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

Kartok’s voice is just up ahead, on the other side of the flowering hedge. “Shouldn’t we be able to see Them by now? If you’re leading me astray—”

“I can’t lead you astray,” Temujin says meekly.

The rebel is wickedly clever, as always. Bending the truth so you think you’re getting precisely what you want, only to discover it twisted into what he wants. Technically, Temujin is leading Kartok toward the Lady and Father—the pieces of Them that live within the Book of Whisperings—which isn’t what Kartok wants, but it’s close enough to fool the binding magic.

With every step, my racing heartbeat pulses through my injured leg. My lungs seize as the golden pathways merge from every corner of the garden, twisting into an opulent floor runner that ends at the pedestal. It’s as grand as I imagined—made of polished onyx etched with silver moons and golden stars. The base is impossibly narrow and it widens as it rises, unfolding into a perch that resembles the wings of an eagle. Atop the wings rests the original Book of Whisperings. It’s twice as large as any book I’ve seen, with an azure cover and gold-leaf pages.

Kartok and Temujin emerge from the pathway adjacent to mine and I skid to a stop just in time. Heaving for breath, I plaster myself against the leaves and wait for the perfect moment to move. Temujin and I will have just seconds to scrawl our warning—to tell the Lady and Father to stay away, to cast Kartok from their presence before he unleashes his Zemyan magic.

“You brought me to a book?” Kartok rages as he scans the clearing, looking for gods who clearly aren’t present.

“We have to announce ourselves by writing in the Book of Whisperings,” Temujin explains. “Otherwise, we could spend years scaling each mountain in search of the Lady and Father. This is the fastest way to learn Their location. They’ll tell me where to go.”

“Fine. Do it quickly.” Kartok herds Temujin toward the open book.

I can smell the pages from here—the comforting aroma of old, brittle parchment. I want to lay my cheek on the careworn cover and lovingly trail my fingers down the broken spine. I want to cherish the feel of Their quills in my fingers, knowing they’re the same instruments the Lady and Father use to answer my prayers.

But there isn’t time to be sentimental.

Temujin lifts one of the solid gold quills with a flourish.

My fingers twitch, grappling again for the darkness. This would be so much easier if I could conceal myself in shadows. Or blindfold Kartok with the night while I raced to the pedestal.

You don’t need the darkness, a firm reminder elbows into my mind. You slunk around Ikh Zuree for two years without power, relying on nothing but your wits, determination, and a constant unwavering faith in the Lady and Father. That’s all you’ve ever needed. Your gods and yourself.

Picking a handful of weighty pewter berries from a nearby bush, I crouch at the edge of the hedgerow and whisper a prayer as I lob them at a tree on the opposite side of the clearing. This particular tree has orange leaves the size of my head that look to be made of blown glass. Much to my relief, they shatter like blown glass too.

Kartok whips around as they crackle and crash.

I burst from the cover of the hedgerow, channeling Orbai’s speed and strength as I fly toward Temujin and the Book of Whisperings. I only make it halfway before Kartok turns back to the pedestal and spots me. He waves his hands and shouts in Zemyan, attempting to manipulate the appearance of the terrain to trip me. When that fails, he makes it look as if he slid the pedestal to opposite ends of the garden, but I don’t need to see the Book of Whisperings to know where it is. Its energy calls to me like outstretched arms.

Temujin hands me the other quill as I crash into his side.

The tips scratch across the page, and Kartok keens as if our words are blades in his flesh.

Temujin and I didn’t discuss what to write. I haven’t a clue if we’re even scrawling the same message. Or if we’re only making everything more confusing for the Lady and Father. I barely have time to scribble a single word—stay—before an image rises in my mind. A mountaintop ensconced in pink mist with a crescent moon hanging in the sky on the right side.

“Do you see that?” I breathe.

Instead of answering, Temujin shoves me to the ground.

My skull cracks against a granite boulder, and the quill skitters out of my fingers and under a bush. My vision doubles. My head throbs with pain, worsened by the undeniable fact that I’m a fool.

This was another trick. Another trap.

“How could you?” I scream up at Temujin. Which is when I notice how wide his amber eyes are. How he seems to be choking on the air itself. And how a bloodstained edge of steel protrudes through the center of his chest.

A sword that would have impaled my chest if he hadn’t pushed me aside.

Kartok removes his blade with a vicious jerk, sending Temujin sprawling forward. He collapses on top of me, his shuddering body pinning me to the ground. Blood gushes across my lap and wets the grass. A spreading pool of scarlet black.

“I do … believe … in the First Gods,” Temujin rasps. “I was only trying … to help….”

I don’t tell him it’s okay. Or that his intentions justify his poor decisions. That this final sacrifice erases his prior betrayals. Because it doesn’t. Nor am I in any position to make such decrees. I’ll leave his final judgment to the Lady and Father. But I do clutch him tight against my chest as he gasps and sobs and twitches. This confused, passionate boy from my country who was so desperate to make a difference and implement positive changes in Ashkar, he ended up changing himself, betraying himself little by