Page 80 of The Ninth Element

Meanwhile, I spot Lila, and I see a flicker of guilt in her eyes. I gave her one of my coins in the last trial, and now it looks like hoarding them would have been the smarter move. I give her a reassuring nod, hoping she doesn’t think I’m secretly cursing her name.

Before I can ask Darian again if hereallywants to be paired with me, Martyshyar Kamran’s voice booms through the courtyard, silencing thenervous chatter. “This time, not all of you get to choose your partners. Your pairs will be determined by your rank. We will call your names in order, and you will name your partner.”

A collective groan erupts from the crowd. I look at the leaderboard, and my eyes land on Zanyar’s name at the top. Then it’s Faelas and Olanna, followed by Bahador and Samira. Maleed is next, right above me and Darian. So, if Faelas chooses Bahador, I can choose Darian.

“Zanyar of Firelands,” a seven-starred Martyshyar standing beside Martyshyar Kamran calls. “Choose your partner.”

Maleed and Kameel, standing beside Zanyar, both look at him with anticipation, clearly eager to be chosen, while beside them, Pippin looks like he’d rather be roasted on a spit.

“I choose Arien of Firelands.”

His words hit me like a poisoned arrow, freezing my blood. I stare at Zanyar in disbelief, my mouth hanging open. I notice Maleed and Kameel turn pale while Bahador and Faelas look as if they’ve swallowed live coals, their expressions a mix of shock and fury.

Darian takes a swift and instinctive step forward, positioning himself between me and Zanyar. But before any of us can react, before a single word of protest can be uttered, the Martyshyar bellows, “Faelas of Izadeon! Name your partner!”

Darian takes another step closer, standing face to face with Zanyar, and Faelas is too distracted by what’s happening to respond.

“Faelas of Izadeon!” the Martyshyar shouts again, his voice rising.

Faelas tugs on Darian’s arm. “Darian!”

But Darian is a wall of defiance. His gaze is locked on Zanyar, and a dangerous threat is etched on his expression.

“Faelas of Izadeon!” the Martyshyar roars, his patience wearing thin.

“I choose Darian of Izadeon,” Faelas declares quickly, holding Darian’s arm to stop him from approaching Zanyar any further.

“What’s your game here?” Darian’s voice holds a dangerous edge as he addresses Zanyar.

Zanyar doesn’t flinch, doesn’t even deign to acknowledge the outburst.He simply stares back at Darian with an expression full of icy indifference. His silence is a deliberate, contemptuous dismissal as if he doesn’t need to respond; his lack of reaction speaks volumes.

“I’m talking to you!” Darian roars.

“Darian,” I say, tugging on his sleeve. On his other side, Faelas also tries to pull him away.

Darian suddenly turns to me. “Isn’t it suspicious that he wants to be your partner now? He obviously wants to take you down with him.”

His words hit me like a brick, and a rush of anxiety has my gaze shooting to Zanyar. It is strange, to be sure. Zanyar has never shown an interest in partnership before. But choosing me intentionally to force me to lose? That is a shade of cruelty that I doubt he is capable of. But can I be sure? He is the most unreadable man I’ve ever known.

Zanyar looks unfazed by Darian’s accusation, but his eyes slowly move to me andstay. Even though his expression is as blank as a sheet of parchment, I can sense a hint of question in his eyes, as if he is wondering if I actually believe he would do such a thing.

Well, what does he expect? For me to just trust this sudden turn of attitude? But even if I don’t trust him, I don’t exactly have a choice.

I turn to Darian, trying to sound confident. “I’ll be fine.”

Darian’s brows shoot together in a frown. “Arien, you can’t trust him.”

I am starting to get annoyed. What does he expect me to do? Zanyar is ranked higher than I am, so if I don’t accept his pairing, I might as well kiss the competition goodbye. And where has he been the past nine days to now play the part of a concerned companion, anyway? I am not helpless. I don’t need a savior.

“I can take care of myself, Darian,” I say, my voice firm.

Darian looks taken aback and frowns at me. “I know you can. It’s not you I doubt; it’s him.”

“I can handle it,” I reply curtly.

He stares at me for a long moment as a vein in his neck bulges. He’s been acting this way since we returned from the mountains, like he has something to say but is too cowardly to say it. And I’m getting tired of it.

I turn my eyes to Zanyar, who is watching me with his usual icy stare. If he is amused by the drama, he doesn’t show it. He holds my gaze for a few moments, then turns back to Darian as if challenging him if he has anything else to say.

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