One person on their own may be able to save the world. But a team of friends, all working together, have a much greater chance of succeeding…providing that no-one succumbs to evil.’ Adele Rose, Awakening.

Hecate smelt the odour of death as clearly as she might smell the wonderful, scented fragrance of blooming flowers in springtime or the delicious smell of dinner wafting down the hallway.

Hecate dresses in all black, is extremely pale, unearthly beautiful and has the most chilling eyes I’ve ever known. All in all, she comes across as one of ‘The Walking Dead’ – except alive and far prettier!

run run run Hermione. You have in your hands a message and a token...run and run and run and run Hermione. You know running and running and running that the messenger will take (lampadephoros) your message in its fervour and you will sink down exhausted...run,run, Hermione. For the message-bearer next in line has turned against you...dead, dead or forgotten. Hecate at crossroads, a destruction...

The moon is my mother. She is not sweet like Mary.Her blue garments unloose small bats and owls.

By Hecate, the goddess I worship more than all the others, the one I choose to help me in this work, who lives with me deep inside my home, these people won't bring pain into my heart and laugh about it.

Hekate smacked the mirror down. "I'd never fancy you," she retorted to Hermes. "And if you ever try to kiss me, I'll--I'll keep a snake hidden in my clothes and make it bite you. On the lips. And on both ears.""See, your threats are still age twelve," Hermes said. "I'll help you work on that.