Page 105 of Unraveling Fate

The Thread yearned towards the portal, dragging on her arm, but Cadenza resisted, watching the toddler insist on her preference of snack. Such a tiny choice. Inconsequential. But her preferences would not always be inconsequential. That child had years in front of her. Cadenza studied the shimmering strands around her hand. Would the Fates use this Thread to push that little girl, or one like her, into a life she didn’t want?

All the grief from her lost choices and her lost friend returned, swamping her as strongly as the earthsong ever had. Canon’s words haunted her again.

I’ll never be enough.

Anger blazed through her at the idea of someone beingdestinedto feel so inadequate. Her pulse pounded, and she squeezed the Thread so hard her fist shook.

How dare they? How dare they weave such a destiny?

And they expected her to be a part of that? She had to clench her jaw shut to keep from shrieking in the middle of the crowd. She wanted to scream until her voice shattered forever.

How’d that be for your little plan, Fates? I kill my voice, and you get no Thread from me.

Cadenza yanked her hand away from the portal. She thought of songs petering out, unfinished, and of strings unraveling. The Thread trembled and dissolved before her eyes. A faint melody swirled around her and drifted off on the breeze.

She lifted her chin in defiance.

Cold trickled down her arms, and the feeling of vindication faded. She shoved her hands in her pocket, shivering. The fraying strip of fabric from the oracle met her fingertips. A hot lump lodged in her throat. She’d managed to Spin but couldn’tbring herself to let the Thread be used. And she had no clue what this stupid scrap of cloth had to do with breaking Taran’s curse.

She shouldered through the crowd and out of the tent, her peace unraveled with the Thread.

The spaceunder the tree was mercifully unoccupied. The southern end of the field had fewer tents, instead hosting a small sheepdog demonstration. Cadenza sank onto the dry grass, not bothering about the tears cascading down her cheeks.

The earthsong was quiet. Spinning fulfilled the need to use it, at least for a while. Now that she’d figured out how to anchor to the earth, she could Spin whenever the music grew too insistent. No more worrying about blowing things up or hurting someone. She pulled the oracle cloth from her pocket. The curse was the only obstacle between her and Taran leaving and finding their own Somewhere Else.

Of course, the Silence was still out there. She shuddered and threw a look over her shoulder as if Canon’s former mentor might be standing there. Vasilios knew where she and the Norroways were, so why hadn’t he tried anything yet? What was he waiting for? Canon’s promise when Drostan had told him to help them echoed through her.

Always.

Perhaps Canon had set something in motion to keep the Silence at bay for a few more days? Even so, she doubted the Silence would be satisfied with just knowing she had no intention of sending Thread to the Fates. They’d keep trying to kill her. But Drostan didn’t want her involved with the Fates anyway, so even if she rejected that life she could count on his help. And Taran. Well, Taran might not think she had a choice inwhether or not to work for the Fates, but he wouldn’t allow the Silence to hurt her either way.

Yes. All they needed was to break Taran’s curse and they could run. Find somewhere safe to lay low, live quietly. That meant no stage career for her, but she didn’t care anymore. That had been her mother’s choice for her, and the compulsion to prove herself to her mother had vanished. Unraveled and floated away on the breeze like her Thread.

She rubbed the fabric. The curse was the last obstacle.

Maledetto pezzetto di stoffaccia, she cursed it in Italian.

“Oh, hello again.” Elspeth stood over her, holding a Styrofoam container from the food trucks. “Do you mind if I join you? I prefer eating my lunch away from the bustle of the festival. I love teaching, but a small break is in order.” She smiled.

“Of course.” Cadenza ducked her head to scrub the tears from her face, but Elspeth didn’t seem to notice.

“They must have dropped that one,” Elspeth said.

“Pardon?”

“That handfasting ribbon.” She pointed to the cloth in Cadenza’s hand. “Looks like it’s been fairly ground up underfoot, doesn’t it? Did you pick it up by the booth?”

“Handfasting ribbon?” Cadenza asked slowly. “This is just a ratty scrap of fabric.”Wasn’t it?

Elspeth patted her hand. “Don’t worry about the shape it’s in. I’m sure it’ll bring you and whoever your young man is together, just the same.”

Cadenza’s heart pounded, breath coming fast. She laid the cloth across her wrist, imagining Taran’s hand under hers.

“Let’s hope so,” she whispered.

Taran lurched forwardand caught himself with one hand on the garage’s cement floor. The night air flooded his lungs like a breached airlock. He gulped it in, willing the rusty ache out of his joints.

That transition always hurt.