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“Of course, once you— ” He didn’t get to finish that sentence as a Barren Rider with a red flame on one shoulder and the Barren flag on the other slammed his hand onto the other side of the gate. The wards hummed against his command. He couldn’t see or hear us, but there was a hardened twist to his lips—one that worried me. I leaned forward to try and hear what he was saying, but a large arm wrapped around my shoulder, pulling me back.

“Don’t say a word,” the Nomad whispered. He tugged further, and my back crashed against the hard lines of his chest, and his breath hitched.

“Calm down, oh powerful one.” I elbowed him in the ribs, and he grunted, but didn’t let go. “Get. Off. Me. He can’t see us. Can’t hear us.” Before I could strike again, he stepped away.

The wards shuddered when the Barren Rider placed his gloved hand up to the gate. The Nomad was right. He was acting like he could force the gate open without an amulet.

“Fucking Riders.”

The Nomad was still so close his warmth seeped through my cloak, and I flinched away. Everything about him was confusing, and I wanted rid of him as soon as possible.

“I like you better when you’re respectful.” His words were a low growl.

I scoffed. Respect was earned, and Riders had only demanded obedience of me and my people. “Honestly, I’d like you better if you were dead.”

“There it is. I was wondering when the bite would come out. You rebels are always angry.”

There was no point in answering him. He wasn’t wrong, but we had good cause to be the way we were. “How do you know I’m a rebel?” A Nomad Rider on a mission with an Annatalian rebel was unheard of. If I got out of this alive, I could probably blackmail him with it.

The amulet grew warm. I stepped away from the gate and the Nomad and reached for the visitor book. “Just a little longer. Until that Rider out there is gone.” The book vibrated under my touch, and I understood the battle it was fighting to keep the gate locked. “Thank you.”

The Barren Rider hammered his fist against the gate. “I know you’re there, rebel scum.”

A rush of understanding came crashing over me: my life in Craven City was over. And getting to the escape pods hidden in the wagons just got a million times harder. The lands beyond the city were cursed by the toxic magic used generations ago, and only the protected caravan could pass through them. I would have to set the Call and hope the rebels could get me out.

Or I would have to take to the mines and try to find the whispered tunnels to the Ruckus. I had read about the FootPaths in books of legend—magical tunnels that made miles turn into minutes—but I’d only found mentions of them. Never a map.

The Rider on the other side crashed his hand into the gate, and I snapped back to my current problem. He shook his head slowly as if he were bored and tired rather than angry. “I’ll be waiting outside.” Then he walked back up the stairs.

“I really hope that he was talking to you,” I said to the Nomad as I reached for the bars, but before I opened it, I smiled at the visitor’s book. “If it weren’t for you, I’d never have survived this city. Putting the books back together was…” I was aware of the Nomad studying me, and I stopped. He didn’t need to know the very few things I allowed myself to feel. “Goodbye,” I murmured.

The amulet in my hand was glowing. Whatever the Nomad had done to it, it was back to full power. And he had unknowingly given me another escape route. It wasn’t luck that gave me the answers—I had spent years studying the building, and I knew as many secrets as the Masters. Now that my amulet was fully charged, I could get through other wards in the library that I couldn’t before. The Master’s corridors were a good option, but only if they were empty. All I could do was pray that the Trackers hadn’t pulled every one of them back from the fair.

Checking that the hallway was clear, I pushed the archive door open and stepped out—I was no longer under the room’s protection. Thumping and clattering came from the floor above. The library was once again helping me out as books beat on the stone floors and the shouts of Guards echoed around the towering rooms.

“Where are you going?” asked the Nomad as I crept up the spiral stone staircase.

I passed the window he had mentioned and kept going.

“That’s not the way.” He tugged at the back of my cloak as he opened the window and put a flat whistle between his lips.

“What are you doing?” I hissed. Was that a Phoenix whistle? Was he really calling his beast so loudly when the Trackers were there and looking for us? There was no way I was sticking around to find out what plans he had. I had plans of my own.

A shadow of the beast crossed over the window, but the Nomad had a tight hold on my cloak, so I did the only thing I could think of—I unclipped my cloak from around my neck and ran. With each pounding footstep, I prayed the Elite Trackers weren’t waiting for me at the top. All I had to do was get to the Master’s corridor, and I would be opposite the staircase. The Nomad’s boots beat on the stone staircase behind me, but I didn’t turn to see if he was gaining ground. I was fast, and I knew where I was going.

The third floor was empty, but I was struggling for breath. My lungs cried out for me to stand still, but I had practised shutting out my body’s objections. The door to the Master’s corridor was in sight, and I was going to see if the amulet would work again.

I held the stone up to the door and told it to open. Men’s voices echoed down the corridor, and my pulse raced through me, shaking my hand.

Open, please open.

Click!

The handle twisted in my palm, but before I could push the panel open, a hand shoved me between my shoulder blades, and I was thrown forward. I crashed through into a dark, damp space, with the Nomad right behind me, shutting the panel behind us.

“What was that?” he whispered.

I glared at him, unwilling to use my voice again until I was out of the library.