Night Spinner (Night Spinner #1) - Addie Thorley Page 0,23
The heavy doors slide open and a guard emerges wheeling a tall wooden rack—four beams nailed together like a picture frame. The torturous instrument is called a zurig, and the sight of it makes my joints burn, for I am to be the broken artwork hanging within. Stretched like a canvas until torn to pieces.
With rough hands, they wrench my arms above my head and lash them to the upper corners. They do the same with my legs, securing them to the bottom of the posts. Below, the people shout their approval, their eyes rapt with macabre excitement. They are wholly unrecognizable from the smiling neighbors I reveled with minutes before. Almost as ravenous as the monks at Ikh Zuree. The Snow Conjurers of the Kalima have to erect a wall to keep them from charging up the palace steps.
The king ascends the stairs with slow, purposeful strides. I want to hate him, but it would be like hating a bear for defending its cubs. He lives and breathes and fights for the well-being of his people. And not just Ashkarians. He defends and bolsters Verdenet and the other Protected Territories. I have always admired him, even when I disagreed with his religious leanings, which is why it kills me to see his down-turned lips and gimlet eyes. Not so long ago, he looked on me with confidence and pride, and as he looms nearer, I beg him to see me, to acknowledge the warrior I used to be, just once more before I die.
But his gaze passes over me as if I am a rock or a tree—an inanimate object unworthy of notice.
I deflate with a whimper.
Ghoa takes her place beside him on the stair below me. Her chestnut hair has unraveled from its braid and hangs in her face, but still I see her expression. Changed yet again. Instead of gaping wild-eyed like a frightened horse, her jaw is set and her back is rigid. She speaks in a low, coaxing voice. “I urge you to reconsider, Your Majesty. You’ve said yourself that Enebish is the finest eagle trainer you have ever employed. And she served for many years in the Imperial Army. I beg you to lessen her sentence.”
The king shakes his head and snow sprays from his red fur cap. “What use is a servant who undermines the competition for which my birds are trained? She’s a nuisance. A danger. Both on and off the battlefield.”
“She’s a poor, wounded girl.” Ghoa’s voice breaks, causing the king to look down at her. A flash of unexpected tenderness softens his scowl. “Punish her, of course,” Ghoa continues in a rush, “but let me take her back to Ikh Zuree. You have yet to announce her sentence, so no one will think you weak. I ask this favor as Commander of the Kalima warriors. As your most devoted servant.”
The king studies her beautiful face for so long, the audience begins to murmur. But Ghoa stands tall and steadfast, her eyes locked on the king’s.
“Fine,” he relents at last. “I suppose there’s no need to waste a perfectly good servant. But she must learn her place. No one will interfere with her punishment. Not even you.” He points at Ghoa, then he turns and his finger sweeps across the multitude below. “She will hang for two hours, and no one will approach her. No one will show her mercy. And you shall tighten the ropes,” he orders Ghoa.
With a small nod, she mounts the final step to the zurig. Her fingers tremble as they wrap around the rope fastened to my injured arm. “Forgive me, Enebish,” she murmurs.
“It’s not your fault,” I say, wishing I could reach out and take her hand. Give her strength. I even screw my lips into a thin smile. I will not make this worse for her.
“But it is my fault.”
“You were so kind to give us this chance. I failed you.”
“I’m sorry,” she says, lowering her head. Then she hauls down on the rope.
Fiery agony carves through my shoulder. For a moment everything goes black and the marble steps seem to crumble beneath my feet. When my vision returns, the entire royal courtyard is upended and leaning. The torches blur like falling stars. The horrified faces of the crowd mix like butter in a churn, until I see one ugly face. One collective sneer. The winterberry pie I ate threatens to come back up as Ghoa ties a knot and moves to the next