Page 33 of Unveiled

Adrian pressed a hand to his mark. “So the Council didn’t miscalculate. They didn’t lose control.”

“No,” Xiathen whispered. “They manoeuvred us. All of us. Straight into their hands.”

Silence settled. Heavy. Inevitable. Until Connor stepped forward, fury etched in every line of him. “They may have set the board,” he said, his voice like steel on stone, “but they didn’t account for one thing.”

Adrian looked up, his eyes shining with defiance. And something else. Hope. “And what is that?” he murmured.

Connor’s answer came like a vow. “We’re not theirs to claim.”

Adrian nodded. “Well said.”

“We must reinforce the bond,” Melanus said.

“So be it,” Xiathen responded. He motioned to Connor and Adrian. “Stand back-to-back once again, please.”

The two men moved as instructed. Xiathen laid a hand on Connor’s shoulder. His voice dropped. “Not Entity,” he said softly, as if correcting the world itself. “Not merely watcher.”

The Triarc shifted as one. Melanus’s pale gaze sharpening, Cariah’s mouth tight-lipped, Salis turning her blank eyes toward Connor as if seeing the shape of him without sight. They lifted their hands toward the dark line where the village’s air thinned and the Highlands began.

“Veilwarden,” Cariah intoned, the word landing like stone in water.

Salis echoed it, small and absolute. “Veilwarden.”

Melanus’s smile was faint, solemn. “Veilwarden.” She turned to Adrian. “The Marked has already been named. And the Veilwarden stands beside him, anchor and fang, boundary and blade.”

Xiathen inclined his head, reverent and unyielding. “Hold the line, Connor Brannigan. Let no hunger cross unchallenged. Let no oath be taken without consequence.”

Cariah’s voice roughened, as if the air itself resisted. “If the Council of Veils comes seeking what they set in motion—”

Salis finished, whisper-thin, “They will find the Veilwarden first.”

Xiathen caught his breath. “There is more to tell you, and answers to give, but we are tired now. Best meet us tomorrow by the old well, and I will try to answer what you’ve been seeking.”

Chapter Eleven

Connor

Connor nodded reluctantly. He’d have liked to continue, but truthfully, he wanted some time to organise his thoughts, and from the drawn look on Adrian’s face, the Frenchman could do with some rest. Whatever was on his collarbone had been irritating him and he found himself rubbing it constantly.

“Very well. Tomorrow we’ll come back and you can tell us more. I need to understand what we’re facing and how to protect ourselves. No more woo-woo. I need definitive answers. I need to make sure all our people are safe.”

Xiathen inclined his head. “You shall have them, to the best of our ability. This is something we need to research to find the answers you seek.”

“Good. I’ll be here at nine tomorrow.

He turned to Adrian, and said, “I’ll see you then. Get some rest, and if anything happens—like more of those shadowy things lurking around—call me. It’s best we address this threat together.”

Adrian smiled faintly. “You simply can’t help being a bossy bastard, can you? Normally, I’d rip someone’s throat out for daring to tell me what to do. For you, I seem to have more tolerance.”

He walked toward the inn door. “Tomorrow, then. Stay safe, everyone.” He disappeared outside, and Connor watched him go.

Bossy bastard, am I? You haven’t even scratched the surface, my friend.

***

The next morning, on his way to meet Xiathen, Connor remained in no mood for any more riddles or secrets. He’d already planned a solo shift for tonight to get rid of the pent-up frustrations he was carrying.

He’d barely made it down the main street—if you could call a single ribbon of cobbles stitched between slate-roofed cottages and low stone walls a street—before people began to notice them. Not in a gawping, touristy way. More like the way an animal notices a change in wind direction.