Kiva shot a panicked glance toward Cresta, only to realize that the redhead was about to do something foolish — like attack the guards — so she quickly croaked out, “It’s fine. I’ll be back soon.”
She wasn’t sure if that was true, since she had no idea what Bones wanted, but she couldn’t stand the thought of Cresta getting punished on her behalf. If the ex-quarrier pushed the guards any further, then Kiva didn’t want to consider what consequences she might face.
Holding Cresta’s eyes, Kiva silently begged her to stand down, until finally she stopped struggling and gave a terse nod of agreement.
A relieved breath left Kiva, but then her body locked when Bones spun on his heel and strode away, calling over his shoulder, “If I don’t hear your footsteps behind me, the next place you’ll be heading is the morgue.”
Cresta shook off her guards and gave Kiva a hearty shove forward, saying, “Bones doesn’t make threats — he makes promises. Hurry.”
“But you —”
“Will do as he said and be a good little tunneler,” Cresta said sourly, pushing Kiva again. “Go.”
With one final Why aren’t you moving? look, Cresta returned to her place against the limestone wall and resumed digging. The two guards watched her closely, but Kiva knew the redhead was smart enough not to give them any more trouble. Cresta had already risked much by challenging Bones, who had earned his nickname from callously snapping the bones of prisoners, sometimes for no reason other than that he was bored.
Guilt churned within Kiva at the thought of what could have happened if he’d lost his patience with the ex-quarrier. But then she remembered he was waiting for her to follow, so with one last glance to make sure Cresta was safely back to work, Kiva hurried after the guard, catching up just as he reached the ladders. He seemed almost disappointed to see her behind him, his hand gripping his crossbow as if he’d been looking forward to using it.
Kiva eyed the weapon nervously, causing Bones to smile, but he only jerked his chin at the ladder shaft and said, “Up we go.” Mockingly, he added, “Ladies first.”
Hyperaware of Bones monitoring her every move, Kiva obediently climbed the rungs. It felt like an eternity before they reached the surface, so many questions popping into her mind, none of which she could ask.
But none of which she had to, because as soon as she followed Bones out into the afternoon sunshine, she saw why he had retrieved her.
Or rather, who had summoned her.
The Warden stood waiting just beyond the entrance to the domed building, his dark face blank as he took in her sweat-soaked, dust-smeared appearance.
She came to a sudden stop at the sight of him.
Five weeks, and she hadn’t seen him once, not since she’d first arrived, her mind having been so drug-addled at the time that she barely remembered the encounter. A flash of teeth revealing his delight, coupled with some jeering words welcoming her back — that was all she recalled. She’d been so out of it that she hadn’t felt anything then, unlike now.
Her vision turned red as she looked at the man responsible for the deaths of so many people.
Including, years ago, her father.
“So it’s true — you’re still alive,” Rooke said without preamble.
Kiva didn’t reply, reminding herself that if she tried to physically harm him, Bones would take her down. Caldon had begun training her to fight during her time at the River Palace, but she’d had nowhere near enough lessons to take on both Rooke and Bones — or even just one of them. Her skills were lamentable, and that was without the weeks of malnourishment and neglect that came with being a prisoner. She had to be smart and bide her time, even if she longed to make him pay for what he’d done.
“I have to admit, I didn’t think you’d last this long,” Rooke went on. “Especially given the state you were in when you arrived. I’m reluctantly impressed.” His eyes held hers, his diamond scar more menacing than ever. “Then again, you always were a survivor, weren’t you?”
Kiva raised her chin, but remained silent.
“Nothing to say?” He cocked a brow. “Pity. But I didn’t come to hear you speak. You’ve caused me no end of trouble since you left, Kiva Meridan — or should I say, Kiva Corentine.”
She tried not to react, but her face drained of color, causing Rooke’s expression to flare with triumph.
“That came as quite the surprise,” he said. “Though I now understand why you volunteered for the Trial by Ordeal. Your own mother — how tragic.”
At his taunting words, Kiva clenched her hands hard enough for her fingernails to pierce her skin.
“But none of that would have mattered — I would have left you alone, if not for that prince of yours,” Rooke said, his voice growing heated. “Did you know he tried to remove me as the Warden? He even tried to bring charges against me, if you can believe it. But I don’t answer to Evalon — or not just Evalon. I’m governed by the leaders of all eight kingdoms, and when it comes to orders, the majority rules. Unlike your Prince Deverick, they appreciate my competence here, knowing I keep the worst offenders in Wenderall locked away from the world. How I do that, they don’t care. Or they didn’t — until you and your prince put a spotlight on me.”
Kiva stilled at the dark look on Rooke’s face.
“They might have decided not to act on Deverick’s allegations, but they’re watching me much more closely now,” the Warden said. “I don’t like that. Not at all.”
He leaned forward, the movement slight and yet still ominous enough to fill Kiva with foreboding.
“Since he’s no longer here to feel my displeasure, I’ve decided that, now you’re feeling better, you’ll get to experience it on his behalf.”
Kiva’s foreboding grew as Rooke waved his hand and two of his personal guards appeared like smoke from around the side of the building.
“The Butcher is expecting you, N18K442,” Rooke said as the new guards latched on to Kiva’s arms.
It took a moment for his words to process, but when they did, her heart stopped.
Rooke’s lips stretched into a grin as he finished, “He’s got a special cell prepared, just for you.”
Chapter Three
Darkness.
That was all Kiva knew — all Kiva was.
Curled up in the corner of a pitch-black cell inside the Abyss, she tried to find the will to survive, her inner demons whispering that she should give up, that everyone hated her and no one would ever forgive her. That there was no reason to keep on living.
Such thoughts had plagued her ever since the angeldust had faded from her blood weeks earlier, but the unnatural darkness of the Abyss amplified them, leaving her slumped over herself and covering her ears, as if doing so might keep the damning voices at bay.
She was in her own personal hell — and it was a hell of her own making.
Kiva had felt the despair of being locked in an isolation cell only once before, right after Jaren had saved her from the Trial by Water. The sensory deprivation had nearly destroyed her, but thanks to Naari’s warning, Kiva had known she would be released for her final Ordeal.
This time, she had no guarantees. All she knew was that the Butcher’s ruddy face had lit with anticipation upon Rooke’s guards delivering her to the punishment block earlier that afternoon, his delight enough that, for one stomach-dropping moment, Kiva had feared he would drag her straight to the flogging post. She still had nightmares about his bloodied whip tearing Jaren’s flesh open. But the Butcher had spared her that cruelty, having other plans for her, other torments.