“This journey, or the metaphorical journey of my life?” Clarity, as always, was key here.
Hecate looked annoyed at my interjection, but said, “The latter.”
“And what does this metaphorical crossroads have to do with the here and now?”
“Nothing. But it will be important, because you are important, whether you realize it now or not. So when the time comes that you reach that juncture, the direction you take will be up to me. That’s my request.”
I stared at her.
If I was understanding correctly, she was saying that one day I’d need to make a difficult and important choice, and she was going to make it for me.
There was no way I wouldn’t regret this.
“Fine.” I huffed out a sigh, hoping she’d register I wasn’t thrilled.
Not that she’d care.
“Tallulah, don’t,” Cade warned. “Think about this.”
“I think if we don’t find Leo, we’re fucked anyway and I’ll be dead before I reach the point she’s talking about, so what does it matter? Giving up this choice means I might actually live long enough to regret it. And you’ll live long enough to tell me you told me so.”
“See? Smart. I like her.” Hecate set the sleeping fennec down on a pillow, and he didn’t stir. She patted the place on the comforter beside her and beckoned me forward. “Let me show you the way.”
“Ssssee the path,” Mormo goaded.
I was enjoying this situation less and less with each passing second.
Hecate was going to put her hands on me, and I did not particularly want to let her do that, no matter that she seemed like she was on our side. I touched the bracelet Badb had given me, hoping that if Hecate or Mormo tried anything when my guard was down, it would do what the Morrigan sister had promised me it would.
Though the promises of fickle gods had about as much value as wooden nickels.
Twisting myself free of Cade’s grip, I took the offered spot next to Hecate, careful to leave space between us. Sweat beaded along my forehead and down my back. If the gods could smell fear, they’d have no doubt I was swimming in it right now.
She lifted both hands towards me, and I flinched as if she’d tried to slap me.
“You don’t trust me, do you?”
“No.”
Hecate laughed, lowering her chin slightly and giving me a glimpse of the hag aspect. The old woman’s sagging flesh shook with each chuckle. Combined with her still-firm body, it was unsettling and did nothing to bolster my trust.
“Too bad.” She clamped her hands on my temples, her fingernails digging into my scalp just hard enough to hurt but not enough to draw blood.
My breath escaped me in a painful gasp.
In a flash, the room, the bed, Cade, and Mormo were all gone. I was alone with Hecate, and we were standing on a dusty road, ensconced in the black stillness of night.
“Where am I?” I was struggling to breathe, each word a labor.
“This is the night road.”
“Fuuuuuuuck this.” I wrenched myself free of her, but it was useless. Even without her hands on me the road didn’t fade away. We were alone, and I wasn’t getting out of here until she decided it was time for me to go.
The night road was a myth, somewhere humans were never supposed to see.
Ghosts used the night road to travel to or from their final resting places, be it the underworld or onto the next stage of their being. The time beyond life was deeply uncertain. All I knew was I wasn’t dead yet, so I had no desire to be somewhere where everyone around me was.
“Don’t fight it,” Hecate said. “The night is mine, not Manea’s. Once the death has touched someone, she no longer has interest in them. That’s when they become mine.”