“I have said no such thing!” Mainard blustered, suddenly and inexplicably agitated. “The only conclusive and peer-reviewed information I have given you about this disease is that spellcraft quickens the patient’s deterioration. That is all.”

So the best treatment for the disease was to avoid pulling ach’e, but the healers back home were doing exactly the opposite, having her father draw on purification runes every day to remove the toxins from his body. She would need to write home with these new insights right away. Yenni exhaled, feeling her chest release as she expelled all the tension of the last few days.

“I see. Thank you, Professor.”

Professor Mainard waved a dismissive hand. “I doubt we’re dealing with the wither-rot in your case—I can’t imagine your papa has much affinity for spellcraft. But you’ve come to the right place. With a superior base of medicinal and magical knowledge to draw on, I’m sure your papa will be well in no time.”

And just like that, she wanted to throw something at him again. Not least of all because she couldn’t argue. She had come to Cresh for a solution that hadn’t yet been found back home. Still, that pitying smile, that condescending tone, the pleasure she knew he took in helping the little Island savage save her father—it was enough to make her want to scream. But for her father, and only for her father, she hung her head to hide her disgust, knowing Professor Mainard would see in the gesture grief and gratitude.

“I’m off,” he said. “I’ll give your account to my Head of Healers and have an official diagnosis for you as soon as possible.”

Yenni simply nodded, unable to suspend her dignity long enough to thank him, and wondering what she had done to that trickster Father Esh to deserve this.

Once she was cleared to leave the infirmary Yenni rushed back to her residence, took out some paper and a Creshen pencil, and immediately wrote home about what she had learned from Professor Mainard, urging her mother to write back as soon as she could.

Such a strange disease. Whoever heard of ach’e, the divine energy of the Sha, causing sickness? But perhaps that was why they hadn’t been able to find a cure. The idea that ach’e might be the source, well, it was beyond belief to her, and it would certainly be the same for the healers back home. Still, she would send her letter. The rest would fall to her mother, her older brother, and her charming, charming sisters. It would be up to them not only to bring the concept to the attention of the healers, but to convince them the cure had been their idea to begin with.