Despite his gruff tone, his eyes sparkled like stars in the night sky. “It’s all that bahtzen-bizzle wizard claptrap! Don’t writers understand how much harm is caused by spreading misinformation? And yet when I try to explain it to them, they twist it around, dress it up, and add concoctions of their own imaginings. All they have done is make a murky mess. Filled young minds with visions of fancy spells and trickery. But there are no shortcuts when it comes to true wand-bearing, and no sleight of hand when it comes to the natural world.”

Coralis pushed himself up from the comfort of his chair, which promptly snorted in relief. “Oh, hush up, you old cow, or I won’t rub you down later.”

The chair sighed an apology. After all, there was nothing that the old buffalo chair looked forward to more than her weekly massage.

Coralis turned around just in time. “Willoughby! Get down!”

Gretchen spun around and ducked as a sneaky vine with teeth took a swipe at her, grazing her left ear. Another of his former apprentice’s experiments gone awry. Not wanting to appear flustered, she leaped up and stepped over to the buffalo chair, which promptly fluffed at her, sending up a rather noxious plume.

“Still want to clean up in here?” Coralis smirked.

“It would appear the room can fend for itself.” She looked around cautiously before choosing to lean against the weathered wooden workbench. A jar of very large orange-red Kinabalu leeches from Borneo squirmed at her approach, but the lid appeared to be tightly secured. The occupants of the jar reminded her why she was there. “What of this young Leach boy? The name is familiar, I think.”

Coralis frowned as he paced back and forth, stopping to stare at the ceiling—or something beyond. “Yes. Henry Leach.” He slowly ambled to the far wall, where a bundle of wooden poles with curious markings stuck out from an old clay urn. They rattled upon his approach. “Now then, settle down.” His voice was tender, as if he were addressing a pet dog.

He selected a bluish-black pole with narrow white crossbands that immediately went limp and wrapped itself around Coralis’s right arm. It was a snake, Gretchen saw now. Stroking its head and whispering in soft tones, Coralis returned to his chair.

“Gretchen, I’d like you to meet Sallie.” The serpent flicked its tongue in her direction.

“Nice to meet you, too,” she said, squirming slightly under Sallie’s reptilian gaze. Gretchen had a very easy way with animals, but was always leery of reptiles. It was her experience that they had a tendency toward unpredictability. “Is Sallie a … former apprentice?”