Operation Vision Quest, OVQ, was a four-phase plan: breakout, stakeout, abduction, and break-in. I wore an all-black ensemble, as would be expected.

The breakout was from my own home, of course, and the easiest of the four. Having parked my car down the street earlier and claiming homework and aching muscles from the afternoon hike, I said an early good night to my mom and Stanley, who barely glanced up from their Masterpiece Mystery and shared popcorn bowl. It also helped that my mom was, in general, a respecter of the closed door.

Phases two and three were necessitated by the fact that Jinky didn’t have a cell phone, something to do with an exorbitant international plan. Nor did her host family have Internet or a listed phone number. Besides, I feared that any overt contact — a call to the house or knock on the door — would alert a meddlesome Marik. I’d had no choice, therefore, but to insert steps two and three. It was a delicious irony that they would be payback for a similar adventure last year in Iceland, one in which I was the victim, not the mastermind.

The stakeout wasn’t too difficult, either. In singling out Jinky’s window, I’d caught an eyeful of a shirtless Marik and a teeth-removing old man. Jinky’s, I therefore surmised, was the one with the closed curtains. A few stone throws — and dang if my aim and velocity weren’t dead on — and two flashlight pulses to the dark bob of hair in the window, and OVQ was moving on to phase three.

OK, so abduction may have been a bit of an overstatement. It wasn’t like I threw a bag over Jinky’s head or anything. But it was me at the wheel and with all the answers as we drove out to Alpenstock.

“And Jack said it was the site of a prehistoric settlement?” Jinky asked.

“Yes.”

“And the rocks, logs, and even the prayer bundles were all there?”

“Yes.”

“Good and good, but we’ll need to stop at the store.”

“For what?” I asked.

“Cigarettes.”

“Cigarettes! What? No way. We don’t have time. Besides, there’s no smoking in my car.”

“I’m not going to smoke in your car. But it’s a nonnegotiable point. We need to stop.”

I pulled into the next gas station and flicked my fingers against the bottom of the steering wheel as Jinky clomped into the convenience store. It pinched that my captive had “nonnegotiable demands,” but at least I was still in the driver’s seat.

I parked on an access road some distance away from the front entrance. It necessitated a small hike but would call far less attention to our presence. I cut the engine and lights and was more than a little surprised to be on the receiving end of instructions.

“Once we’re over that fence, I do all the talking,” Jinky said. “You got that?”

Uh, no. It was my mission, after all.

“I hardly think —”

“Exactly,” Jinky interrupted. “And what do you know about the hilly terrain in front of us and respect for spirit ancestors?” She didn’t even let me guess before continuing. “We’re about to set foot upon sacred land. Those look to be burial mounds. We will make our disruptions few and with a pureness of thought and action. And you will follow my lead in all things, OK?”

“OK,” I said, after which I clamped my mouth shut and breathed bull-like through my nose. The pureness of thought didn’t start until we were over the fence, which we weren’t yet. And I couldn’t wait to get on with the vision quest, phase four of my operation, because, besides hopefully providing some valuable information in saving Leira, an out-of-body experience would be preferable to stumbling behind Jinky in the black of night and abiding by her gag order.

Once over the fence, I did embrace a pureness of thought. I would have, anyway. From this approach, the place was oming with energy. Jinky took a zigzag course to the site, remaining at the lowest points of the terrain and never once stepping across or onto any of the hills.

At the recreated village, she set to work building a fire and, eventually, heating a few select melon-size rocks. It took a long time. As much as I was willing to assist, I didn’t know what to do, so I sat nearby thinking of my purpose in pursuing another vision quest. Of course, I wanted to protect Leira from Queen Safira. I also wanted to know if Brigid of Niflheim was a true threat. And, last, I sought to make sense of the brief message I’d relayed: “From the goddess Frigg, one seeks forgiveness and another offers life. Within them lies a solution.”

Finally, Jinky motioned me over to the fire. She silently pulled a cigarette from her pocket. I came very close to breaking my vow of silence to enact a no-smoking policy, but when she tore the paper and crumbled the tobacco onto her palm, I stood down.

Approaching the fire, she said, “Great Spirit, to this sacred fire we offer a gift from the Great Mother. May the smoke carry forth our request for guidance.” With this, she tossed the tobacco into the fire.

She next lit a prayer bundle of sage and performed the smudging ritual. When done, she passed it to me, and I copied her movements. I followed her to the entrance of the tiny tent, where we both removed our clothing. She went down to her bra and panties. I did the same, electing to retain my black cami as well. I was relieved when she made no sign of disapproval. We next ducked under the open flap and sat cross-legged facing the five hot stones that Jinky had already placed in the small center pit.

Pouring water onto the rock farthest away from the doorway, Jinky said, “We call to the Stone People Spirits of the West and welcome them.” With a hiss, steam poured forth and the tiny space was bathed in a cloying mist. She next poured water on the stone in front of me. “From the Northern Spirits of Courage, we seek guidance.”

More hot, hazy air filled the space, and I felt groggy and had a hard time focusing on even my hands in my lap.

I heard another blistering sizzle as Jinky said, “To the Eastern Spirits we offer our prayers.” Another spit of roiling vapors shot forth as she continued, “And may the Southern Spirits heal our bodies and calm our minds.”

My mind was definitely feeling calm — blissfully calm.

“And, finally, of our Spirit Grandfathers we ask for permission to walk with them in order to seek knowledge and wisdom.”

With the word “wisdom,” it felt as if — in a gush — I was particulate and floating upon the churning mist and through the open flap of the tent.