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“Guess you’re not a major enough god to have popped up in the histories,” I retorted. It had
called me stupid. I wasn’t a fan of being insulted during introductions.
“Now, now, Mormo. Be nice to the girl. She may yet prove useful to us.” This new arrival was in the bathroom, which remained in shadow, but her voice was entirely female.
As I waited for her to enter the room, I rolled the creature’s name around in my mind. Mormo, Mormo… Why did it sound like something I should know?
Then our new guest walked into the room.
“Fuck.”
“Double fuck,” Cade agreed.
Though our new arrival wasn’t as horrific on the eyes, she was a deeply troubling addition to the mix. It didn’t matter that she looked completely human, because standing next to Mormo it was obvious which one of the two was scarier.
“Hecate.” I pushed down on Cade’s arm, which was still wielding the knife. This was a situation where we’d do best to be as nonthreatening as possible. Hecate wouldn’t be afraid of us, but she would certainly remind us why we should be afraid of her.
“Hello.”
Was she here to fulfill Manea’s request, or did she have other reasons for doing a mystical B&E into our motel room? I sincerely doubted she’d send Mormo in first if she just wanted to have a friendly chat. The creature didn’t exactly instill a warm and fuzzy feeling in my chest.
Something much closer to an arrhythmia was squeezing my heart at the moment, giving me a lightheaded, sick feeling. Had I accidentally thought we’d made it through a whole day without trouble? This was what I got for mentally mocking the gods.
They loved to kick me when I was down, and then keep on kicking.
“You don’t look pleased to see me.” Her voice was difficult to come to terms with. It was soft and mellifluous but carried an unmistakable edge of malice. She wasn’t to be underestimated.
Hecate was the goddess of moonlight and magic, of ghosts and crossroads, both metaphorical and actual. The more I thought of it, the more logical it was for us to meet with her on this particular journey. The reason Mormo’s name sounded familiar was because it was deeply rooted in Hecate’s history. Mormo was a god in its own right, but subservient to Hecate, often existing only to ride her coattails.
The goddess stroked the creature’s monstrous face lovingly, then nodded towards the corner of the room, where it slunk away to merge with the shadows once more.
Though Mormo was still with us, now that I couldn’t see it, I felt safer.
So stupid.
“Are you going to kill us?” I was exhausted and fresh out of fucks. This trip had worn me down to my last nerve, and if we were going to die, I wanted to barter for Cade’s life and get this over with. Frankly this Leo kid was turning out to be more trouble than I thought he was worth.
If he was so important to Seth, why not have Sido pop up wherever he was living and rescue him? I was starting to think this was a convenient way for the temple to get rid of me and upgrade Seth to a more subservient Rain Chaser.
“What a boring question.” Hecate sat on the edge of the bed, turning her body towards us. Even sitting at a lower height, her presence loomed large.
There were lesser gods, and major gods, and being near her left no question which of the two she was.
Facing us, she resembled a beautiful woman, her skin russet with a bright copper hue. Her dark hair, blacker than mine, hung loose around her shoulders. She glanced towards Cade, and the angle changed her face completely, her smooth skin becoming rough and marred with deep wrinkles. Flecks of silver glinted in her hair, and her eyes took on a milky film.
Fen snarled from under the pillow, drawing her attention. Once again she changed, her cheeks becoming rounder, skin soft and free of blemishes. She looked like a little girl, no more than eight, in spite of the womanly shape of her body.
A shudder went through me.
The human shape taken by the gods was flexible and could differ depending on their audience. Seth, for example, had dozens of names and a face for each. Thor, Tlaloc, Iya…whatever mantle he was being called, he had an image to suit it. Beneath the faces, though, he was always the same god.
Hecate was the only one I’d seen who shifted her faces so readily, with every turn of cheek. She was the three-faced goddess: the maiden, the woman, and the hag. She represented the beginning and end of life with each shake of the head.
It was deeply disconcerting.
Looking at me head-on again, she smiled, drinking in my unease. Blessedly, unlike Badb, Hecate opted for straight, white, human teeth. It didn’t make her smile any less frightening.
“If I was going to kill you, I wouldn’t stop for a chat ahead of time. I happen to find Manea’s little vendetta to be petty and beneath immortal concern, but who can make death see reason?” She gave a half shrug and pulled Fen out from under the pillows without looking.
