Читать книгу The Anxiety of Kalix the Werewolf - Martin Millar - Страница 10

CHAPTER 4

The Fire Queen was noticeably maudlin when she arrived at her friend Thrix’s apartment. Never one to hide her emotions, she sighed loudly as she settled down on the couch.

“Are you all right?” asked Thrix.

“I am perfectly fine, my dearest friend. I have arrived here to watch the Japanese fashion show in excellent spirits.”

Malveria sipped from a glass of red wine and sighed loudly again. The Enchantress smiled.

“Tell me what’s wrong, Malveria.”

“Really, nothing is wrong. Apart from the most trifling matter. But not a matter the Queen of the Hiyasta would trouble herself over.”

Thrix gave a little shrug and settled down to watch the program. The first model was no more than halfway down the runway when the Fire Queen uttered another sigh.

The Enchantress raised an eyebrow. “Malveria, stop sighing like a love-struck teenager and tell me what’s on your mind.”

“Well, really, Thrix, I would not dream of mentioning it had you not dragged it out of me in such a brutal manner, but the truth is I’m feeling old.”

“Old?” Thrix was very surprised. Though Malveria was many hundreds of years old—the Enchantress wasn’t quite sure how many—she was still far from elderly in terms of the Hiyasta, the most vigorous of whom could carry on brightly for thousands of years. Fire Elementals took a very long time to grow dim. “What brought this on?”

“My appalling niece. Kalix has an eighteenth birthday party approaching. The foul Agrivex has plunged headlong into the affair, declaring herself to be eighteen too, which is accurate, more or less. She will now share the party.”

The Fire Queen looked downcast. “Hearing them planning their eighteenth birthday made me feel very old. No doubt the party will involve much foolish behavior, and Agrivex will drink too much and make herself ill. But really, I cannot help feeling jealous.”

“Jealous? Why?”

“On my eighteenth birthday, I was hiding in a cave with a price on my head. Only good fortune and the assistance of Xakthan allowed me to escape.”

“But you like these memories,” said Thrix. “You were facing hopeless odds and you defeated them. You became Queen.”

“Eventually, yes,” agreed Malveria. “But it was a long, weary process and it took up my youth. I never had an eighteenth birthday party, or any sort of party. I was always running, hiding or fighting. And now, observing Agrivex, I suddenly wished that I had had some parties when I was a young girl.”

The Fire Queen sighed again. “And now I feel old.”

Malveria sank further into her armchair. “Look at that young model in her beautiful dress. I could not wear that. It is too young a style.”

“You could wear it perfectly, Malveria,” said Thrix sincerely.

“And now the model is pouting!” cried Malveria. “It is annoying!”

“What’s wrong with pouting?”

“Only young people can do it gracefully. Agrivex pouts furiously. Many days she does little else. But on me it would be unbecoming.”

Thrix was quite certain she’d seen Malveria pouting many times, quite becomingly, and didn’t understand her friend’s gloom. Though the Fire Queen was prone to excesses of emotion, it was unusual for her to exhibit depression. She lapsed into silence in front of the television. Thrix caused the wine bottle on the table next to her to levitate, filling both their glasses, and they sat mostly in silence, only occasionally commenting on the fashions on display. From the kitchen came the faint hum of the air conditioning. Though it had been an indifferent summer in London, the clouds had cleared in the past week, ushering in an unexpected wave of heat that now hung over the capital.

“There is much talk in the elemental lands of the new young Empress of the Hainusta,” said Malveria, suddenly.

“Ah . . .” said Thrix and nodded. “Kabachetka.”

“Everyone is talking about her!” exclaimed the Fire Queen. “The young Empress with her blonde hair and beautiful outfits. Ha! It is the same vile Kabachetka. Just because she has ascended to the throne—no doubt after poisoning the old Empress—does not mean that people should be making a fuss over her. I cannot tell you how it irritates me!”

The Fire Queen, Thrix realized, had been considerably younger than the previous Empress. Now the younger Kabachetka had taken power and it had obviously upset her.

“You know the bards on the borders are singing songs about her youthful beauty? Youthful beauty! The only beauty Kabachetka has came out of a clinic in Los Angeles. Her mother was bad enough with her visits to the cosmetic surgeon, but at her age, one could find some excuse. Kabachetka has been hopping through the dimensions since she was a girl, getting this tucked and that altered. I swear she’ll fall apart one day, hopefully in a most painful manner.”

The Fire Queen drained her glass and snapped her fingers, tilting the wine bottle over her glass. Nothing emerged.

“Is there something the matter with this bottle?” said Malveria. “It seems to have emptied far too quickly.”

“I’ll get another,” said Thrix, and headed for the kitchen. The Fire Queen followed her.

“So between the new young Empress and my foolish young niece, I am now feeling old. A relic from a past age, like one of these pieces in the museum that Dominil is so keen on visiting. Please tell me that my outfits for new season are ready?”

“They’re ready,” said Thrix.

As well as a good friend, Malveria was also a very important client. Her money and patronage had kept Thrix’s business going when times were hard.

“Good.” The Fire Queen was partly mollified. “Perhaps there may be one last flowering of my fashionable glory before I retire into my dotage.”

Thrix couldn’t help herself from laughing. “‘Dotage’? When did you learn that word?”

“It was used in a harsh piece in American Vogue concerning a designer the editor did not like. I greatly admire that editor. She is so cruel.” Malveria suddenly looked troubled. “What if she were cruel to me? I do not think I could bear it.”

“Malveria, why would that happen? You’re always the best-dressed person in the room.”

“If that’s the case, why have they never included me in their ‘fashionable party people’ page?”

It was a long-standing ambition of the Fire Queen to appear as a “fashionable party person” in Vogue. Her failure to achieve this was a source of constant irritation.

“Though I have appeared at many of the most fashionable events, and practically flung myself in front of the cameras, they have so far resisted me. It is most aggravating. Am I not fashionable?”

“You’re very fashionable. But there’s a lot of competition. Don’t worry, we’ve got a lot of events coming up.”

Thrix used a small piece of sorcery to bring up her social calendar, which hung in the air in front of them. The Fire Queen gazed at it approvingly. Since Thrix’s business picked up, she was being invited to more events.

“Soon we will attend the designer of the year awards. Such a wonderful occasion.”

The Fire Queen finished another glass of wine. “I feel my gloom lifting. I must be at my most fashionable at this event. Vogue will take my picture, and then the new young Empress will see what it really means to be an icon of style.”