Threads That Bind (Threads That Bind, #1)

by Kika Hatzopoulou

the youngest sister of the Moirae, the goddess of Fate who decides when a life-thread is to be cut. Knot it once, the saying went, and she will know you’re still fighting.

moira-born, to feel the threads of life

Thais, the oldest, took on the role of warden, cleaning and cooking and managing their money, while Ava, two years younger, busied herself with fun, inventing games to occupy their time and reading people’s fortunes for a little extra cash. And so Io, the youngest, born six years after Ava, became the baby, looked after and teased.

three moons. Pandia, the biggest and brightest; Nemea, traveling the bottom of the horizon; and Ersa, which rose and set in a matter of hours.

Only moira-born, descendants of the goddesses of Fate, could see the lines of silver that sprouted from every person, connecting them to the things they loved most in the world.

This single-threaded person, this impossibility, was a cutter. Io knew, because Io was a cutter, too.

Only a thread could cut another thread.

Other-born always came in a package: in two or three or more siblings descended from sibling gods. Myths talked of the existence of other gods, too, but only twin, sister, or brother divinities bestowed their progenies with power. Some believed the power was too much for a single person to inherit, but Thais disagreed.

The moira-born always came in three, like the Moirae, the goddesses of Fate, themselves. The firstborn was the spinner, who could weave new threads. The second was the drawer; she could elongate or shorten a thread, intensifying or weakening the corresponding feeling. And the youngest was the cutter, able to cut whatever thread she desired, even life-threads.

“Threads connect people to what they care about. A person you have met, an object you have used, a place you have been. You love it, deeply, and a thread is formed. But there are some rare threads that exist before the attachment is formed. They lead to whoever or whatever you are destined to love, one day.”

The Fortuna gang acted like law enforcers in the Silts; cops rarely deigned to step foot in a place submerged in tide and filled with chimerini—the small, bloodthirsty animal hybrids that lurked in Alante’s deep waters—unless, of course, they were running a raid.

the Moonset Riots, an eight-day-long violent gang war twelve years ago that almost wiped out the Silts,

“No guns, no leeches, no paramours,” she heard Nico reply. Leeches—the Silts name for cops.

Ava had been one of the rare moira-born who could see the threads of animals.

keres-born, who were descendants of the Keres, goddesses of violent deaths.

Moira-born powers stemmed from the ancient Moirae themselves, the goddesses of Fate. One to weave, one to draw, one to cut the threads of life. Legend said that the gods died out long before the old world Collapsed, the Moirae among them. But their powers survived in their descendants: whenever three children were birthed in their family line, they inherited their powers. Sisters, brothers, people outside the gender binary, it didn’t matter—only the number remained unchanged: always three. The same was true of pretty much every other-born, the number of siblings dependent on the gods they came from.

The Nine sisters, descendants of the Muses, held court at a massive mansion in the heart of the Artisti District. Their extraordinary knowledge of arts, science, and history made them an unofficial authority on all things other-born,

Once a thread was cut, the connection, love—or in this case, enjoyment—you once felt was gone.

The thread might grow back over time, but most likely it would not; such was the risk of cutting it.

That was Ava’s power: she could let out threads or draw them in, hence intensifying or lessening the feeling that accompanied them.

“A chernobog-born?” asked Io. The descendants of the Rossk god of darkness could create invisible walls that no one could cross; their twins, the belobog-born, could wield light as a shield.

Also known as Gemini, the Dioscuri were the twin gods Castor and Pollux, patrons of sailors and travelers. Their descendants, the dioscuri-born, were twins with the ability to track both the paths one had traveled and those one would travel. Much like moira-born, they used something akin to the Quilt, but instead of threads they saw pathways on the ground, alit in bronze. The eldest saw the paths taken in the past, the youngest the paths to be taken in the future.

“Listen,” he said, “if it’s any worth, I understand. There is violence in kindness, and kindness in violence.”

The Miduchi were one of the lesser gangs of the Silts, a crew of young thieves specializing in breaking and entering. They never targeted the Silts, only the richer districts, which had earned them an unofficial go-ahead from the mob queen, so long as they “paid their dues.”

Lots of other-born, especially those who society considered dangerous, tried to hide their powers. But even if they could get forged birth certificates that hid the existence of any siblings, it was hard to keep up the charade if you lived in a major city-nation like Alante: officials often employed the help of the muse-born to locate other-born who attempted to trespass into city-nations. Stowaway lists they were called.

Especially if you were a cautioned-entry other-born, like cutters were.

A new law had been passed, dictating the immediate renewal of other-born papers to include photos.

an oneiroi-born, descended from the gods of sleep,

Moonset month—a month every seven years when all three moons disappear from the night sky.

The Order of the Furies—descendants of the Furies, law enforcement of the other-born population—was

They were sisters, Fates, one soul in three bodies.

the economy would benefit from the inclusion of other-born in the upper ranks of society.

the silver glaze in Io’s eyes, or the brass shimmer in a dioscuri-born’s eyes.

“neo-hybrids,” but the Silts called them chimerini—little chimeras.

strange gestures in the air, someone would have glimpsed a rose-gold glow in his irises.

The offspring of the three Graces were gifted with a magnetic allure that slithered into the minds of their subjects and turned them to docile servants. Using a hook invisible to anyone else—something akin to Io’s threads—they made their victim feel a heat in their chest, like being cradled in their mother’s lap, snug and comfortable and utterly safe.

the Collapse, but they all agreed on its major turning point: the once singular moon split into three—Pandia, Nemea, and Ersa—causing the sea level to rise globally. Whole nations were swallowed by dark waters, and the few remaining coastal cities faced a tide that sank them half underwater every night.

the muse-born’s actual powers. Through the art their protégés produced, they could interpret truths about the past and future, about social conflicts, natural disasters, technological developments—even murders.

“We have something similar, though our power is more mediatory and less . . . aggressive. We have our protégés, our painters and sculptors and writers, our actors and musicians and dancers. They ask for inspiration, and we deliver through their eyes and ears and fingers. We gift them with ideas, thoughts, secrets.

The cutter the unseen blade the reaper of fates she watches silver like a sign she weeps silver like a mourning song she holds silver like a blade she cuts the thread and the world ends

phobos-born, a descendant of Phobos and Deimos, the twin gods of terror and panic. He induced fear in his victims as long as he could ensnare them with his eyes, which reflected black like Io’s reflected silver when she was in the Quilt.

horae-born, descendants of the goddesses of time, formed the Agora and became their leaders; smaller other-born compounds, like the muse-born, took charge of separate city-nations; and the fury-born, goddesses of divine punishment, formed the policing body, named the Order of the Furies. The fury-born could see a bright orange latticework akin to the Quilt, which showed them a person’s wrongdoings.

The Furies, depicted as ugly crones with serpentine hair; the Graces, young, beautiful, and naked; the Muses, each with their instrument; the Dioscuri, solemn and identical; the Fates, weaving their tapestry; the Erotes, seven winged brothers of love; the Horae, three sisters who controlled the passing of time, long-haired and holding hands; the Keres, the three dark sisters of death; the Oneiroi, three brothers of sleep and dreams; and the Asclepies, the four daughters of health and medicine.

Horae, goddesses of time, order, justice, and peace.”

oneiroi-born, descended from the gods of dreams; a single touch from her at a person’s sleep cords and they dropped like a fly.

“I think the people we love can be cruel. Our love doesn’t absolve them. Nor should it.” “What kind of person are you,” Edei whispered, “if you love someone who is cruel?” It was a question Io had often asked herself. She opened her mouth, closed it. Tried again. “You’re someone who loves. That’s it. That’s the only part that’s yours to give and yours to take.”

the gods of dreams, Oneiroi, were winged spirits.

Some other-born, like the moira-born and keres-born, were demonized by the general public, and others, like the Agora of the horae-born or the Nine, were equated to deities. But oneiroi-born and grace-born were fetishized in the public media,

“Morpheus,” a redhead said, feet propped on an armchair. “I use the pronouns they and them. Together, we will dream of the past, or the future.”

Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos—but then, moira-born powers were easy to describe in a single word: weaver, drawer, cutter.