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

be the ringing in my ears, but it almost sounds as if her voice catches.

“You know it’s not,” I whisper.

For all her flaws, Ghoa is also bold and courageous and self-sacrificing.

All ideal qualities in a goddess.

As if summoned by the thought, the Lady’s aura rises once more, looking bewildered for a moment before settling into this new skin. “The transition is usually immediate,” She pants, “but Ghoa refused to cooperate at first. Then she made several demands … one of which was speaking to you, which I’m trying to honor.” Her face pinches with strain and Her breath grows heavy.

I stare at the Lady of the Sky. Unable to comprehend what She’s saying, what I’m seeing. “What do you mean the transition is usually immediate? That makes it sound as if this has happened before.”

“It has. Three times. I believe you know them well: Jamukha, Zen, and Ciamar.”

“The Goddess-touched?”

She nods. “There’s a reason so few people have achieved that designation. It isn’t enough to simply be devout or to make a grand demonstration of faith, worthy of legend. It requires sacrificing oneself for my sake. For the benefit of the whole.”

“Are you saying Ghoa is Goddess-touched?”

“Why do you sound so skeptical?” Once again Ghoa’s indignation propels her to the forefront, though her lips are cocked in a grin. “Is it so hard to believe?”

“Yes! You didn’t even believe in the First Gods until we were thrust into Their realm. You wouldn’t sacrifice yourself for either of Them.”

“You’re right. It wasn’t for Them.”

My hands catapult into the air and I leap from the settee. “Doesn’t the Lady have a problem with that?”

Ghoa looks down at her lap, and her voice grows as soft as a whisper of darkness. “Why would She ever have a problem with love? What could be more powerful as the source of Her new life?”

It’s the closest Ghoa has ever come to admitting that she loves me, and it does something to my insides. My chest feels like it’s collapsing and expanding all at once. My eyes flood with tears of rage and gratitude.

You don’t get to do this! I want to scream. You don’t get to ruin my life and then expect to undo the damage by jumping off a cliff and claiming to love me.

I don’t want to forgive her. No one has ever hurt me more. Yet I’m desperate to throw myself into her arms one final time because no one has ever sacrificed so much for me either. And no one has taught me so much—both the good and the bad. Aspirations and warnings. Like it or not, Ghoa shaped me like a sculptor, carving away the excess material to reveal the person I would become.

Ghoa places a hand over mine—her skin far too soft and clean, without a single callus from her saber. “You know I’ve never been good with words, and I know it will never be enough, but I’m sorry, En. I hope you felt it on the mountaintop. But I wanted to say it. Needed to say it.”

A tear slides down Ghoa’s face—one of the few I’ve ever seen her shed. The only one that doesn’t harden into ice before it drips from her chin. It makes her feel so much more human, so much more fallible and real. It’s only when she reaches out and touches a gentle finger to my cheek that I realize I’m crying too.

“I’m out of time,” she murmurs.

She starts to pull away, but I grab her hand, suddenly not ready to let go. “What does that even mean? Where will you go?”

“I’ll slowly fade as the Lady strengthens. Whatever remains of me will eventually join the other Goddess-touched warriors outside the palace. I believe there’s a lovely length of golden rope waiting for me. Though, I have a sneaking suspicion the others won’t be eager to welcome me,” she says with a wry smile. “Eternity will be interesting.”

I’d assumed the dimness of the Goddess-touched warriors was due to the advancing dark of nothingness, but it’s all that remains of them after giving their life for the Lady of the Sky.

I try to picture Ghoa among their ranks, standing serenely beside Jamukha and Zen and Ciamar—the tether between the First Gods and the world. And it’s all wrong. Ghoa is action and speed and skill. She is decisiveness and control and ruthlessness.

I tighten my grip, crushing her fingers. “But the other Goddess-touched warriors returned to Ashkar to live out the remainder of their lives before returning here. That’s the entire point! Sacrificing your life for the Goddess so She can continue to give life to us all. It’s one eternal round.”

“Just because the Lady isn’t giving me new life doesn’t mean She isn’t honoring Her debt.” Ghoa gently peels my fingers from hers.

“What does that mean?”

“It means I chose to give my reward to someone else. Zemya needs a wise, compassionate leader far more than Ashkar needs another washed-up warrior.”

“You’re not washed-up. And the prince?”

Her smile is sly, but her gaze is heavy. Maybe even sentimental. “Tell Ivandar that if I were capable of respecting or caring for a Zemyan, it would be him. I expect him to name his first daughter for me. To ensure I’ll always have the final word. And tell Serik he was right—he’s a far better warrior than I ever gave him credit for. But I’d still whip him in the sparring ring. And you, En—”

Her voice chokes off and her eyes go vacant. I swear I can see the scars on her arms fading one by one. She shrinks steadily lower, ceding ground to the Goddess. Almost gone. But with a gasp, as if emerging from underwater, Ghoa musters the strength for one last charge. “I know you wield the darkness, but for me, you have always been the light.”

She lifts her trembling hands, I expect to give me a final Kalima salute, but she drapes them around my neck and pulls me close. Hugging me.

She still smells