Chapter Thirty-One #5
“Good,” she said, with a perfunctory nod, as if her heart weren’t still pumping triple time. “Now, what were you saying before? About Rooke making a mistake sending you down here?”
“Ah, that,” Jaren said, rubbing his jaw and looking uncomfortable, but Kiva knew it wasn’t because of the moment they’d just shared.
He didn’t seem to have any problem showering her with affection.
But then again, he was a prince. He was probably used to women falling at his feet.
She wrinkled her nose at the thought, and it distracted him enough that he deviated from what he’d been about to say, instead asking, “What was that look for?”
Kiva wasn’t about to admit what she’d been thinking, so she thought quickly and said, “I just realized I don’t know what to call you. Jaren? Deverick? I’m unsure of the protocol here.”
This time, it was Jaren who wrinkled his nose. “I hate the name Deverick. I always have. My middle name is Jaren—that’s what my friends and family call me.” Pointedly, he said, “That’s what you call me, too.”
“Not Prince Jaren?” Kiva asked.
“No, just Jaren.”
“What about Your Highness?”
He pulled a face. “Definitely not.”
“Your Grace?”
“I’m not a duke.”
“Your Excellency?”
“Nor a lord.”
“Your Majesty?”
“Please stop.”
Kiva couldn’t believe she was holding back a laugh, after everything they’d just been through. But the look on his face ...
“Fine, I’ll stop,” she agreed. “But only because I wouldn’t want you to throw me in prison.” She tapped a finger to her lip. “Oh, wait.”
“You’re hilarious,” Jaren deadpanned, but there was a renewed light in his eyes, and seeing it eased something within her.
“For the record, I’ve never sent anyone to prison.
And after being here myself ...” He shuddered.
“I never intend to. At least, not until this place has undergone some considerable restructuring. Things have to change.” In a quiet voice, as if making a promise to himself, he said, “Things will change.”
Kiva wanted to believe him. She really did. But he wouldn’t be able to follow through on any of his good intentions from the middle of the tunnel labyrinth.
“How about you start refining your prison takeover after we find a way out of here,” she said.
“Right,” Jaren agreed. “That’s what I was about to tell you—why Rooke made a mistake.”
“I’m listening,” Kiva said. She noticed that Jaren was beginning to sway again, so she made a decision, sliding up beside him and carefully wrapping her arm around his waist. She knew it would hurt him, but there was no way they’d be getting out of the tunnels at all if she didn’t help him walk.
“I hope it goes without saying that most of what I’ve told you today has to remain a secret,” Jaren said.
“I figured,” Kiva said, barely refraining from rolling her eyes.
Jaren paused for a long moment, as if deliberating what he was about to share. Finally, he said, “I broke your trust, so hopefully this will give you a reason to believe in me again. It’s something only a handful of people in the world know.”
Kiva’s ears pricked up, and she glanced at his face as he wrapped his arm more securely around her shoulders.
“Mirryn is a year older than me,” he said. “She should have been the heir, the crown princess, but then I came along.”
“Firstborn son gets the rights,” Kiva muttered. “Typical.”
“Actually, it’s not,” Jaren said. “Our ancestor, Queen Sarana, she ruled alone—after King Torvin left, I mean. Later in life, Sarana had a daughter, who went on to rule when she died. Then that daughter had a daughter, who had a daughter, and so it went, all down the line. A few princes rose to be kings if they happened to be the eldest siblings, but for the most part, Vallentis mothers tend to bear daughters as their firstborns.”
Kiva’s forehead crinkled. “Then why ...”
“This is the part few people outside of my family know,” Jaren said, his tone serious enough for Kiva to realize how much he was trusting her right now.
When she held his gaze, offering her own silent promise in return, he looked away from her, sending his floating fire ahead, where it stopped at a three-pronged fork in the tunnel, lighting it up.
A hollow feeling hit Kiva as she suddenly understood just how dire their situation was.
This was the Trial by Earth—they’d been dropped deep beneath Zalindov prison, in the labyrinth of a tunnel system.
It extended for miles in every direction, an unending maze that not even the guards could fully navigate.
Some passages turned into dead ends, others were submerged and headed to the aquifer, and still more continued on seemingly forever.
Without Jaren’s fire, they’d be blind down here.
Perhaps that was what Rooke was counting on, his assumption that they’d be unable to see anything, left to feel their way through the darkness until dehydration, exhaustion, and starvation killed them.
No wonder the Warden had been so gleeful with his parting remark. What a hideous way to die.
But, while Jaren’s flames at least gave them light to see by, it didn’t help them get out of the tunnels. They were still lost; they still had no means to escape.
Perspiration began to bead on Kiva’s brow as a sudden, intense feeling of claustrophobia took hold of her. It wasn’t uncommon for tunnel sections to cave in, killing scores of prisoners in an instant. Something like that could just as easily happen to her and Jaren.
“Kiva?” came Jaren’s voice, his arm squeezing her shoulder.
She blinked and looked up at him again, seeing the concern on his face and realizing that he’d been talking to her for some time.
“Sorry, what?” she asked, and even she could hear the fear threading her tone.
Understanding filled his expression, and he squeezed her again, this time in comfort.
“I was just saying, we need to go that way.” He used his free hand to point to the left fork. “About twenty minutes of walking, and we’ll be out, with plenty of time to spare.”
Kiva looked at the passage, then back to Jaren. “How do you know?”
“Because I can feel it.”
“You can—”
Kiva cut herself off when she saw what Jaren was doing, using the same free hand to point at the ground.
Before her eyes, the earth shifted, and out of the limestone came a green stem, leaves and thorns appearing on it, the end budding and flowering into the most perfect snowblossom Kiva had ever seen.
But that wasn’t all.
More of the earth cleared away around the base of the blossom, easing backwards, and seconds later, a small moat appeared, filling swiftly with water.
Kiva stared at the display. Stared and stared and stared as realization hit her.
Jaren couldn’t just harness air and fire.
He could also control earth and water.
All four of the elements.
No one had claimed such power since Queen Sarana herself.
“Now you know all of my secrets,” Jaren said, his voice quiet. “And that’s why the Royal Council chose to name me as heir, not Mirryn.”
Kiva’s breaths sounded loud to her ears. She wasn’t sure how to process what she’d just learned, the magnitude of what he’d just shared. But she could feel how tense Jaren was beside her, his body locked as if afraid of her reaction, so she forced herself to relax and said, “So, we go left?”
Air rushed out of Jaren, a relieved, almost disbelieving laugh. “Yeah,” he said. “We go left.”
As if he couldn’t help himself, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to her temple—his unspoken gratitude for her not making a big deal out of what was most definitely a big deal.
“Twenty minutes, huh?” Kiva said, still trying to remain as calm as possible on the outside while inside she was reeling. “I’m looking forward to seeing Rooke’s face when he realizes we’re alive.”
“ I’m looking forward to seeing his face when he has to let you go free,” Jaren said, as they slowly began to walk in the direction of the bobbing firelight.
“That too,” Kiva said, unable to keep the wonder from her voice. As far as the Trials went, this one was the easiest— by far —but only because of Jaren. Without him and his elemental magic sniffing out the exit, Kiva would have met her death in these tunnels. She was sure of it.
Jaren hesitated for a moment, but then, as they turned down the left fork and continued on, the fire floating before them, he warily said, “Tilda will be freed with you.”
Kiva understood how this was a problem for him.
Frankly, she was still amazed that he’d saved her in all of the Ordeals, when it meant he was also saving his mortal enemy.
A strange, tingling sensation blossomed within her, but she stamped it down.
Now was not the time. She still had so much to think about, so much to reconcile.
“She’s really sick, Jaren,” Kiva said. “Rebel Queen or not, she’s hardly a threat.”
“For now,” he returned. “But if she gets better—”
“That’s a problem for another day,” Kiva said firmly.
Jaren’s tension didn’t fade, and Kiva couldn’t blame him, knowing who he was, and who Tilda was to him. She grappled for a compromise, something that would get Tilda out of Zalindov, but also neutralize the danger he feared her to be.
“You could take her back to Vallenia with you,” Kiva said, though it cost her.
“Your royal healers would be able to do so much more for her than anyone else. And if she recovers, then you might still be able to get the answers you came here for. You could find out what the rebels are planning, even ask why she was in Mirraven to begin with. She’d be free of Zalindov, but safe in your custody. ”
Kiva wasn’t sure if she’d ever hated herself more. But this way, Tilda stood a chance at getting better—a good chance, since the royal healers were renowned for their skills. The only problem was, it would leave the Rebel Queen in the hands of her enemies.
But at least she would be alive.
To Kiva, that was what mattered the most. She hadn’t risked her life over and over just so Tilda could die.
“That’s not a bad idea,” Jaren admitted.
“But if it doesn’t work out”—Kiva braced herself, certain he was about to mete out Tilda’s execution sentence right then and there—“the most important thing is that you’re free, even if it means she is, too.
” Jaren’s thumb stroked her shoulder. “We’ll deal with the consequences later. ”
If Kiva hadn’t been bearing most of his weight, she might have collapsed into a heap at the significance of his words. He was willing to let the Rebel Queen walk free just so that she could, too? That was ... that was ...
It was outrageous.
It was unbelievable.
And it filled Kiva with warmth from head to toe.
But then she had another thought, and while she didn’t want to push her luck, she couldn’t keep from asking, “You know how you’re a prince?”
Jaren chuckled, his body moving against hers as they turned down another passageway lit by his flames. “I’m aware.”
“Well ...” Kiva bit her lip, not even sure how to ask.
“The answer is yes, Kiva.”
She shuffled the two of them around a large slab of limestone in the path before saying, “What answer?”
“I assume you’re trying to ask me about Tipp,” Jaren guessed, correctly. “There’s no way I’m letting him stay in here. Once you’re free, he’s free. I’ll make it happen.”
Tears filled Kiva’s eyes, and she didn’t try to hide them when Jaren turned to look at her.
“Thank you,” she said, with obvious feeling.
While she’d already spoken with the Warden about becoming Tipp’s guardian if she survived the Trials, after all she’d since learned about Rooke, she feared he might renege on their deal just to spite her.
Now, at least, she had the backing of the crown prince. Tipp would finally be free.
Jaren sent her a soft smile in return, before his face turned serious. “I don’t know if you have anyone out there waiting for you. Either of you. But I was thinking—I mean, I was hoping—” He stopped and tried again. “If you want to, I would really love to show you Vallenia. Both you and Tipp.”
For the second time in the space of minutes, Kiva nearly crumpled.
Stay alive.
Don’t let her die.
We are coming.
“You want us to come with you?” she choked out. “Back to the capital?”
“We’d have to stop at the winter palace first,” Jaren said, “just for a fortnight or so, until the spring thaws set in and make travel easier. But then, yes. Back to the city.”
“And we’d live with you, at the castle?”
Jaren nodded. “I was thinking you might want to take a class or two at the academy, continue honing your craft.”
The healer academy. Kiva couldn’t believe what Jaren was offering, the golden plate he was holding before her.
“And Tipp’s around the same age as Oriel,” he continued. “My brother can be a little terror, but he has a good heart. I think they’d get on really well. Plus, Ori would help Tipp with his studies, which I’m guessing might need some catching up.”
More tears filled Kiva’s eyes at the dream he was laying out. At the possibilities she could see so clearly in her mind’s eye.
But ... her family ...
We are coming.
They hadn’t come for her, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t go to them. Her brother had written her, told her where they were. His implication had been clear: they were waiting.
For ten years, she’d longed to be with them again. But now that she might finally be free to do so ...
Kiva didn’t know what she wanted anymore. She couldn’t deny that they’d hurt her, disappointed her, for a decade. They’d promised to come, but they hadn’t, not even after her father had died. She’d been alone, left to fend for herself, to survive more horrors than they would ever know.
And yet ... they were still her family.
She loved them.
Just as she knew they loved her.
“Don’t answer now,” Jaren said quickly, cutting into her thoughts. “Just— Just think about it, all right?”
Kiva could only nod. And then when Jaren indicated for her to turn right, she did so, helping him hobble down the long, dark tunnel, having no idea where it would end, but certain that whatever was around the corner would change her life forever.
Kiva had been right about the coming change.
But not in the way she’d anticipated.
It was Jaren who realized much sooner than she did; Jaren who noticed that there were no workers in the tunnels, no prisoners digging away to extend them, to find more water.
The labyrinth was empty.
And when his earth magic finally guided them to the ladder chute and they painstakingly climbed to the surface, it became clear that Kiva’s success over the Trials was to be put on hold.
There was no one waiting for them.
No Rooke, no Naari, no guards at all.
Only screams.