Night Spinner (Night Spinner #1) - Addie Thorley Page 0,103

for a handful of darkness and squeezed the threads in my fist, which should have deepened the shadows around us, but my fingers were slow and heavy, and the sky flickered dark and light, dark and light. Not again. I set my jaw and focused all of my energy into my palms, but the tighter I clenched, the more my hands shook. Because I’d used too much of my strength the night before, sending midnight messages to the king.

Is that best for the Kalima? my conscience scolded.

“Stop that!” Ghoa hissed. “You can’t compromise our position just to get your way.”

“That’s not what I’m doing! I’m just tired. And cold.”

“Show some fortitude. Do you think the Kalima of old were never tired or cold?”

I closed my eyes and counted to five. If I wanted to get off this ice field before I froze to death, I needed to stroke her ego and fall in line. Again.

Always second. Always yielding.

“Everyone knows you’re the best tracker in the Kalima,” I ground out, “but there’s no way you could know how fast the Zemyans are marching in this fresh powder. They could still be days away. The caravan has given us no reason to suspect they’re Zemyan scouts. I know you could keep watch all night, but I can’t, and the king has ordered us to stay together.”

I laid a hand on Ghoa’s shoulder, and even through her armor and my thick leather gloves, I could feel the unnatural chill of her skin. The falling temperature meant nothing to her—she wasn’t even wearing a cloak and her nose wasn’t the slightest bit red—but my fingers were so stiff, I could barely grip my saber.

“C’mon.” I tugged on Ghoa’s arm, but she flung me off.

“You want to leave because you want me to be wrong. I’ve been in the army twice as long as you. I trained you, I made you, but you plan to swoop in and steal everything I’ve worked for.”

Guilt stabbed my sides like a stitch. I babbled for a second before dragging a gloved hand across my face. There was no way she could know what I’d been doing.

“I know you’re undermining me.”

“I would never undermine you, Sister,” I said reverently to cover the lie. “Your victory is my victory.”

“Then wait with me a little while longer.” Ghoa’s eyes met mine, fierce and accusatory. “I know my calculations are right, and if the Zemyans attack our encampment during the night, I’ll never forgive myself.”

More like the king would never forgive her—or promote her—but I kept those allegations behind my frozen lips. “Fine. Ten minutes, then we go. I won’t survive much longer.”

“Thank you,” she began, but a blaze of light blossomed from the wagons across the field. I dropped to my stomach and Ghoa whipped around. While I crept forward on my elbows and knees, she slowly inched higher until she peered over the barricade. I joined her a second later, squinting across the grasslands. The light almost hurt to look at—blinding yellow against the deepening night.

“I knew it,” she said breathlessly. “It’s a flare.”

“It could just as easily be a cooking fire.”

“It’s too large for that.”

“Not for a caravan that size.”

Ghoa shook her head and her frosty braid whipped past my cheek. “Merchants wouldn’t be traveling so late in the season. It’s the Zemyans, and they’ve signaled their troops to advance.”

“Don’t you think they’d fear we would see such a large flare and know their location?”

The distant flames danced in Ghoa’s eyes and the air grew even colder. “Ready yourself, En.” She scrambled to her feet, adjusting the saber on her hip.

“Ghoa. Don’t be hasty.”

“I am first lieutenant. You will do as I say, or I’ll be forced to believe you’re sympathetic with our enemy.” She shot me a challenging look, then vaulted over the barricade.

After spitting out a curse, I followed.

We jogged toward the caravan in silence. Unlike Ghoa, the ground didn’t harden beneath my feet, so my boots sunk with every step, making crunching prints in the snow. I fell back a length, then two.

“Wait,” I rasped.

But another blinding flash erupted from the wagons followed by what could have been cheers or screams. It was impossible to tell which. Ghoa, of course, assumed the worst.

“Hurry,” she said, breaking into a full sprint.

I ducked my head and urged my legs faster, imagining the field was a frozen pond and I was skidding across it—smooth and fast and effortless. To my surprise, it worked. The snow beneath me grew firmer.

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