan had held Minerva in the same regard as the Enchantress.

      As always, for their nighttime meetings the council chamber was warmed by a great log fire and torches burned on the walls. The room was hung with tapestries and banners in the dark green MacRinnalch tartan. There were pitchers of water on the circular oak table and a large decanter of the clan whisky. Already at the table were Clan Secretary Rainal, Dominil and her father Tupan. They rose as the Thane and the Mistress of the Werewolves entered. The three barons, talking together in a corner, bowed their heads slightly in greeting and waited for them to be seated before taking their own places. Moments later, Kurian and his son Kertal entered the chamber.

      As Rainal was about to start the meeting, Lucia, Verasa’s sister, hurried in, looking apologetic. She took her seat swiftly.

      “I believe that’s everyone,” began the secretary. “Thane Markus, the Mistress of the Werewolves, Baron MacAllister, Baron MacGregor, Baron MacPhee, Thrix MacRinnalch, Lucia MacRinnalch, Tupan MacRinnalch, Dominil MacRinnalch, Kurian MacRinnalch and Kertal MacRinnalch. Council members not present are Marwanis, Butix, Delix, Dulupina, Decembrius and Kalix. Clan statutes allow for a meeting of the Great Council comprising eleven members.”

      “It’s not good though,” said Kurian, a brother of the late Thane who was just starting to turn gray with age. “We never have a full turnout these days.”

      “In my day, it was an honor to be on the council,” said Tupan, who was only a few years younger than his brother Kurian. “No one failed to attend.”

      “Things are rather different these days,” said Verasa. “Not all werewolves live close to the castle.”

      Beside Verasa, her sister Lucia was looking shamefaced. It was a continual embarrassment to her that her son Decembrius didn’t attend meetings. She’d been proud when he’d been elected to the council, but he’d let her down. Thrix clenched her fists under the table. A MacRinnalch as a werewolf, while quite rational, did tend to have a shorter temper than a MacRinnalch as a human. She reached out and poured herself a glass of whisky.

      “Perhaps it’s time we looked at the membership?” said Baron MacPhee. The Baron was a huge werewolf. While loyal to the MacRinnalchs, he was senior enough to make such a suggestion. “Some