The newly hybridized ivy climbed the wall and wound itself around the curtain rods and attached itself to the crown molding. It made the room feel more alive, but the rare peonies reminded me of Mom, and the pain of her absence made my chest hurt.
Nyx and Marie brought Mo back, and I helped them put away groceries and make dinner. Marie, Mo, and I ate at the small table in the kitchen while Nyx, Persephone, and Circe returned to the front room.
Mo went upstairs early. It worried me that sleep seemed to be her only refuge. She slept more than she did anything else, and I was pretty sure her clothes were fitting her a little looser than they had before.
After Marie and Nyx left for the night, I joined Mo in my room, where she was already knocked out. I went into the bathroom and brushed my teeth, threw my hair in a bonnet, and changed into a pair of leggings and an oversized T-shirt. I cut out the lights and got ready to curl up next to Mo when something, a tug in the pit of my stomach, drew me to the window. The sun had long since set and the sky was a blanket of ebony dotted with twinkling stars. The moon was invisible, making the stars so much brighter. It made sense that offerings to Hecate were traditionally put out on a night like this. She was born from the night itself in a time when maybe all that existed were stars and sky. I pushed my glasses up and let my gaze wander to the tree line.
Mo had begun to snore as I tiptoed out of the room and stood in the hallway. I heard some rustling from the extra bedroom directly across from mine. The door was shut, but a faint light danced out from under it. I made my way downstairs and again, stood quietly, listening. Circe had gone up around the same time as me and Mo, but Persephone had disappeared.
I went to the kitchen and took three eggs from the fridge and a fresh bulb of garlic from a mesh sack sitting on the counter and slipped down the hall into the apothecary.
Passing under the newly sprouted black locust tree, I let my fingers dance over the hidden lever to the secret door at the rear of the room. It bounced open and I ducked inside.
I flipped on my phone抯 flashlight. It pitifully sputtered to life, flashing on and off. Circe and Persephone must have already found time to tend to the altar because it was completely free from dust; the triple-faced statue of the goddess herself glinted in the dark. The offering bowls had been cleaned out and the dusty pillar candle had been replaced by a taller, newer one. I set the eggs and garlic down. Circe had said something about small tea cakes, and I wondered if it抎 be disrespectful to add some of the chocolate chip cookies Mo had brought home to the spread. I lit the candle and sat in the dark room for a long time before looking up at the family tree painted on the wall, the family crest emblazoned in gold paint at the very top.
It still felt surreal to see my name nestled under Selene抯 protective leaf right at the bottom. I wondered if she ever thought I抎 be sitting here in this place that was so much a part of who she was. I couldn抰 find a single part of me that resented her even though a counselor had once told me that was a normal thing to feel. After everything I抎 learned about her and about why she made the choices she did, all I felt was appreciation. What were the odds that she抎 choose adoption and that my parents would turn out to be the most amazing people I抎 ever known? Mo with all her funny tenderness, her honesty, concern, and terrible breakfasts. Mom with all her worrying, wonder, her take-no-shit attitude, and love of scented candles and old-school music. Two imperfect people finding each other, then finding me, both of them loving me like it was what they were born to do. I took off my glasses and wiped my eyes with my T-shirt.
As I gazed at the altar I saw that the flowers hadn抰 been replaced yet. I quickly got up and went down the hall to the entryway where I listened for any sign of Persephone. She抎 asked for some time alone in the garden, but she hadn抰 said exactly when. It was late, but I wanted to ask her if she was done so I could grab some flowers from the garden to add to Hecate抯 shrine.
I slipped on my shoes and slowly pulled open the front door, trying to keep the hinges from waking up the entire house. I pushed through the knee-high grass in the rear yard and stepped onto the hidden path.
The darkness in the woods was complete, and my phone抯 flashlight was on its last leg. The way ahead would be free from obstacles, the foliage surrounding the path always made the way clear for me, but as I struggled with the light on my phone the underbrush on either side of the trail began to glow. I switched off the flashlight as the intensity of the soft green light grew brighter.
Tufts of Omphalotus nidiformis, commonly known as ghost fungus, lit up the dark. They抎 made homes of fallen logs and numbered in the dozens among the rotted wood. They seemed to wake up as I pushed forward, sensing my need for a lit path.