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

“We’ll perish if we cross the grasslands now,” another says.

“We somehow managed the trek.” I wave at the disguised shepherds behind me.

“Please, Commander. There’s no need to punish us. We’ve done our duty. The Chotgori miners know nothing about the Sky King or Sagaan—”

“I will be the one who judges whether or not you’ve done your duty.” With a slash of my hand, gleaming spears of ice burst from the snowdrifts and fly toward the inane warriors. The ice isn’t all that sharp, or terribly quick, but the soldiers dash off toward the other outbuildings, screaming with absolute terror.

As soon as they’re out of sight, I release a long breath and lean against the very wall I chastised them for slouching against.

Being myself has never been this draining.

“You can’t be tired already, oh great Commander,” Serik jeers from his place in the ranks. “You’re just getting started.”

“Do you honestly treat people like that?” Ivandar asks softly.

Enebish laughs. “That was Ghoa being kind….”

“It’s what my position requires,” I grumble. “I don’t have a choice.” But my voice fades away completely. Because I do have a choice. “Enough chitter-chatter,” I snap. “You’re the ones who wanted me to lead you as the commander. Now keep up. And keep quiet.”

I lead my battalion of “warriors” into the center of the outbuildings, where we watch the actual imperial warriors hustle between barracks, collecting their belongings and supplies. Every few seconds, they steal anxious glances at me, which I make sure to answer with stern scowls of disapproval.

“You’re supposed to be prepared to march at a moment’s notice!” I yell. “What if the Zemyans had arrived before I did? You’d be dead. We would have ceded even more ground to the enemy. Hurry!”

“We have to pack in turns.” A panting warrior points to the mines. “To ensure the workers remain compliant.”

“What do you think this entire battalion is for?” I shoot a furtive look at Enebish and wave them on. She starts to march ahead, but Serik grabs her arm and holds her back, glowering at me as if he’s not going to cooperate, even though this song and dance was his idea.

I can’t hear him, but I don’t need to. The words are as plain as day on his lips: She could betray us.

The very same thought has been circling my mind like a prowling wolf. It would be so easy to turn on them. Once they’re down in the mines “freeing” the Chotgori, I could join with the imperial warriors. Tell them everything. They would happily help me entrap these rebels alongside the Chotgori. I could storm into the Kalima’s stronghold flanked by actual soldiers, rather than shepherds.

Enebish glances back at me. Her dark eyes search mine—desperate, imploring.

I stare back, freezing my face into an expressionless mask, giving nothing away because there’s nothing to give away—not yet.

After a long second, Enebish starts toward the mines and the others follow, marching in swift straight lines, as instructed. A few minutes later, streams of actual soldiers pour into the encampment from the mines. I fold my arms and watch them scramble to pack.

Cold. Aloof. Without a speck of compassion.

But on the inside, another wave of exhaustion pummels me.

“What is the meaning of this, Commander?” A lined and graying warrior storms up to me, face livid. I should definitely know his name, as he’s one of the highest-ranking magic-barren generals, but I never bothered to learn it. “You can’t just cast us into the tundra in the middle of winter!”

The bustle of packing slows. Frost varnishes the hairs on my arms as the other warriors turn to watch, gauging my reaction, as if it never occurred to them to question me.

Part of me wants to react how I would have a few short months ago—to let ice consume my hair and cascade down my arms to my fingertips. To chisel a dagger, hold it against his throat, and ask him in a dangerous whisper if he’s certain he wants to go down this path.

But I set my teeth into what I hope looks like a smile and say, “I’m not casting you into the tundra. You’ve done such an impressive job up here, holding Arisilon City, we need your battalions’ strength in the capital. We need your leadership and experience. I know the journey won’t be easy, but I have every confidence your warriors will manage it.”

The man furrows his brow even lower, trying to hide the pleased smile tugging at his lips, but it has already crept into his eyes. “I just didn’t expect to see you up here, Commander. There are rumors—”

“You know better than to believe rumors,” I cut him off.

“I assume you’ll be leading us back?” he asks.

Tell him everything. Now is your chance.

But the words don’t come. They won’t come. My lips part, but my mind is slow and sluggish, almost as if it’s frozen. Patterns of frost embroider my vision.

Stay the course. It will serve you better in the end.

As improbable as that seems, I decide to trust myself. Trust my instincts. They’re the only thing that hasn’t abandoned or betrayed me.

“You assume incorrectly,” I finally answer. “I’m not returning to Sagaan quite yet.”

That makes the old man’s frown return. “Where will you go? If the capital is in such dire straits, shouldn’t you—”

“Do everything in my power to defend it. I assure you, I am. In the absence of the Sky King, I must coordinate the many arms of this war. I go where I’m needed most, which is everywhere at present. If you do not wish to accept this honor and promotion, I’ll find another general who’s more loyal to Ashkar. General Akiba would already be halfway across the steppes by now.”

General Akiba is the only magic-barren general whose name I do remember, and I only remember it because he’s a fool. Always bumbling and smiling merrily, as if he’s leading a dance troupe rather than a cadre of warriors. The idea that