Circe’s voice in his head as he kneels in the mud. The flavours of the living, poured into the pit before the blood. Honey first, the sweetest. Then milk, then wine. Then a scatter of barley over all of it. The order matters. Then the throats of the two sheep and the warm spilling. The libations are not for the dead to drink. They are an offering to the place itself, a way of saying the living have come correctly, with respect. Down there, the rules are absolute. Mess up the order and the door does not open right. Get it wrong and the dead come up wrong.
Libation Offerings
The four flavours of the living. Poured into the pit before the blood, in strict order. Honey first. Then milk. Then wine. Then a scatter of barley.