Page 79 of Invoking Ruin

I start and glance over as Deimos comes over to me. He smirks, far more at ease than he had been when I’d wrapped him in vines back in the Acrocorinth.

His dread spreads out like a miasma, liable to choke a mortal dead, but I wave it away, unbothered. “Was I supposed to?” I ask him, avoiding answering him.

No, I don’t regret my romp around the Mediterranean with Atê at all. I’m surprised by that, more than I care to admit. What a toxic pair we make. It doesn’t speak well of me that I enjoyed punishing her, was thrilled with the chase.

She betrayed me, the whole way. I have to keep that in mind.

But I don’t want to.

“I guess she must be a good fuck,” Deimos quips. “Bad decisions usually are.”

“Deimos!” From the hall’s entrance, Nemesis summons the younger god. The blindfolded Dike is at Nemesis’ side, holding her arm while she peers around unseeing.

“Mommy’s calling,” I taunt, but Deimos only grins.

“Yes she is.” He straightens like a preening peacock, and I bite back a laugh.

Some things have certainly changed since I was last here.

At the head of the room, Apollo stands and the crowd falls silent.

“Much has happened in little time. A criminal has been apprehended,” he waves his arm towards Atê, “our long lost brother returned to us,” a wave toward me, “but more dire, our greatest threat was freed, and is now at large. We’re here today, because of that threat.”

“We’re here today,” drawls Aphrodite from across the room, “to deal with the trash our beloved queen brought in.”

On the throne beside Apollo’s, the queen in question digs her fingers into the marble arms, chipping away at the stone.

It’s my first time seeing Eris in her new capacity as queen, all rough edges and raw energy. She seems to enjoy regal pomp and circumstance about as much as I expected.

She snarls at Aphrodite, more feral cat than composed goddess. “We’re here to make sure you get your bloodsport. Not that we have time for indulgences. Did you forget what happened to Ares the last time Nyx was free?”

Apollo raises his hand before the pair of them can really start fighting. A shame, as I’d have loved to see who’d come out on top.

“No one is denying the need for a mother’s justice, Aphrodite,” Apollo says, “but your queen is correct. We do have greater priorities.”

“Then hurry and get on with them. I will not rest until I see the one who hurt my son brought to heel.” Aphrodite sniffs and settles back in her chair.

There are murmurs of agreement in the crowd. Gods will always put bloodsport before solving a possibly world-ending crisis, after all.

Apollo’s jaw tics, but it’s Eris who gets out of her chair. “Then let’s get this farce over with,” she says. She’s fiddling with the zipper of her leather jacket, but it breaks off in her fingers, falling to the ground in a pile of rust.

“Who wishes to bring claims against Atê?” Apollo begins.

Many hands go up, far more than I expected. Aphrodite and Ares. Hephaestus, holding up a frowning Lethe’s hand as well as his own. Deimos, of course, but many more besides.

Eris glares at the extra hands. “If your only claim is theft, we’ll treat all of those as one claim. I don’t have time to listen to you whine about how much you missed your favorite shoes.”

Hermes glares, and no one doubts that last jab was directed at him. “Which I still don’t see returned, I might add.”

The shoes must have been in the chariot, which they haven’t checked. My usually-calm brother is so entertaining when annoyed I don’t bother to point it out.

Hands lower, but there’s a darker undercurrent to the murmurs, now.

“Your daughter is a known thief,” Athena says, leaning forward from her seat. “Should we treat these crimes as trifles simply because they are so numerous? It seems unwise.”

Apollo rests a hand on Eris’ shoulder. “It’s simply the most expedient solution. The items are being returned. We have documented her theft, so it’s not under dispute.” He frowns over at me. “Have you no dispute with her, brother? Nemesis has already named you the strongest claim.”

My hands are firmly in my lap. Atê, who hasn’t so much as moved in what feels like hours, turns her head in my direction. Her green eyes are bottomless, haunting me.

---