As Qebhet fought her battle within herself, Hecate gathered her tools, casting a whisper of a spell to guide her to where they were kept. She whispered, too, a blessing over the water as it fell from the tap into the topaz pitcher. Nothing powerful, nothing that would overwhelm Qebhet's ritual, but simply a spell to make the water more... receptive, to the task it would be called for.
Qebhet was still fighting, when she returned. "You're doing well," she spoke with gentle confidence, as she crouched to place her tools within reach.