“There isn’t time to breathe!”
“Let’s focus on one thing at a time—the things we can control.”
“And what’s that?” I snap.
“No matter where we stay tonight, I can guarantee we won’t freeze to death.”
“How? Did you miraculously smuggle a tent through the realms too?” I fling my hands into the air and yelp when my bad arm twinges.
“Remember when you asked how I was able to blow up the Shoniin’s encampment? Well …” He holds up both hands and wags his fingers. A fiery orb blooms to life. The air around it wavers like the air directly over a fire.
I gape in stunned silence and bring the tip of my finger to the tip of his. I immediately pull back with a hiss. “You’re a …”
The smile that lights Serik’s face is so giddy, for a second I see him not as he is, but how he was before: the terrified but determined boy who befriended me on Ghoa’s parents’ estate. Desperate to prove himself. Desperate to carve out a new identity, separate from his criminal father and ailing mother. Desperate to make a difference. “I’m a Sun Stoker,” he proudly confirms.
“How? When?”
“After leaving the realm of the Eternal Blue, I joined a caravan to Visva, but the farther west we traveled, the more the pit in my stomach festered. Everything you told me about the war front felt wrong, so I slipped away and went to scout the remains of Ivolga. What I found was even more sickening than anything you reported. Bodies covered the fields like midwinter snow, but only warriors from the Unified Empire numbered the dead. Not a single Zemyan. Our cannons had been turned on our own soldiers, En, and there was no sign of hand-to-hand combat, which meant the Zemyans didn’t have to cut through our ranks to reach our artillery. It was fired by our own side.”
Even though I knew Zemyans were killing our warriors and posing as recruits, a flood of fresh ire washes through me as I think of Temujin’s grave face when he told me about Ivolga. And how acutely I could feel Inkar’s fear and Chanar’s rage. It had been so raw, so palpable.
Lies, all of it.
Serik reaches for me, squeezing strength into me. “Once I realized what Temujin was up to and who he was in league with, I knew you were in trouble, so I hurried back to Sagaan. But travel this time of year isn’t exactly quick or easy, especially alone. I had to seek shelter from snow squalls for days at a time in any cave or roadside ditch I could find. By the time I arrived in Sagaan, Ghoa had already captured you. Not knowing what else to do, I prayed to the Lady of the Sky, asking Her to help me save you—”
“Wait,” I interrupt. “You prayed?”
“Shocking, I know,” Serik says.
“In earnest?”
“It must have been earnest enough. I wormed my way into the square, prepared to launch myself onto the platform and either save you or die at your side, but there was obviously no need. You saved yourself.” He looks at me like it’s a good thing, something to be proud of.
“I may have saved myself, but I hurt hundreds, maybe thousands, of people in the process,” I mumble darkly. “You saw the Grand Courtyard.”
“You did what you thought was right with the information you had. That’s all any of us can do.”
“I had literally just learned I wasn’t responsible for Nariin. Then I turned around and did something equally appalling.”
“What do you mean you learned you weren’t responsible for Nariin? If you weren’t responsible, who …” Serik’s voice trails off and his eyes fill with grim understanding that morphs swiftly into rage. “I’m going to kill her.”
He springs forward, as if he plans to return to the Grand Courtyard and cut Ghoa down immediately.
I grab his robe and yank him back. “Let it go, Serik.”
“How can I let it go? She framed you! It ruined your life. Don’t you want justice?”
“Not at the cost of more innocent lives,” I say quietly. Then I steer the subject back to Serik. “I can’t believe the Lady of the Sky blessed a heathen monk with Her power.” I flash him a teasing smile, but the truth is, I know precisely why She did. Stubborn, difficult, bullheaded Serik refused to be duped by Temujin and his Shoniin. He refused to stop searching for answers. When he was supposed to go into hiding for his own safety, he went to the war front instead to discover the truth. He was willing to die for me. Things only a true Kalima warrior would do.
And he prayed—that was his true test. In his darkest hour, he lifted his face to the sky.
I’m not the least bit surprised the Goddess made him a Sun Stoker. He has always been the fire to Ghoa’s ice.
And fire makes heat.
A fountain of hope burbles to life inside of me as I stare at the light blazing in Serik’s hands. His gift from the Lady and the Father is a gift for me as well. A gift for the shepherds, freezing on the grazing lands. It’s our answer. The way forward. I see it in my mind as clearly as if it had been written in my Book of Whisperings.
“We have to go now, to the grazing lands, before the city falls,” I say as I rush from the alleyway.
For the first time in our lives, Serik gapes as if I’m the irrational one. “It’s so late, and we don’t have a plan.”
Oh, but I do have a plan. “We’re going to Verdenet,” I announce. “And we’re taking the shepherds with us.”
“Why would we go to Verdenet? It’s overrun with soldiers. The king’s been replaced by an imperial governor. And how do you plan to get there? It’s clear across the grasslands and the snow squalls—”
I squash a finger against his lips. “You will take care of the snow squalls, obviously. And that’s precisely why we must go to Verdenet—to reinstate King Minoak and raise an army of our own.”
“How do you plan to reinstate a king who’s vanished? No one has seen him since the assassination attempt. He could be—”
“He isn’t dead. The Imperial Army hasn’t found him because they’re not looking in the right places. They’re trying to solve a Verdenese riddle using Ashkarian logic, which will never work. They can’t see the answer because they’ve never made an effort to get to know us.”
“If we can find King Minoak”—Serik’s tone makes it clear he doesn’t like our odds—“do you honestly think an army of Verdenese crafts workers and exhausted shepherds stand a chance against the Imperial Army and Zemya?”
“No. But it’s a start. King Minoak’s sister is married to the vice chancellor of Namaag. If we alert them to the truth, they may be willing to fight. And if what Temujin told me about the conditions in Chotgor is true, they have no reason not to join us. Without the Protected Territories, Ashkar is small. And weak.”
Serik chews the inside of his cheek. “You realize this is outrageous? Not to mention dangerous?” I fold my arms and stand taller, gathering up every shred of ammunition I can think of to volley back at him, but a sly grin creeps across his face and he claps. “Which is exactly why I like it. Let’s raise another rebel army and find ourselves a missing king.”
We skirt around the city center and down to the river. My feet hesitate when they reach the wheel-riddled streets of the grazing lands. The shepherds won’t be glad to see me, and they definitely won’t want to follow me—not without Temujin.
“Do you want me to go first?” Serik grabs my elbow, but I shake my head and take a decisive step forward. I’m done hiding in the shadows. I’m done trailing behind like an obedient dog. From now on, I think for myself. Speak for myself.
Trust in myself.
With a nod of encouragement, Serik falls in beside me and we advance across the frozen fields. With every step, I let the night peel away, fluttering to the ground like fall leaves until we’re standing, exposed, in the middle of the grazing lands.
The shepherds huddled around their cooking fires murmur and point. As the gasps escalate to shouts, more and more people pour from their tents. I want to draw my hood or retreat behind my hair. But I raise my chin and let them look. I let them see the good and bad, the fair and ugly
. All of it.
All of me.
“What are you doing here?” someone demands.
“Did you come to incinerate our camp like the Sky Palace?” another shepherd jeers.
Serik lunges forward, but I grab his elbow and pull him back. “I came to guide you to safety,” I say with far more conviction than I feel. “Zemyans have infiltrated the capital. Sagaan will fall and you will fall with it, unless you come with us now.”
The majority of the multitude stares as if slugs are dripping from my mouth. A few outright laugh.
“Where’s Temujin?” several voices call. “If what you claim is true, shouldn’t he be leading us?”
“Temujin has joined ranks with the Zemyans. The aid he provided was not as selfless or as noble as it seemed.”
Cries of disbelief and disapproval pelt me like arrows. A good portion of the crowd turns away. My breath goes with them, sucked from my belly as if jabbed by the butt of a saber. The burning hollow it leaves hurts even more than expected.
“You’ll be the first to perish!” I yell. “The Sky King made it clear he won’t protect you. And Temujin’s help extends only so far as it benefits him. I’m begging you, let me lead you to safety. To freedom and a better future.”
“And where exactly is this ‘better future’?” a sardonic voice presses.
The question is clearly a mockery, but I answer anyway. “In Verdenet! We will reinstate King Minoak. And prepare to make a stand against Zemya.”
The laughter is so loud, it slaps me across the face.
A bone-thin man steps forward. “Do we look prepared to ‘make a stand’ against an army?”
“Not to mention we won’t survive the journey!” another disembodied voice adds.
“Actually, you will.” Serik steps forward and raises his hands. When nothing happens, he waves his arms and pumps his fists. The shepherds start snickering and Serik’s ears turn pink. “I’m still hammering out the kinks,” he grumbles. After another unsuccessful minute, the crowd turns away.
“Blazing, burning skies!” Serik slams his hands to his sides with a growl and a torrent of heat blasts across the grazing lands, rippling just above eye level. For several glorious seconds, it feels like a summer’s day.
The shepherds wheel back around. A stampede of people rushes toward Serik, grabbing at his hands as if he can distribute warmth like ration sacks.
“Whether or not Zemya attacks, you won’t survive the winter here,” I say. “But with us, you’ll at least stand a chance.”
The shepherds exchange furtive glances. Their scoffs become hushed conversations.
“We can’t just march a caravan this size across the grasslands to Verdenet,” a woman calls. “We’ll be caught fleeing. Or the soldiers in Verdenet will kill us on sight.”
“So we’ll make sure they don’t see us,” Serik says, throwing me a sly glance.
I bite my lips together and look down at my hands. A few short months ago it would have been impossible. I had relinquished the power of the sky. I had consigned myself to Ikh Zuree and given up all hope of reclaiming my former life. Of unburying Enebish the Warrior.
But now …
I am prepared and well practiced. I ferried hundreds of warriors across the grasslands. It may not have been for the purpose I originally intended, but it was for a purpose.
Her purpose.
I feel the gentle hands of the Lady of the Sky rest upon my cheeks. I feel Her quiet strength flowing into me, sealing the final fissures of doubt. Raising me up to be the servant She needs me to be.
This is why She allowed me to be misled.
This is why I had to suffer Temujin’s and Ghoa’s betrayals.
I would have never found the courage to believe in myself and embrace the darkness if I hadn’t joined with Temujin and his Shoniin. I would have never known the truth about Ghoa or had the strength to defy her if I didn’t experience her cruelty firsthand. And I would have never believed I could lead these people—I would have never even known about their suffering, and the suffering in the Protected Territories—if I hadn’t been sentenced to Ikh Zuree and removed from the war front. So my eyes could truly be opened. So I could become the Kalima warrior they need.
It was all part of Her plan.
It was all leading up to this moment.
“I can shield you with the darkness … if you’ll follow me.”
I hold my breath, praying they can’t tell how tightly my fists are clenched. Or how badly my legs are shaking. It’s quiet for one excruciating minute, then two. It’s like waiting for the executioner’s blade to drop.
Just when I’m about to retreat, a stampede of little feet bursts from the center of the crowd. “We’ll follow you!” Tears pulse in my eyes as the children I helped Inkar train scrabble forward and surround me, sliding their hands into mine.
“And I.” The old man who stole my staff steps forward and raises it like a saber.
After that, the pitter-patter of agreement becomes a cloudburst—a torrential downpour that drenches me. Cleanses me.
Serik slips his arm around my shoulders and looks at me with the most adoring crinkled smile. “And I.”
While the shepherds collapse their tents and gather their belongings, Serik and I slump beneath a tree to catch our breaths. The entire length of his side presses against mine, and even through our clothes, the rush of heat is electric, sparking up and down my body. And not just because he’s a Sun Stoker.
“This is what I dreamed of, all those days we spent lying under the larch trees,” he murmurs. “You and me, against the world.” His fingers trace a maddening trail up my arm and when I turn my head, I find he’s already looking down at me. My eyes inadvertently drop to his lips—so close, I can practically taste their heat. My heart’s hammering so wildly, he can probably feel it echoing through his chest.
“Stop looking at me like that.” I jab my elbow into his side. “It’s distracting, and we still have very important matters to discuss. Plans to make.”
Serik feigns a groan. “Would it kill you to relax for a minute?”
“I still don’t understand how you survived. Ghoa had your cloak, and you’d never give it to her. She’d have to pry it from your cold dead body.”
“Which was very nearly the case. One of Ghoa’s minions spotted me while I was traveling with the caravan to Visva. They chased me down an alley and caught the back of my cloak when I tried to hop the fence. It was either the cloak or my life. I seriously considered choosing the cloak.”
I chuckle and he flashes a wicked grin. “Once Ghoa had the cloak, she must have started wearing it, knowing you’d be scouring the city for me if we had separated. That it would only be a matter of time before you delivered yourself—and Temujin—into her hands.”
I cringe because it’s so devious. So underhanded. So like Ghoa—preying on my feelings. And so like me, playing right into her plan.
“Don’t look so exasperated,” Serik murmurs in my ear. “I’m delighted to know it’s common knowledge that you can’t live without me.”
“I can live without you,” I grumble, but Serik wags a finger in my face.
“Actually, you’d be facedown in that temple, burned to a crisp.”
“I still can’t believe you came back for me. That you were going to leap onto the palace steps and save me.”
“You know I’d do anything for you,” Serik repeats the declaration I made in the supply shack, and my stomach flips end over end. There’s only one word for that kind of devotion. One reason you’d sacrifice yourself for someone else.
A slow, heady tingling starts in my chest and seeps outward like honey, until my entire body is glazed with sweet, liquid heat. My skin buzzes with an energy even stronger than my Kalima power.
This is the feeling I searched for all those nights on the rooftops of Ikh Zuree. I’m not just flying; I have become the sky.
Serik cups my face in his hands and gently strokes my scars. Fragments of my former self
tell me to look away, to shrink and retreat. Anything this perfect must be a lie. But I’ve been fooled by enough lies lately to recognize a truth this undeniable.
Wherever the battle takes us, we will charge into the fray side by side.
I place my hands over Serik’s and lean closer.
Closer.
Until our foreheads touch.
Serik’s eyelashes flutter and he lets out a wheezy breath. “For a minute there I thought you were going to kiss me.”
I reach up and tweak his nose. “This is no time for kissing. We have Zemyans to evade and shepherds to ferry and a lost king to reinstate. If we manage all of that, maybe then you’ll deserve a kiss. In the meantime …” I gesture to the long line of shepherds, laden with packs and satchels and wagons. They’re ready, waiting. Looking at us as if we’re their salvation.
Maybe we are.
I take Serik’s hand, and we charge forward, into the grasslands. Away from the lights of Sagaan and into a shadowy future, filled with a million unknowns.
But this I know for certain: the Lady of the Sky is guiding us, pointing our way to the dawn.
With a confident smile, I twine my fingers in the threads of darkness, tightening my fist until our caravan vanishes beneath a cloak of night.
END OF BOOK ONE
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
IN VICTOR HUGO’S THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE DAME, HE astutely observed, “… mothers are often fondest of the child which has caused them the greatest pain.”
Truer words have never been spoken! Many, many tears were shed over this book. There were times I feared I wouldn’t be able to do the story justice, that Enebish and Serik would only ever be an untitled document on my laptop. But despite all of the ups and downs, nothing could diminish my faith in this manuscript. I know authors probably aren’t supposed to love one of their book babies best, but Night Spinner has always been the book of my heart, and I’m overflowing with gratitude for my amazing publishing team, who brought this dream to life, and for my fabulous family and critique partners, who pushed me to keep going, even when the going got tough.
Infinite thanks to my rock star agent, Katelyn Detweiler. Thank you for scooping this manuscript up out of the slush, for your meticulous notes and wise advice, and for being the fastest reader on the planet. I’m so lucky to call you my agent and my friend. I can’t wait to have lunch with both of our littles in the city! It’s going to be craaaazy!
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