“Oh,” Yenni said, feeling herself deflate.

“Why do you ask?”

Yenni paused. Finally, here was her chance to glean more information about this wither-rot disease, straight from the head of the magical department at the most prestigious magical school in Cresh. A man who by his own admission was versed in the latest advances in Creshen magic, including healing magic. But he would undoubtedly want to know why she was so interested. Dare she trust him?

Dare she not trust him? Yenni was desperate, having already spent two moonturns in Cresh and learning only the barest details regarding the wither-rot from Carmenna. And the rune on her palm was a sobering reminder that time was running out.

“Professor Mainard,” she said softly. “Do you know the reason I came to study magic at Prevan?”

“Because it’s the best school on the continent, of course.”

A chuckle bubbled its way to the surface of Yenni’s despair at how self-assured he was. “Yes,” she admitted. “I’d heard Prevan was the best. And I need the best, because there is a sickness that has recently appeared on my Island. The symptoms are the same as what you have named the wither-rot. I need to find a way to cure it because my father is dying.” She swallowed against the admission.

Mainard stayed quiet for a long time, his wrinkled brow more wrinkled than usual. “What is the nature of this illness?” he said finally. Yenni explained her father’s symptoms—the way his muscles would suddenly give out and his constant pain.

“I confess, I am not a healing professional but yes, that does sound like the wither-rot.”

“What can you tell me about this disease, Professor? Please, anything you know will help.”

Mainard clucked his tongue. “I can appreciate how difficult this must be for you. After all, the medicine of the Islands is not quite up to the task of such a debilitating disease, hmm?”

“This is a sickness we have never seen before. Our healers are doing their best,” said Yenni, sharper than perhaps was wise. She bit back her retort that Creshen healers seemed to be just as clueless about the disease as anyone.

“Yes, well, the wither-rot is just as terrible as it sounds. It involves the cannibalization of the body’s muscular system by its own magical energy system.”

“But what causes it? Where did it come from? How can it be treated?”

“The cause of the disease remains elusive,” he said grudgingly. “There is no consensus on where it originated, merely half-cooked theories it would be irresponsible of me to disseminate. All I will tell you for certain is that it seems to be triggered by excessive spellcraft, and further exacerbated by too much casting, and we’ve only recently been able to confirm this.”

Yenni frowned, confused. “So this is a disease that enters the body through ach—through source energy?”