The Royal Palace of the Hainusta was connected to the volcano, existing with it in some sort of symbiotic relationship. Rather than causing harm, the fiery outpouring of the volcano gave power to the Empress and her people.
Sarapen knew that he shouldn’t be able to stand so close to the boiling lava. The heat should have driven him back. He hardly felt it. Empress Kabachetka had worked spells on him, enabling him to exist in her land. Since taking control of the volcano, Kabachetka’s power had greatly increased. Here in her own land there seemed to be little she couldn’t do. She could enable a werewolf to exist alongside the Fire Elementals. She could cause a werewolf to live when he should have died. Sarapen’s fingers touched his chest, something he did quite often these days, unconsciously. Beneath his shirt there was a terrible scar. Even the Empress’s healing powers couldn’t get rid of that. But she had prevented him from dying, though the Begravar knife that had pierced his chest should have been lethal. No werewolf could survive such a strike. The weapon had been designed specially to confuse and kill any shape-shifting creature. It was always lethal against werewolves. It was also forbidden. No werewolf would use it against a fellow member of the clan.
“Apart from Kalix, of course,” murmured Sarapen. “She had no hesitation about thrusting it into my chest.”
The huge werewolf smiled. He despised his sister Kalix, but somehow he didn’t hold it against her that she’d stabbed him with the Begravar knife. At the time, he’d been trying to kill her. Most probably he’d have used the knife on Kalix if he could. Clan traditions were important, but the most important thing about a war was to win it, and Kalix had done that.
“I’ll pay her back one day,” he muttered.
Sarapen was the eldest son of the old Thane. He was the strongest werewolf in the MacRinnalch clan. He should have been elected as leader when his father died. His mother had seen to it that he hadn’t been. Thanks to Verasa, his brother Markus was the new Thane. His mother, his brother and both his sisters had all conspired against him.
“But I’m still alive,” mused Sarapen. “That would surprise them. Alive and stuck in an alien dimension. That surprises me.”
He heard a soft footstep behind him. Only the Empress had access to this part of the roof. She approached him from behind and put a hand on his shoulder. Sarapen didn’t turn around.
“I still want to go back,” said Sarapen.
There was a moment’s silence. When the young Empress spoke there was a note of frustration in her voice. “I can’t send you back yet. The after-effects of the Begravar knife will kill you if you return to Earth.”
Sarapen remained silent, staring out over the streams of lava.
“Why go back anyway?” said Kabachetka. “What’s in Scotland for you? A clan that betrayed you? Werewolves who don’t appreciate you?”
“I should be Thane,” said Sarapen.
“So what? How would that compare to staying in a palace with an Empress?” Kabachetka edged her way to his side, placing her arm around his frame. “I know you miss your home. I’ll be able to send you back sometime. My sorcerers are working on it. Meanwhile . . .”
The Empress stood on her tiptoes to kiss Sarapen, embracing him as she did. She liked to put her arms around Sarapen. His muscles felt like steel beneath his garments.
Sarapen kissed her back, not as passionately as the Empress would have liked. She withdrew her lips and gazed into his eyes.
“Your mind is elsewhere.”
Sarapen nodded.
“Are you thinking about your clan?”
“You said you’d bring me news.”
The Empress sighed. “I really have little business on Earth these days. It’s difficult for me to bring news.”
Sarapen nodded. He didn’t know whether to believe the Empress or not. She always sounded sincere, but the werewolf found it hard to believe she knew nothing of his relations back on Earth. He turned to gaze out over the red rock landscape that fell away in a long slope beyond the volcano.
“Now you’re thinking about going to fight in the desert!” exclaimed the Empress, and sounded cross.
“I thought you weren’t going to read my aura,” said Sarapen.
“I am not reading your aura. I never learned to read werewolf auras. It’s perfectly obvious you want to go and fight in the desert. Or anywhere away from me, I suppose.”
Sarapen didn’t reply. There was a long-standing conflict between the Hainusta and the Hiyasta in the Western Desert. Sarapen was tired of the palace, and having no other prospect that pleased him, he’d asked the Empress to send him to the fighting. The Empress had so far demurred.
“I can’t understand why you’d want to go and fight anyway. I have a beautiful palace and beautiful lands. And I’m beautiful too.”
Sarapen looked at her. He nodded. “You are. But I don’t belong in this palace.”
For a brief second it seemed as if the Empress might flare up in anger. Instead, she laughed and put her arm around him again.
“You’ll change your mind, Sarapen. I’m a much better prospect than fighting in the desert. Or a gloomy castle full of werewolves.”
Dominil’s calm exterior showed signs of fraying as the twins prevaricated at the refreshment stand.
“I can’t make up my mind,” said Beauty.
“Me neither,” said her sister.
“Maybe we should just buy everything?”
“I want everything too!” cried Vex, who had a very sweet tooth.
“Do you want anything, Kalix?” asked Daniel, raising his voice to compete with Vex and the twins.
Kalix shook her head.
“A hot dog? Maybe they could give you a raw one?”
Kalix looked outraged, and turned to Moonglow. “Tell Daniel to stop making jokes about me eating raw hot dogs!”
“Daniel, stop making jokes about Kalix eating raw hot dogs.”
Moonglow and Dominil looked at the squabbling mass in front of the confectionery stall. Moonglow sighed.
“It’s like taking children to the pictures.”
“Indeed,” agreed Dominil. “I’m not sure how I ended up in this position.”
“I know!” said Moonglow. “That’s just how I feel. How did I end up being the mother?”
Dominil and Moonglow shared a brief moment of empathy before shepherding their charges into the cinema. Fortunately for their state of mind, the cinema was quiet for the afternoon showing, and there were few people there to witness the loud behavior of their party. They trooped through the corridor, looking for the correct screen in the large cinema complex.
“Does everyone have their tickets?” asked Moonglow.
“I’ve lost mine,” said Vex.
“How do you know? You didn’t even check.”
“I just assumed,” said Vex, and started fumbling in her pocket. “Oh, here it is!” She brandished her ticket triumphantly.
“I’ve lost my ticket,” said Daniel.
Moonglow scowled at him. “Stop making jokes.”
“I’m not joking. I really have lost it.”
Daniel started searching through all his pockets.
“How could you lose it?” asked Moonglow.