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“I smelled nutmeg.”

“Right. That’s a totally normal reason to be here.”

Taly rolled her eyes, shivering and pulling her collar higher. “It was in my vision, jackass.”

Skye could’ve pointed out that now probably wasn’t the best time to chase down vague clues from cryptic visions. But he also wasn’t all that interested in returning to the town hall. He and Taly had already done their part for the evening. The pledges had been made. The second half would most likely devolve into further infighting and petty sniping, each House vying to outdo the others with their contributions.

“Look, I don’t care if you go off chasing visions,” he said. “But the same rules for wandering off still apply. Wait for me. Yeah?”

She glanced over her shoulder. “You caught up, didn’t you?”

It was… not exactly the arrangement he’d envisioned, but he’d take it. As long as she stayed findable, he wouldn’t complain—much.

Coming up behind her, he slung an arm around her shoulders. She leaned into him, stealing his warmth and using him as a shield against the biting wind.

“Why don’t you tell me what you’re looking for,” he said, leaning closer to reclaim some of the warmth she’d taken. “Maybe I can help.”

“It’s a… a shop, I think. When I was scrying, I heard a bell—like on a door when it opens and closes. It smelled like metal and dust.”

“And nutmeg?”

She nodded. “Someone passed by me earlier, and the smell was the same. I mean,justlike it. So, I asked them where they were coming from, and they said the Shadowspire District. And now I really wish I’d asked for more information. I thought I’d recognize it when I got here, but I forgot what a maze this place is.”

Okay… he could work with that.

Skye closed his eyes and inhaled deeply: rain-soaked stone, fry grease still clinging to the walls of a shuttered food cart, smoke curling from a chimney four rooftops over—sweet, resinous, not a wood he recognized.

“Skye?”

He raised a hand, focusing. Sorting. The scents were layered thick:garlic crushed into brick, tanned leather still sweating out its dye, something syrupy and scorched, burned sugar or maybe spiced nuts.

And there beneath it all—he found it. Warm. Subtle. Faint but distinct.

Nutmeg.

“This way,” he said.

Taly gave a little hop of excitement, following him as he followed the scent trail, letting it guide him through thelabyrinth of crooked, winding streets and alleys. “Seriously, who needs a dog with you around?”

Tight turns led to even narrower passageways, a perfect maze of cobblestone paths lined with shuttered stalls and closed shops. The scent of nutmeg was his beacon. He moved with purpose down every twist and turn, ignoring Taly’s insistence that he was a “very good boy.”

Finally, they reached a small, secluded courtyard. The scent of nutmeg was strongest here, emanating from a quaint, unassuming little tea shop tucked into the corner. The lights inside were dark, though the smell permeated the entire area, enough that it would stick to anyone who spent their days here.

Overhead, red and white lanterns swayed slightly in a gentle breeze, casting dancing shadows on the walls.

“Well?” Skye asked as Taly chewed her lip, looking around at the darkened store windows.

Across the courtyard, a bell clattered as a door slammed open, followed by acrashas a shadow stumbled out, banging into the opposite wall before slumping to the ground.

Taly pointed. “That looks promising.”

Skye breathed deeply, scenting blood, pain, fear. He could hear the galloping beat of a panicking heart. “Taly—”

“Don’t say stay here.”

He didn’t know why it still surprised him when she insisted on charging straight into danger. “Fine. But stay behind me.” She opened her mouth. “And no arguing. We talked about this. I’m the meat shield; you’re the firepower.”

It was the compromise they’d reached. Amazing what a little time tangled in the sheets could do for communication. As it turned out, Taly didn’t mind hiding behind him—provided it was her choice, and he stayed out of her line of fire.