Amuné heard the words, but most of them slid past without registering.  Panic filled her and radiated outwards, though her years of training and practice allowed her to maintain enough focus for combat.  But the pain, the corruption, these connected, and they drove her to greater efforts.  Whoever wanted in her mind, the wrongness clinging to them made it all the more important that she not grant them access.

-

Next to Jareth, the girl tensed, and a faint, high-pitched whine escaped her.  Pain and terror twisted her face as her hands pressed against her head.  "getoutgetoutgetout"  It was a whispered litany, but though he looked around, he saw no visible cause.  He could only assume it was something she sensed, or Saw, and the young man rested his hand on her hair.

Then Lya barged in, shouting.  "I didn't do anything!" he cried, mistaking her words as directed at him.

-

Though she tried to gain purchase on the thoughts behind the attack, they repelled her attempts and slipped from her grasp.  Amuné waited, cautiously stretching her senses outward to find out if they were truly gone or merely pretending.  But a surge of power nearby demanded her attention and she folded herself back up and dropped into her body without bothering to be careful.  Jareth was there.  Jareth didn't fight, and he didn't have magic.  He was there because of her, and she had to keep him safe.

-

The Seer rolled to her feet, drawing her knife in the process.  She was disoriented from the rapid switch from mind to body, and her physical senses would take a moment to catch up.  But she could feel Jareth, the solid, grounded presence with a faint hint of metal, and the other source of energy was bright and angry beyond, so she tried to move between them, relying on muscle memory to put knife in her hand and, if possible, defend for that vital moment.  Something stopped her.  Jareth was the only one close, but something held her, kept her from moving.

He'd caught her as she stood, one arm wrapping around the girl's shoulders, the other circling her waist.  Lya was angry, yes, but she was defensive, and whatever his friend was picking up, she didn't seem properly aware of her surroundings.  "Amuné, please.  Whatever it is, it's not here right now."  Jareth's voice was firm.  He'd seen it before a few times, enough that he knew she would sort herself out soon enough.  And indeed, her eyes cleared as she blinked, then looked around rapidly.  "In my head, where is he?  I felt it -- where, it was--"  Her gaze fastened on Lya, then moved away.  The woman was angry but not attacking, and while hers was the flare of energy that had made her rush back, thinking she had to fight, she was not yet a threat.  It took a moment longer before the girl connected the two and lowered her weapon, with a soft word to Jareth, who nodded and let her go.  She looked at Lya, uncertain but expectant.

[@TheMinorFall]