The Prison Healer (The Prison Healer #1)(109)



Kiva didn’t want to hear any more. Once, she had. She’d been curious about Jaren’s arrival, why the two men with him had turned up dead and he’d been covered in their blood. But now, she didn’t care. She didn’t want to see him again, let alone speak to him. To hell with his explanations. Any of them. “He didn’t know about the poison,” Naari said, quieter. “I promise—he was just as horrified as you when I told him about the vials and the Warden a few days ago. I was telling the truth before. Rooke is acting on his own, without permission from the Vallentis family. They’ll stop him as soon as word reaches them. I swear it.”

The poison was the furthest thing from Kiva’s mind right now. It was all she could do to breathe past the screaming betrayal, her heart simultaneously breaking and burning, hurt and fury fighting for dominance.

The slightest of noises echoed through the small crack in the door, and Naari hissed out another curse.

“That’s my warning. The guards are changing shifts, I have to go.” She stood to her feet, the luminium beacon flickering shadows across the stone.

Kiva scrambled up after her. Despite everything she’d just learned, she didn’t want Naari to go, leaving her to face the darkness again.

She wanted to hate the guard, to rail at her for lying the whole time they’d known each other. But Naari was only acting upon orders given to her, keeping? Jaren’s—Prince Deverick’s—secrets. To Kiva, the guard had been nothing but respectful, kind, protective. She’d become her friend, remaining by her side and holding her together—sometimes literally, in the case of the Trials. As much as she wished she could, Kiva couldn’t muster the bitterness needed to resent her, not when all those feelings were directed toward the crown prince. She had no room left to be mad at anyone else.

“I know it’s a lot,” Naari said urgently, dimming the luminium beacon to its lowest setting, as if fearing someone might see it through the sliver in the doorway. “I know your head must be spinning right now, so please listen to me when I say, everything will be all right. We’ll get Rooke to stop using the poison. And Jaren will explain everything else. Just . . . try to keep an open mind until you’ve spoken with him. You have a right to be angry, but don’t let that stop you from forgiving him. He did what he did for the right reasons.”

That was all well and good for Naari to say, but she didn’t know what Kiva knew, didn’t know about her family, her history. Kiva couldn’t keep an open mind, knowing what she did. And forgiveness? Impossible.

“One last thing,” Naari said, and something about her voice had Kiva curling in on herself, as if expecting a blow. Another one. “You still have to face your final Ordeal. But . . .”

“But what?” Kiva croaked.

“But they’re keeping you in here until then.”

No.

The final Trial was still eight days away. Kiva had barely survived the last six locked in the Abyss. But eight more . . .

“I’ll come back if I can,” Naari said. “I got lucky this time, called in a favor, but I’m not sure if . . .” She trailed off, unwilling to make a promise she couldn’t keep. Instead, she reached out to squeeze Kiva’s shoulder, and this time, Kiva didn’t recoil, needing the comfort of human touch.

“I’ll see you soon,” the guard said firmly, before she slipped out the door, the thick stone sealing behind her.

Only when all traces of light were gone did Kiva sink down to her knees, adrift in a sea of darkness, alone but for her screaming mind and aching heart.





SATURDAY





SUNDAY





MONDAY





TUESDAY





WEDNESDAY





THURSDAY





FRIDAY





SATUR—



Light, blinding light, flooded Kiva’s eyes, breaking into the darkness that had consumed her for what felt like eternity, as a harsh voice barked, “Get up, it’s time to go.”

And she knew the time for her final Ordeal had come.





Chapter Thirty-One


Kiva could barely see as the Butcher dragged her up the stairs and along the stone hallway, her eyes having become so accustomed to the dark that she was squinting even in the low light of the dimmed luminium beacons.

For eight days, she’d spoken to no one, alone in her isolation. When Naari had left, she’d feared she wouldn’t survive, but knowing there was an end date, that someone would eventually come to take her to the Trial, it had helped, if slightly. She was careful to keep drinking the foul water, to keep eating the food that was delivered sporadically, knowing that she would need her strength to get through what came next.

The Trial by Earth was her final test. Today would decide whether she lived or died, whether she was to be set free or executed. Tilda, too, since her life—or death—was tied to Kiva’s.

For eight days, that was what she had been left thinking about: what she might face in the Trial and how it might end, fully aware that she was spending what could be her last hours alone in a dark, smelly cell.

But that wasn’t all she’d been dwelling on. Thoughts of the poison, Rooke, and Jaren had possessed her mind. Jaren, especially. She’d come to realize that there was nothing left that she could do about the Warden and his nefarious actions; she had to trust that Naari would handle it, as she’d sworn she would. Kiva also had to believe the Warden would adhere to the law and release her, should she survive the final Trial, even with the knowledge she now possessed. He had killed her father and murdered hundreds of innocents, both now and nine years earlier. She was determined he would pay for his crimes, even if it was out of her hands—for now.

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