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

and shake my head. It would be impossible for him to possess the same level of devotion when the foundations of Zemya are so inherently flawed. Yet a small, bewildering droplet of unease trickles down my neck because I can’t deny the quiet moments of humanity I saw in Torinth. Or how Ivandar’s healing ministrations eased the effects of the hot-spring water. Or the Zemyan prisoner who comforted the young Ashkarian warrior with her illusions.

Their magic is vile. I know this. But what I know and what I’ve seen aren’t adding up. I can’t reconcile the Zemyans I’ve battled for the past twelve years with the Zemyans I’ve seen these past twelve days.

I stop abruptly, refusing to carry even an inkling of doubt into my country. “If Ashkar attacked first and your people were only acting in self-defense, as you claim, why did they continue to attack Ashkar after the initial battle?”

Ivandar trips and blinks at me with his pale demon eyes. The only facet of his appearance he didn’t change with his messenger-boy disguise. “What are you talking about?”

“For centuries, the Zemyans have been crossing our border and sacking our villages. How could you possibly condone those actions?”

The prince continues gaping as if I’ve sprouted a second head. Finally he says, “We had to defend ourselves. Ashkar was always hammering at our border, and when that didn’t work, you swept into Namaag then Verdenet and Chotgor, forcing them to align with you.”

“We didn’t force anyone into an alliance! The induction of every Protected Territory into the Unified Empire was voluntary. We needed soldiers and resources, and they needed aid and protection—from you. It’s an equal partnership.”

“Is an alliance voluntary if one party is so desperate for relief they can’t refuse ‘aid,’ no matter the terms? Zemya had to make a stand or we knew we’d be next. We had to choose to be the hunter or the hunted. And, yes, there was spite and animosity, too,” he adds. “How could there not be when the Lady and Father cast Zemya from Their presence, refused to acknowledge Her innovative magic, then tried to squash Her and Her power altogether?”

“None of that is true!” I insist.

“It doesn’t matter which version of history is true!” Ivandar shouts over me. “That’s the entire point. All of this fighting is needless. And while we’re locked in this endless conflict, Kartok’s waging a completely different kind of war.”

I have nothing to say to that. Whatever Kartok’s up to—whether he’s laying siege to the heavens, stripping the Kalima of our powers, or something else entirely—none of it results in my glory and reinstatement.

I stare at the prince and force a small nod.

He dramatically brings a hand to his chest. “Have we finally found something we agree on?”

“I don’t agree with you,” I retort. “But I don’t entirely disagree, either.”

“You realize that makes no sense?”

“It doesn’t have to. And since we’re back in my country, we play by my rules. Please remove this horrid Zemyan skin suit at once.”

“Only because you said please,” Ivandar taunts as he passes his hand over me from top to bottom. The warmth of his skin raises goose bumps down my arms and legs. Or perhaps the involuntary shudders are from the chunks of ghost-white flesh dripping down my limbs. “Though, I still say the Zemyan form suits you …” he says with a peevish grin.

“Do you know what suits you? My fist. In your face.” With a flutter of my fingers, I chisel a small clenched fist out of ice and send it flying at his nose. It’s the largest weapon I’ve been able to conjure since I drained my power in the sea, and I smile proudly as it flies toward the slack-jawed prince, who, unfortunately, ducks at the last moment.

“Merciful seas, Ghoa! It was a joke!” he sputters. “You could have taken off my head.”

Now I’m the one sputtering. Not because I’m worried for his fool head but because he called me by name. The sound of it crashes against my temple like the hilt of a sword. Swift and jarring.

“This is no time for jokes,” I finally manage to bark. “And don’t address me so lightly.”

“Really?” He stomps closer as his own Zemyan disguise melts away. “We’ve been traveling together for nearly two weeks. Don’t you think we’ve reached a certain level of familiarity?” He slashes his hands downward with quick, broad strokes, painting his skin the color of linen and his hair and eyes a deep, syrupy brown. Seeing him like that—looking like me and my people—is even more unnerving than his natural form.

“No,” I say without further explanation. “And under no circumstances are you permitted to do more of that”—I wave an agitated hand at his unfamiliar features—“without my express consent.”

“I wouldn’t dream of doing anything without your consent.” He stalks past me, even though he doesn’t have the slightest idea where he’s going. “I’m guessing you don’t know where the Kalima will be, since Kartok wasn’t able to torture it out of you? And because they clearly want nothing to do with you,” he adds.

“You guessed wrong.” I surge forward, matching him stride for stride.

“Why would they go anywhere you could find them?”

“Because they’d never expect me to escape from my Zemyan captors—which is their second biggest mistake.”

He rolls his eyes. “So where will they be?”

“Sequestered at our rendezvous point, trying to regroup and form a plan of attack.”

“Where is the rendezvous point?”

I laugh in the prince’s face. No one beyond the Sky King and his most trusted warriors know about the ice caves hidden beneath the plains just north of Chotgor. I’m not about to tell the Zemyan heir, traveling companion or not.

“You’re really not going to tell me?” He sounds as if I owe him this. As if we’re truly partners on this quest. “You do realize you’re taking me there?”

“Precisely. You’ll find out soon enough. All you need to know is that you’d freeze to death if you tried to get there