Abruptly there came the sound of what seemed like a silenced gun, not loud, but distinctive. A patch of red erupted in Ruraich's chest, and he pitched forward onto the pavement, shot from behind. There was a brief second of incredulity as the werewolves looked for the source of the gunfire. Unable to locate it, they scattered wildly as another shot rang out. At one time, it had been unheard of for werewolf hunters to fire in daylight for fear of killing a human instead of a werewolf. That didn't seem to be the case anymore.

Kalix sprinted through the corner of a garden. Finding herself confronted by a tall wire fence, she hauled herself over it in an instant and tumbled down a steep bank towards the railway that ran past the park. The line was broad, with eight tracks, and cut deeply into the earth. Kalix made to hurry across but was suddenly dragged backwards.

"What-"

It was Decembrius. At that moment, a train hurtled past on the nearest track.

"No need to throw yourself in front of a train," said Decembrius.

Kalix wrenched her arm free and scowled, not wanting to be saved by Decembrius. They hurried across the line but were halted by another train, coming from the opposite direction. They were on a long bend and visibility was limited in both directions. Crossing eight tracks was a hazardous business. Just then another shot rang out, and a bullet ricocheted away off the metal rails.

"Damn this," roared Decembrius, scanning the bank above for their assailants without success.

Both werewolves fled across the tracks as the train disappeared. As they reached the opposite side, they could feel night arriving. The moon was close, and they'd be able to change, if they survived that long.

"Get down," yelled Decembrius. Kalix felt herself once again dragged by her companion, this time to the ground.

"There's one of them on the opposite bank," he said. "We're trapped."

Another shot rang out. The two werewolves flattened themselves down, trying to stay out of the firing arc of the hunters above them. Another train roared past, deafeningly loud at such close range.

"We need the moon," gasped Decembrius. "And thanks for helping me with the Douglas-MacPhees."

"You didn't deserve help," growled Kalix.

"I'd have helped you."

More shots rang out, though whether they were directed at them or other werewolves still at the scene, they didn't know. Neither Kalix nor Decembrius had had time to notice where the Douglas-MacPhees had gone after Ruraich was hit.

Kalix began to edge up the bank.

"Don't! You'll get shot!"

Kalix only growled in return. To find herself under attack, to actually see a fellow werewolf shot, was too much for her rational self.

"Wait till you change!" hissed Decembrius. "We'll attack as werewolves!"

Kalix couldn't wait. She lost all reason as her battle madness descended. Making no effort to conceal herself, she sprinted up the bank. Her skinny frame flew up the grassy slope, her long hair flying out behind her, a look of murderous rage in her eyes. Halfway up, the moon rose, and she transformed. She accelerated up the steep incline. Catching sight of a figure at the top of the bank, she hurtled over the fence, moving with incredible speed, jaws open, teeth bared, aching to kill and taste the blood of her opponents. She neither heard the next shot that was fired nor felt it as it whistled through the fur on her shoulder. She somersaulted off the top of the fence to arrive, howling with rage, at the side of a large hunter who turned and ran. He made it only a few steps before Kalix descended on him and sank her teeth into the back of his neck, picking him up like a doll, shaking him wildly, and flinging his body to the ground. Though he was already dead from the terrible bite, she smashed her taloned foot into his body before raising her snout, eager for another victim. She scented more humans nearby and began crashing through the bushes beside the railway fence, oblivious to any thought of danger from the hunters' guns.

As she burst into a clearing, she found herself confronted by two more members of the guild. One of them began to run, but his companion raised his pistol and pointed it directly at the werewolf. Kalix flew through the air and took his arm in her jaws in the brief second before he squeezed the trigger. He yelled in pain as she dragged him to the ground and almost decapitated him with a swipe from her talons. Again, though he was killed instantly, Kalix bit his lifeless corpse and stamped on it cruelly before setting off in pursuit of the other hunter.

Decembrius had by this time reached the top of the bank and clambered over the fence. He couldn't keep up with Kalix and ran desperately in her wake, convinced that he was going to find her bullet-riddled body lying dead in the bushes. He passed her first victim and then her second and sprinted through the clearing into a small clump of trees where he almost collided with Kalix, who was savaging the dead body of a third hunter. Decembrius, who never lost his rationality, looked on in shock as Kalix tore the man's body to pieces, sending blood splattering over the nearby trees and over her own fur, which was now heavily stained.

At that moment, a huge rottweiler erupted on to the scene. It could have been with the guild; they did use trained dogs to hunt werewolves. It could have been a stray. Or even a family pet, out in the park to run around. Kalix didn't wait to find out. As the dog advanced, she grabbed its foreleg, sank the talons of her other hand into its neck, and lifted it into the air. She bit its neck, and there was a sickening crunching noise as the bones splintered. Kalix tossed the heavy carcass away without another glance then looked around eagerly for more victims.

"Enough," said Decembrius, and he reached out to touch her.

Kalix snarled. Her eyes were still dark, burning, and full of madness. She began sniffing around, still growling, looking for another victim.

"This way." Decembrius tried to lead her deeper into the trees. He was acutely aware that there could still be other hunters around. Even if there were no more members of the guild, there were sure to be plenty of innocent people in Regent's Park. With Kalix in her present state, Decembrius didn't trust her not to kill anyone she came across. Even though he'd once accompanied the terrifying Sarapen MacRinnalch into battle, Decembrius had never experienced anyone as frighteningly berserk as Kalix. She snarled and growled as he led her on, turning her head this way and that, looking for hunters.

Kalix's tongue was lolling from her mouth, and she opened and closed her great werewolf fangs.

"I think we're safe now," said Decembrius. "We should change back and get out of here." He could see a path nearby; they were almost at the spot where the trees gave way to open parkland. Two joggers went past, and Decembrius found himself holding tightly onto Kalix lest she leap out and attack them.

Kalix licked blood from her lips. "I want more hunters."

"We should go." Decembrius tried to pull Kalix along, but she lashed out at him. He avoided the blow but, being himself in an agitated state, was unable to control himself completely. He struck out in retaliation, though not fiercely. Kalix swiped his paw out of the way and then hit him again. This time the blow connected, and Decembrius crashed backwards into a tree. Enraged, he leapt at Kalix, and they tumbled to the ground. Decembrius landed on top, and his weight pinned her to the ground, but he arched himself backwards to avoid having her sink her teeth into his neck. He looked into her maddened eyes. "We should get out of here," he repeated.

Abruptly the madness seemed to fade from Kalix's eyes, and she transformed back to human. Decembrius did the same, still on top of her. Then, without thinking what he was doing, he kissed her. Kalix immediately kissed him back, quite fiercely.

After a few seconds, she thrust him away. "Don't do that!" she said and lashed out again.

"Stop trying to hit me," growled Decembrius.

Kalix looked at him with disgust then leapt to her feet. "Go and play with the Douglas-MacPhees. You're a traitor. Don't come near me ever again." With that, she turned and left.

"Hey, I didn't make you kiss me!" called Decembrius, then he winced in pain from Kalix's final blow. He couldn't recall having been hit so hard by anyone he'd kissed before. Decembrius grinned. He couldn't smell any other werewolves in the area, and the sounds of the commotion of battle had long since faded. Apart from the joggers in the distance, he seemed to be alone. He composed himself, then set off, heading along the bank, looking for a safe place to cross the railway line. Emerging from the trees, he ran straight into a young couple with two children in tow.

"Have you seen our dog?" asked one of the children.

"Your dog?"

"Rexy. He's a rottweiler. He ran off."

The family looked at him expectantly.

Decembrius shook his head. "I didn't pass a dog. Probably best looking in the other direction."

Decembrius hurried off, not wanting to be in the vicinity if the family found what little remained of their pet after Kalix had torn it to pieces. He scrambled quickly over the fence, down onto the railway line, up the opposite verge, and over a wall into the back gardens of a row of terraced houses, then hurried back into the evening streets of Camden.

CHAPTER 116.

Dithean NicRinnalch, Fairy Queen of Colburn Woods, was waiting for Minerva MacRinnalch when she arrived, though Minerva hadn't warned her she was coming and hadn't been seen in these parts for many years. The Fairy Queen sat on a branch of a silver birch tree, her dark green apparel standing out in contrast to the pale bark. The ancient werewolf smiled when she saw her.

"I never could catch you unawares."

Minerva MacRinnalch was very old; she'd known the Fairy Queen's mother, and Dithean's mother had passed on two hundred years ago. Despite her years, she showed no signs of frailty. She was still a strong werewolf, though she led a very peaceful life in her retirement.

Minerva remained at her normal size, politely declining the Fairy Queen's offer to make her smaller for the duration of her visit. She looked around at the forest. She'd chosen this spot because she remembered the silver birch trees. Minerva liked the contrast of their pale bark with the darker alders and rowans. Colburn Woods was one of the few untouched remnants of the ancient Caledonian forest that had once covered the whole of Scotland. Dithean fluttered from her branch, perching on the tip of a blaeberry shrub. A bee droned lazily past, but it was used to the fairies and ignored her.

"I can't quite see what my old pupil is doing," said Minerva.

"Thrix? She rarely visits me these days. Though Queen Malveria does."

"Really? What for?"

"Some respite from the troubles of being a ruler. And also to learn the secret of my lip coloring."

"Are you going to tell her?"

"We've made a bet."

Minerva smiled. "The fairies always were fond of gambling."

"As is Malveria. It lends weight to our contention that the Hiyasta are a branch of the fairy line, though Malveria will never admit it."

"Your legend of the origins of the Fire Elementals is hardly flattering," pointed out Minerva. "A group of fairies who became obsessed with fire, eventually having their wings burned off, then growing large and clumsy."

"It sounds bad when you put it like that," agreed Dithean.

"What's your wager?"

"My lip coloring against Malveria's Santorini necklace, depending on whether Thrix MacRinnalch can find a happy relationship."

"You think she can't?"

Queen Dithean smiled and curled her wings. "Do you think she can?"

"I'm not really in touch with such things these days. I won't pass an opinion."

Dithean laughed. "You know as well as I do that the Thane's offspring will never be happy."

Minerva gazed towards the south. "What has Malveria told you about Thrix?"

"Her business enterprise has money problems."

Minerva, graceful in her werewolf form under the moonlight, nodded. She had long hair all over her body, as was common for a MacRinnalch werewolf. "Very odd for a werewolf to be so obsessed by clothes."

"It's odd for a werewolf to learn sorcery," pointed out Queen Dithean, "but you did it hundreds of years ago. And outraged your family, as I remember."

Minerva laughed. "I did. As did Thrix. I'm worried about her. Do you know why that might be?"

"I don't think I do. Nothing Queen Malveria said was too worrying." Queen Dithean's golden hair shone in the moonlight. A badger poked its head out from its set and stared, fascinated by the sight.

"Malveria did mention that Thrix had a new man in her life."

"A husband?" asked Minerva, surprised.

"A lover."

Minerva turned her old, wise eyes towards the south again and looked down through the valleys and glens of Scotland, past the towns and cities of the lowlands, right into the depths of England, all the way into the heart of London. She nodded. "I could never understand why Thrix was so keen on living in the city."

There was a long silence. A family of hedgehogs walked past, three spiky young cubs following their mother.

"I can see trouble coming."

"Of course," agreed the Fairy Queen. "Thrix's relationship will falter, winning me the necklace."

Minerva frowned. "Something worse than that, I think."

CHAPTER 117.

Ihad a terrible time at university today!" exclaimed Daniel. "Translating Chaucer! In front of other people! I'm still bridling at the memory."

"You look like you're bridling," said Moonglow.

"I'm completely bridling. What happened to the modern education system? Haven't we advanced beyond making people translate Chaucer in front of their whole tutorial group? Is this really helping anyone?"

"I assume it went badly?" said Moonglow.

"A disaster. Middle English may not survive the experience. I'm sure my tutor was laughing at me. Is he allowed to do that? Is this pizza ever going to arrive? Am I supposed to spend the whole day translating Chaucer and then just starve to death?"

The doorbell rang. Daniel's face brightened, but before he could make it downstairs, Kalix appeared carrying the pizza box.

"I met the delivery boy," she mumbled.

"Okay," said Daniel. "Let's have the pizza."

"Sorry," said Kalix, and dropped the empty box on the table. "I was hungry."

Daniel was staggered by Kalix's treachery. "You ate the whole thing on the way up the stairs?" Daniel looked to Moonglow for support. "Kalix ate my pizza!"

"Hungry evening as a werewolf, Kalix?" asked Moonglow.

Kalix nodded.

"I could tell. You always need to eat after you've been a werewolf."

"What about my pizza?" demanded Daniel. "I had a hungry day too."

"Phone for another one."