Page 15 of The Blood Traitor

“What?” Kiva asked, unsure if she wanted to hear the answer.

“We might be stuck in the Abyss — fornow— but it’s up to us how we see it. We can look at the darkness and let it consume us, or we canrecognize that it’s only temporary, trusting that once it passes, the light will return,” Cresta said. “It’s all about our attitude.” She paused for a beat, then said, quieter, “You used to be a fighter, Kiva. Don’t you think your friends would want you to fight — not just for yourself, but for them? After everything, don’t you owe them that?”

There was a lump in Kiva’s throat that refused to budge. She could hear it in her voice when she forced out the words, “What does it matter? I’ll never see them again.”

“You’ve escaped Zalindov once. Nothing seems to be impossible for you.”

“I had help, though,” Kiva said. “This time, no one knows I’m in here — no one but Zuleeka and Mirryn and the transfer guards I traveled with.”

Cresta made a thoughtful sound. “I’ll admit, thatdoescomplicate things. But still, never say never.” Her clothes rustled as she moved again, then a pained moan slipped out, reminding Kiva that she was injured.

Casting her tumultuous thoughts aside, Kiva said, “Before you list all the reasons why I should prepare for a prison break, stay still for a moment and let me heal you.”

She shifted until her palms connected with Cresta’s torso, then closed her eyes, calling forth the magic in her blood. She had no training — no idea what she was doing — but for years her power had lingered just beneath the surface, always waiting for her, ready for her command. Even when she’d buried it as deep as it would go, she’d still felt it whispering to her. It was only after she’d escaped Zalindov that it had started bursting out of her uncontrollably, demanding her attention.

When she tried to summon it now, Kiva was startled to realize that she hadn’t felt the touch of her power in weeks — not since the night of the masquerade.

Opening her eyes again, she saw nothing but the blackness of the Abyss, and her body froze as her mind conjured images of Zuleeka’sshadowy magic. That same evil was inside Kiva. With a single thought, instead of healing Cresta, she could kill her.

“Is something meant to be happening?” Cresta asked impatiently.

“I —” Kiva swallowed. “I just need a second.”

Biting her cheek, she ignored the anxious sweat dotting her skin even in the chilled cell, and banished all thoughts of dark, shadowy magic tendrils. Her magic was good — it helped others, healed others. She would never use it for evil.

With a steadying inhale, Kiva summoned it again, this time feeling it stir within her. But just as a tinge of golden light began to glow from her hands, panic swept over her, and the light vanished again, leaving them in darkness once more.

In a wry voice, Cresta said, “You’ve picked a hell of a time to have performance issues.”

Shaken, Kiva replied, “I’m sorry. I think — I’m just tired. Magic takes energy, and I don’t have a lot of that these days.”

Surely that was it, Kiva told herself. She was exhausted, underfed, and soul-weary. There was nothing left to fuel her power. That had to be why it had been so quiet for weeks. If she’d had magical training, she might have known how to summon it regardless, but everything she knew about her power had been self-taught. And mostly trial and error — with a lot of luck thrown in.

That luck had, apparently, run out.

“Don’t worry about it,” Cresta said. “I already told you I’m not that bad — a few days, and I’ll be all better.”

Kiva felt the guilt of her failure wash over her —anotherfailure. Cresta had helped her through so much since her return to Zalindov, and she couldn’t even repay the ex-quarrier by easing her pain.

“It’s almost like I can hear you thinking,” Cresta murmured. “Stop it. I’m fine.”

“You’re hurt,” Kiva returned. “And I —”

“This is nothing,” Cresta said. “You should have seen what they did to me after the riot.Thatwas unpleasant.”

Kiva winced. She might not have liked Cresta then — it was debatable whether she liked Crestanow— but she’d never enjoyed knowing others were suffering.

“If I’d been smarter, I would have stayed in the infirmary after I realized who you were, since I should have figured out that if you made it through the Trial, you’d go directly to your mother and the boy,” Cresta mused. “Then I could have escaped with you.”

Kiva tried to picture it — Cresta leaving Zalindov alongside her, Naari, Jaren, and Tipp — but the image was too strange for her mind to conjure. It did, however, prompt her to ask, “All along, you expected the rebels to break you out?”

“Fat lot of good that came to be,” Cresta muttered.

“How did you — I mean — I’ve always wondered —” Kiva tried again. “How did you become a rebel?”

“Get up.”

Kiva jerked. “What?”

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