This triggered some reaction, because Enola was suddenly spasmodic. At first silently so, then very not silent, making strange, natural-sounding garbling noises that were half-dolphin, half–dying goat, more like the Genome than any noise Cora had ever heard come from a true post-natural amygdaline. It was horrid, piercing, and echoed into the hills. Someone was going to hear this.

Ampersand tried to stop the bleating, but that only seemed to stop his airflow, and clapping one’s hand over the speaking-holes of an amygdaline was lethal in a way that it was not to a human. Then, a protrusion grew out of Ampersand’s fingers, something bigger and sharper than the syringe she’d seen him use so many times, and he stabbed—literally, stabbed—the thing straight into the back of Enola’s neck.

That quieted him down.

For several minutes, Ampersand wrestled with the pitiful Enola, binding his forelimbs behind him and strapping his hind limbs under him. When Ampersand had Enola restrained to a point where he couldn’t easily escape, he turned his attention to Murderguy like he was about to skewer the man. Murderguy’s nostril’s flared in terror, and he stumbled backward, falling down against a tree.

“Wait!” said Cora, moving between the two of them.

“He cannot be allowed to remember this.”

“He recognized me.”

Ampersand took a moment to consider this. “You cannot question him here.”

Which meant they had a hostage. Great, another skill to add to the résumé. “Hands up. Keep your mouth shut,” she said, shining her flashlight right into his face.

He raised his arms above his head, his expression compliant, but calculating. She moved away from Murderguy, gesturing for Ampersand to follow. When she was out of earshot, she whispered, “Obelus ran away.”

It was obvious he assumed she had attacked Obelus, and she clarified, “I didn’t . . . I didn’t hurt him, I swear. I came back to get the pill bug to revive you, and when he saw me, he seemed to recognize me. I tried to use the pulse emitter on him, but . . . he seems to be able to manipulate electromagnetic fields.” This last part she added with a hint of accusation. Non-Similar amygdalines weren’t supposed to have any telekinetic capabilities like Ampersand did. Their bodies weren’t designed for it. And yet Obelus had it. Meaning Ampersand had put it there.

“Recognized you,” he repeated.

“I think whatever you were using to suppress his memories . . . failed.”

Ampersand digested this inasmuch as a being without a digestive system can digest things. He took a moment to take stock of Enola, still mewling, still pitiful, and still horrible.

“What are we going to do?” It was as it came out of her mouth that she realized she had circled back to thinking of the two of them as a “we.”