Chapter Sixteen
The rain stopped completely as Kiva and Naari continued their walk to the quarry, passing the vegetable plantation and the wheat farm, but it returned to a light drizzle when they were trekking past the pigs and poultry.
It took great self-discipline not to pause at all the places they walked past, but Kiva made herself remember her strategy.
She needed to start at the beginning and work her way methodically from there.
On and on they walked, leaving the farms behind, with no words spoken between them. It was only when they were in line with the eastern wall, roughly where Kiva was meant to have leapt to during her Trial by Air, that Naari broke the silence.
“I heard you met the princess after the first Ordeal. What did she say?”
Kiva debated how to answer, but decided that nothing Mirryn had told her—other than about the amulet—would get either of them in trouble. “I think she was mostly curious about me and why I volunteered.”
“That’s all?”
“Apparently I remind her of her girlfriend,” Kiva shared. “Something about how I have the same kind of fighting spirit. I think maybe it was meant to be a compliment?” She shrugged. “Honestly, I was in a lot of pain when we spoke, even with the poppymilk. I couldn’t get a good read on her.”
Naari turned to Kiva. “Princess Mirryn has a girlfriend?”
Kiva shrugged again. “That’s what she said.” Looking closely at Naari, she added, “You’re not one of those royal-obsessed fans, are you? Desperate for any scrap of information?”
“Of course not,” Naari said, frowning. “I’m just surprised.”
“That she’s in a relationship?”
Naari said nothing, her silence confirmation enough.
Kiva snorted, then remembered who she was with and tried to turn it into a cough, resulting in a disgusting sound that she was grateful no one else—like Jaren—was there to hear.
“What’s funny?” Naari asked, proving that Kiva’s attempted cough had failed.
“It’s just ...” Kiva trailed off, trying to think of the best way to say what she was thinking without upsetting the woman strapped to the teeth with lethal weapons.
“I’m guessing the king and queen don’t make proclamations regarding the dating status of their kids.
If Mirryn were to become engaged, then sure, the kingdom would hear about it.
But just having a girlfriend?” Kiva shook her head.
“Sorry, but you can’t be surprised about not knowing that. ”
Again, Naari said nothing. But then—
“Apparently you have the crown prince to thank for saving your life.”
Pulling a face, Kiva said, “I don’t want to talk about him.”
“I hear he’s handsome,” Naari commented.
Kiva nearly tripped over her own feet. “Are we seriously having this conversation?”
“I’m just saying, some people dream of marrying a prince.”
“Marrying ... a ...” Kiva spluttered, unable to even repeat the words. “Are you insane? I can’t think of anything worse.” Especially when it came to a scoundrel like Deverick. Barely a few minutes in his presence and, savior or not, Kiva had been ready to throw something at him.
The guard laughed—whether at Kiva’s words or her disgusted expression, Kiva wasn’t sure.
“Then what do you dream of, healer?”
“I have a name, you know.”
“I know.”
Kiva sighed. “I have a lot of dreams. A lot of nightmares, too. Only time will tell which path my life will take.”
There was a weighty pause before Naari said, quietly, “You are wise for your years, Kiva Meridan.”
You’re wise beyond your years, little mouse .
A lump rose in Kiva’s throat at the memory Naari’s words had brought forth, something her father said to her every time she came up with a new remedy or treatment that he hadn’t considered.
Smart as a whip, our Kiva, her mother used to go on for him, telling anyone who would listen and smiling proudly at her daughter.
Tears prickled Kiva’s eyes, and she blinked them back, no longer having the cover of rain to conceal them. She looked ahead to see how far they had left to walk, relieved to find they were already passing the abandoned quarry to their right, with their destination in sight straight ahead.
Kiva had never visited the abandoned quarry.
It had been depleted a few years before she’d arrived at Zalindov, the laborers relocating further north to the much larger mine where she and Naari were now headed.
She’d heard rumors that while the abandoned one was smaller, the prisoners had been forced to dig so deep into the earth that numerous cave-ins had occurred, resulting in multitudes of deaths.
Similar accidents happened in the newer quarry, though less frequently.
“How do you want to go about this?” Naari asked as the sounds of hammers and chisels meeting rock began to reach their ears. She indicated the bag Kiva had brought with her and added, “The quarry is huge. Do you know where you want to get your samples from?”
“We need to go where the largest concentration of workers are, places that lots of prisoners have access to or spend most of their time.”
Naari’s reply was dry. “You’re making this up as you go, aren’t you.”
It wasn’t a question, so Kiva didn’t answer, though her cheeks did warm slightly.
“This way,” Kiva said as the tracks came to an end.
Rail carts were piled up, empty and waiting for the prisoners to load them and push them back to the depository once their shift was over.
It was hard work, grueling on the body and mind.
Quarriers, like tunnelers, rarely survived long at Zalindov.
There was only one watchtower overlooking the quarry, but there were plenty of guards on the ground making sure the prisoners were working—and providing motivation when they weren’t, their whips and canes stained with blood.
The quarry overseer, Harlow, was the worst of them, and he scowled at Kiva and Naari as they approached where he waited at the base of the watchtower.
“I heard youse was comin’,” Harlow said, chewing with his mouth open and then spitting a wad of blackgum close enough to Kiva’s feet that she wondered if he’d meant it to hit her.
She wouldn’t have been surprised, though it would have made her less inclined to ease his discomfort the next time he came to see her about his chronic venereal rash.
Kiva couldn’t have wished such an ailment on a nicer man, and she took great delight in giving him remedies that stung and burned his nether regions, conveniently overlooking the solution that would heal him in a trice.
Perhaps he should have spat on her. He certainly would have done more than that if he knew the last remedy she’d given him was to deliberately inflame his symptoms, enough that it should be some time before he had the ability to partake in the activities that had resulted in the ailment to begin with.
Served him right, the rat bastard.
“We won’t get in your way,” Naari said in a cool voice.
“Better not,” Harlow said. “And don’t youse bother my workers none, either. I ain’t payin’ ’em to slack off.” He laughed suddenly, one hand clutching his barreled stomach as he arched his back and guffawed. “Payin’ ’em? Ha! Imagine that!”
Kiva shared a look with Naari, whose expression was equally repulsed.
“We won’t stay long,” Naari said, though whether that was to Kiva or Harlow, Kiva was unsure.
“Youse can stay as long as youse want, just not down in the quarry,” Harlow said. He eyed them both and licked his lips. “Youse can come down in my quarry anytime. In fact, why don’t we—”
“We won’t stay long,” Naari repeated firmly, her lip curling with disgust. She turned on her heel and, with a pointed look at Kiva to follow, strode purposefully away from Harlow.
The last Kiva saw of the repugnant overseer as they crested the lip of the quarry was him scratching his crotch, and the image had her biting back a laugh.
“He’s a pig,” Naari said as she came to a stop to look down over the choppy, layered vista spread out into the distance.
“He’s worse than a pig,” Kiva said. Deliberating for a second, she quietly added, “But if it makes you feel any better, he’s suffering in silence as we speak.”
When Naari looked at her in question, Kiva shared about Harlow’s condition and the newest remedy she’d prescribed him. The guard laughed so hard that she had to wipe tears from her eyes.
“Remind me never to get on your bad side,” Naari said, still chuckling.
“He deserves it,” Kiva said.
“That he does,” Naari agreed. She waved at the view before them and said, “I don’t want to give him a chance to come and hassle us, so where to from here?”
Kiva chewed her cheek, considering. The topmost layers of the quarry had already been mined so that there was now a significant—and sheer— drop down to where the prisoners were chiseling away at the lower edges of the pit.
The land itself was an arid gray, but shimmers caught in the light every so often, hints of the glittery luminium threading through the stone.
“Why don’t we just follow the path until we hit the bottom, and I’ll find some places to take samples once we’re closer to the workers?” Kiva finally said.
Naari started down the slope, her steps confident, while Kiva picked her way more carefully.
It was wide enough to fit a cart, but all she had to do was twist her ankle on a loose stone and she’d be in real trouble.
Unlike Naari, Kiva was neither athletic nor strong, life as a prisoner failing to provide much in the way of fitness.
The laborers were the exception; being forced to work under such grueling conditions meant they couldn’t not be fit.
It was that or die. And they almost always died anyway.
Just like Jaren would.
Kiva pushed away the thought. She’d known from the moment she’d met him that he’d be allocated a labor job, and it would lead to his death. There was nothing they could do about it, and there was no point in dwelling on it. Zalindov was cruel—it always had been, and it always would be.