Kiva couldn’t risk giving away what she’d discovered, not until she was certain the person responsible would be caught. Olisha and Nergal had been nothing more than pawns. Idiotic pawns, but pawns nonetheless. Until their supplier was revealed, Kiva had to be careful who she told. She couldn’t just blurt out the truth to Warden Rooke, not while others were listening. The prisoners weren’t the only gossips at Zalindov. The rumor mill ran rampant among the guards, too, and word always traveled back to the inmates.

This needed to be taken care of—but quietly. Zalindov was already a powder keg waiting to explode. If people discovered that the illness wasn’t an illness . . . that someone was deliberately poisoning them . . .

“What’s that you’ve got there?” Rooke said, peering at the liquid in Kiva’s white-knuckled grip.

Kiva sought a calmness she didn’t feel, lying through her teeth as she handed the vial back to Olisha and said, “Nothing important.”

Rooke’s eyes narrowed and Kiva felt a spark of hope, knowing how good he was at reading people. Surely he would recognize the panic on her features enough to see that something was wrong, and demand a private audience with her. Then she could tell him the truth without listening ears.

But he said nothing, oblivious to all she was thinking and feeling. All he did was turn away and gesture for her to follow. “Come. We’ve a walk ahead of us.”

“Wait!” she cried, unable to stop herself. “Can I have a quick word? Alone?”

Rooke’s strides didn’t even slow as he called over his shoulder, “We’re running late. Whatever it is, it can wait until after your Trial.”

“If you’re still alive,” snickered the guard who had walked in with him, stepping closer and giving Kiva a hearty shove forward. “Move, healer.”

“But—”

“Walk, or I’ll carry you.” The guard shoved her again. “Your choice.”

Kiva ground her teeth together but stomped obediently toward the door, silently cursing Rooke for not seeing how desperate she was to speak with him.

Her thoughts spiraled as she stepped outside, the still-snickering guard speeding up to flank the Warden alongside two others. A further three joined them on the path, but none were Naari. Kiva was desperate to see her and share what she’d learned, certain that Naari, unlike the Warden, would listen, and confident that the guard would know what action to take. People were dying because of a poison. Someone needed to know, needed to figure out who was behind it and bring them to justice.