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

I am the stench. A fact I’ve always known but refused to acknowledge. Because acknowledgment requires responsibility. And responsibility requires change.

Enebish glances back, and her dark eyes flicker with warning: Don’t ruin this. Don’t make me regret trusting you.

I want to roll my eyes. Or walk away, to prove she doesn’t command me. But the longer Enebish stares, the more the fist crushing my chest tightens. With a bone-weary sigh, I follow.

The reunion is gallingly sweet.

The little Verdenese princess clings to King Minoak’s waist and cries, “You came, you came, you came, you came.” She can’t stop repeating herself. Nor can she stop burying her face in his side. But I’m more drawn to his reaction: the tenderness in his eyes and the fierce pride he exudes as he pats her back.

It’s all so achingly familiar—the smiles and whispers of encouragement that always left me hungry for more. Pushed me to aspire. Would my parents be as proud of me for establishing peace as they were when I conquered? Would the people of Ashkar revere me more for defending them in battle or for calling a cease-fire?

Focus, Ghoa. White sprays the edges of my vision, bringing me back to the moment. The throbbing in my head resumes, punctuating a stern reprimand: Don’t forget the Kalima. Your revenge and rebirth. Nothing else matters.

But if it doesn’t matter, how do I explain the restlessness in my fingers when I accidentally look at the shepherds? Or the swelling in my chest when Ivandar gives me a small nod of approval?

Enebish bows to her king and the Namagaan ruler. “Our apologies for the hostile greeting, but we assumed you were Zemyans. After our expulsion from the marshlands, we had no reason to believe you would join us.”

“The weather was too foul to send word, even by eagle.” The desert king gestures across the frozen steppes.

It’s no longer snowing, but everything is glittering white and the wind claws at our cloaks. I’m the only one who isn’t hunched into a coat or cowering behind a sled, but with the amount of ice I’ve been collecting to lessen the chill and harden the path beneath the sleds, even I will be shivering before the day is through. Though, I’ll die before I admit this to anyone. I still don’t know how or why Enebish suspected my involvement. She should know me better than that.

Evidently, she knows you better than anyone.

“We followed your tracks and prayed we’d catch up before we were too late to help,” King Minoak continues. “But you managed to liberate the Chotgori without our assistance.” He admires the large hodgepodge group.

His approval feels like a targeted jab. The Unified Empire was never meant to be “unified” by anything other than Ashkar’s rule.

“Why come at all?” Serik blurts. “What changed?”

“You discovered I was right, didn’t you?” The little Night Spinner jabs a finger into her father’s chest. “Yatindra was lying. She betrayed Enebish to the enemy!”

The girl is self-assured and spirited—the type of warrior I would have welcomed into the Kalima.

Minoak places a loving but firm hand on her shoulder. “My sister was trying to protect us the best way she knew how. But yes. I discovered her hand in casting these people from Namaag and decided to make amends. I should have followed my brave daughter into the swamp the day you left. But I’m here now. And King Ihsan generously decided to join us.”

“With my forest in shambles, we’re in no position to defend against Zemya without aid. This is the only way forward—for everyone.” His gaze sweeps across the crowd, halting abruptly on me and Ivandar. His craggy face turns as red as his frostbitten nose.

Apparently, “everyone” doesn’t apply to the commander of the Kalima warriors or the Zemyan prince.

“What is the meaning of this?” he demands. “What are they doing here?”

The entire group turns to gape at us, including the shepherds and Chotgori, who are well aware of our presence and have been more than happy to accept our help.

“They weren’t with you before. Or part of your proposed alliance,” King Minoak barks.

“We didn’t seek them out,” Enebish responds carefully. “We ran into them outside of Chotgor. They were headed to warn the Kalima about a threat to the First Gods from the Zemyan generál, Kartok.”

The rulers exchange a dubious look. “And you believed them? Why would a Zemyan conspire against his own general?” King Ihsan inquires.

“Because he’s corrupt,” Ivandar says over Ihsan.

Both kings, and all of the Namagaan soldiers, glare at Ivandar. Then at me.

“You can’t possibly trust them,” Minoak says.

“We don’t,” Serik affirms. “Which is why we’re escorting them to the Kalima’s rendezvous point ourselves—to ensure they do exactly as they claim. That way, we’ll have done everything in our power to protect the gods and, hopefully, we can secure the Kalima’s support against Kartok.”

“You’re mad,” King Ihsan says.

“You’re wasting your time,” King Minoak agrees. “They’re deceiving you.”

“Maybe. But would you be able to live with yourselves if the First Gods perished and you could have prevented it?” Enebish asks, respectful but unflinching.

Once again I’m struck by her newfound confidence. By her willingness to trust and hope despite everything that’s happened.

Neither king responds. Their soldiers stand at attention, as if waiting for the signal to turn on us.

Go! the wind howls in my ears, urging me toward the Kalima and the promise of vindication. Say whatever you must to move them along.

Except now an inconvenient seedling of conscience whispers back. Are you certain that’s still what you want?

The headache I’ve been nursing since we left Zemya pummels my temples.

No matter what I choose, I have nothing to gain by standing here, hesitating.

“We’re nearly there, for skies’ sake!” I point at the blue-quartz ice caves less than half a league away. “It would be foolish to turn back now.”

I vowed on pain of death to never reveal the Kalima’s hidden refuge. But my warriors also vowed to never stab me in