He stopped moving, but he didn't raise his head. "I don't want another student. " He sounded resentful.
"Nevertheless, you must have one. "
"Have you explained the risks?"
"I leave that to you. She is yours, Myrnin. But make no mistake, I will hold you responsible for her performance, and for her safety. "
Claire heard the click of metal, and when she looked behind her, Amelie was ... Gone.
She'd left her alone. With him.
When Claire turned back to him, Myrnin had raised his head and was staring straight at her. Warm, brown eyes no longer amused. Very serious.
"It seems neither of us has much choice, " he said. "We'll just have to make the best of it, then. " He fumbled through the stacks of books and came up with one that looked just as threadbare and fragile as the first one he'd mishandled, but this one was much was thinner. He thrust it forward, toward her, and Claire took it. The inscription on the cover was in English. Metals in Egyptian Inscriptions.
"The symbol I showed you is for copper, " Myrnin said. "Know the rest when you come back tomorrow. I will also expect you to read Basil Valentine's Last Will and Testament. I have a copy here -- " He shoved books around, almost frantic, and located something with a cry of satisfaction. He held that out to her as well. "Pay special attention to the alchemical symbols. You'll be expected to copy them out until you know them by heart. "
"But -- "
"Take them! Take them and get out! Out! I'm busy!"
Myrnin rushed past her, bowling over stacks of books in his haste, to fling open the door through which Amelie had disappeared. He was at least a foot taller than the door itself, like a human in a hobbit-house. He stood there, jittering his foot in impatience, the flip-flop making plastic slaps between flesh and floor.
"Did you hear me?" he snapped. "Go. No time now. Get out. Come tomorrow. "
"But -- I don't know how to get home. Or back here. "
He stared for a second, and then he laughed. "Someone will have to bring you. I can't configure the system just for you!"