Page 47 of The Ninth Element

“We are not just anyone! We are Martysh, protectors of the continent! Who better to wield the Star’s might? Any other hands on it would spell disaster.”

“I don’t disagree. But we still don’t know what secrets Bernold discoveredbefore his death. His writings were taken by the Ahiras, remember? Perhaps he wrote of something that gives them an advantage and helps them find the fragments before we do. It is far wiser to unite with them, to combine our knowledge and seek the Star together.”

“Unite with them?” Mitara scoffs, clearly aghast. “Imagine those treacherous bastards with the Star’s power coursing through their veins! Bending the elements to their will! Do you believe they would ever relinquish such power? No one would. That is the curse of the Star. It corrupts as surely as it provides. No one but Martysh should ever possess it. Especially not those Ahira snakes.”

Kamran sighs again, releasing a sound of weary patience. “Look, I understand your distrust. I share it. But now, with Daevas in Jamshah andthemalso joining the hunt for the Star’s fragments outside of Izadeon, we must utilize every tool at our disposal. I know you don’t trust the Ahiras. But an alliance with them, however distasteful, is surely preferable to the Daevas finding a fragment, don’t you agree?”

Martyshgard Mitara’s voice is tight when she responds, “That’s a complication we certainly didn’t need. And why Jamshah’s forest all of a sudden? My latest reports indicate they’re still active in Izadeon, searching for the earth fragment.”

“Perhaps they’re dividing their forces. Thinking there’s another slice in the forest,” Kamran suggests.

“But why Jamshah, specifically?”

“Maybe they forced some words out of Bernold before killing him,” Kamran wonders.

Darian’s grip on my hand tightens further, and Faelas’s ragged breathing is now clearly audible. Whoever this Bernold was, his death is clearly important to them.

“Thirteen years is a long time, Kamran,” Mitara says. “Whatever led them to believe a fragment of the Star hides in Jamshah must be a recent discovery. Never have so many sorcerous Daevas gathered in one place since the Great War.” A note of deep concern enters her voice. “They must be absolutely certain there is a fragment there. If we alert Firelands withthis clue, they will also start their search in Jamshah. They are already breathing down our necks in the search for the light fragment in the Gajari deserts. And their shadow has loomed over the Maravanian coasts for years. We still don’t know how they discovered the sound fragment is hidden there. We cannot afford their interference in the forests as well.”

“Whatever brought the Daevas to Jamshah, we cannot allow it to continue,” Kamran says with a grim voice. “They must be stopped before some innocent poor soul crosses paths with them and gets himself killed.”

“Agreed.” Mitara lets out a deflated sigh. “Zareen… has he made any move?”

Zareen? I frown. Does she mean Zanyar? Making a move?! What is she talking about? I lean more as though that will help me listen, my ears straining to catch every word.

“We are watching him closely,” Kamran assures her. “He spends his time training and in the library but keeps his distance. No signs of treachery yet.”

“Perhaps he is seeking help from the others. Knowing we are watching him.”

“We are watching them as well,” Kamran says.

Zanyar must have come here for some mission. But what kind of mission requires a High Lord’s son? Not knowing is eating at me. Ineedto know what’s going on!

“Martyshbod still thinks he is here on Emmengar’s orders?” Mitara asks.

“Why else would Emmengar send his prized successor?” Kamran responds with a dry voice.

I share a knowing look with the Izadeonians. Could the mission that Zanyar was sent here to fulfill be related to thisStarthat apparently Firelands, Daevas, and Martysh are all after?

“Enough of this grim talk. Ready for another round?”

I cut the magical thread as Martyshgard Mitara rises, presumably heading to the bar.

I look up at the stunned, pale faces of the Izadeonians. “Who is Bernold?” I ask with a hushed voice.

Darian, Faelas, and Bahador exchange heavy glances, and a tense silence stretches on. Finally, Darian responds, “He was Izadeon’s advising Ahira. The one who was murdered beside Faelas’s father.”

Chapter Sixteen

A throbbing pain pulses behind my eyes. With a groan, I attempt to sit up, but a sharp stabbing sensation in my head and a dizzying thrum send me crashing back down.

Squinting, I strain to make sense of the surrounding shadows. Massive, curved shapes loom overhead, but they aren’t the familiar contours of my room’s ceiling where I last closed my eyes. Jagged silhouettes flicker at the edge of my vision.

This isn’t any place I recognize within the castle walls.

My senses feel sluggish, as though I have been drugged, and the air is thick with a musty, metallic scent that churns my stomach, but I manage to turn onto my side toward the only source of light. High above, a crack in the darkness offers a sliver of moonlight.

Memories of the previous night surface in fragments—laughter, Shemiran’s market, the bite of ale, a disturbing conversation among the Martysh folks, a ride back up the mountains with eerily silent Izadeonians, going to bed, and then… a frustrating void.

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