Claire's summoned a portal in the bathroom of Common Grounds with two coffees in her hands. She couldn't wait longer than she had to; she needed to get to Myrnin as soon as possible to strangle him for lying to her about Sam. What kind of asshole would lie about one of her good friends not being dead anymore? There was either something wrong he needed to alert her to without drawing attention or he was just being a douche. Either way, he needed her at his lab.

The portal opened easily. She looked down at the coffees she held and noticed her hands were shaking. Before she had left, Claire had put a silver-coated stake in her back pocket and she felt to make sure it was still there. Okay. She didn't know what to expect, but she took a deep breath and stepped through.

The lab was illuminated brightly. That was unusual for Myrnin. Usually he only turned on the lamps scattered across the place when she complained how she couldn't see what she was doing in the dim lighting he preferred. But today almost every light he owned was on and every speck of filth was on display. The cement floor was decorated with colorful leaves and made the lab smell like wet soil.

Myrnin danced by her and plucked the paper coffee cups out of her hands. He walked over to someone standing by a lab table in the middle of the room and handed one of the coffees to him. This someone had familiar red hair and he was watching Claire carefully.

"No," she breathed.

Myrnin looked smug at the man's side as he took a sip of his sugary beverage.

"What the hell," she mumbled, walking over to the two men as if in a trance. Claire stopped when she was several feet from the redheaded man. She stared at him with her mouth open. "No way." She looked at Myrnin. "Is this some kind of sick joke?"

His smug look was gone. "Well, it isn't a joke, that's for certain," he said. Claire was almost too focused on the man in front of her to notice how Myrnin did not disagree it was sick. Almost.

"Sam?" she asked, unsure of herself.

He put his coffee on the table and nodded slowly. "Yeah."

Claire stepped closer and hesitantly reached out, poking his arm with her finger. He felt solid. She immediately wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tightly. Sam returned her hug.

"How are you here?" she asked, stepping back. She looked over him again, seeing the earthen stains all over his clothes. They looked familiar. They were the clothes he was wearing when he was buried.

Myrnin explained and Claire thought she was going to be sick a one point.

"Someone is speaking through Amelie? Because she's possessed?"

They nodded. Claire would not have believed Myrnin if Samuel Glass were not standing in front of her in that moment. Myrnin told her of the messages they had received and how the voices had given them three days to find a solution.

"We only have three days to either make things right or find a way around this… this payment?" Claire asked. She felt so detached from the situation, as if her mind could not accept that this was really happening, but she knew, deep down, this was real.

"Yes," Myrnin confirmed. "I have the instructions for a potion that is supposed to rid hosts of their possessors." Claire's face must have been questioning because the scientist sent her a sharp look. "People in the Middle Ages were rather open-minded to the preternatural," he explained. "I would suggest you do the same, given the situation we are in."

Claire nodded dumbly. She shook her head, gathering herself and her nerves. "All right, what do we need to do?"

Myrnin grinned boyishly the way he did whenever they began a new project together. "I knew there was a reason I liked you."

It was strange working next to Myrnin and Sam as they mixed the… potion, or whatever. Potions were for witches and magic. Was what they were involved in magic? If Sam was really experiencing talking to ghosts and being a vampire, but also not, then maybe Claire could allow herself to call it a potion.

"Claire, put a dash of the turpeth mineral in the cauldron and stir counterclockwise four times while picturing the elements in order," Myrnin said offhandedly as if he had not just asked her to do something utterly ridiculous.

"Why counterclockwise?"

Myrnin set the little book down and gave her a look. "Miss Danvers, if you are going to continue to ask questions that only waste time, I will make the potion myself. While it is lovely and comforting to have your help, I would prefer it if you ceased your endless chatter."

She rolled her eyes and started stirring. The answer Myrnin was sticking to today was, "Alchemical purposes." Sometimes Claire could get him to explain why his concoctions needed a certain ingredient: "Why does it call for three drops of water from a babbling brook instead of a creek?" for example, and Myrnin would go off on the history babbling brooks had why it was necessary to help with one process or another. But not today. And she, apparently, should know better than to ask questions when it came to Myrnin and his alchemy.

But Claire's memory recalled a time when she had asked a similar question.

"Why do I have to stir it clockwise? How will the solution even know a difference?" she asked.

"Because, little Claire," he said, patting her head condescendingly. "Alchemy is part of the mind and soul as well as the ingredients. If you stir counterclockwise as the directions clearly state not to, the energies from the balance of your body will enter the brew in the backwards order it requires. Please," he said, sighing exasperatedly, "just follow the instructions."

Claire had ignored Myrnin then and stirred it counterclockwise. The brew had turned out to be a dud.

This time, Claire just followed the instructions and turned her wooden spoon around the cauldron four times counterclockwise.

"Samuel," Myrnin said, calling Claire out of her thoughts. She looked at Myrnin who was to her left with his nose still buried in his book. Sam had been staring at their ingredients laid out across the table. His clear blue eyes found Myrnin.

"Hm?"

"You seem to be entertaining your thoughts and for someone in a situation like your own, I would suggest doing quite the opposite. Do not think about the afterlife or the consequences of your being here, walking among the living—or not," he added gracelessly in reference to himself and other vampires. He set his book on the table and looked at Sam. "Make yourself useful and go collect those strawberries. I need three. Also, your hair is giving me a headache."

"My… hair?" Sam asked with his brow raised.

"Run along. They are the last things we need and we're very close to being done."

Sam looked like he was having trouble suppressing an eye roll, but he called forth a portal and stepped through. As soon as he was gone, Myrnin set down the book and grabbed Claire's arm. She nearly spilled the potion all over the lab table as he dragged her to the back rooms of his lab.

"Myrnin, what the hell!"

"Sh," he said, still pulling her by the arm. "She's been calling my name for nearly half an hour now."

"Who?"

Myrnin didn't answer her. He brought them to the lock-covered door of his bedroom where he used to sleep when he was insane. He nodded to the door. "Do you hear her?"

Claire cocked her head.

"Myrnin… Myrnin…"

That was Amelie's voice, but the intonation of her words sounded very un-Amelie-like. It was almost as if she were begging him to come to her.

He took out several loose keys from his pocket and began undoing the multiple locks, but Claire put her hand on his. He stilled and looked at her.

"Should you do that?" she asked. "Are you sure it's safe to go in there?"

Just as she finished speaking, something slammed against the door loudly and sent an echo throughout the entire lab. Claire gasped and jumped back quickly. Myrnin seemed just as surprised.

"Myrnin."

It was no longer Amelie's voice, but a chorus of many voices that varied in pitch that came together to make a cacophony of demonic sounds. It boomed through the door and made Claire's hair stand on end. Her wide eyes found him in the dim hallway.

"Myrnin," the voices said again, sounding as if they were taunting him. "I know you're out there. Don't hide. Come in."

He paused.

"Come in," the voices said, louder this time, "or Amelie will throw herself onto this door again and again until she breaks."

Claire gulped.

"Stay behind me, Claire," he said as he returned to unlocking the padlocks down the doorframe. She, for once, did as she was told. Unsurprisingly, she felt no safer. Well, maybe a tiny bit.

Myrnin finally undid all of the locks and opened the door with an ominous creak.

Amelie was standing in the middle of the room with her hands clasped in front of her. There was a smile on her face and she looked as if she were inviting them for tea. Almost. If it weren't for her eyes that were completely black.

"I am losing my patience with the two of you," Amelie said. But it wasn't Amelie. The fact that the voices were coming from her mouth was unsettling. Claire grabbed hold of Myrnin's arm as they slowly entered the room.

They reached the middle of the room and Amelie sat down on the edge of the bed in front of them. Her black eyes blinked.

"Ah, Claire. How nice to finally meet you. There is quite a lot in this head of Amelie's that involves you in some way. I knew you would become involved sooner or later. You really are a valuable piece in their little game. But you are foolish—both of you are," she said with no further preamble. "Do you really think I can be so easily controlled? The potion you are brewing is meant for spirits of little power. I am very different. The only way to balance the scales again is to put Samuel Glass back in his grave."

Claire glanced at Myrnin through the corner of her eye. He was glaring at the possessed Amelie and he looked vengeful. Claire didn't think she'd ever seen him look so righteously angry before.

"And if we still feed her the elixir?" he said through clenched teeth.

The demons inside of Amelie laughed. When she smiled Claire saw her fangs. "Go ahead, alchemist. I will drink your potion willingly to demonstrate just how futile the effort is. But what is the purpose of this skepticism I see in your face? You can trust my words are true, but if you do not, and you feed Amelie the potion, there will be consequences for your precious Founder and her dear, dear Samuel."

Claire and Myrnin left soon after that, locking the many locks on the door to secure her makeshift prison. They retreated back to the main part of the lab that was still brightly lit to help Sam and Claire see with both of their human eyesight. Claire looked at her vampire boss whose face was lined with a deep frown.

"Is he bluffing?" she asked.

"I am unsure."

"Why else would he threaten her and Sam if there's no point to giving her the potion?"

"I don't know." He ran his finger across his bottom lip, lost in thought. He looked down at her, his face set in determination now. "We will finish the potion."

Claire nodded and returned to the table. She jumped slightly when a wave of energy coursed through the room and a portal opened in the middle. Sam stepped out with a handful of strawberries.

"Sorry. I—I saw Michael and I had to avoid him," he said.

Myrnin ignored him and held his hand out for the fruit. Sam placed them in his hand and Myrnin took over. He threw the berries in without a second thought and took up the wooden spoon to stir the concoction four and a half times, this time in a clockwise motion. Claire marveled at how focused he was on the preparation and how he handled each component with an effortless grace. She was watching someone who had done something like this a thousand times before.

He placed the cauldron on a Bunsen and turned on the heat. The potion brewed for several minutes with Myrnin keeping a watchful eye on it and then he took it off. He filled a glass vile with the liquid using a dropper. The solution had turned a dark red over the heat but now it was perfectly clear. It looked like opaque blood.

Myrnin put a stopper in the vial. He looked at Claire and Sam seriously. "Both of you should remain here."

Neither of them argued.

Myrnin turned around, heading back into the room with Amelie. Claire bit her lip, worried for him.

"Who's that woman in the photograph?" Sam asked. Claire looked over at him. He was looking at the only framed picture in Myrnin's lab that was standing up on the small stand next to his favorite armchair.

Claire saw the picture and looked away quickly. Sam was asking about a photo of Ada and Myrnin that someone had taken long ago when Morganville was just a concept. It was one of those black and white photos where the subjects would have to sit still for a long time, probably taken during the Victorian era. There was a table covered in a lace tablecloth that was a common prop in photos of the time. Next to the table was a chair where Ada sat. Myrnin stood by her side with his hand on her shoulder but his face was a gray blur and a streak of white. Ada was smirking with a joyful light in her eyes Claire had never seen for herself. Ada had said something witty at the last moment and Myrnin had laughed down at her. It was quite the image.

"That's Ada," she said. "Remember? From the welcome feast?"

Sam looked shocked. "That's Ada?"

Claire looked at him strangely. "Yeah, why?"

He was silent for a moment as he contemplated something. It looked as if he were debating whether to tell her what he was thinking or not. Finally, he opened his mouth. "I saw her ghost," he said in a hushed voice.

Claire's jaw fell slack and she immediately closed it in case Ada was in the room. She practically heard Ada's tinny voice coming through speakers to say something snarky about her reaction.

"You mean you saw her along with the dead girl?" Claire asked, whispering.

Sam nodded, still staring at the picture.

"You didn't tell Myrnin, did you?"

He shook his head no.

She swallowed. If Myrnin knew, what would he do? He's lost Ada so many times that Claire thought if he found out she was still here in his lab he would finally break. She thought for a long moment. Ada hadn't told Sam to tell Myrnin she was there. What was she doing? Was she just lingering? Maybe watching over Myrnin?

"Don't tell him," she said finally.

Sam seemed to agree. "It seems like it's for the best."

"Hey, Sam," Claire said, changing the subject. "How are you feeling? You seem quieter than usual. I mean, not like you should feel the same as you did before… you know…"

He sighed, finally tearing his gaze from Ada's photo. He looked at Claire with his crystal eyes.

"It's going to sound crazy," he warned.

"Hit me with it," she said, doubting she could be surprised.

"I feel a connection with things that I've never felt before. It's hard to explain. I… I think it has something to do with alchemy. In the graveyard I was staring at the moon and I felt something strange. Loneliness, but complete power. Myrnin has pure gold underneath the lab from King Richard or something and it—I don't know how to explain it. I felt so perfect, and I know it was because of the gold. Then when you two were mixing the cure for Amelie, I— I have no idea. I just… I know it has something to do with alchemy."

Claire was shocked. She did the best she could to keep it off her face, but she knew she was doing a poor job of it when Sam looked away from her. After trying to think of a good follow up question, she could only come up with, "How did Amelie raise you? Was it alchemy?"

"Yes."

Myrnin was back. He was standing in the doorway watching them. It looked like he had heard Sam's confession.

"Did it work?" Claire asked, hopeful.

"No." Claire's heart fell. "Nothing changed. The demons inside her merely laughed at me. And now—"

Myrnin's eyes widened. Claire looked over to see what he was staring at. When she saw it, she gasped and scrambled away from Sam.

A huge piece of flesh on Sam's neck looked as if it had rotted away. Sam looked down and saw for himself what they were looking at. He reached a trembling hand to the wound but didn't flinch in pain when his hand met the gaping hole. It didn't look as if it caused him any pain whatsoever.

They all rushed to Amelie's room. She was lying on the bed in the corner peacefully, but something dark was spreading on her arm. Claire looked closer and saw it was the flesh growing black and shrinking. A hole appeared and widened over Amelie's forearm as the skin kept receding. The rotting area didn't grow past her elbow.

Claire covered her mouth with her hand. She had to do everything she could to keep herself from throwing up her breakfast croissant from Common Grounds.

Myrnin, the first of them to gather themselves, ushered them out of the room. When they were back in the lab, he said in a hushed voice to Claire, "It would appear this was the consequence."

Claire's arm itched. She reached down and scratched, but when she pulled her hand away she felt stickiness on her fingers. She looked down and saw she had scratched the skin right off in a bloody wound that looked similar to Amelie's. The Protection bracelet on her wrist trembled.

Claire mumbled "Oh no" before she fainted.

She woke up in her own bed. Myrnin had pulled up a chair and was wrapping her arm in a bandage. Fortunately, the wound on her arm wasn't blackened or rotting like Amelie and Sam's. It didn't hurt either, which was the part that really concerned Claire the most.

When he saw she was awake, Myrnin said, "This is a result of your connection to Amelie. The solution is obvious: give up your Protection. But you need a new Protector."

Claire frowned. "I thought you couldn't protect anyone," she said. "You haven't gone through the process of making yourself a Protector."

Myrnin looked as if he was swallowing bile before he said, "Which I regret enormously now—"

"Because I am a Protector."

Oliver stepped out of the shadows and Claire nearly fainted again.