Even if the rebels didn’t arrive in time to free them before the Ordeal, Kiva was going to fight, and keep fighting, because there were people in here who needed her. And there were people beyond Zalindov’s walls who she was determined to see again.

Her family was waiting for her. They were coming for her. She knew it, like she knew her own name. One day they would be together again.

She refused to allow her story to end before that day came.

Chapter Nineteen

After sharing her father’s tale with Tilda, Kiva ventured out to the medicinal garden, a place where she always felt closest to him. Olisha and Nergal had arrived early for their shift, so she knew there was someone watching over the sick woman, ready to call out at the first sign of trouble. But Kiva felt confident that Tilda was stable again, at least for the moment.

Walking along the gravel path, Kiva ran her fingers through the gabbergrass that rose taller than she did, obscuring much of the trail ahead. The long green shoots were technically weeds, but the stems could be milked and used to soothe earaches, and Kiva liked the privacy they afforded, the illusion that this was a little slice of paradise tucked away in the middle of the prison, just for her.

This can be our place, little mouse, her father had told her. Whenever we need to get away from it all, we can come here. Our very own sanctuary.

Kiva closed her eyes as his voice washed over her, her fingers still weaving through the grass. She only opened them again when she came to a bend in the path, following it around in a loop. To her right were the flower beds—marigold, calendula, lavender, and poppy flowers, alongside the snowblossoms and buttercress. Opposite them were the berries, then the sprouts, then the herbs, then the nettles . . . and on it went, the garden organized into sections by the types of plants, and also by their medicinal qualities, with the most dangerous specimens at the furthest end of the looping path, in their own separate bed to lessen the risk of accidental spreading.

Glancing around, Kiva recalled the first time she’d set foot in the garden, her father having led her by the hand along the path at sunset.

It’s our secret, he’d told her with a wink. As long as I’m the prison healer, you can sneak back here anytime you want.

But what about the guards, Papa?

We’ll make it a game, Faran had replied. Hide-and-seek, just like you used to play with Zulee and Tor and— He’d broken off then, before mentioning Kerrin’s name. Never mentioning Kerrin’s name.

Kiva swallowed as the memory came to her.

Her father, the prison healer.