Pheola opened her eyes and led us out into the corridor. "The smaller bump is gone," she said. "The other one feels very soft. It sort of sways every time his heart beats."
"Absolute quiet," was Doc Swartz's answer. "There's a chance that clot will dwindle, erode, and harden up. But obviously we want to keep him as quiet as possible to make that take place."
"You had better know," I said quietly. "Pheola predicts it will break loose in a couple days and kill him."
"How accurate is she?" he said, looking sideways at where my witch stood crying.
"We'll get some ideas on that yet today," I told him. "Evaleen Riley, another one of our PC's, doesn't agree on the death part, and she's pretty good."
I turned to Pheola. "We had better go over to see Norty Baskins," I told her. "We have to know if you're right or not."
"I'm right," she said, wiping her eyes.
Norty was ready for us. "Well," he said, as we came in, "Lefty was right about you, Pheola. He said you were a rare one, and so you are."
"I was right, wasn't I?" she said, beginning to feel good and bad at the same time.