Carol F. McKibben
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Riding Through It

There's an expression that horse trainers use whenever a client's ride becomes difficult - "Keep riding through it." I've heard it at least a hundred times while riding my horse. It's a function of good horsemanship. If you give up or get off in the midst of difficulties, you might win the battle that day but lose the war in the long run. Learning to be really good at something takes persistence and time. Such it is with life; so it is with writing.

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Snow Blood's First Encounter with Hecate, Goddess of Witches

1/14/2019

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Picture
Picture
The lush woods swirled with mist that took on a green tinge. The mist thickened and the hair around my neck tingled. Out of the mist ahead, three blurred, smoky images of a single woman moved in unison. The images simultaneously cast out their arms, as if inciting a spell. I turned to Nova, who appeared frozen in time. I moved like a sleepwalker in a dream to her side, touching her face with my nose. She felt like stone! I turned and snarled at the images, but the heavy weight of the mist held me back. 

The three forms moved slowly toward me. Once in front of me, they solidified into one woman. She wore a black sleeveless gown that seemed to ripple as if the cloth was ink spilling off her and black robes with ornate silver designs.

The designs were just like the runes or alchemy symbols Kane had once showed me in one of his books. Her black hair was pulled into an Ancient Greek-style, high-set ponytail. She carried two old-fashioned reed torches, and a polecat. She put down the black-footed, ferret-like creature, and it weaved in and out of her flowing robes and hissed continuously at us.

A deathly pale marred the woman’s beauty. Her presence engulfed the woods around us with a strong condensation of the mist. A green aura shimmered, surrounding her. I could feel magic swirling around me.
​
I glanced at Nova and whined in fear. The object of my desire had been turned to stone. I bared my fangs, saliva dripping from them, and lunged at this mythical sorceress. But nothing happened. My body couldn’t move. I felt blocked, almost paralyzed when I tried to step forward.

“Do not fear, Snow Blood. I only wanted to meet you.” Her voice was deep and raspy. The green mist swirled up and down her body, and her dark black eyes shone like coal in her pale face.

I looked back to Nova and whined.

“Your companion will be fine when I leave. I am invisible to all but you at this moment.”

I turned to the woman, not knowing her motive, and sniffed the air around her. She smelled like cold, death and moist earth.

“My friend Persephone described your strength and beauty, but her words didn’t do you justice.”

Her sweet words disarmed me. I shook my head, trying to clear it of her voice seeping in and out of my mind, like the mist surrounding her. I knew that she had to be like the gods—charming, deceitful, greedy and evil. So, you are Hecate?

Yes. She reached out to touch me, and I shrank back. “Do not retreat from me… I…”

SNOW BLOOD! WHERE ARE YOU? Brogio’s voice pushed Hecate’s thoughts from my mind.
​
The witch again held out her right hand. “I know you are being summoned. So, meet me here tomorrow night when the moon rises over the trees. I have the gift of prophecy, and I will tell you your future, and that of those you love.”

Backing away, I again shook my head, trying to knock her voice from it. As I retreated, finally able to move, Hecate glowed even brighter and dissolved slowly in the mist. “Remember… tomorrow night… your future awaits you.” Her voice and the smell of sulfur faded away gradually with her image. It left an uncomfortable ringing in my ears.

I stared at the empty space she had left and shook off the remnants of her spell from my coat.
 
If you’d like to read more of this third book in the Snow Blood Vampire Mystery Thriller Series, go here. Haven’t started the series, then click here.

Til Next Time,
Carol

 
 
 




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