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

blankets during the night. Now Yimran’s family would freeze to death and they were demanding recompense from Cezari. But Cezari couldn’t give them his blankets or his family would freeze to death.

“We have a Sun Stoker. No one will freeze to death,” I assured them with patient platitudes and gracious smiles. After which, I had the immense pleasure of spending the entire day patching the slobbery blankets. Yimran’s family insisted they shouldn’t have to do it. And Cezari didn’t have time, since his goats were clearly starving. He had to take them aboveground to find whatever meager weeds were growing through the sand.

By the time I finished mending the blankets, my fingers were as gnarled as an old woman’s and my skin was covered in pinpricks of blood. I was too young and wiggly to learn how to sew when I was a child in Verdenet. And Ghoa was more concerned with teaching me how to draw blood, rather than stanch it.

When I presented the blankets to Yimran, do you think he or a single member of his household thanked me for my efforts? Of course not. They snatched the pile of blankets, careful not to let our fingers brush, lest I infect them with my scars or wickedness or whatever it is they’re afraid of, and hurried away. They even cast wary glances over their shoulders, as if I might throw the sewing needles into their backs like knives. After I helped them.

The next time, the shouts had been so frenzied, I thought surely there was news from the scouts. Or someone had fallen down a shaft and died.

The latter wasn’t too far from the truth.

Emeric had been moving his bedroll in the dead of night so he could sleep right in front of Serik’s heat, instead of waiting for his turn in the rotation. That night, he accidentally stepped on a dog’s tail, and when the creature yelped, the jig was up.

The group wanted to cast him down a shaft. Or banish him to the punishing desert. Someone even suggested I bring the stars down on him, which earned them a glare as hot as a bolt of starfire.

“I don’t just throw stars at people,” I growled.

The shepherds looked down and away. At their feet or at the rocks. Because they saw it with their own eyes: how I’d tried to kill Ghoa. How I’d ravaged the Sky Palace with starfire during Temujin’s rescue.

I take full responsibility for what happened in the Grand Courtyard. The night and starfire are my obligation. But I do blame Ghoa for framing me for a massacre. For manipulating me and deceiving me to the point that I felt compelled to use my power against her. I nearly let her turn me into the monster I’d spent years running from. A monster these people will never forget.

The shepherds part as I limp through the main cavern toward the commotion, but it doesn’t make me feel important or revered, as it did when I was a member of the Kalima warriors. Instead of bowing with respect and veneration, the shepherds recoil and raise their hands to cover their faces, as if I might slash them with my beastly claws. Or bring the night crashing down on them for sport. No matter that I haven’t so much as raised my voice since we left Sagaan.

I am not responsible for Nariin! I want to fill every tunnel and crevasse with the truth. Why bother calling for my help only to scramble away when I answer?

I didn’t expect the shepherds to warm to me immediately. But I did expect them to give me a chance. Ghoa and the Sky King had left them to freeze and starve to death on the winter grazing lands. And the unified Zemyans and Shoniin will invade Sagaan any day—if they haven’t already. These weak, flailing shepherds would have been the first to perish. Or be taken prisoner.

I make my way around a cluster of stalagmites that form a sort of partition between the caverns, and slip into the smaller room, where we’ve been storing food and supplies.

Serik stands in the center of the space with his arms outstretched, holding back two shouting men who have large riotous groups gathered behind them.

“You’re trying to kill my family!” the older of the men, Iree, roars.

“Only because you’re determined to kill us! You broke the code first!” Bultum, a round-cheeked and generally good-natured shepherd, screams back.

“I’m going to kill you both if you don’t stop hollering!” Serik bellows loudest of all. Flames leap from his palms, and it wasn’t on purpose if his surprised yelp is any indication. It does, however, effectively force both sides to lurch back.

If there’s one person who’s discovered they dislike leading even more than I do, it’s Serik.

“We should let the shepherds tear each other apart,” he’d muttered only two nights into our journey across the grasslands, during which time we had to deal with a broken wagon wheel, arguments over camping spots, unfair grazing rotations, and places where people could build fires. “Survival of the fittest and all that.”

I’d rolled my eyes at Serik’s overblown suggestion. “They’ll settle soon enough. They’re just frightened and anxious and out of their depth. Think of all they’ve been through. We must be patient.”

Little did I know the shepherds wouldn’t settle. Their panic and paranoia would only grow. It wasn’t long before Serik’s dark thoughts began circling my own mind.

“I’m glad to see you’re de-escalating the situation.” I flash Serik a teasing smile as I approach the standoff. We learned quickly that you can either laugh or cry at these exasperating disputes, and I try to do the former for the sake of both of our sanities.

“You try reasoning with them!” Serik flings his arms above his head, and another burst of heat rushes from his hands. His control over his Kalima power is still tenuous at best, and his aggravated gasp makes me smile even wider. Which makes him even madder,