"Have you seen any side effects?"

"No."

"How have you been checking?"

"Nobody has reported any side effects, either at the time or afterward. I suppose someone might have had a side effect they didn't notice, or didn't want to tell me about. That's one of the reasons I want Dr. James to continue the research, she might be able to detect things that I and a patient would both miss."

"What's your understanding of liability as applied to magic effects?"

"I'm not familiar with any major differences between liability for magic effects and for anything else. I had people sign waivers saying that they understood it was experimental and they were trying it at their own risk."

"It's different mostly in enforcement. How did you draw up the waivers?"

"I got generic ones off the internet and changed them to be about experimental magic. I have one in my notes if you want to see it."

"For our records," agrees a different councilmember.

She passes them a blank one.

They pass it down the line, each skimming it, and then it gets tucked into a folder. "Can you think of any risks that might apply to people testing your rock?"

"The most likely risk, and I haven't ever seen it happen, is that the spell might interpret something as a health problem that the person testing it would prefer not to have healed. For example, someone with recent ear piercings who wasn't wearing earrings at the time might have their piercing holes heal closed."

"Have you tried healing anyone with a piercing?"

"I didn't write down whether anybody had piercings,  that's just an example I came up with just now, but I have their email addresses, I can ask them if you like."

"If you don't get through to them via e-mail do you have another followup method?"

"I didn't collect phone numbers, but many of them live in the Avalon, I could probably look them up if I really needed to talk to them and they weren't answering email."

"Let's revisit this question after you've followed up with all your previous subjects. Send us a note when you've gotten the information."

She pulls out a pencil. "Can you repeat exactly what information you want me to collect, so I make sure I get it all?"

They come up with a bunch of things they want to know, including an open-ended "have you noticed anything that might be a side effect of the spell".

She dutifully writes down all their questions; she can compile them into a proper survey later.

"You can make another appointment when that's handled," says the centaur.

"I will." And she'll stick around to listen to the rest of the meeting before heading home.

A bunch of people trickle in for the open session about repaving Myrtle St and bicker about whether it should be repaved, when, how, by whom, at what price point, and with what lane markings.

Pretty interesting, despite her lack of skin in the game. She takes down her lamppost ads on the way out of the Avalon; by Thursday afternoon she has the council's questions converted to survey form. She sends them out to all the critters she treated and relatives thereof, depending on whose email she has, with a preface explaining that she's looking to scale up trials in the Avalon and the Council wants to know how it's been going so far, and that their results will only be reported in the aggregate if she has any say in the matter.

Some but not all of these people reply to her promptly.