Page 109 of The Prison Healer

She couldn’t believe it.

But still, she made herself get a grip, recalling what Naari had said about only having a few minutes, and tried to prioritize what she needed to know.

“Is Tipp all right?” she asked, despite the guard having just mentioned him.

“He’s fine,” Naari assured her. “He’s worried about you, but I’ve been looking out for him.”

“What about Tilda?”

Naari’s answer was slower in coming, as if she couldn’t believe Kiva was wasting time asking about the Rebel Queen, but she eventually said, “No change.” She paused, then shared further, “Tipp’s guarding her like a watchdog, barely leaving the infirmary so he can stay by her side. He says it’s what you’d have done if you were there, so he’s watching over her in your stead.”

Oh, Tipp,Kiva felt a renewed surge of affection for the young boy, missing him dearly, wishing for just a hint of his effervescence to seep into her dark cell. He wouldn’t need a luminium beacon—he’d light up the space all on his own.

“And the poison?” Kiva asked, unable to wait any longer. “Six days ... I thought more time had passed, but have you figured it out? I wondered if it might be Cresta at first, but I don’t think she—”

“It’s not Cresta,” Naari said. There was something wrong with her voice. It was too low, too flat, too full of emotion. Anger, disbelief ... despair.

“So youdidfigure it out?” Kiva asked, because despite Naari’s strange tone, that in itself was a relief.

“After the quarry,” the guard said, still sounding off, “Olisha sought me out, aware that you and I had grown close. She was angry with you, saying you’d been remiss in your duties as a healer. When she explained about the vials she and Nergal were giving out, it didn’t take much for me to realize what was really in them.” Naari shook her head. “I can’t believe it was happening right under our noses.”

“We had no way to know,” Kiva said, even if she was just as angry with herself.

“I spoke with Warden Rooke,” Naari went on. She shifted on the ground, drawing her arms in closer to herself. Kiva had never seen her look so defeated. “I told him everything—all the tests you’d done, how nothing had been coming up. Then I told him what you’d said at the quarry, and what I’d learned about the so-called immunity boosters.”

Kiva waited, but when Naari said no more, she prompted, “And?”

Naari dragged in a deep breath. “And he already knew about them.”

Kiva’s stomach bottomed out. Denial hit her hard and strong. “No, he didn’t,” she said hoarsely, recalling how he’d found her holding a vial just before the Trial by Water. He’d looked straight at her and asked what it was.

But then ... his eyes had narrowed at her answer, when she’d told him it was nothing important, and he’d refused to speak with her in private, even when she’d blurted out her request. If he reallyhadalready known the truth ...

“Why didn’t hesaysomething?” Kiva demanded.

When Naari remained silent, not looking at her, Kiva continued ranting, “So much wasted time! If he knew about the vials, why did he let us run around like idiots searching for the source? You could have been hunting down the supplier and I could have been working on a cure! There’sso muchwe would have done differently if we’d known! So many people whodidn’t need to die! ”

Kiva was burning with resentment. If there had been room to move in her cell, she would have gotten up and paced. What had Warden Rooke beenthinking, keeping that from her? How long had he known? After the Trial by Fire, he’d wished herluck. He’d told her that many lives werecountingon her. Had he known then? Had he just been laughing at her as she met failure after failure?

Something like this went around years ago, soon after I first became the Warden. You were probably too young to remember—

“I don’t understand,” Kiva wailed as she recalled what he’d told her, knowing that he’d faced the same sickness—the samepoison—years ago. “Why would he keep that secret, when it could have helped? He was at risk, too.Everyonewas.”

Only, that wasn’t true, Kiva realized.

Because not a single guard had fallen ill.

A strange, tingling sensation began to spread through her insides, as if she were beginning to understand something that, once discovered, could never be unlearned.

Something like this went around years ago, soon after I first became the Warden.

Naari wasn’t meeting her gaze. The feeling within Kiva intensified into the roiling, bowel-twisting sensation of true dread.

“Naari?” Kiva said, her voice unintentionally quiet, as if she subconsciously didn’t want to ask, didn’t want to know.

Finally, the guard looked back at Kiva. The same emotions were still blazing behind her eyes—anger, disbelief, despair. But there was a new one, too: helplessness.

“I swear I didn’t know,” Naari whispered, her normally strong voice hoarse. “If I’d known, I would have said something, done something. I would have stopped it.”

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