Page 209 of Hekate: The Witch (Goddesses of the Underworld #1)

Other Things Take Root

Despite Hades’ unsettling visit

I became lost in my work of witchcraft.

I realized I preferred my apothecary

more than necromancy,

my poisons and their antidotes,

basting and anointing, grating

and pasting. Every plant and tree,

even the crystals and rivers, hummed

with untapped power and potential.

I grew more and more lost in my work.

Until one day Thanatos visited

and asked me, ‘Do you not think it is time

that you, too, are given worship

and libations to strengthen

your godhood?’ I frowned at this,

still mixing sleepy mugwort, airy dandelions

and the drowsy waters of Lethe into a paste

that helped craft dreamless sleep.

I had an apothecary full of potions

I had made to become better at my craft.

Witchcraft was work, practised every day.

‘I have no need for those things,’

I scoffed. Thanatos shook his head.

‘All Gods require prayer, Hekate.

It is what makes our immortality

tolerable, as it reinforces our power.’

It was odd how my name from his lips

always made my heart beat quicker.

I tried to ignore this by staring

down at the paste as I responded,

‘And how do you propose I start

acquiring libations and prayers?’

His eyes were more tired today

than I had ever seen them before.

‘Join me at the battlefields of Troy.

The sick and wounded could use

your help.’