Xavier
The incense smoke curled upwards, filling the hastily prepared ceremonial hall. Its sweet scent, usually just an annoyance, now made my stomach clench tight.
I’ve always hated strong smells. Right now, with the exhaustion from the attack and the effects of whatever medication they’d pumped into me, I just wanted this whole thing to be over.
I needed rest, badly.
They’d set up a symbolic cleansing mound of clay and straw, a mini tower surrounded by lanterns. The High Priest, a stooped figure in an ankle-length floral robe, circled it, ringing a bell meant to ward off evil spirits.
A lot of good that did, I thought bitterly. Evil had been breathing down my neck for months, and no amount of bell-ringing or sacrifices had warned anyone.
I stood stiffly before the altar. The deep
