Poison's Kiss (Poison's Kiss #1)(59)

“Wait,” I say. He pauses but doesn’t look at me. “Could you give me any information about my brother?” He shakes his head slightly and starts to move away.

“Please,” I say. “You were in that room yesterday. I know you heard everything. He’s only a little boy.” The guard keeps moving down the corridor, sliding trays to prisoners. I’m the only one even attempting conversation. “Could you tell me if anyone has left yet for the Snake Temple?” I shout. “Is Deven still here in the palace?” Only silence as an answer.

The guard finishes distributing the trays, and as he passes my cell again, I try one more time. “Please, tell me something.” He pauses and turns his face toward me, his expression conflicted.

For a moment I think he will answer me, but then he looks away. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. My stomach pitches forward. Sorry for what? Sorry that he can’t tell me? Or sorry that the Raja tried but couldn’t save Mani? But I don’t have a chance to ask because he’s already gone.

I sink to my knees, but I have no tears left to cry. Mani will be fed to the Nagaraja in less than two days and I’m trapped here. I want to believe that Deven will help him, but the image of Deven’s stunned face as the guards placed the manacles around my wrists haunts me. He did nothing to help me. What if he does nothing to help Mani?

I scoot forward and shake the bars of my cell, but they are solid. The guards didn’t take my boots, though, and maybe with enough effort…I sit down and press my feet to the bars and push as hard as I can. They don’t budge. I kick at them until sweat trickles down my back.

“Are you finished?” It’s a small voice and it sounds so much like Mani that I leap to my feet. Maybe they’ve already rescued him. Maybe they brought him here last night and I never noticed. I press my face to the bars of the neighboring cell. But the eyes staring back at me aren’t Mani’s. This boy is a few years older, his hair is a shade darker, and his eyes have a haunted look. “Are you finished?” he asks again.

“I—yes, I guess I am,” I say. “I’m sorry if I scared you.”

“No, not finished with your tantrum,” the boy says. “Finished with your breakfast. I’m still a bit hungry.”

“Oh.” I look over at my tray. I don’t think I could eat right now even if I wanted to. I scoop up the loaf of bread and pass it through the bars. “I’m afraid it’s a little soggy,” I tell him.

“S’okay,” he answers through a mouthful of bread. I wait until he’s swallowed and then pass him what’s left of the water.

“What is such a little boy doing in a dungeon?” I ask. He looks offended and I feel a pang in my chest. He reminds me so much of Mani. “Sorry. Young man,” I correct myself. “What’s a young man doing here?”

He shrugs and takes another bite. “In trouble for telling the truth,” he says. “How about you?”

“Same.”

I sit down with my shoulders against the bars, and the boy mimics me. We sit like that for a long time—him finishing his bread, me berating myself for not being a better sister, a better person.

“What’s your name?” I ask him finally.

“Kavi,” he says. Kavi. Mani. They aren’t so different. My throat aches.

“What’s your name?” he asks.

“Marinda.”

I look over at my tray and the porridge still sitting there untouched. I can’t fit the bowl between the bars, but we could pass the spoon back and forth. “Are you still hungry?” I ask. “I have some porridge.”

“Nah,” Kavi says. “I’m okay. But I feel like I should give you something in return for the bread.”

I laugh. “And what could you possibly have to give me?”

He turns and looks at me earnestly. “I could give you some wisdom.”

My blood runs cold and I scoot away from the bars. “I know you,” I say. “I saw you on Gali Street.” He was the boy selling wisdom, the boy Mani thought could give us hope.

“I saw you too,” he says. He shakes his head sadly. “But it looks like you didn’t listen to me.” The hair on the back of my neck prickles to life.

“Stop,” I say. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“You shared your bread with me,” he says. “That tells me a lot. And you love your brother. That tells me something too.”

And I kill people. What does that say about me, you strange little child?

“You really look like you could use some wisdom,” Kavi says.

“Stop talking,” I say. “Just leave me alone.” I don’t know what it is about this boy that unsettles me so much.

He just shrugs. “Let me know if you change your mind.”

I snatch the blanket from the floor and retreat to the far side of my cell, where I lie down and pull the blanket over my head. Water continues to drip from the ceiling, so I have to smash myself against the wall to stay dry. It’s an uncomfortable position, but not as uncomfortable as being turned inside out by a little boy who talks too much.



I attempt to sleep away the rest of the day, and from what little I can see, most of the other prisoners do the same. There isn’t anything else to pass the time.