"Don't run, " he said, and sounded annoyed. "I hate it when they run. Now, tell me what you're doing here!" he demanded. "Why do you keep following me? Who are you?"
"It's Claire, Myrnin. I'm your apprentice. I'm supposed to be here, remember?"
That was the wrong thing to say, and she had no idea why. Myrnin stopped, and the light in his eyes intensified to insanity. Ugly, and very scary. When he moved, it was a smooth, sinuous glide.
"My apprentice, " he said. "So I own you, then. I can do as I wish. "
King cobra.
"Sam!" Claire yelled, and bolted for the stairs.
She didn't get more than two steps. Myrnin came over the table, scattering glass instruments to shatter in glittering sprays on the floor, and she felt his cold, impossibly strong hands close on her ankles and jerk backwards. She flailed for something to grab onto, but it was only a tower of books, and it collapsed as she fell.
She hit the floor hard enough to put the world on a sparkling, unsteady hold for a few seconds, and when she blinked away the stars Myrnin had taken hold of her shoulders and was staring down at her, inches away.
"Don't, " she said. "Myrnin, don't. I'm your friend! I won't hurt you!"
She didn't know why she said it, but it must have been the right thing to do. His eyes widened, white showing all around, and then the glitter of crazy was replaced by a flood of tears. He patted her cheek, soft and confused, and the fangs folded up in his mouth. "Dear child, " he said. "What are you doing here? Is Amelie making you come here? She shouldn't. You're far too young and kind. You should tell her you won't come back. I don't want to hurt you, but I will. " He tapped his forehead. "This is betraying me. This stupid, stupid flesh. " The tapping became violent slaps to his forehead, and tears broke free to run down his cheeks. "I need to teach someone, but not you. Not you, Claire. Too young. Too small. You bring out the beast. "
He stood up and wandered away, tsking over the broken glass, righting the fallen books. As if she'd ceased to exist. Claire sat up and rolled to her feet, shaky and scared.
Sam was standing just a few feet away. She hadn't seen or heard him approach, and he hadn't acted to save her. His face was tense, his eyes uneasy.
"He's sick, " Claire said.
"Sick, sick, sick, yes, I am, " Myrnin said. He had his head in his hands now, as if it hurt him. "We're all sick. "
"What's he talking about?" Claire turned to Sam. "Nothing. " He shook his head. "Don't listen to him. "