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

here when you get back.” He smiles, but it’s thin and watery and doesn’t reach his eyes.

Guilt nibbles the edges of my heart but not enough to stop me from fleeing the barracks.

Outside, the sun shines directly overhead, and warm light sifts through the canopy of leaves, dappling my skin and shimmering across the wooden platforms. I pull the humid air into my lungs and let it out slowly, feeling instantly lighter as I strike out across the nearest bridge. I don’t have a particular destination in mind, and I don’t know where anything is located in this treetop kingdom anyway, so I drift from platform to platform, past bustling markets and quieter clusters of homes. The Namagaans eye me curiously. A few offer tentative smiles or nod politely in passing, but no one attempts to talk to me. I’m so grateful for the reprieve—to not be summoned or scolded or shunned—I could cry.

After wandering for a good hour, I find myself standing in front of a long, boxy building that’s unremarkable save for the bundle of aloe leaves hanging over the door. The plant is expensive and rare, since it grows only in Namaag, so only the best imperial healers can afford to carry it on the battlefield.

I smile up at the bright green parcel. The Lady and Father always know just what I need. They have led me to the infirmary. To my king.

If Minoak is awake, he can fix all of this. He will be more forceful in his negotiations with King Ihsan and ensure we march on Verdenet before the Shoniin and Zemyans arrive. Seeing him alive and well will remind the shepherds that we never planned to hide out in the marshlands while the rest of the empire crumbles.

I limp up to the door, more eager than ever to see my king, but as I reach for the handle, the door swings inward and I stumble into a sobbing mess of a woman. Her turquoise dress is rumpled, the makeup across her eyebrows is smeared, and she catches herself against the door frame, as if her legs are too weak to support her weight.

She looks so disheveled, a long moment passes before I realize it’s Yatindra.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know anyone was leaving,” I say. “Are you okay?”

Is Minoak okay? I try to peer around her into the infirmary.

Yatindra glowers down at me, nearly a full hand taller. “My brother still hasn’t stirred, so no, I am not okay.”

“Oh.” I look away, trying to mask my disappointment. “I was hoping he’d be much improved by now. We all were.”

She gives a harsh little laugh. “Don’t pretend he matters to you.”

“What are you talking about? He’s my king. Of course he matters.”

“He matters inasmuch as you can use him. You don’t care about the actual man beneath the crown.”

“Why would you think that?” We rescued Minoak. We brought him here to recover. And we’re attempting to restore him to the throne of her home country. We’re on the same side, yet she swipes beneath her eyes and shoves past me, shaking her head with disgust.

I want to grab her long cattail hair and yank her back. Call out her ingratitude. But as I watch her storm away, I think about what Serik said—how worried and overwhelmed and afraid she must be—so I take a deep breath and limp after her.

I can be the bigger person. I can bridge this gap.

“Wait!” I call.

She hesitates before turning. “What?”

“I recognize how difficult all of this must be for you. We arrived with a lot of somber news. I don’t blame you for resenting us.”

She waves a dismissive hand. “I’m just grateful my brother and niece are alive. And I’d like to ensure they stay that way.”

“We’re united in that purpose.”

“Are we?” Yatindra challenges.

Her skepticism makes me want to scream. “Yes! And it would be considerably easier if your husband didn’t oppose our propositions to King Ihsan.”

She scoffs. “You’re missing the entire point.” Then she turns in a whirl of black hair and turquoise fabric and strides away.

I mumble curses at her back. What more does she expect us to do? She’s even more impossible than Ziva.

I stomp back to the infirmary, my bad leg throbbing painfully—and for nothing. I extended an olive branch, I tried to put myself out there, and Yatindra spat in my face.

At least I can tell Serik I tried.

Inside the infirmary, I jump at the sudden surge of darkness. Only two jars of lightning bugs illuminate the space, giving the night plenty of shadowed corners to occupy. The threads welcome me with nips and nuzzles as they usher me down the long hall. Rope beds line the walls and incense sticks burn on little golden plates, filling the air with cinnamon and orange smoke, but it isn’t enough to overwhelm the fetid tang of sickness.

A few of the beds are occupied with Namagaans—some resting with their eyes closed, others moaning and tossing with pain—but I make my way to the end of the hall, where two orange-clad sentries stand watch over a bed that’s finer than the rest. The frame is made of wood, the mattress is stuffed with feathers, and a sumptuous scarlet blanket covers the gray-haired figure underneath.

The guards jump to attention when they notice me and position themselves between me and King Minoak, spears crossed like bars. “Visitors aren’t permitted,” one of them says.

“I know for a fact that he just had a visitor.” I point to the door Yatindra exited.

“She’s the king’s sister.”

“And I am his subject.” I gesture to my dark hair and golden skin and tattooed calves, which indisputably mark me as Verdenese. “I’m the one who rescued him and brought him here.”

“Unfortunately, we cannot permit anyone other than the royal family near His Majesty.”

“By whose decree?” My voice quickly rises. “I just want to talk to him. It’s important. I’m responsible for so many—”

“It isn’t possible. He’s not even awake.”

“I have to see him!” It feels like my