Page 79 of The Ninth Element

“You’re right. I shouldn’t be mad. You owe me nothing. We’re strangers. It wasn’t fair for me to have any expectations in the first place. That’s why I’m asking you to just pretend I don’t exist. Don’t track me through storms.Don’t leave cryptic gifts behind. If your actions are not meant to help me win these trials, then don’t help me at all.”

Zanyar seems genuinely lost. He opens and closes his mouth, clearly struggling to find the right words. It is a sight I’d never witnessed before, and honestly, it is somewhat satisfying. Finally, he manages to sputter out, “Have you considered my offer?”

“Yes,” I say, staring right back at him. “And I’m not interested.”

His lips press into a thin, white line, and I’m not sure if I imagine it, but it seems as though his eyes shutter—even the coldness that is usually in them is dissolving. “Why?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because there’s no guarantee that the envoy position would even be approved by the council. Or that I’d even enjoy being in Aravan. Or maybe it’s because I have no idea why a man who was a complete stranger until yesterday is suddenly offering me a coveted position. No, thank you!”

His jaw clenches. “We are not strangers.”

“Right.” I roll my eyes. “Forgive me for forgetting all those delightful strolls we took through the Firelands gardens. My memory must be failing me.”

“Arien—”

“Stop saying my name like we’re old friends,” I interrupt him. “We’re not. And that’s exactly why I’m not accepting your offer. I’m not about to abandon my dreams for an enigmatic offer made by some enigmatic sorcerer I barely know.”

His grip loosens, but he doesn’t release me. He doesn’t look angry. He looks… thoughtful. His eyes search mine as if he’s actuallyconsideringmy words and weighing them.

Before I can make another try at an escape, a strange warmth spreads through my wrist. I glance down and see the golden coin embedded in the Martysh band glowing faintly, and it is getting hotter by the moment. Zanyar’s eyes drop to his wrist, and I realize his band is glowing, too.

We exchange a look of surprise and confusion. The coin becomes too hot, too fast, that I’m worried it might burn my skin.

“We’re being summoned,” Zanyar says with a grave voice.

The next trial is about to start.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

It feels like a war campaign has been announced. Contenders are spread everywhere across the courtyard, and everyone looks confused and lost.

Darian, Bahador, and Faelas run into the ward, and they are a sight to behold. Their hair is a mess, and they seem to have raced in from some wild adventure. As I wonder if they’re returning from a secret mission about the Star, Zanyar and I walk to the center of the ward, joining the rest of the contenders waiting in the chaos.

Martyshyar Kamran is standing on top of the main keep’s stairs, surrounded by his loyal subordinates. The three Izadeonians join me, and Darian gives Zanyar a nasty look before standing beside me. When he looks at me, his usual gentle smile brightens his face and makes my heart dance.

Gods, I miss him. I didn’t realize until now how much I’ve come to rely on his calming presence. It’s been only a few days of seeing each other less than usual, and it already feels like I have lost my lifelong friend. I smile back, trying to hide the fact that my heart is trying to escape my chest.

“Well, at least they gave us a notice this time,” Bahador mutters.

“Do you have your pouches ready?” I ask as I check my own supplies.

Bahador nods, and a grin spreads across his face. “And your potions, too.”

I return his smile and notice Darian giving Zanyar another suspicious look.

“As you can imagine,” Martyshyar Kamran’s voice vibrates through the inner ward, “the fifth trial is here to ruin your day. This one, like the second, requires a partner.”

I glance at Darian, who gives me a reassuring nod. To be honest, I wasn’t entirely sure about him wanting to be paired with me again. He’s been as unavailable as a shadow in the Gajari deserts lately. But at least it seems like he considers me an ally for the trials, even if he doesn’t outside of them.

“In the second trial, each of you collected one coin, and in the third trial, you gathered more. To succeed in this trial, you must have a total of nine coins, combined with your partner. Add your coins together. If you have nine, you’ve passed. If not, you will need to find the remaining coins hidden in Shemiran.”

A ripple of movement sweeps through the assembled contenders as everyone begins assessing each other, their gazes darting from face to face. This pairing isn’t like last time. This isn’t about old alliances or finding a compatible skill set. The more coins a pair possesses, the greater their chances of victory. And suddenly, every interaction, every glance, is loaded with a new calculation.

“Are you sure about this?” I ask Darian, trying to keep the nervousness out of my voice. “I only have two coins.”

Darian’s response is a withering frown as if I’d just said something absurd. “Of course, Arien. You and I are always together.”

This trial is a massive test of our alliances, with the added bonus of potentially throwing those alliances into chaos. After all, who needs loyalty when you can have more golden coins with a different partner? But Darian doesn’t seem to be fazed. He just stands there, radiating absolute confidence in our partnership.

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