That was decidedly unhelpful, and did nothing to allay the wave of nerves that had started clawing through his stomach when Darrow had first raised his wand. It was possible that this last statement should be taken at face value: that whatever Darrow had done could be undone, maybe even easily undone, and he didn't want Ford to do that so soon (though it wasn't as though he would have been able to manage it without a wand, anyway). It was equally possible that Darrow was just trying to spook him, though, and that this had nothing to do with the spells he'd cast. It was even possible that they weren't real spells at all, and this whole thing was a bluff, though he didn't think so. Or — it was possible that Darrow didn't know whether it had worked, or even what he'd done. Which — was alarming, but Ford wouldn't have put it out of the realm of possibility. Nothing was out of the realm of possibility, given the look Darrow had had in his eyes a moment ago.

"You said you were going to make me help you," he said nervously. He stayed where he was on the ground, but lowered his hands slightly as Darrow turned to look away. Was he close enough that Ford could try to tackle him before he could react? Would it be worth the risk, when Darrow currently had both their wands in hand? "What did you mean by that? What help do you need?"