Night Spinner (Night Spinner #1) - Addie Thorley Page 0,49

We are losing the war with Zemya for the first time in centuries.

“You’re not very good at concealing your emotions; they’re written plain as day across your face.” I look away quickly, which makes him snicker. “And you should know I’m not a deserter, as the Sky King claims. I never abandoned my post at Novesti. A band of Zemyans raided our camp during the night, and I was cut to ribbons during battle. My battalion left me bleeding in the frozen grass.”

My jaw clenches at the blatant lie. “Imperial warriors are never left behind, no matter how injured.”

“Tell that to my brothers and sisters,” Temujin seethes. “The magic-barren troops don’t abide by the same rules of camaraderie as the Kalima. We are expendable. Especially those of us from the Protected Territories.” Without warning, he lifts the hem of his shirt to his chin. I tell myself to look away. That’s the proper thing to do. But my eyes are already roving over his lean, chiseled chest and trailing down his golden torso. It’s slashed through with muscle, but on top of the muscle are thick, disfiguring scars. As if someone dragged a white-hot poker through his skin, carving a random pattern of pain.

“You’re not the only one with scars,” he says in response to my gasp. “I lay there for two days, bleeding and shaking in the snow. I tried to bear it like a true warrior and accept my fate, but I couldn’t. I was weak and frightened and everything within me screamed to live. So I called upon the spirit of the Sky King—as we’re instructed to do—but hours passed and our illustrious ruler did not answer my plea. Shocking, I know.”

I accidentally let out a pop of laughter and Temujin’s eyes glint with approval.

“Go on,” I say, my voice wispier than intended.

Temujin scoots closer and the hairs on my arms prickle. “As I lay there, drifting between this life and the next, I couldn’t help but notice how blue the sky was—like a polished sapphire, glinting above me. I knew it was forbidden, but I was dying anyway, so I opened up my pleas to the First Gods, to the Lady of the Sky and Father Guzan.”

“They answered,” I say before I can stop myself. Not a question but a truth. A feeling, deep in my gut. Of course They answered. Unlike the king, the Lady and Father would never forsake a child who had called upon Them.

Temujin nods. “I promised to dedicate my life to Them. I swore to protect others who had been forsaken and wronged by the usurper king, and rekindle their faith, if They would stanch the flow of blood and close my wounds.”

I nibble my lower lip and my rebellious eyes dart again to his chest. Ashkar’s healers are renowned, but not even they could have pieced his abdomen back together without divine help. And he wouldn’t have made it from the battlefield to an infirmary without the intervention of the Lady of the Sky.

Goddess-touched blares like a horn through my mind.

Temujin finally lowers his tunic and continues in a somber voice: “After I regained my strength, I tried to catch up with my battalion, but the Zemyans had attacked again the following morning and slaughtered all three hundred of them. I found their bodies, torn and scattered across the snow, a league south of where they’d left me to die. So I walked, alone, twenty leagues across the freezing grasslands to Sagaan, only to be accused of desertion upon arrival. That’s the only way the Sky King and your sister claimed I could have survived the attack. They were going to execute me, but I escaped and went into hiding. I’ve been running ever since, helping others who have been wronged by the Sky King and his empire. Deserting is disgraceful, I know that, but sometimes it’s the only choice.”

I blink at him, too stunned to speak. In my mind, there has never been a middle ground regarding desertion. Only right and wrong. White and black. Loyal and deserter. But it seems wholly unfair to condemn Temujin when he tried to return to the army—even after they left him for dead.

If he’s telling the truth, Ghoa’s voice hisses. Keep your head.

“And you’re like me. Like us.” Temujin looks again at the damning traitor’s mark. “All of the Shoniin bear similar scars.”

For half a second I want to believe him. I want to feel included and understood. Then I drop my