Read The Anxiety of Kalix the Werewolf Online
Authors: Martin Millar
“I hate this,” said Kalix, studying her outfit with loathing.
“You hate everything,” said Thrix. “Just shut up and wear it. Did you consider washing your hair any time this week?”
“I like it messy,” muttered Kalix.
“Can I put some Hello Kitty badges on this vest?” said Vex.
“If you do I'll kill you,” said Thrix
“And I will assist her,” said the Fire Queen. “Thrix's beautiful clothes are not to be spoiled with foolish badges.”
Vex didn't really mind. To her surprise, Thrix had dressed her for the show in an outfit she liked. She wore a red tank top under a sleeveless, brightly colored, tie-dyed crochet vest, and tiny black shorts. She had a wide, red plastic belt, and black clumpy ankle boots with tartan side panels. It was bright and colorful, it showed off her slender legs, and Vex was pleased with the effect.
“Do I get to keep the clothes afterward?”
“No,” said Thrix.
“When do I get them then?”
“You don't get them.”
“Oh. So can I keep them?”
“I just said you can't,” said Thrix.
“OK.”
Vex looked at her colorful reflection again. “This is such a great outfit. Can I keep it?”
“Stop tormenting Thrix, miserable niece,” said the Fire Queen. She was attending the ball in the guise of Thrix's assistant, though she had shown little inclination to actually assist. Malveria had secured an extremely satisfactory outfit from the Enchantress, and was content to wear it, which, she reasoned, was assistance enough, given how fabulous she looked.
“I can't wait to model!” said Vex. She rushed over the room and
hugged Thrix, taking her completely by surprise. “I love my clothes!” she cried. “Thank you.”
Thrix was taken aback. She wasn't used to models being so expressive, or grateful. “Uh . . . all right.” The Enchantress waited for the embrace to end but Vex clung on tenaciously. “I'm glad you like the clothes. You can let go now.”
“I love my outfit,” said Vex, and maintained the hug.
Thrix looked perplexed. There seemed no obvious way to release herself. She looked toward Malveria. “Could you remove your niece?”
Malveria shrugged, rather mischievously. “Should one discourage a display of sincere gratitude?”
Everyone else seemed amused. Thrix felt very uncomfortable. She was used to a great deal of perfunctory embracing and kissing of cheeks at fashion events, but as a werewolf who grew up at Castle MacRinnalch, hugging did not come naturally. It had never been done in her family. Thrix suddenly became alarmed by the forced intimacy.
“If you let go you can keep the clothes.”
“Really?” cried Vex.
“I mean let go right now.”
Agrivex whooped with joy and leaped away from Thrix.
“Really, Enchantress,” said the Fire Queen, “I did not expect you to give up so easily.”
“She caught me on my weak point.”
The Fire Queen smiled. “I have noticed that the MacRinnalchs are not great huggers.” She turned to her niece. “Agrivex, control your violent emotions before you break something. Kalix and Dominil, you are both looking very fine.”
Kalix was slouched on a chair, looking bored. Her outfit was almost identical to Vex's but was completely without color. Her tank top, vest, tiny shorts, wide plastic belt and clumpy ankle boots were all either black or dark gray. The contrast between the colorful Vex and the monochrome Kalix was startling, as Thrix had intended. Vex's dark skin was surrounded by the brightest hues, and Kalix's very pale frame was sheathed in darkness.
Though Kalix had informed Thrix that she loathed the clothes, really she didn't hate them quite as much as she'd expected. At least they weren't bright. But she didn't like displaying her legs or her arms. There were various scars on view, and she was sensitive about them.
Knowing that Dominil would refuse to appear in public dressed as a messy urchin, Thrix had taken the opportunity to show her expertise
in evening gowns. Dominil was dressed in a dark-blue, full-length dress, which contrasted quite startlingly with her long white hair. She wore pearls at her neck and stood very tall in her matching high heels.
“Dominil, you look most splendid,” enthused Malveria. “I have met real ice queens who looked less like ice queens than you.”
Thrix thought to herself that if it turned out that any seducing did need to be done, Dominil might be the one to do it. She doubted that many people could withstand her beauty, provided they weren't too intimidated to talk to her.
“For someone not used to high heels, you seem to have mastered them easily,” said the Fire Queen.
“I practiced.”
“Of course you did,” muttered the Queen a little testily.
Daniel, looking slightly lost, wandered into the middle of the room. He studied his reflection in the mirror. “Do I look all right?”
Thrix didn't normally design clothes for men. That didn't mean she wasn't aware of current and upcoming trends. Perhaps fortunately for Daniel, who had feared being dressed in anything too outlandish, she had dressed him in a sober, stylishly cut gray suit and, unusually, a gray shirt, a garment that was just about to come into fashion. The only flash of color came from a dark-blue tie, which Daniel thought was acceptable.
“You look nice,” said Kalix.
“Is it suitable for seducing duchesses?” Daniel looked troubled. “âDuchess' sounds quite old. Do you get young duchesses?”
“It depends on whether the old duchess fell into the volcano or just burned up naturally,” said Vex.
“Agrivex,” said Malveria. “Try not to talk to anyone at the ball.”
Dominil raised her voice to address them all. “I doubt there will be any need to seduce duchesses. We're more likely to find ourselves trying to steal a wallet, or look at an address book.”
“But we might have to seduce people!” cried Vex. “You never know!”
“I admit it's possible,” said Dominil.
“I'm not going to be doing any seducing,” said Thrix.
“But surely it is a thrilling prospect?” said the Fire Queen. “To outwit the enemy by luring them with sex?”
“I really don't think I'll be doing that, Malveria.”
The Fire Queen looked disappointed. “Really, Enchantress, what possible objection could you have? And remember, you have access to the most potent means of increasing passion.”
“You mean a love spell?”
“No, I mean alcohol.”
“Returning to the subject,” said Dominil coldly. “We won't know till we get there who we'll be targeting. I'll try to assess the situation during the fashion show and then give you your assignments.”
Dominil seemed to have assumed command of the operation. Thrix might have objected, but knew she'd be too busy to give much thought to anything other than her fashion show. It might be only a minor event, but Thrix was always serious when it came to showing her clothes.
“Queen Malveria,” continued Dominil, “the Empress Kabachetka does not know we're attending. I imagine she will be shocked.”
“I hope she is,” said the Fire Queen.
“It occurs to me that there may be some sort of confrontation.”
The Fire Queen's eyes lit up. “I hope so. I will put her in her place very swiftly, I assure you.”
“I'd rather you didn't,” said Dominil. “It won't help. It will put her on guard. It will be better if we can all remain calm.”
The Fire Queen pouted. “You may be right, Dominil. I will try to avoid an immediate confrontation. But I was looking forward to abusing the Empress.”
“Is everyone ready?” asked Dominil. “Then we should go.”
The Empress and her entourage materialized smoothly in the hotel. Kabachetka, Distikka, Adviser Bakmer, Secretary Gezinka and Handmaiden Alchet appeared one after the other, completing the journey from the realm of the Hainusta. The Empress wrinkled her nose.
“This is their best suite? It is hardly satisfactory. Bakmer, complain to the manger.”
Adviser Bakmer appeared not to understand. “The manager?”
“Yes, the manager,” snapped the Empress. “Please do not be tiring, Bakmer. I know you have never been in this realm before, but if you go around wondering what everything is, it will be very tedious.”
The Empress turned to her handmaiden. “Alchet, stop whimpering.”
“I don't like it here,” said the unfortunate Alchet. She hated when the
Empress brought her to Earth, and spent the whole time terrified in case she got wet.
“Must you always be like this?”
“I'm scared of the rain.”
“There is no rain in a hotel. Pull yourself together. I will need you to travel back and forth from the palace to bring me clothes and other items as necessary.”
The young handmaiden looked miserable. “I might get lost on the way.”
“Alchet, it is a curse that you have such a great talent for dressing me. Were it not so, I swear I would have replaced you long ago. Forget your foolish fears of being rained on or getting lost. Observe.”
The Empress took a jewel from her handbag and laid it on a dressing table. She touched the jewel and a large oval portal of light opened up in the room.
“You see? I have brought this jewel to make a passage. Using it, you may travel from here to the palace without fear of losing your way.”
The Empress surveyed her companions. “This is a great day for me and I do not want it spoiled. Bakmer, have you complained to the manager yet?”
“There's no point,” said Distikka. “This is the best the hotel has to offer. I made sure they gave us their three finest suites.”
The Empress looked round at her rooms, which were, by any normal standards, very luxurious.
“This is the best they have? Really? It is most unsatisfactory.” She strode into the main bedroom and frowned as she saw the full-length mirror on the wall.
“Very poor quality,” she muttered. She uttered a spell, causing a new mirror to materialize, bigger and clearer than the other. “That is a little better. Alchet, prepare to help me dress. Distikka, what is first on the agenda?”
“The afternoon fashion show and clothes auction.”
“Excellent. No doubt there will be some worthy young designers showing us their wares. Fill my purse with gold coinage. We must bid enthusiastically for some items, to show our generosity.”
The Empress smiled for the first time since her arrival. “Bakmer, inform the relevant people that I am here. The fabulous heiress from South America has arrived, to sponsor events, break hearts and have her picture taken. This is going to be the most glorious day.”
The Mistress of the Werewolves had tramped a long way through Colburn Woods and was beginning to feel frustrated.
Where is she? She should have appeared by now
.
Verasa walked along paths that were not as familiar as they once had been. She swore as she caught her skirt in some thorns, and struggled to release it.
“I knew I should have come at night,” muttered Verasa. At night she'd have been able to change into her werewolf shape, leaving her untroubled by thorns. She'd realized some time ago that her clothes were unsuitable for walking through the thick woods. Her skirt kept getting caught up in the vegetation. The Mistress of the Werewolves disliked wearing trousers. She'd grown up in an era when that was seldom done, and it had never come naturally.
Am I even going in the right direction?
It was so long since Verasa had visited Colburn Woods that she'd almost forgotten the way to the dell where the Fairy Queen held court. She was sure the pathways had been different back then. Verasa carried on, but was brought to a halt almost immediately by another thorn bush.
This is infuriating! And why hasn't the Queen appeared? She must know I'm here. Does she expect me to walk all the way through her woods just for an audience?
There was a sudden peal of laughter behind her. Verasa turned round to find a very small fairy hovering in the air.
“Is that really Verasa MacRinnalch, Mistress of the Werewolves, blundering through Colburn Woods in her Sunday best?”
“Nice of you to put in an appearance, Dithean NicRinnalch,” said Verasa. “I thought I was going to have to walk all the way to your dell.”
“You'd never have made it,” said the fairy. “Not in that skirt.”
Verasa looked down at her skirt, which was torn in several places. “It was a poor choice,” she admitted. “Though I wasn't expecting to have to walk so far.”
“Why not? Did you expect the Fairy Queen to just pop out the moment you arrived, when you haven't visited me for hundreds of years?”