35. “You must return your soul to your comatose body.”

Chapter 35

"You must return your soul to your comatose body."

ZENYA

"We Go Down Together" by Dove Cameron and Khalid

" W hat now?" I whisper in the stillness, bordering on the very first precipice where we began.

My heart still thunders in my chest, but it's warmer and fuller than ever. Until now, I've always sworn off love. Maybe this is what it feels like when it's rising, becoming.

"The next step is up to you," Hecate informs me with Morpheus and Nyxion on either side of her. "You collected the artifacts and conquered the Trials. Regardless of what you choose, you will expel the Eye of Morpheus and the hyoid bone of Nyxion."

Morpheus unfurls his wings with a soft smile, his shadows tender and stroking my bare feet. Nyxion remains at his side, his body language stoic.

I gaze down at the three items in my hand, clutching them tighter as I take in the weight of all this. "I don't suppose I can keep them, can I?"

Hecate shakes her head and cups my shoulder. "No, Zenya. It's time to return the power. You will retain a small amount until you leave."

"Leave?" My throat tightens, and I narrow my eyes in defiance.

The Goddess exchanges glances with the daemons and sighs heavily. "Perhaps we should return to the throne room and have supper together. Zenya deserves a final feast. But this time, I will be the host."

Her wisdom quells us all for now, but the thought of leaving shudders my very heart. I pieced the organ back together in this place. I can't lose this. I can't lose them. All of them.

Hecate's castle lair is as impressive as Nyxion's and Morpheus's.

By now, I've tucked the three objects into the pocket of my dress since I'm still wearing the same gothic white gown.

The entrance hall is majestic but dark and imposing. Eldritch symbols, including the triple moon, decorate the high vaulted ceilings. The arches seem to shimmer in the dim light. Arcane runes seem to form on the iron fixings—fixings that move at random.

I smile at the countless hounds that rush to the entryway at Hecate's mere presence.

"Puppies!" I practically squeal, certain I've found a bit of heaven when several adorable fluff balls scramble around me and knock me to the ground, yipping and licking my face.

Morpheus chuckles, Hecate smiles with warm approval, but Nyxion remains tense. Guilt twinges inside me because I'm sure he is eager to get his voice back.

As if sensing the same thing, Hecate extends her hand to help me up, and I ruffle a few more puppies' furry heads as I accept. She leans in and kisses my brow, the torch mark she engraved upon me.

We follow her through labyrinthine hallways with floating torches illuminating our path. Her long dark tresses seem to hover just an inch above the floor. Ghostly blue flames flare up wherever I step. It's made of polished obsidian, but it's warm beneath my bare feet.

Moonlight streams its ethereal beams through the tall, narrow windows. Shadowy figures seem to flit just out of sight, some canine and others human, manifestations of Hecate's ghostly entourage.

Ancient tapestries decorate the walls, depicting scenes of witchcraft, mythical beasts, and the phases of the moon. Sometimes, I will glance at one, and the tapestry moves, the scene coming to life.

Every so often, a spectral hound silently pads down the corridor, its glowing eyes watching us with keen interest.

"I appreciate the decor," Morpheus shares.

"The puppies were my favorite," I admit sheepishly, thankful Hecate merely smiles and flicks a long rope of braided hair behind her shoulder, her chest rising.

"This the heart of my castle," she explains once we arrive at two massive silver doors, each in the shape of a half-crescent to form a full moon.

Once she bids them to open, I part my lips in awe of the dark majesty and power. The ceiling stretches high above, supported by soaring columns of pure crystal shards.

"They're beautiful," I comment about the pillars, tilting my head, curious at how the crystal shines with a silver glow.

"Gifts from Selene. Every shard is a fragment of the moon," she purrs in my ear, raising the hairs on the back of my neck.

"Like a mirror ball but moon-themed."

"If you think those are impressive, see my throne." She indicates to the end of the room.

I gasp at the throne made of living, writhing serpents. They twist and coil around each other—ever moving and synchronized to some deep magic. Their scales shimmer with an iridescent glow, and their eyes gleam with ancient wisdom that could only come from the Goddess of Witchcraft.

The serpents part, allowing Hecate to sit and then wrap around her in a protective and almost sentient embrace. Behind the throne, a massive stained-glass window depicts Hecate in her threefold aspect, casting colorful, kaleidoscopic light across the room.

"Now, that is some style," Morpheus compliments the Goddess.

"Hey!" a familiar voice rings from the entrance. "I've been telling you for years to make a throne of shadow serpents. Does anyone listen to me? No…"

"Phantasos!!!" I spin and scramble into a run, careless of how wide his eyes get when he realizes I'm not stopping.

"Oof!" He puffs out as soon as I crash into him, staggering, but he rights himself and wraps his arms around me. His long dark waves skirt my cheeks. "There now, Zenya darling. I had every faith in you, sweet girl."

When Ivy enters the throne room, riding on a large wolfhound and escorted by a herd of puppies, I laugh, and he shrugs.

"Can I be Queen of the Puppies?" she asks, scratching the hound's ear, her blonde curls traipsing across her cheek. Some pups nudge her and stand on their hind legs, eager for attention.

Hecate approaches, her eyes gleaming upon the little girl, lips pressed into a fond smile. "For today, yes, you may be Queen of the Puppies."

"Do I get a crown?" Ivy asks Hecate, but her gaze strays to mine.

Hecate curls her hand in the air, conjuring a delicate crown of interwoven golden bones, each one shaped like a tiny, elegant dog bone. Sparkling gemstones decorate the bones and catch the light, making Ivy's eyes go as wide as saucers.

"Thank you!" She claps, jumping up and down as the Goddess places it on her head. Ivy glances around at all of us. "Phanta said there'd be food."

"Would you like to dine with your subjects?" Hecate gestures to the pups. I get the sense the throne room conversation will be more serious.

"Um…" Ivy hesitates, though her eyes don't lose their luster. "Do I have to eat kibble?"

Hecate smirks with a close-mouthed chuckle. "Of course not, but if you'd care for some puppy chow…" She manifests a large bowl filled with the treat of peanut butter and chocolate-coated Chex cereal drowning in powdered sugar.

Ivy wastes no time in snatching the bowl. "This will do!" She spins on her heel, fixing her crown when it tilts to one side, and says, "Come along, doggies."

Hecate's pups and hounds prick their ears up, ultimately under her command, and the Goddess blows a kiss, which crackles a trail of sparkles upon Ivy. Like a beacon they must follow. The little girl stuffs some of the Chex in her mouth before rounding the corner.

That's when I notice Phantasos tearing up a little, and I touch his arm. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, yes…" he waves it off, his voice cracking as he blots his eyes with a handkerchief.

I just now notice his suit. It might be my favorite. A deep midnight blue fabric that looks like it's made from living silk, rippling like water. Tiny, luminescent creatures, reminiscent of bioluminescent plankton, move within the fabric, leaving glowing trails. They constantly change, forming enchanting patterns. So mesmerizing.

Hecate bids us to the table. At first, we share the Trials with Phantasos, keeping some of the details a little more vague. We dine on phantasmal canapés. Delicate bites of smoked salmon, enchanted to hover above the plate, paired with herbs and lemon essence. The moonlit oysters are even more of a delicacy, served on a bed of crushed ice with a glowing sauce that tastes rich and smoky like the dark side of the moon.

Nyxion says nothing. Morpheus cracks jokes, as usual, he and Phantasos playing off one another.

Sometimes, Morpheus's eyes stray to mine where he does that dark smolder that seduces like liquid shadows, and my insides melt. Hecate's hungering gaze all but combusts me.

But Nyxion…his silence unnerves me. Especially when he hasn't touched his food. He simply clutches his chalice with his skeletal hand and swirls the liquid, never drinking.

After what he did, calling me and talking me away from the Abyss edge, does he think I'm still angry at him? Or rather Eclipse.

No, Zenya, she tells me in the solitude of our mind. I was never truly angry. Anger is too hot and volatile. Calculated and icy feminine wrath is my territory.

That makes sense.

Are you still ? —

No. He has atoned in more ways than one. But I wouldn't mind seeing a little more groveling, she says with a notifiable lilt in her tone, playful.

Because kneeling before me, ripping out his heart, and offering it still pumping wasn't enough groveling for you?

A pause.

Touche.

"So," — I finally bite the bullet — "Why can't I stay?"

All four of them turn to me, lowering their drinks. Phantasos tugs at his collar, unsettled by the subject. I also notice his eyes welling up with more emotion than usual.

Morpheus tightens his wings and opens his palm on the table. "Zenya, if it were within our power, we would keep you with us forever. But human souls are not…designed for the realms of the Gods—especially not the Realms of Dreams. With no anchor or immortal fabric, the only options that will happen are these: you will fade, you will become a lost dream forever to wander with no purpose, or forces like the reavers will be drawn to your humanity and forever hunt you."

I screw my brows low, my heart burning, my thoughts unable to accept the truth I know is ingrained within me. The dark side of my tattoos move, roused by the subject. "What can I do? What is within your power or our power?"

Hecate regards me with pity, pity I don't want. I want solutions. "You must return your soul to your comatose body."

Nyxion turns away while Morpheus extends his shadows toward me in tender whorls. Some tension from unspoken words hangs in the air. Suspicion prowls on my nerves.

"What will happen?"

"You will forget…" Phantasos's voice cracks from emotion.

Anger flares in my blood. My ink writhes. "Everything?"

"We will be your deja vu," explains Hecate, her voice turning ancient and reverent. "We will be the invisible magic you sense tickling your spine. The whisper in the trees. The phantoms in your dreams. Your coincidental moments. And the figure in the mirror, but when you turn…nothing is there."

Raging tears blister my vision. "Does that mean I won't remember Beastie? Or all the others?"

She looks down, and Phantasos shifts in his seat, giving me all the confirmation I need. Skulls snap their teeth. Roses shed their petals. My snakes rear up and hiss.

"I'm certain Beastie will manifest for you again, Zenya," Hecate tries to quell me, her presence calm and authoritative. "There is no stopping a force like yours, and she will always be your shield. It simply won't be under these circumstances."

Fuck. That.

Rising, my spine bristling, I dig my nails into the table, crouch, and bore my eyes on all of them. "Fuck. That. Give me something else."

"There is nothing else, except…" Morpheus trails off.

A sudden cold force sweeps into the room.

Phantasos groans and kneads his eyes. "Who the fuck invited Uncle Thanatos to dinner?"

I turn and bare my teeth at the reaper with his fucking, wicked sickle and gorgeous, goddamn, black skull and hypnotic ice crystals. Seriously, a walking corpse shouldn't look so hot!

Did I seriously just say that? I ask Eclipse. She simply chuckles.

"Zenya Alice Myre…" his voice thunders, echoing ominously through the room. "If you choose to deal with me, the most I may offer you is Purgatory."

Phantasos shrugs. "Could be worse." He lowers his head again, his expression troubled. I have no idea what's going on with him, but I can't think about that now.

"There has to be another way!" I turn and slam my hand down on the table, flicking my eyes to all the people I…love.

"Only a great sacrifice could suffice," Thanatos replies while circling the table.

In a moment, the atmosphere in the throne room shifts. Darkness snuffs out the torches. The air is tense, charged with something…powerful coming. As powerful as Thanatos.

"Oh, gods," Phantasos groans even deeper. "Looks like we're having a little family reunion." His eyes glow in the dark as well as his brothers'. They all turn their heads to something behind me, and a bone-cold chill sweeps up my spine as Phantasos raises his goblet and salutes someone. "Hello, Daddy-O!"

The whole room seems to hold its breath. Fear ricochets through me, and needle-ice crawls into my spine as I slowly turn.

Holy fucking minor god!