Page 69 of Unveiled

They moved before the last word had even settled in the air.

The Nightwrought recoiled, its shape thinning into a veil of fractured shadow. The air shivered around it, a brittle ripple running through the clearing. It surged, twisting awkwardly.

Connor didn’t wait. He lunged, boots tearing across moss and dirt, blade arcing in a sharp, decisive strike. The creature flared, scattering like smoke caught in a windstorm, but not fast enough. “Now,” he barked.

Connor watched as Adrian darted left, cutting off the creature’s escape path. His silver knife caught the faintest glint of starlight as he swept it through the air, forcing the Nightwrought back. Max closed in from the opposite side, his broad shoulders lowering into a defensive stance, ready to intercept.

The Nightwrought spasmed. A pulse of cold ruptured out of it in an almost-sound, sharp and unnatural.

Fraser barrelled through it, teeth bared, momentum carrying him into a sweeping kick that disrupted the creature’s attempt to reform. “You’re not going anywhere,” he snarled.

The Nightwrought shuddered violently, as if its own shape were betraying it, edges fraying, dark veins peeling away from whatever held it together. It tried again to surge up, re-forming a single jagged limb. But Connor was already there. He brought his blade down hard and precise.

The strike cut through the unstable mass, splitting it cleanly. Shadows split like torn cloth, unravelling, scattering into shards of cold light and brittle static. A second pulse rippled like a thin, sharp frost cracking along a windowpane.

The Nightwrought collapsed in on itself, dissolving into a dying shimmer. A soft, fractured sigh drifted through the clearing, and it vanished. Completely.

Silence rushed in behind it like a held breath finally released. Connor lifted his blade, chest rising and falling from exertion.

Take that, you little fucker.

Adrian glanced around the clearing. Max lowered his stance. Fraser shivered, muttering, “Ugly bit of magic, that.”

Xiathen nodded, sorrow and warning in his eyes. “It will not be the last.”

Then Irial sobbed. Adrian reached her first, kneeling beside her, hands hovering cautiously. “Irial, look at me.”

She lifted her head, eyes wild and shimmering with exhausted magic. “It called,” she whispered. “Not with sound, with memory. My memory. I thought… I thought it was someone I’d lost. Someone I missed.”

Xiathen exhaled shakily. “They should not be able to reach you like this.”

Fraser crouched beside her. “Let’s get you home.”

Connor stepped forward. “You’re safe now, lass.”

Irial collapsed, and Connor caught her without hesitation. She clung to him, shaking as if thawing from deep frost. “We’re here,” Connor murmured. “We’ve got you.”

Adrian rose. “We need to move quickly. That one was weak. Others might follow the rip.”

Xiathen nodded. “Irial is bound to the emotional heart of the village. If they are reaching for her, they are reaching for all of us.”

Connor tightened his grip around Irial. “Then they’ll answer to us.”

Max swept the woods with a final glance. “Let’s take her home.”

Together, with Connor carrying Irial, Adrian supporting Xiathen through the thickening dark, Max and Fraser shielding their flanks, they left the hollow behind. The forest closed in with a hush that felt almost grateful.

Behind him, the ancient oak stood silent once more, and the last echo of the Nightwrought’s brittle, shattering sound faded into the cold Highland air.

***

Adrian

They reached the outskirts of Glengáill as the mist began to settle again, rolling between the cottages like slow breath. The lanterns outside The Dry Pig flickered with their usual warm, amber glow. Yet tonight, even that familiar light felt fragile.

Irial stirred in Connor’s hold, her head lifting weakly from his shoulder. “Home,” she whispered, her voice thin as frost smoke.

“Aye,” Connor said softly. “You’re safe now.” Adrian opened the inn’s door before Connor could reach it. Heat spilled out as firelight, soup, and the scent of herbs met with it the low murmur of frightened voices. Word had already spread. Piper was the first to reach them. “Oh Irial.” She pressed a trembling hand to her mouth before gathering the young woman into her arms. “You scared us all half to death.”