Invisible Death

Olympus

The parlor was dimly lit, no direct light. The elegant lamps shone on the group gathered for coffee after dinner.

"I haven't eaten so much in a long time." Brennan suppressed a belch as best as he could, as he accepted the demitasse offered by the old black lady in white robes.

Sitting on the couch by his side, Shalimar drove an elbow to his ribs. Bren could gross her out, sometimes, but she was learning to love him. He had a thing for feline ferals, she thought.

Truth be told, Shalimar was also pleasantly full. Dinner had been unbelievable: fish steaks cooked in palm oil and coconut milk, served in a black clay pot, chicken stew with okra, and the most delicious roast beef, roasted to absolute perfection. Side dishes included vegetables and greens she barely knew, all exquisitely made. Shalimar would never forget dessert. She had tasted half a dozen different compotes, served with the fresh cheese made in the property. It was heaven on the dinner table.

She looked around. Emma and Jesse occupied winged chairs to her right. Donna was resting on the chaise in front, with Adam sitting at her feet. Blair Sandburgh had the swinging chair to her left. The old black lady, Babah, after serving coffee, sat on the floor at Blair's feet. By the look on Adam's face, Shalimar realized that was unusual. Babah was, after all, a servant. She shouldn't join the guests in conversation. But Shalimar also realized Babah was special. There was something almost... regal about her. She was, most definitely, not a common servant. The way she had greeted Blair when they were introduced at the veranda that morning... The old black lady had curtsied to each one of them as Adam said their names, but at Blair's turn, Babah had dropped to her knees and touched his feet with the tip of her fingers, saying something that sounded like "atoto". Blair, looking unfazed, had reached out with his hands and helped the old lady up. Next, as everybody else watched, he dropped to his knees and touched her feet, saying something that sounded like "saravah". Their greeting was strange, but oddly compelling. They looked like the pope and the head of the Greek Orthodox Church meeting. Now, this gathering felt like a summit.

Blair leaned forward, tilting the swinging chair. "Adam, I'd like to tell you why we are here."

From the chaise, Donna pulled out the oxygen mask. "I know why you're here. You came to say goodbye." Her voice could barely be heard.

"Actually, no, we're here to right a wrong."

At that, Babah tapped the floor next to Blair's feet three times, and said, "Atoto, medicine man," and nodded.

Blair turned his head to the old black lady sitting at his feet and respectfully tipped his head. "The high priestess knows what I'm talking about. Hallucinogen plants of all kinds have been used since the dawn of time to open the gates that lead from this palpable Universe we all know to the shadow spirit realm that exists parallel to our world. Their use is restricted to the highly initiated, the shamans, the druids, the medicine men and wise women, in short, to those who know what they're doing."

"When we breached the Vault in St. Mallot's Island, we entered it behind the state-of-the-art greenhouse," Adam interrupted. "I'm no botanist, but I've been to college in the late 1960s and I know a marijuana plant when I see it. And I remember mushrooms."

Blair set his cup of coffee on the side table, and took a deep breath, collecting his thoughts. "Did you notice any vines?"

Adam closed his eyes, remembering. "As a matter of fact, yes, I did."

Babah and Blair looked at each other and nodded one more time. "Ayahuasca. It's a hallucinogen vine employed by the Santo Daime followers to provoke 'mirações', or visions."