“I believe in you,” he interrupted, without any hint of doubt in his voice. “Tipp believes in you. Mot believes in you.” He paused. “Even Naari believes in you.”

“Most prison guards wouldn’t care whether I live or die.”

“Naari doesn’t seem like most prison guards,” Jaren said, stating the obvious. “She’s clearly fond of you.”

“That’s because I’m the only person standing between her and death, if this sickness continues,” Kiva muttered, though she knew that wasn’t the only reason. The guard did seem to genuinely care for her, even lying to the other guards last night to protect her.

Jaren tucked a strand of hair behind Kiva’s ear, causing her to suck in a breath. But before she could do anything—jerk away, lean forward, remain frozen—he stepped back, both of his hands now resting casually by his sides.

“Maybe,” he said. His lips twitched. “Or it could be because of your warmth and kindness and overall sociability.”

Kiva crossed her arms. “Ha-ha.”

Jaren laughed quietly, the sound loosening some of the knots in Kiva’s stomach.

Tipping his chin toward the rat pen, he asked, “Any progress?”

Kiva latched on to his offered distraction with unhidden gratitude. Quickly explaining about Mot’s elixir, she finished with, “I think we can rule out the quarry as the origin. If something was going to happen, it would have shown by now.”

“So, back to the drawing board?” Jaren asked.

“More like continuing on to the next sketch,” Kiva said.

“Which you’ll do after you pass today’s Ordeal,” Jaren said, his voice full of confidence.

Kiva swallowed, holding his steady gaze. “Right.”

“It’s nearly time,” came Naari’s voice as she strode into the infirmary.

All the breath left Kiva, first because she wasn’t ready, and second because Jaren wasn’t supposed to be there during work hours.

For one mad second, she wondered how she could hide him, before sanity took hold and she realized it was too late, since Naari was already looking straight at him.

“The other prisoners are being assembled,” the guard told him. “You need to hurry and join the rest of the tunnelers before anyone realizes you’re not with them.”

Jaren gave her a quick nod, before turning back to the dumbstruck Kiva. “See you afterward.”

No biddings of good fortune or luck, and certainly no farewell; only an encouragement that they would see each other again, something that wouldn’t happen if she failed the Trial.

Because she’d be dead.

Kiva was confused. Jaren hadn’t held back in berating her after she’d volunteered to take on Tilda’s sentence, but today he seemed to have complete conviction in her ability to succeed. His turnaround surprised her almost as much as Naari being unconcerned about finding him somewhere he shouldn’t be. And that Kiva couldn’t begin to understand.