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

has the macabre air of a torture chamber, enhanced by the presence of a small white alligator curled up like a cat beside Ihsan. Its pink, milky eyes watch us, and it hisses when we approach the king, showing rows of razor-like teeth.

“Hush, Alamacus,” the Marsh King says with an indulgent tut. “These are our guests.”

The word guests has never sounded quite so menacing. I dart a glance at Serik, but he, of course, is already piling a plate with pastries and asking questions about the alligator as if it’s the most fascinating thing in the world.

I give the reptile a wide berth, pluck a roll from the tray, and settle into one of the simple wooden chairs set out for the rest of us. Murtaugh, Yatindra, and Ziva sweep into the room a moment later. Murtaugh arranges himself beside the king like a stone-faced sculpture, but Yatindra and Ziva cross the study to join me. I scour Yatindra’s face for any indication that she knows more than she should. Proof that Ziva let our secrets slip. But her face is placid, her smile serene, as they take the chairs across from me.

“I trust you slept well, Enebish?” Ziva asks through a large mouthful of scone.

“Like the dead. A thief could have crept in and robbed us and I wouldn’t have known it,” I say, even though I can feel Serik’s confused gaze from across the room.

King Ihsan stands and clears his throat, motioning for Serik to take the seat beside me. “We have much to discuss, and since King Minoak can’t participate in this council, his daughter has volunteered to represent him, under the guidance of her aunt and uncle. I presume you have no objection to this?” The Marsh King looks to us.

Oh, I have plenty of objections. Namely, we have no idea what she and Yatindra discussed last night. This could be a setup. But I shake my head.

“These are most unusual circumstances,” King Ihsan continues, pacing slowly through the center of the room—me and Serik on one side, Ziva and Yatindra on the other. Murtaugh and Alamacus stand sentinel at either end. “Never, in the history of Namaag, have refugees from Verdenet and Ashkar appeared in our swamp, seemingly bound together in purpose. My question is, what is that purpose?”

Ziva hurries to swallow an enormous bite and scoots to the edge of her seat, but Ihsan holds up a hand. “I am well aware of your views, Miss Yimeni. You made them quite clear last night. I want to hear from them.” He turns and peers down at me and Serik.

“I know these are strange circumstances, Your Majesty.” Serik stands and smooths his tunic, even though it’s wrinkled and soiled beyond hope. “And we shall elucidate on your every concern, but first we’d like to thank you for this munificent reception.” He’s using that strange, official tone again, and he tries to mimic the complicated bow the Namagaans perform when addressing their king—a combination of elaborate arm waving and crisscrossed legs. When the Namagaans do it, they look like a dove gently touching down on a branch. When Serik does it, he looks like an eagle crashing into a finch’s nest.

It’s so bumbling, it’s kind of adorable. But I’m the only one who thinks so. Ziva, Yatindra, Murtaugh, and even the king himself, look a breath away from laughter. I want to smack the cruel smirks off their faces. At least Serik’s making an effort.

You don’t have to overcompensate, I want to tell him. Just be yourself.

But that, right there, is the problem. In Serik’s mind, he has never been good enough.

“It all began with the shepherds freezing and starving on the winter grazing lands outside of Sagaan,” Serik resumes. “They usually endure the winter months on those fields with the help of Sun Stokers, but the Sky King withheld the Sun Stokers this year, then refused to provide shelter or aid. So we led the group south, toward Verdenet—where Enebish is from—with the hope we could appeal to King Minoak for refuge, in return for our help retaking Lutaar City from the imperial governor.”

“Who attempted to murder my father!” Ziva jumps to her feet, but Yatindra places a firm hand on the girl’s shoulder and pulls her back down.

“How did you know Lutaar City was seized?” Murtaugh asks. “We’ve heard nothing of it, and our relations are strong.” He points to his Verdenese wife.

“There were rumors …” I say, hating how flimsy it sounds.

“You dragged hundreds of people across the grasslands during winter based on a rumor?” King Ihsan stares at us, his craggy face pinched with disapproval. But he doesn’t understand. I knew it was more than just a rumor. Temujin may have lied about many things—nearly everything—but he wouldn’t lie about Verdenet.

“Technically, it isn’t a rumor if it’s true,” Ziva says matter-of-factly, and for the first time since meeting her, I appreciate her infuriating bravado. “The Sky King tried to have my father assassinated.”

“How do you know it was the Sky King and not a random mercenary?” King Ihsan demands.

“Because I was there! I drove a blade into the assassin’s back. I saw his blue-and-gold livery. The imperial governor’s voice filled the downstairs hall, for skies’ sake! They didn’t even attempt to hide their treachery.”

King Ihsan appraises the girl with greater interest. “You killed your father’s assailant?”

Ziva crosses her arms and attempts to scowl, but her lip quivers.

“Even prior to the assassination attempt,” I cut in, “the Sky King had been ravaging Verdenet—stripping the people of their culture and customs, forcing them to fight a war they had no stake in and no prayer of winning.”

“It’s true.” Ziva nods at me from across the aisle. “We were never treated with respect or given the protection we were promised.”

“And it’s the same in Chotgor,” I say. “They’re more like conquered slaves than imperial citizens.”

“Has this ‘situation’ in Chotgor been confirmed or is this another rumor?” Murtaugh asks archly, which earns him exasperated looks from