Page 57 of The Prison Healer

“You didn’t answer my question.”

Kiva remained silent for a long while, thinking over her response. It wasn’t until they were out of the quarry and following the rail tracks back to the prison gates that she finally answered.

“I represent everything Cresta hates about Zalindov,” Kiva said. “To her mind, I do exactly what I’m told, when I’m told. And it’s true—I do.” Because unlike Cresta, Kiva cared whether she lived or died, and she found that being obedient was more likely to keep her on this side of the everworld. She played the game, having chosen long ago to sacrifice her soul in order to save her life. The other prisoners resented her for that.Especiallythe rebels. And yet she was still breathing, while many of them were now dead.

“The carvings,” Naari guessed.

“Among other things,” Kiva said. “Plus, I kept her alive when she first arrived here.”

A confused pause, before Naari said, “Usually people are grateful for that.”

“Not if they want to die.”

A loaded silence met Kiva’s words, during which time she recalled how Cresta had tried to kill herself in her early weeks at Zalindov, using glass shards to slice open her wrists. If not for Kiva’s quick actions, the angry young woman would have died. It was Kiva who had unintentionally lit a fire in Cresta after that, telling her that she was strong and powerful and could survive anything, and that she owed it to herself to find a reason to live.

Cresta had done exactly that, rallying the prison rebels and deciding that her purpose in life was to cause as much conflict as possible, for guards and inmates alike.

“You’re really good at making friends, aren’t you,” Naari said in a dry tone, prompting a reluctant chuckle out of Kiva.

“It’s one of my truest talents in life,” she replied just as dryly.

But as they continued back toward the gates and Kiva caught the small smile lurking on the guard’s face, she wondered if maybe she wasn’t so bad at it, after all—and that thought made her stomach tense enough that she refused to consider it further. Instead, she focused her attention on returning to the infirmary and testing her samples, while distracting herself from the upcoming Ordeal and the very real threat of death looming over her head.

Chapter Seventeen

“How d-d-did you go?”

Kiva and Naari had barely set foot inside the infirmary before Tipp was upon them, bouncing up and down as he waited for an answer.

“I should have enough to get started,” Kiva told him, patting her bag. “How didyougo?”

“I g-got a few,” the young boy answered, gesturing to the floor near the workbench where he’d used a mashup of items to construct a small circular pen.

“How many is a few?” Kiva asked, following him over to it.

“Five,” Tipp said. “But Grendel t-told me that she’s seen a heap nesting near the crematorium, so I should be able to g-get as many as you need.”

Nodding with approval, Kiva looked down at the five rats running around the pen, deciding not to comment on the makeshift obstacles Tipp had fashioned from scraps for them to use as playthings. Instead, she said, “Once I have samples from other places, we’ll need a way to separate them. I can’t have quarry-tested rats mixing with farm-tested rats, or any of the others. If they get sick, I have to know what the origin was.”

“Already on it,” Tipp replied. “Mot’s c-coming by later to help me divide the p-pen into sections.”

Kiva placed her bag carefully on the workbench. “Actually, I could use Mot helping me.”

“Jaren can help you,” Naari told Tipp. “He’s good with his hands.”

Kiva’s brows shot upward.

Naari rolled her eyes. “I heard him telling some of the tunnelers that he helped his brother build a fort to play in. He’s good with his handsat building things.”

The stern way she looked at Kiva might as well have been a screaming reiteration of what she’d said the other night—that she only ever behaved professionally toward the prisoners, including  Jaren.

Coughing quietly, Kiva said, “Sounds like a plan.” She then arranged her quarry samples on the bench, deciding her next steps. As she did so, the amulet under her tunic shifted, causing a momentary flash of panic. The Trial by Fire was in two days.Two days. If her family didn’t come soon ...

Kiva shoved the thought from her mind. There was nothing she could do but hope that they would. And if they didn’t, she had to have faith in the princess’s word, in her magic. She had to have faith in a Vallentis—one of the last people Kiva would ever choose to trust, and yet perhaps her only option if she wanted to remain alive.

Gritting her teeth, Kiva sought distraction in her work. If she didn’t find a way to treat the stomach illness, there was a high possibility that she herself would get sick. If that happened ... well, at least she wouldn’t have to worry about the Trials anymore. Nor would she need a rescue.

With that grim thought, she pushed all her concerns aside and focused on her task.

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