Page 98 of Snatched By the Sandman

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.”

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