Page 9 of A Skirl of Sorcery (The Cat Lady Chronicles #3)

Chapter

Eight

My heart rate eventually returned to a normal steady beat and my thoughts coalesced into a more rational form, but I didn’t fully calm down until several minutes after I’d choked up the hairball and transformed into the two-legged version of myself.

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. ‘Absolutely not for 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 am not feeling 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.

‘Friend?’ Muriel shrieked. ‘You’re friends with one of those … things?’

‘She’s a person. She’s not a thing.’

‘She brings death!’

‘No, she doesn’t.’

‘She’s a fucking ban sith! That’s what they do! She can’t stay here! We all have a responsibility to keep this neighbourhood safe!’

‘Ban siths predict death, they don’t bring it,’ I said. ‘In fact, that’s why she’s here. I asked her to stay for a few weeks to ensure that everyone is safe.’

‘What?’ Arthur Dinsbury was baffled – and very, very loud.

I waved my arms expansively and hoped that the Dinsburys were too irate to notice my outlandish lie. ‘I love this neighbourhood. I want to be sure that everyone is fit, healthy and nowhere near death’s door. Having a ban sith around is the best way to guarantee everyone’s safety.’

Muriel’s face scrunched up. ‘That makes no sense! She’ll kill us all!’

‘She’s in my house so if anyone is likely to die, it’ll be me. But I won’t die because Keres told me that there’s no death anywhere near me and there never has been. I am a death-free zone.’

That was a bald-faced lie and if the Dinsburys hadn’t been so full of self-righteousness, they’d have realised it. I warmed to my topic. ‘In fact, Keres has told me that nobody on this street is in any danger of dying – not me, not you, not anyone.’

The couple stared at me. If anyone did pass away in the next few weeks, I’d be screwed so I mentally crossed my fingers that all my neighbours would remain hale and hearty.

I produced an earnest smile. ‘I was concerned about all those recent burglaries. I thought the thief might end up hurting someone, so I asked Keres to check and make sure that nobody was in mortal danger. I thought having her stay around would be a good idea because it’ll keep that burglar away.

’ I blinked a few times and silently congratulated myself on my quick thinking, though that damned thieving trow had better stay away or there would be a lot of explaining to do.

Arthur nudged his wife. ‘That makes sense,’ he muttered.

Muriel wasn’t so sure. ‘How long is she staying?’ she barked.

Good question. ‘Until the danger has passed,’ I replied smoothly.

Her eyes narrowed. ‘There are other ways to keep Danksville safe. A ban sith is extreme.’

‘You know that Jimmy Leighton was targeted the other night?’ I said.

‘I heard that,’ Arthur said.

His wife’s expression turned mutinous. ‘If anybody on this street dies…’

‘They won’t,’ I replied. They’d better not.

‘She can’t stay for long.’

Keres was in no state to harm me, so as far as I was concerned she could stay as long as she wanted to – although given her current condition that might not be long at all.

‘She’s here as a favour to me and to Danksville,’ I said.

‘She’s not here to harm us. Once she’s confident we’re all safe, I’m sure she’ll leave. ’

‘She’d better!’ Muriel grabbed her husband’s hand and they marched back in the direction of their own house. I exhaled. That could have gone worse.

‘Was any of that true?’ Dave called from his porch. I glanced over my shoulder at him. ‘You know that Sitwell on the corner is ninety-six years old?’

‘I’m aware,’ I replied.

‘And that Alicia Timmings at number forty-eight has stage three cancer?’

‘I know that, too.’

‘All hell will break loose if either of them croak while Keres is here.’

‘I took a calculated risk. Given enough time, everyone will realise that there’s no reason to be afraid of a ban sith living in this street.’

‘Hmm.’ He scratched the whiskers on his chin and looked at me dubiously. ‘People like the Dinsburys have deep-seated beliefs. It will take more than time to change their minds. Obviously I don’t mind her staying with you, but it might be better for her if she didn’t stay too long.’

Easier said than done; at the moment Keres couldn’t leave even if she wanted to. ‘She’s not well,’ I told him. ‘I don’t know what’s wrong. I need to get a doctor to come and see her. She’s unconscious, Dave – I think she’s very sick.’

He stiffened. ‘She’s ill?’

‘Really ill.’

Dave straightened his shoulders. ‘I’ll sit with her until you get back.’

It was what I’d hoped he’d say. ‘You’re sure?’

‘Of course I’m sure,’ he snapped. ‘But if I catch a nasty disease and die, you’ll be the one who has to deal with the fall-out,’ he added, with a deep scowl.

He Who Crunches Bird Bones hissed but Dave only shrugged at him. ‘I’m telling the truth. Which is more than she did to the damned Dinsburys.’

True. But as long as nobody died in the near future, it would be fine. I hoped.