Medea
“The needles of many seasons made a thick carpet on the floor of the pine wood. The trees were strange to me. They were shaped like the spruce of upland thickets, but their needles were blue. In the strong sunlight they glowed, and the air was heavy with their distinctive, pungent scent. I had thought that nothing with a nose could live under them and had left Kore and Scylla in camp with Iole. Certainly nothing grew under them in that disinfectant smell. But there were some creatures alive in t...he pine needles. Bigger than insects.
I had with me water to sprinkle and my knife to let my own blood to re-sanctify the grove. The image of Hekate was ahead of me, a black pillar in the shape of a three-headed woman. It was so old that the carving had blurred. The forest litter had almost covered the icon.
I waded into the pine needles and the hissing was all around me. It was not the humming of summer insects. It was in the ground. I was walking through a thousand snakes.MoreLess
I had with me water to sprinkle and my knife to let my own blood to re-sanctify the grove. The image of Hekate was ahead of me, a black pillar in the shape of a three-headed woman. It was so old that the carving had blurred. The forest litter had almost covered the icon.
I waded into the pine needles and the hissing was all around me. It was not the humming of summer insects. It was in the ground. I was walking through a thousand snakes.MoreLess
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