Night Spinner (Night Spinner #1) - Addie Thorley Page 0,28
voice and see the way his muscles rippled beneath his tunic as he ascended the Sky Palace.
I groan and slump against the trunk. While I feel terrible for the trouble I caused Ghoa, I’m not sorry for the rest of it. At least, not how I should be. And she’ll know.
With wobbly fingers, I unfasten my braid, so the thick curtain of black falls over my face. A moment later, a sharp rap sounds on my chamber door. I expect Ghoa to billow into the room like a gust of arctic wind, but she carefully stomps the frost from her boots and removes her cloak. Her expression is difficult to read: her mouth is a thin red slash and her eyes are squished into disappointed slits. But away from the scrutinizing gaze of the other warriors, there’s something else, too. Her fingers fidget with that flap of leather at her hip, and she keeps glancing at the window. Then the door. And pulling at her collar as if she can’t get enough air.
Guilt pummels me like an avalanche. Ghoa is never afraid. Never weak or doubting. My heart splinters into a thousand brittle pieces as I watch her shamble across the room.
“I’m sorry,” I whimper, throwing myself to the floor. “Please, forgive me. Whatever you ask, whatever it takes.” I rattle off a list of punishments I can inflict upon myself, but Ghoa motions me up. She huffs down on my trunk and leans forward, cradling her head in her hands.
Wordlessly, I sit beside her.
“Do you have any idea how bad this looks?” she says after a long silence. “The Sky King is questioning not only my skills as commander but my loyalty because he thinks you are in league with Temujin.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“How do you know him?” she interrupts.
“I don’t. I haven’t a clue why he helped me.”
Ghoa turns and appraises me with red-rimmed eyes. “After everything I’ve done for you … please tell me you wouldn’t lie to me.”
I shake my head quickly. “Of course not. I swear it. I’ve never heard of Temujin before today.”
“How is that possible? Everyone knows who he is.”
I shrug and gesture across my chamber. It’s the size of a horse’s stall, barely large enough for a bedroll, clothing trunk, and a tattered rug. “You miss many things when your world is so small. Not that I’m complaining,” I quickly add when the air cools a fraction. “I’m most grateful for my place here, but I never leave Ikh Zuree. I’m like a fish that hasn’t a clue the whole wide ocean exists beyond its bowl.”
Ghoa stares at me, her skeptical gaze boring into my face, but I do not falter because I don’t know who Temujin is. Eventually the air warms and she lets out a long, tired sigh. She reaches into her boot and extracts something small and gray—the strip of fabric Varren tore from Temujin’s tunic.
“Not only is Temujin a traitor,” Ghoa says, rubbing the cloth between her fingers, “he’s a belligerent thief, a dangerous pretender, and a menace to Ashkar. The Sky King has been hunting him and his band of rebels for months.”
The wings of hope that had been fluttering in my chest crash to the pit of my stomach and fester like rancid meat. All these grand illusions I’d had of heroes and saviors, but of course Temujin is a criminal. Who else would help Enebish the Destroyer?
“What has he done?” I ask quietly, afraid to hear the answer. I don’t even know the boy, but the thought of him being a murderer makes my heart howl with disappointment. I need him to be good because I need someone to believe I am good, and being saved by a criminal essentially proves the opposite.
“He’s the leader of the Shoniin.” Ghoa waits, studying my face. Somehow I manage to keep my expression blank, even though my thoughts are galloping faster than the stallions in the Qusbegi races. According to outlawed legend, the Shoniin were a mystical group of shaman—the oldest and most devout followers of the First Gods. Is she hinting at my secret worship? Is she trying to entrap me on more than one charge?
“You know, the traitors who reject the Sky King’s reforms and continue to worship that sky goddess?” she presses. “Surely you’ve heard of them?” I nod carefully and she continues with greater zeal. “They whisper blasphemies to their wicked prayer dolls, and dabble in divination and unnatural healing, and, worst of