The Cycle of Violins (Episode 4)

The Lost & Foundry: Where Melodies Whisper of Secrets

Have you noticed things repeating themselves in your own life? How does music affect your memory?

Don’t miss a bit of the story:

The Lost & Foundry ✍️ Table of Contents

---

“Where are you going to sleep with the crew working all day?” Finn asks Marlowe, the boy who spends his nights watching over The Lost & Foundry.

More than six feet tall with a thickly-muscled torso and arms covered in tattoos, Finn Harrison’s imposing presence is offset by the kindness in his eyes. Much like a big dog that still thinks it can curl up in your lap, his brawny exterior is at odds with the sweetness inside. His construction company refurbished the building three years ago when Cassandra Wilkins moved to Haven’s Hollow, but the new phase will add a second bedroom to the upstairs flat. Cassandra sips her second cup from the pot of English Breakfast, smiling as Marlowe examines the building specs.

“Gus showed me the perfect spot to hide,” the eleven-year-old says, pointing to the corpulent orange cat in the fireplace, a dribble of raspberry Danish on the tip of his finger. “Even though it is right in the middle of the shop, no one ever disturbs him.”

“I don’t understand why you won’t let me close for a few days,” Cassandra says, wishing Finn could see past his own stubbornness. Marlowe is a runaway whose missing poster is hanging around the sleepy seaside town, thanks to the sheriff. “We have enough to worry about without them going up and down all day.”

“They won’t be!” Finn rifles among the blueprints, project schedules, and artist renderings on the long pine table that spans the back room of the shop. “We’re going to take the roof off, so they can come and go via the scaffolding.”

“Good thing winter’s taking its time,” Cassandra smiles. The autumn has been unseasonably warm, though with global warming nothing seems quite the way it used to be weather-wise. Another two winters before she can call herself a local, Cassandra wonders if they’ll see much snow this year.

“We’ll seal that side of the hall, don’t worry.” Finn tosses a hunk of bear claw into the air and catches it in his mouth, a trick Marlowe has been trying to learn. So far, the young man’s attempts have only been successful in undoing the meager progress Cassandra’s orange tabby has made on his veterinarian-ordered diet. “You won’t feel a chill even if the cold shows up.”

“I’m having a hard time believing the town council approved obstructing the alley. What about the diner and their deliveries?” Cassandra worries.

“Neither of the Ollies had any objection after I spoke with them,” Finn says of the town’s greasy spoon’s first- and second-generation namesakes. Cassandra knows Finn wouldn’t try to intimidate Ollie Senior, though she wonders if he bribed Ollie Junior with a discount on some much-needed upgrades. “Their suppliers might grumble, but we won’t need more than a week and a half at most. It’s the cellar that’s the unknown—depending on the state of things, you may need to close for a day or two.”