Page 115 of Unveiled

Xiathen’s voice echoed faintly from somewhere far away. “The third and final fault line is the heart of old magic. Stay together, and do not break—” Their voice cut off.

Adrian collapsed forward, feeling the mark tearing through him. He fell to his knees, Connor wrapped in his arms, both of them shaking violently.

The fault line roared.

The mark ruptured.

Their bond snapped taut, and white light swallowed them both.

***

Adrian awoke to find himself with a mouthful of grass. He sat up, spat out the grass, and took stock. He was still in the valley, and close by he could see the lights of Castle Brannigan burning.

Connor lay next to him, his eyes closed. The Spiral Grove had fallen silent, the trees frozen mid-twist, the fault line closed and glowing faintly like a quiet heartbeat.

Adrian brushed Connor’s hair from his forehead with shaking fingers. “Hey,” he whispered. “Open your eyes.”

Connor stirred, his eyelids fluttering. “Adrian,” he breathed.

Adrian exhaled shakily. “You scared the hell out of me.”

Connor grinned weakly. “I scared myself.”

They sat up and looked around.

“Let’s go home,” Connor grumbled. “I’ve had enough of this now.”

Adrian nodded, exhausted but resolute. “Did we stabilise them?”

“For tonight,” Connor murmured. “We’ll take it one day at a time.”

He stood and helped Adrian up, whose heart pounded with exhaustion and something deeper. Something fragile. Fierce. Inevitable.

Together, they walked back toward the castle lights. Behind them, the fault lines pulsed faintly. Not calm, not dormant, but waiting.

The valley had noticed the Kings’ strength.

And the Veil had too.

***

Adrian

The morning after the Fault Line March was too still. And that silence seemed more dangerous than the rifts themselves.

He and Connor sat in front of the fire in the dining room, a glass of whisky sat on the table between them. Around them, castle life went on as people returned to their normal routines. Food needed preparing, fences needed fixing, and children needed schooling.

A soft rustle cut through the firelight as Xiathen stepped into the room. He’d returned home to the Athenaeum last night to liaise with the Triarc and comfort the villagers. Castle Brannigan was not the only uneasy place right now.

The fort was under the watchful eye of Piper, who was doing her best to keep the peace. Cairo and Sallie chuffed softly when they saw them, then went back to their comfortable dozing.

Xiathen’s expression was grave, his arms full of scrolls, weathered parchment, and one object wrapped in dark violet silk. Both Julian and Connor straightened instantly.

Xiathen bowed his head. “The Triarc has completed their research. It has taken many moons, but they’ve found what the Council never wanted Valours to remember.” He smiled wearily. “I confess I didn’t know much of what I’m about to show you. They’ve kept it secret all these years.”

Adrian tensed. “You mean the mark? The bond?”

“No,” Xiathen said softly. “I mean the first two.”