Witchcraft

arrogance. Cavenaugh whom she loved. He was the reason she had to keep trying to break that glass lamp base, Kimberly realized with sudden clarity. Cavenaugh would expect her to at least try. But that damned smoke was so overpowering. Desperately Kimberly twisted, knocking her shoulder against the end table. The crash of the lamp as it fell to the floor coincided with the opening of her bedroom door. The destruction of the bulb left only the glow of the brazier coals for light. In the sudden darkness Kimberly heard people moving around. "What the hell have you done to her?" It was Cavenaugh's voice, Kimberly realized dreamily. "Ah, Cavenaugh . I knew you'd get here.
    What took you so long?" The light from the hall shafted through the haze in the room, providing just enough illumination for Kimberly to see that Cavenaugh was not alone. Emlyn was behind him. "Oh, dear. They got you, too," she whispered sadly. "I'm so sorry, Cavenaugh . I think I made a mistake tonight."
    "You've drugged her with this god damned smoke," Cavenaugh said somewhere in the haze. "She'll live until tonight. Just thought we'd give her a little something to keep her quiet. She's the kind who would have made trouble. Wonder why she pushed that lamp over?
    Oh, well, if she wants to lie here in the darkness, that's her problem.
    Get on the bed. Zorah , tie his ankles. And be careful."
    "Do you think it's safe to leave both of them here together?" Zorah asked. "The smoke will keep them under control. Besides, where else can we put him?
    Ariel won't want him watching her preparation rituals." Kimberly felt the bed give beside her as Cavenaugh obediently allowed Zorah to finish binding him. A moment later the two had left the room, leaving Kimberly and her companion in smoky darkness. "Kim, are you all right?"
    "The smoke," she tried to explain sleepily. "Yeah, I know." He was moving, sitting up beside her and shifting around. "Wake up, honey. This will go a lot faster if you help. That smoke will get to me soon."
    "Help?
    How?"
    "There's a knife inside my boot. Turn around so you can reach down and pull it out." Kimberly struggled to concentrate as he urged her onto her side. She felt his leg and then the leather of one boot.
    Behind her back her fingers fumbled awkwardly. "Why did you let them get you?" she whispered unhappily. "I didn't want them to get you, Cavenaugh ."
    "I had to let them take me. I had no way of knowing where you were or what they might have already done to you. So I just walked up to the front door and pretended total ignorance."
    "Quite a surprise seeing Ariel, wasn't it?" For some reason that seemed inordinately funny. Kimberly giggled and her fingers slid off the boot. Cavenaugh swore. "When I think of harboring her under my roof for the past twelve months.. Kim, stop it," he ordered harshly. "I'm sorry," she mumbled guiltily. "Didn't mean to laugh. Just seemed funny."
    "Get the knife!"
    The command in his voice cut through her foggy senses. Another moment of clarity returned and Kimberly managed to get her fingers inside his boot. She felt the handle of the knife and tugged. "That's it, honey," he said approvingly. Then he coughed. "Now hold it as firmly as you can. And be careful, it's very, very sharp."
    "I'm not a little kid. I know about sharp knives," she informed him loftily. But obediently Kimberly held the knife firmly. She was vaguely aware of him turning around so that he could rub his bonds against the sharp blade but her mind was on another matter. "About the mistake I made this evening, Cavenaugh ."
    "We both made a few. We'll talk about it later," he gritted. "Damn it, Kim, hold the knife still!"
    "You're always telling me what to do," she said with a sigh, but instinctively she responded to his orders and tightened her grip on the knife handle. "You'll get used to it." A moment later something gave and Cavenaugh moved away from her.
    She heard him cough again and through the shadows saw him rip the pillowcase off one pillow. Holding the material over his mouth, he quickly freed his ankles. Seconds later he was kneeling on the bed, opening the window behind it. The cold, wet air rushed into the room and into Kimberly's brain, clearing it a little. The strange sense of amusement she had been feeling faded rapidly as the effects of the smoke subsided. Panic returned. Then Cavenaugh was working on her bonds, slicing through them with efficient ease. "Now what?" she whispered, gulping in the fresh air. Her brain