no matter where she traveled. Without it, Kalix would not have survived long in London, where the hunters were active.
The Fire Queen vanished, traveling upstairs where she examined the sorcerous protection with her experienced eye, before appearing back in the living room, apparently satisfied.
“Everything is in order. No enemy will find you here. Kalix, are you remembering to wear your pendant?”
Kalix nodded and then, thinking this might not be polite enough, said, “Yes, thank you.” The young werewolf knew that without the pendant the hunters would have found her by now.
“Good.” Malveria turned her eyes on her niece. “Are you now in control of your monstrous debts?”
“Yes, Aunt Malvie,” said Vex.
“Do not refer to me as Aunt Malvie, dreadful niece. It makes me sound old. Have you been making ready for your next foray into college?”
“Yes, Aunt Malvie.”
“Good. As you have now been here for many months, and my sorcery that surrounds this house remains stable, I believe it will be possible for you to extend your stay on this planet to five days a week.”
The Queen turned to Moonglow. “I apologize if this is inconvenient.”
“No, it’s fine,” said Moonglow.
“You are so hospitable, Moonglow. Many people would tremble at the prospect. Agrivex, do not do anything which will disgrace the Hiyasta nation, annoy your hosts or cause me to lose sleep. Life in my palace is moving along in a most satisfactory manner at this moment, and I want no interruptions.”
With that the Fire Queen bade them a polite farewell, waved a well-manicured hand and dematerialized.
“I can stay here five days a week!” said Vex, and grinned. Having long ago grown bored with life in the Imperial Palace in the land of the Hiyasta Fire Elementals, Vex was much happier to be living as a student in London, even if it had brought with it the unfamiliar terrors of unpaid bills and a housework rotation.
“And we’re having a birthday party! We should start planning it right now! I’ll get my marker pens.”
Vex ran out the room, heading for the attic. There was a brief silence.
“I’m still not really keen on this,” said Kalix.
“Sorry,” said Moonglow. “I wasn’t expecting Vex to go mad and start hijacking your birthday. Don’t worry, we’ll have a nice celebration. I won’t let anything spoil it.”
Queen Malveria reigned over the Hiyasta Fire Elementals. Bordering her realm was the land of the Hainusta. The two Fire Elemental nations had never been great friends. Throughout their history, there had been many territorial squabbles and occasional outbreaks of war. The last major conflict had been a long time ago, but there were still occasional flare-ups, particularly in the Western Desert, where there was an endless border dispute.
Queen Malveria’s relations with Asaratanti, Empress of the Hainusta, had never been warm, but as the centuries passed they’d developed a grudging respect for each other. Their subjects were reassured that warfare was unlikely to break out between them. Recently, however, the elderly Asaratanti had passed away in her sleep. Her son and heir, Prince Esarax, had died in an accident on the very same day. Much to everyone’s surprise, Princess Kabachetka acceded to the throne. Fire Elementals everywhere now wondered what the outcome might be, because it was well known that Kabachetka and Malveria hated each other.
Empress Kabachetka’s palace was situated on the edge of the Eternal Volcano, the huge raging natural furnace from which the nation drew its power. There the Empress was conferring on matters of state with her new chief adviser.
“Chief Adviser Bakmer, I am not at all happy with my new hair coloring. It is a shade too dark and I specifically asked them not to do that. I am considering a mass execution.”
Chief Adviser Bakmer nodded gravely. “Executing your hairdressers might not go well with the population, your majesty.”
“I don’t see why not. Won’t the population be outraged that they got my hair wrong?”
The Empress glanced in one of the many mirrors that adorned the walls and puckered her lips. “I mean, just look at it.”
Bakmer experienced the feeling of hopelessness that was rapidly becoming familiar while talking to the Empress. He swiftly concealed his thoughts. Like all the most powerful Elementals, Kabachetka was skilled in reading auras. It paid to be equally skilled in concealing them.
The Empress looked suspiciously at the papers in her chief adviser’s hand. “Why are you holding that bundle of documents? You know I don’t like documents.”
“The ratifying of your new officials in each district requires your signature, Great Empress.”
Kabachetka sighed. Since becoming Empress, she always seemed to be signing some document or other.
“Put them down somewhere. I’ll sign them later. Meanwhile, kindly initiate a search for a new hairdresser. Someone who knows what ‘ash blonde’ means.”
Chief Adviser Bakmer looked blank.
“It’s a hair color,” snapped Kabachetka. “One that suits me well, and will go with this season’s fashions. Approach stylists in the Earthly dimension if necessary. And don’t look at me like that, Bakmer. I had enough trouble with Tarentia when I brought my shoe designers here from Milan.”
The unfortunate Tarentia had recently suffered disgrace and demotion after proving himself unable to satisfy Empress Kabachetka’s requirements in matters of style. Her new adviser, Bakmer, knew he could easily suffer the same fate. As an ambitious Elemental he didn’t intend to let that happen.
“The population would most certainly not like to see the Empress in inferior shoes,” he said, very convincingly. “Particularly with several important engagements on the horizon.”
The Empress smiled. She enjoyed thinking about her upcoming social engagements.
“Absolutely. When I venture out to that designers’ reception in London, I’ll need the very best shoes that can be obtained in any dimension. The place will be thick with glamorous women from the world of fashion. Malveria will also be there. It is time to put the rapidly aging Fire Queen in her place. Shoes and hair need to be perfect. So find me a competent hairdresser.”
“I will attend to it,” said her chief adviser.
“And send in Distikka.”
Chief Adviser Bakmer bowed, gathered his dark-red court robe about his tall figure and walked swiftly from the throne room. Moments later, Distikka appeared. The liveried guard saluted as she entered. Empress Kabachetka eyed her critically as she approached.
“Do you really have to wear that ancient piece of chain mail at my court?” demanded Empress Kabachetka. “It is quite unbecoming.”
“I like it,” said Distikka. “I grew up wearing it.”
“And it shows. One does not expect you to be fashionable, Distikka, but there is no need to wander around like a refugee from the Western Desert.”
“I am a refugee from the Western Desert.”
Distikka was below average height, and her dark hair was cut very short by the standards of the women at court.
“I am considering executing my hairdressers,” said the Empress.
“That’s foolish,” said Distikka.
“How dare you call me foolish!” cried Kabachetka, flaring up immediately. “Show some respect for the Empress!”
Distikka shrugged, something which no one else at court would have