Page 82 of Invoking Ruin

The words I should say all die on my tongue.

What can I say? Yes, she kidnapped me, but don’t punish her?

If I don’t want her punished, then what do I want?

Atê sighs, pulling free of my grip. “Just get this over with, mother. I am guilty of what I’ve been accused of. Mostly.” She lifts her chin. “Cast me down into Tartarus. It won’t matter in a week, anyway.”

“It’s not so simple,” Nemesis speaks up, unhappily by the sound of it. “Dionysus claimed his right to vengeance in Athens, and his cause was the most just.” She frowns at me. “Do you still claim this right?”

“I do.” The room is so silent, I can hear the collected breath being held. Atê’s eyes shine with hope, and she quickly lowers her head. She won’t let anyone, not even me, see her vulnerable.

“How could he possibly have the best claim?” Apollo asks. “Keeping the rift knife away from us was surely her greatest crime.”

“You said so yourself—all her theft is to be bundled together and considered of least concern.”

Eris laughs, her shoulders shaking at the absurdity of Nemesis’ maneuver. “Leave it to you to be literal when it suits you.”

“I’m always literal.”

“Sure you are.” Eris is all but gleeful.

It’s all a little neat, as though they’d planned for Atê’s punishment to revert to me all along.

Clever.

Based on the expressions of my fellow gods, I’m not the only one who thinks this logic is too clever by half. Most of them aren’t pleased by it, though. Outside of myself and maybe Lethe.

Nemesis rolls her eyes and mutters a word of frustration under her breath. Then she says, “What say you then, Dionysus? Will we cast her in Tartarus?”

“I…” I’m less pleased, now. Laws and judgment are antithetical to my nature. I, of all people, should have no say in Atê’s fate. This is a job for a king, a ruler. Did Eris, Apollo, and Nemesis think I would be more merciful to Atê than they could be, or were they simply avoiding making the hard call themselves?

This shouldn’t be my decision. I shouldn’t bear the weight of this sort of responsibility.

The right thing would be to see Atê punished. Despite Deimos’ complicity, she’s guilty of everything she’s been accused of. She even said so.

But I can’t make the words come.

I can’t bring myself to crush her when the universe has been against her for so long.

I’ve gone soft. This goddess deserves nothing less.

But I’ve already hurt her, and I can’t forget the crestfallen expression she wore when I told her I would never love her.

The silence draws on. The pressure grows worse, unbearable. I don’t look at Atê because I’m terrified of what I might find in her face.

A booming crack, like a million of the mortals' guns firing at once, splits the skies. The din is so loud the whole of Olympus shakes, sparing me from answering. The shockwave bears down on all of us, ringing in our ears, driving us to our knees.

When the first boom fades, others follow. They’re smaller, but still powerful enough to rattle my skull. Echoes cling to our ears and fade slowly, leaving nothing but an eerie, tinny screech.

I blink, taking in the room. Atê is shivering beside me. On instinct, I drag her close, holding her against my chest, making sure she’s all right. She buries her face there and lets out a shudder. I stroke her hair and offer comfort as I glance around.

What the fuck just happened?

Just a few feet away, Apollo holds Eris. He appears as shocked as I feel.

I tilt Atê’s head up until I can see her face. “Are you all right?” The words are muted, and I shake my head as though it might clear my ears. She doesn’t reply, but I spot a trail of opalescence slipping down her jaw and wipe it away.

The ichor is leaking from her ears, as if her eardrums have shattered. I check my own ears and find the same. A sound loud enough to deafen gods? That shouldn’t be possible. A thrill of fear runs down my spine. Fear reflected in Atê’s eyes.

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