Page 65 of The Ninth Element

“Darian,” I snap, cutting through his self-pity, “save the brooding for later. We need to move. This place is a death trap and that thing… I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“It was a hydralisk. A nasty leftover from the Great War.” The way he speaks, it sounds like he’s seen this horror of a creature before. “Those things infest our waters, a real pain in the neck. I’ve fought them before, but never this far from the coast.”

“How could something like that exist here? So close to Shemiran? To Jahanwatch?”

“The wilderness is a monster playground, Arien. Even the heart of the realm isn’t safe. The mountains, the forests, the deserts—they’re all crawling with altered monsters.”

“If one of those things is lurking in the water, there could be others hiding in the shadows. We can’t stay here. Jahanwatch is west of the Albir Mountains. We need to head uphill, westward, until we find a good lookout point.”

Darian only nods.

“Can you walk?” I ask, eyeing him with concern.

His eyes hold an emotion I can’t quite read. “I’ll manage.”

I pull out a bundle of herbs from my pouch. “Mix these with your water. It’ll speed up your recovery.”

Following a winding road lined with stone walls, we begin our trek westward. Keeping close to the river, we search for an opening in the towering peaks, hoping to climb up into higher terrain. As the sun climbs higher, a low rumble of thunder echoes on the wind, like a grim display of the mountains’s might.

When the sun finally decides to stop playing hide-and-seek behind the clouds, we sit for a break. Darian cautiously wades into the river, but fortunately, no tentacle emerges from the water this time. Instead, Darian skillfully spears a fish with his sword. A few sparks later, complemented by some excellent fire-starting skills, we have a crackling blaze going.

“Well, aren’t you the wilderness type,” I say, trying to lighten the mood. He has been unnaturally quiet since he’s woken up.

Darian just shrugs casually. “Just another day in the life of a wandering Izadeonian.”

“Must be nice. It’s all headache, sore muscles, and a general sense ofimpending doom for me after my peaceful library life in Firelands.” I smile at him, ignoring the fact that my feet are screaming for mercy. “But we will endure. We will win this trial. I’m sure of it.”

He nods slowly, but the gesture does nothing to ease the grim set of his mouth or the furrow in his brow. We sit in silence, lost in our own thoughts.

Darian suddenly breaks the quiet. “Any idea why they’d throw us in this godforsaken hole together? Think the others got the same treatment? Are they wandering around in pairs, too?”

“Maybe they matched us based on our choices during the second trial? Maybe that’s the advantage?” I wonder.

“It’s possible,” he agrees, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, a gesture that seems more weary than casual. He lets his hand drop to his knee, staring down at it. “Well, it definitely worked to my advantage; otherwise, I’d be nothing more than dead meat for the hydralisk by now. However, for you, being paired with me feels more like a disadvantage.” His voice is somber and self-deprecating.

“Oh, come now, Darian. We still have more than a day to find our way back. We can do this!” I say, forcing a brightness into my tone that I don’t feel. I try a reassuring smile, but I’m not sure it reaches my eyes.

He sighs and doesn’t look at me. “How in the nine hells did they knock us out like that? One moment, I’m standing in my quarter, and then I wake up here to face a hydralisk.”

“It must be the bands.” I tap my own wrist thoughtfully. “Some sort of magic they whirl into their weaving so that they can cast their spells on us from afar.”

“Sneaky bastards. They really thought of everything, didn’t they?” he mutters, raking a hand through his hair in exasperation, his jaw tight.

“Apparently so. But we’re going to escape this blasted place and show those Martyshyars what we are made of. Together.”

He finally looks up at me, a faint, wry smile twisting his lips. “Together.”

Our path remains clear—westward—and we resume our journey. As the sun dips lower in the sky, the mountain stubbornly refuses to ease ourpassage. Only several hours later, we reach a slightly less vertical rock than its neighbor. I glance up. It is still very steep, but there is no other choice. We urgently need to move upward instead of westward.

“You can do it?” Darian asks me.

“I’ve practiced climbing rocks for years, expecting it would be necessary for Martysh’s life,” I say.

“Good. You go up first. I’ll guide you.”

He lifts me with ease, and I wedge my foot into a slot in the rock face. “Trust your handholds, and don’t look down. Follow my instructions.”

I take a deep breath and start my climb, watchful for any kind of purchase in the rock face. Darian’s voice is a steady stream of instructions from below, guiding my every move.

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