#Review - The Blood Traitor by Lynette Noni #YA #Fantasy

Series: The Prison Healer # 3
Format: Hardcover, 464 pages
Release Date: June 14, 2022
Publisher: Clarion Books
Source: Library
Genre: Young Adult / Dark Fantasy

Kiva thought she knew what she wanted—revenge. But feelings change, people change... everything has changed.

After what happened at the palace, Kiva is desperate to know if her friends and family are safe, and whether those she wronged can ever forgive her. But with the kingdoms closer to the brink of war than they’ve ever been, and Kiva far away from the conflict, more is at stake than her own broken heart.

A fresh start will mean a perilous quest, forcing mortal enemies and uneasy allies together in a race against the clock to save not just Evalon, but all of Wenderall. With her loyalties now set, Kiva can no longer just survive—she must fight for what she believes in. For who she believes in. But with danger coming from every side, and the lives of everyone she loves at risk, does she have what it takes to stand, or will she fall?

She’d failed them. All of them. And now she was paying the price. 

The Blood Traitor is the third and final installment in author Lynette Noni's The Prison Healer trilogy. The story begins 5 weeks after the events of the previous installment. After being betrayed by her own sister Zuleeka, drugged with angel dust which is an addicting drug, and once again brought to Zalindov Prison where it is likely nobody will find her, Kiva Corentine no longer cares if she lives or dies. Especially since the evil Rooke is still the Warden of Zalindov and Kiva managed to escape his grasp in the first installment.

Especially since it was her own actions that helped her sister tear apart a country and leave her as Queen. Within the first several chapters, Kiva is assigned to be a tunneler where your life span is reduced to several years if you are lucky. Then a very angry Warden decides Kiva needs to be sent to the Abyss as punishment because she somehow manages to surprise him by living. While Kiva has basically given up on any hope of living, or making things right by those she hurt the most, Cresta Voss refuses to accept surrender from Kiva. 

While Cresta Voss is attempting to detox Kiva and get her back to full strength, something unexpected happens. Kiva is released from Zalindov and sent to Stoneforge where King Navok awaits thanks to an agreement that Kiva's mother made. Thanks to the assistance of a maid who turns out to be Ashlyn Vallen, commander of the Army, and Galdric Shaw, who claims he was working with her mother, Kiva is able to escape her future's husbands march on her home where it appears that Zuleeka and Mirryn have a major problem with the local population not liking how things have gone.  

With Tipp and Jaren not speaking to her, not even looking at her, Kiva, Caldon, Kiva’s brother Tor, Cresta, Ashlyn, and Naari must travel to 4 different countries where 4 pieces of the Hand of God can be found. In one stop, Kiva, Cresta, Ashlyn, and Naari are drugged and forced to face trained female warriors to the death. In another stop, Kiva and Jaren must put away their emotions and heartbreak to find the next key needed to defeat Zuleeka and get Jaren's powers back. In another stop, Kiva has to choose between her own personal demons in order to get the third piece.

There’s numerous sword battles, magic training and cloak and dagger schemes, all leading to a climax of epic proportions. There is also a choice that Kiva makes that I am angry about because she worked so hard to make things right for people, and learns so much about herself, her inner strength, and her magic, only to make the wrong choice when facing her own sister. It's not a spoiler folks. It's just my opinion that the author made the wrong choice regarding Kiva. Repeating what another reviewer said, I wasn't a fan of Jaren’s character for a large portion of this book. It isn't until the second challenge where things begin to get better. 

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#Review - The Gilded Cage by Lynette Noni #YA #Fantasy

Series: The Prison Healer # 2
Format: Hardcover, 448 pages
Release Date: October 12, 2021
Publisher: Clarion Books
Source: Publisher
Genre: Young Adult / Fantasy / Dark Fantasy

Kiva trades one cage for another when she leaves behind a deadly prison for a deceptive palace in this dark and dangerous sequel to The Prison Healer, which Sarah J. Maas called "a must-read."

Kiva Meridan is a survivor.

She survived not only Zalindov prison, but also the deadly Trial by Ordeal. Now Kiva’s purpose goes beyond survival to vengeance. For the past ten years, her only goal was to reunite with her family and destroy the people responsible for ruining their lives. But now that she has escaped Zalindov, her mission has become more complicated than ever.

As Kiva settles into her new life in the capital, she discovers she wasn’t the only one who suffered while she was in Zalindov—her siblings and their beliefs have changed too. Soon it’s not just her enemies she’s keeping secrets from, but her own family as well.

Outside the city walls, tensions are brewing from the rebels, along with whispers of a growing threat from the northern kingdoms. Kiva’s allegiances are more important than ever, but she’s beginning to question where they truly lie. To survive this time, she’ll have to navigate a complicated web of lies before both sides of the battle turn against her and she loses everything.

The Gilded Cage, by author Lynette Noni, is the second installment in The Prison Healer series. Kiva Meridan Corentine is a survivor. She survived not only Zalindov prison, but also the deadly Trial by Ordeal with a bit of help from Jaren Vallentis aka Prince Derrick. After escaping the Zalindov prison with Jaren, Tipp and Naari, Kiva found herself free for the first time in ten long years. The author takes readers briefly back in time to that horrible day that Kiva and her father were taken to Zalindov prison. A place where he will eventually die, and she was spent 10 years. 

It shows that her mother, Tilda Corentine, was the true Rebel Queen who wanted her bloodline back in power, and to rid the world of the Vallentis. Since her escape, Kiva has made in roads with the Vallentis, especially Mirryn and Caldon, while being welcome by the King and Queen Arianna. Tripp has found a friend with the younger Vallentis, while Kiva grows closer to Jaren, and Caldon decides that Kiva needs to learn how to protect herself. For the first time in 10 years, Kiva genuinely feels wanted, and hopes for a future where she can attend the same school as her father did.

But she's also weary about letting her healing ability be seen by anyone. For the past ten years, her only goal was to reunite with her family and destroy the people responsible for ruining their lives. As Kiva settles into her new life in the capital, she discovers that she's not really safe when an unknown group kidnaps her, and she meets her siblings, Zuleeka and Torell, who have leaders of the rebellion. Soon it’s not just her enemies she’s keeping secrets from, but her own family as well. 

These secrets really messed with Kiva and she ends up making some really horrible mistakes. Kiva’s allegiances are more important than ever, but she’s beginning to question where they truly lie. Her siblings drop a major piece of information into Kiva's lap and then expect her to just follow them in bringing down the people who have treated her like family. To survive this time, she’ll have to navigate a complicated web of lies before both sides of the battle turn against her and she loses everything.

The addition of Caldon makes the story even better. I feel as though he has more levels than has been unpeeled by the author. I feel as though he will end up being more of an ally to Kiva with the events that happen than Jarren. I also want Kiva to gain revenge on an assortment of characters who I won't spoil. After Noni pulled the mother of all twists in The Prison Healer, I spent a good majority of The Gilded Cage trying to anticipate jaw dropping plot twists. Noni is clearly a master in the art of deception and misdirection because you couldn't have slapped me any harder in the fact than what the author does to the end of this story. 

If you like drama, romance, secrets, politics, and magic, you'll enjoy this series. 

Chapter One

The man was dead.
      Kiva Meridan—known to a select few as Kiva Corentine—stared down at the body, noting his sunken cheeks and ashen skin. Given his state of bloating, he’d likely passed into the everworld three or four days ago. Long enough for the scent of death to emanate from him, even if he was yet to show physical signs of decomposition.
      “Middle-aged male, average height and build, pulled out of the Serin River early this morning,” Healer Maddis said, her crisp voice enunciating every word perfectly. “Who can speculate as to the cause of death?”
      Kiva kept her mouth shut, fully aware that she’d been granted entrance into the sterile examination room as an observer only.
      “No one?” Healer Maddis prompted her students, all of whom were crowded around the body resting on a metal slab in the center of the small space. “Novice Waldon?”
      A young man wearing large spectacles blinked owlishly and answered, “Uh, he drowned?”
      “Marvelous deductive reasoning,” Maddis said dryly, before turning to the student beside him. “Novice Quinn?”
      The young woman hunched in on herself, her voice barely a whisper as she said, “Maybe a heart attack? Or—Or a stroke?”
      Healer Maddis tapped a fingernail against her lips. “Perhaps. Anyone else?”
      Kiva shifted on her feet, catching the healer’s attention.
      “What about our visitor?” Maddis asked, drawing all eyes to Kiva. “Miss Meridan, isn’t it?”
      Seeing the open, inviting challenge in the elderly healer’s gaze, Kiva shook off her trepidation and stepped closer to the corpse, picking up his limp hand to reveal the smudges beneath his nails.
      “This discoloration indicates he was suffering from an immune disorder, most likely syphinus or cretamot,” Kiva said, having diagnosed similar cases in the past. “If left untreated, both can lead to the rapid swelling of blood vessels.” She glanced toward the two novices who had been called upon. “Waldon and Quinn are both right—he most likely had a heart attack or a stroke, caused by his underlying medical condition, then fell into the river to drown.” She released the man’s hand. “But only a full examination will be able to say for sure.”
      An approving smile stretched across the Matron Healer’s dark, wrinkled face. “Well spotted.” She then launched into a lecture about common immune disorders, but Kiva was only half listening, still marveling over where she stood.
      Silverthorn Academy—the most renowned healing academy in all of Evalon. Some would argue in all of Wenderall.
      When Kiva was a child, her father had spoken often about Silverthorn. Having grown up in the city of Fellarion, he’d used any excuse to visit Vallenia and sneak into the academy’s classes. His greatest regret was that he’d never relocated to study on campus full-time, instead accepting an apprenticeship from a master healer nearer to his home—an honored position, but one that paled in comparison to being a Silverthorn student.
      Faran had made it his life’s purpose to help people, something Kiva had inherited to the point that, even when she’d been locked away in a nightmare, she’d still used everything he’d taught her to make the lives of others better.
      A shadowy feeling overtook Kiva as she thought of the long years that were now behind her. A decade of her life spent behind thick limestone walls and impenetrable iron gates.
      Zalindov prison.
      It was a death sentence for most, but Kiva had survived.
      And now she was here, standing at the heart of her father’s dream, when she should have been somewhere else. Anywhere else.
      There was no excuse for her actions today. But when the opportunity to visit Silverthorn had presented itself, she hadn’t been able to say no, even knowing that her own desires should have been at the bottom of her priorities.
      It had been six weeks since Kiva had escaped Zalindov. Six weeks since she’d discovered that the crown prince had helped keep her alive through the deadly Trial by Ordeal, a set of four elemental challenges she’d undertaken in order to save the life of the Rebel Queen, Tilda Corentine.
      Kiva’s mother.
      Her efforts had been in vain, with a violent prison riot ending Tilda’s life. But even in death, her purpose remained, inherited by Kiva and her two older siblings. Together, the three of them would seek vengeance for what had been stolen generations ago; together, they would reclaim Evalon’s throne for the Corentine bloodline.
      The problem was, Kiva had no idea how to find her brother and sister. The only hint she had was a coded note she’d received before leaving Zalindov, containing a single word: Oakhollow.
      The village was barely half an hour’s ride away from Vallenia, but Kiva hadn’t had a spare moment to explore since arriving in the city two days ago, having spent the previous weeks holed up in the Tanestra Mountains waiting for the spring thaws. The first chance she’d had to sneak away was today. But instead of using the opportunity to seek out her long-lost siblings, she was indulging in her own dreams.
      Tilda Corentine would have been livid.
      Faran Meridan would have been delighted.
      Kiva chose to side with her father, deciding that her mother’s mission could wait another day.
      Guilt had simmered within her when she’d made her choice that morning, but a knot of anxiety had also eased in her stomach. She had no reason to be nervous about a reunion with her siblings, and yet . . . ten years was a long time. Kiva wasn’t the same carefree child anymore, and she could only assume the same must be true for them. Too much had happened—to them all.
      And then there was what the three of them intended to do . . .
      The sound of chiming bells interrupted her thoughts, the noise making her jump, a lingering effect of the years she’d spent listening for the smallest of sounds that could herald her death. But she was no longer in Zalindov, the peaceful chimes merely echoing through the walls of the sterile examination room to signal the end of class.
      The students, all clad in pristine white robes, scrambled to finish writing their lesson notes as Healer Maddis dismissed them.
      “And remember,” she called as they started toward the door, “for those heading to the festival this weekend, there will be no mercy come Monday should you partake of excessive libations. Consider yourselves warned.”
      There was a twinkle in her gray eyes as she uttered her half-hearted threat, with some of the braver students grinning in response as they headed out the door, Kiva following in their footsteps.
      “Miss Meridan, a word?”
      Kiva halted at the threshold of the small examination room. “Yes, Matron Healer?” she asked, using the honorific owed to the woman, not only because of her age and experience, but because she was the head of Silverthorn Academy.
      “Few people would have noted the discolored nailbeds as quickly as you did,” Maddis said, covering the deceased man with a sheet. “And even fewer without proper training.” She looked up, their eyes meeting. “You impressed me.”
      Kiva squirmed and mumbled, “Thank you.”
      “Faran Meridan once impressed me, too.”
      Kiva stopped squirming in an instant.
      Healer Maddis’s wrinkles deepened as she smiled. “I knew whose daughter you were the moment you walked through the door.”
      Unsure whether she should flee or wait to see what the healer said next, the choice was taken from Kiva when Maddis asked, “How is your father? Still saving the world, one patient at a time?”
      A million responses came to Kiva’s mind, but she settled on simply saying, “He died. Nine years ago.”
      Maddis’s face fell. “Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.”
      Kiva only nodded, seeing no reason to reveal how he had died. Or where.
      The Matron Healer cleared her throat. “Your father was my best student—ignoring the fact that he wasn’t a Silverthorn student at all. Young Faran Meridan was always sneaking into my classes, acting like an innocent novice.” Maddis huffed with amusement. “He showed enough promise that I never reported him to the Matron Healer at the time, knowing he’d be banned from the grounds. Someone with such natural, intuitive talent deserved the chance to hone his skills. I believed that then.” She paused. “And I believe it now.”
      The look Maddis sent Kiva caused her breath to catch.
      “Faran’s death is devastating, but I’m thrilled to learn his passion was passed on,” the healer said. “Should you wish it, you would be welcome to study here at Silverthorn. No sneaking in necessary.”
      Kiva’s mouth opened and closed like a fish. Studying at Silverthorn would be a dream come true. The things she would learn . . . Tears welled in her eyes at the very thought.
      And they welled even more because she knew she couldn’t accept.
      Mother is dead.
      I’m on my way to Vallenia.
      It’s time to reclaim our kingdom.
      Kiva had written those words to her brother and sister upon leaving Zalindov, and she had to see them through, denying her own ambitions in order to put her family first.
      “Think on it,” Healer Maddis said, when Kiva remained quiet. “Take however long you need. The offer will remain open.”
      Blinking back more tears, Kiva prepared to utter a polite refusal. But when she finally spoke, what she said was, “I’ll consider it.”
      Despite her words, Kiva knew Silverthorn wasn’t in her future. As soon as Maddis learned where she’d practiced her skills for the last decade, the invitation would be withdrawn. All Kiva had to do was raise her sleeve and uncover the Z scar on her hand.
      But she couldn’t do it. Couldn’t sabotage herself with such finality. Instead, she uttered a quiet farewell and stepped out of the examination room into the sterile hallway beyond.
      Mind reeling, Kiva paid little attention as she walked down the long corridor, passing white-robed healers and students, along with a mixture of plain-clothed visitors and patients. She’d already had a tour of the campus earlier that day, learning that there were three large infirmaries—one for psychological trauma and healing, one for long-term patient care and rehabilitation, and this one, which was for diagnosing and treating physical ailments specific to illnesses and injuries. There were also a handful of smaller buildings dotted across the campus, like the apothecaries’ workshop, the quarantine block, the morgue, and the healer residences. Only the main infirmaries were accessible to the public, all connected by outdoor pathways with arched stone sides offering views of the gardens at the center of the grounds. The Silverthorn Sanctuary, as those gardens were known—a place where patients and healers could retreat and relax, enjoying the tranquility of the bubbling brook and aromatic wildflowers all from atop a hill that overlooked the city, straight down to where the meandering Serin River met the Tetran Sea.
      It was to the sanctuary that Kiva headed once she left the largest of the infirmaries, walking along the stone path a short way before stepping off it, her sandals sinking into the lush grass, the late afternoon sunshine warming the chill from her bones. She kept moving aimlessly until she reached a small footbridge affording safe passage over the trickling stream, pausing to lean on the wooden railing in an attempt to gather her thoughts.
      “Uh-oh, you’re wearing your serious face.”
      Kiva stilled at the familiar voice, ignoring how it made her feel—all that it made her feel. She braced herself and turned to see the approaching figure just as he came close enough to stop beside her.
      Jaren Vallentis—or Prince Deverick, as most of the world knew him. Her fellow escaped inmate, her traveling companion, her once-friend—and once-potentially-more-than-that—and her family’s sworn enemy.
      Her sworn enemy.
      “This is my normal face,” Kiva said, struggling not to stare. His deep blue shirt with gold embroidery along the collar looked far too good on him, as did his tailored black jacket and pants. It took a supreme effort of will for her to cast her gaze away.
      “Yes, and it’s much too serious,” Jaren stated, reaching out to tuck a strand of dark, windswept hair behind her ear.
      Kiva’s stomach gave a traitorous leap, and she frowned inwardly at herself. Casual affection from Jaren wasn’t uncommon. Even when they’d been in Zalindov together, he’d been overly friendly toward her. Since they’d escaped, Kiva had sought to keep him at arm’s length, but her will was beginning to crumble. It was as if he’d been born for the sole purpose of tempting her, of distracting her from her task.
      And that was unacceptable.
      “Did you have a good day?” he asked, his unique blue-gold eyes capturing hers.
      Kiva smoothed her outfit—a simple green dress paired with a thin white cardigan—and weighed her response. Jaren was the reason she was even at Silverthorn; he’d called in a favor, resulting in her being awakened at dawn and bustled out of the River Palace for the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to spend a day at the best healing academy in the kingdom.
      There were so many reasons for Kiva to hate the crown prince, but she couldn’t summon the burning resentment that should have consumed her. She blamed Jaren for that. From the moment they’d met, he’d been caring and thoughtful and wholly devoted to her. Even when she’d learned that he’d lied about who he really was, she still hadn’t been able to turn her back and leave him to die of his injuries down in the tunnels beneath Zalindov. She’d tried—desperately—to harden her heart toward him in the weeks they’d spent at his family’s palace in the Tanestra Mountains, and then during their long days of travel to Vallenia, but it was useless. He was just too gods-damned likeable. It made everything Kiva planned to do to him and his family that much more difficult.
      Not that she’d ever admit as much—even to herself.
      “It was . . .” she started, unsure how to answer. Her day had been amazing, incredible, everything she’d ever hoped for. But knowing what she did about her future, and how she would have to turn down Maddis’s offer, all she said was, “Interesting.”
      Jaren’s golden eyebrows inched upward. “A glowing commendation.”
      Kiva ignored his sarcasm and asked, “What’re you doing here?”
      There was no one near where they stood leaning against the footbridge, but she still peered nervously at those spaced further out in the sanctuary, and the spattering of people walking along the arched stone pathways between the infirmaries.
      “I came to pick you up,” Jaren said with a merry wink. “First day of school, and all that.”
      Kiva shook her head at him. “You shouldn’t be here.”
      “Ouch,” Jaren said, pressing a hand to his heart. “That hurts. Right here.”
      “If someone recognizes you—”
      Jaren had the audacity to chuckle. “People in Vallenia are used to me and my family wandering freely among them. We only wear masks during special events, so we’re easily recognizable the rest of the time. Don’t worry—we’re not as much of a novelty as you’d think.”
      “I doubt Naari would agree with you,” Kiva argued, looking past him. “Where is she?”
      Since leaving Zalindov—and in the time they’d been there together—it was rare to see Jaren without his most loyal Royal Guard, his Golden Shield. That Naari Arell was absent now meant one of two things: either she was giving them space and watching from a distance, or—
      “Would you be impressed if I said I managed to give her the slip?”
      The self-satisfied grin Jaren wore had Kiva tilting her head to the side, a smirk playing at her lips as she replied, “I’d be impressed if you managed to survive her wrath afterward.”
      Jaren’s grin fled, a wince taking its place. “Yes. Well.” He straightened his shoulders and rallied. “That’s a problem for later.”
      “I’ll say something nice at your funeral,” Kiva promised.
      Jaren huffed out a laugh. “You’re too kind.” He then grabbed her hand and started leading her back toward the arched pathway. “Come on, we have to get moving if we don’t want to miss it.”
      Kiva tried to free herself from his grip, but his fingers only tightened around hers, so she gave in, resolutely ignoring how nice it felt, and sought to keep up with his long strides. “Miss what?”
      “Sunset,” Jaren answered.
      When he said no more, Kiva dryly observed, “This may come as a shock, but there’ll be another one tomorrow.”
      Jaren gave her a gentle tug. “Smart ass.” The amused look he shot her warmed her insides—and that she ignored, too.
      She was ignoring a lot these days, when it came to Jaren.
      “The annual River Festival kicks off at sunset today,” he said. “It lasts all weekend, but the first night is always the best, so we want to make sure we have a good view.”
      “Of what?”
      “You’ll see,” Jaren said mysteriously.
      Kiva made a quick decision. She would allow herself one more night—a night to experience the River Festival and enjoy being in Jaren’s company, knowing that their days together were numbered.
      One night, and then she would set out for Oakhollow, where she would finally follow through with what she’d determined upon leaving Zalindov.
      No matter how she might feel, no matter how the crown prince had wormed his way into her heart, it was time for the Vallentis family to fall.

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#Review - The Prison Healer by Lynette Noni #YA #Fantasy

Series: The Prison Healer # 1
Format: Hardcover, 416 pages
Release Date: April 13, 2021
Publisher: HMH Books for Young Readers
Source: Publisher
Genre: Young Adult / Dark Fantasy

Seventeen-year-old Kiva Meridan has spent the last ten years fighting for survival in the notorious death prison, Zalindov, working as the prison healer.

When the Rebel Queen is captured, Kiva is charged with keeping the terminally ill woman alive long enough for her to undergo the Trial by Ordeal: a series of elemental challenges against the torments of air, fire, water, and earth, assigned to only the most dangerous of criminals.

Then a coded message from Kiva’s family arrives, containing a single order: “Don’t let her die. We are coming.” Aware that the Trials will kill the sickly queen, Kiva risks her own life to volunteer in her place. If she succeeds, both she and the queen will be granted their freedom.

But no one has ever survived.

With an incurable plague sweeping Zalindov, a mysterious new inmate fighting for Kiva’s heart, and a prison rebellion brewing, Kiva can’t escape the terrible feeling that her trials have only just begun.

 

The Prison Healer, by author Lynette Noni, is the first installment in the authors Prison Healer trilogy. 10 years ago, at the age of 7, Kiva Meridan and her father were arrested and sent to Zalindov Prison for treason. Her father was the prison healer until he died which meant that Kiva took his place. Kiva is considered to be loyal to Warden Rooke which makes her a traitor, a spy, an informant, and other not so nice names in the eyes of the prisoners as well as the guards. She's not trusted by the prison rebels led by Cresta who takes every chance she can get to make Ziva's life miserable.

 

Even though there's no such evidence in the book, Kiva has been abused in the past. She's literally got the scars to prove it and the guards truly believe that she's a honey pot for the Warden. Being the prison healer has been her saving grace. She has survived as many around her have perished due to the awful conditions and brutal prison guards. Being sent to Zalindov is a death sentence. Nobody has ever escaped, or attempted to break in to rescue someone within the prison. All condemned of all the surrounding kingdoms are sent here.

 

When a new prisoner named Jaren arrives, Kiva finds that things start changing. Jaren isn't like the rest of the inmates. He seems to be from a high standing family. What's even more curious is that there is a new female guard, Naari, who seems to have Kiva's best interest at heart as well as a connection to Jaren. She also has a young boy named Tipp who does odds and ends for her. Tipp was born in the prison and thus is being protected by Kiva as a promise to his mother. Then a woman known as the Rebel Queen arrives at the prison and Ziva is ordered to make sure she lives.

 

Tilda Corentine, aka the Rebel Queen, has been sentenced by the Royal family to face the Trial by Ordeal, a series of elemental challenges reserved for the worst of criminals. If they succeed, they prove their innocence and walk free of the prison. If they fail, they’re already dead. In the 10 years since she's been here, Kiva has allegedly been sending and receiving messages to what appears to be her family that somehow managed to escape. Out of the blue, a message arrives telling Kiva not to let Tilda die, that they are coming. 

 

With impossible chances of survival, Kiva takes on Tilda's sentencing as the older woman is in no state to do it herself. If she manages to survive the four step trial, she could earn her freedom. To make matters more twisted, something is happening within the prison that is killing the prisoners. Kiva has no clue what is happening and each time she gets closer to an answer, nothing makes any sense. There's no way I am going to go any further in my review for fear of spoiling the rest of the book. I will say this, I do urge you to read this book. 

 

It's an exceptionally good story with a group of four characters that come together in the time of need. I liked Kiva. She's doing whatever she can to be the best healer she can be and indeed her resources whilst obviously limited added a lot to help set the scene. It is fair to say that there are a few characters who are not what they seem which should have given me a heads up that the ending will blow my mind. It did. I can't even fathom what happened without putting out glaring spoilers that will shock anyone who reads it. I am glad that the author and publisher don't plan to drag out this trilogy for 3 years. Instead, The Gilded Cage will release this fall, and the finale will release in the Spring of 2022. 

Chapter One

Looking down at the boy strapped to the metal table before her, Kiva Meridan leaned in close and whispered, “Take a deep breath.”
Before he could blink, she braced his wrist and stabbed the tip of her white-hot blade into the back of his hand. He screamed and thrashed against her—they always did—but she tightened her grip and continued carving three deep lines into his flesh, forming a Z.
A single character to identify him as a prisoner at Zalindov.
The wound would heal, but the scar would remain forever.
Kiva worked as fast as she could and only eased her grip once the carving was complete. She repressed the urge to tell him that the worst had passed. While barely a teenager, he was still old enough to discern the truth from lies. He belonged to Zalindov now, the metal band around his wrist labeling him as inmate H67L129. There was nothing good in his future—lying would do him no favors.
After smearing ballico sap across his bleeding flesh to stave off infection, then dusting it with pepperoot ash to ease his pain, Kiva wrapped his hand in a scrap of linen. She quietly warned him to keep it dry and clean for the next three days, all too aware that it would be impossible if he was allocated work in the tunnels, on the farms, or in the quarry.
“Hold still, I’m nearly done,” Kiva said, swapping her blade for a pair of shears. They were speckled with rust, but the edges were sharp enough to cut through steel.
The boy was shaking, fear dilating his pupils, his skin pale.
Kiva didn’t offer him any reassurances, not while the armed woman standing at the door to the infirmary watched her every move. Usually she was given a degree of privacy, working without the added pressure of the guards’ cold, keen eyes. But after the riot last week, they were on edge, monitoring everyone closely—even those like Kiva who were considered loyal to the Warden of Zalindov, a traitor to her fellow prisoners. An informant. A spy.
No one loathed Kiva more than she did herself, but she couldn’t regret her choices, regardless of the cost.
Ignoring the whimpers now coming from the boy as she moved toward his head, Kiva began to hack at his hair in short, sharp motions. She remembered her own arrival at the prison a decade earlier, the humiliating process of being stripped down, scrubbed, and shorn. She’d left the infirmary with raw skin and no hair, an itchy gray tunic and matching pants her only possessions. Despite all she’d been through at Zalindov, those early hours of degradation were some of the worst she could recall. Thinking about them now had her own scar giving a pang of recollected pain, drawing her eyes to the band she wore beneath it. N18K442—her identification number—was etched into the metal, a constant reminder that she was nothing and no one, that saying or doing the wrong thing, even looking at the wrong person at the wrong time, could mean her death.
Zalindov showed no mercy, not even to the innocent.
Especially not to the innocent.
Kiva had been barely seven years old when she’d first arrived, but her age hadn’t protected her from the brutality of prison life. She more than anyone knew that her breaths were numbered. No one survived Zalindov. It was only a matter of time before she joined the multitudes who had gone before her.
She was lucky, she knew, compared to many. Those assigned to the hard labor rarely lasted six months. A year, at most. But she’d never had to suffer through such debilitating work. In the early weeks after her arrival, Kiva had been allocated a job in the entrance block, where she’d sorted through the clothes and possessions taken from new inmates. Later, when a different position had needed filling—due to a lethal outbreak that took hundreds of lives—she was sent to the workrooms and tasked with cleaning and repairing the guards’ uniforms. Her fingers had bled and blistered from the unending laundry and needlecraft, but even then, she’d had little reason to complain, comparatively.
Kiva had been dreading the order for her to join the laborers, but the summons never came. Instead, after saving the life of a guard with a blood infection by advising him to use a poultice she’d seen her father make countless times, she had earned herself a place in the infirmary as a healer. Nearly two years later, the only other inmate working in the infirmary was executed for smuggling angeldust to desperate prisoners, leaving the then twelve-year-old Kiva to step into his role. With it came the responsibility of carving Zalindov’s symbol into the new arrivals, something that, to this day, Kiva despised. However, she knew that if she refused to mark them, both she and the new prisoners would suffer the wrath of the guards. She’d learned that early on—and bore the scars on her back as a reminder. She would have been flogged to death had there been anyone skilled enough to replace her at the time. Now, however, there were others who could take up her mantle.
She was expendable, just like everyone else at Zalindov.
The boy’s hair was a choppy mess when Kiva finally set the shears aside and reached for the razor. Sometimes it was enough to just cut away the tangles; other times, new arrivals came with matted, lice-infested locks, and it was best to shave it all off, rather than risk a plague of the small beasts spreading around the compound.
“Don’t worry, it’ll grow back,” Kiva said gently, thinking of her own hair, black as night, that had been shorn upon her arrival yet now fell well down her back.
Despite her attempted comfort, the boy continued trembling, making it harder for her to avoid grazing him as she swiped the razor over his scalp.
Kiva wanted to tell him what he would face once he left the infirmary, but even if the guard hadn’t been watching closely from the doorway, she knew that wasn’t her place. New prisoners were partnered with another inmate for their first few days, and it was that person’s responsibility to offer an introduction to Zalindov, to share warnings and reveal ways to stay alive. If, of course, that was desired. Some people arrived wanting to die, their hope already crumbled before they stepped through the iron gates and into the soulless limestone walls.
Kiva hoped this boy still had some fight left in him. He would need it to get through all that was coming.
“Done,” she said, lowering the razor and stepping around to face him. He looked younger without his hair, all wide eyes, hollowed cheeks, and protruding ears. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
The boy stared at her as if she were one move away from slitting his throat. It was a look she was used to, especially from new arrivals. They didn’t know she was one of them, a slave to Zalindov’s whim. If he lived long enough, he would find his way to her again and discover the truth: that she was on his side and would help him in any way she could. Just like she helped all the others, inasmuch as she could.
“Finished?” called the guard at the door.
Kiva’s hand tightened around the razor before she forced her fingers to relax. The last thing she needed was for the guard to sense any spark of rebellion in her.
Impassive and submissive—that was how she survived.
Many of the prisoners mocked her for it, especially those who had never needed her care. Zalindov’s Bitch, some of them called her. The Heartless Carver, others hissed when she walked by. But the worst, perhaps, was the Princess of Death. She couldn’t blame them for seeing her that way, and that was why she hated it the most. The truth was, many prisoners who entered the infirmary never came out again, and that was on her.
“Healer?” the guard called again, this time more forcefully. “Are you finished?”
Kiva gave a short nod, and the armed woman left her spot at the door and ventured into the room.
Female guards were a rarity at Zalindov. For every twenty men, there was perhaps one woman, and they seldom remained at the prison long before seeking posts elsewhere. This guard was new, someone Kiva had noticed for the first time a few days ago, her watchful amber eyes cool and detached in her youthful face. Her skin was two shades lighter than the blackest black, indicating that she hailed from Jiirva or perhaps Hadris, both kingdoms renowned for their skilled warriors. Her hair was cropped close to her scalp, and from one ear dangled a jade tooth earring. That wasn’t smart; someone could easily rip it out. Then again, she carried herself with a quiet confidence, her dark guard uniform—a long-sleeved leather tunic, pants, gloves, and boots—barely concealing the wiry muscles beneath. It would be a rare prisoner who was willing to mess with this young woman, and any who did would likely find themselves on a one-way trip to the morgue.
Swallowing at the thought, Kiva stepped backwards as the guard approached, giving the boy an encouraging squeeze of his shoulder as she moved past. He flinched so violently that she immediately regretted it.
“I’ll just”—Kiva indicated the pile of discarded clothes that the boy had worn before changing into his gray prison garb—“take these to the entrance block for sorting.”
This time it was the guard who nodded, before setting her amber eyes on the boy and ordering, “Come.”
The scent of his fear permeated the air as he rose on wobbling legs, cradling his wounded hand with the other, and followed the guard from the room.
He didn’t look back.
They never did.
Kiva waited until she was certain she was alone before she moved. Her motions were quick and practiced, but with a frantic urgency, her eyes flicking to and from the door with awareness that if she was caught, then she was dead. The Warden had other informants within the prison; he might favor Kiva, but that wouldn’t keep her from punishment—or execution.
As she rifled through the pile of clothes, her nose wrinkled at the unpleasant smells of long travel and poor hygiene. She ignored the touch of something wet on her hand, the mold and mud and other things she’d rather not identify. She was searching for something. Searching, searching, searching.
She ran her fingers down the boy’s pants but found nothing, so she moved to his linen shirt. It was threadbare, some places ripped and others patched up. Kiva inspected all the stitching, but still there was nothing, and she began to lose heart. But then she reached for his weathered boots, and there it was. Slipped down the damaged, gaping seam of the left boot was a small piece of folded parchment.
With shaking fingers, Kiva unfolded it and read the coded words contained within.
Kiva released a whoosh of air, her shoulders drooping with relief as she mentally translated the code: We are safe. Stay alive. We will come.
It had been three months since Kiva had last heard from her family. Three months of checking the clothing of new, oblivious prisoners, hoping for any scrap of information from the outside world. If not for the charity of the stablemaster, Raz, she would have had no means of communicating with those she loved most. He risked his life to sneak the notes through Zalindov’s walls to her, and despite their rarity—and brevity—they meant the world to Kiva.
We are safe. Stay alive. We will come.
The same eight words and other similar offerings had arrived sporadically over the last decade, always when Kiva needed to hear them the most.
We are safe. Stay alive. We will come.
The middle part was easier said than done, but Kiva would do as she was told, certain her family would one day fulfill their promise to come for her. No matter how many times they wrote the words, no matter how long she’d already waited, she held on to their declaration, repeating it over and over in her mind: We will come. We will come. We will come.
One day, she would be with her family again. One day, she would be free of Zalindov, a prisoner no longer.
For ten years, she had been waiting for that day.
But every week that passed, her hope dwindled more and more.

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