The Prison Healer (The Prison Healer #1)(100)

Kiva looked at Rooke, then back at the guard. “Yes.”

“I told you, it needs to be tight,” Rooke growled, oblivious to Naari’s true question and Kiva’s answer.

The Warden grabbed Kiva’s shoulder and pointed to the boulder, indicating for her to pick it up. When she did, uttering a quiet “oof?” at the solid weight of it in her hands, he seized the other end of the rope and shuffled her toward the edge of the cliff. A sound similar to a collective indrawn breath came from the audience above.

“I’m not sure how deep this is,” Rooke said, scratching his short beard as he looked down at the water. “Guess you’ll have to find out for yourself.” His voice lowered so that only she could hear, the smallest hint of empathy in his tone, but Kiva knew better than to believe it was for her—he was just worried about losing his best healer. “This is the part where you hold your breath. Ready?”

No. Kiva wasn’t ready. She would never be ready. But she didn’t have a choice, so she quickly called to mind everything she knew about lung capacity and controlled breathing, and slowly began to hyperventilate. She knew doing so could reduce her blood pressure enough to cause hypoxic blackout, but if she couldn’t expand her lungs before entering the water, she was going to fall unconscious soon enough anyway. She had to do everything she could to give herself a fighting chance. If free-divers could do it, maybe she could, too. She had to at least hope there was a possibility of success, otherwise she might as well give up now.

“On three,” Rooke said.

Kiva focused on her breathing, vaguely aware of Naari stepping up beside her, the guard trembling slightly—whether from what Kiva was about to face, or the poison reveal, Kiva wasn’t sure. She didn’t have any room left in her to be afraid, couldn’t spare the oxygen required to feed her anxiety. All she could do was breathe.

“One,” Rooke said.

Kiva inhaled. Exhaled. Inhaled. Exhaled.

“Two.”

This was it.

Kiva filled her lungs, sucking in more and more air, her diaphragm extending to the point that it was painful, lightheadedness making her vision spin.

“Three.”

The Warden shoved Kiva from behind, and she struggled to keep her mouth closed on the air she’d so carefully trapped, every part of her wanting to scream as she plummeted down the side of the cliff face and—

Splash!

Into the water.

The shock of it had her dropping the boulder, her hands rising to cover her mouth, her nose, as she was pulled under, under, under. She could barely process the pain of her body slapping into the surface, the height of her fall nearly forcing the breath from her. But she didn’t yield it, nor did she release anything but the smallest of bubbles as she descended down into the quarry depths, the turquoise water turning darker the lower she was pulled, the sun struggling to penetrate this deep.

Kiva felt as if her ears were bleeding, the pressure of her swift descent like daggers stabbing into her brain. And the cold—the cold.

She hadn’t noticed in those first few seconds, adrenaline and pain from her brutal landing driving away all thoughts other than to keep holding her breath, but as that shock faded, a different kind of shock set in.

The water was like ice.

Fifteen minutes—it was too long, too deep, too cold.

A hollow echo sounded, and Kiva jolted to a stop, the boulder having finally thudded against the bottom of the quarry, or perhaps some fortunately placed outcropping that kept her from sinking further.

It didn’t matter. She was still too far down, the water around her dark enough that she struggled to see anything but blurry, distorted shapes. No one watching from above would be able to see anything, with tons and tons of water blocking their vision of her.

Cold—she was so cold.

Kiva released another few bubbles, her lungs already begging for fresh air. She drew her arms in and hugged herself, as if doing so would help retain her body heat, but it was useless. The frozen water was piercing straight into her flesh, into her bones. Her extremities were already beginning to turn numb, all of her blood rushing inward to protect her vital organs, her heart, her brain. Perhaps Mot’s potion was helping her, but it wasn’t enough.

Her body buckled, like she was coughing, but still she didn’t release more than a few bubbles, knowing she couldn’t let more go, with nothing for her to inhale.

Fifteen minutes.

She had no idea how many had already passed. No idea how many she had left.

No idea how she was going to last much longer.

She couldn’t feel her fingers. Couldn’t feel her toes. She felt like she was burning, the cold so biting that her nerves were on fire.

Breathe! her body screamed at her. BREATHE.

She couldn’t.

There was no air.

There was no air.

Kiva buckled again, suffocation beginning to forfeit her control. This time she couldn’t stop the stream of air that fled her lungs, nor her natural reaction to try and inhale more.

No.

No.

She was choking now, water flooding down her windpipe in place of oxygen.

Coughing and choking and coughing and choking, water filling her lungs, filling her stomach as she accidentally swallowed it, all of the air that she’d carefully guarded now gone.

The numbness was spreading, her arms and legs like senseless weights.