Page 99 of Unraveling Fate

Drostan closed his eyes, lines creasing his brow. “Oh, Reyna. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry that you young people had to get mixed up in all this.”

He dropped into the chair next to her and squeezed her hand. “I wish I could tell you that’s never a part of this life, but that would be lying. The Silence want just that. Silence. No music. No green, growing world. Just blank sameness. And we can’t let them drain the world to that, can we?”

She saw it then—the world a buzzing monotone, devoid of color. No creative fire, no cooling water. Just a stagnant, unchanging nothing. She swallowed and shook her head. No, they couldn’t allow that.

“Keep your kindness, Reyna lass,” Drostan said. “Never lose it. But likely enough, a day will come that there’s a job needs doing, and you’ll be the one there to do it.”

Taran sankinto the couch and wrapped one arm around Cadenza. The carvings on the oracles shone in the lamplight, and a sliver of hope played its way into his heart.

“Where would you go?” he whispered into her ear.

She laid her head on his chest as if listening to his heartbeat. She did that often. Sometime he’d have to ask her about it.

“Somewhere away,” she said. “Away from the Silence, away from the Fates. Away from my mother even. Just away. With you.” She wove her fingers through his, and Taran touched them to his lips.

“Sounds perfect.”

Cadenza lifted her head to look at him. “Canon showed up after all tonight, to keep Thomas busy. Weird, right? And he saidsomething odd …” her voice drifted off. “But I didn’t see him again after the concert. Did he call here, or come back?”

“Tea’s here.” Drostan banged through to the living room with extra mugs and a fresh pot.

Taran busied himself pouring a cup for Cadenza, grateful for the delay. He’d put off seeing her horrified face for a few extra minutes if he could.

She cleared her throat and patted the oracles. “Ok, we have them. Come si fa? How does this thing work?”

“From the research I did,” Reyna said, rolling her shoulders and stretching her neck. Taran glanced at his father. He’d have to ask him what they talked about in the kitchen. First time to the cave was never easy. “You just ask it a question, out loud, and it opens and ta da!” She posed her hands around the oracle. “There’s your answer. Is that about right, Norroways?”

Drostan nodded. “Aye, that’s about right.” He pulled the chess piece from his pocket and rolled it between his fingers, face morose.

“What’s up with you guys?” Reyna asked. “We all worked our butts off prepping for this, and amazingly, itworked, but y’all are all mopey like you don’t care.”

None of them answered.

“Let’s take care of the oracle first. Then we can discuss other things,” Taran finally said, stroking Cadenza’s hair. “Just remember, an answer from the Fates doesn’t always give you what you’re looking for.”

Cadenza lifted her chin and hefted one of the oracles from the table with both hands. “As Babbo used to say, ‘Tentar non nuoce.’” She gave him a smile, and he translated out loud.

“Never hurts to try.”

The rest of them gathered around the back of the couch to watch. Cadenza’s eyelids fluttered closed while she sucked in a deep breath. The little slice of hope burrowed deeper in Taran’sheart, an uninvited guest. He held his breath, afraid of letting it stay.

Cadenza opened her eyes. “How do we break the curse put on Taran Norroway by Thomas Learmonth of Ercildoun?”

A seam cut through the middle of the wood, and the top half of the dome hinged open. Smoky crystal lined the interior, like a geode. Something lay curled in the bottom half. Cadenza lifted it out, eyes alight. Taran cringed at the expectation on her face but couldn’t help himself from leaning forward either.

She unfolded the object. And scrunched her nose.

“Umm…?” She held up a tattered length of cloth, about two inches wide and two feet long. Long threads frayed from swamp-green edges.

“What is that?” Reyna asked, squinting at it. “Looks like one good yank would unravel the whole thing.”

Taran sighed and kicked out the sliver of hope—No lying guests, thank you very much.

He squeezed Cadenza’s hand. “I’m sorry, mo chridhe.”

“That’s a bit underwhelming,isn’t it?” Cyrus said. He patted Cadenza’s shoulder. A penny whistle tune danced down her arm.

She jumped and stared at him. It couldn’t be. “Do that again.”