That wasn’t what Kiva had expected, especially since it was Tipp who had told her of Caldon’s demise. He hadn’t been acting — she’d seen the grief in his eyes, the tears streaming down his face.
“He didn’t know he’d saved me,” Caldon said, noting her confusion. “I think he cracked one of my ribs when they went to collect my body and found me breathing. For someone so small, he sure is strong. Like a leech.”
“But, how?” Kiva asked, still not understanding. “Galdric said he used necros venom. There’s no cure for that. He said — He said —” She strained her mind, feeling fatigue press in on her. “He said Tipp tried to give you water. There’s no way that —”
“It wasn’t water,” Caldon said. “Do you remember when we were at the Midnight Markets, how Tipp snuck away while you were getting the ring?”
Kiva wouldn’t forget that night in a hurry, and she nodded.
“Well, while you were off serenading the moon or whatever the hell you were doing, we ran around in a panic looking for him, only to find him back with the Mystican. Apparently, they enjoyed quite the conversation, which included her handing him a vial of liquid and telling him to put it in his waterskin ‘on the morning of the ninth day,’ and that he was to use it ‘when the snake strikes.’ Poor kid thought he was out of his mind and didn’t tell any of us, not wanting us to think he was crazy for listening to her. But he kept track of the days and followed her instructions, and then when Galdric got a lucky slice in” — Caldon lifted his shirt to reveal a white bandage just beneath his rib cage — “and gloated about the venom, Tipp realized that was what he’d been warned about, and he tried to force the entire contents of his waterskin down my throat.” Caldon’s face shadowed. “That wasn’t pleasant, let me tell you. But I choked down a few mouthfuls before Galdric hauled him away.” He shrugged and finished, “And now, here I am.”
“But — But —” Kiva couldn’t wrap her head around the story, and settled on repeating, “There’s no cure for necros venom. Not in all of Wenderall.”
“Exactly,” Caldon said. “In Wenderall. But the Mystican isn’t from Wenderall, is she?”
Wonder filled Kiva as she thought about Zofia Sage and her uncanny mental magic, how she’d hailed from across the ocean. “Unbelievable,” she whispered.
“I’m sorry to say this, Sunshine,” Caldon said, “but Tipp has pushed you off the top of my ‘favorite people’ list. Don’t take it personally.”
Kiva leaned more of her weight against him and said, with feeling, “He’s up there on my list, too.”
Caldon’s eyes warmed, and he kissed the top of her head. “I still feel half dead, but you’re the one we were all really worried about. It was touch and go for a few days there.”
Kiva stilled. “Days?”
“You’ve been unconscious for the better part of a week,” Caldon revealed. “The blade ruptured your liver or your lungs or — something else in there. Internal bleeding, Maddis said. They worked around the clock to keep you with us.”
His words were light, but Kiva could hear the fear in his voice — the same fear she’d felt when she’d thought she’d lost him. She pressed her cheek to his chest, wincing at the renewed throb in her stomach. It was aching more now, aggravated by her crying attack, but even so —
“Are you sure there was internal bleeding? It hurts, but it doesn’t hurt that bad.”
Caldon grinned. “That’ll be the drugs. Not poppymilk,” he said quickly. “Cresta told them about your history with angeldust, and they decided it was best to avoid anything addictive. I don’t know what they gave you, just that it’s meant to dull the pain and make you drowsy. I’m honestly surprised you’ve managed to stay awake for this whole conversation.”
Kiva was feeling sleep tug at her, but Caldon had just reminded her of something else, and she forced her eyes to remain open.
“Cresta — she’s —”
“A Kildarion?” Caldon said, his grin widening. “That was a delicious little secret to keep, let me tell you.”
Kiva gaped at him. “You knew?”
He rolled his eyes. “When are you going to realize that I know everything?”
“But — how?” she spluttered. “And why didn’t you say something?”
“Firstly,” he said, “it wasn’t my secret to share.” His pointed look made Kiva bite her lip in acknowledgment of the secrets he’d kept for her. Then he went on, “And to be fair, I didn’t know at first. There was always something familiar about her, something I couldn’t put my finger on, but I only started piecing it together partway through our travels. The way she moved, the way she looked . . . How some of the foreign rulers reacted to seeing her, as if they couldn’t figure where they might have known her from, her family resemblance subtle but enough to trigger interest.” He snorted and added, “Never mind that she’s fluent in more languages than I am, and she fights like she was born with a blade in her hand.”
Now that he’d laid it all out, Kiva felt even more foolish for not realizing. She opened her mouth to ask a million questions, one of which was what Cresta’s royal status meant for Caldon personally, given the way their relationship had appeared to be slowly developing during their travels. But before she could get a word out, the door to her room opened and Healer Maddis appeared.
She paused at the entry, her gray eyebrows shooting together.
“Uh-oh,” Caldon muttered. “Caught.”
He didn’t move, though.
The Matron Healer sighed, long and loud, before walking over to them and saying, “You’re meant to be resting. Both of you.”
Caldon indicated their prone bodies. “How much more resting can we be?”
Maddis ignored him and looked at Kiva. “Good to see you awake, dear.”
“Thank you for taking care of me,” she replied quietly, almost shyly, her respect for the head of Silverthorn only growing each time they met.
The healer waved away her gratitude. “How are you feeling? Any pain?”
“A little,” Kiva answered honestly.
Maddis pulled a vial from her white robes. “Drink this. All of it.”
Knowing better than to argue, Kiva reached for it, alarmed by how weak her arm felt. How weak her entire body felt. That weakness didn’t fade when she swallowed the tonic, grimacing at the bitter, earthy taste, but she did feel near-instant pain relief, the throbbing in her stomach returning to a dull ache.
Her eyes began to close of their own accord, the medicine stealing her consciousness, but she fought to listen as Maddis said, “You’ll need to stay here under observation for a few more days, and then you’ll have to be very gentle with yourself for a while. But you should make a full recovery.”
“That’s good news,” Kiva said, her words coming out mumbled and slurred.
She wasn’t able to hold on to her awareness after that, with the last thing she heard being Maddis’s voice coming from far away as she said to Caldon, “Don’t make me tie you to your own bed, young man.”