Chapter 17 #3
The tea soured in Cadenza’s stomach, picturing Thomas’s gentle smile from their last lesson. There had to be another way.
Reyna’s eyes widened. “Is that how it works?”
“We don’t know that.” Taran held out a hand to slow his father down. “And I’ve too much blood on my hands as it is. I’ll not take another life in this feud. Especially not that of an old man.”
Reyna tapped her heel on the floor for a minute, chewing her lower lip. “I have a better idea than killing an old man, if you’re interested.”
Cadenza lifted her head, and Taran put his mug down.
“I told you how I did a ton of folklore research,” Reyna said.
“I didn’t start singing at Learmonth’s because I like the country club scene.
I recognized his name from the Thomas the Rhymer legends.
I didn’t have a ton of leads at the time, so I figured I might as well check it out.
I’d poke around the club before gigs, or late afterwards, when there weren’t too many people around, and I found something.
There are all kinds of folktales with objects that open and give you something you need.
I think Thomas might have some. I found a room in the club, it was marked HVAC on the door, but it was not HVAC inside.
There were these wooden, egg-shaped things.
” She formed a sphere shape with her hands.
“Almost like Fabergé eggs, except made of carved wood instead of jewels.”
Both Taran and Drostan froze. Taran spoke first. “Thomas has the oracles?”
“You know about them?” Reyna asked.
“What are the oracles?” Cadenza leaned forward.
“They belonged to Ruairi and Cyrus,” Drostan said.
“Presents from the Fates at their births. You can ask each a question—one question—open it, and it gives you an answer. They went missing after the raid that killed Eithne. We assumed the Silence stole them; it never occurred to me that Ercildoun would have taken them.” He shook his head.
Cadenza turned to Taran, hands on her hips. “The Fates didn’t give you one?”
“They did. We used it,” he said heavily. “Asked how to keep my mother safe. All the oracle seemed to suggest was to ask Ercildoun. Answers from objects of Fate aren’t always as clear or as helpful as you’d wish.”
“Still,” she said. If they got the oracles, they could ask how to end the curse. Maybe the answer wouldn’t be black and white, but it bore trying before killing Thomas. “We should try it.”
“And you say you’ve seen the oracles there?” Drostan asked Reyna.
“Seen and tried to steal on my own.” She pushed out of the couch and paced the length of the room, tapping her fingers against her thigh, like she could pound out an idea as easily as a horseshoe.
“I figured if they did turn out to be the kind of object in the folktales, I might get something to help me figure out who I was. But Thomas keeps them in some kind of case. It’s just glass, but it won’t break.
I think he has some kind of reinforcing”—she wiggled her fingers like a stage magician—“stuff on it, and I haven’t been able to get into it. ”
“Nor will you be able to.” Drostan scrubbed at his eyes with a sigh.
“That’s Eithne’s safe. She made it as a present for Ercildoun’s wife, Harriet.
They were friends, the two of them. Used to have a good laugh when the local wifies would get together to spin or sew.
Said they had their own Spinning group.” He chuckled, eyes distant, but then cleared his throat.
“A Spinner made the box, for another Spinner, and only a Spinner can open it.”
All eyes turned to Cadenza.
Taran lifted his face to the stars glittering overhead.
The four of them had taken their discussion outside.
Before long the weather would turn, and he wanted to be out of doors as much as possible before then.
Bad enough he spent the daylight hours insensible to the sun, he could at least enjoy the moon and the stars before winter storms obscured them.
He scoffed at himself. A bringer of storms himself, dreading winter? Perhaps Ercildoun’s real punishment was to make me hate all parts of myself.
Cadenza slipped a hand in his, bringing his attention down from the stars. “How exactly does the safe work?”
Drostan scratched his cheek. “Eithne told me the lock is musical. She braided, I suppose you could say, a sequence of earthsong—to borrow your term—to the box. You’ll have to find it, and sing it to match, and the box opens.”
“Like putting in a combination lock, but with earthsong?”
“Aye, that’s a good way to put it.” Drostan eased himself to the ground with a chuckle. “We keep meeting out here, we’ll need some decent lawn chairs.”
“Ok,” she said, releasing Taran’s hand to wave hers in the air as she spoke. “I call Thomas. Tell him I’ve changed my mind and want him to teach me instead of you.” Taran tensed, but she pushed on. “Then I’m back in his good graces, Reyna and I perform in his opera night this Saturday—”
“I’m liking where this is going,” Reyna chimed in. “I sing my set first, then sneak off to open the ‘HVAC’ room while you sing yours?”
“Yes! If you have the door open, I think I can pick out the song and match it during my aria.”
“Safe opens, I grab the oracles and am back in time for our duet.” They fist-bumped and turned to face Taran and his father.
“It’s a good plan,” Taran said. “But if Ercildoun discovers what you’re up to, neither father nor myself will be able to be there to back you up. And the oracles aren’t worth the risk. Damn things’ll likely do naught but present another riddle anyway.”
“Taran’s right,” Drostan put in.
“Imagine that!” Taran joked. His father glared at him, and he shrugged. “Sorry, athair. Old habits.”
“Ercildoun’s made it clear over the centuries that he doesn’t care about his duty,” Drostan continued.
“I don’t believe he truly wants to help you, Caddie.
I don’t believe he cares about helping anyone.
If you go back down there on your own, who knows what he’ll do.
And we don’t know if he knows about you, Reyna. ”
Cadenza set her mouth in a firm line and stepped shoulder to shoulder with the smith. “I don’t believe he’d hurt me, or Reyna.”
Drostan shook his head again. “We don’t know that. We can’t know his mind.”
A funny look came over Cadenza’s face. “What if we could?”
“How do you mean?” Taran asked, dropping his arms to his side. What was she up to?
“Or,” she said. “At least know what he wanted in regards to Reyna and me? If we knew he didn’t want to hurt us, how would you feel about the plan?”
Taran paced two steps, scooped a stone off the ground, and rolled it along his knuckles, not answering yet.
The plan was sound, but he didn’t trust the oracles.
Or Ercildoun. And Cadenza needed to focus on learning to Spin, not waste time on curse-breaking schemes destined to fail anyway.
And there was the Silence to worry about.
Drostan shook his head, jaw set. “You need more than two people to pull this off. Once the safe is opened, Thomas will know. And you can’t go prancing around his club with the oracles. He’s not stupid. He’ll figure it out.”
“Ok, so we need a third person,” Reyna acknowledged. “A hand-off person that Thomas won’t suspect.”
Cadenza moved closer and laid a hand on Taran’s arm. “We should at least try.”
Taran took in her dark eyes, feeling his resolve melt. He had so little to give her, the least he could do was not squash her hope without making an attempt.
He sighed. “Who would said third person be, and how would we know what Ercildoun wants?”
“We know someone who I think would help. And he specializes in wants.”