On the yacht, Naga's abductors left her seated in a cabin with Ortega and Rankine. She did not try to stand. She knew she had been drugged, and was still very light-headed. She barely remembered the abduction, but the trip here in the open launch through the chill night air had cleared away some of the fog.

Dema had told her enough of the Lamia's encounters with these two for her to be pretty sure who they were. She suspected that they thought she was Dema, and the drugging was to prevent her from becoming the Lamia.

She didn't hold many cards here, and would have to play them right for them to do her any good. She knew she was having trouble thinking straight, and her best plan for the moment would be to wait for the drug to wear off a bit more before she tried to be too clever.

Ortega sat and watched her with a smug, brooding look. Rankine spoke first.

"Ah, lovely lady," he said, "Welcome to our yacht. Very kind of you to pay us a visit."

"It seems I didn't have much choice," she replied groggily. "But you do have it nicely appointed."

She had swept her gaze over the furnishings. They were not so much nautical as reminiscent of the islands, with bamboo frame couches and chairs. It was a big cabin, probably the biggest on the yacht. It could have been an island cabana, but for the sea-tight doors and portholes and the continual slight rocking motion. She almost began to think they were in the islands, the rocking a symptom of her groggy mental state.

"You think I don't remember you," said Ortega at last, "But no day goes by that I do not recall our last time together. I am shamed by my performance then. This time, the outcome will be different."

His words were too guarded for Naga to guess his intentions. Nor did she know what part Rankine might play in this, or how these two had come to be together. She decided she should try to draw them out.

"How could I forget you?" she said to Ortega. "You had a reputation as a man of power. But you left Philadelphia, and now you are here. Why?"

"Something happened to me that I don't quite recall," he said. "You saw me in a moment of weakness. But I am quite strong now." His eyes bored into her. Why would he tell her this? He seemed possessed, enraptured.

She met his gaze boldly. "This ship, the fact that you are here, this man you have at your side, all speak to me of your power, your strength of will. That a man such as you should think of me at all is very flattering."

"Lovely lady, you are a puzzle to me," said Rankine. "I know of you, and your clinic where you teach people to avoid drugs. Yet you seem to know my friend Miguel, and have been to see him in Pennsylvania. This does not make sense to Rankine. You are a mystery."

"I know of one Rankine who had his own business establishment not far from my clinic. Yet I've been told he left it behind, and returned to the islands. If you are that Rankine, now here on this ship, then you too are a mystery," she said.

"You know of Rankine in Chicago, yet you visit Ortega in Pennsylvania. How is it that you visit Ortega, and not Rankine?" he asked.

Naga did not reply, but she saw something in his eyes that made her believe he was toying with her, that he thought he knew the answer to his own question. That could be dangerous.

Ortega was staring at her again. She turned to him and said, "Perhaps you meant this to be a pleasant visit for me, but I've had a long day at my clinic and no chance to freshen up. Would you mind terribly if I use your facilities?"

Ortega stood and bowed to her. "But of course, my lady! Pardon our rude manners. This was to have been but a brief introduction. Let me show you to your cabin. I'm sure you will find there everything you need. When you are quite ready, you will join us for dinner."

She got to her feet, still unsteady. Ortega took her hand and led her to a smaller but still quite luxurious cabin. It was just across an inner passageway from the cabin they had been in. He left her alone and closed the door.

A door within the cabin opened on a small but well-appointed bath. She went inside and washed her face, trying to clear her mind. She began to hear some commotion in the cabin beyond the bathroom door, then it got quiet again.

She took her time cleaning up and smoothing her rumpled skirt and blouse. Then she opened the bathroom door. The little cabin was clouded with marijuana smoke. Rankine sat in a padded bamboo chair, holding a bong in his hand.

The pipe was not the only source of smoke. Rankine had several smoldering bowls set about the room. Naga waved her hand in front of her face in a vain attempt to clear the air, but it was too thick to avoid. Almost immediately she began to feel light-headed again.

"Ortega does not remember clearly, and may wish to fool himself about you. But Rankine remembers. Rankine knows that you are not the Loa Damballah he once took you for. Rankine knows you are a witch, a deceiver! 'Tis you who calls herself the Lamia. 'Tis you who becomes a snake and slithers into Rankine's dream. But Rankine knows you cannot abide the divine smoke, it drives away your power! You will not have power over Rankine this time, witch-woman."

Naga coughed from the smoke, and leaned unsteadily on the back of a chair, but she glared angrily at Rankine. "Fool!" she said, "You think you understand the power of the Lamia? You are too filled with your own smoke! Never will one such as you, with the blood of innocents on his hands, escape the wrath of the Lamia!"

Rankine cowered visibly for a moment before her intensity, but then he recovered his bold façade and said "Ah-ha, the witch thinks to make Rankine tremble with words. But Rankine is not fooled. He sees her powerless before him. She does not show Rankine the face of Death. She does not become a snake and bind Rankine in her coils. Instead she leans on a chair, unable even to stand in the power of Rankine's smoke."

Indeed, Naga had become so light-headed she could barely keep her feet, and looked desperately toward the outer door and fresh air, not even sure she could walk that far without stumbling or fainting.

Then the inner door burst open and Ortega came into the room. He took one look at Naga and rushed to her side, supporting her. "Rankine! You fool!" he shouted, "You would ruin everything. She is mine, and she is not to be treated this way!" He led Naga straight to the outer door and swung it open.

"You are the fool, Ortega, if you do not keep her drugged. Do not let your fancy for her sway you. Let the witch regain her power and she will turn on you in an instant!"

"I know what I'm doing. I warn you, Rankine, don't defy me in this. It will not go well for you if you do."

Naga was leaning dizzily far out over the rail, trying to clear her lungs. Ortega had turned his back to her, facing Rankine in the doorway of the cabin. Suddenly the ship pitched as the wake of another large vessel rolled under her hull.

The unexpected motion was ever so slight, and Rankine and Ortega, accustomed to being on board, did not even notice it. But it was enough. Naga, already dizzy, reacted wrongly and tumbled head-first over the railing. The breath was driven from her lungs when she hit the water, and then she was sinking, down and down into the cold depths of Lake Michigan.