Page 40 of The Prison Healer

The princess raised her hand, and Kiva flinched backwards, an automatic defensive response. Mirryn’s eyes flickered behind her mask, but she said nothing, instead slowly closing her hand into a fist. As she did so, the air around them rippled and Kiva’s ears popped as pressure pushed against her, her head feeling like it was being stuffed with cotton wool.

“I’ve placed us in an air pocket,” Mirryn said, “for privacy.” She nodded toward Veris, who was looking out at the grounds, now oblivious to their ongoing conversation.

Marveling at what the princess had done, Kiva tried to yawn away the pressure, but the discomforting sensation didn’t yield.

“We won’t have much time before he wonders why we’re so quiet and realizes what I’ve done,” the princess continued, a hint of urgency in her smooth, cultured voice. “Tell me, how confident are you that you can survive the next three Ordeals?”

Kiva was surprised enough that she stopped attempting to yawn, making herself ignore the strange feeling of the air pocket. “I think the better question is howunconfident I am.”

“I’m being serious, healer.”

“As am I, Princess,” Kiva shot back. “No one has ever survived all four before.”

She wasn’t about to admit to her hopes that she wouldn’t have to undertake the remaining Trials, that her family would come for her before then.

Mirryn shook her head. “Not true. Long ago, people survived.”

Kiva made a scoffing sound, the poppymilk overriding her self-preservation instincts. “Sure, back when people had magic. Sorry to disappoint you, but unless I’m your long-lost sister, I don’t have a lick of elemental power in my veins.”

“So you need to use your other skills,” Mirryn said, growing frustrated. “Whatcanyou do?”

Kiva threw out her arms, instantly regretting the move for the surge of pain it prompted. “Look around you. This is what I can do—I heal people. That’s it.”

“Then you’re going to die.”

Five words, and Kiva’s breath froze in her lungs.

Mirryn settled back in her seat, her face impassive, despite the death sentence she’d just delivered.

“It’s true, you know it is,” the princess said coldly. “And whileyoumight not deserve such an end, everyone certainly believesshedoes.” Mirryn jabbed an elegant finger toward Tilda’s closed curtain.

Kiva swallowed.

“You’re going to die,” Mirryn repeated, “and so will she.” The princess sent her a ruthless look. “And quite frankly, it’d be much less of a headache for all of us if you did.”

Kiva sucked in a breath, but Mirryn wasn’t done speaking.

“But,”the princess said, before sighing, long and loud, “it seems I’m too magnanimous for my own good.”

Brow crinkling, Kiva asked, “What?”

Mirryn sighed again, then said, “Warden Rooke said you’ve been here ten years. You’re a survivor, Kiva Meridan, and if you can last that long, you can make it through another six weeks. Especially if you have help.”

Kiva was struggling to keep up with what was happening, the painkillers making her mind slower than normal. It sounded as if—

“Here,” Mirryn said, thrusting a hand into her cloak, and, after a quick glance toward the still-oblivious Veris, withdrawing a shiny amulet.

Kiva took it when prompted and turned it between her fingers. Upon realizing what it was, she debated whether the poppymilk was a good enough excuse to get away with throwing it back at the princess’s face.

At the end of the glittery chain was a perfect depiction of the Vallentis crest. The sword, arrow, crown, and four quadrants were solid gold, but the elemental representations were made from colored gemstones: sapphire for water, emerald for earth, topaz for air, and ruby for fire.

It was beautiful.

But it represented everything—everything—Kiva hated.

“Very pretty,” she bit out as she shoved it back toward the princess.

Mirryn didn’t take it. Instead, she said, “Most of my family has just one elemental affinity, but I’m gifted with two. Air, as you already know ...” She paused, as if to make sure Kiva was paying attention, “And fire.”

---