The Priory of the Orange Tree (The Roots of Chaos, #1)

by Samantha Shannon

All he could see was the nest of lights that was Perunta. A place that might be crawling with Draconic plague. The sickness had first oozed from the Nameless One, whose breath, it was said, had been a slow-acting poison. A more fearsome strain had arrived with the five High Westerns. They and their wyverns carried it, the same way rats had once carried the pestilence. It had existed only in pockets since the end of the Grief of Ages, but Loth knew the signs from books. It began with the reddening of the hands. Then a scale-like rash. As it tiptoed over the body, the afflicted would experience pain in the joints, fever and visions. If they were unlucky enough to survive this stage, the bloodblaze set in. They were at their most dangerous then, for if not restrained, they would run about screaming as if they were on fire, and anyone whose skin touched theirs would also be afflicted. Usually they died within days, though some had been known to survive longer. There was no cure for the plague. No cure and no protection.

Worldbuilding