Sky Breaker (Night Spinner Duology) by Addie Thorley (best beach reads .txt) 📗

sparring ring. He was strong but I was fast, and no matter how many times we fought, it ended in a draw. Until, one day, it didn’t. His eyes met mine and, with an unspoken nod of agreement, he let my fist crash against his temple.

I generally despise quitters, but this was different. Varren’s surrender was a message. A vow. He would defer to me. He would put my needs above his own. And it solidified his place at my side. He’s been as steady and immovable as the Ondor Mountains ever since. A quiet, towering presence. My rock.

“Varren, please,” I beg, hating the waver in my voice.

Our eyes lock, just as they did that day in the sparring ring, but instead of yielding, he straightens in his chair and his face twists into a scowl. It makes the dragon tattoo prowling down his cheek look like it’s baring its teeth.

“A more competent commander would have spirited me to safety and captured the traitors,” the Sky King continues. “There’s no room for error during these tumultuous times. Certainly not if you wish to lead my most elite regiment.”

A cannonball of outrage slams into my chest. Blowing me to bits as my mind fits together the pieces of their treachery. “You planned this from the beginning.” I laugh bitterly as I point at each of them, coming to rest on the king. “I haven’t had your trust or confidence since the attack, have I? That’s why you allowed me to ride out on so many scouting missions—so you could sharpen the knife to stab in my back.”

“We had no choice,” the Sky King says, calm as ever. “We knew you wouldn’t go quietly, and now is hardly the time for infighting. You can tell people you chose to step down, if you wish,” he adds as if he’s doing me some great favor.

Anger howls through me. My hair grows heavy with frost and my cheeks crackle like ice. I let out a guttural scream because I have given this country everything. Everything! I can’t just tell people I stepped down. I refuse to be removed at all. Never, in the history of Ashkar, has a commander of the Kalima warriors relinquished their title for any reason other than death. I would be the only one. The embodiment of disgrace and failure. I wouldn’t be able to show my face anywhere in the empire. Not even at my parents’ estate.

Especially not there.

Memories rise before me—their smiling, tearstained faces on the day I was sworn in as Commander; their pride so tangible, I could reach out and clutch it to my armored chest.

I refuse to have that ripped away.

With a growl, I unsheathe my saber and hold it out in front of me. “If you wish to remove me, you’ll have to kill me.” Then I extend my left arm and push the frost and fury swirling in my core out through my fingertips, forming a glittering blade identical to the one in my right hand. I swing the twin sabers in front of me and stare my warriors down, daring them to attack.

More than half of the Kalima shoot to their feet, and that deliberate act of betrayal hurts so much, I nearly whimper in pain.

But I bite back my screams. Sever my emotions.

I don’t need these traitors.

And I don’t want them.

I stomp my boot into the floor and a thick coating of ice sweeps beneath the table and chairs, slicker than the Amereti in winter. I lower my head and bare my teeth, but before I can charge into the room, an earth-shattering rumble shakes the walls of the treasury. The steel vault groans. Books and quills clatter from the shelves and slide across the ice.

“Earthquake!” Cirina yells, ducking beneath the table for cover. But this doesn’t feel like any earthquake I’ve experienced. The shudders come in waves. Almost like detonating cannons. Only harsher. Stronger.

“What in the name of the Sky King …” I turn and squint down the hall. A second later, the massive glass dome over the stairs splinters. The cowards behind me scream as shards of colored glass fall like rain—even though we’re in no danger of being hit.

I remain silent. Still.

Listening. Watching.

It’s almost as if we’re under attack, but from whom? The Zemyans are advancing, but they couldn’t have reached Sagaan this quickly. They only just captured Ivolga. And Temujin and his pitiful rebels don’t have this kind of firepower. They’re all magic-barren deserters.

Save for one.

Enebish’s scarred face fills my mind: twisted with outrage during our argument in the spire salon. As if I did something unforgivable at Nariin rather than what was necessary to defend our country and fortify the Kalima. We needed a strong leader after Chinua’s death. Someone seasoned and dependable. It would have been disastrous if I’d been removed. Plus, the merchants could have easily been Zemyans. I had to counteract the threat.

Another boom shakes the walls, and my muscles stiffen with ice—harden with certainty.

“Don’t you have a scrap of honor?” I scream for my sister as I jog toward the shattered dome. “How can you turn your back on your family and country like this?”

How can you?

I don’t know if she actually spoke, or if it’s the ghost of her voice spitting the accusation back at me, but Enebish’s face fills my mind again, bristling with fury and snarling for revenge. She looks just as she did before she flung her starfire at my chest—like an executioner wielding her blade.

There’s a moment of eerie quiet. Like the deep gasp of breath before a scream.

Then every shred of light is sucked out of the treasury.

CHAPTER FOUR

ENEBISH

THE DESERT SKYLINE FLARES WITH LIGHT. A SECOND LATER, vicious heat sears past me as the starfire I summoned slams into the crest of the nearest dune. Sand sprays into the air, even higher than the explosion Serik created to destroy the Shoniin’s encampment in the Eternal Blue. The debris blots out the stars and bitten moon. It