Asteropeia hacks at a shoulder. Peisidike, she yells to her sister. Pull the leg so I can sever the joint.

Medea smiles. Such a willing butcher.

Peisidike helps, finally, kneels to pull at each leg as Asteropeia hacks. Spray of filth over Peisidike’s face with every chop, blood and small bits of flesh and bone. She’s too stunned even to look away. She has no hope of resisting. She will pull at her father’s leg as Asteropeia severs.

Dismembered, headless trunk, but there must be thirteen pieces, so Asteropeia hacks into ribs. Foam of lungs flung as she yanks the ax free, this room a cavern of gore and fire, wet sopping sound when she strikes again. Cauldron waiting.

Hurry, Medea yells. His blood must still be hot.

Medea puts an ax in Peisidike’s hands, makes her chop at the spine to separate pelvis from ribs.

Upper cage opened by Asteropeia, and Medea tells her to reach in for the heart. Asteropeia to her elbow in blood and foam with a knife comes out with a slick muscle and holds it high. Ancient form, some scream from deep within her as she sees the heart bare.

Yes, Medea says. Throw that in the cauldron. First piece.

Asteropeia shaking from the thrill, head twisting, throwing this heart and returning to her ax to hack at spine.

Peisidike has severed the lower part and stands frozen again. Cut off his balls, Medea yells at her. Now.

So Peisidike kneels on the wet floor and folds the testicles and penis and hide over the sharp blade, slices until they’re free.

Medea pulls her to her feet and brings her to the edge of the cauldron, hot dark bronze radiating. She whispers in Peisidike’s ear. You will make your father young, she says. Only you. You are the one with the power to do this. You are a priestess. Hekate favors you.

Peisidike frightened but also stupid enough to believe. Soft flesh raised for nothing.

What makes him old is in his balls, Medea says. Old ram same as your father. His children have taken his life. But if you break each one in your teeth and then spit into the cauldron, all that constrains him will be broken. This is how he will be made young again. Death will lose its hold.

Peisidike looks at the dark meat in her hands, wet hide, testicles unsheathed and wrapped in vein or worse. But she raises this horror to her mouth, bites into a testicle, breaks it, and vomits onto the floor.

Only one more, Medea says. One more and you’ll release him. Peisidike about to faint, pale even in firelight, eyes wet and mouth still gagging. But she bites into the other testicle, releasing some flood that opens her mouth in awful grimace.

Throw them in now, Medea says. And spit his seed, also, into the cauldron, to make him new.