“How can he be so stubborn?” she fumed. “Not only did Mainard dismiss me, he says I cannot tell anyone about the demon that causes the wither-rot, or I will be reprimanded legally.” She jerked to face Weysh. “Is this true?” she demanded.

“Erm, I’m no barrister, but I believe there is some law against the spread of harmful information, yes. Mainard has something of a reputation for being self-important—I had him as an instructor myself for one of those mandatory first-year magic classes, but it’s not completely unfounded. He is a Magus Grande. He has clout, Yenni, and power.”

“Unbelievable! So many deaths could be prevented—your stepfather’s, for example! But this disease will continue to fester and grow within Cresh, all because of the idiocy of one man. So be it, but if our Yirba healers should find a way to destroy this evil spirit instead of merely shuffling it from host to host, I will make it known.”

She continued to pace, muttering to herself about how these closed-minded Creshens would be the cause of their own demise.

“You’re making my head spin, lovely,” Weysh said. “Come, sit with me.”

She settled in beside his warmth, and his rough fingers stroked the back of her neck. “Relax,” he said softly. “Listen to the rain.”

It sighed and pattered heavily against the chapelle’s roof, landing in musical droplets in puddles on the floor where the roof failed to shield. A black lizard, maybe the size of her hand, crawled almost shyly across the floor toward them, coming in fits and jerks. When it was about two strides away from Weysh it burst into flame.

“Ah!” cried Yenni, jerking away from it.

Weysh ran a comforting hand down her arm. “It’s only a salamander, sweet. Nothing to be afraid of. Sometimes they come out and ignite when it rains.”

“Oh, truly? Even though they are creatures of fire?”

“Consider it the wisdom of Byen—they ignite only in the presence of water. Imagine what would happen if salamanders were igniting all over dry fields in the heat of summer. I suppose the flames keep them warm in the rain or some such. If they get too close for comfort just use Yoben’s Rainfall to put them out and they’ll scamper away.”

Another eruption of flame caught her attention somewhere to her left. Then another, by the entrance. The creatures slowly made their way toward them, illuminating the chapelle like candles. One got close enough for Weysh to touch, and he ran his fingers through the flames sprouting from the creature’s back while Yenni gaped at him. “Does that not hurt?”

“Not if I concentrate,” he replied absently. “Then it simply feels warm. The perks of being a dragon,” he said, and winked.

“They like you, they know their own kind,” Yenni teased.

“Erm, Yenni, you should never call someone dragonkind a salamander. It’s considered very rude.”