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Night Spinner (Night Spinner, #1) by Addie Thorley
Publisher: Page Street Kids
Release Date: February 11th 2020
Genre: Young Adult, Fantasy, Retellings
Synopsis:
A must-read for fans of Leigh Bardugo’s Grishaverse, transforming The Hunchback of Notre Dame into a powerful tundra-inspired epic.
Before the massacre at Nariin, Enebish was one of the greatest warriors in the Sky King’s Imperial Army: a rare and dangerous Night Spinner, blessed with the ability to control the threads of darkness. Now, she is known as Enebish the Destroyer―a monster and murderer, banished to a monastery for losing control of her power and annihilating a merchant caravan.
Guilt stricken and scarred, Enebish tries to be grateful for her sanctuary, until her adoptive sister, Imperial Army commander Ghoa, returns from the war front with a tantalizing offer. If Enebish cancapture the notorious criminal, Temujin, whose band of rebels has been seizing army supply wagons, not only will her crimes be pardoned, she will be reinstated as a warrior.
Enebish eagerly accepts. But as she hunts Temujin across the tundra, she discovers the tides of war have shifted, and the supplies he’s stealing are the only thing keeping thousands of shepherds from starving. Torn between duty and conscience, Enebish must decide whether to put her trust in the charismatic rebel or her beloved sister.No matter who she chooses, an even greater enemy is advancing, ready to bring the empire to its knees.
Book Links:
Excerpt:
Chapter one
Darkness
waits like a devil outside my window— curling its shadowy
fingertips beneath the shutters, drawing its inky claws across the
latch, raising every hair on my body as temptation trickles down my
spine.
Enebish,
it whispers. Not with words that anyone else can hear; the ghostly
plea lives inside my mind, inside my entire being, coursing through
my veins like blood and filling my lungs with breath.
I grit my teeth and burrow deeper
into my bedroll, one hand clenched around my prayer doll, the other
fingering the small circular stone embedded at the base of my throat.
The harder I press, the quicker its calming tingles flow into my
bloodstream, filling me with warmth and steadiness and light. The
perfect antidote to darkness.
Tonight, I will not listen.
Tonight, I
am in control.
The night slams against my window
in protest, lashing the glass like rain.
Enebishhhhh,
it cries.
It feels like thousands of tiny
fire ants are burrowing beneath my skin. I toss and turn and sweat
for as long as I can stand it. Then I bolt upright and turn to the
window.
Just a peek. One tiny glimpse and
I’ll be satisfied. There’s no danger in simply looking at the
darkness. . . .
Lies!
my conscience screams. A
glimpse is never enough. Remember what you did. Remember why you’re
imprisoned.
I squeeze my eyes shut and try to
picture the rolling fields of Nariin drenched in vicious orange
flames. I press my fists to my stomach, trying to evoke the shredding
pain I felt when the monster inside me ripped through my bones and
seized control of my Kalima power. But thanks to the glorious,
gleaming moonstone embedded in the center of my collarbone, there’s
nothing. No monster. No memories. Just a swirling, amorphous darkness
and a crushing weight upon my chest. Making the incident feel less
real, less horrific.
Hardly dangerous,
the night coaxes.
With a pathetic squeal, I kick
out of my blankets like a fly escaping a spider’s web, and limp
across my chamber to the window.
Even though I know what I’ll
find, I gasp when I fling the shutters wide. Millions of ebony
tendrils crash against the glass. To anyone else, the midnight sky
would look empty and quiet. Peaceful, even. But to me, it looks like
a tangled mass of coal-black snakes: frenzied and teeming and alive.
Each ribbon of darkness is roughly the length of my forearm, and
together they form the undulating tapestry of night.
I lift a finger to the frosted
pane and trace a slow, looping spiral. The whorls mimic me, so close
that I can feel their heat through the glass. Begging me to flatten
my hand. To press my entire body against the window. Needing more,
More, MORE.
I stagger back and stab my nails
into my palms.
There. You’ve seen them. Now
close the shutters, bury your head beneath your pillow, and pray to
the skies for forgiveness.
But the night won’t let me go
so easily. Not when it’s lured me this far.
Come,
it beckons.
My throat tingles.
I won’t give in.
Sweat beads along my hairline.
I can’t.
The moonstone severs my ability to wield the darkness.
Precisely,
it hums. There’s no
risk, no reason to resist. . . .
My resolve snaps like a
bowstring, and I snatch my crumpled cloak off the floor and steal
into the dormitory hall.
The narrow corridor is twice as
long as the throne room at the Sky Palace, and I limp past door after
door with careful, measured strides. Unfortunately, no matter how
softly I tread, the thump-slide
of my injured leg echoes off the unforgiving tiles and high, frescoed
ceiling. I tighten every muscle and will my body to cooperate. One
wrong step will bring every monk at Ikh Zuree running. They all watch
me like hungry, circling hawks. Eager to earn their salvation, and
more important, the king’s favor and a seat on his Council of
Elders, by “saving” sinners like me. Which isn’t done through
selfless service and finding harmony with one’s family, one’s
enemies, and one’s self, as the First Gods taught. No, followers of
the New Order attain exaltation by reporting the mistakes of others.
The more grievous the infraction, the closer they come to rapture.
And I, the most notorious criminal in the empire, am imprisoned in
the heart of their den. Constantly bombarded by hundreds of predatory
eyes and salivating mouths.
Thankfully, the rushes I laid
this morning help to muffle my uneven gait. The rushes aren’t
technically my duty, but the old ones always smell of rat piss, so
I’ve taken to changing them out of the goodness of my heart. Not
because I plan
on sneaking out.
At the end of the hall, I crack
the door and slip like smoke into the moonlit courtyard. The night
chitters in welcome, flocking to me like bees to budding
globeflowers, delighted to have won our battle of wills again.
Now that I’ve submitted, the
tendrils no longer growl like hungry panthers, but rub against my
hands like sweet, purring kittens. I sigh and tilt my face skyward.
The sensation is euphoric. More freeing than galloping across the
grasslands with the wind in my hair. More satisfying than the whistle
of an arrow flying straight and true toward the center of a target.
Even better than the memory of Ghoa’s proud smile.
The thought of my sister makes my
stomach lurch.
Ghoa wouldn’t be smiling if she
could see me now. She risked her reputation and position as commander
of the Kalima warriors to secure my sanctuary here. These midnight
jaunts could jeopardize everything she’s worked for—and possibly
her life. If I’m caught meddling with the darkness, the king could
easily execute us both. And while I came to terms with my own
execution long ago, I would rather die a thousand deaths than watch
Ghoa swing beside me.
About the Author
Addie Thorley is the author of An Affair of Poisons, a YA historical fantasy, which was chosen as a Barnes and Noble Discover Great New Writers selection and is a YALSA Best Fiction for Young Adults nominee. Her forthcoming novel, Night Spinner, will be released on February 11, 2020.
She spent her childhood playing soccer, riding horses, and scribbling stories. After graduating from the University of Utah with a degree in journalism, Addie decided “hard news” didn’t contain enough magic and kissing, so she flung herself into the land of fiction and never looked back. She now lives in Princeton, New Jersey with her husband, daughter, and wolf dog. When she’s not writing she can be found gallivanting in the woods or galloping around the barn where she works as a horse trainer and exercise rider.
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