Page 198 of Hekate: The Witch

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I had forgotten about Kronos.

I had forgotten about

how he was the maker of giants.

How he had made them

of Ouranous’ blood

in his very own image.

They were meant to be

Kronos’ personal army.

Until, at the very end

of the Titanomachy,

Zeus promised them freedom

in exchange for giving up their master.

Kronos had nearly trapped me,

until one version of me had taken a torch

and thrust it into his face,

the heat from the fire rescuing me.

I had not forgotten what it took

to make him very, very afraid.

‘Torches,’ I said softly to them.

‘We need torches, hundreds of them.’

Looking back at my army,

I amended my words.

‘We needthousands.’

Climbing a Golden Mountain

I had never been more grateful

to have the powers of a Goddess

than in the moment where we

turned damp pieces of wood

into torches with a touch.

If we were mortal, this would take

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