Page 11 of Invoking Ruin

“All I ask is that you share how you did it,” I go on. “I’ll keep the knife out of their hands longer if you advise me on the best way to hide. Surely, you can see the value in keeping my mother from getting what she wants.”

There’s no power in my words. Using any would be a waste, but that doesn’t change that it’s a bad idea for her to help me. We both know it. She stares at me for a long moment, and I hold my breath, waiting for her dismissal.

“I suppose you would benefit from some much-needed wisdom. After all, we are alike, aren’t we?”

It’s bait. She’s pressing me for any weakness, any chink in my armor, but I can’t help but let this barb hit home. “What makes you think I’m anything like you?”

“Both of us are so devoted, willing to do anything for the god we desire.” Her voice is neutral, as though this is a mere statement of fact.

We both know it isn’t.

“Except my god still lives.”

“And if he did not?” She spreads her hands in front of her as far as the cuffs will allow, the heavy metal clanking. “What would you do?”

Heat rushes up the back of my neck, setting the hair there to rising.

“You would best hope you never find out, grandmother. You will be my very first visit should anything happen to him.”

She chuckles, unfazed by my threats. “Not a good way to ask for a favor, granddaughter,” she reminds me, putting me in my place.

I grit my teeth, knowing exactly what she wants to hear. “I’d do anything to keep him.”

And I would. That doesn’t mean I’m like her, not one bit.

But for Dionysus, I would do anything.

“The Moirai,” she says at last, and I startle. “Seek the help of the Moirai. They led Apollo down false trails for my benefit. He thinks he has them in hand now, but they will aid you if you ask.”

The Moirai. I press my lips together. Not my first, or even tenth choice. The old, bedraggled sisters serve nothing but Fate itself, weaving the paths and destinies of mortals and gods alike.

“And why would they aid me?”

Nyx shrugs. “I can’t promise you they will, but gods all do enjoy our spite, don’t we?”

I can’t argue with that.

“Thank you.” I hadn’t known what to expect from my grandmother, but genuine assistance while gaining nothing in return seemed incredibly unlikely. Her easy complicity is worrisome, even suspicious, but it’s also useful. I’ll talk to the Moirai.

If she’s the one leading me on a false trail, I’ll deal with it. I’ve dealt with worse.

“Keep that knife safe, Atê. I will come for it very soon.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask what she means by that. Trapped in Tartarus and enchained, she can’t come after me or the knife.

Not by herself.

But who would dare help the goddess of night escape her prison? Not even I would go that far, and I’m persona non grata.

A shiver steals its way down my spine, chilling me.

“If you say so,” I say at last, as though my dismissal might dispel the threat in her words. I pull the helmet back on and leave before she speaks more poison in my ears.

I won’t let her, or anyone else, have that blasted knife. It’s my freedom. Dionysus’ too.

Chapter three

Dionysus (Sandro)

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