Page 75 of Invoking Ruin

Nyx materializes in front of me, cutting a swath out of the cloak of total darkness. She’s just as overwhelming as she always was, her eyes pure pools of darkness set in a deep twilight sky. If her time in Tartarus had diminished her, it’s clear now that was only temporary.

She towers over me, far too close. “You always prefer flash over substance. I get tired of an endless show.”

I reach behind me blindly, feeling for Dionysus. He’d been right there, but my fingers meet nothing but air.

“Looking for something, niece?”

I turn. Momus holds Dionysus by the hair, sword pressed against his throat.

My world stops.

One breath. Two. The nightmare doesn’t end. Momus grins, his teeth flashing in a wordless threat.

Dionysus’ eyes are on me, though I can’t read them. What does he need me to do?

“Let him go,” I say.

Nyx laughs, stepping between us, and I’m forced to face her once again. “You’re not exactly in a position to make demands.”

“I can make plenty of them.” I draw in a breath and then, full of the potent thrill of bad decisions, say, “Momus, be a dear and let him go. Then drive that knife into your own throat, it’d be—”

A wall of night slams into me, hitting me right in the neck and sending me flying. I crash into the center table, knocking it over. Glass shatters. The case where I kept Dionysus’ hair lies in ruins on the floor.

Nyx tuts, a mockery of a grandmother’s disappointment. “Silence is truly golden amongst youth. I should have taught your mother that.”

I rub my throat. “Bitch.” My voice is hoarse, and I wheeze. Next time, fewer words.

“Does he know who you are yet?” Momus taunts, drawing my attention back to him. “Better yet, does he know who he is?”

Dionysus’ eyes burn with rage as I push myself to my feet. I give him the tiniest shake of my head. He’s too vulnerable. Momus won’t hesitate to end Dionysus, but if he thinks there’s a way to torment his prey first, he’ll take it. The weaker he believes Dionysus to be, the more we can get away with.

“Shut your mouth, Momus,” I snarl, and he laughs.

“Oh, poor Vita,” he mocks. "Still lying to you, isn’t she bartender?”

Dionysus’ jaw ticks as he holds himself still. How it must pain him to play the damsel.

I need a plan. I need something.

My grip on the rift knife tightens.

It’s the only thing I have. The only thing Nyx wants.

The goddess in question ignores us, perusing the pavilion, taking in my trinkets. “This is quite the collection,” she murmurs, trailing one finger down the edge of Athena’s shield. “It’s better than I was led to believe when I spoke to the Moirai about you.”

Those scheming, traitorous cunts. “Was that before or after our lovely little chat?”

“Oh, before, child.” Her gaze returns to me, all condescension. “Do you think you’re the only one who can pass through Tartarus unseen?”

Ruin, indeed. It’s not really a prophecy if they were scheming behind my back to make it happen. Just another trap, and I walked right into it. Momus had even warned me Nyx would escape in three days, and I was too busy enjoying Dionysus to think of a plan.

My own foolishness crashes down on me like a ton of bricks. I’m such an idiot. I never thought he’d find my sanctuary.

Nemesis should have done her job and caught me. Then, we wouldn’t be in this mess. I’d rather rot in Tartarus than put Dionysus in danger.

“How did you find me?” I ask, mostly to stall for time.

“That was my bit of genius,” Momus chimes in, as I knew he would. “Put an innocent-looking amulet on pretty boy here, let you run all over the Mediterranean and wait until you stopped. I figured wherever that was would be your little den.”

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