Kiva intended to make a quick trip down to the tunnels with Naari in the morning to collect her final samples, returning before the Trial. The timing would be tight, with them needing to be back at the infirmary for Kiva’s summons, but she was confident they’d be able to sneak it in.

When the next morning arrived, however, her plans were derailed by the announcement that a prison wagon had just arrived, carrying new inmates. As the first point of call for them, Kiva had to remain in the infirmary to check them over and carve their hands, all of which took time, preventing her from collecting her final samples. The only positive was that the new arrivals also kept Kiva distracted, and, aside from making sure to ingest Mot’s foul-tasting potion, she was barely aware of the minutes ticking down to her Ordeal.

There were four prisoners in total, three men, one woman, all different ages and colorings, hailing from across Wenderall. Each was in good enough health that Kiva knew they hadn’t been transported very far on the most recent leg of their journey, not while there were still nearly four weeks left of winter. As it was, Kiva was surprised by their arrival. Only Jaren, his two dead companions, and, later, Tilda had been transported to Zalindov since the weather turned—plus the royal entourage for the first Ordeal, but they didn’t count, since their travel comfort was considerably different from what the prisoners experienced.

One by one, the new arrivals were shuffled over to Kiva, and she checked them, carved them, and sent them on their way, as she had done for years. Tipp remained with her, fetching her clean water and handing her pepperoot ash, then helping them all into their new prison clothes.

Only the woman dared to say anything to Kiva, grumbling that they’d been forced to make the frozen journey because every dungeon they’d tried to stop at along the way had been filled to capacity. She’d barely gotten the words out before Kiva hushed her, since it wasn’t Naari who had delivered the news of their arrival, nor was the amber-eyed woman in the infirmary watching over them. Instead, both Bones and the Butcher were lingering by the door, their silent menace filling the space and urging Kiva to hurry.

Finally, she finished with the last of the new arrivals, who was then herded by the two snarling guards over to where the others waited, after which they all mercifully left the infirmary, Bones and the Butcher included. They were someone else’s problem now, Kiva thought, relieved that she hadn’t been assigned orientation duties again, unlike with Jaren.

Though . . . that hadn’t worked out too badly, in the end.

“That w-was intense,” Tipp said, collecting the discarded clothes and placing them in a pile. “I don’t know h-how you do it.”