"I like highlighting," said Vex, and beamed at the teacher.

A few people in the class giggled. The teacher seemed to shrink a little. Attempting to gather himself, he directed the attention of his students towards the blackboard and continued to speak. "As you can see-"

"Kalix, do you need to borrow a highlighter?" cried Vex, loudly. "I have some spare ones-green and pink and yellow. I like yellow best."

"Please pay attention," said the teacher, firmly. The young Fire Elemental smiled at him broadly to show she was paying attention.

The two Chinese students next to her frowned at her, wanting to get on with the lesson. Vex beamed at them too. Kalix slumped in her chair and wondered if this would ever end.

CHAPTER 55.

The enchantress relaxed on her couch. There was a bottle of wine on the table next to her, and two glasses hovering in the air. She made the wine bottle float, filled the two glasses, and snapped her fingers to bring one towards her, leaving the other hovering in the air.

The Fire Queen materialized beside her on the couch. "Am I on time?"

"Just about to begin."

"Excellent. I do so love the Japanese fashion cable network." Malveria drew the other glass of wine towards her and then sat contentedly beside the enchantress, watching their favorite program.

"These shoes are not good at all," said the Fire Queen, after ten minutes or so. "I have many better pairs. Nor do I like her handbag. Though I have some liking for the cocktail dress."

Thrix agreed with Malveria. "It's nice. Not too much like the one I'll show you tomorrow though."

The queen smiled in anticipation of the new range of cocktail dresses the enchantress had prepared for her. "I am expecting many triumphs at my upcoming social events. My subjects may ever after speak with awe of the fabulous age of Malveria's splendid cocktail dresses." She smiled warmly and picked her bag off of the floor to cradle it in her lap. "Ever since I obtained this bag, life has felt good."

The enchantress nodded. Her own bag, a match for the Fire Queen's, rested on the floor beside the couch. Since the enchantress had secured two advance copies of the Abukenti handbag, a bag that had rapidly become the number one item that the fashionable woman must have, both Malveria and Thrix had felt themselves enveloped in the warm glow that only having the most wanted handbag on the planet could produce. There were important people in the fashion world-editors, billionaires' wives, princesses-who would have done anything to get hold of an Abukenti bag but couldn't. The range had sold out immediately. It was a great triumph for Thrix that she'd secured them, and one that had brought both herself and the Fire Queen much happiness.

"There's nothing like a really good handbag," sighed Malveria, during the commercial break. "It gets one through all sorts of crises." She sipped her wine. "Have you located Susi Surmata, the reluctant fashion writer?"

Thrix frowned and brought her own bag from the floor on to her lap for comfort. "No. I've emailed the woman five more times, and she still hasn't gotten back to me. She obviously hated my clothes and decided not to write about them. Leaving me looking foolish in the eyes of the fashion buyer at Eldridges who will now never buy any clothes from me. Leading to debt, failure, and bankruptcy."

"Perhaps you exaggerate a little?"

"Not much. Damn Susi Surmata."

"We must find her. Bring forth all the information you have on her, and we will work great sorcery. Did I tell you that I recently tricked the vile Princess Kabachetka? My intelligence services managed to convince her that she was turning up merely for some daytime event when it was in fact an evening soiree, and the poor woman had to remain for hours, incorrectly dressed! Such hilarity has not been seen in my realm for years." The Fire Queen paused and looked puzzled. "What were we talking about?"

"Susi Surmata not writing about me."

"Ah yes. And indeed, I've learned that this Susi woman does indeed have great power. Every magazine I read seems to quote her, and fashion editors hang on her words. It is most strange that she has let you down."

The two friends drank more wine and watched the next segment of the program together.

"Were we speaking of your love life?" asked Malveria after a while.

"No."

"I'm sure it was mentioned somewhere."

"It definitely wasn't," declared Thrix.

"Ah," mused Malveria, "a sure sign that it's going badly. The terrifying lack of romance in your life may have destructive consequences, Enchantress. Something has to be done."

"No, it doesn't."

"Yes, it does. Now I know, Enchantress, that you do not enjoy outsiders meddling, and I would never dream of doing such a thing. However, I have been searching for a suitable partner for you."

"How is that not meddling?"

"A little help hardly counts as meddling. Anyway, I have met the perfect man, at the opera. I've arranged for you to have dinner with him tomorrow night."

"What?" Thrix's blue eyes widened in alarm. "You've set me up on a blind date? For tomorrow night?"

"Is it not splendid?"

"No! I'm busy. And besides, blind dates are always a disaster."

"But all your dates are disasters, dearest friend. You may at least try this one. Really, he is a most suitable man, employed in the fashion industry, with a keen eye for a good frock. I found him charming and attractive."

Thrix felt an urgent need to fill up her wine glass. "How am I supposed to make conversation with a man I don't know?"

"Enchantress, a woman who masterminded the defeat of the terrible Three-Headed Dragon of Despair does not just send her friend out on a date without planning in advance. I will be there to move things along. I've arranged for you, your date, myself, and Mr. Felicori to eat together in that splendid restaurant near to the opera house. Do not worry about piling on surplus pounds; Mr. Felicori is a large man with a hearty appetite and can no doubt eat for both of us."

Thrix was by this time staring at the queen open-mouthed. "You're having dinner with Felicori? The opera singer?"

"Is it not excellent? I have separated him from the herd of women who pursued him, and now we will have dinner. Your mother's opera venture is now secure. Mr. Felicori will sing for her, not wishing to fail to do me a favor."

Thrix, while not liking the sound of the plan at all, was forced to admit that the queen had done well if she'd persuaded Felicori to sing in Edinburgh. "Thanks, Malveria. Mother will be pleased. But did you really have to include me in your plans? I don't want to go on a date."

"Nonsense, Enchantress. Your body is screaming for sex."

"No, it isn't."

"Then it should be. I am so looking forward to our dinner together."

Thrix sighed. There seemed no way out of it. "What's this man's name?"

"James. Or, if you wish to refer to him by his old military title-which some women do find thrilling-Captain Easterly."

CHAPTER 56.

Verasa MacRinnalch, wife of the late Thane, mother of the new Thane, and still Mistress of the Werewolves, sat in her airy chamber in the castle and contemplated her forthcoming fundraising event with pleasure. Markus had proved to be a very able organizer, and she was delighted with the way he'd helped. Now it seemed almost certain that Felicori would sing at her event, so it was bound to garner a lot of attention. Verasa felt unusually warm towards Thrix. Verasa didn't quite know how she'd done it, but Thrix had persuaded the notoriously difficult Felicori to sing for them. It was splendid news, even more satisfying than the letter she'd received recently from the moderator of the Church of Scotland, thanking her for her generous contribution to the restoration of the old church in Cromarty.

She took a few sips from her glass of red wine, savoring the drink and feeling more relaxed than she had for a long time. Her event was going to be successful. Markus was a good Thane. Life was satisfactory.

A servant knocked discreetly and entered her chambers. "There's a woman at the castle gates asking to see you, Mistress."

"At the gates? Someone we know?" Castle MacRinnalch was located in a very remote part of the Highlands. Strangers didn't just appear at the gates.

"Apparently not. The guard would have dismissed her, but she introduced herself as Princess Kabachetka. Not wishing to offend a member of the royal family, he asks for advice."

Verasa stared. Princes Kabachetka was a member of a royal family, but not of her world. She rose from her chair and spoke rather urgently. "Kabachetka? She was an ally of Sarapen and an enemy of Thrix." Verasa stubbed out her cigarette and finished her wine with a quick gulp. "Tell the guard to escort her to my reception room. Make that several guards. And don't let her out of their sight."

Minutes later there was a hasty conference in Verasa's chambers as Clan Secretary Rainal arrived in a hurry, as troubled and perplexed as Verasa. Fire Elementals were not welcome visitors at Castle MacRinnalch.

"Has Markus returned from Edinburgh?" Rainal asked.

The Mistress of the Werewolves shook her head. The Thane was away on business and wasn't expected back till the next day.

"Perhaps you should delay the interview till night falls," suggested Rainal.

"So I can transform? Rainal, I hardly think it's going to come to open combat."

"She fought for Sarapen."

"The war's over. I can't see why she'd carry it on. It's not like the MacRinnalchs have ever been enemies of the Hainusta."

It was true. The Hiyasta and the MacRinnalchs had been enemies for a very long time, due to some unfortunate incidents in the past, but the antagonism had never extended to the neighboring realm of the Hainusta. Indeed, it was hard to remember any contact between the two races.

"It's like stepping back in time," mused Verasa. "The Fire Elementals hardly trouble the Earth these days. Or at least, they didn't till Thrix started making clothes for them."

"Princess Kabachetka was the last person to see Sarapen alive. She took his body away." The disappearance of Sarapen's body was a lingering cause of discomfort.

"I suppose I should find out what she wants," said Verasa, briskly. She made her way down the short stone corridor that led to her reception rooms. Like the rest of her chambers, it was more comfortably furnished than the rest of the castle. Outside the reception room, Verasa greeted the guard, opened the door, and strode inside.

The princess, sitting on a red chaise longue, rose gracefully to meet her.

Verasa's first reaction was one of surprise. In her limited experience of Fire Elementals, she'd never encountered one with blond hair before. She hadn't imagined they existed.

"Verasa MacRinnalch, Mistress of the Werewolves? I am Princess Kabachetka, eldest daughter of the Empress Asaratanti, ruler of the realm of the Hainusta." If the princess was at all uncomfortable to find herself in the midst of a clan of werewolves, she didn't show it. Her voice was relaxed, each syllable rolling off of her tongue in what seemed like an exaggeratedly exotic manner.

The Mistress of the Werewolves eyed her curiously, taking in her expensive clothes, her perfectly coiffured hair, her elegant high heels. She could see why she was a rival to Malveria.

"I apologize for turning up unannounced, in breach of all protocols. But I felt a swift visit in person was best. I have come about Sarapen."

"What about him?" said Verasa, stiffly.

"I am sorry to tell you that he is dead."

"I believe we knew that already. The Begravar knife to the heart was a killing blow."

"Not quite," said the princess. "I withdrew the knife and removed his still-living body in an attempt to save him. I placed him in a state of suspended animation at the root of the great Eternal Volcano of the Hainusta. There, the energies kept him alive. It was my intention to try and revive him. To that end, I utilized all the power of the Hainusta-our fire, our volcano, and our sorcery. For months, I struggled to save his life." The princess paused, and her brow wrinkled delicately. "I am most sorry to report that I failed." Her brow wrinkled further, and she passed her hand across her forehead. She pursed her lips, as if struggling to control some deep emotion.

"Do you mind if I sit? The teleportation from my dimension to your castle was long and cold." She took her seat on the chaise longue and stared at the floor.

When she looked up again, a tear was glistening on her cheek. "I held your son in very high regard. I'm so sorry I could not save him."

The Mistress of the Werewolves was quite startled by the princess's tale. She'd believed that Sarapen had died months ago, victim to the mortal wound of the Begravar knife. Apparently this wasn't the case. She sat down beside the princess.

"Did he regain consciousness?"

Princess Kabachetka shook her head. "No, we could not bring him back to consciousness. But he rested peacefully in these last months, sustained by the volcano."

The Mistress of the Werewolves found herself unsure of what to say and touched by more emotion than she'd expected to feel. At the end of his life, Sarapen had been her bitter enemy. In truth, they had never really been friends. Sarapen had been the Thane's favorite. Verasa much preferred Markus. But now, hearing of his last days and of Princess Kabachetka's efforts to save his life, she found herself almost sharing in the princess's tears. Verasa held out her hand and placed it on the princess's shoulder to comfort her.

Kabachetka cried for a minute or so then shook her head and brought herself under control. "So now I must return the body to you for proper burial, which is the fitting thing to do."

"I appreciate you coming here," said Verasa. She felt genuinely grateful to the princess. It couldn't have been easy to walk alone into her enemies' stronghold bearing such news. It spoke well of Kabachetka's character.

CHAPTER 57.

When her lessons ended for the day, Kalix felt as if there was a wide open space where her thoughts would normally be. Several hours of studying English and math had led her through anxiety, anger, unhappiness, and depression; at the end of it all, she just felt blank.

"I hate going to college," she thought, making her way wearily from the building. "I'm never coming back."

She quickened her pace, hoping to make it to the bus stop before Vex appeared. She turned a corner, speeded up, and then abruptly collided with the youthful Fire Elemental who'd suddenly materialized in front of her.

"Whoa!" cried Vex as they tumbled to the ground. "Watch where you're going!"

"What do you mean watch where I'm going? You materialized right in front of me! You're not supposed to teleport around here!"

"Is there a rule against it?" asked Vex.