Sky Breaker (Night Spinner Duology), Addie Thorley [100 books to read in a lifetime txt] 📗

the pit of my stomach becomes unbearable—like a starving sand cat gnawing at my bones. It reminds me of the monster I was so certain lived inside me. A monster I spent two years hiding from. A monster that turned out to be nothing more than a natural instinct to fight and protect myself. A warning of sorts.

Yes, I need to trust my allies, but I also need to trust my gut. And my gut says Ziva’s up to something.

I wiggle out of my itchy blanket and tiptoe to the door, not bothering to conceal myself with the night. First, because Ziva would notice. And second, because I don’t need to. She’s so focused on being silent and holding the darkness steady, I can trail her like an ordinary shadow.

She scampers across two swinging bridges and up an impossibly tall ladder to one of the largest treetop estates. I lag farther and farther behind, heaving for breath. This skies-forsaken city wasn’t made for people with injuries like mine. Thankfully, I manage to keep the princess in my sights, despite my slow, methodical pace. If I push myself too hard, I’ll stumble and fall and it will bring Ruya and every Namagaan soldier running. They’ll think I’m spying—which I am. But not on them.

My ascent up the ladder is slow and agonizing. The rungs are steep and I have to rest every few steps. By the time I finally reach the top, I’m so out of breath and out of sorts, I don’t notice Ziva’s round face hovering directly in front of mine.

“Why are you following me?” she demands.

I yelp and nearly tumble down the ladder, dangling for a terrifying moment before my fingernails sink into the wood. “Why are you creeping around like a bandit?” I accuse once I’m nose to nose with Ziva again.

“I just needed to retrieve my bag.” She slings the satchel off her shoulder and shakes it. “Is that all right with you?”

“That depends on why you felt the need to retrieve it while everyone was sleeping.”

“Because Yatindra said it would be better not to upset the group. She said it would look like I’m abandoning you if I’m seen leaving with all of my things.”

“Why would Yatindra care about upsetting us? She wasn’t concerned about our feelings in the banquet hall.”

Ziva glowers at me. “She is the reason we were admitted into Namaag. Show some gratitude. And I’m not the one who announced that we’re uncertain where to go and what to do next. If anyone is deceiving the group, it’s you.” She hefts her pack back onto her shoulder. “Are we done here?”

“I only said that because I didn’t want to trouble King Ihsan and seem too demanding when we’d only just arrived. And I don’t want to negotiate an alliance in front of the entire caravan. You’ve seen how they are.”

Ziva shakes her head like a disappointed parent. “You still refuse to trust any of us. Does Serik know you’re out here? Spying on me?”

“No. And he doesn’t need to know. This is between you and me. Just please, please, for the love of the Lady and Father, don’t do or say anything foolish. Don’t sabotage our negotiations and don’t utter a word about the Shoniin scout. No one can know we were spotted. Not even Yatindra.”

“Would you like to accompany me inside to make sure I mind my manners?” Ziva points at the mansion towering above us.

I grumble and start back down the ladder.

Once I reach our barracks, I shimmy beneath my blanket and command myself to sleep, but I can’t stop tossing and turning. Worrying about Ziva. And the Shoniin scout. And King Ihsan. And all of these shepherds, who look so grateful and content.

When the rustling of blankets finally marks the beginning of a new day, I feel even more exhausted than I did while trekking across the desert. Serik, however, sighs and stretches like a lazy cat—back arched and fingers kneading the blankets.

“I haven’t slept that well since I ‘accidentally’ locked myself in the abba’s chamber while cleaning his commode. Naturally, I had no choice but to sleep on his feathered bed while they dismantled the lock.” He looks at me with dancing eyes, and I try to summon a scandalized smile, but he recoils with a jerk. “Bleeding skies, En, you look awful.”

“Couldn’t sleep,” I say.

He scoots closer, making my skin prickle with heat. “You don’t need to worry so much. Things are finally looking up. For the first time in weeks, the shepherds are calm and hopeful, and I think King Ihsan will be amenable to our proposition with a bit of convincing.” He swings an arm around my shoulders and draws me even closer. “We’re doing everything right.”

Not me. I snuck out and followed Ziva just last night.

That’s what I should say.

But I can’t. Not when he’s looking at me with those soft hazel eyes. Not when I can feel his breath skimming across my face. So I say nothing at all.

An hour later Ruya and her stone-faced comrades escort us back to the Marsh King’s study, where we first met him. Today Ihsan has opted to wear a simple leaf-embroidered tunic rather than his dressing gown. A definite improvement, but I’d hardly call it regal. And he sits in a shabby leather armchair, so soft it nearly swallows him. A fire roars in the hearth and an array of honeyed scones and nutty muffins are laid out alongside a pitcher of liquid that smells like sap. Ihsan even smiles good-naturedly, as if we’re visiting dignitaries rather than hunted refugees.

The ruse no longer works on me. Not after last night.

“Please, help yourself.” Ihsan gestures to the spread, but my eyes immediately stray to the hundreds of framed insects adorning the walls. Creatures I’ve never seen before with needle-thin noses and long, spindly legs that have been stretched beyond their limits. Delicate, opalescent wings have been punctured and held down with pins. It