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

as if that’s the end of the discussion. My heart falls into an abyss even deeper than the ore mines.

When we first left Sagaan, I was so sure the other Protected Territories would rally to our cause. It never occurred to me that convincing people to fight for their freedom would be even more difficult than traversing the continent with the shepherds.

Yet here we are. About to be turned away. Again.

Serik shifts with discomfort, and the side of my body burns like I’m standing too close to a fire. Ziva keeps shooting me worried glances, as if I have the slightest clue how to change their minds.

I want to lie down in the street and let the snowdrifts buryme, but I tilt my head back and send an exhausted prayer up to the heavens.

Before I’ve even uttered two words, the other young chieftain steps forward, links arms with the first, and says something to the matriarch, respectful but stern. As they debate, the other chieftains join one side or the other, and the clanspeople bustle around to follow their respective leaders.

I feel like I haven’t breathed in well over a minute. Serik reaches for my hand and our fingers tangle, squeezing hard.

Finally the matriarch stands alone on one side of the street with a good third of the Chotgori surrounding her. The other chieftains stand together on the opposite side of the road, their people flooding the space behind them. The matriarch waves her gnarled hands and snaps something.

Our original supporter turns to us with a smile. “The sick and elderly, as well as their caretakers, will stay to recover and rebuild. The rest of us will happily join you on your quest to save the First Gods and free the territories. We will not sit back and be enslaved again.”

The eldest chieftain looks anything but happy, but I bow at the waist and murmur a heartfelt thanks. Because it’s the pledge we’ve been waiting to hear since the start of our journey, when we left the winter grazing lands in search of allies. Our path has been riddled with more potholes and hills than flat stretches of easy road, but we got here eventually. Surely the rest will be downhill.

Between the shepherds and the Chotgori, our group is several thousand strong. We may not be the most fearsome or battle-trained, but there are warriors from our countries on the front lines who are. Citizens from the Protected Territories that the Sky King ripped from their homes and forced into service. When they hear of the union and uprising, they’ll defect to our side. Hopefully the Kalima will lend their aid too, once they realize Kartok is trying to strip them of their powers. We all must ban together against the Zemyan generál or there might not be any continent left to fight over.

“You’re wasting your time and energy!” Temujin says as several Chotgori men dump him into the back of a sled. He’s still bound, and apparently in need of a gag, too. “You needn’t fear Kartok. He would never endanger the continent. He’s committed to justice and equality for all.”

Surprisingly, Ghoa is the first to respond. With every armload of supplies she carried from the barracks to the sleds, her spine grew a little taller, her expression a little harder, morphing from bewilderment into resolve. She leans over the side of the sled and blows wisps of icy breath in Temujin’s face. “Tell me, deserter, if Kartok is such a devoted ally, why hasn’t he come for you?”

Temujin’s tiger eyes flash with hatred. “You know it isn’t that simple. We’re at war. He’ll come for me when he can.”

“So you’re expendable?”

“No! That’s not—”

“How does it feel to know you’ve been played? Beaten at your own game?”

A smile overtakes my face as Temujin squirms and spits. I’d forgotten how utterly delightful Ghoa’s ruthless candor can be when she’s fighting with you, rather than against you.

She catches me watching her, and for an instant we’re both smiling. Almost laughing. Then we jolt and look away.

Shared hatred for Temujin hardly makes us allies. But as our growing caravan strikes out across the tundra toward the Kalima’s rendezvous point, I’m unable to shake the moment. That look. It was like falling back through time. The girls who laughed and conspired like that are long gone, I know that. But for a second I almost missed them.

Serik shoots me a stern look. Don’t fall prey to her deception.

I roll my eyes and break away to check on Orbai, who’s secured in a cage on the back of the nearest sled. “What do you think of all this?” I ask her.

She beats her golden wings and slashes at me with her talons, even though I didn’t raise a finger to the bars.

Sighing, I sidestep to give her a wider berth, though I continue walking alongside the sled. So she knows she can’t get rid of me that easily. I will never stop trying to reverse Kartok’s hold.

With nothing else to do, I observe the lumbering caravan, marveling again at the unified shepherds and Chotgori. Inevitably, my gaze slides back to Ghoa, who ambles along beside the Zemyan prince. Their presence, and the fact that they haven’t done a single thing to invite suspicion, are the most unbelievable of all. They’re even taking turns pulling the heavy sleds, and it could be the blistering wind getting to me, but I swear the snow grows firmer and harder as we walk. The sleds suddenly seem to glide faster and my boots don’t sink nearly as deep into the snow.

You’re imagining things. Ghoa would never contribute more than the bare minimum. And you’re well beyond that.

But the snowpack is undeniably thicker. When I can’t stand speculating any longer, I limp up beside Ghoa. “Are you doing this?” I wince at how snappish and accusatory I sound. It’s just been so long since I’ve spoken to Ghoa without flinging ire or blame.

“Doing what?” she says without glancing over