Chapter 14 #2
“But where are you guys in the production line? And I still don’t see why you’re upset that I’m a Spinner, Drostan.”
His face fell. “We’re guards, Caddie. Protectors. You only need guards if there’s something to guard against.”
She turned to Taran. “Your mother…?”
His jaw tightened, and the drums boomed deeper, but Drostan answered first. “Have you ever heard of the God of Silence?”
She shook her head.
“Like the Fates, or the weaver legends, he’s had various names throughout history and across countries.
But no matter the name, his cultists have endured.
They see the music of the world as inherently noisy and chaotic, the antithesis of their god.
They’ve worked for centuries to destroy the music.
They’re the buggers who attacked our Crown.
” His jaw worked back and forth. “And killed Eithne. Call themselves the Silence.”
Taran snorted. “A bit dramatic for a bunch of murdering thugs, if you ask me.”
She took his hand, a small part of her wondering what it would be like to have the kind of mother that you missed when she was gone.
“As long as there is a Crown, or Spinners,” Drostan continued. “The Silence will come after them. That means you now, Caddie.”
“Except,” Taran put in. “Ruairi and Cyrus haven’t reported any evidence of Silence activity in ages. We haven’t had a Crown in forever—”
Drostan made a face, and Taran continued before he could speak.
“Despite you keeping your ancient head in the proverbial sand, athair, it’s still true.
There’s been no Crown in ages. Or any Spinners.
Which for us, means the Silence have had no one to hunt for a good long time.
” He faced Cadenza. “If you used the music, or reacted to it around one of them, they’d recognize you as a Spinner, but I doubt you’ve been cavorting with the Silence lately. ”
Cadenza narrowed her eyes. “Hang on, why haven’t you had a Crown in ages? How does that even work, because the earth is still here, photosynthesis is still happening—”
“For now,” Taran said. Drostan started to object, but Cadenza kept talking over both of them.
“—and I still hear music from the earth, so do we actually need a Crown? For that matter people are still living their lives. Do we need Thread? Or Fates? I don’t buy all this ‘Fate weaves our destiny’ stuff.
My father always said we make our own lives.
We decide our fate. I don’t want to be part of something that takes away people’s choices.
Drostan, if you can teach me how to work with the music, great, because I can’t be blowing stuff up my whole life, but past that, I decide what happens in my life.
No one, Fates or otherwise, is going to make my choices for me. ”
“That’s not exactly—” Drostan started.
“Shh!” Taran cut him off. He tilted his head to listen. “Someone’s here.”
The front door slammed. Taran sniffed the air, and his shoulders relaxed. “Just Canon.”
The salesman strode through the kitchen door, face anxious. “Cadenza, you’re here. Good. I need to talk to you,” he spoke directly to her, ignoring the Norroways.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
Canon straightened his jacket. “I took the liberty of speaking with Michael about your car. This might sound crazy, but I want you to take it seriously. Your car catching fire wasn’t an accident. Someone planted an explosive in the engine.”
Cadenza’s mouth dropped. Taran’s drums deepened, and he moved closer to her.
Drostan stood, shoving his chair back. “No evidence of activity, eh?” He stared at Taran. “I’m calling your brothers in.”
Canon cocked his head. “Evidence of activity of what?”
Drostan didn’t answer, casting a quick glance at Taran, and Canon addressed Cadenza again. “Listen, I want to have some of my team watch over you.”
They all spoke at once.
“Your security team? You want to babysit me? I don’t—”
“No need, Canon, lad. Ruairi and Cyrus and myself—”
“I will stay with Cadenza at night to make sure—”
Canon interrupted Taran. “At night? Why not during the day too, Taran? Where are you during the day?” His eyes were wide, a touch too innocent. Taran’s breathing quickened, and he took a step forward. Cadenza laid a hand on his arm to pull him back.
“Cadenza, let me help you.” Canon continued, like he was pushing a contract to a reluctant buyer. “I have appearances scheduled this week throughout the valley. Come with me. No one will be able to get near you.”
“Canon, I appreciate it, but I have things to do. I need to rehearse; I need to find something else to sell because—”
“Because you were going to sell the car, but now…” The forceful tone slid from his voice.
Cadenza dropped her arms to her side, voice quieting. “But now,” she agreed.
“We will make Venice happen for you.”
Beside her, Taran stilled. No one moved for a heartbeat.
Drostan snapped his fingers. “Nought is happening till we make sure you aren’t murdered in your bed, Caddie.”
They took a collective breath. Taran was the first to speak again. “I think Cadenza should decide how to proceed.”
She squeezed his hand. “Alright. Drostan, call Ruairi and Cyrus. Taran will stay with me at night. Canon,” she said. “Thank you. Truly. But no security team.”
His jaw tightened, but he inclined his head. “Fine, but one of us checks your car before you drive anywhere.”
The headache was back, stabbing behind her left eye, as Cadenza munched a turtle chocolate in her living room. Taran’s heartbeat sounded behind her, his drums rolling like waves on the shore.
The older Norroway brothers were on their way, but they’d been in India and wouldn’t arrive for another week due to the flight schedules and layovers.
Cadenza had a name—Spinner—and people who could tell her what that name meant.
Oh, and someone was trying to kill her.
She ate another turtle. One thing at a time. She brought the package—leave the bag, please—to where Taran was piling blankets on the couch. It was after one in the morning, and he’d been unsuccessfully trying to convince her to get some sleep. But she still had so many questions.
“I still don’t understand why you’re happy about it,” she said.
“Hmm?” He snuggled her into his chest, drum song and strong arms enveloping her.
“Me being a Spinner, I mean. Your father made it clear why he’s not excited about it, but why are you happy?”
She felt a short laugh rumble deep in his chest. “Because I’m a selfish bastard, but at least I don’t have to feel so guilty about it anymore.”
“You know that’s not true. Tell me why really.”
He heaved a sigh. “Alright. The Fates weave our paths, our destinies, remember?”
She frowned. “So you say.”
“They’ve woven your path. If you’re a Spinner, that’s your fate, your path.
And they arranged things in the path to lead you here, where there are people who can help you learn what you are.
And if being here is part of your woven path, then so am I, at least for the time you’re here.
And that means,” Taran continued. “I have no need to feel overly guilty for wanting to be in your life until such time as you need to do whatever’s next on the path they’ve set you. ”
She pushed off his chest and sat up. “You’re talking like you’re not planning on continuing to be a part of my life.”
“I told you, it’s not up to me.” He stroked her cheek. “You have whatever choices, whatever time I have, but that’s not much, and I would never dream of holding you back. I’ll not ask you to stay behind when the Fates call you forward.”
“And I told you,” Cadenza said, face set. “I’m not staying behind, but neither are you. Because I make my own path, and you can too if you choose to.”
Taran shook his head. “I wish it were that simple. But think, everything that’s happened, even your career not going how you wanted—all of that’s brought you here, where you can find how to fulfill the destiny laid for you.”
She huffed. “Of course everything that’s happened brought me here, that’s how cause and effect work. That doesn’t mean that some outside force is making those things happen. If I’d made different choices, the outcomes would have brought me somewhere else.”
He cut his eyes to the floor, and she realized what she’d said—Somewhere Else. The Somewhere Else that she always talked about. But if she’d been Somewhere Else, she wouldn’t have been here to meet Taran. Did he think she would have preferred that? Her chest constricted. Would she?
He hesitated. Kissed her forehead. “As I said, when your Somewhere Else comes, I won’t hold you back. Now,” he asked before she could object again. “If you could go anywhere right now, where would you go?”
He leaned into the arm of the couch, body relaxed, voice light, but Cadenza stayed upright, tense. For the first time in her life, she didn’t know the answer to that question.