Page 47 of Invoking Ruin

Apollo and… My mind jolts like Pegasus' bumpy chariot, not quite able to understand what I’m being told.

Eris—the goddess of strife and Atê’s own mother—is now queen of the gods.

This has to be some sort of dream. The world cannot have gone so completely to shit.

“How in Chaos did that happen?”

“You missed a great deal.” If there’s any sympathy in Nemesis’ voice, it’s well-hidden. “When we get back to Olympus, we’ll tell you everything.”

“No.” The word is out before I fully think it through, but as I stand up straight, pushing my shoulders back, I don’t take it back. “I’m not going back there.”

Nemesis’ eyes narrow. “No?”

She doesn’t seem keen to let me out of her sight. I was being hunted down, too. Once again, Atê is proven right. An unease eats away inside my chest, that the Goddess of Ruin knows me well. My kidnapping, murderous little stalker.

I should hate her. I do hate her.

But she knows me better than anyone.

“You need to be here on Gaia. You need people, to go where you please. You would hate it back there.”

I’m going to wring her neck for telling me the truth.

“It’s not safe for you here,” Nemesis argues. “We’re meant to be pulling back from this world, and Atê has been holding you captive inside it. You should be home.”

“Olympus isn’t my home,” I snap. The vines unwind themselves, sinking back into the ground, leaving only disturbed rock and dirt to mark their presence.

“Atê is dangerous,” Nemesis protests. “We are going to bring her down and punish her for her many, many crimes. I don’t think it’s wise to let her get her hands on you again in the mean time.”

“She won’t hurt me.” That much I know is true. Everyone around me is fair game for her destructive powers, but not me. I’ve known she couldn’t really do anything to me for a long time now, but I let her keep playing, keep scheming.

It had been a mistake. One that cost me years.

No more of that. Whatever she’s doing, I’ll take care of her myself.

“Hasn’t she hurt you already?” Nemesis asks, far too calm for my liking.

“That’s all the more reason for me to take care of her myself, isn’t it?”

Nemesis is bound by justice. Part of her duty is determining who has the most cause to seek retribution, and letting them exact it. I’m betting everything no one has more cause against Atê than I do.

“She’s mine,” I insist. “You won’t interfere.”

Nemesis frowns at me, her spine rigid. “You’re not the only one with a claim.”

“Mine must be the strongest,” I say confidently.

A confidence that shatters when Nemesis’ gaze slides to the goddess of Oblivion. The one I’d forgotten about until this moment.

Lethe blinks slowly, like a cat waking from a nap. “I don’t seek retribution. You know this,” she tells Nemesis. “Besides, it was just a spat between sisters. Nothing more.”

Lethe’s fingers trail along the inside of her forearm, where a line of white scar tissue slices the otherwise pristine skin. It should be easy to miss, but somehow, it’s the only thing about her that stands out, feels opaque, feels solid.

Atê had given me that haunted gaze at the coffee shop in Florence when I’d asked her about regrets. That look suddenly makes more sense. She has few scruples, and even fewer people she cares about, but I suspect Lethe is on her list of significant persons, even if she’s on there reluctantly.

Atê knows me far too well. It’s just as unnerving, realizing how well I know her. Something, I imagine Atê was also terrified of when she begged to not tell me anything. Her knowledge is power over me. Having knowledge of her would even the scales.

How soft I was to give into her before.

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