The sailors on the deck hollered in confusion, unable to tell if the creatures were friend or foe. Some of them began diverting their attention from the sea serpent heads and began fighting with the snakes as they landed at their feet.
“Stop it!” Aeëtes yelled at them, his voice hoarse. His body was drenched with sweat, his sword knocked out of his grip long ago, and he was currently holding open the jaws of a serpent with his bare hands. “They won’t harm you!” Pelias turned at the sound of Aeëtes’s voice and ran across the deck, tossing his sword in the eye of the serpent. It immediately let go of Aeëtes with a massive cry, slipping off the ship and disappearing into the dark waters.
“Next time you show up with a goddess,” Pelias panted, leaning down to help Aeëtes to his feet as they grabbed their weapons, “you better bring me Aphrodite.” Aeëtes laughed and both men grinned, wiping sweat from their brows and charging back into the fray.
In the sky above them, Hecate’s power was winding around the body of the Scylla, murmuring in quiet, low tones that Hera fought to understand.
“What are you doing?”she shrieked, thrashing around and causing the Scylla’s body to shake back and forth. The motion caused another wave to crash over the side of the ship, sending another few men right off the other side and into the depths.
“You may control this body, Hera,” Hecate’s voice was now audible, sending ricochets of power through the air as the tri-voice spoke, “but this body was not always a monster.”
The whirls of magic kept winding around the Scylla’s body, whose eyes began to flicker like a flame, from red to black and back again. She let out another screeching cry, a couple of the sea serpent’s heads retreating into the sea as she started to sink.
Hecate kept chanting, murmuring something beyond the realm of comprehension, words that were engraved on the veil between words. Her face flickered between the virgin, the maiden, and the crone, each one taking center stage as she reigned above them. There was another cry ripped from the mouth of the Scylla. This time it was Hera’s voice, who began cursing Hecate as she felt her control beginning to fade. No power over a woman in trouble was greater than Hecate’s, and hers ran over the Scylla like warm hands, bit by bit, as she chased away the remnants of Hera’s influence.
The last remaining sea serpent slipped into the water until only the woman-half remained, slowly shrinking. Hecate’s voice was now filled with dulcet tones, soft songs, almost like a lullaby. Her own body began to sway, and she shrank, too, until she was standing on the deck in her mortal form. The Scylla’s eyes rolled back into her head as she collapsed backwards, crashing into the sea, now only the size of a horse.
The sailors began to cheer, but only Aeëtes and Pelias turned to look at Hecate. She was walking with a steady pace towards the edge of the ship, her eyes not disappearing off the spot where the Scylla had sunk. Her lips were still moving while the evidence of her immortal form slowly flickered out. When she reached the edge, she held a hand up over the water, repeating something that only she would recognize. The entire crew was now silent, their celebrations muted as they watched Hecate’s actions, something dawning on them that this was not over.
The deck was slick with blood and saliva, the open jaws of the sea serpent’s still fresh in their minds. But still, they watched. There was no one more transfixed than Aeëtes, who felt himself pulled to Hecate like she was home. Hecate dropped her hand and stepped back. A sudden geyser shot up from the sea floor, taller than the sails. The spray drenched the ship but did not sink it as the sailors held up their hands over their eyes to protect themselves. The burst of water quickly lost its inertia and dropped back down towards sea level, and as it retreated, Aeëtes squinted against the setting sun. On the top of the sea foam, there was the unconscious body of a woman.
There wasn’t a sound on deck as the water gently rocked against the boat and deposited the woman on its deck. She was a beautiful maiden, no older than twenty, with long, black hair that provided her modesty. Hecate turned to the closest soldier and snapped her fingers, and he immediately removed his shirt and handed it to her. She stepped towards the woman and knelt down. The heads of the virgin and the crone were gone, and only Hecate remained. Her eyes were no longer flickering red with power, but were their mortal blue, full of kindness.
She helped ease the woman into the shirt, both of them still drenched to the bone, but now at least covered. Hecate cradled her to her chest as if she was a babe.
Pelias jerked his head in the direction of the galley, wise enough to know a private moment when he saw one. The sailors moved slowly, begrudgingly, wanting to see what happened next but not stupid enough to cross Hecate after what they had just seen. Only Aeëtes remained on deck, watching respectfully from a few yards away.
“Sweet Scylla,” Hecate sang, and the woman opened her eyes. She took in the face of the goddess and gasped, sitting up so quickly that she was woozy. “Ssh, easy. Don’t move too fast. You haven’t been in your human form for years.”
Aeëtes’s eyes got wide as he realized what had happened. Everyone knew the legend of Scylla, the dread sea monster, but her origin story was the true horror. Scylla had been, and was now again, a young maiden. She often worked near the sea and had been pledged to Triton, Poseidon’s son and a demi-god. A jealous nymph had turned her into the sea creature, and while Triton and Poseidon had put her to death for her crimes, they hadn’t been able to figure out the spell by which the nymph had done it.
Hera must have controlled Scylla and brought her…straight to the one goddess who could reverse the spell.Aeëtes’s felt a rush of warm pride go through him as he watched Hecate, gently answering all of Scylla’s confused questions and helping her sit upright. Aeëtes sprang into action, fetching a satchel of fresh water and bringing it over to Hecate. He approached slowly, not wanting to threaten the frightened Scylla, and handed it to Hecate.
She accepted it warmly, with a surprised look in her eyes. While she was preoccupied at present, she couldn’t help but feel a twinge in her heart when she saw how Aeëtes leapt to help her.
Men never did that in Hecate’s line of work.
“Thank you.” She nodded quietly before helping Scylla drink its contents. They were silent as Scylla rested, trying to comprehend what had happened to her, when there was a sudden burst of fresh air. The wind whipped around the mast, bringing with it the scent of salt and citrus, and Hecate sat up a little straighter.
“Poseidon,” she called out, “I do believe that this young woman is eager to see you.” Scylla sat up in Hecate’s arms, scooting away from her, a smile etching its way across her face for the first time.
“Poseidon?” she echoed Hecate, Aeëtes hearing her speak for the first time. There was a flash of light, and when it faded, there was Poseidon, standing on the deck of the ship.
Aeëtes’s face flushed and his eyes got wide, trying to not react in the presence of one of the brothers. Poseidon was everything that a god of the sea would be, from his beard to his coral bracelets and his tunic that seemed to be made of water. He held a trident in one hand, but he dropped it upon seeing the face of Scylla.
“Sweet Scylla! My daughter!” He rushed forward, scooping the woman up to her feet and wrapping her in a hug like a father would with a lost child. Hecate got to her feet and walked towards Aeëtes, slotting herself into his side as his arm wrapped around her. They tried to give the pair a little privacy, but it was hard not to watch the moment unfurl.
“How is Triton?” Scylla finally asked when she pulled away, her face simultaneously full of hope and fear. Poseidon only smiled, pushing some of the wet hair off her forehead.
“He has waited for you every day. There will be great rejoicing in the chasms and currents of the sea when you are reunited—and shall be married, as soon as possible, to avoid any more…unpleasantness.”
Scylla burst into tears again and buried her head in Poseidon’s chest, as if she had been holding onto some fear that after so much time, the engagement would be off. The God of the sea held her for a precious minute longer before looking over her head at Hecate.
“Goddess.” He bowed his head, and Aeëtes nearly squawked at seeing one of the brothers defer to Hecate. There was no end to the respect that she was owed—he believed that wholeheartedly—but he trusted no man or god to give it to her. Except himself.
Which he was trying to prove.
“Poseidon.” Hecate smiled, looking at Scylla and the god. “Do tell me what is known of Hera and her pursuits?”
