35. THIRTY FIVE
THIRTY FIVE
CURSED BY STARS
W atching Fionn approach prompted me to tuck the scroll into the waistband of my trousers.
The ancient words were meant for my eyes alone, and I couldn’t risk anyone seeing them before I understood their truth.
I was confused and exhausted, my spirit drained from what felt like endless conflict.
For now, I could only be grateful it was Fionn and not Horous running across the moor toward me.
My thoughts barely dared to venture toward what my fate might have been had Fionn not intervened.
Then the anger rose within me. They weren’t going to sacrifice me, they were willing to let me burn.
I’d seen what Horous and his Order did to themarked, the ribcages hidden in chambers and fixed to their walls.
The thought that could have been me made my gut churn.
The thought that this was Fionn and hisbrother’s intention, too, terrified me.
I knew he wasn’t here to save me, only to finish what he and his brothers had begun .
But after what I’d done to Horous at theValari Kharun, I wasn’t sure I needed saving anymore. Maybe this parchment wasn’t just a relic. Maybe it was a weapon, one I could finally use to fight back.
Winding his way toward the beach, I noticed his torn clothing, tangled hair, and cut bloodied face.
Blood dripped down his cheek in a slow, steady line. He looked unbreakable but wounded in a way I had never seen before.
“Where are the Gatemen?” I asked, scrambling towards him.
“You don't need to worry about them,” he said. “They won't be bothering you again.” His tone made it clear he hadn’t shown mercy. Good, I thought. Neither had I.
A dark line of red slid down the side of his face, but a thin thread of blue ran through it, an unexpected shadow. The blood appeared tainted, almost poisoned. It was unusual to see him like this, wounded and almost human.
“Can’t you heal yourself like you did before?” I asked, unable to hide the confusion in my voice.
His gaze lingered on the dried blood at my fingertips, a dark shadow flickering in his eyes. “Vareth’s Mark doesn’t work that way,” he muttered. “It’s a reminder that he is in control.”
He wiped away some of the blood but more welled up beneath his fingers. Then his eyes lifted to meet mine, steady and controlled.
“Your concerns shouldn’t be for me,” he said.
“They’re not,” I replied. and it was true. But the monk’s words echoed in my mind .
Magic and power are in your blood.
What if my blood could heal his wound? The thought came uninvited, and I pushed it away. He didn't deserve anything from me.
“In truth, I am not concerned, especially after the way you and your brothers have treated me. I should feel happy watching you bleed out, but I’m not as shallow as you are.”
The anger in my voice surprised even me, but I didn’t hold it back. I wasn’t the girl they could push around anymore.
Tilly, I managed to survive, but only by a hair's breadth." He gazed up at the sky where I had emerged from the vortex. "Don’t mistake that for weakness. I don’t die easily.”
“Neither do I,” I shot back, the memory of Horous’s scream echoing through me as he passed through theGate. Fionn's eyes flicked to mine, but he didn’t hold my gaze.
“We need to leave this place, now.” He demanded. “I was fortunate enough to track you here. There won’t be a next time.” His jaw tightened as if the idea of losing me to this place irritated him more than it worried him. He looked towards the heavens.
“A thousand eyes are watching us. We can’t stay here much longer. We need to leave now.”
He turned and started walking along the beach. I had to practically run to keep up with him, my pulse still thundering from everything that had happened.
No matter what happened now, death felt like the only ending the brothers had waiting for me.
My hand brushed the parchment tucked at my waist, a reminder of the power the monk claimed lived in my blood.
If this was true. I wasn’t planning on being the one who died. Not by his hand. Not by anyone’s.
“I know this is a gateway to death,” I said, “but even so, I feel a powerful connection here.”
The voices stirred again. This time, I didn’t push them away.
We were taken. Came a small, whimpering whisper. She sounded so young.
We burned. Came an accented voice, a hint of French, threaded with pain.
Kill him, before he kills you! Came a third voice, stronger and more restrained.
Fionn stopped mid-stride, shoulders tensing. He didn’t turn, but his hand curled into a fist.
“Stay close,” he demanded.
I didn’t move because he commanded it. I moved because the voices were warning me about him. And for the first time, I felt like I belonged to their story, not his.
Their anger and grief pulsed through me, pain I couldn’t ignore. And in this moment, I understood why they hated him, why they feared him… and why they wanted me to strike first.
They believed I could free them. And for the first time, I believed I could too.
"This isn’t a place you want to feel connected to,” Fionn said, his jaw tightening.
“You’re the last person I would ever take advice from,” I retorted.
Fionn furrowed his brow.
“The madness grows stronger in places like this. You know that. I wouldn’t wish Vareth’s madness on anyone—not even you. But it’s buried deep within you, deeper than you realize.”
His words should have grounded me, but instead, they intensified the pull I felt toward this place.
“This isn’t the place to confront the curse. Now move, Tilly. If we stay, you’ll face a danger far greater than the Gatemen. This place is a crossroads—where life and death meet.”
“Then you're familiar with it,” I said.
Fionn sighed impatiently, looking at me. “This is the gateway to eternal darkness,” he said.
“This is where you and your brothers belong,” I blurted out. “Not the innocent Marked you’ve slaughtered.”
“Enough!” His voice rose above the thundering surf .
"I don’t trust you, and I don’t want to step through the vortex with you. To you, I’m nothing but a Mark! My life means nothing, my soul an offering to your Master, Vareth.”
His jaw tightened. “You wanted the truth, Tilly. Now that you have it, don’t place your fate at my feet. The only person who could have saved you is you. We gave you the choice. We told you to decide before the madness arrived.
But it came for you far more quickly than we anticipated. I could lie and say it will all work out, but it never ends well. Never. And don’t speak to me of innocence. Not all themarkedwere innocent. Some deserved theGate.”
I didn’t flinch. I just looked at the blue, poisoned blood on his face and tilted my head. “Is this what Seraphina conditioned you to believe? That if you label us all as monsters, your hands stay clean?”
He looked at me not with pity or cruelty, but with a cold glare that sent shivers down my spine. The mention of her name was a strike he hadn’t prepared for.
“The madness is already within you. I see it burning in your eyes and reflected in your actions now. We offered you mercy.”
My voice rose. “You were going to burn me alive, and you hid behind your mask like a coward, as if I would not see it was you. I saw your hand twitch. At first, I thought it was Cillian’s, hand, but it was you.
A muscle in his jaw ticked, the only sign my words had struck deeper than he wanted me to see.
I stepped closer, refusing to let the fear he was used to seeing in his victims settle in my bones.
“You see madness,” I said, “but I see guidance from the souls that have passed. The ones your world sacrificed to Vareth. And unlike the others, I’ve already shown I can control the whispers in my head.”
His eyes narrowed, assessing my words .
“Maybe that’s why you haven't stopped the curse” I continued, heat rising in my chest. “Maybe it's because you sacrificed them before they ever had the chance to make the correct choice. “But I can help them. I can free them.”
Fionn’s expression changed instantly, “Tilly… that’s exactly what Vareth’s madness wants you to believe.”
The air between us tightened,
“Don’t you want this to end?” I demanded.
He paused and gave me a careful once-over, a look that betrayed a bit of concern.
“The Marked. They had more time than you think.” A shadow crossed his expression, and his words were merciless.
“But the madness never stays hidden. It twists all the Marked into savages.”
He stepped closer, towering over me like those monoliths on the cliff. I refused to step back and show fear.
“We don’t end the Marked quickly because they are weak, Tilly. We finish them because they stop being themselves.”
His eyes instantly darkened. Though I felt uneasy, I refused to back down. If I wanted the truth, I had to face it.
“Fionn, this is your version of a story I cannot prove. What I see in front of me now is so much darkness,” I paused for a moment, then added, “...and a coward.”
He stepped even closer, close enough that the shadows around him seemed to move in.
“And if you see a coward when you look at me, Tilly… it’s only because you don’t yet understand what real strength costs.”
He didn’t look away.
“Cowards run from the darkness inside them.”
He paused, letting the weight of his words hang in the air. “I face it every day.”
The wind surged, pulling at the edges of the vortex behind us, but he still didn’t look away .
“Know this: I don’t fear easily. I’m not afraid of blood moons and their prophecies. Believe me when I say I’m not scared of the stars,” he said, his gaze dangerous.
“What are you afraid of? Or are you too much of a coward to say?”
“I don’t choose. I destroy whatever is in front of me—friend or foe, it doesn’t matter.”
His jaw clenched, a darkness flickering in his eyes. “The Marked don’t understand what they exude when madness takes them.”
Their terror hits me like a command.” He tapped his chest once, hard.. “Like a pulse under my skin, and Vareth takes the rest.”