Excerpt: Blood and Ambrosia

She found him on the roof of the building, gazing out over the twinkling lights of Ambrose. "I hope you're exercising your legendary wit and coming up with an idea of how to proceed."
The look on his face made her regret saying it; the only other times she had seen such anguish was on the faces of the mortals she tortured. "My wit doesn't seem to be doing us much good. Us or anybody else. I don't know who's controlling the Harpies. My foolish idea to fly across the Acheron almost destroyed us both. Already you've lost one of your tools and been injured too many times. I knew this task was too big for me alone, but now..."
"Now you think it may be too much for any of us to handle, as we've become." she finished for him.
"I can understand why many of us support freeing the Titans. They hope that they will stop this...fading."
"Did you spread word among them of the Moirai's prophecy?"
"Of course; no one believed me." He shot her a rueful look. "You aren't the only one who still holds grudges against the Olympians. Many of the survivors argued that I was only using the Moirai as an excuse to try and seize power for myself, to frighten them into my rule."
Alecto chuckled. "There are many things I'd expect of you, Olympian, but such transparent greed is silly, even for you." She sat down next to him. "But," she spoke slowly. "I suspect many of the survivors are too young to have ever really known what the Titans were capable of, compared to you."
"Coming from you, that's a kind compliment."
"What about those who support you?"
He shrugged. "A handful of nymphs, a few wind spirits and strong Manes. Altogether, barely enough to fight a brush fire."
"The Titans aren't free yet. And we still have time to keep them from being freed."
"What if you can't find Megaera?"
"I think I may have an idea that will help us."
Hermes smiled at her, a real smile. "You do?"
She scowled back. "Empires have risen and crumbled since the last time I needed to do such a thing; my memory is rusty. But it's a chance." Her face felt hot and uncomfortable as the next words tumbled out of her mouth. "And if there's even one chance left, then you shouldn't be so...despondent."
Hermes raised a curious eyebrow. "Are you telling me to keep hope?"
Her scowl deepened. "Despair doesn't suit you, Trickster, that's all."
Back inside the apartment, Alecto cleared a space on a table, placing a shallow bowl in its center.
"What sort of magic is this?" Hermes asked.
"We Erinyes are tied by blood. In the old days our blood connected us. If fortune favors us then that connection may still exist."
Alecto settled herself into a chair and tried to clear her mind. This wasn't going to be pleasant. She pulled the Scourge from her belt.
She felt, more than saw Hermes stiffen beside her. "Alecto, you aren't..."
She gritted her teeth as she touched the thin skin on her arm with the barbed tip of the divine weapon. Long buried memories exploded through her vision as she drew a bloody arch with the barb. They vanished just as quickly as they came and Alecto sat gasping for breath.
"I'm beginning to wonder which of us is supposed to be the fool here." Hermes had plucked the Scourge from her shaking hands. "We could have gotten blood in other ways."
"You said you've lost your weapons and none of the human tools here would do the job." A fat stream of ichor dripped steadily into the bowl, coating its insides a slick, shiny black. Alecto dug her nails into the wound, drawing more of the fluid out until the bowl was half full.
With a shudder, her wings uncurled themselves as Alecto dropped her human facade. She cradled the bowl in both her hands and saw her own darkened reflection in its depths. Her eyes were sucking holes set in a bone-grim face, a mask that had haunted the thoughts of countless victims over countless years. They should have been empty, clear, but Alecto saw darting movement in her eyes, too fast and too deep to see sharply. The deeper she followed the movements the more of them there were, black swirls and dips in the darkness that slowly began to curl together into discernible shapes. Coils and wisps of darkness pulled into an immense image, a graceful rolling figure that contracted and expanded so slowly and so slightly it barely moved at all. A dull roar filled her ears, sounding like the cycling tides. With a jolt, Alecto realized that she saw her mother, her creator, the primordial Darkness, Nyx dreaming peacefully through the ages.
I have to focus on Megaera... The image dissolved into dancing fragments.