"What may be your request, girl?" the pendant's voice called. It resonated throughout the cave's damp walls and into her brain. "Go on; I will harbour no judgement."
"Return my son to me."
A delayed response came from the pendant. Made of rough black tourmaline and dirtied silver, it shone despite no feasible light source. The thin girl did not avert her eyes even once from its glistening, vapid surface. She knew better.
"I do not know who you speak of. Recite me his name and I shall do what I must to return him."
"You dare speak to me like this?" she spat in response, raising her voice. Just like the pendant's, it echoed throughout the cave with force. "You know who he is, you charlatan."
Once again, the jewellery denied its knowledge of this son. "Girl, you are foolish to fight me, and you are bold to assume I know of his whereabouts."
"You are lying to me. Trade my son for me! Release him from your grasp or fear the wrath of a thousand suns or more!" Strands of her thin brown hair flung in front of her dark eyes as she stepped forward.
A raspy, cold laugh erupted within the area. It had been caught in its lie. "I confess to my games. I know this man. But you will need more to convince me of letting him go. You are but a spindly little girl; what gives you an advantage over your son?"
The girl scoffed upon realising the pendant did not recognise her. She spoke with resentment. "I am no little girl, you idiot. I am the wife of King Minos, son of Zeus, and I myself am the queen of Crete and daughter of Helios. Do you need further introduction, or must the gods themselves shrink down to our height just for you to remember their names?"
Pasiphaë knew what she was up against when she released the Minotaur from Daedalus's perfectly designed Labyrinth. She understood what Minos would do to the architect and his son, and what he would do to her. But she would do anything to make her son human again—and anything to finally outshine her sister. Circe would not be in the spotlight much longer.