It was three days since she’d found him passed out in the garden. The first day had been hell, with her certain he would soon be heading to the morgue. But after his fever broke late that night, he’d improved dramatically, and it had been a struggle to keep him resting as what remained of the short-term bug he’d caught left his body. The only way she’d managed to keep him in bed was by promising to test the samples she’d collected the day he’d fallen ill, having put them aside to care for him.

She’d completed her tests yesterday under his watchful eye, the two of them alone in the infirmary, with Jaren having gone back to the tunnels and Naari accompanying him to smooth out any wrinkles caused by his absence. Kiva was beyond the point of questioning the guard’s motives, and was now just grateful for the unexpected ally she’d become—for all of them.

But today . . . since the most recent tests had failed yet again, Naari had arrived at the infirmary early that morning, reminding Kiva that she still had more samples to collect. And despite Kiva’s protests that she needed to remain with Tipp in case of a relapse, the young boy refused to allow her to stay behind and coddle him for another day.

“Your n-next Ordeal is tomorrow, Kiva,” Tipp said. “You need to t-test the aquifer and the t-tunnels so that you’re done. I’m fine, so stop w-worrying and just go.” He pointed to the door, as if doing so would help convince her.

“Don’t worry, sweets, I’ll keep an eye on him,” Olisha said, having arrived with Nergal to cover the day shift.

The offer was meant to reassure Kiva, but the last time Olisha had watched over Tipp, he’d collapsed out in the freezing cold, entirely forgotten. As such, Kiva didn’t have much confidence in the woman’s ability to monitor him.

Tipp sighed and said, “I w-won’t leave the infirmary, I promise. Not even if there’s a f-fire.”

Kiva frowned. “Please do leave if there’s a fire.”

“Fine, b-but aside from that, I won’t move. I’ll keep B-Boots away from the rats, and I’ll m-make sure Tilda eats something. I’ll even t-try and get Nergal to d-do some work.”

The man in question made a harrumph sound and proceeded to clean his fingernails, while Olisha sniggered at his side.

“How about you take a nap,” Kiva suggested instead. “Sleep is good for you.”

“I’ve b-been sleeping for days,” Tipp complained. “I’m all b-better, Kiva.” He held his hands out to the sides. “Fit as a f-f-fiddle.”