The smell, if there was such a thing in the world of the pendant, was what broke the spell over Aurora, made her look away from Balthazar and take in what he had created around them.  She could not guess at the function of half of the. . .devices. . .furnishing these bleak chambers, but she was imaginative enough to hazard a guess; the large cross with manacles at the end of each bar, the carefully hung implements of torture upon the walls.  It frightened her, he could see by her sudden pallor and trembling, and looked back at Balthazar.<br/><br/>"As. . .you. . . wish, grandsire," she repeated, with an uncertain pause in her whisper.