Page 23 of A Skirl of Sorcery
He snorted again. ‘Nobody can read minds but anyone can read facial expressions and concealed cues. Some people can see auras or recognise emotions, and there are a few like me who can sense illness. But nobody can actually read another living being’s mind.’
‘Are you sure?’ I pressed.
His derisive expression melted away as he glanced at me. ‘No,’ he said. ‘I can never be completely sure. But I’mmostlysure.’
I thought about Trilby. It might have been a coincidence that the enigmatic black-market seller had voiced the same words that had passed through my head only moments before. I’d known Trilby for some time; if they could read my mind, I was certain it was a new development.
‘There are many skilled con artists living in Coldstream,’ Fergus said. ‘You don’t strike me as someone who is easily fooled, but nobody is immune. Sometimes it’s the more educated and experienced people who are susceptible to scammers.’
I was well aware that self-confidence and the belief that you weren’t a typical fraud victim could make you fall into a con-artist’s trap, but I didn’t believe that Trilby was a scammer. Not for a second. All the same, my new wariness of them wouldn’t dissipate any time soon.
‘I’m careful,’ I said aloud.
Fergus nodded. ‘You should be.’
I looked again at the dryad and then at Fergus. At least I was certain of one thing: he was definitely the right person to help Keres.
Chapter
Ten
Icould feel my neighbours glaring at me from behind their net curtains as we completed the last of our journey on foot. It was late spring; the sun was still shining and the air was warm; at this time in the evening there would usually be people outside. In Scotland, you have to make the most of the good weather while you can, but every front garden was empty and nobody was in the cobbled street. It bothered me that they were afraid to step outside their houses but, to be honest, my neighbours’ concerns were far less worrying than Keres’ condition.
She Without An Ear greeted us, miaowing from her position on top of a wall before we reached my garden gate. I saw Fergus flinch out of the corner of my eye. ‘Not a cat fan?’ I asked in a deceptively casual tone.
‘I won’t admit to a preference for dogs when I’m in the company of a cat sith,’ Fergus said, reminding me that his abilities extended to more than sensing illness.
‘I like dogs,’ I said. She Without An Ear miaowed plaintively. ‘But,’ I added quickly, ‘I like cats more.’ The grumpy moggy relaxed. ‘You know that cats can sense when someone is ill,’ I told him.
‘Sure. But can they do anything about that illness?’
Not really.
Fergus examined my face and nodded. ‘In that case, I win.’ I wasn’t going to argue with him – not until he’d helped Keres.
I directed him to the flight of stairs that led to the upper flat. Fergus knocked lightly on the front door and entered while I followed on his heels. Dave immediately appeared and glared at us. ‘This is Fergus,’ I said quickly. ‘He has considerable medical skills. I think he can help Keres.’
Dave’s expression didn’t soften. ‘She’s not doing well. She’s running a high temperature and she seems to be delirious.’
Fergus nodded and hefted his bag. ‘She’s in there?’ He pointed to the bedroom.
Dave didn’t answer him; instead he looked at me. ‘He doesn’t look like a doctor.’
‘That’s because I’m not a doctor,’ Fergus responded. He pushed past the druid. ‘Word of advice,’ he said cheerfully. ‘Cut down on sugar. You’re about three months away from a diagnosis of diabetes.’
Dave went pale. ‘Druids are susceptible to diabetes,’ he muttered. ‘Everyone knows that.’
‘Perhaps,’ I said gently, ‘that’s a good reason to eat less sweet stuff.’
‘Says the pizza lady.’
Fergus called, ‘Youshould cut down on that, too.’ My face fell. More salad for dinner, then.
He strode into the bedroom and I followed while Dave hovered by the door, his suspicious eyes watching Fergus’s every move. It was clear that Keres had deteriorated, despite the minor herbal concoction I’d poured down her throat. Her skin was flushed and her limbs were twitching. Her pale lips were moving, whispering feverish words that made little sense.
‘Is she—?’ I began.
‘Hush,’ Fergus ordered. I fell silent; the best thing I could do was keep out of his way.
