Beautiful Cries

Chapter Twenty-One: Sailors of Old

The light emanating from the two ancient torches caught the glint of murder in Hecate's amber colored eyes. The blood curdling screeches behind her only grew in intensity as she stepped closer to Scylla.

"I wouldn't think a daughter such as mine would betray her own flesh and blood, in the defense of one who so clearly does not deserve it; let alone to steal from another god of higher stature."

Scylla's multiple heads hissed as they moved closer together, taking in the power filled form of Hecate with burning malice. "It is difficult to steal what was not one's possession in the first place, Mother. I would think attacking one's daughter would be much more of a treacherous feat."

"We shall have to see then." Hecate smirked, her eyes darting quickly to the two figures huddled under the mouth of the cave. "I have a bone to pick with one siren in particular for sending so many lovely lost sailors to my guide for the past millennium."

Alena could practically feel Hecate's gaze burning a hole through her skull as the woman moved closer to look at her, the predator-like smile reminding her of a smile she had plastered on many times.

Her stomach continued to burn as the liquid settled out, sending a shiver through her system as she noticed the same movement wrack Damari's body, his blue eyes flashing as they settled on her.

Heat coursed through her body under his unabashed gaze, his eyes roaming up her body in a sensually slow manner, coming to a gentle stop at the stunning green eyes that had long held his attention.

He had taken a bold step closer to her trembling body when a low crooning sound reached their ears.

"Oh, how I do hate breaking up such a touching moment between lovers, but I must say, I'd prefer killing you without the taste and sentiments of love ruining the moment. It leaves behind a rather awful after taste. Horrible for my health."

Alena ripped her gaze away from Damari to stare at the goddess' descending torches, moving closer with every word.

"I don't believe that is quite the way to put it, Mother." Scylla chuckled, swimming next to Hecate to place a barrier between her and the mountain. "Besides, it would be a more merrier sight to see your broken body beneath my feet then it would be to witness the useless death of two heroes."

"Heroes?" Hecate barked out. "Heroes? That is what you think of these children, Scylla? I would have thought you more rational then that, to see the murderous siren for what she is," Hecate's eyes narrowed to slits on Alena's form, "a monster."

Scylla pulled a long, double edged blade from a cleverly hidden belt at her side, lifting the blade to hold its pointed tip directly against the smooth ivory skin of her mother's neck.

"I would suggest you choose your next words wisely, Mother, for there is more than one monster in this situation; and we both know it isn't Alena Calli."

"Do you honestly think you scare me?" Hecate chuckled lightly, drawing back to drop a hand into the mist that had crept up her ankles. "I have more power than any of you could ever imagine. As well as millions of men that would love to have a conversation with the disgraceful beast."

"She has a name!" Scylla cried out, slicing her blade across her Mother's cheek only to watch a drop of golden ichor drip slowly from the blade to the sea floor.

Lifting her hand delicately, Hecate smoothed a finger over the puckered skin, smearing the ichor as she pulled her hand away to stare at the substance.

Her head slowly rose up to stare at her daughter, eyes flashing and turning even darker as the golden substance ran down her cheek.

"You don't know what you have started, daughter of mine. I have thousands of the dead at my disposal yet you dare to commit such an act of treachery against me?" The goddess moved closer to the multiple heads of her daughter, holding her hand up when a low, menacing growl came from the mist. "Why?"