Aeëtes watched on and Hecate began to change. She also started to expand, standing taller and taller as her eyes rolled back into her head, and the faces of the maiden and the crone vanished. Every bone in her body emerged through her skin, like breaking the surface of water, settling there. It happened slowly, first her fingers, then her arms and legs, until the bones fortified, and Hecate was wearing armor made of her own skeleton.
Her hair turned white, and her cheekbones became more pronounced, her brow changing until Aeëtes realized that she was wearing a death mask of her own face. The triple moon circlet that she wore around her forehead twisted, morphing into finger bones that were so translucent, they looked like they were made of moonlight. They stood straight up towards the sky, making a crown of death and stardust. Hecate let her head fall back and she let out a massive wail, a deep, baritone sound that shook the Underworld. The incantations and snakes that were inked on her skin turned black, falling off her like dust. A cloud of ashes encompassed her, cold fire burning in her eyes. She began to weep, and when each tear hit the earth beneath her, a shade sprung up in its place.
Aeëtes couldn’t pull his eyes off her, not even to see what Hera or Thanatos were doing. Hecate’s feet lifted off the ground until she was writhing in midair. Cold winds began blowing over the fields around them, shades and ghosts appearing beneath her as she continued to weep. In that moment, she was nothing—she was not alive, not dead; she was balanced somewhere on the precipice between total destruction and rebirth. Aeëtes watched on as the souls of the dead began amassing around her, none of them moving, all of them waiting for the command of one creature—the necromancer.
The goddess who could speak with the dead.
Hecate’s body twisted. She was standing up, gently lowering herself down until her feet touched the ground. Her clothes had vanished, but her skin was obscured with rows and rows of black script. The words kept moving and changing so quickly that Aeëtes didn’t know what they were…until somehow, he knew. They were the names of the dead. Every one. Every name since the dawn of time, inked onto her skin as if waiting to be chosen and called upon.
Hecate was staring at Hera, who Aeëtes now realized was screaming. She had fallen to her knees and was crawling away from Hecate as best as she could, pulling herself along the ground. Hecate took one step towards Hera, and she threw her hands up in fear, covering her eyes.
“Ah, there it is.” Thanatos made a tsk sound, getting Aeëtes’s attention. His eyes gleamed as he looked down at Aeëtes, winking. “I was so hoping that this would be how I’d get to spend my day.”
Aeëtes was dumbfounded. Thanatos leaned down, and Aeëtes felt himself shrinking back subconsciously.
“Do you want to know what happened to the shade that broke Hecate’s heart after Hades gave me permission?” Thanatos was grinning maniacally, but his voice was cool as metal. Aeëtes found himself nodding, even though he wasn’t entirely sure that he wanted to know.
“I ate it,” Thanatos whispered, but then a glimpse of his previous demeanor showed through. “Whoever breaks the necromancer’s heart,” he warned Aeëtes again, “surely gets eaten by the God of death.”
Aeëtes felt a chill shake his whole body; there was no ending more finite. Everyone met Thanatos once. To meet him twice, was to die again and never return. Aeëtes could only nod, and then Thanatos disappeared in a cloud of black smoke. He watched on as those black clouds raced over the fields towards Hera and Hecate, suddenly enveloping Hera’s body entirely. There was another massive clap of thunder as lightning struck the field. The earth shook as the storm raged, the ghosts of a thousand souls still standing around them, waiting for their command.
The smoke was gone—along with any trace of Hera and Thanatos. Aeëtes stood on shaky legs, his eyes solely focused on Hecate. Slowly, she turned to look at him. He knew that she could see him, even from a distance, and he met her gaze head-on.
He didn’t recognize the goddess in front of him, but he didn’t care. He knew it was Hecate, and that was enough.
Aeëtes took one step towards her, but for the second time that day, everything went black.
34
When Aeëtes blinked his eyes open, the first thing he noticed was that the air didn’t smell like rotting flowers anymore. The second thing that he noticed was the soft, soothing sensations of fingers running through his hair. He was warm, so, sowarm,and he leaned into the touch. After everything that he had witnessed, how he had felt the temperature drop around him and the chills that had taken over his body, nothing felt better.
If this is death, I don’t care if I ever breathe again.Aeëtes’s vision slowly came into focus, and he realized he was still in the fields, closer to the riverbank now. He was unmistakably in Hecate’s lap, and those were her fingers moving across his scalp, in the sweetest touch that he had ever known. His mind short-circuited for a second, and everything came rushing back to him.
“Hecate!” He tried to sit up, but she placed a hand on his shoulder. Aeëtes twisted in her lap until he could look up at her face, seeing that she had returned to her mortal body. His brow furrowed in concern. There was something in her eyes that he didn’t understand. She seemed almost…resigned, sad.
“What happened?” Aeëtes was confused, but she kept stroking him like she never wanted to let go. Hecate was sitting up straight, one hand running over his hair and down his jaw, the other holding onto a small, earthen clay cup. Her hair was the same auburn shade that he had grown accustomed to, a few braids running through it. His eyes ran over her as he tried to evaluate her for any injury, but he saw nothing, even her peplos was tied neatly.
“Everything’s fine,” she said with a small smile that didn’t reach her eyes. Aeëtes was immediately skeptical of it. He didn’t like it. Hecate had never lied to him. She had struggled to be vulnerable with him, but she had never lied to him—and this wasn’t her. Something was terribly wrong.
“I know you haven’t spent a lot of time in the mortal world, but are you aware that that is what humans say when everything is absolutelynotfine?”
Hecate chuckled, but it still managed to be a sad sound, and Aeëtes watched a tear fall down her cheek.
“What happened—” He tried to sit up, but Hecate kept him in her lap, her immortal strength overpowering him. He wasn’t complaining, but he stared at her face, trying to understand what was wrong.
“Please tell me,” he tried again, his voice growing a little more frantic. “Whatever it is, I promise, we can figure it out.”
Hecate nodded, and it briefly eased the tension in Aeëtes’s chest. She tilted his head up and brought the cup closer to him.
“Have some water, and then we can talk about it.” Hecate’s tone was encouraging as she brought it closer to his lips, and Aeëtes leaned forward, ready to accept it. It seemed a normal enough request until a million things came rushing back to him just as he felt the cool clay against his skin. His hand flew up and grabbed Hecate’s wrists, pulling it away from his face. She was stunned by the sudden movement, allowing Aeëtes to sit up and move out of her lap. He stared at her, his eyes going wide and feeling his body begin to tense. Aeëtes was still holding onto her wrist, both of them staring at the incriminating cup in Hecate’s hand.
“Hecate…” Aeëtes’s voice was gravelly. “Tell me that’s not water from Lethe.”
She looked away from him, her tears falling freely now as she couldn’t meet his eyes. Aeëtes dropped her wrist and stood up, the cup falling to the ground and spilling at his feet. He forced himself to breathe, feeling betrayal and heartbreak all wrapped up in one sickening sensation. Aeëtes started to pace, unable to keep his hands still, flexing them into fists and releasing repeatedly.
After everything that we’ve been through, after finally admitting that shelovedme… How could she do this?
He looked over at Hecate and was ready to demand answers, and he saw her on the ground. She had remained there, with her knees pulled up to her chest, sobbing softly. No matter how angry he was, it was a sight that he couldn’t get over, and he got on his knees before her again.
