“Raquel,” I answered in a whisper.
“Mama, I don’t like it here.”
My eyes flew to the horizon and I found her small body hunched over. She was scratching at the wet sand with a stick, her hair a dark curtain hiding her face. I scrambled to my feet and rushed toward her, but when I was three steps away, she lifted her sweet little face to me.
“Don’t come here, mama. You won’t like it, either.”
And she was gone. I stepped closer to where she had been and stopped short as I saw the word that she had etched out in the sand.
HELL.
But before I could process that, blood seemed to pour from the sky, raining onto me and coloring the river red. It soaked my clothes and washed away my daughter’s writing. I shook my head in horror and whirled around, trying to see in every direction at once.
“It’s not real,” I whispered. “It’s not.”
As if in contradiction, a trickle of blood ran across my foot, streaming down the wet sand until it dumped into the river.
“It’s not real,” I insisted. I knew I was talking to myself, that regardless of my visions, no one else was here with me. Yet still, the hair on the back of my neck remained raised and the goose bumps still clung to my arms. I blinked my eyes hard and when I re-opened them, the blood was gone. Why had all of my visions of late involved so much blood? I could only imagine that it had some significance, but what?
As I pondered that, a long, thick green speckled snake slithered out of the river and coiled itself in front of me. I quickly stepped back, but before I could scream, two more had joined it, and then three more and then five. Snakes were coming from everywhere…crawling from the river and dropping from the trees.
I could hear the smooth rustle of their bellies against the wet ground as they congregated around me. Every reptilian head was pointed toward me, each slitted eye fixated on me.
The snake in front raised its head and hissed.
“Liessss.”
The rest of them raised their heads in unison, swaying in the breeze as they all hissed.
“Liesssss.”
It seemed to echo in the night, their hissing lisps resounding in my head as I backed away from them and tried to scramble to safety. In my haste, I tripped on a fallen branch and sprawled halfway into the murky water before dragging myself back out and looking over my shoulder.
The snakes were gone.
Breathing raggedly, I propped myself against the bank of the Acheron and crossed my legs in front of me. I happened to notice that my foot was blood-spattered…evidence that my visions had truly happened. I wasn’t crazy. I wasn’t sure if that was a relief or not. I might actually prefer to be crazy.
I leaned my head back against the spindly river grass and closed my eyes.
When I opened them again, it was daylight and I wasn’t alone.
A large owl, probably the one I had heard in the night, was standing a few feet away from me, watching me as I slept with sharp amber eyes. I shook the sleep from my eyes and studied it.
From all appearances, it seemed to be a normal owl. But I knew from the rapt attention it was paying me that it was anything but normal.
“What do you want?” I asked impatiently. I had had it with avian messengers.
It blinked its round eyes at me, but remained silent.
“Well?” I demanded. “What do you want?”
It suddenly shrieked and unfurled its wings, startling me.
And then I was falling. And falling. And falling.
I hit the ground in a sprawl and looked around in confusion. Blackness was everywhere. People were crying and moaning and crawling along the ransacked ground. It was a scene that could have been taken from a horrifying apocalyptic movie. And then there was the blood.
A river of blood ran in the middle of the cracked, dry ground. The rusty smell filled my nostrils and I cringed as I climbed to my feet.
A hollow-eyed, hunched over man stood in front of me as he grinned wickedly with yellowed teeth.
“You are betrayed,” he crooned eerily. “You will be betrayed… You have been betrayed…. You are betrayed.” He was singing in an evil voice as he crept away from me and I could hear him even as he disappeared from my sight. “Betrayed.”
Icy hands from the bodies crawling along the ground gripped at my ankles and I swatted them away.
And then I was standing back by the Acheron in the same spot where I had been.
I was upright, on my feet, in broad daylight. I looked around in disorientation. I had never left. I had been here all along- but now the owl was gone. What the hell was happening to me?
Dizziness consumed me and I closed my eyes. It was just too much. Even with my eyes closed, the world was spinning and I lost my hold on reality. I fell onto the wet sand and my last conscious thought was of a hissing whisper.
“Betrayed.”
Chapter Three
“Harmonia.”
I could hear someone through a dark pool, calling my name. I moved away, curling up on the ground. I didn’t want any part of even one more crazy vision.
“Harmonia,” the voice was clear and melodic. And vaguely familiar.
I reluctantly opened my eyes to find a white blur in front of me amidst a sea of blurred objects. I blinked hard and tried again. Still blurry.
I stubbornly held my eyes open and a woman slowly came into focus.
Hecate.
I could’ve cried from relief. The rest of the group quickly came into focus behind her. Cadmus looked only slightly worse for the wear as he swept in and pulled me into his arms.
“Are you alright?” he asked anxiously, quickly giving me the once over. I nodded, although when I did, the world started spinning again and I closed my eyes.
“The dizziness will pass,” Hecate said knowingly. “But now our minds and hearts are unpolluted. We are free to seek the Oracle. Attempt to keep a clear mind- do not think on anything that troubles you.”
That was more difficult than it sounded. I instantly wanted to ponder my disturbing visions, so I had to fight to keep them at bay. But I could think on them later. For now, I grasped Cadmus’ arm tightly.
“Are you well?” I asked quietly, reaching up to smooth his dark hair into place.
“I am much better now, my love,” he smiled.
“Have we truly been here for two entire days? I think I’ve slept most of the time.” I looked around in bewilderment. Aphrodite looked as disheveled as I felt. She nodded in agreement.
“I feel the same,” she admitted, smoothing out the pleats in her short, belted skirt. “This has not been a pleasant experience, Hecate.”
“I never said that it would be,” Hecate replied grimly. “And I fear it will not get any better. Come now, let us go.”
I took a few faltering steps, but my legs felt like rubber and I paused.
“Hecate, what did you give us? I feel as weak as a newborn baby.”
She appraised me for a moment thoughtfully before answering.
“The herbs would not have left you so bereft, Chosen One. I believe it has been the strength of your visions that has drained you. You will regain your strength soon- you are strong.”
I nodded, but still didn’t feel confident enough to take another step.
Cadmus bent and slipped his arms under my knees, lifting me to his chest just like an infant.
“Rest, my love,” he instructed as he climbed the steep hillside with me in his arms.
“This isn’t necessary,” I protested. But even as I spoke, I rested my head against his hard chest. I knew Hecate was right. Worse things were to come. I might as well rest in the comfort of my husband’s arms while I could.
We quickly reached the top of the hill and we stood in a quiet group outside of the ruins. It was completely silent and still and I felt the hair lift on the back of my neck. Cadmus gently set me down and I stood uncertainly next to him.
“What do we do now?” I asked.
“We summo
n her,” Hecate answered simply. Walking purposefully in front of us, she bypassed the ruins and stood behind it, directly in front of a large urn-like vessel. It was ancient, that much was apparent. I had the feeling it had survived thousands of years in this spot.
“We must offer her something of relevance,” Hecate said without turning around. “Harmonia, come here.”
Cadmus released my arm and I stepped forward hesitantly. The tone of Hecate’s voice unnerved me. It was cold and perfunctory.
“Harmonia, you must know that your blood is significant. Have your visions attested to that?” Hecate asked, her blue eyes glittering.
“There has been quite a lot of blood in my visions, yes,” I confirmed. “But not necessarily mine. Just... blood.”
Hecate smiled a haunting smile, her face so wise and knowing. I was reminded once again that she was very, very old, older even than Zeus himself. It was easy to sometimes forget that because she seemed so young and beautiful. But when she spoke, those around her should certainly listen. Her magic was powerful, her wisdom revered. She watched me now, her vibrant blue eyes glittering.
“Ah, young one. Blood is relevant no matter what the situation is. It is who we are. There is much to be learned from someone’s blood. Their heart, their identity, their purpose. Particularly in matters pertaining to the gods because there is always such deceit. Blood can reveal the truth. But in your case, it will always be a key.”
She turned to look at me, her face calm and impassive.
“Come forward, Harmonia.”
She extended her hand and I took it, stepping forward until I stood directly in front of the peeling, clay urn. Hecate flipped up the hem of her skirt and pulled a dagger from the belt around her thigh. I stiffened as she turned my arm over.
Quickly, she sliced a short cut in the heart of my phoenix mark and held it over the mouth of a silver cup. My blood dripped into the cup and I tried not to flinch as I stood still and watched it. After what seemed like forever, she dropped my arm. Moving forward, she set the silver goblet into the urn and stepped back.
“Close your eyes,” she instructed us without turning around.
Trustingly, we all did as she asked, listening to her guttural, incoherent chants.