Claire never saw Oliver hit him; she just inferred that it happened from the blur, and Myrnin’s head snapping back. He wiped blood from his mouth with the back of one hand, never looking away from Oliver, and said, “You said that she was holding her own. She just asked me to kill her.”

“She fights,” Oliver said. “And she fights it better without these ridiculous distractions. Take the girl and get out. You risked yourself, and her, for nothing. I thought you liked the child better than that.”

“I like both of them better than that. But I came for a reason, and the reason still holds.”

“Your curiosity is an addiction that will kill you one of these days. I’m not Amelie. I’ll not put up with your whims. Consider this fair warning, Myrnin: when I tell you to stay away, stay away, and keep your pets on leashes.”

Myrnin looked past him at Claire. “Are you all right?” He still seemed shaken, but he was pulling himself together fast. He stood up and helped her rise as well. She didn’t think she was all right, exactly, but she nodded anyway. Bruises, for sure, but nothing broken. Her hand was the worst of it, and the towel Oliver had thrown at her was soaking up the blood. “Oliver. We still need those keys.”

“Keys?” Oliver interrupted, and barked out a laugh. “Keys to what?”

“The Founder’s transport car. The armored one. I require them,” Myrnin said.

“Be off with you. I don’t have them.”

“No, the Founder has them.” Myrnin stressed the noun a bit more than necessary, and it seemed to make Oliver angrier still, if that was even possible. “And the Founder will give them to me, if she’s still herself at all. She knows that I wouldn’t ask for no reason.”

“Myrnin.” Amelie’s quiet, gray voice hardly broke the surface of the silence, but both of them turned toward her instantly. There was a flash of something in Oliver’s face, something like—fear, Claire thought. It was gone too fast for her to be certain.

“I am sorry, but I cannot control this,” Amelie said. “It’s best that you leave now. All of you. Leave me to this. I fight it as I can.” Her eyes slowly closed, then opened again. “Keys. Keys are in the black box in my desk. Take them.” It hurt her to do whatever she was doing—even Claire could see it—but she even smiled, just a little, through the pain. “I don’t want to hurt my friends. Oliver has been trying to protect you, you should know that.”

“Oh, my dear,” Myrnin said, and blinked back tears. “Amelie, hold. You must hold. I’ll be back and we will find a way to stop this.”

“No,” she said. “Don’t come back. Never come back, Myrnin. Or I’ll have you.” She suddenly looked toward Claire, and the impact of it made Claire take in a sharp, painful breath. “I’ll remember the taste of you. Don’t let me get so close again.”