Page 73 of The Dark Hiss of Magic
‘Doctor Fergus?’ I asked.
‘Nah,’ he said. ‘Just Fergus.’
He Who Guards snorted. I crossed my fingers. There wasn’t much else I could do.
Fergus snapped on a pair of latex gloves, which were welcome given the state of his white coat. The fact that he’d gone to the trouble of sourcing disposable medical items that weren’t readily available in a city like Coldstream suggested he knew what he was doing.
Hightower flitted back into consciousness and moaned, ‘Wh – what?’
‘Don’t talk,’ Fergus said briskly. ‘This will be easier if you don’t.’ He crouched beside him and felt his pulse, then leaned over and inhaled. His expression gave little away and a prickle of suspicion curled through me. ‘I’ll need your help in getting him through to the examination room,’ he said.
I was by his side in a flash, heaving Hightower to his feet. ‘Lead the way.’
Fergus went back behind the desk, leaving me to drag Hightower. At least I knew that this time there wouldn’t be far to go.
Although the waiting room left a lot to be desired, I was pleasantly surprised by the examination room. It was clean and tidy, with a bank of painted cupboards along one side and a medical bed on the other. Ignoring his groans, I shovedHightower onto the bed, lifted his feet and laid him flat on his back.
‘Good,’ Fergus said. ‘You might not be smart but at least you’re strong.’
I bit the inside of my cheek to avoid making a rude retort; I didn’t need Fergus the not-doctor to be polite, I only needed him to be proficient.
‘Your friend is suffering from a surge,’ he said. I’d guessed as much. ‘A surge is when a magic wielder over-exerts themselves. Their body can’t cope with the power they’ve extended and it shuts down to try and protect itself. It’s often seen in young witches and druids who are still learning their limits, but they tend to recover quickly. It’s very unusual in older practitioners. Left untreated it can be fatal.’
His explanation was unnecessary but I appreciated the effort. ‘Can you treat him?’ I asked. ‘Will he be alright?’
Fergus didn’t seem to hear me as he leaned over Hightower again. Again he inhaled deeply and this time half-closed his eyes. Interesting. Whatever manner of magic Fergus possessed, he appeared capable of sniffing out medical conditions. That was a useful skill, and I wondered what on earth he was doing in this backwater, even if he wasn’t a fully qualified doctor.
‘A rigor spell,’ he whispered. He opened his eyes and turned to me. ‘Did this man try to use a rigor-mortis spell?’
‘Yeah.’
Fergus gave a low whistle. ‘Fool witch.’ He stepped towards me and sniffed again. ‘He used the spell on you, yet you’re still alive. It’s as much a miracle that you’re breathing as he is. Fascinating.’ He raised an index finger and prodded my cheek.
I held my temper. ‘I’m not the patient.’
He grinned. ‘No – but you should be dead. That spell would have killed most people within seconds. There aren’t many who can withstand its effects. A rigor mortis spell isn’t somethingthat slips out by accident, and I don’t know any witches who could cast that level of magic and walk away afterwards. He over-estimated his ability – and he also meant to kill you. Are you quite sure you want me to revive him?’
My expression didn’t alter though He Who Guards, who had come with us, hissed and arched his back. ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I’m sure. I need him alive and well.’ At least until I’d heard what he had to say for himself.
Fergus shrugged. ‘As you wish.’ He addressed the tabby cat. ‘You need to wait outside. Your aura isn’t helpful.’ He Who Guards glared malevolently but, to my astonishment, turned tail and left.
‘You have a way with cats,’ I murmured.
Fergus’s eyes twinkled. ‘Indeed. So do you.’
He knew what I was: he knew I was a cat sith. Whatever skills this man possessed, they extended further than I’d realised.
‘Don’t worry,’ he said. ‘Hippocratic oath. Your secret’s safe with me.’ Except I wasn’t his patient and he’d already told me he wasn’t a doctor.
My mouth tightened but it was a problem for another time. ‘Can you help him?’
‘Of course I can help him, though it will take a few hours. Leave him with me.’ He glanced at the clock on the wall. ‘Come back at one o’clock. He’ll be right as rain by then.’
I folded my arms. ‘I’d rather wait here.’
‘In case he runs away?’
‘I’m very concerned about Mr Hightower’s welfare.’
