Page 89 of Unraveling Fate

“Yes, again.” He leveled a gaze at Canon. “Thomas Learmonth is old. But he is subject to rules even older than himself. You need only ask him with the right words.”

“What words?” Canon opened his sight while Vasilios recited a few simple lines. His mentor was attempting to mask his desires while he spoke, but ugliness roiled beneath his facade. A desire, hot and bloody, bubbled to the surface, and it took all of Canon’s control not to retch over the image of Cadenza dead and songless. He buried the rage clouding his vision. He wouldn’t let that happen to her, but right now he had to see clearly. Another desire superimposed itself over the first. Again, Vasilios tried to hide what he wanted, to think only of helping Canon win, but the vision of Canon winning the election morphed to Canon as Crown, then again to the Crown as Vasilios’s puppet. That was his priority, ranking higher than even Cadenza’s death.

Canon jerked his eyes back to his phone, his last wisp of hope that some part of Vasilios actually cared about him dissipating like smoke. He allowed himself one second to mourn, then steeled his resolve.

“I don’t know. That sounds too easy?” Canon let a degree of doubt creep into his voice. “What if it doesn’t work? I think it’d be better if you went with me, just in case.”There. Let him think I need him, like a good little puppet.“What about Monday afternoon? I’m staying with Cadenza all weekend. Her safety is my number one priority right now. Oh, her opera night performance at the club is tomorrow,” he added like an afterthought. “I’ll be there of course. Are you going?”

Vasilios hesitated, and Canon read the calculations going on in his head like a book. If he killed Cadenza with Canon watching, he could kiss his puppet Crown goodbye.

The couch springs creaked as his former mentor relaxed back into the cushions. “Yes, good idea. Monday will be fine. We can wait a couple of days.”

“Great.” Canon smiled and turned back to his phone.

Game on.

Cadenza reachedfor Taran’s drums as soon as Reyna turned into Norroway Auto. She found them by the time they parked the car next to the cottage—a stream of rhythm that trickled from the house, burgeoned into a river as she exited the car, and surged into an ocean when Taran flung open the door and ran down the porch steps to wrap her in his arms.

She anchored and breathed peace.

“Are you alright?” he asked. She didn’t answer, just held him.

Cyrus waved a hand in front of Taran’s face. “Hello? Lovely to see you again too, little brother.” He mock-whispered to Reyna, “Does he always ignore people he hasn’t seen for years when she’s around?”

She stifled a laugh.

“Ha, ha, very funny.” Taran gave his brother a one-armed hug and took in the rest of the group. “Where’s Richards?”

Reyna’s face grew stormy. “He better be hiding in a hole somewhere, because his sorry ass is gonna be forge fodder the next time I see him.”

Taran tensed. “What did he do?”

“It’s what he didn’t do.” Ruairi thumped Taran on the shoulder on his way up the porch steps to embrace Drostan. “Athair.”

Cadenza shook her head when Taran looked to her for an explanation. “He wouldn’t help. Reyna said he ran off.” Her voice shrank as she spoke.

“Canon refused to help Cadenza?” Drostan’s face sagged. “There must be part of the picture that we’re missing.”

Taran shook his head and led them into the cottage. “We’re not missing anything, athair. He’s just a selfish, lying bastard.”

Cadenza paused in the doorway and laid a hand on Drostan’s arm. “I wanted to trust him too.”

Inside, Ruairi and Drostan brewed tea while everyone congregated in the living room. Cadenza snuggled into Taran’s side and sipped her tea to calm the trembling in her stomach. He smoothed her hair with one hand, the other arm wrapped around her shoulders. Rhythm rippled down to her hips. She sighed. If only they could stay just like this.

Drostan eased himself into an armchair. “I think we should consider postponing the plan.”

“What?” Cadenza sat up and thunked her mug on the coffee table.So much for staying like that.

He held up a hand. “Hear me out. Canon’s backer is Silence. And as you discovered tonight, not just lackey Silence, he’s the ruddy high priest. He’s also a member of Thomas’s wee club.” His lip curled at the name. “He’s perfectly capable of looking at the club’s event schedule and showing up that night. Thomas knows all our faces.” He pointed between himself and his sons. “So none of us can go to protect you.”

“Um, excuse you?” Reyna said. “Who did most of the rescuing tonight? You’re forgetting I’ll be there with her.”

“Aye, Thomas will recognize us, so maybe we should go. It’d be a brilliant excuse to tear his scunnersome head from his scunnersome neck,” Cyrus said with a wicked grin. Ruairi chuckled and gave him fist bump.

Drostan threw his hands up. “You’re all forgetting that we still need a hand-off person, and Canon…” He stared at the chessboard on the coffee table. No one finished his sentence. “We’re short that third person.”

Cyrus raised his hand. “I’ll go, athair. I can wait out back, in case Cadenza or Reyna needs back up, and I can send a couple of squirrels to retrieve the oracles once Reyna’s got them clear of the safe.”

“Squirrels?” Reyna scrunched her nose.