The sound of dripping water echoed around them, and the scent of wet earth filled her nose the deeper they went. They stopped, and she stared in wonder at what was presented. A beautiful pool of crystalline water was right in front of them. She leaned forward, surprised to see steam coming up from the water.
“Earth heats water.” He crouched and scooped up a handful of the clear fluid.
“A natural hot spring,” she said and followed suit, squatting and touching the water. It was warm, so warm she wondered why he heated water in the hut instead of coming here and bathing.
“Hot spring,” he repeated her words in English, his accent so thick it was almost hard to tell what he said.
She looked at him and smiled. “Yeah. This must be a volcanic area, or this water and the rocks must be deep enough that it’s all heated from within.” She was speaking to herself, because she knew she spoke too fast in English for him to understand.
She was no expert in all of this, and certainly didn’t know this world or dimension, but that seemed like the most logical reasoning.
Hell, for all she knew, maybe there was some fire-breathing dragon in the bowels of this world, its fire causing this water to be this temperature. That thought was enough to have her smiling in amusement.
Then he stood and removed his coat, and she knew he brought her down here for more than one reason, and it wasn’t just to show her this incredible oasis.
16
It was like a soft brush of chilled air over her bare arm, a whisper in her ear, a feeling of being watched. It was those sensations that had Agata slowly opening her eyes, blinking, as the fire burning from the center basin was a little too bright right away, and looking around.
She thought for sure someone would be in the hut, knew they weren’t alone even though she couldn’t see anyone.
Getting up and slipping out from the heavy fall of Stian’s arm, she sat on the edge of the pallet and looked over her shoulder at him. He turned around, his big body rippling with power even though he was at rest. She grabbed one of the thinner blankets off the edge of the pallet and wrapped it around herself.
He was either a heavy sleeper, which she didn’t know if she believed, or she was dreaming. The latter made more sense, although this felt so real. She felt the warmth of the fire, felt the chill of the outside seep through the coarse burlap that covered the windows.
Wrapping the blanket around herself, she stood, looked at Stian once more, and then turned her gaze toward the door. She could leave again, just get dressed, grab what she could, and try to leave before Stian woke up. But this was a dream… right?
But she wasn’t a fool, knew she couldn’t make it out there with the temperature dropping, the night having fallen, and who knew what lurked in the shadows. Besides, there was something shifting inside her, something that said she liked being wrapped up in Stian’s arms.
Another part of her said she couldn’t stay here. She needed to find out where she was and how to get home.
The wind picked up, howling through the cracks in the hut, threatening to burst the place down no matter how strong it was. She went over to one of the windows, pulled the burlap aside, and looked into the murky darkness. Stian made a noise, and she looked at the pallet.
But there she was, lying right beside him, his big hand on her hip, his fingers curled into her skin. He whispered something deep and sleep-filled against her neck, and even though she stood feet from the bed, clearly dreaming all this, she swore she felt the sensation of his breath along her flesh.
“You have acclimated nicely to this world, child.” The woman’s voice came from right beside her, and Agata turned and stared at the elderly woman she’d seen at the festival. That seemed so far away now, so distant and surreal.
“You sent me to this place,” Agata said without question.
The woman smiled. “Child, you’re right where you need to be.”
“Where am I, a different part of Norway or something? I’m clearly out in the middle of nowhere with people who think it’s in style to live like they did centuries ago.” Agata rubbed her hands over her arms, the blanket doing nothing to keep the cold out. “I didn’t ask for this.”
The old woman looked at where Stian slept. “We realize what we’ve always needed only when the risk of losing it is presented,” she said in this cryptic voice and went to stare at Agata with those creamy white eyes again. “But when we are given the opportunity to see it for ourselves, experience it, then we see that it is what we’ve been missing.”
Agata thought on those words. “What in the hell are you talking about? You drugged me, shipped me off to this place where Stian keeps—well, kept—me chained up, where villagers would like to skin me over my association with that Viking.” God, she was arguing with this woman in her dream. Closing her eyes, she shook her head.
This was too bizarre. This whole situation was strange.
“Did you not tell me you wished for something else?”
Agata closed her eyes again and rubbed her forehead.
“You are in the In-Between, child, and if you truly were unhappy, you’d have no trouble leaving here. You’d be given the chance to escape of your own free will.” The woman continued to stare at her. “You’d be shown the way out, but only if you truly want to leave.”
“This is crazy,” she whispered. “I can’t understand him, and up until last night, I have tried to escape. I don’t want to be here.” But as the words left her mouth, this strange feeling overcame her. Did she really mean what she said?
She looked around the small hut, thought on the fact that in this short time, she learned where everything was, and the schedule Stian kept as he worked day and night. To say this was a simpler life was an understatement. If anything, it was worse, harder, more brutal. The people within it killed with little provocation.
“So you’re telling me you sent me to some kind of alternate universe?” Agata shook her head. “This is so damn crazy,” she said for the hundredth time since being dropped in the Twilight Zone.
“The In-Between, child.” The older woman pointed to Stian. “If he wasn’t who you truly belonged with, you wouldn’t have been given to him.”
Given to him?
“Enjoy the freedom of not having to pretend, child.”
“None of this makes sense.” She spoke to herself. “Are you a witch or something?” God, Agata sounded so ridiculous, felt stupid for even engaging in this conversation.
But the truth was, she was here, having this conversation with a woman in her dreams, knowing she was no longer in her time, and so she had no option but to accept what was happening until it could be changed.
The woman grabbed a small, coin-purse-sized satchel from one of the pockets in her oversized cloak and handed it to Agata.
“You are not a prisoner.”
“Try telling Stian that,” Agata said and grabbed the satchel.
“The warrior has had a bad life, one nobody should endure no matter what plane you live in.” The old woman nodded to the satchel. “If you truly want to leave, then all you have to do is dump those contents in water and drink it. Same as before, but, child, you must really want to leave, deep in your bones, in your very soul.”