Page 91 of The Prison Healer

Sighing again, Kiva knew it was out of her hands, so she hitched her bag further up her shoulder and continued her journey to the tunnel entrance, refocusing on her mission. Both the aquifer and the pumping station were accessed via the same shaft that led down to the tunnels, so once she reached the domed stone building, she stepped inside to wait for Naari. There was nothing to look at, only a set of ladders poking out from the large rectangular hole in the ground.

The guard arrived minutes later, her face stormy. “Please tell me Harlow’s rash is painful as well as itchy.”

Kiva swallowed her laugh and said, “Judging by how he winces when he walks, I’m guessing so.”

“Good,” Naari said, sounding satisfied. She jerked her head toward the ladders descending into the shaft. “Let’s get this over with.”

They headed to the pumping station first, but only for convenience reasons, since it was located nearest to the bottom of the ladder—orladders,really, since there were a number of them to climb down before reaching the tunnel floor, all connected by platforms narrow enough that Kiva felt her stomach jump to her throat every time she transferred from one to the next.

She’d ventured beneath Zalindov only twice before, both times to test the water in the aquifer for algae and other natural contaminants, and both journeys had been just as harrowing as today’s. Her legs felt like custard when she finally touched the earth at the base of the shaft, perspiration dotting her forehead from both exertion and the humidity that clung to her skin. She’d once believed the tunnels would be much colder than the outside temperature, but she’d learned during her first underground venture that hot air became trapped more easily, keeping the environment almost balmy in winter, and downright uncomfortable in summer. Many of the prisoners who worked belowground suffered from heat-related ailments and dehydration, especially in the warmer months. Not to mention, it was a stink factory, with all those bodies pressed together and laboring side by side with little ventilation.

“I hate it down here,” Naari stated, landing lightly beside Kiva. “I don’t know how anyone can stand it.”

They can’t,Kiva wanted to say.That’s why so many of them die.The prisoners, at least—the guards rotated out every few shifts. Even Naari came and went only sporadically from the tunnels, spending considerably more time topside than she did beneath the earth. Kiva tried not to judge her for it, especially since she herself was so fortunate with her own work allocation. But it was hard, acknowledging that the guard wasn’t forced to remain down here all day, when people like Jaren had no choice.

“Let’s keep moving,” Kiva said, stepping forward.

She spared a glance to the right, where a long passageway had been carved out, luminium beacons affixed to the limestone walls and lighting the space that continued on out of sight. Later, Kiva and Naari would head down that path, eventually hearing the echo of the tunnelers working tirelessly to extend the labyrinth. Some of the passages were dry and could be walked down, but others, the ones the inmates labored to uncover, were partially submerged by water, and required floating paddle boards to maneuver along. It was that water that fed into the aquifer, and, ultimately, kept everyone in Zalindov alive.

No one acknowledged it, but without the tunnelers and the water they found and guided to the aquifer, every single person at the prison, guards included, would be dead within days. That was why it was so important to have a steady flow of laborers underground, despite the poor conditions and high mortality rate. It made Kiva feel sick, and yet, she also understood what would happen if they stopped searching for more water. There was no winning—either a few died, or they all died.

As Kiva led Naari down the narrow passage to the left of the ladder shaft, the sounds of the pumping station met their ears long before they reached their destination. Operated manually with two prisoners to a pump, the continuous up-down-up-down motion drove the water where it needed to go. Some of the pumps pulled water from the tunnels into the aquifer, but most siphoned water into smaller wells that were then accessed aboveground, like the ones used by prisoners to fetch fresh drinking water. Others fed directly into the shower blocks and bathing chambers, where gravity-fed pipes did the rest of the work. Anywhere water was used, it was only because of the laborers who were pumping day and night to keep a steady supply available topside.

Kiva always struggled when pumpers came into the infirmary, usually for nerve damage to their hands, or for strained backs, necks, and shoulders. There was little she could do for them other than offer painkillers, and after a while, the effect of those began to dull, which was why so many pumpers became addicted to harder drugs, like angeldust. Unlike Kiva’s predecessor, she’d never been willing to supply it for them. She had no idea how it was getting into their hands now, but seeing their glazed eyes as she began to swab the equipment and collect her samples, she knew they were still obtaining it somehow.

Feeling the desolation in the air, Kiva didn’t stay long in the pumping station, quickly taking what she needed while Naari conversed with the guards on duty. They weren’t using their whips, but they didn’t need to. These prisoners were already broken.

“I asked if the pumpers get allocated extra rations,” Naari said as they headed down the next passage, the sounds of moving levers and strained moans fading the further they traveled.

Kiva tried not to reveal her shock at what Naari had just said. “And?”

The guard shook her head and repeated, “I hate it down here.”

It was only a short walk between the pumping station and the aquifer. As the narrow passageway widened and the reservoir came into view, Kiva’s heart began to beat faster in her chest. The luminium beacons were spaced intermittently enough to provide only limited light, but there were still enough spread throughout the underground chasm for Kiva to acknowledge just how far the body of water stretched—further than she couldsee—with the darkness indicating an equally nightmarish depth.

“Is something wrong?”

Kiva turned to find Naari studying her closely, so she asked, somewhat nonsensically, “It’s here, isn’t it?”

The luminium beacons cast shadows over Naari’s face, but not enough to hide her puzzled look. “What’s here? The origin of the sickness? Isn’t that what we’re trying to figure out?”

Kiva shook her head. “No—tomorrow’s Ordeal. Is it being held down here?”

It was still her best guess, enough that she felt queasy as she took in the seemingly endless underground lake.

Naari’s features cleared with understanding, and she glanced out across the aquifer, as if looking at it from a new perspective. “I don’t know.”

Kiva wasn’t sure what her face must have shown, but when Naari looked back at her, the guard was quick to say, “I swear, Kiva. I didn’t know what the last two Trials were beforehand, either. If I knew what tomorrow’s task was, I’d tell you.”

Her tone was so earnest that Kiva believed her. A few weeks ago, she never would have had the courage to even ask, but somehow Naari had become one of the people Kiva trusted most in the world. If the guard said she didn’t know, then she didn’t know.

But that still didn’t help Kiva,at all.

“How long do you think it’d take to swim across?” Kiva asked, crouching beside the nearest edge of the water and scooping some into a flask, careful not to lose her balance.

“Frankly, I don’t want to think about it,” Naari said, a shudder in her normally unwavering voice. Seeing Kiva’s expression, she hastily added, “But I’m sure it won’t take too long, if that’s what you have to do. And it’s freshwater, so there’s nothing nasty living down here, no sea monsters or crocodilians or any other saltwater beasts.”

Thatidea hadn’t even crossed Kiva’s mind. She yanked her hand from the water and backed away quickly, half expecting a maw full of teeth to come raging out of the surface.

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