Page 124 of The Prison Healer

“Don’t answer now,” Jaren said quickly, cutting into her thoughts. “Just— Just think about it, all right?”

Kiva could only nod. And then when Jaren indicated for her to turn right, she did so, helping him hobble down the long, dark tunnel, having no idea where it would end, but certain that whatever was around the corner would change her life forever.

Kiva had been right about the coming change.

But not in the way she’d anticipated.

It was Jaren who realized much sooner than she did; Jaren who noticed that there were no workers in the tunnels, no prisoners digging away to extend them, to find more water.

The labyrinth was empty.

And when his earth magic finally guided them to the ladder chute and they painstakingly climbed to the surface, it became clear that Kiva’s success over the Trials was to be put on hold.

There was no one waiting for them.

No Rooke, no Naari, no guards at all.

Only screams.

Chapter Thirty-Two

It took Kiva mere seconds to realize what had begun while she and Jaren had been traversing the underground maze.

It wasn’t just the screams that gave it away. It was the sounds of steel on steel, the whistles of quarrels and arrows, the baying of the hounds ... and the blood.

The grounds of Zalindov were already stained with it.

It was so much worse than any riot Kiva had witnessed before. Even from within the domed building that covered the entrance to the tunnels, she could see masses of prisoners fighting against the armed guards, hammers and chisels and pickaxes against swords and shields and bows. Everywhere she looked, people were wrestling, bodies littering the ground, some writhing in pain, others still and silent. None cried out louder than those fending off the dogs, whose sharp canine teeth shredded flesh and snapped bones.

All of this Kiva took in within the space of a breath, panic overwhelming her mind before adrenaline cleared it. She looked at Jaren and gasped, “Tipp— Tilda— I have to—”

“Go!” he finished for her, urging her forward. “I’ll catch up!”

She was already running as he called, “Be careful!” after her. He would follow as fast as his injured body allowed, but it might not be fast enough. She needed to get to the infirmary, to Tipp, to Tilda, and make sure they were safe. She would barricade the door, lock them in the quarantine room if she had to, whatever it took to protect them. Olisha and Nergal would look after themselves—they’d probably already left to find a hiding place—but Tipp and Tilda ... Kiva needed to hurry, hurry,hurry.

Awhooshingsound had her swerving just in time to miss an arrow that shot into the ground too close for comfort. Her feet faltered, fear clutching at her chest, but she continued on, sprinting through the bottleneck of inmates and guards clashing near the western watchtower, dodging and ducking until she reached the barracks and could use it for cover. The noises of the battle made her desperate to block her ears, if only to drown out the agony all around her.Whywere they doing this? It would achieve nothing. The moment the violence broke out, the Warden would have been ushered to the top of the wall, following protocol for even the smallest of riots. There would be no getting to him, not unless the prisoners overcame every single guard and then climbed the wall themselves. Rooke was the safest man at Zalindov, and he would remain that way as long as the riot continued, watching from on high as prisoner after prisoner fell.

Maybe this was what he’d wanted all along. A riot was the swiftest way to guarantee mass carnage. He would have no need for his poison after today, and there would be no questions asked—he would never see justice for his crimes, with blame for the innumerable deaths falling squarely on the uncontrolled violence.

Another whistling arrow prompted Kiva to duck just as itwhooshedpast her ear, close enough for her to feel the air move. She made a gargled sound of fright, but it was drowned out by the clamor around her, the yelling of the guards and prisoners alike.

Still bolting across the grounds, Kiva watched for arrows and flying daggers from the guards, but likewise watched for the improvised weapons of the inmates, seeing guards piled on the ground with their heads smashed in or with open lacerations, some still with hand tools sticking out of them as they stared unseeing into the sky.

For every guard that had fallen, Kiva saw ten downed prisoners. More. And she knew that at any moment, she could join them. And yet still she ran, keeping an eye out for Naari, unsure if she wished for the guard to be by her side or hurrying to protect Jaren. Unsure if—

BOOM!

Kiva was thrown from her feet, a scream leaving her as she soared through the air and slammed onto the cold, hard earth.

For a moment, she could only lie there, stunned. Her ears were ringing, the sounds of the continued riot muffled into nonsensical background noise, her vision blurry and fading in and out of focus.

Flat on her stomach, Kiva turned her head just in time to see the watchtower fall.

An explosion—someone had causedan explosion. They’d blasted the base of the tower, the stone corner crumbling right out from under it, the entire structure tilting precariously before gravity took hold and it crashed to the ground.

The earth shook at the impact, the guards who had been shooting arrows from the safety of the raised platform now crushed beneath it. Dead.

“Take that, yeh dogs!”

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