Swept Away (The Swept Away Saga, Book One)

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Seated around the hut's tiny, smoking fire, the priestess, whom the natives called Mother Agnetha, stared us down with a calculating gaze, her back straight and head held high. Behind her, some of the villagers sat, watching on in curiosity as we all waited for her to speak.

Trying not to cough, I resisted the urge to wipe my watering eyes, feeling like doing so would somehow prove to her we were weak. The smoke hung in the air like a fog, swirling around the confined space, touching all in its presence. Mother Agnetha, after finishing her appraisal of us, followed the tendrils with rapt attention, her pupils turning every which way, mouth clamped shut. I didn't know how she was doing it, or which line she was following, because it all seemed to meld into one giant cloud of suffocation to me.

Tristan, who only reeked of whiskey slightly, simply smiled, as if there were absolutely nothing happening and we were just sitting around for fun. He was leaning on his good arm, his sling resting against his shirt and jacket with ease and I suddenly wondered if he could feel the pain from his cut at all.

"The gods say you have come in search of wisdom," Mother Agnetha suddenly rasped out, her smoke-reddened eyes closing in relief. Raising a hand, she motioned to one of the villagers sitting behind her, her form slumping as she rolled her head. "They wish to speak to you. Both of you."

The villager, having retrieved a box of something, presented it to Mother Agnetha, making sure to keep his head low and his eyes on the ground as she took it.

Pulling a short pipe out of the container, she began stuffing a leafy substance into it, her fingers shaking some, a few red hives present on the back of her hand.

"What is that?" I whispered, leaning toward Tristan.

He shook his head, not answering, his eyes trained on the Mother, a shadow of distrust in them.

Having filled the pipe, Mother Agnetha set it in the fire, lighting it with ease, and then raised it to her lips, taking a long drag. The plant she was burning smelled odd and the smoke made me feel somewhat dizzy, but I remained where I was, uncertain that we were about to learn anything of importance.

Sucking in another generous dose of her drug, Mother Agnetha blew the smoke out into the air, swirling it around with her hand, murmuring to herself. This continued on for a good fifteen minutes, the lot of us watching her as she proceeded to ignore everything but the haze and the substance in her pipe.

Lightheaded, I blinked my eyes hard, suddenly feeling the urge to laugh. The odd notion made me panic and I glanced over at Tristan, whose eyelids kept flickering, a dazed expression on his face.

The Mother's mumbling stopped abruptly and she looked straight at me, eyes wide. Shaking so badly that the pipe flew from her fingers, it hit the dirt floor before rolling up against the hut's wall. The tremors moved through to the rest of her body, and kicking out from the force, she collapsed backward, seizing.

Horrified, I moved to help her, but found that I was frozen in place, not even able to open my mouth or blink. I could feel my breath bursting from my nose at a rapid speed, my heart racing as my muscles screamed in protest. It didn't matter, though. I was held in place by some awful contraption I couldn't see or understand.

It was then I abruptly realized the villagers were gone, leaving their priestess to writhe on the floor, her wide eyes somehow still locked on my face, mouth gaping open in a silent scream. Her necklaces were slapping against her, cutting into her skin, strangling her, as her foot fell into the coals and the smell of burning flesh filled the air.

Struggling, doing everything I could just to blink my eyes, I felt the panic trying to smother me. My body was attempting to shut down since it couldn't do anything, threatening to black out if it wasn't allowed to function as normal. The room was swimming, black dots dancing across my vision. I could feel the screech lodged in my throat, frozen in place like everything else.