Chapter Sixteen #2
The bond hummed, warm and certain. A new ability triggered together, born from instinct, danger, and the need to protect.
Connor rose slowly to his feet. “A new Valour perk,” he murmured, as if the knowledge had always been waiting somewhere in his blood. “It must be. I never thought anything like this was possible.”
Adrian stepped beside him. “Useful. Especially right now.” He chuckled. “I look like a Napoleonic soldier on a march.” He winked. “And you look like a true Highlander.”
Connor grunted. He wasn’t sure what that looked like. All he knew was that he was no longer naked while trying to rescue a young girl. That pleased him.
Adrian inhaled sharply beside him. “Do you smell that?”
Connor did. A strong metallic tang mixed with fear, shadow, and something else. Something like hunger.
Branches snapped somewhere ahead. Connor stopped abruptly, throwing an arm out to keep Adrian behind him. Adrian’s breath hitched, but he didn’t argue.
A shape flickered in the dark. Connor squinted. It wasn’t human, not animal, but something in-between. An elongated silhouette, jointed in the strangest places, drifting like smoke but stepping like flesh.
Adrian shuddered. “Nightwrought.”
It turned toward them slowly, its eyes burning white. It spoke in a sound like the splintering of frost on glass. Then it lunged.
It shrieked, claws scraping across Connor’s skin, nearly ripping through the flesh. Immediately, Adrian flanked him, moving with startling grace as he slashed at the Nightwrought’s side with his knife.
The creature recoiled. Connor swung his dirk at the entity, savagely cutting deep into its back. The thing screamed a high, hollow keening that made Connor’s teeth ring.
It staggered. Then it fled, dissolving into wisps of black vapour as it retreated deeper into the woods, toward the valley edge.
Connor panted, bracing his hands on his knees. Adrian’s breathing was equally ragged, his curls plastered to his forehead with sweat.
“That,” Adrian gasped, “was not the same type we saw last night.”
“No,” Connor agreed. “This thing was stronger. Faster.”
“And it wasn’t working alone,” Adrian whispered. “It was guarding something.”
Connor’s heart thudded. “Irial?”
Adrian didn’t answer. He didn’t need to.
Deeper in the woods, a strange glow pulsed through the fog: blue, green, and violet, shifting like an oil slick on water. Cautiously, Connor approached, dirk ready.
Adrian stepped closer. “Connor, this is a rend.”
It looked like a crack in the air, a tear in the world itself. The edges shimmered, curling inward like a breathing wound.
Adrian shivered violently. “This magic is Utharian. Ancient. Forbidden. This shouldn’t exist here. It’s the Harrow Clearing, where the Harrow Seers keep lookout.”
How the hell do you know that? Connor thought grimly. But for now, he remained silent. “Is Irial through there?”
Adrian grabbed his arm. “Connor, you can’t go in there.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s not Utharia on the other side. It’s the Veiled Path that leads there.” Adrian’s voice shook. “That place belongs to Them.”
The Nightwrought’s rasp echoed faintly from within the rend. Connor stepped closer anyway. Adrian followed, grabbing Connor’s sleeve. “Don’t you dare go in alone,” Adrian whispered.
Connor turned to him, his heart pounding. “I wasn’t planning to.”
A voice echoed from within the rend, the sound weak and trembling. “Connor?”
Irial.
Adrian gasped. “She’s alive.”
Connor stepped forward, but Adrian yanked him back. “Wait, look.”
The rend pulsed, expanding suddenly, a shock wave of cold air slamming into them. Adrian stumbled into Connor, who caught him instinctively, his arms wrapping around Adrian’s waist to steady him.
A shadow formed in the tear. Something tall, bent, and hungry. Connor’s wolf snarled. Adrian stiffened, his fingers digging into Connor’s coat. “It sees us,” Adrian whispered.
And indeed, the creature’s head tilted, its eyes glowing white, focused directly on them. The air rippled. Then the rend slammed shut violently, sending both men sprawling back onto the forest floor, Connor’s arm wrapping around Adrian as they fell.
Silence followed. Connor’s ears rang. Adrian groaned softly beside him, pushing himself upright and out of Connor’s arms. “Connor,” Adrian whispered, his voice cracking. “They have her.” Connor’s breath hitched. Adrian reached out, gripping his hand. “They have Irial.”
Connor squeezed Adrian’s fingers, steadying himself.
“Aye,” Connor said quietly. “And I think we need some help to get her back from that damned place.” He cast a sympathetic glance at Adrian.
“I’m no rend opener, and neither are you.
We’ll need Xiathen or the Triarc to help us on this one.
Let’s go back and tell the others, formulate a plan to get our girl back. ”
Adrian hesitated. “I know you’re making sense, but I can’t leave her here.”
Connor laid a finger against Adrian’s lips. “I understand, I feel the same, but we can’t do this alone.” He turned and started walking back toward the village. “Come on, let’s get back. The sooner we do, the sooner we can return.”
Together the two men trudged through the woods. Connor hoped like hell they’d be able to do what he’d promised. The alternative didn’t bear thinking about.