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

and trade contracts and arrangements to send Ashkarians to Namaag and Chotgor and Verdenet for apprenticeships. So they can learn to hunt and fish and cast gold—actual trades by which to make a living, rather than sucking the resources from other nations. It’s a complete reversal; the very people Ashkar set out to “stabilize” are best equipped for success and self-sufficiency. They always have been.

“The council wants to see you,” Ziva says to me.

“Why?” I furrow my brow. “I have no place in these negotiations.”

I don’t want a place, I add silently.

“You’re obviously going to be punished …” Serik wags his eyebrows. “You led a rogue rebellion and committed dozens of crimes against each country and ruler.”

Ziva laughs and rolls her eyes at Serik. “They want to see you, too.”

He hooks his elbow through mine and gives me a surprising peck on the cheek. “Just as well. If they plan to take one of us down, they’ll have to take us down together.”

The entire council stands when Serik and I enter the small room at the back of a tavern. The space is unremarkable in every way—small and cramped with too many tables and benches, everything soaked in the smell of ale and oiled wood. Which would be pleasant enough if it didn’t make me think of another group that met in the back of a tavern and their tiger-eyed leader who helped me find the strength and confidence to fight, only to become my opponent on the opposite side of the battlefield.

King Minoak steps forward. Behind him, Ivandar sits between King Ihsan and his orange-clad guards and the Chotgori clan leaders. Varren and the other Kalima warriors round out the group—the closest thing Ashkar has to a ruler at present.

Minoak waits for Ziva to rejoin him before addressing me and Serik. “We owe you both an incredible debt. Through your bravery and determination, the entire continent is free and united for the first time in centuries. In order to maintain this peace, we have unanimously decided to retain a group of Kalima warriors—”

“But how—” I interject.

“You may not be able to wield the sky,” King Minoak speaks over me, “but the need for an elite group of warriors, comprised of members from each country, is undeniable. And we would like you, Enebish, to lead this new battalion with Serik as your second, if you’re willing.”

Serik’s hands tighten around my arm and he wheezes, “We are willing!”

But I can’t bring myself to immediately agree. My eyes feel as if they’re bulging out of my skull as I look from face to face. From Ihsan’s craggy complexion, to the golden skin of my rulers from Verdenet, to the blizzard-white Zemyans to the flame-haired Chotgori. All so different, yet not different at all. Not in the ways that truly matter.

My fingers drift to the traitor’s mark on my face, then down the old, purple scars on my arm. “You want me to serve as commander?”

The title carries so much weight and responsibility. So much longing and resentment.

“You’ve proven yourself more than capable,” Minoak says, smiling proudly at me. They’re all smiling proudly. Restoring my honor and position, exactly as I’ve always wanted. More than I could have dreamed.

But the words of an old Verdenese proverb fill my mind. One my mother used to sing when we were plagued by summer droughts or when Zemyans raided Nashab Marketplace, or when I complained about my chores and the sweltering heat:

The desert is the cruelest cradle. Sun and sand strip flesh from bone.

But bone can break and then rebuild, making man as strong as stone.

There’s no denying that the past few months have broken me. Shattered me into a thousand tiny pieces. And only one place is harsh enough and unforgiving enough to cleanse and harden and reshape me. To knit me back together, joining the dreams and aspirations I’ve always had with this new person I’m becoming.

“I’m most grateful for the honor,” I say, bowing to each respective ruler. “But I don’t wish to return to the army.”

“What?” The smallest flicker of heat surges from Serik’s body as he turns to gape at me. I can’t bring myself to look at him. I’ll be tempted to change my mind if I do. Anything to avoid the disappointment and betrayal undoubtedly haunting his eyes. But I can’t disappoint or betray myself either.

“We can’t give up this chance!” Serik insists. “This is what you’ve always wanted—what we’ve always wanted. Riding into battle side by side.”

I give a little shrug. “Hopefully there isn’t a battle to ride into—not for a long while. And circumstances change. What I thought I wanted isn’t what I actually need. I hope you can understand that. I’m not asking you to give up anything.”

Serik sputters and pulls at his hair, long enough to hang in his eyes now. “Don’t be ridiculous! I can’t just run off and join the Kalima without you!”

“You can and you should. A bird has wings for a reason, Serik. Let them carry you where you need to go, then fly back to me. We can have what we need and each other. It doesn’t have to be a choice. Just as it never had to be a choice for the First Gods.”

His hazel eyes find mine—hurt but understanding. “What do you want, En?” he asks softly.

What do I want?

I don’t know how to vocalize the breadth of it, but when I close my eyes, I picture it so clearly: the sand between my toes and the sun on my cheeks. Sandals cutting into my heels and the sweet scent of a grass roof lulling me to sleep. The sound of my mother’s voice on the wind and the taste of my father’s lentil stew on my tongue.

I want to return to Verdenet.

Not to recreate a time that was before. But to charge forward—into the future by way of the past. To continue reviving and fortifying my home and my people.

And, hopefully, myself.

EPILOGUE

ENEBISH SIX MONTHS LATER

ZIVA DROPS HER