Page 58 of Unraveling Fate

Drostan stared at his son, then busied himself making more tea. “What is there for her to know? Cadenza, what jokes has he been filling your head with?”

“Father—”

Drostan spun and pointed a finger in Taran’s face. “I told you, I’ll not have you messing up her plans.”

“She’s a Spinner, Father!”

A clang echoed through the kitchen as Drostan dropped the tea tin. He paled and stumbled into a chair.

Cadenza rushed to help him. “Are you ok?”

Drostan covered his face with his hands. “I’m sorry, Andrea, my friend,” he muttered. Cadenza frowned at the mention of her father’s name.

“Caddie,” Drostan said. “I never wanted to drag you into all this.”

“Drag me into what?” Cadenza leaned back, pulling the blanket tighter, and sat across from Drostan at the small kitchen table. She knew she’d been stalling earlier, savoring being with Taran, avoiding asking the obvious questions to give herself time to process. But Drostan was acting like being a Spinner was some kind of tragedy, when she’d just begun to embrace the idea that not only was she not crazy, but there were answers about the music that haunted her life. “Whatisa Spinner?”

Taran set the mugs of tea on the table and dragged a chair close to her. “You are.” His eyes still shone. “I saw her,” he told his father. “In the storm, she made a shield to deflect the lightning. Completely shattered the bolt.” He smirked, like he was proud of her.

“Saints above.” Drostan scrubbed his face with one hand.

Cadenza shifted uncomfortably. “I didn’t do it on purpose. It was about to hit Taran, and I just…” she trailed off.

“You sent the music out, yes?” Drostan said. His face twisted, deepening the lines in his face. He sighed. “It’s alright, Caddie dear. Tell us what you hear.”

She stared at him. All these years she’d kept her secret locked up tight like some wicked thing. Even knowing the Norroways had answers for her, and knowing Taran had seen her use the earthsong, she couldn’t answer right away. She pronounced each word deliberately, half afraid the admission would turn on her somehow.

“I hear music. Not just from physical instruments, and I’m not just composing a tune in my head.” She took a deep breath, but both men just nodded and waited for her to continue. “I hearit from the whole world.” The words came faster, like pressure escaping a cracked dam. “The earth, the trees, the wind, the stars, all of it. And I feel like I need touseit—like I’m going to break with the need to do something with it, but I don’t know what it wants or what I’m supposed to do with it, and when I do try to let go of it, things blow up—like, actually explode.” Her chest heaved with her confession. Taran scooted his chair closer and placed a warm hand on her back. Bodhran wrapped around her like another blanket.

Drostan patted her hand. “Och, everyone blows up a few things when they’re first learning. You should have seen Eithne when she was starting out.” He chuckled, face softening. “I couldn’t build us a house for a year because she kept—” He threw his hands up, mimicking the noise of an explosion.

“Eithne?” Cadenza asked.

“My mother,” Taran said.

Her eyes widened. “Your mother heard music like me?”

“She did.”

“You said last night that she had a different job than you. She was a Spinner?”

“That she was,” Drostan said, eyes shining. “And a damn fine one at that.”

Cadenza’s head swam. The adrenaline from the lightning strike waned, leaving an ache behind her left eye. The rain outside pattered soft piano notes, and the earth, quiet since she’d loosed its song during the storm, began to thrum again. She sought refuge behind her mug of tea, letting the apple-cinnamon steam soothe her head.

Taran stroked her hair. “I think we’re getting ahead of ourselves, athair. Let’s start with the basics.”

“Production line?” Drostan suggested.

Taran chuckled. “I can’t believe you still call it that.”

Drostan shrugged. “It’s as good an analogy as any.”

“Alright, production line.” Taran topped off her tea. “You recall we work for the Fates?”

Cadenza nodded.

“The Fates weave destiny for humanity. Most cultures have some version of that idea, some kind of being that weaves fate like a tapestry, but they don’t ask the obvious question.”