Badb relished in the oath, savoring each word, her grip tightening on Stevens hands. As he finished speaking, she let go, letting his hands fall neatly at his sides. In his left palm, a small tattoo blossomed; that of a small, black crow. She licked her lips and looked at Steven, seeing past his mortal frame and speaking directly to his being.
When you die, know that I will come and claim you. Forever. My little champion...And now for my end of the bargain!
Light flushed into the room as the birds dissipated. Turning with a swish of her skirt, she started inspecting each body, looking for something in particular. With a small murmur of triumph, she picked out the tongue of a young man; severing it with her nail. She held it casually in her hand as she returned to the group.
This is the tongue of the last to be killed; you'll need to give it to him when you find his spirit. He can't speak otherwise. I assume one of you can communicate with the dead, no?
Without waiting for an answer, she addressed Etna.
I want you by my side as we approach the door, so you can learn the incantation. This is a useful spell, one that you should have learned long ago, if you hadn't engrossed yourself in trivial academics!
Flinging the doors open with naught but a raised eyebrow, she began walking slowly outside, speaking with each step, her thick irish accent reminiscent of Etnas.
The door is not too far...Just out over open water. My sisters and I have...secured...a vessel that will take you there. Chiron owes us many favours. I will open the door, and you'll be on your way. Simple?
Prometheus ignored their bitter comments. What did he care if they liked being here. They were assigned a task, and if they failed, thousands would die. The Titan would not have that blood on his hands; not if he could help it. He knew of dozens of heroes that would have relished the opportunity to embark on something like this. Too bad they were all dead.
"Does the walker choose the path...or the path the walker..."
He mumbled as he followed Badb into sunlight, his mind at unease. Speaking softly to Andrew, he kept his voice low.
"You're good with people. If it came to it, do you think Etna is with us, or with...her..."
He motioned to Badb. Having one Irish goddess around was uncomfortable enough, but to meet up with her sisters; he shuddered. The Morrigan was not a deity he could contend with, and the Celtic trio certainly have their own ambitions amidst all this turmoil.
Far away, atop a small mountain, two figures gathered under the Pillar of Nike. A small winged woman, with a spry and athletic body. The other, a stout man, wrapped in oriental garments, wielding a mighty Golden sword. With keen eyes they watched the group depart. The woman spoke.
"How long will we wait? How long can we put it off?"
"Soon, soon. Patience, young one. When they have a moment."
"If they come out alive."
"They will have victory."
They both chuckled at the joke, before vanishing as mysteriously as they had appeared.