Chapter 15 #3
MODA likely knows what happened to Effie.”
“Effie?” Luciano asked.
“My sister Euphrosyne. She’s gone missing.”
Luciano stared at Sophie, not comprehending.
“Happiness,” Aida breathed. “Euphrosyne is the goddess of happiness.”
Luciano’s eyes widened. “I don’t understand. How can a goddess go missing?”
“That’s precisely what I want to know,” Sophie said. “She’s been gone for decades, but we’ve only just realized it.”
“What?” Aida and Luciano said in unison, disbelief etched on their faces.
Sophie sighed. “I know it sounds strange to you, but time doesn’t work the same way for us. We’re immortal—what seems like
a lifetime to you is merely a moment for us. We often go years without seeing each other. Plus, it takes a long time for the
effects of something like this to accumulate. We didn’t notice her absence at first.”
Aida stared at her, speechless.
“Trust me, I’ve searched to the ends of the heavens and earth for her. Places have been disappearing for a while, but it’s
only now, when the balance has been widely tipped, that they’ve come to my notice. I believe that the two are connected. And
here you are confirming this suspicion. The work you describe . . . It’s purposeful. You’re taking stock of places that give
people joy. And in doing so, I think you’re removing them, which further brings everything out of balance.”
“And then our memories of these places are being erased? From everyone? Across the earth? How is that possible?”
Sophie raised an eyebrow at her.
Aida’s cheeks grew hot. “Gods, yes, that’s right,” she said.
“This doesn’t make sense,” Luciano said. “Why would gods need Happiness Collectors? Why would us writing down details about
happiness make things disappear? And if that’s the case, why isn’t Aida’s list also disappearing?”
“It’s in shorthand.” Aida glanced at the notebook on the table in front of her.
Sophie nodded. “It seems the gods haven’t accounted for such ingenuity. Few write in shorthand these days. Your unique method may be why your list hasn’t slipped away like everything else.”
“Thanks, Grandma,” Aida breathed.
“Now then, let’s talk about why the gods need you. As you know, not all gods are benevolent. When Zeus departed during the
Age of Stars, he set forth the Preservation of Order, a set of binding rules for those of us who chose not to go or whom he
asked to remain.
“The first rule: Gods are not allowed to kill humans directly. The second is that we can influence or guide humans but cannot
override their free will. We can nudge them in a particular direction, plant thoughts, or heighten their desires, but the
final choice must always be theirs. Still, it’s a small thing—you’d be surprised how easily humans are swayed by what they
think they want. The third rule: Once a god has claimed influence over a human, no other god may interfere unless the first
god agrees. If a mortal’s fate is being shaped by one of us, the rest must keep their distance—unless we reach an agreement
to intervene.
“But influence isn’t the same as ownership,” she continued. “A god can nudge a mortal toward a certain path, but until the
mortal actively aligns with them—whether through belief, worship, or true devotion—the claim isn’t absolute. MODA shaped your
circumstances, yes. They placed obstacles, guided your choices, and made sure the only doors open to you led back to them.
But you never gave yourself to them, not fully. You didn’t sign that contract knowing who they really were. You followed survival,
not faith. That gave me just enough room to act, to speak with you now.
“Those rules were put in place to avoid utter chaos. In the event the gods wanted to return, they would still have a world to return to. Zeus commanded me to remain behind and maintain the balance between good and evil within the world. This was not a difficult task, because with most of the gods departing, the power they had within this world went with them. Gods are only as strong as the worship other creatures afford us. And therein lies the problem.” Sophie paused for a bite of her curry.
“And that is?” Aida asked, hoping she didn’t sound too impatient.
“Those of us left behind have very little power. And gaining it isn’t that easy when most of humanity has forgotten you exist.”
“But if the gods can compel humans, can’t you rebuild your power?”
“It’s not as easy as you might think. You can only compel those who believe in you and are aligned with you. And often, that’s
subtle and takes place over a long period of time. What do you think of when you hear the word Nike?”
“The shoe,” Aida said. “But if you said it in the correct Greek pronunciation, I would know you were talking about the goddess
of victory.”
“Do you know how many Nike shoes are sold every year?”
Aida shook her head. She’d never liked Nike, preferring sneakers from Superga.
“Roughly seven hundred and eighty million.”
Aida’s jaw dropped as she took in the unfathomable number.
“The shoe company was founded after the goddess was able to compel the two young founders, both athletes, to name the company
after her. But to reach this point of sneaker domination, it took her nearly sixty years. It’s a drop in the bucket of time
for us but a long time for humans, who die, and more often than not, trends die with them. And it’s an odd victory, don’t
you think? To be the goddess of the most shoes on the planet? But it’s a victory, and that’s what matters to her.”
“But this doesn’t explain why things are disappearing,” Luciano said.
“I don’t know what’s happening there. But I have a feeling gods are involved. Tell me more about MODA. Who’s running it?”
“It’s headed by someone named Lady Ozie.” It felt strange to say the name out loud; it sounded so silly. “We’ve never met
her.”
Sophie sighed. “I should have known. Another sister. Oizys.”
Aida wasn’t familiar with that goddess, but Luciano obviously was. “Cazzo!” he cursed. “She’s also called Miseria.”
“Misery?” Aida said, stunned.
“That’s why you’ve never met her,” Sophie said. “She sucks all the life out of the room when she enters it. She would cripple
you with her nearness. You would have the weight of unfathomable depression upon your heart. She can’t simply appear and force
despair, so she’s using a more insidious strategy. By removing joy—bit by bit—she creates a world where despair can flourish
naturally. Without happiness to balance it out, everything tilts further into darkness, and her power grows with every moment
of suffering.”
She set down her glass, her expression grim. “As misery and chaos spread, it weakens those of us tied to positive forces.
Gods like me, who represent peace, temperance, and joy, are drained of our strength. The more the imbalance grows, the less
we can do to stop it.”
Aida’s chest tightened. “So . . . we’re helping her? By collecting happiness, we’re helping destroy it?”
“Unwittingly, yes,” Sophie said softly. “That’s how she’s stayed hidden for so long. She used you to document happiness, so
she could target and erase it. You didn’t know, but now that you do, you can help me restore the balance. Happiness is one
of the most powerful forces in the human experience. It brings resilience, hope, and connection—all things that protect humanity
from despair. By erasing joy, Oizys is stripping away humanity’s last defense against her influence. Once joy is gone, misery
can take root more easily. If she succeeds, the balance will be shattered, and gods like me will fade. Oizys doesn’t just
want to cripple humanity—she wants to reshape the world in her image, create a place where only misery thrives.”
Aida gripped the table’s edge to ground herself, her alarm rising and her heart threatening to leap out of her chest. Her ears and scalp began to tingle.
The last time she’d had a panic attack was at her grandmother’s funeral, standing by the graveside in the cold, the metal casket gleaming in the sunlight.
She’d needed to sit on one of the folding chairs the cemetery had set out for the elderly.
Yumi had held her and rubbed her back until she could be calm.
Oh! How she wished Yumi were with her now.
Sophie could sense her discomfort. “Aida, please,” she said, holding out her hand again.
Aida swallowed and reached out her shaking hand. This time, Sophie curled her fingers around Aida’s and she laid her other
hand on top, her skin warm and comforting.
“Don’t worry. Now I will give you my aegis.”
Immediately, Aida’s panic fled, and a sense of comfort and safety filled her. “Oh, oh, thank you,” she breathed, grateful
for the reprieve from the attack on her senses. “I’m . . .”
“No.” The goddess stopped her. “Don’t ever apologize for your feelings.” She let go of Aida’s hand and reached for Luciano’s.
“I give you my aegis.”
Aida felt Luciano relax next to her.
“Now, keep in mind you won’t be invincible. Gods gain power over humans when the humans believe in them, but my protection
renders their direct influence upon you void. Yet careless decisions can still render you vulnerable to other humans under
the influence of the gods, so be careful. But you don’t strike me as average humans. Use good judgment and you’ll be fine.”
“Could Mo be a god?” Aida wondered aloud.
“Mo?” Sophie paused, then sadly shook her head. “He didn’t even bother with a clever name. I’m impressed at his restraint.”
“Who is he?” Luciano asked.
“Momus, my brother. God of, what would you say . . . Snark. Guile. Sarcasm. Cutting wit.”
Aida gave a rueful chuckle, remembering the first meeting she had at MODA when Mo told her to get her snark on. “So much makes
sense now. What about Fran and Disa?” She described the two women to Sophie.
“Fraus, who is better known as Apate. And Discordia. My sisters.”
“Fraus . . . fraud,” Luciano explained to Aida. “And discord.”
“I’m afraid so. My more nefarious siblings seem to have teamed up. Hence the name MODA. Not all gods care about balance. Some
thrive in darkness and gain strength from chaos, deceit, and suffering. This imbalance is an opportunity for them. The more
suffering there is, the more powerful they become. It’s their chance to rise again, to reclaim the influence they’ve lost.
They don’t care that the world is slipping into despair, because they’re thriving on it. My guess is that they know exactly
what happened to Effie.” Sophie took another sip of her wine. “You’ll have to help me find out what and why.”
“Wait, what? No, I’m done with this. I can’t go back to work for them knowing who they are. And you are a goddess! If they
are your siblings, you should be able to handle this on your own.” Luciano began fumbling for his coat. “Come on, Aida.”
Sophie’s voice remained calm and measured. “Luciano, this is one of those careless decisions I was referring to that might
render my protection void.”
He paused. “What do you mean?”
“If they suspect you know anything, do you think they will let you live? There are many ways for them to influence the coming
of your death that will override my protection. You can skate below the surface, but as soon as you blatantly show them you
are aware of who they are, they’ll arrange for your destruction.”
Luciano threw up his hands. “Why can’t you do anything? After all, this is your family trying to destroy all joy in the world.”
Aida put a hand on Luciano’s arm. He looked at her, took a deep breath, and seemed to relax. She turned her attention to Sophie.
“Help us understand.”
“Of course. There are two reasons. First, I can’t interfere as it would disrupt the very balance I exist to protect.
My influence must remain neutral—if I act too directly, I shift the scales in ways I can’t control.
Worse, my siblings could use my interference as justification to do the same, and they have no interest in balance.
If I overstep, I don’t weaken them—I strengthen them.
Like my siblings, I’m bound by the Preservation of Order.
That’s why I need you. Since you know of MODA and the missing happiness, you will help me. ”
Her tone left no question that this was a command. Aida reached for Luciano’s hand under the table and squeezed it. He squeezed
back and, to her relief, did not let go.
“I don’t think I can talk to them again without it being obvious that I know something, much less work to help you fix this,”
Aida said. Despite Sophie’s assurance that the gods couldn’t hurt her directly, she couldn’t push aside the idea of Discordia
sending lightning bolts from her fingers to burn her to a crisp. She was confident the woman despised her.
“That’s what my protection is for,” Sophie said. “I granted you calm in the presence of gods.”
“I don’t feel very calm right now.” Luciano’s words were bitter.
“You don’t need protection from me. And I prefer to see you as you are. But in the face of scrutiny by one of my sisters or
brothers, you’ll find yourself cool as a cucumber. This is important because you’ll need to sleuth out where they hide all
that happiness. Now think, have they told you what they do with your research?”
“There’s a database of sorts.” Aida wracked her brain to remember everything that Trista had said about it. “We submit our
digital information into a database online. And we meet with them in person every quarter to report on our research. Come
to think of it though, a lot of that report is on how the work makes me happy.”
“That’s it then. We need to find out what that database is and where they store it. It’s not a real computer. It might have
some digital interface, but I assure you, it’s something else.”
“And how are we supposed to do that? We can’t just ask them. My assistant is a locked box regarding information about MODA.” Aida tried to imagine a conversation with Trista about the database. “I think questioning it would set off every red flag she has.”
“Mine too,” Luciano agreed.
“They must have offices or rooms you can search,” Sophie suggested. “Start there.” She waved a hand, and suddenly the waitress
was there. Reaching into her coat pocket, Sophie pulled out a slim wallet. She extracted several bills and handed them to
the woman, who took them with a smile. Sophie stood and put her coat on. “I’ll see you soon.”
“Wait!” Aida couldn’t believe the goddess would just leave them there like that. “How do we find you?”
“You shouldn’t need to. Now that you have my aegis, I can easily find you. But if you really have to, I suppose you recall
how to pray?” She gave them both a sage nod and departed.
“Pray?” Aida said, looking at Luciano.
He frowned. “I don’t remember the last time I prayed.” He gathered up his coat and stood. “Andiamo. I know a pub where we can get a drink.”
Aida followed, her heart pounding at both the idea of complying with a goddess’s wishes and going with Luciano off into the
night.