Chapter Twenty-Nine
Connor
The village was silent. Not a peaceful silence, not the warm hush of evening fires and muffled footsteps in the streets. This was the stillness that comes after lightning strikes, when everything waits to see what survived.
Xiathen had gone back to the Athenaeum to reassure the townspeople and the visiting clan members that all was well and there was nothing to worry about.
A little white lie wasn’t so bad, Connor thought grimly as he marched angrily through the village to meet Xiathen in the library, Adrian at his side.
His valley was being ripped apart and brutalised.
Yet, even under attack, it reassured Connor, expressing gratitude for his efforts and promising to do all it could to help him.
Connor felt its murmurings in his bones.
His birthplace sent soft touches across the air, grounding him, softening the anger he carried.
“Out of the way,” he snapped at a group of villagers staring wide-eyed near the stairwell. “Now.” He wasn’t feeling that charitable, despite the land’s efforts. They scattered.
Adrian stared at him. “Do you have to growl at everyone?”
Connor glared down at him. “I’ll growl at the damn wind if it looks at you wrong right now.”
Adrian’s mouth twitched. “Domineering brute.”
“Fragile Frenchman.”
“Not that fragile,” Adrian murmured with a knowing grin.
Xiathen was waiting for him. The lore-keeper stood in the centre of the communal area, hands folded, expression grim.
“The fault line has sealed,” he said softly. “For now.”
“For now?” Connor growled. “What about Adrian?”
Xiathen motioned for them to sit down on the pews.
Adrian let out a soft, pained sound as he sat down; Connor stayed standing beside him, one hand on Adrian’s shoulder as if anchoring him to the world.
Xiathen approached slowly. “Adrian. You must tell me what you felt when the Heartline opened.”
Adrian laughed, breathless. “Do you want the poetic answer, or the one that involves screaming?”
“Both,” Xiathen said gently.
Adrian licked his dry lips. “It felt like the valley was calling my name. As though every anchor wanted to thread itself through me.” He flinched. “I felt the earth. The river. The stones.”
Xiathen inhaled sharply. “Then the Veil is thinning.”
Connor stiffened. “Meaning?”
“Meaning the mark is no longer a symbol or a tether.” Xiathen’s eyes shone with dread. “It is becoming a conduit.”
Adrian’s breath stalled. “Conduit? For what?”
Xiathen lowered their voice. “For the Veil to speak. To reach. To pull.”
Connor stepped in front of Adrian instinctively. “No. Absolutely not.”
“It is already happening,” Xiathen said. “When Adrian fainted earlier, he slipped partially into the Veiled Path. The Council used the mark to access him.”
Adrian swallowed hard. “And Connor followed me.”
Xiathen nodded solemnly. “Which should not have been possible.”
Connor crossed his arms. “Seemed possible to me.”
Xiathen approached Connor slowly. “Valours can sense each other. Feel each other. But what you did was more than that.” HIs voice dropped to a whisper. “You crossed into the Veil with nothing but sheer will. No magic. No invocation. Only the bond.”
Connor didn’t blink. “Good. I’ll do it again.”
Xiathen stared at him. “Connor Brannigan,” he murmured, “do you not understand what you’ve done?”
“No,” Connor replied. “And I don’t particularly care.”
Xiathen turned to Adrian, his voice reverent. “Your Valour didn’t follow you into the dream realm.” A pause. “He tore it open to reach you.”
Connor scowled. “Stop making it sound so dramatic.”
Adrian’s eyes widened. “It was dramatic.”
Connor turned sharply. “Don’t talk.”
Adrian coughed a hidden laugh. Xiathen looked between him, something ancient flickering across their features.
“I must test the mark,” they said. “To see how much of the Veil has bled into it now.”
Adrian nodded. Connor didn’t. “You’re not hurting him,” he growled.
Xiathen’s expression softened. “I will not harm him. But I must touch the boundary of the mark.”
Adrian reached for Connor’s wrist. “It’s all right.”
Connor looked down at their joined hands. “Fine,” he muttered. “But I’m watching.”
“Of course,” Xiathen murmured.
He lifted one hand over Adrian’s chest—careful, deliberate—not touching the glowing sigils but sensing the air a breath above them. The room dimmed. Adrian inhaled sharply. Xiathen froze, his pupils dilated, their voice trembling. “Oh gods.”
Connor frowned. “What?”
“The mark is changing.”
Adrian exhaled. “Changing how?”
Xiathen stepped back a pace. “It is no longer purely the Council’s magic. It has fused with something else.”
Connor growled. “Meaning?” Christ, I hate all this mumbo-jumbo crap. Give me an enemy I can feel, touch, and I’ll show them who’s boss.
“It reflects two signatures now.” Xiathen’s voice dipped low. “The Council of Veils and yours.” He turned to Connor. “It carries your magic too.”
“What the hell does that mean?” Connor demanded. Damn the man, why couldn’t he come out and say something that made sense straight away?
Xiathen clasped his hands together, his tone reverent and afraid. “It means the Valour bond is no longer merely symbolic. It is metaphysical. When the Heartline tried to pull in Adria,n your vow anchored him. Your essence wove into the mark.”
Adrian blinked. “So the mark is—”
“Half Marked,” Xiathen whispered. “Half Connor.”
Connor was ready to punch a hole through the wall. “So now what?” he snapped. “They can’t pull him without pulling through me, is that what you’re saying?”
“Yes.” Xiathen swallowed. “But it is more than that. The Veil now recognises your bond as part of the fabric between worlds.”
Adrian sighed. “Just give us the bottom line. All this mysteriousness is making me tired.”
“Meaning the next time Adrian is pulled,” Xiathen closed his eyes, “Connor will be pulled too.”
“That’s not going to happen,” Connor said flatly.
Adrian shook his head violently. “No, Connor, I won’t let them.”
“You won’t let? Adrian, you think I care about what they can do?”
Adrian’s voice fractured. “I care what they can do to you.”
Connor stepped closer, kneeling so their faces were level. “You’re not doing this alone,” he whispered fiercely. “Ever.”
Xiathen cleared his throat gently. “There is more.”
Connor’s head snapped around. “What now?”
“The valley responded to your bond.” Xiathen motioned to the window. “The fractures dimmed when you held him. The Heartline closed because the mark rewove itself around your vow.”
“So it’s stabilising through us.” Adrian paced the room.
“Yes,” Xiathen said quietly. “But at a cost.”
“What cost?” Adrian demanded.
“You.” Xiathen’s voice darkened. “Both of you.”
Connor bristled. “Explain.”
Xiathen looked at Adrian, sorrow in his eyes. “Each time a rend touches him, or the Council whispers through the mark, the strain will not be his alone. It will echo into you as well.”
“What? No.” Adrian shook his head. “Not happening.”
“It has to,” Xiathen said softly. “The mark recognises you now. You share the tether. The pain. The pull. The visions. The breach.”
“No.” Connor’s voice shook. “If anyone is going to take pain here, it should be me, not him.”
“Connor.” Adrian caught his hand. “You didn’t choose this.”
Connor shook his head. “I chose you. That’s what did this.”
Adrian’s eyes burned. “I know.”
Xiathen stepped back. “The Veiled Consequence has already begun.”
Adrian sighed heavily as his gaze met Connor’s. “Meaning?”
Xiathen looked at them with grave solemnity. “It means that if the Council tries again, your souls will be pulled together. And if only one of you resists,” Xiathen paused, “the other will be dragged fully into the Veil.”
Connor spoke, his voice a low snarl. “So we fight together, or we fall together.”
Xiathen nodded. “Yes.”
Connor grabbed Adrian’s face, forcing him to meet his gaze. “Well then, we know where we stand,” he said.
Adrian shook his head. “If they take you, I will follow.”
Connor’s jaw tightened. “Then don’t let them take me.”
Xiathen exhaled softly. “You have until the Council’s deadline. One day.”
Connor stood and paced the room. “And we’re going to spend every minute,” he said, his voice like iron, “figuring out how to break their anchors, mute the mark, and keep you alive.”
Adrian raised an eyebrow. “And what if we can’t figure it out?”
Connor leaned in, his forehead touching Adrian’s. “Then we go together and take hell to them. They’ll never know what hit them.” He grinned savagely.
The mark pulsed sharply beneath Adrian’s skin, warm, bright, and alive. A response. A vow echoing back at them through the Veil itself.
Outside the window, somewhere near the river’s bend, a fracture glowed faintly and then dimmed.