Page 95 of The Ninth Element

Samira sinks to her knees and watches me with disbelief. I give her a nod of reassurance and place the coin in my pocket.

“Let’s get back before someone else decides to tempt fate,” Faelas urges.

Darian’s face is a thundercloud, dark and turbulent, and his eyes burn into me with a furious intensity. He seems to be making a deliberate effort to hold back the full force of his anger. I manage a weak, wobbly smile to reassure him.

Faelas steps back as far as he can against the narrow pillar, staring into the gap. I shut my eyes tight again, not wanting to see him jump. A moment later, I hear his boots scrape against the stone and a muffled curse. He’s made it, but not without a struggle.

As he rises to his feet, all eyes turn to Samira. The knowledge that shehas enough coins seems to have given her new courage. She jumps in a graceful arc. This time, her landing is much more assured when her feet find traction on the slick stone. She stumbles, but she throws herself forward to land hard on the pillar’s surface. A grunt escapes her lips, and her face twists in a grimace, suggesting she may have hurt herself, but she is safe. The worst is over. The next two jumps will be easy for someone of her strength.

All eyes are on me now, as my jump is the next most difficult after Samira and Faelas’s.

“Careful, Arien,” Darian warns.

I take a step back, trying to repeat how I managed to jump here a short while ago, but I stop at the sound of sobbing.

Roshana is sitting at the edge of the cliff, and tears are streaming down her face. It seems like she was paralyzed by her fear of heights or the knowledge that one or even two jumps wouldn’t provide her with enough coins, and now she is finally succumbing to her despair. I can’t help but feel remorse for her distress.

“What are you waiting for, Arien?” Darian asks impatiently. His gaze is fixed on me, and he is pointedly ignoring Roshana’s distress.

“Should we just abandon her?” I ask, gesturing toward Roshana.

“She needs five coins,” Faelas states with a flat voice. “Even if one of us makes it to the third row, she won’t have enough.”

A frantic calculation of coins and leaps is swirling in my head. Suppose Roshana could somehow find the courage fortwojumps; that still leaves three, requiring three people to risk more jumps. The thought is a cold weight in my stomach. How can I ask that of others? My gaze involuntarily drifts to my own third pillar. The distance is a dizzying, impossible span.

“Arien.” Darian’s voice is a low growl, like a warning rumble that cuts through my thoughts. “By the Nine, if you even think about trying that jump, I’ll leap across this chasm right now and drag you back myself.”

It might sound like an empty threat, but the raw intensity blazing in his eyes and the steel in his voice tells me he’s dead serious.

“She trusted us,” I argue, my voice trembling slightly. I turn back to thegroup, trying to appeal to their sense of honor. “She put her faith in us, in our alliance. We wouldn’t even be here if she hadn’t stepped through those gates with us. Unity got us this far. We can’t abandon her now.”

“Fine words, but empty,” Faelas retorts, his sharp voice cutting through my impassioned plea. “Are you suggesting that Darian and Bahador risk their lives for a cause that’s already lost? Be realistic, Arien.”

“I… I didn’t say… ” I stammer, but that’s exactly what I’d been thinking, I realize with a great deal of guilt.

“Then what, Arien?” Faelas’s voice cracks with frustration, snapping at me. “How do you propose we magically conjure up five more coins?”

Darian’s eyes flick to Faelas, and I notice a silent rebuke and a command for restraint in his gaze that immediately silences Faelas. Then, he addresses me with a much softer voice. “Arien. There’s no path to victory for her. I’d jump myself if you ask me. But I won’t stand by and watch you risk your life on that third row. It’s too dangerous. Let’s go back. There’s no shame in survival.”

I tear my gaze away from Darian. Deep down, I know he is right, but my heart is a painful knot in my chest. I look at Roshana and see the crushing weight of despair and a great amount of helplessness in her face. Darian’s right. There’s no logical solution. But abandoning her, leaving her to this… this defeat… it feels wrong. I’ve been helpless countless times in my life as others looked the other way. I know how it feels.

My mind scrambles, desperately searching for an alternative, a loophole, anything, but the Gajaris are notoriously indifferent, offering no help, especially to an Aramisi. And I can’t,I won’t, ask Darian or Bahador to risk their lives for a stranger.

“I’ll help her.”

I whirl around when I hear Zanyar’s words, staring at him in disbelief. But his expression is serious, and his gaze is determined.

Bahador scoffs with a sound of pure incredulity. “And how, pray tell, do you intend to do that? Sprout wings?”

Zanyar ignores him, and his eyes don’t leave mine. “Go back to the edge. I’ll take care of her.”

“How?” I demand, needing to understand, to believe.

“Just go back,” he repeats, his voice softening slightly but still holding that core of steel. “You have my word.”

His words, so simple, so certain, strangely quell my doubts with a trust I can’t explain, a confidence that has no logical basis. I really don’t understand myself, my reactions, or my thoughts when it comes to him. Never did. So I simply nod, knowing in my heart he speaks true, and take a step back, preparing to jump.

Taking a deep breath, I launch myself across the chasm again. This time, the landing is rougher and less graceful—a desperate scramble for purchase as sweat beads on my forehead—but I make it through.

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