But that wasn't the real problem. The real problem was that witches weren't veterinarians. They just weren't.
She could choose to specialize in gems or herbs or ritual clothing; in chants or runes or research or amulets... in hundreds of things, but nothing taught at U.C. Davis.
"It's hard to explain," Thea said. She didn't have much room left to be surprised, or she'd have been surprised to find she wanted to explain to a human. "It's just-my family wouldn't really approve. They want me to be something else."
Eric opened his mouth, then shut it again.
The puppy sneezed.
"Well-maybe you could help me with my application sometime," Eric said at last. "I'm trying to do the essay question and dying."
You sneak, Thea thought.
"Maybe," she said.
At that moment a buzzer sounded-far away but insistent. Bud barked.
"What the... that's the outside buzzer," Eric said. "But nobody should be here at this time of night." He got up and headed for the front of the building. Thea followed, her fingertips just brushing Bud's head to control him.
Eric opened the door, then stepped back in surprise.
"Rosamund... what are you doing here? Does Mom know you're out?"
Something like a miniature whirlwind entered the waiting room. It was a kid, a little girl with a mop of sandy hair sticking out from under a baseball cap. She was carrying a rolled-up blue blanket, and what could be seen of her expression under the hair was ferocious.
"Mom said Madame Curie wasn't really sick, but she is. Call Dr. Joan." With that, the kid marched into the office and dumped the blue blanket on the counter, pushing aside a clipboard and some vaccination reminder cards.
"Hey. Don't." When she ignored him, Eric looked at Thea. "Uh, this is my sister Rosamund. And I don't know how she got here-"
"I rode my bike and I want Madame Curie fixed now."
Bud was rearing up and trying to sniff the blue blanket. Thea pushed him down gently. "Who's Madame Curie?"
"Madame Curie is a guinea pig," Eric said. He touched the blanket. "Roz-Dr. Joan is gone. She's out of town at a conference."
Rosamund's ferocious expression never wavered, but her chin began to quiver.
"Okay, listen. I'll take a look at Madame Curie now, see if I can see anything. But first we have to call Mom and let her know you're alive." He reached for the phone.
"I'll take Bud back," Thea said. "I think he thinks Madame Curie is lunch." She led the puppy into the back room and coaxed him into the run with a promise of extra petting later.
When she came back to the office, Eric was bent over a small brown-and-white guinea pig. He looked frustrated.
"Well, there's something wrong with her-I guess.
She seems weaker than usual and sort of lethargic___"
Suddenly he jerked his hand back with a yelp.
"Not too lethargic," he said, eyeing the blood welling up from his thumb. He wiped it on a tissue and bent over the guinea pig again.
"She's in a bad mood," Rosamund said. "And she's not eating right. I told you yesterday she was sick."
"No, you didn't," Eric said calmly. "You told me she was tired of living under patriarchy."
"Well, she is tired. And she's sick. Do something."
"Kid, I don't know what to do yet. Hang on." He bent closer to the little animal, muttering to himself. "She's not coughing... so it's not strep. Her lymph nodes are okay... but her joints seem swollen. Now, that's weird."
Rosamund was watching him, her green eyes full of fierce trust. Eyes like Eric's, Thea realized.
She reached out gently and just touched the guinea pig's soft fur with her fingers. Her mind reached gently, too.
Frightened-little-animal thoughts. The guinea pig didn't like being here, wanted the sawdust of her cage, wanted safety. She didn't like the clinical
smells, didn't like huge, strange fingers descending from the sky.
Home-place, nest-place, she was thinking. And then, something odd. A concept-more smell and taste than picture. Madame Curie was imagining eating something... something crunchy and slightly sharp. Eating and eating and eating.
"Is there some treat she really likes?" Thea asked doubtfully. "Something like cabbage?"
Eric blinked, then straightened up as if he'd gotten an electric shock. His green eyes stared straight into hers. "That's it! You're brilliant!" "What's it?"
"What you said. She's got scurvy!" He dashed out of the office and came back with a thick book full of small print. "Yeah-here it is. Anorexia, lethargy, enlarged limb joints... she's got all the symptoms." He turned pages feverishly and then said triumphantly, "All we have to do is give her some of those veggies, or maybe some ascorbic acid in her water." Scurvy-wasn't that a disease sailors used to get? When they were on long trips with no fresh fruits or vegetables? And ascorbic acid was... "Vitamin C!" "Yeah! It's been hot and we've got hard water at our house-all that could deplete the vitamin C in her diet. But it's easy to fix." Then Eric looked at Thea and shook his head wonderingly. "I've been studying for years, besides working here, and you just look at the animal and you know. How do you do that?"
"She asked Madame Curie," Rosamund said flatly. Thea gave her a wary glance. How come this whole family was so observant? "Ha ha," she said, her voice light.
"I like you," Rosamund said, just as flatly as before. "Now where can I get some cabbage?"
"Go look in the vaccine fridge in back," Eric said. "If there isn't any, we can always use vitamin drops."