Kiva pressed her lips into a firm line. She wasn’t Jaren’s healer. She was the prison healer—everyone’s healer.

“Will you collect them before you finish up tonight, Mot?” Kiva said after unclenching her jaw.

Mot waved a dismissive hand. “O’ course, o’ course. But they’ll ’ave to wait for burnin’. Grendel’s already put a load through today.”

Kiva didn’t care when the two men were cremated, as long as they weren’t decaying in her infirmary. “Fine. Tipp’s checking on my quarantined patients at the moment, but just call out to him if you need any help.”

Mot’s eyes narrowed. “Tipp?”

Belatedly, Kiva remembered why she was in the morgue, rather than her assistant. Still unsure what had happened, she hedged, “He’ll stay out of your way unless you ask.”

“D’yeh know what the brat did?”

Kiva’s eyes flicked to Naari, but the guard’s back was to them as she faced out into the grounds. There was no way to tell if she was listening or not.

“Maybe we shouldn’t—”

“Gave me a heart attack, ’e did,” Mot said, scowling. “These old eyes ain’t what they used to be, yeh know. How was I s’posed to see ’ im lyin’ beneath one of the bodies?” His scowl deepened. “When I came near, ’e sat bolt upright with the corpse, wavin’ its arms and screamin’ at me. Thought the dead were comin’ back for revenge, didn’t I?”

Kiva heard Jaren cough from beside her, but she didn’t dare look his way, not when she was struggling to keep in her own laugh.

“I’ll have a word with him,” Kiva said once she was certain she could do so with solemnity. “It won’t happen again.”

“Better not,” Mot said. “My ticker can’t take another fright like that.” As an afterthought, he added, “And the dead deserve our respect.”

The latter was true, and Kiva would have a word with Tipp. Not just for the sake of the mortician, but also for Tipp himself. If he’d been caught . . . if any of the guards had witnessed his prank . . . then he never would have left the morgue.

A cold feeling overtook Kiva, but she shook it off and again promised Mot that she would give the boy a stern talking-to. In return, she received Mot’s word that he would collect the deceased men immediately. Satisfied, she was quick to leave the morgue with Jaren in tow, the two of them inhaling deeply once they were outside again.

“He seems like a character,” Jaren commented.