Daryll had been closest at that moment. While the healers pulled back the father, helped Ysaryn, or made sure the other patients were safe, Daryll had grabbed the boy, pulling him with clumsy arms off the bed. With several hands working to put out the fire, they made short work of it. Kire and Daryll bent over the boy, looking him over. His clothes looked signed, but he seemed unharmed. He was shaking. 
“[i]What happened?[/i]” Narda barked in Taakalon.
“Kire, there wasn’t a fire anywhere inside the tent,” Daryll said. “Lad, are you alright?”
The boy kept staring at his hands. “I dunno,” he said, his eyes wide, “I didn’t mean to! I dunno— 
Kire smelled it again before she saw it. [i]Pine needles burning.[/i] She almost missed the sight of it, but caught it in a blink—the boy’s hands sparking, even as Daryll held them. “Daryll, let go!” she yelled, just as the sparks blossomed into flame. She grabbed them both, disappeared in a blue flash, and in another blink returned. All three of them were soaking wet, though Daryll and Kire both sported singed sleeves. “Fetch a towel please,” she said, bending down to gently hold the boy’s hands. The boy looked about ready to faint from the shock of the portal, the flames, and suddenly finding himself in cold water. 

“I’m sorry, that must have been very frightening,” she apologized. She had portalled all three of them in the first shallow body of water she could think of, a river not too far from their current location. She explained as much to the father and the healers as she turned over the boy to them. “Daryll, you okay?”
“Yeah. No burns except on my clothes.” 
“And the other patients?”
For now, it seemed it only happened to the boy. Kire crossed her arms around herself until someone gave her and Daryll a blanket each to wrap around themselves. 
“Holy fuck,” Myka muttered; everything happened before she could move from her spot. Narda was speechless; certainly, this didn’t help her attitude towards magic. “Holy fuck,” Myka repeated, though she lowered her voice even more. “That—is that going to happen to all the townsfolk?”

Kire rubbed her face with her hand. “I don’t know. But that explains the signature I got from him earlier.” She looked up suddenly, eyes wide in fear. “Etta!” The blanket fell to the ground as Kire disappeared again before anyone could react. She was gone longer this time, several minutes, before she appeared again in a flash. “She’s alright. Thank the gods. Whatever Etta has is probably different from what’s going on here.” Kire pulled wet strands of hair away from her face.