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

you really want to anger him, release me,” I dare her.

“So you can kill me and every living soul in this palace, then bring your bloodthirsty warriors back to vanquish the country? I think not.”

“Ah, there it is—your true opinion of me. I knew all of this congeniality was a sham.”

“You act as if my animosity isn’t merited,” she snaps. “You’ve been attacking us for centuries!”

“Your ancestors are the ones who started this endless war—attacking Ashkar even after they were banished for practicing wicked magic.”

The laughter that bursts from Hadassah is surprisingly low and cynical. “Is that the lie your king told you?”

“It’s what hundreds of years of records have told me. Zemya has always been the aggressor.”

“Wrong!” Hadassah’s vehemence makes me jump. “Ashkar attacked us. We had already been cast out, but that wasn’t enough. You wanted to utterly destroy us. To ensure we never cultivated our magic or thrived in this arid land. Our ancestors had to defend themselves. We are still defending ourselves.”

I glower at Hadassah and shake my head. The ancient Ashkarians had no reason to attack after the Zemyans were banished. All we’ve ever wanted was to be left alone, but the Zemyans couldn’t abandon their bitter grudges. “How must it feel,” I ask, “to be so thoroughly brainwashed? The entire foundation of your country is built on lies.”

“How can you be certain the lies weren’t shoved down your throat?” she volleys back.

“Because I know my people. I know my king.”

“And I know my empress.”

“What could a serving girl know of an empress?” I sneer.

Hadassah stands with a huff. “More than you’d think.” She stomps away, murmuring indignantly about how she’s never met anyone so thankless and arrogant and infuriating. I smile as her insults settle around my shoulders and warm me like the finest compliments.

“I’m trying to help you!” she shouts. “All I want in return is information on a man we both despise. You’d think that you would—”

“What?” I cut her off. “What did you honestly think? That I’d fall on your feet in gratitude? That we’d suddenly become bosom friends and trade secrets while brushing each other’s hair?” Pink floods her cheeks, encouraging me. “I didn’t ask for your help. That was your own poor decision. I owe you nothing. And I don’t give a damn about anyone or anything in this wretched country. Especially not the gallant ambitions of a prison servant.”

She halts in the center of the hall, rumpling the extravagant floor runner as she wheels back around. Her expression is desperate, her eyes pleading, but that stopped working on me years ago. I’ve run my saber through thousands of soldiers with pleading eyes.

“Don’t you have a scrap of honor?” she spits.

“No,” I say. And I mean it. Honor and integrity are what drive people to make selfless choices and irrational sacrifices. I have drive. Ambition. Pride.

“Well, doesn’t it bother you to be indebted to me?”

“No,” I say again, even though that’s the one thing that does, in fact, bother me.

“Don’t you care that you were healed by Zemyan magic? And that you liked it? I saw your face. I heard your moans. Is that something you can live with? You’re a hypocrite. Shackled to me. Haunted by this debt.”

Discomfort lifts the hairs down my neck, and I shiver now that the unnatural heat is no longer blazing through me. I’m not interested in being haunted by anyone or anything else after enduring Kartok’s specters, but I can’t let the girl know she hit a nerve. I harden my features and hold out my hands. “Unlock the shackles and I’ll tell you everything he’s said and done.”

“I already healed you!”

“Voluntarily. This is my price for the information.” I shake my hands and the iron rattles.

Hadassah mutters furiously but inserts the key into the lock. I groan as the shackles fall away, and gently massage my wrists.

“Well?” She puts her hands on her hips.

“Kartok attempted to nullify my Kalima power by forcing me to drink your hot-spring water, but it isn’t strong enough. Your unnatural magic never has been and never will be.”

Hadassah sighs with exasperation. “Did he try anything else?”

“Other than attempting to drown me in it? No. The water seemed to be his only plan.”

“If he thinks nullifying your powers is the key to winning the war, he won’t stop until he’s found a way. Did he make threats or say anything that points to what he might try next?”

“No. He didn’t give me a torture itinerary, unfortunately,” I say. Hadassah rolls her eyes. “He just asked about the Kalima’s numbers and rendezvous points—as if finding them will do any good. Then he scowled and repeated all of the tired old platitudes your people love about ensuring everyone has an equal opportunity in magic. Avenging and exalting Zemya. On and on and on.”

Hadassah deflates. “That’s all?”

I almost lie and say yes. I don’t want to believe I gave Kartok anything remotely helpful. But if I did, perhaps this Zemyan girl will understand his train of thought.

I force the words out. “There’s one more thing. Before Kartok left, I said the only way to thwart our Kalima powers would be to stop us from receiving them. I meant it as a taunt. So he’d see the futility of his quest. But he thanked me for finally saying ‘something useful.’ ”

“How could he sever your ability to receive power …?” Hadassah’s voice trails off.

“He obviously can’t. It’s impossible,” I say. Because it has to be.

But I don’t like the way the Zemyan girl’s forehead crumples, or how she worries her lip and mutters to herself as she leaves the throne room. As if she thinks it’s something he could actually accomplish.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

ENEBISH

THERE’S NOTHING TO DO BUT WAIT….

For King Ihsan’s scouts to return and confirm our reports of Verdenet and Chotgor.

For Minoak to wake and regain his strength.

For the Zemyans and Shoniin to arrive and ruin everything.

And I am the only one who seems worried or impatient.

In an unexpected show of generosity,