Page 54

Before I know it, I’m sprinting through the streets, eager to get back to the others. The sun is sinking low in the sky, and the Ahiras and the Aramisis should be back by now, just as Zanyar had instructed.

When I finally reach the stables, I’m out of breath and drenched in sweat. I spot the Ahiras gathered together, whispering in a close circle. Zanyar stands a little apart, deep in thought. That usual serious look is etched on his face—the one that kept everyone away from him in Fire Temple.

I sprint to him. The moment my figure bursts into view, his expression transforms, and a flicker of relief changes his features as if he’d been holding his breath. I skid to a halt before him, chest heaving, lungs burning, gasping for air after the desperate race across half the town.

His eyes assess me quickly. “What’s wrong?”

“I… I have an idea,” I gasp, trying to catch my breath. “To call the Nohvan.”

Zanyar gives me a measured look. “Breathe first.”

I nod and take a few deep breaths. Pippin, Maleed, and Kameel have walked over and are looking at me with confusion.

“We need nine coins,” I finally manage a full sentence, looking at Zanyar. “Nine. Like in the story of the Nohvan.”

Kameel rolls his eyes. “Of course we do. That is the whole point of the trial.”

Zanyar, however, levels a long look at me, realization slowly spreading across his face. “Give me two of your coins,” he orders Kameel firmly.

Kameel immediately reaches into his pocket and offers his coins to Zanyar. I do the same as he takes out his five. Once all nine coins are in his hands, I watch with breathless anticipation, a fierce certainty blooming in my chest that the phantom is but a heartbeat away from manifesting.

But the coins remain stubbornly inert. Solid gold and unyielding, they nestle in Zanyar’s possession.

I feel disappointed. I was so sure. Deep down, an illogical but absolute conviction was telling me that this was the key. I glance at Zanyar, bracing for a look of dismissal at my foolish hope. But his face holds no such judgment nor any hint that he considers this spectacle concluded.

“Where are the others?” he asks Maleed.

“They went to get food,” Pippin replies, muttering something about his own empty belly.

Zanyar ignores him, his eyes turning to me. “We need nine people. Not nine coins.”

“What’s going on?” Maleed demands, frustration etched on his features, clearly chafing at this unspoken understanding between Zanyar and me that he is not included in .

But I pay him no heed. I know exactly what Zanyar means, and my heart beats with excitement again.

“Have you seen any other contenders around?” I ask Pippin, trying to sound calmer than I feel.

“Hey, hey, little wolf,” a familiar, booming voice breaks through the air.

I turn around and see Bahador walking toward me with the other Izadeonians and Lila. My eyes brighten as soon as I see them. We now have exactly nine people.

“Come over here,” I shout.

Zanyar doesn’t seem thrilled about our new additions but doesn’t object. Darian, on the other hand, is all warmth, stepping beside me and offering his usual, heart-stoppingly kind smile. “Why am I not surprised that you’ve discovered some sort of a secret?”

“In the second trial,” I begin, addressing the group as a whole, forcing my voice to remain steady, “the phantoms transformed into the coins we collected. I think we need to summon the Nohvan again from the coins.”

They all stare at me with varying shades of doubt, disbelief, and open skepticism, except for Zanyar and the Izadeonians. Maleed shakes his head slowly with utter contempt, probably already crowning me the village idiot.

“And how, precisely, do you propose we summon this phantom?” Kameel asks, his voice laced with doubt.

“Maybe if each of us contributes a coin? Nine of us, nine coins… like in the legend of Nohvan.”

The silence lingers for a long moment. Then, Darian reaches into his pocket without a word and pulls out one of his coins. “Only one way to find out,” he says, his gaze meeting mine, holding a silent reassurance.

I reach out and take my coins back from Zanyar, holding on to only one while placing the other back in my pouch.

I hold both of our coins in my hand, but nothing happens.

Zanyar then places one of his in my palm.

Bahador, Faelas, and Lila follow suit. Maleed rolls his eyes before pulling out one of his coins and adding it to the pile, followed by Kameel.

Pippin, however, hesitates, looking terrified.

“What are you waiting for?” Bahador snaps at him .

“What if Arien’s right?” Pippin whimpers. “There are only nine of us here. What if we’re the only ones who pass the trial? The last nine? And then we have to join Martysh?”

Pippin looks around, appearing as though he might cry. His gaze lands on Zanyar, who commands with an ice-cold voice that chills any man to the bone, “Give her one of your coins.”

Pippin trembles visibly as he reaches into his pocket, takes a coin out, and places it on my palm, above all the others.

I hold my breath, wondering for a brief moment if I was mistaken again.

When nothing happens after a few moments, I brace myself to admit defeat when the coins begin to heat up, growing so hot that I can barely hold them.

Just as I fear my palm might burn, the coins start to transform into a swirling mixture of dust, light, and sparks.

Suddenly, a fountain of light rises from my palm, spiraling around me and the others like a tornado until a golden Nohvan forms above our heads, much larger and brighter than the one from the second trial.

It spreads its majestic wings, moving them with graceful ease. And then, with a final mesmerizing maneuver, it begins to soar away.