Page 31 of The Ninth Element

Six arrows! At once!

My breath hitches. This isn’t a trial; it is a bloodbath. It feels almost as if we are being hunted.

“Great work, Arien. One more step,” he rasps, but his voice is barely audible over the pounding of my heart.

The pedestal looms before us, but that single step feels like a vast, terrifying chasm. My heart thunders, each beat urging me to turn back. My mind screams, asking for self-preservation after that last attack. Every muscle in my body tenses, coiled and ready to flee from this terrible place.

As if the sheer force of my terror has called out to him, Darian turns, his gaze immediately latching onto mine. For a moment, his eyes search mine, and a silent conversation passes between us in the charged air. He gives a slight, firm nod as if he can indeed hear the frantic voices clawing at my sanity. Strangely, the simple act of meeting his steady gaze is enough to calm the storm inside me, or at least enough to silence the wild, desperate urge to bolt.

I nod in response. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, I hold it, bracing myself for the inevitable. And then, we step forward one last time, not back to back, but side by side.

And then… all nine hells erupt.

My eyes widen as a storm of arrows is unleashed from every direction. My gaze darts frantically… my mind scrambling… I try to track the trajectories… trying to decide which arrow to deflect—but it is a futile exercise. There are too many!

Any time now,I think as a cold dread settles in my stomach,we’ll be dead.

A strong arm tackles me to the ground, and in a move straight out of some heroic ballad, Darian’s body lies on top of mine, pressing me to the hard stone floor as his body shields mine.

A symphony of metal clashing erupts above us, where our heads were only a moment ago. The chamber itself seems to shudder under the onslaught, the echoes bouncing off the walls like a chorus of doom. I hear the clatter of arrowheads raining down on the stone floor and Darian’s back as his body protects me from the rain of arrows…

And then…

Silence…

“Are you all right?” I gasp, my voice choked with fear.

Did those arrows pierce his back? Is he alive? He remains motionless for a few heart-stopping moments, and then, with a groan, he pushes himself off me and slowly rises to his feet.

“Are you hurt?” I repeat, still sprawled on the cold stone.

“Fine,” he grumbles, wincing as he shifts. “Stay down.”

Darian’s tunic looks torn, and hints of red begin to spoil the fabric. But none of that stops him from gingerly reaching for the golden coins as he scans the room like a hawk, ready to dodge any surprise attacks.

Thankfully, nothing happens as he picks up the coins and pockets them. When he is satisfied that no arrow is coming, he offers me a hand and pulls me to my feet.

We stand back-to-back, and slowly and cautiously, we retreat, our eyes darting around for any sign of danger. This time, however, no arrows come our way. Finally, we reach the edge of the chamber and relief floods through me like a cool wave. Without wasting a moment, Darian grabs my hand again, and we sprint out of the crypt, leaving the darkness and its cruel assault behind.

It isn’t long before we burst through the doors of the keep. The cool night air hits us like a refreshing splash of water as we dash across the courtyard, and the long table comes into view. I see Zanyar and Maleed standing there already, their own golden coins gleaming triumphantly in the moonlight.

We aren’t the first.

The sting of that realization is not pleasant, but it is nothing compared to the burning resentment that it was the Ahiras who had bested us.It doesn’t matter,I tell myself fiercely, trying to push down the wave of bitterness.Second place is just as good.

Eager to claim our hard-earned reward, I surge forward, but Darian’s hand suddenly closes around my arm, stopping me short.

“Hold on, Arien. I have to warn the others first.”

He reaches beneath his tunic and pulls out a small, unassuming white seashell dangling from a weathered cord. Three sharp blasts echo through the courtyard, a jarring cacophony from such a small object that makes my ears ring.

“I’ll be back soon,” Darian promises.

But my heart aches for the glory of victory. Darian, poised to run, must have noticed my desperate glance at the long table because he hesitates, and his gaze holds mine. When he speaks, his voice is thick with guilt. “I’m sorry, Arien, but I have to… "

As much as my fingers itch to place those coins on the table, I know that Darian’s loyalty to his fellowship outweighs my personal greed. So, with a heavy heart, I nod and watch him run toward the library, leaving me alone with my turbulent thoughts.

Just as his silhouette merges with the night, Samira and Olanna, the two Jamshahi women I’d seen earlier, emerge from the main keep. Without breaking their sprint to the table, Olanna unleashes a unique whistle with a practiced flick of her fingers and lips. It’s a series of low, melodic chirps that reverberate through the courtyard like a language of its own. Within moments, they reach the table and deposit their coins, securing second place in the trial.

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