Trustingly, we all did as she asked, listening to her guttural, incoherent chants.
Minutes passed and I ached to open my eyes, but I withstood the temptation. After another minute more, however, a cold chill descended upon me and goose bumps formed on my arms. Something had shifted. The air was cold and heavy, and a palpable foreboding hung all around me in the air.
“I am here,” a chilling voice announced quietly. “Why have you summoned me?”
I opened my eyes and almost gasped.
The Oracle was a frightening sight. She was as pale as a ghost, perched on a gnarled, tall stool that hadn’t been there just a scant moment ago. She seemed to almost float. She was naked, but for a dark, crimson hooded cloak. Her face was barely visible from beneath the hood. The cloak was wrapped loosely around her, so loosely that her naked body, riddled with blue scrawling veins, was apparent.
As she hunched over, she held the goblet of my blood in her hands and it was clear that she had drunk from it. My blood streaked down her chin. She slowly lifted the cup again and took another long sip. As she did, she moaned a long shaking sigh.
“I saw visions of you long ago,” she whispered. “So long ago. And now you are here before me. You are ready to fulfill the prophecy, are you not?”
Her whispers were quiet, but they held so much weight. They cut the air like a scalpel and we hung on every word.
I nodded.
She slowly turned her face to meet my gaze and once again, I wanted to gasp but did not. Her eyes were made from blood. They were not bleeding as the Keres did, hers were different. They had no pupil or iris or white. They were blood. My stomach turned queasy and I gripped my hands together tightly.
“Will you do what you must?” she queried. “No matter the personal cost, will you pay it?”
I paused. What would be asked of me? What did I have to give? But in that moment, a vision of my daughter’s young, innocent face formed in my mind and I knew that I would give anything. It did not matter what was asked of me, if I had it to give, I would.
I nodded.
“Yes,” I whispered.
“No matter the cost?” she persisted.
“No matter the cost,” I confirmed softly. My knees felt weak, but I did not flinch or move. I prayed that she did not sense my fear.
“You will face challenges that seem insurmountable,” she stated calmly. “You must focus on your purpose and on your strength and you will persevere. There will be times when you question even each other. Focus on the love that you have and you will overcome.”
I chanced a sidelong glance at everyone else. They were watching the Oracle in rapt fascination.
“Harmonia.”
She drew my attention back to her in a raspy whisper.
“You may have one question answered, but only one. Choose wisely.”
My mind instantly whirled. What should I ask? Did I want to know if I lived or died? What obstacles would we face? No. I knew without question what I wanted to ask and I didn’t hesitate.
“Where is my daughter?”
She cocked her head and studied me.
“She is where you must go,” she answered cryptically. “When you reach her, you will find all that you seek.”
“But where is that?” I asked tremulously.
“You will find her in the Underworld.” The Oracle nodded slowly. And I thought back to the word Raquel had scratched into the sand. HELL. I gulped hard.
“And everyone else? They are in the Underworld also?”
“I am only able to answer one question,” the Oracle replied, her voice an eerie creak. “Only one. Have faith, Chosen One, and you will prevail.”
She began fading until only her eyes were visible, and then they disappeared as well.
“I will prevail,” I repeated. “But will I survive it?”
I turned and faced my parents, my husband, my sister and her warriors. They didn’t have an answer for me, but my husband’s jaw was clenched.
“Of course you will survive it,” he insisted. “I will make sure of it.”
I smiled gently at him. “We should go. Our daughter is waiting.”
I turned to Hecate. “How do we get there?”
She motioned to the old ruins. “This temple is an entrance to the Underworld. Follow me.”
“How convenient,” I muttered. But I stood aside and allowed her to walk past me into the ruins.
Cadmus clasped his hand around mine and we followed her silently, while my parents followed us and Ortrera and her warriors followed them. We were a silent procession as we made our way to the tunnel. It wasn’t long before we stood in front of it.
The mouth of the old tunnel yawned black and wide and there was a chilling air of foreboding surrounding it. Even if I hadn’t known what it was, I would have sensed the importance that it contained.
I looked to Hecate.
“Well?”
“Well, what?” she raised an eyebrow. “Enter.”
I eyed the hall. The blackness was consuming and the chill emanating from it sent goose-bumps rippling over my body.
“It’s that simple?” I whispered.
The corners of her mouth twitched. “Entering is the easy part,” she answered. “Enter with a pure heart and a clear purpose and the tunnel will give way.”
I squeezed Cadmus’ hand for strength and took a faltering step and then another. I could smell the damp and the mold as we descended into the passageway. And then, just as Hecate said, the hall extended. And then extended more with every step that we took. I couldn’t see anything as I felt my way along. It was utterly dark. I heard the rest of the group following closely behind me and I took comfort in that. We certainly were not alone.
Before I had gone twenty more paces, I recognized the trickling sound of water. It grew into a roar. And then we spilled out from the narrow passage into a large torch-lit cavern filled with a river. The river Styx. I knew it even without asking Hecate.
The river Styx was the boundary between the mortal world and the Underworld. From here on out, nothing would be the same. There would be a new set of rules. I looked to Hecate. She traveled between these worlds frequently. She knew the rules better than anyone.
“We wait,” she answered my unspoken question. “The ferryman will be along soon.”
I couldn’t contain my nerves as I glanced around at my companions. We were preparing to go where the living didn’t usually tread.
My father stood stoically with my mother, his arm draped casually over her shoulders. I shouldn’t have been surprised. Very few things in life unnerved him. My mother actually seemed calm, which was unusual. Most things in life unnerved her. As I would have expected, Ortrera and her warriors stood impassively at attention. They prided themselves on never showing emotion.