Page 102 of Invoking Ruin

She’s had centuries to wear me down. It’s only fair she give me at least a year.

“Apollo has a village for us on Gaia. Come with me. Let’s see what trouble we can cause.”

Her eyes gleam, and she grins. “Wherever you wish.”

Chapter twenty-three

Atê

Six Months Later

Drums and the trilling accompaniment of flutes ring out over the streets of Apollonia. The air hangs thick with sweet-smelling incense and wood smoke. A line of bonfires leads a long, blazing trail out of the town, away from the villa where Dionysus and I have lived the last six months and into the surrounding forests. People are following it, dancing in the streets, laughing and shrieking.

They’re dressed in a mix of modern and ancient wear, tipping bottles of wine back, not minding if they spill and dirty their clothes. The mania of the evening already has them.

A modern-day bacchanal.

I lean over the balcony, watching them go. My hair spills over the edge, and it’s a long tumble of mostly-black ink once more. Only a few threads of silver remain.

This place has been good for me. Mortals in this era are less inclined to fear us, and are much more aware of their own faults. More eager than ever to indulge them. Sometimes, I think they goad me into whispering bad decisions in their ear, no matter the consequences.

I can hardly complain when I get to feed on the results.

The population of the village has swelled in recent months, after all of Gaia witnessed Nyx’s attempt to bring forth the Void. New supplicants arrive every day, wishing to follow the old gods who stopped the world from splitting apart.

The question of what to do with the mortals is a hotly debated one. Some gods want to rule over them as we once did, while others are determined to remain in an observational role.

The mortals, themselves, have no idea what to do with us. Many of them cling even more fiercely to their own faiths. The concept of more than one truth seems to be too big for them to comprehend.

Only the most eager, the most earnest mortals can enter this sacred place. With new wards in place, anyone else finds themselves turned away, lost on back roads, not remembering where they were or why they’d come this way.

It’s for the best. The world can decide how to approach us.

I want no part of it beyond this little corner.

In time, I’m sure Dionysus and I will both be taken with the urge to wander, but for now, this is new and exciting enough for us both.

And we are still learning a great deal more about each other every passing day.

Leaving the balcony, I make my way back inside. The upper floor overlooks a large, open-air atrium, and the company inside is far more immortal.

The smoke here is laced with incense, but also headier pleasures. Gods and goddesses dance in the center of the room. Peitho practically glows gold in the torchlight as she moves in time with Hecate, luminous as the moon. Hermes is nearby, watching over them as he talks to Poseidon.

He won’t stay away from them long, I’m sure.

Eris and Apollo have claimed a chaise for themselves. Eris is absentmindedly opening the seams on the cushions while she whispers to her lover, their heads tipped together as though the rest of the world doesn’t exist.

Even Dike, Deimos and Nemesis are here, if a little stiff. Dike stands between them, a frown turning her lips. Those three need to figure out what they’re about, for everyone’s sake. I’m tired of trying to figure out whether they’re on or off again.

Later, when things heat up, I’ll probably see for myself, though I hope to not be out here once things reach that particular pitch.

“Here you are.” Lethe climbs the stairs and joins me on the landing. She’s wearing one of Hephaestus’ creations, a deep blue gown. I’ve no idea why she insists on wearing metal as clothing. It has to be heavy and uncomfortable, but she never complains.

“Were you looking for me?” I ask. Things between my family and I are better, if strange. I’m not used to positive attention from any of them, and none of us are particularly good at conversations that don’t end in some form of sniping, especially Eris and I. When we start to get into it, Lethe usually just rolls her eyes and scolds us both.

My once-invisible sister, the mediator. A strange thought.

“You are the hostess here, are you not?” Lethe asks as she comes to stand beside me, jostling my side with her elbow. When I glare, she gives me a wide-eyed, innocent look I know better than to believe.

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