"I affected the persona with which I thought you'd be most comfortable. I've dealt with enough witches not to underestimate their abilities. Not every sorcerer hates or even dislikes witches. Many do, though, even those who'd be considered decent, moral men."

"Decent moral sorcerers?"

"No, that's not an oxymoron. Not every sorcerer is evil. To say that would be akin to saying that every witch is weak and fearful, which I'm sure you wouldn't appreciate. A stereotype becomes a stereotype when a significant percentage of a population appears to conform to it. Unlike some stereotypes, that of the morally corrupt sorcerer is, unfortunately, valid."

"Absolute power corrupts absolutely."

"Exactly. Those who chase the dream of absolute power, as many sorcerers do, find themselves obsessed by it."

"So you don't crave stronger powers?"

He met my gaze. "What I crave, as I believe you do, is stronger knowledge. The best possible repertoire of spells and the power to do my best with them. When I say I'm pleased that you found these grimoires, I must admit, I can't help but see it as an opportunity to acquire new spells."

"Can't blame you for that." I shifted and turned toward him. "Don't you think maybe we're being naive? Believing that we'll never be corrupted by our own quest for power?"

"Perhaps."

"There's a definitive answer."

"Wouldn't it be naive of me to think I couldn't possibly be naive?"

"Enough," I said. "You're making my head spin. Time to try out a new spell."

He shifted forward. "Would you… object to an audience?"

I grinned. "Not at all."

I gathered my books and we went down to the basement. When I said I hoped to learn a new spell, I meant exactly that: one new spell. As much as I longed to test-drive the whole book, even hoping to learn one spell might be pushing it. To cast a spell from the tertiary level grimoires, I first had to master a new one from the secondary spellbook, which would take time.

I further dampened my own enthusiasm by insisting on proceeding in a logical fashion. Tonight I wanted not only to learn something new, but to test my theory. Was it necessary to learn the corresponding secondary spell before one could cast the tertiary?

To test this, I selected the suffocation spell. Since I'd practiced it already for hours without success, it was the perfect choice. If I could cast it after learning the secondary spell, it would support my hypothesis. The suffocation spell was classified as an air elemental, class five.

The corresponding air spell was one that caused hiccups. Maybe in grade school that would have been fun, but for anyone over the age of ten, it was a pretty silly spell. Logically, though, it made sense. Both hiccups and suffocation are interruptions to breathing.

When I'd run through these grimoires the first time,I'd tried this spell, just for fun, but stopped before mastering it. If my theory was right, that might explain why the suffocation spell had shown some signs that it might eventually work-because I'd partially learned the secondary spell.

Struck by a thought, I dug out my Coven-sanctioned grimoire and flipped to a page near the end. A spell to cure hiccups, which I'd learned years ago. That one was an air elemental spell, class five. The primary spell. First you learn to cure hiccups, then you learn to cause them, then you learn to cut off breathing altogether.

"Mind if I give you hiccups?" I asked Cortez.

"What?"

"Hiccups. I need to give you a case of hiccups. Is that okay?"

"I can't say I've ever had a girl offer to give me that."

"It's a spell," I said. "Don't worry. I know one to cure them, too."

"You'll have to teach me that one. The curing, not the giving. I've never had much luck with holding my breath."

"No? Then just wait until you see the spell I'm going to try next."

Before I could hope for a successful cast on the hiccup spell, I needed to practice it. Having Cortez there wasn't a distraction, probably because he was considerate enough to sit behind me, so I wouldn't feel like I was performing.

After twenty minutes of tinkering with the spell, the rhythm felt right, so I asked Cortez to move in front of me. When he did, he faced the wall, rather than looking straight at me. That made it easier. So easy, in fact, that the spell worked on the second try. Then, of course, I had to do another half-dozen trial runs, to be sure I had it right. When I debated another try, Cortez proclaimed me fully proficient in the spell, and begged leave to regain his breath.

Next I moved on to the suffocation spell. I'd start by casting it on myself. Lucas had been through enough that night and I wasn't in danger of suffocating myself. As with a binding spell, the moment I stopped concentrating, the spell would break.

It took twenty minutes before I could recite the suffocation spell. It wasn't a difficult incantation. It being Latin, it was in the spell-casting language with which I was most familiar. The delay resulted from one simple factor. Nerves. So many of my hopes rode on this spell that I stumbled over the words. I tried to tell myself that it didn't matter that much, that if I failed, I'd find another way, but to no avail. I knew how important this was and couldn't persuade myself otherwise. I scarcely dared utter the words for fear I'd fail. As if, in fumbling just this once, the magic would somehow vanish, never to be recovered.

After tripping over the incantation a few times, I changed tack and began with the second line. By leaving off the opening, I was guaranteed that the spell would fail, so I could concentrate on the recitation. Having tried this spell many times before, I quickly picked up the rhythm.