Sky Breaker (Night Spinner Duology) by Addie Thorley (best romance ebooks .txt) 📕

before. Digging deeper than I did on the icy buttress. Raging even harder than I did on the plains of Nariin, when I summoned Standing Death. I have to account for my body’s lingering weakness. And it doesn’t matter if I burn completely through my power. Kartok will kill me if I remain here.

The surge of ice that explodes from my palms is spectacular. Horrifying. Thousands of razor-sharp spikes careen toward the generál, and for an instant his face slackens with shock. Fear glazes his demon eyes. His hands move to shield his face, and I scream with murderous glee. But then the spears inexplicably sail past him—through him—evaporating into mist. Just as they did the first time I attacked him.

No.

It isn’t possible. Kalima powers have always been stronger than Zemyan magic. Always.

I reach into my core again, grappling frantically for more ice. But I am a quiver without arrows. Completely magic-barren until my power rebuilds.

If it ever does.

Kartok squats in front of me, his face rearranged into a smirk, as if he knew my attack was futile. But I saw the pulse of shock and fear in his eyes.

“What did you do to my power?” I demand. “And how?”

“I may not be able to strip your power, but if you use it freely, there’s nothing stopping me from collecting it and repurposing it.”

“That isn’t possible.”

“Isn’t it?” Kartok’s iceberg eyes practically glitter. “This prison cell is a xanav—a pocket world of my creation, in which I’m able to collect and store your power. Since you’re not feeling cooperative, I have no choice but to proceed without you. If the stone gateways are destroyed, I must forge another path to the home of the First Gods. Your power will be most useful for that. Just as Enebish’s power was key to taking Sagaan.”

My reeling mind slowly untangles his words—and the meaning behind them. The only reason a general advances into enemy territory is to conquer it—to dethrone the current ruler and place your own ruler in their stead. But Kartok can’t honestly believe he can depose gods. And he said Enebish’s power was key to taking Sagaan … not Enebish herself.

My ribs expand, as if a suffocating cord has been severed, and the gasp of air that fills my lungs feels almost like relief. Except that’s absurd. In order to feel relief, I would have to care about Enebish. And I don’t. I stopped caring when she chose that deserter over me. Again and again and again.

While my mind grapples for footing in this new, unsteady terrain, Kartok returns to his chair and flips through the ancient book, humming to himself.

Humming!

“Whose book is that?” I demand, eyeing it with growing unease.

Kartok grins. “Zemya had so many thoughts after she was unjustly banished from the Lady and Father’s presence. So many interesting theories and strategies. Plans to make her parents and brother pay for the harm they’d caused. She was quite brilliant, you know. And she could be quite vengeful, too.” He licks his finger and turns another page. “With good reason. But the timing wasn’t right, then, to wage war against the Lady and Father.”

“But it is now?” I shout.

“Careful, Commander. It almost sounds as if you’re scared. As if you believe …”

“I believe that you’re wicked and depraved.”

“For wanting to right centuries of persecution and injustice? For mistrusting powerful people who consider themselves gods? For wanting to restore the balance of power so all have an equal opportunity? Yes, that’s the height of depravity.”

I clench my hair, which would be hard with frost if a morsel of my power remained. “Stop twisting the truth to make yourself out to be a hero!”

“Stop denying the truth and accept that you’re not a hero either. You never have been.”

I need to stay calm. If I let him drive me to hysterics, he wins. But my head has never ached this badly. My brain feels seconds away from exploding. “I never asked for power!” I finally erupt. “It was given to me. For a reason. And you’re jealous. Your people have always been jealous. That’s the entire genesis of this war.”

“No. The genesis of the war is fear. Zemya discovered something unexpected and powerful, but instead of embracing her innovation and achievement, the foolish Ashkarian gods despised it because they couldn’t control it. They tried to squash it rather than understand it.”

“So you plan to repay us by instilling fear? By striking back cut for cut?”

Kartok shakes his head and turns another page of the book. “You’re so narrow-minded. I couldn’t care less about Ashkar. I plan to exalt my goddess and promote the reign of my empress, both of which will be much easier once … Ah, here we are. I knew Zemya would provide another way. Tell me, Commander, how many disparate powers do the Kalima warriors possess?”

My brows crumple. Why in the sacred name of the Sky King would he care about the distribution of power within the Kalima? “Shouldn’t you know? If you’ve spent your whole life fighting us?”

“How many?” he demands. “And how are they distributed throughout the battalion?”

“There isn’t a weak link among us, if that’s what you’re looking for.”

“Your warriors are the link!” Kartok roars, slamming the book. “I’ve never met anyone so infuriating. Your comrades’ decision to abandon you makes more sense every minute.” He pulls the long, curved blade from his robes and advances toward me.

I stiffen—I don’t know if the weapon is real or an illusion—but I don’t retreat. I refuse to retreat. “You’re finally going to kill me?”

“If you’re not going to be helpful, I see no reason not to.”

In less time than it takes to draw breath, Kartok is on top of me—the sleeves of his blue robe swirling, his knife flashing. It skims across my throat, the line so thin and delicate that I think he only nicked me. Then I feel the warm curtain of blood pour down my chest. I gargle and gag as pain consumes me. My