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Sam, almost inaudibly, whispered, "Be careful. He's dangerous when he's like this."
Yeah, no kidding. Claire nodded, swallowed, and smiled as Myrnin turned toward her with those crazy, delighted eyes. She wanted to ask what came after the manic phase, but she didn't dare.
"I'll be in the other room," Sam said. Myrnin waved him off impatiently, barely sparing him a glance.
"Yes, yes, fine, go. Here. First let's start with the Egyptian inscription for asem. Asem. You know what element that represents?"
"Electrum," Claire said, and carefully chalked the symbol. Sort of a bowl, with a big staff through the middle. "How's that?"
"Excellent! Yes, that's it. Now, something difficult. Chesbet."
Sapphire. That was a hard one. Claire bit her lip for a second, getting the order in her mind, and then drew it out. Circle above a double-slashed line, next to a leg, next to a thing that looked kind of like a car with no wheels over two separated circles.
"No, no, no," Myrnin said, grabbed an eraser, and rubbed out the car. "Too modern. Look."
He drew it again, this time more roughly, and it still looked like a car to her. She copied it, twice, until he was satisfied.
There were a lot of symbols, and he quizzed her on just about all of them, growing more and more excited. Her arm ached from holding up the chalk to the board, especially when, after she screwed up the symbol for lead, he made her repeat it a hundred times.
"We should do this on computer," she said, chalking it carefully for the eighty-ninth time. "With a drawing pad."
"Nonsense. You're lucky I don't make you inscribe it with a stylus on a wax tablet, like the old days," Myrnin snorted. "Children. Spoiled children, always playing with the shinest toy."
"Computers are more efficient!"
"I can perform calculations on that abacus faster than you can solve them on your computer," Myrnin sneered.
Okay, now he was pissing her off. "Prove it!"
"What?"
"Prove it." She backed off on her tone, but Myrnin wasn't looking angry; he was looking strangely interested. He stared at her for a second in silence, and then he got the biggest, oddest smile she'd ever seen on the face of a vampire.
"All right," he said. "A contest. Computer versus abacus."
She wasn't at all sure now that was a good idea, even if it had been her idea, essentially. "Um -- what do I win?" More importantly, what do I lose? Making bargains was a way of life in Morganville, and it was a lot like making deals with man-eating fairies. Better be careful what you ask for.
"Your freedom," he said solemnly. His eyes were wide and guileless, his too-young face shining with honesty. "I will tell Amelie you were not suited to the work. She'll let you go about your life, such as it is."
Good prize. Too good. Claire swallowed hard. "And if I lose?"
"Then I eat you," Myrnin said.
With absolutely no change in expression.
"You -- you can't do that." She pulled up the sleeve on her shirt and held up her wrist so the gold bracelet caught the light.
"Don't be ridiculous," he said. "Of course I can do it. I can do anything I want, child. Without me, there is no future. No one, especially Amelie, begrudges me the occasional tidbit. You're hardly large enough to qualify as a meal in any case, and besides, I'm making it well worth your while."
She took a step back from him. A big one. That crazy smile ... She glanced toward the door of the other room, where Sam was waiting for her. No wonder Amelie had told him to stay.
Myrnin gave a sad, theatrical sigh. "Mortals simply aren't what they used to be," he said. "A thousand years ago, you would have bartered your immortal soul for a crust of stale bread. Now I can't even get you to gamble at all, even for your freedom. Really, people have become so ... boring. So, no bet? Really?"
She shook her head. His expression fell into utter disappointment. "All right," he said. "Then you will write me an essay for tomorrow on the history of alchemy. I can't expect it to be scholarly, but I do expect you to understand the basis of what it is that I am trying to teach you."
"You're teaching me alchemy?"
He seemed surprised, and looked around his laboratory. "Can you not see what I'm doing here?"
"But alchemy -- it's crap. I mean, it's like magic, not science."
"Alchemy's accomplishments are sadly forgotten, and yes, magic is an excellent description for things that you have no basis to understand. As for science -- " Myrnin made a rude noise. His eyes had taken on that hectic shine again. "Science is a method, not a religion, yet it can be just as close-minded. Open minds here, Claire. Always open minds. Question everything, accept nothing as fact until you prove it for yourself. Yes?"
She nodded hesitantly, more afraid to disagree with him than convinced. Myrnin grinned at her and slapped her back with stinging force.
"That's my girl," he said. "Now. What do you know of this theory of Schr?dinger's? The one about the cat?"
Myrnin didn't go weird until the very end of her time with him, when he was -- she thought -- getting tired. She had to admit, there was something fun about working in his lab; he had so much passion, so much enthusiasm for everything. Even for scaring her silly. He was like a little kid, all nervous energy and fiddling hands, quick to laugh, quick to cut her down if she made a mistake. He liked to mock, not correct. He thought if she had to figure it out for herself, she'd learn it properly.
She checked her watch and found it was almost eight o'clock -- late. She was supposed to be home by now. Myrnin was ignoring her, temporarily, as she copied out tables of incomprehensible symbols from a book he said was so rare his was the only copy left. She yawned, stretched, and said, "I need to be going."
He had his eye fixed to what looked like a clunky, ancient microscope. "Already?"
"It's late. I should go home."
Myrnin straightened, stared at her, and she saw the storm forming in his expression. "You are dictating to me now?" he snapped. "Who is the master? Who is the student?"
"I -- sorry, but I can't stay here all night!"
Myrnin walked toward her, and she couldn't even recognize him. No more manic energy, no more humor, no more sharp, brilliant anger. He looked troubled and clouded.
"Home," he repeated. "Home is where the heart is. Why don't you leave yours here? I'll take very good care of it."
"M-my -- heart?" She dropped the pen and backed up, putting a big lab table full of chemical equipment between them. Myrnin bared his teeth and put down his fangs. Discovery Channel. King Cobra. Oh God, can he spit venom or something? His eyes flared bright, fueled with something that looked to her like ... fear.
