Page 247 of Hekate: The Witch (Goddesses of the Underworld #1)

Climbing a Golden Mountain

I had never been more grateful

to have the powers of a Goddess

than in the moment where we

turned damp pieces of wood

into torches with a touch.

If we were mortal, this would take

a hundred days or more,

but for Gods it was effortless.

Within moments of my suggestion

thousands of torches had been formed

and handed to the army behind us.

And this was when we began our climb.

From above, heavy marble pillars

fell past us, and the smell of sweet

ambrosian God-blood grew thick.

I felt a sickness as I climbed

and the smell of ichor and iron

grew stronger, reminding me of

Tartarus, where my father was trapped.

I was climbing a mountain full of his blood.

I pushed this thought away brutally

as the climb grew steeper

and we had to use our hands

as much as our legs to rise.

Finally, my hand reached up

and I touched cold, smooth floor.