The goddess made a sound of disapproval when she saw me. ‘Look at you. How have you let yourself come to this?’
I drew myself up as well as I could. ‘I come to your door to ask for your aid, a supplicant to Hekate Soteira, Hekate the Saviour.’
Hekate laughed. The dogs continued to pace in circles around us, sniffing the air. ‘That’s my favourite epithet, you know. You’ve arrived at the right place, son of Chaos,’ she continued. ‘Though I never thought I’d see one such as you at my door. Let us get you inside.’
Son of Chaosshe called me, as though I was some ordinary godling and not one of the primordial beings. I realized that I did not know exactly how old Hekate was. It seemed that she had always been here, dwelling at the margins of the world. Perhaps she stood by and watched when I emerged with the other gods from the abyss of Chaos, her two dogs sitting by her side.
Hekate gathered my cat self up in arms of surprising strength. I mewed in consternation but did not protest further. I was weary to the point of collapse, though I could still summon the strength to show my teeth when one of the dogs came too close.
She brought me into a kitchen that was small and covered in a thin layer of soot. I was appalled; I had never witnessed a divine dwelling that was sodirty. The shelves were jammed with leftover objects, amphorae and glass jars and other objects harder to place. Herbs of unrecognizable varieties hung from the ceiling in bunches, and the place had an oddly medicinal smell that set my teeth on edge. Gods did not, as a rule, require medicines.
Hekate deposited me onto a chair and set a steaming cup in front of me. I reverted to my true shape and wrapped my hands around it to soak in the warmth. My skin was desiccated, and my tendons stood out like the roots of a withered tree. I realized I must look like a skeleton wrapped in a thin gauze of flesh.
‘Drink that,’ Hekate said. ‘I need to talk to you, and you’re in no state for conversation.’
I wondered if the cup contained poison, or moly tincture, or some other noxious brew. Well, what did it matter? If Hekate wanted to reduce me to a stone, she didn’t need to make much of an effort.
I drained the cup. Its contents were strong and sweet and burned pleasantly on the way down. I thought I tasted a hint of ambrosia. I felt more solid when I had finished the drink, my purchase on the physical world strengthened.
Hekate took a seat and folded her hands, fixing me with a gaze that would make Zeus himself shudder. ‘Now, what is it that you want from me?’ she demanded. ‘I already know about the whole business with Aphrodite, so don’t waste time with that.’
I did not bother to ask how Hekate knew. The goddess of witchcraft does not need to name her sources.
‘If you know about that,’ I asked, ‘then why are you helping me?’
‘I have not yet decided that I will help you,’ Hekate replied. ‘You’ve caused a great deal of trouble, you know. There are more than a few who would like to see you squeezed in a jar for several thousand years.’
She let the words hang in the air for a moment before waving them away. ‘But as you must have known when you called me by one of my favourite titles, Soteira, I am partial to the underdog. Besides, what does Aphrodite think she can do tome?’ Hekate cackled, chapped lips peeling back to reveal teeth like shattered stones.
What couldanyonedo to Hekate, goddess of darkness and witchcraft? The whites of her eyes had gone yellow, and the raw flesh that rimmed them looked unpleasantly like ground meat. I could see her scalp through her thinning hair.
‘Help me find her,’ I begged. ‘Help me find Psyche, and give her apotheosis.’
My hands gripped the edge of the table like claws, white-knuckled, and my heart thundered in my ears. I understood the enormity of my demand – to make Psyche a goddess was a choice that could never be undone. But it was the only way forward.
‘You know how to craft the brew,’ I insisted. ‘I am certain you do. Nothing is beyond your capacities. Give Psyche apotheosis – that is all I ask.’
Hekate considered me for a moment, her gnarled face like a vision beyond time. ‘No,’ she said finally.
I brought my fists down on the table, making the cup jump. ‘Why?’ I demanded.
‘The two of you wouldn’t know what to do with apotheosis, and anyway, you have to summon the gods and hold a vote before brewing it. Quite the nuisance from start to finish.’
I laughed bleakly. ‘So you will do nothing?’
‘I never said that,’ Hekate replied sharply. ‘There are other ways to help the girl besides turning her into a goddess.’
One of the black dogs padded over and laid its head on Hekate’s lap. She reached down and stroked its head; the beast leaned into her touch and closed its eyes in pleasure. ‘Do you love her?’ Hekate asked suddenly, glancing at me. ‘This mortal wife of yours. Psyche.’
‘Of course. I have no choice,’ I replied. ‘Aphrodite’s curse has done its work.’
Hekate snorted. ‘Oh, you simpleton. The curse fell apart like a poorly made wagon right after Psyche brought that lamp into your bedroom. There’s not the faintest scent of it upon you.’
35
Eros
The curse was gone.
