The next afternoon found the four of them in Sheldrake’s beloved shed. Yarrow was prowling along the benches, scowling at various half-made concoctions, peering at bottles of completed mixtures and running her hands over a scattering of herbs that Sheldrake had left lying about. She strolled over to one of his bookshelves and ran one long red nail along the spines of worn, dusty, little leather books, then flicked her fingernail clean with her thumb. Completely aware of their scrutiny, she finally swirled and looked at them.
“So, Sheldrake,” she said condescendingly, “You do indeed have some knowledge of tinctures and remedies. Are you able to heal using only your hands?”
Jayhan could see that it was taking Sheldrake some effort to keep his temper. “No. I wish I could. Tinctures and band
