Maiden Grim | A Pjo Fanfic

Ch. 18: The Gods Vote How To Kill Us

Isra stood between a crossroads. She recognized the place. Hecate had taken her here before, but she couldn't recall exactly why. Three cobblestone paths extended before her. They stretched put and disappeared into the swirling mist.

In her left hand, Isra held a lit reed torch. She lifted it up and willed the light of the flame to extend. The Mist swirled away and formed a dome. It was like the torch was protecting her. Soon as she had that thought, Isra knew it was true.

Everything was becoming much clearer after Atlas and her brief flashback. The Nereid must have casted a spell on the necklace she had given Isra. Knowledge had flowed into her mind. Before, Isra felt like an empty pit within her mind and now there was a cool pool there she could pull from.

This was her mother's crossroads. Isra had toed the line of death once to be welcomed into this place. But this was only a dream of the crossroads. The living couldn't enter Hecate's private domain.

Hecate...

Why was Isra here? She searched the paths and focused. Holding her torch at each junction, her torch rose higher for only one. Isra walked down that path to find her mother.

She walked for a long time. The mist formed half-familiar figures. They whispered into her ears imploringly, but Isra blocked their pleas from her mind. Ghosts patrolled the streets without torches. They were the only ones other than Hecate that could. Isra thought she saw empousai flying overhead, but they never drew close enough for her to be certain.

Eventually the path dipped downward and Isra traveled further, to finally stand before a yawning cave. Torches lined the entrance on either side. There were none to the light the path inside. Isra could always see better than others in the dark, but even she couldn't see what was at the end.

For some reason, she didn't feel afraid. Isra held a lot of complicated feelings about her mother. Yet one thing remained true. Hecate cared for her and inside her domain, Isra was a hundred percent certain she would protect her.

So Isra walked inside confidently. The inside was craggy. Glimmering stalactites hung from the ceiling. It was a spacious cave. At least fifteen feet tall and growing higher.

The air became moist at a certain point. Water dripped down and worms lighted up the cave with a faint blue glow. She let her torch guide her through the many tunnels. Ghosts and shrouded attendants drifted past her. Whenever Isra tried talking to them they'd just ignore her.

Finally the path opened up into a large chamber. The ceiling was hundred feet high. Shelves were carved in the dark stone walls. Various magical paraphernalia were stored on them. Labeled boxes of herbs, jars of liquids with preserved specimens, and potions and poisons. Crafting tools, their names popping into her head one after the other.

Oil lamps filled the room with gentle light. On the central dais, was a giant cauldron bubbling and smoking orange. An even more giant woman sat on a three-legged stool by the brew. She was thirty-five feet tall, at minimum. She was hidden by gray cloak made from mist. The fabric shifted like smoke and images of hounds, lions, polecats, and snakes and frogs swirling at the hem.

Similar mysterious maidens moved about the room. They retrieved various ingredients seemingly at random. All of them were normal height and had to use a stepstool to add them to the cauldron.

Isra walked up to the cauldron and sat by her mother's feet. "What are you making?"

Hecate continued to stir with a tall ladle. "Happiness in a bottle."

She blinked. "Why?"

The goddess shrugged. "It sells well amongst immortals. One of my most popular concoctions." She chuckled, "The Charites hate me for it." Hecate drew the ladle out and tapped the excess on the cauldron's rim. "This will be my last batch I believe."