Chapter Twenty-Three
Kiva spent the rest of Saturday and the entirety of Sunday in bed, following orders from Mot, Tipp, Jaren, and Naari.
By the time Monday rolled around, she was going stir crazy.
Her desperation to continue researching the stomach sickness—the illness her father died from—had her up at the crack of dawn, waiting anxiously for her escort’s arrival.
Naari took her sweet time, and when she finally appeared at the entrance to the infirmary, Kiva shot out the door.
“Come on, come on, we have so much to do,” she said as she began walking briskly toward the front gates.
Naari chuckled. “Someone’s been cooped up for too long.”
“It was unnecessary,” Kiva said, sidestepping to avoid a puddle on the gravel. “I was perfectly fine yesterday.”
The guard’s reply was dry. “Yes, you were the picture of health when you got out of bed and fell flat on your face.”
“I was fine after that.”
“Admit it, you just wanted Jaren’s arms around you again.”
Kiva’s head whipped around so fast that she stumbled on the path. Sending a glare to the grinning Naari, she said, “That’s not what happened.”
“I was there,” the guard said, her grin widening. “He was very quick to catch you—and very slow to release you.”
Kiva grated her teeth together. “I think we should go back to walking in silence.”
Naari laughed, genuine amusement flooding her features. “Too late, healer. You’re not afraid of me anymore. That ship has sailed.”
“I was never afraid of you,” Kiva lied.
Naari snorted her disbelief.
“You’re a guard, ” Kiva conceded, throwing her hands out to the sides. “You’re meant to incite some level of intimidation. That’s the whole point of your job.”
“Guess I just wasn’t born to work in a place like Zalindov,” Naari mused.
The words prompted an icy feeling to spread throughout Kiva.
Naari had already been at the prison much longer than most of the other female guards over the years.
And while Kiva had acknowledged that her limb difference would make it harder for her to get a protective role elsewhere, that didn’t mean it was impossible. But the idea of her leaving ...
“At least you wouldn’t have to worry about catching your death somewhere else,” Kiva made herself say, ignoring the dread filling her. “I’m surprised you didn’t ride the first wagon out of here once we realized the sickness was spreading.”
Naari made a pensive sound, but then said, “I’ve never been one to leave when things get tough.” She lifted her prosthetic hand and wiggled her fingers at Kiva. “What kind of person would that make me?”
Kiva didn’t respond, though she did feel as if a weight had lifted off her chest. At the same time, she was alarmed, since the fact that she feared Naari leaving meant she’d grown closer to the guard than was wise.
But she also had no idea how to reverse that, how to put a stopper in the friendship that had somehow formed between them.
Worse, she didn’t know if she wanted to. And therein lay the real danger.
It wasn’t surprising that, in her desperation to believe her family was coming for her, she’d latched on to another source of comfort, of familiarity.
Her family—and the rebels—had let her down by not arriving before the second Trial.
That didn’t mean they weren’t still out there, strategizing another plan to free both Kiva and Tilda, but Kiva couldn’t ignore the resentment brewing within her, the sense of abandonment that had been creeping in for ten years.
She still loved her family, of course she did.
But she couldn’t deny how disappointed she felt—and had felt, for a decade.
Her growing relationship with Naari had helped to cover that, to stifle it deep down.
... And her growing relationship with Jaren, too.
“What’s on today’s agenda?” Naari asked as they passed the barracks and continued along the path.
Grateful for the distraction, Kiva answered, “All the farms—animals, including dairy, as well as vegetables and grains.” She ticked off her fingers as she spoke. “And the slaughterhouse.”
Naari whistled through her teeth. “That’s a lot.”
“We need to catch up, since you all decided to become overprotective nursemaids on me yesterday,” Kiva said pointedly.
She knew they’d meant well, but people were dying .
Just as they had nine years ago. Just as her father had.
She refused to see anyone else she cared about fall victim to this illness.
“If I get enough samples today, I’ll spend tomorrow testing the rats. I think that’s the best way to do it.”
“A day of collecting, followed by a day of testing?”
Kiva nodded. “That way I’ll lessen the risk of missing any symptoms, or confusing any of the test subjects. I’ll narrow the options down place by place until we find the origin.”
“We may get lucky and today will be all you need, if it comes from the farms.”
“That’s the hope,” Kiva said. “The sooner we figure out where it began, the sooner I can look into stopping it.”
“How?”
Heaving her bag of collection flasks higher up on her shoulder, Kiva wondered what her father might have done, but came up empty. “I’m not sure yet. Once I know the origin, that’ll hopefully give me an indication of what’s needed to treat it.”
“What if it doesn’t? What if you can’t figure it out?”
Kiva made herself adopt a light tone as she shrugged and said, “Then we all die, I guess.”
Naari arched an eyebrow, and Kiva caught the expression from her peripheral vision as they walked side by side toward the entrance block.
“Remind me never to come to you for encouragement,” Naari muttered under her breath.
Kiva hid her smile, but then said, “Almost every sickness can be treated. Whether it can be cured is something else entirely. But given the symptoms I’ve seen, I’m confident one can be found for this, whatever it is. I just need more information.”
And her father had just needed more time.
She was sure of it. Faran Meridan was the best healer Kiva had ever known.
He would have figured out how to cure the sickness, eventually.
Perhaps he did, and that was why it ended up vanishing soon after his own death.
But he’d left no research, no instructions.
So now it was up to Kiva to figure it out.
“And what about your next Trial?” Naari asked as they approached the gates. “Have you started thinking about it yet?”
It was hard for Kiva not to think about it. She’d barely survived the Trial by Fire, and that was with magical help. She had no idea what the water Ordeal would require of her, no idea how she might endure it.
“I have twelve days to worry about that,” Kiva answered. “My priority right now is making sure we’re all still alive then.”
Naari sent Kiva a sidelong glance before waving to the guards up in the watchtowers. “Then let’s get you what you need,” she said. “After you, healer.”
And so, for the second time in a week, Kiva stepped outside the prison, praying she’d find what she was searching for.
The rest of Kiva’s week was spent following a pattern that began to repeat itself, to her unending frustration.
After the farms and slaughterhouse, she’d spent the next day as she’d told Naari she would, testing the rats and watching for any signs of change.
When no symptoms presented themselves, Kiva asked Tipp to round up extra vermin, and the following day, she and Naari ventured out of the prison for more samples.
This time, they headed north toward the Blackwood Forest, a trek that took them even longer than their journey to the quarry.
Once there, Kiva collected samples from the lumberyard and even the forest itself, along with the rail carts that transported the timber back through the prison gates and out of Zalindov to Vaskin and beyond.
From wood chippings to tree fungi to flower pollen to fluffy moss, plus the usual stagnant water puddles and mud, Kiva collected anything that might create an ideal viral or bacterial environment.
But when she spent the next day testing the rats, they again showed no signs of illness.
Having completed her collections outside of Zalindov’s walls, Kiva’s attention switched to inside the prison.
On Friday, nearly a week after her fire Ordeal, Kiva headed to the luminium depository, a large rectangular building in the south of the grounds, just inside the gates.
She didn’t need Naari escorting her anymore, since she was within the grounds, but the guard still accompanied her to the storage facility and the adjacent processing factory.
Kiva wasn’t sure if Naari was curious about the research or if she simply wanted to keep spending time with her.
Once or twice, Kiva had inwardly questioned the guard’s motives, even going so far as to wonder if she was somehow aligned with the rebels, watching over Kiva for the sake of Tilda.
Another possibility Kiva entertained was whether Rooke had assigned Naari to protect her—or to spy on her.
But neither option sat right with Kiva, and with little evidence for either, she decided she was better off not worrying about whether Naari was going to stab her in the back, metaphorically speaking. Perhaps literally speaking, too.