Page 52 of The Prison Healer

Only ten minutes away by horseback, Vaskin was the closest town to Zalindov, so the guards often headed there to blow off steam after their shifts ended. Some even lived there, especially those with families, since the prison barracks were no place for partners and children. While curious whether Naari lived onsite or off, Kiva wasn’t yet comfortable enough to ask such a personal question. Instead, at the daring look the guard sent her, she pushed aside her trepidation and accepted Naari’s offer.

“Fine,” Kiva said, failing to hide her apprehension. But she squared her shoulders and, with more confidence, shared what was left for her to do before Olisha and Nergal arrived. She then watched with continued amazement as Naari gave a nod of understanding and rolled up her sleeves.

And so, the healer and the guard worked side by side into the night, the balance of power between them blurring—and perhaps, as Kiva was beginning to realize, fading entirely.

Chapter Fifteen

Two days later, the morning dawned with the threat of looming rain, but Kiva was determined that nothing was going to stop her from beginning her investigation into the origin of the stomach sickness.

When she’d left Naari the night before last—or rather, when the guard had leftherafter safely delivering her to her cell block—the amber-eyed woman had again promised to speak with Warden Rooke as soon as possible. And sure enough, upon Kiva’s arrival at the infirmary the next morning, Naari had been waiting, claiming that the Warden had given her leave to escort Kiva through the gates. Unfortunately, an influx of new patients yesterday had taken all of Kiva’s time and attention, but today she’d had the foresight to conscript Olisha and Nergal to swap to the day shift so that she could leave with Naari.

After quickly looking in on the quarantined patients, and checking Tilda—who continued to show a frustrating lack of improvement—for pressure sores, Kiva met Naari at the entrance to the infirmary. The guard looked the same as always in her black leather, with the slight difference being that she carried a small rucksack, and instead of having two swords strapped to her back, she had only one belted to her waist, with a crossbow now slung over her shoulder.

Kiva couldn’t help an internal shiver at the sight of the new weapon, even though it was standard for all guards who left through the gate. While there was still the secondary perimeter fence far beyond the outer work areas, the long-range crossbows were an added deterrent for any prisoners who sought to try their luck at escape. Kiva wasn’t stupid—she knew she had no chance at fleeing. Not without help.

Stay alive.

Don’t let her die.

We are coming.

“Still heading to the quarry first?” Naari asked once Kiva was before her.

“That’s the plan,” Kiva said, and the guard nodded and began leading the way from the infirmary.

Tipp had wanted to come, but Kiva had worried about pushing her luck with the Warden. There was no valid reason for him to accompany her, so she’d given him another job in her absence. It was important, since Kiva would need what he collected to be ready upon her return, but she didn’t envy him the task. He, however, had responded with boyish delight, acting as if she’d given him a birthday and Yulemas gift all at once. Sometimes Kiva forgot he was only eleven.

Naari didn’t say anything as they walked toward the main gates, and Kiva followed her example. It began spitting just as they passed the kennels and approached the central barracks, and Kiva shivered as the icy droplets hit her skin. She’d grown used to enduring the bitter temperatures wearing only her thin tunic and pants, but she always dreaded the winter months. She was lucky, compared to those who had to labor outdoors, but still, cold was cold.

“Here,” Naari said, reaching into her rucksack when the rain grew heavier, withdrawing a canvas poncho, and thrusting it toward Kiva.

With numb hands—from shock, not the cold—Kiva took it, staring at it mutely.

“Put it on before you’re soaked,” Naari said, as if speaking to an idiot.

Kiva followed the command on instinct. The canvas was heavy on her shoulders, but she was protected from the rain and felt an instant rush of heat from her trapped body warmth. When she raised the hood over her dark hair, she nearly moaned at the difference in temperature.

“The last thing we need is you getting sick,” Naari explained before Kiva could offer her gratitude. “Olisha and Nergal are useless. If anyone’s going to figure out how to stop this illness before we all die, it’s you.”

It was a valid excuse for the offering, but Kiva didn’t think it was the only reason Naari had brought the poncho. Her own leathery armor protected her from the elements—she hadn’t needed to bringanythingfor Kiva, despite her words. And yet she had.

In another time, another place, Kiva wondered if they might have been friends. Evenhereit was beginning to feel that way, though she didn’t dare dwell on that for long, knowing how dangerous such a thought was. Guards came and went, and soon enough, Naari would be gone, like all those before her.

Once they stepped around the corner of the entrance block, the iron gates rose high above them, forged into the limestone walls that encircled the compound. Rail cart tracks intersected the entrance, leading from the luminium depository and harvest factory inside the grounds, and traveling out the gates toward the lumberyard, the farms, and the quarry. At the end of each day, laborers would load the carts and return with their spoils, but right now, the tracks offered nothing more than a guiding path for Kiva and Naari to follow.

With a wave to the guards up in the towers, Naari didn’t pause before venturing outside, and Kiva, while on edge, kept in step just behind her.

In Kiva’s ten years at Zalindov, she’d passed through the gates only a handful of times to treat prisoners who hadn’t been able to make it to the infirmary without medical attention. In each of those instances, she’d felt what she did now—a thrill at being beyond the central compound, so close to freedom, yet still so far away.

She wondered where her family was, how long until the rebels arrived to free her. Then she cast the thought from her mind, knowing there was nothing she could do to speed up the process. Today she had one goal, and she would give it her full attention.

“Guard Arell, a word?”

Kiva and Naari halted at the sound of Warden Rooke’s voice calling out to them, unmistakable even with the rain still drumming down. They turned to find him striding through the gates in their wake, heedless of the water bouncing off his leather uniform.

Wondering about his presence, Kiva watched the Warden jerk his head toward the stables just outside the prison entrance, indicating for them to seek shelter within. The smell of hay and horse assailed her nose as she stepped inside, the rain almost deafening as it beat down on the roof above them.

“You, stay,” Rooke told Kiva, before looking pointedly at Naari and walking to the far end of the stables, still within sight—and crossbow reach—but far enough away that Kiva couldn’t hear what they were saying.

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