Chapter Twenty-Five
“If you d-don’t go, I’ll push you out the d-d-door myself.”
Kiva pulled a face at Tipp, the young boy standing with his hands on his hips beside the rat pen, staring at her like a disgruntled puppy.
It was three days since she’d found him passed out in the garden.
The first day had been hell, with her certain he would soon be heading to the morgue.
But after his fever broke late that night, he’d improved dramatically, and it had been a struggle to keep him resting as what remained of the short-term bug he’d caught left his body.
The only way she’d managed to keep him in bed was by promising to test the samples she’d collected the day he’d fallen ill, having put them aside to care for him.
She’d completed her tests yesterday under his watchful eye, the two of them alone in the infirmary, with Jaren having gone back to the tunnels and Naari accompanying him to smooth out any wrinkles caused by his absence.
Kiva was beyond the point of questioning the guard’s motives, and was now just grateful for the unexpected ally she’d become—for all of them.
But today ... since the most recent tests had failed yet again, Naari had arrived at the infirmary early that morning, reminding Kiva that she still had more samples to collect.
And despite Kiva’s protests that she needed to remain with Tipp in case of a relapse, the young boy refused to allow her to stay behind and coddle him for another day.
“Your n-next Ordeal is tomorrow, Kiva,” Tipp said. “You need to t-test the aquifer and the t-tunnels so that you’re done. I’m fine, so stop w-worrying and just go .” He pointed to the door, as if doing so would help convince her.
“Don’t worry, sweets, I’ll keep an eye on him,” Olisha said, having arrived with Nergal to cover the day shift.
The offer was meant to reassure Kiva, but the last time Olisha had watched over Tipp, he’d collapsed out in the freezing cold, entirely forgotten. As such, Kiva didn’t have much confidence in the woman’s ability to monitor him.
Tipp sighed and said, “I w-won’t leave the infirmary, I promise. Not even if there’s a f-fire.”
Kiva frowned. “Please do leave if there’s a fire.”
“Fine, b-but aside from that, I won’t move. I’ll keep B-Boots away from the rats, and I’ll m-make sure Tilda eats something. I’ll even t-try and get Nergal to d-do some work.”
The man in question made a harrumph sound and proceeded to clean his fingernails, while Olisha sniggered at his side.
“How about you take a nap,” Kiva suggested instead. “Sleep is good for you.”
“I’ve b-been sleeping for days, ” Tipp complained. “I’m all b-better, Kiva.” He held his hands out to the sides. “Fit as a f-f-fiddle.”
It was true that Tipp had made an amazing recovery, to the point that it was almost impossible to believe that she’d feared he was on his deathbed only a few days earlier. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t struggling with the all-consuming terror she’d experienced at the thought of losing him.
“If you feel even the slightest bit unwell—”
“I’ll have someone c-come and get you,” Tipp said, rolling his eyes. “I know, I know.”
Kiva ignored the eye roll and stepped closer, pulling him into a tight hug. He froze in her arms, before his hands came around her and he hugged her back.
“This is n-nice,” he said, his words muffled by her tunic. “We should d-do this more often.”
Kiva laughed and pushed him away, pointing a finger toward the bed he’d used since falling ill. “Rest. I mean it.”
He rolled his eyes a second time, but he trudged obediently to the bed and sat down. How long he’d stay there, Kiva didn’t know, but she trusted that he wouldn’t break his word and leave the infirmary while she was gone.
“I’ll be back as soon as possible,” Kiva told Olisha and Nergal, the former nodding in reply and the latter giving an uncaring lift of his shoulders.
Kiva hurried over to where Naari was waiting at the door, following the guard out into the crisp morning and toward the center of the prison grounds.
“You’re testing the water today?” Naari asked.
“That’s really all that’s left,” Kiva said. “That, and the tunnels.”
“We’re heading there as well?”
Kiva nodded. “Everything left is underground, so we might as well check a few of the passageways straight after the aquifer and the pumping station. Then we’ll be done.”
“Done?” Naari repeated. “As in, done-done?”
“Unless you can think of somewhere else that should be tested,” Kiva said, “then yes, done-done.”
Neither of them said what they were both thinking—that everything was riding on today’s samples. If the rats didn’t show any symptoms by tomorrow, then her attempt at finding the origin of the illness would have failed.
“Don’t think about it,” Naari said, reading Kiva’s mind. “Water can host all kinds of bacteria. I’m sure you’ll find something today.”
Kiva appreciated her confidence, and was about to say as much, when an angry voice yelled her name.
They were halfway across the open space between the infirmary and the domed building at the center of the prison, where the ground was muddy, the grass patchy and mostly dead.
There was little else nearby, the closest building being a watchtower, which was why Kiva was surprised to turn and see Cresta marching in their direction, the woman’s hands clenched into fists by her sides.
“Where the hell do you think you’re going?”
Kiva’s brows rose. “Excuse me?”
Cresta came to a stop in front of Kiva, pointing a finger straight at her face. Naari edged closer, but didn’t interfere.
“My friends are sick and dying,” Cresta said, moving her finger back toward the infirmary. “And you’re out here doing—what? What’re you doing, healer? ’Cause you damn well aren’t making them any better.”
At first, Kiva was relieved, having feared Cresta had approached to remind her that Tilda needed to stay alive, and Tipp’s life would be forfeited if Kiva failed tomorrow’s task.
Never mind that Kiva’s life would also be forfeited.
They were all linked now; Cresta had no need to continue threatening her.
But then Kiva processed what the irate woman had said, and a heavy feeling hit her stomach.
This wasn’t about protecting the Rebel Queen at all.
This was about something beyond one person, beyond any of them, rebels included.
“Cresta ...”
“Don’t you ‘Cresta’ me,” the young woman spat, her expression so livid that her serpent tattoo looked like it would rise out of her face and strike at Kiva.
“You want to know what just happened? Tykon dropped like a slab of luminium halfway to the quarry, couldn’t get up again.
Shaking, puking everywhere. Harlow let me drag him back, but only so he could follow and stare at my ass the whole way, the perverted fu—”
“Where’s Tykon now?” Kiva interrupted, cringing at the thought of the repugnant quarry master.
Cresta pointed toward the infirmary again. “He’s where you should be. But you’re not . Because you’re here .” She slammed her finger toward the earth, silently demanding an answer.
“I’m ... working to fix it,” Kiva said cautiously.
“To fix what? ” Cresta shoved her matted red hair over her shoulder. “This stomach virus?”
“Yes,” Kiva said, not offering any more, and wondering when Naari was going to step in and stop this.
Cresta’s eyes narrowed. “You’re lying.”
Kiva raised her hands. “I’m not. Why do you think I was at the quarry? I was collecting samples for testing, just like I am today.” She patted the bag on her shoulder.
“That was over a fortnight ago,” Cresta exclaimed. “More and more people are dying every day. Hell, everyone who comes to see you for the smallest thing ends up getting sick—explain that, healer! Are you telling me you’re still trying to figure out why?? ”
Kiva didn’t have a response, unsure what she was allowed to say, especially to someone as volatile as Cresta.
If the rebel leader used this to stir up more dissent among the prisoners, if she tried to create a panic .
.. Things were already brewing too close to the surface, with whispers circulating about what had happened nine years earlier, the same spreading sickness, the same mass deaths.
The murmurs were growing, the fears deepening.
If something didn’t calm the inmates soon . ..
“I think you should be getting back to the quarry now,” Naari said, clearly thinking along the same lines. “Where’s Harlow?”
“Where do you think?” Cresta asked, one hand on her hip. “He’s in the kitchens, stealing from our rations. Like you lot don’t get enough of our food as it is.” Her face darkened. “He’s probably getting handsy with the workers there at the same time, so trust me, he’ll be in no rush to leave.”
Naari’s expression tightened, her eyes blazing as she turned to Kiva. “I’ll meet you at the tunnel entrance. Don’t go down without me.” To Cresta, Naari said, “Come with me.”
And without another word, she strode off in the direction of the kitchens, not waiting to see if Cresta would obey.
“If she weren’t a guard, I think I’d like her,” the angry woman mused. But then she remembered who she was standing with, and she sneered at Kiva. “Fix this, healer whore. Before we all die. Our blood is on your hands.”
With that parting line, she turned and began marching away.
“Wait!” Kiva called.
Cresta paused, glancing back over her shoulder. “What?”
Aware that she had mere seconds before Naari became suspicious of the delay, Kiva closed the distance between them and whispered, “Have you heard anything? About Tilda? About another rescue attempt?”
Cresta’s features were like granite as she forced out a single word. “No.”
Kiva’s shoulders slumped, even if she’d already assumed as much. “What does that mean?”
“It means we wait,” Cresta said. “And you do what you’re supposed to—keep her alive until the time comes.”
With a sharp, warning look, Cresta took off again, leaving Kiva alone.