Page 118 of Unraveling Fate

Rowan sucked his cheeks, repressing a laugh. “I’ve missed you, my cheeky friend.”

Acantha frowned, the severity of her expression at odds with the scarlet bouquet around her head. “Your son is as unruly as ever, Drostan.”

Taran winked. “Just trying to lighten the mood. Everyone’s so somber, you’d think we’d just fought an epic battle or unraveled a centuries-old curse or somesuch.”

“Taran Norroway,” she snapped. “Do you want to resume your place or not?”

He wove his fingers through Cadenza’s. Bodhran danced around her, fresh as spring.

“Aye.”

Rowan nodded. “That’ll do.” He called Reyna and Cadenza forward. Starlight glinted off his antlers, and the deep red mark on his forehead gleamed. “You have each shown yourself worthy of your gifts and are offered a place in the pattern of Fate.”

A night breeze fluted through Acantha’s flower circlet, sending a heady scent over the group as she faced Reyna. “Reyna Weyland, will you use your gifts in service to the Fates and the defense of your fellow Children of Fate?”

Reyna lifted her chin. A gold sheen rippled across her skin. “I will.”

“Cadenza Cavalieri,” Rowan said. “Will you use your song in service to the Fates to aid in leading humankind to growth?”

Cadenza’s heart pounded so hard at first she thought it was Taran’s. The earthsong rushed her from all sides. She greeted it as a partner and made her choice.

“I will.”

Taran drewhis first breath as a man uncursed and reinstated. Conflicting scents met his nostrils—caramel, blood, oil leaking from the Audi, the clean, spring water smell of the Messengers—but he felt clear and unrestrained as moonlight.

Rowan drew him and Cadenza aside. “I would speak to you both.”

Cadenza interrupted before he could continue. “Yes, I want to talk to you too. You two came to me when I was kid, didn’t you? You were in my backyard the first time the music wanted me to use it. Ilaria said I was crazy.”

“Yes.” Rowan glanced over his shoulder at his counterpoint and leaned closer. “The rules state that you get one chance to choose whether you will listen to the music, and that day was it. When you kept it bottled up, Acantha considered you failed. But I saw potential in you. And we have so much work to be done. I won’t admit it in public”—he winked—“but let’s say a wee bird planted the idea of answering Drostan’s ad in your agent’s head.”

“I guess sometimes Fate needs a little push.” Cadenza laughed, but Taran’s eyes popped. She didn’t understand the magnitude of what Rowan had just confessed. The Messengersneverinterfered. They were exactly what their title suggested, not agents to act for themselves. At least, that was what he’d always thought.

“Rowan, you cheated!” Taran said in awe. So many hundreds of years, and there were still new things to learn about the twists of Fate.

The Messenger winced and fidgeted with an antler. “Don’t tell Acantha. She is such a stickler for protocol.”

“No worries there, mate.” Taran cast a glance over his shoulder at the flower-crowned woman and shuddered.

Rowan straightened. “My purpose in speaking to you however is that I would not leave you believing the Fates have been ignorant of your situation or your suffering.”

Some of Taran’s awe dimmed. He’d just been released from his prison; he didn’t need to be reminded of how they’d left him there for so long because he deserved it.

“As I think Cadenza has understood by now, your choices affect the pattern.”

Taran raised an eyebrow at her. “What does that mean?”

“Taran, there’s space between the Threads!” She grinned and explained what she’d learned during the fight, and how she’d unraveled the curse.

Choices and Fate. Together. His decision, made despite his despair, to follow Cadenza’s hope—to try to regain the oracles, to try handfasting—those choices had altered the weavings of the Fates. More to learn of the twists of Fate indeed. The night wasn’t yet half gone, but he felt like the dawn.

“However,” Rowan added when Cadenza had finished. “That also means that the Fates must wait until someone chooses to accept the path that will accomplish their plans. There have been many potential Spinners over the generations who could have unraveled the knot you carried. But none chose to accept their place in the plan.”

The sunrise in Taran’s chest dimmed. “Are you telling me I could have been free from all of this ages ago if someone had simply chosen differently? I had to sit herein hellwaiting on someone to hurry up and decide to use their gift?”

How many nights had he paced his prison unnecessarily? How many days had he spent in oblivion? Because no one chose to step up to the job they were tasked.

“Are you angry, Guardian?” Rowan asked quietly. “I merely intended to help you understand you were not forgotten by the Fates.”