Page 45 of Invoking Ruin

The sweetness of wine fills my nose. I take in a deep breath.

Yes, that’s who I am! Son of Semele. Son of Zeus. My fingers flex, power tingling there like an old friend. Wine, wildness, pleasure are my domains. The identity settles around me like a mantel, with a rightness, a finality. It’s the answer to a question I’d been asking, not just since Vita’s deception, but my whole life. My mortal memories feel like someone else’s old clothes, and I easily toss them aside.

The world expands once more, the goddess standing in front of me swimming back into view. “No, I don’t remember either of you.”

It’s not precisely true. I don’t know who they are, but every fiber of my being screams the pale one is a threat.

“What did you do to me?” I ask her.

She flinches, her gaze dropping to the vines which are creeping toward her.

“I did something terrible to you that I am trying to set right. Will you allow me to?”

She takes a step toward me, and I press myself back against the wall. The vines, reacting to my fear or some other impulse, shoot out, wrapping themselves around the goddess.

“Enough, Dionysus,” The taller goddess commands. She draws a sword—from where, I don’t know—and cuts the vines. “I’ve already had to hack away at plenty of your handiwork today. I’m not in the mood to do it again.”

This must be Nemesis, the goddess Vita had feared.

“Is he…?” I ask.

“Deimos is fine. I would try not to cross paths with him any time soon.” She shakes her head, lips pursing, like she doesn’t have time for whatever bad blood there might be between us.

“He’s holding a grudge,” the pale goddess clarifies. Her voice has a dreamy quality, as if it’s trying to lull me to sleep. Instead, it sets my nerves on edge.

“If I tried to mediate every petty grudge of my fellow gods, I would do nothing else,” Nemesis complains. “I have more important work to do.”

“Like hunt us down?” I ask her.

She arches an eyebrow. “You were never the target. Atê has been hoarding you like her own personal treasure for a long time now.”

Atê.

Her name. Her real name. It echoes in my ears, reverberating with the weight of the truth. Yes, her name is Atê, and the sound of it brings to the forefront that mix of desire and revulsion I’ve always felt for her.

I don’t know what these feelings mean. Where they’re coming from. Still, her name hovers at the edge of my mind, taunting me with knowledge I desperately need.

“I don’t know where she is,” I say.

Nemesis’ expression turns flat. “Yes, you do, Or at least, you did not very long ago. You owe her no loyalty, Dionysus. When you remember, you’ll know why.”

She gives a sharp nod towards the colorless goddess, who raises her hand, twisting her fingers, beckoning.

Is she calling to me?

No, she calls something within me. It rises, pulsing against my skin. I scrabble backwards, pressing myself against the wall, biting my lips against the scream fighting its way out of me.

No. Not again. The pale goddess got her hands on me once, and my whole body freezes and burns with the mere memory. Then, she was pouring water down my throat, but the reverse is no less intolerable. I clench my fists to keep from choking the life out of her.

Memories come rushing back to fill the empty space. Dancing in firelight, fucking in the grass, Atê beneath me, her green eyes wild as her hips rise to meet me thrust for thrust.

The sound of familiar laughter.

I've come to a bull leaping competition. Stands full of cheering fans. A mortal man’s—my lover's—irrepressible grin as he waves at me before leaping onto the bull’s back. The ride, glorious at first, the animal leaping and bucking while the man holds on for dear life, guiding the animal as he bends over backwards to grab the animal's horns and prepares to leap.

Then a misstep, the bull bucks to launch the man off but his grip slips, and he falls. A sickening crunch as he lands wrong. The snap of his neck echoes in my ears.

I stand over him, taking in the unnatural angle of his neck laid out on the arena sands.

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