Sky Breaker (Night Spinner Duology) Addie Thorley (best english books to read for beginners .TXT) 📖

falls. Her hair is silver and white seafoam. Her eyes shimmer with the luster of pearls. And the sound of crashing waves follows Zemya as She weaves through the immovable Zemyan warriors and the equally stunned Ashkarians. When She reaches Her parents and brother, She raises Her chin defiantly. A pointed chin, which She clearly inherited from the Lady of the Sky. And Her mane of hair is undeniably from Father Guzan. And Ashkar’s eyes are sloped slightly upward at the corners, just like Hers.

Despite the stark outward changes Zemya wrought upon Her body to separate Herself from the First Gods, the family resemblance is irrefutable. It’s impossible for a tree to grow without its roots; Zemya wouldn’t exist without the Lady and Father.

“I should have known you’d intervene as soon as it became clear I’d defeat you.” Zemya flings Her arms and hot-spring water sprays the Sky Palace steps, burning like embers where it wets my skin. “How do you plan to punish me this time? How else can you weaken and debase me? Whatever it is, it won’t work. I will always recover. I will always return stronger.”

“We were wrong,” the Lady says, holding out Her hands in capitulation.

Zemya bristles, crosses Her arms, and says in a spiteful voice, “You are the Lady and Father. Creators of the heavens and earth. You are never wrong.”

“In this instance, We were.”

“About what, exactly?” Zemya challenges.

“Many things: suppressing your drive and innovation, for presuming your magic was evil just because we couldn’t understand or control it, and mostly for pitting you and your brother against each other in the first place, by comparing your abilities.”

A shiver works through me, dotting my skin with goose bumps. The feud between the First Gods isn’t so different from the feud in my own family: some with power and some without, a constant battle for acknowledgment and supremacy. All of it unnecessary.

Zemya stares for a long moment, nostrils flared and jaw working as She struggles to maintain a tight hold on Her rage. “Unfortunately, this realization and apology are several centuries too late.”

“Is it ever, truly, too late?” the Lady presses. “Come home.”

Zemya laughs and takes a deliberate step back. “My home is with my people.”

“You are a wise and caring Goddess,” the Lady says with a proud smile. “Your people are lucky to have you. I would never take you from them.”

“Then why ask me to return to the realm of the Eternal Blue?”

“Because it doesn’t have to be a choice between your people and your family. It never should have been a choice. You can mend the rift between us and still serve your people. If an Ashkarian commander can give her life for a Zemyan prince, I think we, their gods, should be capable of reaching a similar truce.”

The swirling and crashing of Zemya’s watery form gradually slows until She resembles a trickling stream rather than a raging river, but Her voice remains fierce and strong. “And what of my magic?”

“That’s entirely up to you,” the Lady assures Her. “Continue to innovate if you wish, but I, for one, have grown weary of watching mortals abuse the power of the sky.”

“As have I,” the Father agrees.

They stare at Ashkar, who grudgingly adds, “And I.”

“And if there’s no quarrel between us, there’s no reason they need the sky to defend themselves,” the Lady explains.

Zemya looks skeptically at each of them. “What exactly are you saying?”

“As a show of our commitment, and as retribution for our mistakes, we will withdraw our powers from Ashkar.”

My throat constricts around a gasp of utter shock. The other Kalima warriors cry out with even more outrage—Serik loudest of all. In the Eternal Blue, they all briefly experienced how it feels to be powerless. Ordinary. Weak.

A state I was forced to endure for two years at Ikh Zuree. A state I learned to survive. Thrive in, even, once I silenced my oppressors and started trusting myself.

Serik too. He was brave and fierce and battle-ready long before he could wield the sun’s fiery rays. And maybe that’s the point. Maybe none of us have ever truly needed power beyond our own faith and fortitude and determination.

“Without the sky, your people will be nothing,” Zemya exclaims, making the Kalima shout even louder.

The Lady of the Sky gives a little shrug. “Or perhaps they’ll be forced to find themselves—to innovate and discover their own strengths—as you once did….”

The Lady of the Sky extends Her hand to Zemya.

She stares at the Lady’s offering, then turns to gaze at Her people, suspended in battle. Winning, but for how long? And at what cost? Laying down weapons and grudges doesn’t necessarily mean you’ve lost the war. Sometimes it achieves the boldest victory.

Ghoa taught me that.

After another scowl and an exasperated shake of Her head—as if She’ll instantly regret it—Zemya takes Her mother’s hand.

The sky explodes with darkness and light, with wind and rain and stars. We drop onto our stomachs and cover our heads as hail gouges the obliterated palace and sleet washes the blood from the Grand Courtyard. It reminds me of the howling surge of darkness that whipped around me every time I called the night inside the Temple of Serenity in Kartok’s false Eternal Blue. An explosion of wild, unbridled power. But unlike that deception, this is both cleansing and punishing. A show of power and restraint. A final reminder of who rules the skies.

The storm lashes us for what feels like hours, growing steadily stronger, until it clears just as fast as it came. As if swept away by a wave of the Lady’s hand, to reveal a lustrous, clear blue sky. Everyone in the courtyard peels themselves off the ground and looks to the palace steps.

But the First Gods have vanished.

And so have our reasons to fight.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

ENEBISH

THE GATHERING OF THE FIVE NATIONS IS SCHEDULED TO TAKE place in Sagaan exactly two weeks after the ceasefire. The warriors conscripted from the territories and the Zemyans wanted to rush home immediately,