Page 20 of Unraveling Fate

“Where were you, all that time you stayed away? Drostan didn’t say.”

Taran shoved his hands in his pockets. “Lost in my own issues, I suppose. Selfish really, to make my father worry. But here I am, the prodigal.”

It wasn’t a real answer. She dropped her eyes, cheeks heating. Families were complicated; she knew that better than many. Who was she to pry into Drostan’s?

“Are you taking the road all the way to the outlet?” Taran nodded to where the path vanished in the darkness. If her questioning had offended him, he gave no sign of it.

“I don’t actually know where this goes, I was just running.”

“It ends at a service road that branches off Old Wards Ferry Road. I could show you if you like.” Taran took two steps onto the bridge, but paused, waiting for her answer.

Drumbeats surged through her ribcage, pounding like a snare drum. The creek’s song tangled around her ankles.

Stop it,she scolded.I decide if I walk with him. Not you.

“Only if you’d like. If you’re heading back, that’s fine too.” Taran gave a small smile, slouching slightly. Cadenza cocked her head, wondering at the odd posture. Then it hit her. He stood over six feet tall, and considering the weird way she had first seen him, and now meeting out here in the dark… He wastrying to appear shorter, less intimidating. Trying to make her comfortable.

Her shoulders, still tense, relaxed. “That’d be great. I ought to know the estate better if I’m living here.”

He barked a laugh. “‘The estate,’ is it?”

“That’s what your dad used to call it when I was a kid.” She gestured towards the far side of the road, and they started down the path.

“He would.” Taran chuckled to himself. “Well, as far as getting to know the place, this ‘estate’ runs 5,111 feet from the front entrance to the service road at the back, and 1,942 feet from east to west. That’s 9,925,562 square feet, or 227.86 acres.”

She stared at him. “That’s…specific.”

Taran shrugged. “It’s a specific sort of place. Two hundred and twenty-seven acres sounds like a lot, until you realize that front to back is just under a mile. Going at a fast clip, you quickly run out of road.” He scuffed a toe in the dirt.

“You sound like you’ve tested the edges pretty often.”

“That I have. They never move though,” he said, scratching his head in pretended confusion.

“No, I don’t suppose they do.” Cadenza laughed, even as she wonderedwhenhe’d tested the edges.Never when I was here.But Drostan had asked her to simply be happy that he had his son back, so she held her tongue.

The road bent west, running parallel to the creek. Earth and water hummed a night song, present, ready for her to call for more, but for the moment, sottovoce. Nothing blared out to overwhelm her, and she breathed a slow sigh of relief.

A frame drum riffed on her arm, and she frowned. Each part of the song was traceable. The melody blew around her with the breeze. That wind chime shimmer was floating down from the leaves in the oaks and willows. But the drum riff—she couldn’t see where it came from. Reviewing the last few minutes, shefound she didn’t know where the drumbeats on the bridge had originated either.

She hopped to the side to avoid a tree branch that materialized out of the dark and bumped shoulders with Taran. The light frame drum dropped to booming bass notes, filling her chest.

“Sorry!” she said. “There was a branch in the way.”

Taran waved it off, but a crazy idea spun through Cadenza’s mind.It can’t be.

She reached for the frame drum riff. Goosebumps rippled wrist to shoulder. She sidestepped a few paces to walk right next to Taran.

The riff deepened to a rumble.

She widened the distance between them. The rumble calmed to a riff.

Taran glanced up at the stars, giving Cadenza another chance to walk close enough to almost touch him. Again, the drums reverberated through her, deep and booming like timpani. She backed off, and the notes fell to a trickle.

“My father says you’re a singer?” Taran reached to run his fingers through more overhead branches.

“Yes.” Cadenza wrenched her attention away from her experiment, hoping he hadn’t noticed her weaving back and forth. “Mostly opera. But I’ll be singing some jazz in the valley starting this weekend.”

“Brilliant,” he said, golden eyes abandoning the stars to rest on her face. “I’d love to hear you sing sometime.”