always looked so normal. Except they were talking about going to confront a god.
“What is she, then?” Maeve asked.
“I’m pretty sure she’s a Moirai ,” Ryu said, slowing down to take a few sharp curves then rocketing back to his normal Speed Racer mode. “Do you know what Moirai are?”
Maeve frowned, thinking back to her training. “Isn’t that the Greek word for the Fates?”
“Very good. But it’s not a Greek word, it’s Old Tongue for ‘weaver.’ They’re an incredibly rare and ancient race with the ability to weave destiny. There were only ever a handful, and they’re so purely magical they almost never reproduce. There were enough born, however, to spread out and create havoc.”
“How did they do that?” Maeve noticed a few familiar landmarks, indicating they were near Pai’s farm. She tried to quell the nausea in her belly, but felt her stomach roll anyway. Although that could be as much from Ryu’s kamikaze driving as fear.
“You’ll notice that almost all human societies have a similar mythology involving spinners and weavers of fate. A goddess who creates and cuts off the threads of her worshipers’ lives.
“Pai, if she’s who I think she is, is short for Päivätär. She’s ruled as a goddess over many peoples, most recently the Finnish.”
“Wait, I’ve heard of her. She’s associated with the sun, right? She’s in that Finnish epic poem.”
“Yep, that’s our girl.”
“The weaving makes sense now, then,” Maeve said.
“Yes, it does. It also makes sense why I couldn’t sense anything magical done to the shawl. The Moirai’s magic is a part of them, it’s not...forced upon something. The shawl is magic, but its magic is part of it in a way I wasn’t looking for. It’s also interactive, meaning it’s totally inert until it comes into contact with a living thing.”
“But the Fates didn’t make magic shawls...at least not in mythology.”
“No,” said Ryu. “Back in the day, they were able to interfere more directly. But that’s illegal nowadays, in our society. So she’s found a sort of workaround, I guess, through knitted goods. Thank the gods she didn’t use Etsy.”
“So, are all gods and goddesses really supernaturals?” Maeve asked, feeling like a light bulb had gone on in the woodshed of her mind.
Ryu grinned at her. “Well done, and yes. Most pagan gods and goddesses are, at least. Your Jesus was human, I’m afraid.”
“No, that’s fine. A bit of a relief, really. And are they all still alive? Like Pai?”
“Many are.” Ryu pulled down the long, single track road that led to Pai’s. “And many, like Pai, do their best to interfere like they used to, despite it being strictly illegal in our world to do so. Setting yourself up as a god draws too much attention.”
“Well, that’s just common sense,” Maeve said, still feeling lightheaded. She’d never cease to be amazed by supernaturals.
She also realized they were very close to the farm when she saw Pai’s mailbox at the end of her long driveway. Ryu slowed, then pulled over, stopping the car next to the mailbox. He reached into the back seat where he’d stashed the courier’s envelope.
“I’ll take on Pai directly,” Ryu said, his voice serious and his eyes locked on Maeve’s. “I want you to stay out of the way. Just because she’s limiting herself to weaving latent magic like the shawl doesn’t mean she has to—she’s probably nearly as strong as she was when she was a goddess.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Distract her,” Ryu said. “And don’t get yourself killed.”
Maeve gave a small, sarcastic bow. “I’ll do my best, sir.”
“Good. Ready?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Then let’s go.” Ryu got out of the car, and Maeve followed, wondering for the millionth time in her life why she couldn’t have gone into something sedate, like flower arranging.
THIRTEEN
Ryu held up a hand to Maeve as they neared the main house. They’d