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But it was the Nomad who leaned forward. “I’ll trade, but if you think this ends with freedom…” His eyes were unreadable behind the veil, but his tone was deadly. “You haven’t understood the Yule Fates at all. I’ll find you and you’ll…” A coughing fit took over, and I reached into the bag for the book with the silver phoenix emblem on it.

His words twisted in my chest; not just because of the threat but they also implied that he knew so much more than me about the book. As if what was about to unfold was already written, whether I understood them or not.

“You can’t do that.” Kit grabbed his arm. “Not here.”

I didn’t care who took the trade; I just needed to get out of there as fast as possible.

“You walk out of here. I get the Codex of Witches. The one with the gold phoenix on the front, not the other one you slipped into your bag.”

I clucked my tongue at him. He was in no position to stop me, but Kit was. “I walk out of this city. You get the book.” The clearer, the better with such a bargain, and I had no idea if that was the real name of the book.

Even if I gave them the codex, it wasn’t the book that hummed gently in the bag. It wasn’t the one that pulled at me, so perhaps I didn’t care. Ember had the Wild Witch’s book, and I had two others. I just hoped the Fairground Manager was gullible and took the decoy book without question.

“So be it.” He groaned as another spasm took him and he bent double.

“So be it,” I mouthed and placed my hand over my heart, and he did the same. It seemed like the first time that night we had agreed on anything, and that was a deeply unsettling thought.

Replacing the book in my bag, I readjusted the strap by securing it across my body. All Riders could read anything written with a phoenix quill; I doubted they could read ancient Annatalian, even if they were able to restore the book to read it.

The Nomad tried to stand, and Kit staggered to help him up. “Go. I’ve no interest in holding you.” There was a bite in Kit’s tone that suggested he didn’t agree with whatever the Nomad had planned for me. “But out there, Air is flying around, and Zeph is looking for… He is always looking for…” He scrubbed down his scruff and ground his teeth, then… “There’s a load of rogues flying around tonight trying to pick off ours and—”

It’s Yule, and it’s dangerous. It almost sounded like he cared, and I paused for a second to wonder why.

“Kit!” the Nomad barked and gripped his commander’s shoulder. It was satisfying to see the smugness draining out of his shoulders.

In the small hallway, Kit was imposing, with the torchlight behind him and his face in shadow. He stood as men always did when the world had never once told them no. He was born with a privilege that I recognised all too well. Hatred straightened my spine, but I kept it buried deep down inside me. That was what being from a royal court taught you early on—show no one your true self.

Kit read something on my face that must have seemed like recognition. “You know who I am? Then this is simple.” He tugged off his glove and held out his hand, and a weaving trail of orange, red, and searing blue fire trickled out from his index finger. The reason the Riders were celibate—their Skyworld touch would burn a person to cinders. “Fulfil the bargain.” Fire threaded between his fingers. “Before I make you.”

I reached up for the rim of the open hatch while forcing my glare to remain on him. He gave me one small nod, his eyes never leaving mine. “What is it about you that’s… familiar?” he murmured as I jumped up and swung my legs through the hatch.

It took effort to fight the impulse to see if there was any Harrow Root left on the pin and if my aim was good enough to pierce his cheek. Even if it caused a small amount of pain, it would’ve been worth it, but tonight wasn’t about revenge.

A gust of wind pushed against my back, and I tightened my grip on the lip of the opening. I was out of the building, and the air would swallow my words. “We met long ago.”

I was there that night, and he had done nothing to stop my brother, Lex, from falling. In one swift movement, I pulled the book out of my bag and flung it at him.

“Wait—” Kit called, but I pushed myself up to standing and grabbed the hatch door.

Our eyes met, and I smirked. “Leave it be, or you’ll end up like your lackey.”

“Lackey?” Kit laughed as I slammed the hatch shut.

I shook my head at myself. There was no reason for me to help one of the Prince Rider’s soldiers, but I had experienced the pain Harrow Root could cause. The Barren guards had taken to lacing our water with it when we had first been captured.

I placed my head against the closed hatch and said, “Harrow Root.”

“We’ll get the leaves from Aster.”

Confusion twisted inside me. What was Aster doing helping the Prince Riders? He hated them more than I did, but then they had all been best friends once.

I filled my lungs and rolled my shoulders. “You should watch your men, Desert Prince, or they might stumble into one of us again and not survive it.”

“Sounds like a promise.” His voice was low and rough and directly on the other side of the hatch. “But if you keep standing in his way, you’ll get burned.”

“By the end of this, I’ll be your reckoning,” I vowed.

Snow-clogged winds whipped around me. As a sizzling sound came from the hatch, I hoped it would take their fire a little time to get through. I’d be well on my way to Ember and Thorn by then. In the distance, the lights of the fairground shone like a beacon, and a phoenix screeched and boots thundered on the cobbles far below me.