Page 96 of Unraveling Fate

Only a Spinner can open it.Only a Spinner can open it.Cadenza’s thoughts grew more desperate.

The ladder melted into a great, glass hill, slippery as ice. She tumbled to the bottom. Two of the notes snuck out of her throat, out of control, and a wine glass burst at the front table.

Why did I think I could do this?

There—agap. The seam. A soft, empty darkness slivered between plain and cave. Reyna dove for it.

Reyna, lass.

She pulled up short.Drostan?

Aye, it’s me.He quickly explained what was happening.Did you already open the vault room?

Yes, But Cadenza’s floundering. She needs help.

There’s nothing more you can do now,Drostan sent.We can’t use our gifts half in and half out. You opened the door, but if she can’t get the box open, we’ll have to try again.

We won’t get another chance.Dizziness rocked her view. Between the plain, the cave, and this weird thought sharing, her body didn’t know where to anchor.Thomas was getting suspicious. We only got this far because Canon’s doing something to keep him distracted.

A pause. Then Taran’s voice roared through the void.Canon is the candidate?!

Canon swallowed.Details emerged as he studied the items on the table. The shirt was old. Sweat stained the armpits. Frayed thread stuck out of the cuff beneath cheap, plastic buttons.

On impulse his hand reached for it, but he recoiled, yanking his arm back.

That was his father’s shirt, his father’s life. And he had left that life behind. He could do better than that. But as he watched, the shirt changed. The frayed edges softened, beckoning like a comfortable sweater. The stains felt honest, earned.

A vision formed in his mind of a man, strong and whole. His legs rooted into a green hill and his arms extended up to rich, golden beams pouring down from the sun. Bounty flowed from him, nurturing the world around him.

Gasping, Canon stumbled back, and the vision broke. Thomas watched him, face unreadable.

He examined the newspaper next, careful not to touch it. He wasn’t ready to pick yet. The front page featured a bold, one-word headline: VICTORY. Under the headline a black and white photo showed a ticker tape parade for a man in a convertible. Adoring faces lined the sides of the parade route. Power and justice rippled from the photo and teased up Canon’s arm. Clearly whoever the parade was for had done right by these people.

But… He flipped his gaze between shirt and newspaper. The man in his vision, and the man in the photo were the same man.

What, then, was the choice?

The band leaderstarted through the aria for the third time. Cadenza fought to keep her tears at bay. If she cried, she couldn’t sing.

I can’t do it. It’s not going to work.

The memory of Taran melting into a Ferrari hit her like a fist to the face. He needed her to be able to do this. They needed answers.

Heat rippled near her, like Reyna was using the tuning fork again, and the smith’s string melody shimmered along Cadenza’s skin.

You’ve got to want it.

Cadenza steeled herself.I do want it.

Heat billowedoff Reyna as she strained against the in-between. She caught the first part of Drostan’s thought as the cave faded from her vision.

That’s impossible. How is she?—

Reyna sniffed. Cadenza was the first friend she’d had that could appreciate both halves of her performance. And she needed help. Dude and his random table in a cave could wait.

Take me to Cadenza.She poured what she wanted into the tuning fork and concentrated on the message she needed to send.

You’ve got to want it.