Page 50

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.

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 he really wants to be paired with me, Martyshyar Kamran’s voice booms through the courtyard, silencing the nervous 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 and stay . 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.

Darian grinds his teeth but remains silent. He runs a frustrated hand through his hair, then takes a step back, his face betraying his anger.

I feel a pang of guilt. Maybe I shouldn’t have dismissed his concerns so quickly. Even though I don’t appreciate his sudden worry after ignoring me for days, it’s clear he cares deeply about my survival.

As I ponder my conflicted feelings, the Martyshyar finishes reading the names. No one is eliminated from the trials this time, as an even number of contenders remain in the game, forming nine pairs of two.

“You must return with your partner and nine coins combined before dawn,” Martyshyar Kamran calls out.

As always, he doesn’t wait for questions or reactions. He turns on his heel and marches away, leaving us to stew in our confusion.

“How many coins do you have?” I ask Zanyar as I pull my two out of my pouch.

“Five,” he responds.

Five! Heavens be good. I remember Lila describing how he fought four Jamshahis. He must have defeated them all. It means we only need two more. He doesn’t bother to show me his coins. I assume being at the top all his life means he doesn’t need to prove anything to anyone.

I look around at our surroundings. Darian and Faelas are standing beside me, along with Lila, whom Bahador chose as a partner.

Darian and Faelas have six coins combined, while Bahador and Lila have five.

I look at Kameel and Maleed, holding four coins, standing beside Zanyar.

Pippin is paired with Roshana, while the other Aramisi man is paired with Syriad, the last southern Myran standing in the game.

The Izadeonians and Ahiras look like an unlikely alliance, standing beside each other only because Zanyar and I are a pair.

Everyone is giving each other the side-eye.

There is not a snowball’s chance in the nine hells that these factions can find a common cause, which means Zanyar and I have to choose a group to work with.

While I weigh the merits and perils of each alliance, Zanyar, ever the leader, doesn’t wait for me to decide. “We’ll head to the stables now,” he orders the Ahiras.

I glance over at Darian and the Izadeonians, who are huddled together as they plot their strategy. Darian catches my gaze and gives me a reassuring nod. As always, his expression makes me feel both happy and flustered. Forcing myself to ignore the feeling he elicits, I turn back to my new alliance.

Kameel and Maleed look at me like they just swallowed a bad egg.

Pippin is his usual nervous self. And the two Aramisis seem to distrust me even more than the Firelanders.

Meanwhile, Syriad is eyeing me as though he wishes for nothing more than to give me a bone-crushing punch to avenge his Myran friends for what I did in the arena.

Zanyar begins outlining his plan, and I sigh, trying to tune out the alarms in my head. This is going to be a long day.