Threads that bind

Review by Booklist Review

Io and her sisters, Ava and Thais, are bonded together as moira-born--descendants of divinity who inherited the powers to weave and cut the threads of life. Thais, the eldest, abandoned them years ago for no reason, and Io has been off-kilter ever since; Thais always knew the right thing to do in any situation, a talent that Io took solace in. During the course of her private-investigator work, Io finds a wraith (a scorned woman whose life thread has been cut, but who remains somewhat alive) bent on revenge. She makes the mistake of crossing mob boss Bianca Rossi, who demands Io's help figuring out where the wraith, and others like her, are coming from. Complicating matters is Io's fate-thread, which is connected to one of Bianca's enforcers. This is Hatzopoulou's debut, and her descriptive prose, with its touch of humor, is excellent. The concept of life-threads is well thought out, and the short chapters are packed with attention to detail, making this a quick, compulsive read. Recommended for all collections.

From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.

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Review by Publisher's Weekly Review

In this page-turning mythological noir fantasy debut by Hatzopoulou, a cataclysm called the Collapse decimated the world and created other-born, descendants of gods who can wield their respective ancestral deity's powers. The sunken city of Alante is home to 18-year-old Io Ora and her older sisters Thais and Ava. The trio are moira-born, able to see and alter threads of fate. After an emotional rift splits the siblings apart, Io, a fate cutter who can sever the threads that Thais and Ava spin, uses her ability to become a private investigator. When Io stumbles across a murder in an impoverished, gang-controlled corner of Alante, she discovers that wraiths--preternatural women whose fate-threads have been cut by an unknown interloper--are seeking vengeance for past transgressions. Io is hired by Fortuna, a local gang, to learn more; when she meets Fortuna's second-in-command, Io realizes that he is her soul mate. Sizzling romance and action-packed sequences set against an intriguing plot plagued by political corruption and conspiracy build to a dynamic pace. The postapocalyptic mythos adds flair to the dark and mysterious premise, and intersectionally diverse characters round out this richly detailed adventure. Ages 14--up. Agent: Lauren E. Abramo, Dystel, Goderich & Bourret. (June)

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Review by School Library Journal Review

Gr 9 Up--In a world where children of dead gods inherit their power, a descendant of the Greek Fates must use her powers to help hunt a killer. Io can see and manipulate the Quilt--the threads of Fate that link people to life and love--and often follows the strands in her work as a private investigator in the city of Alante. Daughters of the Fates are always born in threes, but that doesn't mean the sisters are close. Io's family dynamics become even more complicated when her estranged sister arrives on the scene hand in hand with her prime suspect. When Io's investigation puts her in the path of a boy she's destined to love, a thread marking them a rare pair of soulmates, she becomes even more entangled in the criminal underbelly of the Stilts. Hatzopoulou braids many plot lines together to create her dystopian world, deftly weaving a gripping narrative about class, self-determination, and generational trauma. With vivid and compelling writing, the narrative immerses readers in a unique world on the edge of ruin and an achingly slow romance as Io must decide whether to tell Edei about the heart-thread or let him choose on his own. There is diversity in race and orientation throughout the story. Hand to fans of Leigh Bardugo's "Grishaverse" who are looking for a cutthroat and magical criminal underworld. VERDICT With a unique world and layered mystery, readers will love this book. A definite purchase for all YA collections.--Emmy Neal

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Review by Kirkus Book Review

Deities abandoned this nearly ruined world long ago; now their descendants, the other-born, wield lesser, inherited powers for good and evil in this duology opener. Io is the youngest of three sisters descended from the Moirae, or Fates, but she has the deadliest gift: She can sever the threads of life spun by eldest sister Thais and manipulated by middle sister Ava. Orphaned early, the girls were left to fend for themselves. Ava's a nightclub chanteuse, and Io's a private detective. Thais disappeared two years ago. Trailing an errant spouse in the Silts, a sprawling, gang-controlled slum in the half-flooded city of Alante, Io uncovers a murder involving mysterious wraiths intent on avenging past injustices. She reports this to the Silts' mob queen, Bianca, who lends Edei, her handsome, laconic associate, to help Io defeat them. They visit the mansion of the Nine, reclusive muse-borns, to attend an upscale political rally, and as they investigate, their connection grows. Should Io disclose the fate-thread that binds them? Characters' descriptions suggest a multiracial population corresponding to European, Middle Eastern, and North African identities. The apocalyptic setting, including a cosmology in which Greek, Roman, and Egyptian pantheons offer clues to other-born powers, is a strength. The highly original worldbuilding effectively counters some overly familiar, noir-ish elements, occasionally inconsistent characterization, and frenetic pacing. But there's plenty to engage fantasy fans, leaving them eager for the next installment. Classical mythology, police procedural, and romance combine in this imaginative, intriguing post-apocalyptic story. (Fantasy. 14-18) Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

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In the apartment building across from the theater, the light in the far-left window of the third floor flickered on. Io tore her gaze away from the moon and put her spectacles on. Sure enough, it was the very apartment she had been hired to watch. A figure moved inside--maybe two? She slid down and grounded her palms on the splintered wood of the balcony. Before you slip into the Quilt, make sure you're safe , Thais used to instruct. We don't want you walking off a rooftop, do we? Io blinked and the Quilt appeared, a jumble of threads laid over the physical world. 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. Io focused on the apartment on the third floor. In the Quilt, she saw beyond brick and wood, straight to the two people in the apartment. Dozens of threads emerged from their bodies, linking them to the many different places, things, and people they loved. One of the brightest threads connected the two figures together, pulsing vividly, the kind of luster that consumed everything. The singular brilliance of a love-thread , in Ava's moonstruck words. The singular tedium of a pain in the neck, more likely. A sigh escaped Io's lips. Why was it always cheating? Why couldn't it be a weird hobby or a late-night class for once, something that wouldn't crush her clients' souls? Io could picture it clearly: tomorrow, her client, Isidora Magnussen, would sit at the table farthest back in the café on Sage Street, her coat wrung like a dish towel in her hands, and Io would have to tell her, Yes, your husband did go to the apartment he supposedly sold three weeks ago. Yes, he had company. Then the hardest part would come: Does he love her? Any other private detective could shrug and say, How would I know? But Io was different. Io was moira-born. It was why clients chose her; they didn't just want to know if their loved ones were cheating or gambling or drinking. They wanted to know the secrets that only the Quilt could reveal: if their spouses loved cheating and gambling and drinking more than they loved them . And Io would have to tell her. I'm sorry, Mrs. Magnussen. Their thread is so bright I couldn't stand to look at it for more than two seconds. It means your husband's in love with his mistress. It means I want to slip through a hole in the café floor and never come out. That was what put a roof over Io's head and food on the plate: breaking people's hearts. She watched the two figures a while longer, just to be sure. She made out no bodies in the Quilt, only the threads, but there was no mistaking it: the couple came together, silver interweaving in a slow embrace. Io's cheeks heated--she glanced away. Something caught her attention. Close to the couple, on the third floor of the apartment building. It was a person, but also . . . not. The un-person had only one thread. People loved in multitudes; they got attached to others, to places, to objects, to ideas. The average person's thread count was fifteen. Newborn infants had the fewest: their life-thread, a thread to their mother, and a thread to food--the last two usually one and the same. This person, however, standing in what must be the apartment building hallway, had a single thread. On its own, that was improbable, but not impossible. What was impossible was that the thread was severed. It came out of the person's chest on one end, and the other just flopped limp to the floor, where it frayed into nothing. Threads connected --there was no such thing as a one-ended thread. And worst of all, the severed thread was tilted at an unnatural angle, like the person was gripping it in both fists. Stretched tight and sharp, as though meant to cut someone else's threads. This single-threaded person, this impossibility, was a cutter. Io knew, because Io was a cutter, too. The cutter was edging toward the lovers' apartment, their lone thread a raised weapon. Io's shoulders tensed. Her breath caught in her lungs. Little idiot , her sister berated in Io's mind. She breathed out and ran. Excerpted from Threads That Bind by Kika Hatzopoulou All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.

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