Page 19 of A Skirl of Sorcery
Something was attacking Keres from within. It wasn’t the ban sith herself that the cats were afraid of, it was whatever was inside her that had put the fear of God into them. It was some sort of parasitic evil, but whether it had been placed there by a curse or whether it was a contagious magical virus, I didn’t know. Whatever, it was definitely the reason my cats were terrified of her – and it might also be the reason she’d lost her ban sith powers.
Had Mallory been aware of what was happening to Keres? I doubted it. Skilled as Mallory was, she was a squib and didn’t possess any magical power of her own. If Keres had looked ill, Mallory would have put it down to a bug.
At that moment, my concern wasn’t where the black weed inside Keres had come from but how to stop it because I felt certain that she would be dead by the end of the week if it remained unchecked.
Tension clawed at me. I suddenly wished that Thane was with me and I wasn’t dealing with this on my own, but he was out for the count and turning furry. He wouldn’t be capable of much other than monosyllabic grunts and shuffling footsteps until late tomorrow morning. Werewolves were nothing if not predictable in their transformations.
You’ve dealt with worse than this, Kit, I told myself sternly. You’ve always coped on your own before and you can cope on your own now. An invisible enemy was harder to fight, but I wasn’t powerless. There would be a solution.
I glanced down at the assembly of cats. ‘We need a doctor.’ She Without An Ear miaowed. ‘No.’ I rolled my eyes. ‘Absolutelynotfor euthanasia.’
She Who Loves Sunbeams flicked her ears and blinked. ‘No,’ I told her. ‘Not that sort of doctor either. We need the sort of doctor who…’ My voice trailed away and then I smiled. ‘We need the sort of doctor who isn’t a doctor.’
I grinned and sprang up: I knew exactly who could help Keres. I grabbed my bag and headed straight for the door.
She Without An Ear and He Who Crunches Bird Bones came with me, determined to wait outside until I returned so they could protect the house from the monster upstairs. Whether she was unconscious or not, they wouldn’t take any chances with Keres and nothing I could say would appease them.
The sky was darkening as I reached my garden gate and stepped onto the street but I could still see Mr and Mrs Dinsbury marching towards me. No prizes for guessing what they wanted, but at least they weren’t carrying pitchforks. Not yet, anyway.
The unhappy couple strode towards me, their expressions set and their shoulders pulled back; they wanted me to know that they meant business. My gaze travelled down as I assessed them for weapons but their hands were empty, although Arthur Dinsbury had curled his fingers into tight fists.
His wife had a slight bulge by her right hip, suggesting there was something in her pocket, but it wasn’t gun or knife shaped. It was probably nothing more than a crumpled bag of mint humbugs – I’d seen Mrs Dinsbury sucking them on many occasions after she’d weaned herself off betel nuts. I supposed that mint humbugs were a healthier replacement.
Despite their lack of obvious weaponry, I wasn’t daft enough to let my guard down. This was Coldstream; plenty of inhabitants didn’t need a sharp object to cause bloody havoc. Then I ran through what they might say and how I should best respond.
From the garden, She Without An Ear growled, sensing the impending confrontation. ‘It’s fine,’ I murmured. She sent me a narrow-eyed glance to emphasise her belief in my absolute stupidity but at least she stopped growling.
He Who Crunches Bird Bones quivered then jumped onto the low wall that marked the boundary of my property. ‘Sheathe those claws,’ I told him. Naturally, he ignored me.
Mrs Dinsbury – Muriel to her friends, of whom I was not one – cleared her throat. ‘Ms McCafferty.’ Her voice was thin and reedy but she still managed to convey an air of command.
I smiled. I didn’t want to waste a lot of time on this pair. Polite but firm was the way to win the day. ‘Good evening.’ I side-stepped, turned my back on them and moved towards Dave’s gate. Perhaps I’d get lucky and they’d walk away.
‘We want to talk to you!’ she called after me.
Damn it. ‘I’m afraid I’m very busy,’ I replied.
Dave was peering out of his window and I held up two fingers. I needed to talk to him but the confrontation with the Dinsburys would be easier without his interference. He scowled but nodded; he was a better neighbour than I deserved.
‘This will only take a minute,’ Arthur Dinsbury said, deepening his voice in a bid to sound like a tough guy.
I sighed and turned to face them. Although their timing sucked, this might be a good thing because a confrontation would be easier to handle than a long-drawn-out campaign of neighbourly passive aggression. ‘Go on.’ I smiled again, to show that I was still the friendly harmless neighbour with too many cats and too little in the way of protection.
Unfortunately, He Who Crunches Bird Bones compromised my attempt to establish a peaceful tone by snapping out a paw towards Arthur Dinsbury. It was only a warning shot but Arthur jumped backwards and gave an inarticulate yell. This wasn’t going as well as I’d hoped and we’d not even got to the crux of the matter yet.
Muriel Dinsbury’s eyes spat hatred. ‘You’ve been living on this street long enough to know what’s expected of you, Ms McCafferty.’
‘Did I miss the last bin collection day?’ I asked sweetly. ‘Maggie the wirry cow still comes on Fridays, doesn’t she? I don’t think I put my bins out late.’
Arthur bared his teeth. ‘This isn’t about the bins,’ he spat.
‘Oh good!’ I beamed relief. ‘I’d hate to leave rubbish lying out on the street. Nobody wants to attract rats, especially when the rats attract bigger creatures that cause all sorts of problems.’ My tone was innocent but I was well aware that the Dinsburys had received several complaints from other households about leaving their bins out at the wrong times.
Muriel clearly wasn’t in the mood for prevarication or implied criticism. She put her hands on her hips and snarled, a surprisingly impressive sound from such a small woman. I flinched and looked alarmed. ‘Goodness, are you feeling alright? That sounded nasty.’
Her cheeks turned scarlet. ‘I amnotfeeling alright!’ She jabbed a finger in the direction of the upstairs flat. ‘You have a ban sith in there!’
There was no point in denying it or explaining that Keres had lost her ban-sith powers. Even if they believed me, they would only distrust her more. ‘I do,’ I said calmly. ‘Keres is a good friend of mine.’ I didn’t think she’d mind that lie.
