The Prison Healer (The Prison Healer #1)(51)
Kiva was staring at her with wide eyes, surprised not only that Naari had been watching her, but also that she knew the names of the other prisoners. Most guards just referred to inmates by their job allocations, their physical descriptions, or, if they were near enough to read them, their identification numbers.
“Why don’t you allow yourself to get close to others?” Naari continued, sounding genuinely curious. “Jaren seems like one of the rare good ones. I think he’d be worth your time.”
“You can hardly judge that based on only thirty-three days of knowing him,” Kiva said. Needing a distraction, she picked up an open flask and began searching for the stopper.
Naari’s eyes sparkled. “So you’ve been counting the days?”
Swearing internally, Kiva only said, “It’s an estimate.”
“‘Thirty’ is an estimate. ‘A month’ is an estimate. ‘A few weeks’ is an estimate.” Naari grinned, her teeth bright against her dark skin. “‘Thirty-three’ is an exact number.”
“You know what?” Kiva said, finding the stopper and shoving it down the lip of the flask harder than was necessary. “I’m actually fine here, if you want to take off.”
Naari laughed. It was a hearty sound, deep and almost raspy. “Why don’t you instead tell me what needs to be done before you can leave, and I’ll help you finish up.”
Kiva’s brain all but short-circuited and she wheezed, “What?”
“I have two hands and two legs,” Naari said. Raising her gloved left hand, she added, “This isn’t just for decoration. Give me a task, and I’ll do it.”
Stunned by the offer, Kiva was unable to respond until Naari prompted, “Come on, healer, I don’t have all night. I want to make it to Vaskin before the innkeeper calls for final drinks.”
Only ten minutes away by horseback, Vaskin was the closest town to Zalindov, so the guards often headed there to blow off steam after their shifts ended. Some even lived there, especially those with families, since the prison barracks were no place for partners and children. While curious whether Naari lived onsite or off, Kiva wasn’t yet comfortable enough to ask such a personal question. Instead, at the daring look the guard sent her, she pushed aside her trepidation and accepted Naari’s offer.
“Fine,” Kiva said, failing to hide her apprehension. But she squared her shoulders and, with more confidence, shared what was left for her to do before Olisha and Nergal arrived. She then watched with continued amazement as Naari gave a nod of understanding and rolled up her sleeves.
And so, the healer and the guard worked side by side into the night, the balance of power between them blurring—and perhaps, as Kiva was beginning to realize, fading entirely.
Chapter Fifteen
Two days later, the morning dawned with the threat of looming rain, but Kiva was determined that nothing was going to stop her from beginning her investigation into the origin of the stomach sickness.
When she’d left Naari the night before last—or rather, when the guard had left her after safely delivering her to her cell block—the amber-eyed woman had again promised to speak with Warden Rooke as soon as possible. And sure enough, upon Kiva’s arrival at the infirmary the next morning, Naari had been waiting, claiming that the Warden had given her leave to escort Kiva through the gates. Unfortunately, an influx of new patients yesterday had taken all of Kiva’s time and attention, but today she’d had the foresight to conscript Olisha and Nergal to swap to the day shift so that she could leave with Naari.
After quickly looking in on the quarantined patients, and checking Tilda—who continued to show a frustrating lack of improvement—for pressure sores, Kiva met Naari at the entrance to the infirmary. The guard looked the same as always in her black leather, with the slight difference being that she carried a small rucksack, and instead of having two swords strapped to her back, she had only one belted to her waist, with a crossbow now slung over her shoulder.
Kiva couldn’t help an internal shiver at the sight of the new weapon, even though it was standard for all guards who left through the gate. While there was still the secondary perimeter fence far beyond the outer work areas, the long-range crossbows were an added deterrent for any prisoners who sought to try their luck at escape. Kiva wasn’t stupid—she knew she had no chance at fleeing. Not without help.
Stay alive.
Don’t let her die.
We are coming.
“Still heading to the quarry first?” Naari asked once Kiva was before her.
“That’s the plan,” Kiva said, and the guard nodded and began leading the way from the infirmary.
Tipp had wanted to come, but Kiva had worried about pushing her luck with the Warden. There was no valid reason for him to accompany her, so she’d given him another job in her absence. It was important, since Kiva would need what he collected to be ready upon her return, but she didn’t envy him the task. He, however, had responded with boyish delight, acting as if she’d given him a birthday and Yulemas gift all at once. Sometimes Kiva forgot he was only eleven.
Naari didn’t say anything as they walked toward the main gates, and Kiva followed her example. It began spitting just as they passed the kennels and approached the central barracks, and Kiva shivered as the icy droplets hit her skin. She’d grown used to enduring the bitter temperatures wearing only her thin tunic and pants, but she always dreaded the winter months. She was lucky, compared to those who had to labor outdoors, but still, cold was cold.