Page 103 of Unveiled

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.”