[This post is from Hecate’s point of view.]
Her mind reeled. Hecate’s thoughts cast back through the centuries, thrown there unbidden as her unconscious sought something her conscious mind was certain wasn’t there to find—something, anything about Orcus.
She could remember when he’d called her and the forces with her back. There had been no arguing with him—she could even remember the tone he’d used, the harshness of it. But there had been something else, something she hadn’t been able to identify at the time, not that she’d tried very hard. Her brain had been a scrambled mess then. But she knew what it was, now.
It had been glee.
She hadn’t wanted to come back from the isles, but her reasons had been her own, reasons she’d fought to bury when faced with Pluton’s wrath. She’d managed it—or at least, she’d thought she had.
“I remember it,” she whispered, blinking, vision clearing. Matt’s arm settled around her shoulders, a protective gesture and a comforting one. “I remember him calling us back, forbidding us from venturing to the isles. I remember him being so—” she groped for the word, her brows knitting. Finally, she shook her head. “Practically giddy, which was terrifying in and of itself. I remember Persephone coming to me but I don’t remember why or what she said, only that she was afraid of someone new that he’d exposed her to, someone she said was dangerous. She was worried. I remember that.”
Seamus swallowed hard. “You think she knew him, then? Or at least, of him?”
“Of Orcus?” Hecate took a breath and exhaled slowly. “I think so. For all that happened, Pluton only kept a few things from her and I think that’s why she was so often afraid, why she and I ended up so close. I think she must have known.”
Leinth looked at Seamus, her brow furrowing. “Then it would fit. Your theory.”
He gave a full-body shudder. Hecate leaned forward.
“What are you talking about?”
“He may have her,” Seamus whispered, his lips barely moving. “She might be with him. He might be the shadow holding her now.”