"Ye-es... it's just," he says plaintively, "your species' magic has been so obnoxiously arranged in the time I have known it, I really want to apply the most elegant and precise solutions I possibly can in case there is yet another terrible thing no one has told me about lurking around the corner and it matters how well I design my miraculous interventions."
"Some time spent looking at precariously old dragons and muttering to myself," he says. "Less time if I have someone to talk to who is moderately well versed in the theory of why dragons die of old age the way they do. If you have a theory of that."
He trails off.
"Oh. Hmm. Oh. That's - hmm. I think I know how part of it works. All of you who are currently dragon-shaped, your magic is sort of - bumping together and swapping little bits. And your precariousness decreases a tiny bit whenever that happens. That isn't the thing I was wondering about at all, but it's very interesting to know."
"I'm pretty sure that's also how shren contagion worked, when it did," he adds. "But now it doesn't anymore. I wonder if it will be as easy to fix this as it was to fix that... I wonder..."
"...I have my elegant solution," Lazarus announces, "but I don't have enough miracle magic to apply it. That can probably be fixed, though. In the meantime, I expanded the range of swapping-little-bits-of-magic for a while, so everyone's precariousness will be minimized while I seek out bigger miracles. If you don't have anywhere else to put the nameless miracle girl, I'm sure Libby would be happy to talk to her and look after her for a bit. Libby is the coordinator of the miracle expedition."
Off he goes.
"Hello," she says. "Just a moment while Lazarus finishes explaining."
"There, I'm all caught up," she says. "Did you want something in particular?"
"Can you take the nameless miracle without coming here to fetch her?" inquires Piro.
"That shouldn't be much trouble," says Libby. "What does the nameless miracle think of it?"
Piro eyes the nameless miracle. "Hey, miracle girl. Want to go meet another person?"
"Yes!" says the nameless miracle happily.
"She's enthusiastic," Piro reports dryly.
"Good to hear," says Libby.
The nameless miracle vanishes from the council chamber.
And now that Lazarus has left the problem of procuring even bigger coins with Libby where it belongs, he can go round to all the addresses on this list and proclaim that he is a miracle distributor from another world here to distribute miracles.
"Hello I am a miracle distributor from another world!" says Lazarus. "Would you like a miracle?"
"You don't have to do anything! You are miracled!" says Lazarus. "...Who doesn't want a miracle?"
"Me! I don't want a miracle!" he says. "...Probably! It's the chance of accidentally infecting somebody else that has me wavering," he says, panting slightly as he reaches the door. "Hi, miracle worker. Hi, Finnah. Did he get you yet?"
"Oh. Well, I fixed that," says Lazarus. "Shrens aren't contagious anymore. As someone just demonstrated rather thoroughly by dumping a shren into the middle of a meeting of the dragon council. I hope they are very unpleasantly surprised by the total lack of infections, whoever they are. She was a hundred and sixty years old and she hadn't ever flown before. She needed magical help to figure out how to move and talk."