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.

“Here,” Naari said, reaching into her rucksack when the rain grew heavier, withdrawing a canvas poncho, and thrusting it toward Kiva.

With numb hands—from shock, not the cold—Kiva took it, staring at it mutely.

“Put it on before you’re soaked,” Naari said, as if speaking to an idiot.

Kiva followed the command on instinct. The canvas was heavy on her shoulders, but she was protected from the rain and felt an instant rush of heat from her trapped body warmth. When she raised the hood over her dark hair, she nearly moaned at the difference in temperature.

“The last thing we need is you getting sick,” Naari explained before Kiva could offer her gratitude. “Olisha and Nergal are useless. If anyone’s going to figure out how to stop this illness before we all die, it’s you.”

It was a valid excuse for the offering, but Kiva didn’t think it was the only reason Naari had brought the poncho. Her own leathery armor protected her from the elements—she hadn’t needed to bring anything for Kiva, despite her words. And yet she had.

In another time, another place, Kiva wondered if they might have been friends. Even here it was beginning to feel that way, though she didn’t dare dwell on that for long, knowing how dangerous such a thought was. Guards came and went, and soon enough, Naari would be gone, like all those before her.