Lord of the White Hell Book One

Chapter Twenty

Kiram arrived at the city stables late but not far behind the bulk of the second-year students. Master Ignacio hardly seemed to take notice, only giving him a hard disapproving glare as he hurried past. Kiram wasn't sure if Master Ignacio was feeling generous towards him for his success in the fencing ring or if the war master was simply too angry with the student who arrived drunk to care about Kiram's tardiness.

The drunken student was held down in a horse trough until Kiram thought he might actually drown. Then he was hauled out, dripping wet, and dragged away by two grooms to do penance in the city chapel.

Kiram quickly took his place beside Nestor among the second-year students in the stable yard. He glimpsed Javier ahead of him, standing next to Elezar, but couldn't seem to catch his attention. Elezar playfully punched Javier in the shoulder several times, until Javier retaliated.

"I was worried when Javier showed up alone," Nestor said.

"I bumped into my uncle and spent the afternoon with him."

"Oh, that must have been nice." Nestor suddenly frowned. "Is something wrong? You look rather angry."

"I thought my uncle of all people would understand but he didn't. He wants me to leave the academy. He doesn't think I'll be safe here."

"What? No, you can't go!" Nestor frowned deeply. "You've just gotten settled in. Damn it, Kiram, I don't want you to leave!"

"I don't want me to leave either."

"We'll have to convince your uncle that you're just as safe here as you would be at home."

But he wasn't as safe. He couldn't be. Back in Anacleto he would be smothered in security. His family and neighbors insulated him in the familiar and only the most decent Haldiim socialized with him. Nowhere could be as safe as his mother's house back in Anacleto, where he would be shut away from the rest of the world.

"Maybe my mother could talk to your uncle." Nestor seemed to consider the thought for a moment and then shook his head. "Probably not. She'll end up explaining how battle and injury bring men closer to the true faith. That probably wouldn't mean much to a Haldiim."

"Not my uncle, no." Kiram scowled down at the dirt. Next to him Nestor hung his head.

"When do you have to leave?" Nestor asked dejectedly.

"After the tournament." Kiram glanced back towards Javier and discovered that his attention was returned. For a moment, Javier seemed about to break away from the other third-year students and come to him but then Elezar grabbed Javier's neck and after that all of his attention turned to wrestling out of Elezar's grip.

"So, we've got a week to change your uncle's mind." Nestor continued his strategizing. "Do you think a fellow physician like Scholar Donamillo could convince him?"

"I don't know if anything is going to change his mind." Suddenly Kiram felt like he couldn't stand to dwell on the hopelessness of it for another moment, so he changed the subject. "How did it go with the girl, Yellow Butterflies?"

A flush spread across Nestor's cheeks.

"I'm in love," he said very quietly and very seriously. "Her name is Riossa Arevillo. She draws really well and she loved the Mirogoth shapechanger. And she wants to meet you."

Nestor's afternoon had been so different from his own. At least one of them had enjoyed the day.

"She sounds nice," Kiram said and he meant it.

Nestor's lovestruck expression slipped suddenly into one of melancholy. "I thought today was going to be the happiest day of my life, but now you're going to be taken out of the academy. It just doesn't seem fair."

"It's not," Kiram agreed. He couldn't make himself accept the thought of abandoning Javier and Fedeles to Prince Nugalo. "But what choice do I have? Even if I refuse to go, Rafie would only have to tell my mother that the academy is dangerous and she'll withdraw my tuition."

Master Ignacio shouted out for silence and all conversations immediately ended. Elezar even stopped taking playful swipes at Javier and stood at attention with the rest of the students.

Master Ignacio paced along the long rows of the gathered students, taking roll and demanding to know where they intended to spend the night in the city. Those who didn't answer quickly enough or whose responses he didn't like were assigned beds at the church hostel.

Atreau wasn't even allowed to get his answer fully articulated before Master Ignacio assigned him to the church hostel. The majority of the students were staying with their families, many of whom owned townhouses in Zancoda, which were maintained specifically for the yearly tournaments.

The Grunito family owned one, as did the Helio and Quemanor. There was even a Tornesal townhouse, though only one Tornesal remained to occupy it.

Kiram wondered how Master Ignacio would respond to the idea of one of his students boarding at an inn like the Laughing Dog. For an instant Kiram smirked, imagining the Master's dilemma of either accepting a shoddy inn at the edge of the city or having to assign a Haldiim to a church bed.

Nestor's turn came.

"I'll be at the Grunito townhouse with my-"

"Fine," Master Ignacio cut him off, moving on to Kiram. "And you?"

"I.I'll be staying with upperclassman Javier at the Tornesal townhouse," Kiram said in a rush of defiance. Never in his life had he been so disobedient as to disregard one of his uncle's directives, but he had to warn Javier about Holy Father Habalan as soon as possible.

Immune to the momentous nature of Kiram's decision, Master Ignacio simply nodded, jotted it down in the roll book and moved on.

Once all the students' future whereabouts had been established, Master Ignacio announced that he expected all of them back at the city stables tomorrow morning before first morning bell, adding that if he discovered any of them out on the city streets after eighth bell this evening, he would personally beat them to a pulp. After that Master Ignacio dismissed them to their lodgings for the evening. Kiram and Nestor jostled through the crowd to meet up with Javier and Elezar. Outside, carriages lined the street and groups of students crammed into them to share fares to their lodgings.

"I thought you would stay with your uncle," Javier said.

Kiram could see that he was trying, unsuccessfully, to hide an arrogant smile. Javier clearly gloried in the fact that Kiram had chosen his company. His triumphant pleasure verged on egotism and yet Kiram found him charming.

And that made him feel even more depressed.

"Kiram's uncle is pulling him out of the academy!" Nestor announced, before Kiram could reply.

"What?" Javier's pleased expression collapsed.

"Rafie thinks it's too dangerous for me here." Kiram's throat felt tight. Just saying the words made him feel like he was already leaving, as if it was inevitable.

"Well, that's a hard lump of shit to swallow." Elezar sighed and shook his head as though he had expected something like this to happen. "Just because you got a little cut on your arm?"

"It's not just that but I'm sure it didn't help." Kiram glanced to Javier, but couldn't read any emotion in his expression now. His features seemed set as perfectly as those of a statue.

"God forbid you ever fall down and break a bone," Elezar said. "Your uncle would probably lock you up in your room for the rest of your life."

"There's got to be some way we can change his mind," Nestor protested.

"I don't know." Kiram had expected Javier to rail against this-not just expected, but wanted it. Instead, Javier stared silently at the street ahead, frowned slightly, and then looked to Elezar.

"Are you two taking a carriage to the Grunito townhouse?"

"No, we have to meet our mother at the chapel." Elezar made a sour face. "You coming?"

"Not tonight. My bailiff is expecting me at the townhouse. Give your mother my apologies."

"Sure," Elezar replied. Then, to Kiram, "Sorry you're getting pulled out. At least you'll have one glorious tournament to your name before you go."

Kiram nodded somewhat numbly. Nestor looked like he would say something but Elezar caught his shoulder.

"Come on, you." Elezar gave Nestor an appraising look as they began towards the nearest carriage. "I hear you met a girl."

"The Tornesal townhouse isn't far." Javier didn't look at Kiram, but instead turned and strode along the raised walkway, forcing Kiram to rush to catch up with him, though once he reached Javier's side he found he had nothing to say that could be said in public, so they walked together in silence.

The Tornesal townhouse stood out from the other nobles' townhouses by virtue of both its size, which was immense, and its simplicity. Onyx inlays of black suns decorated the white marble walls but there were no ornately carved sconces, nor any golden filigree. Surrounded by wildly decorated pleasure houses, it looked grim and ancient. The massive doors, with their iron reinforcements and the narrow windows, remained from an age when peasant riots were common and livestock was kept indoors.

The moment Javier approached the doors two servants in black and white piebald liveries pulled them open.

"Welcome home, Lord Tornesal." The doormen greeted Javier in unison. Javier didn't acknowledge either of them nor did they seem to expect him to, though they both glanced sidelong at Kiram as he followed Javier into the brilliant light of the house.

Inside, hundreds of candles blazed from iron candelabras and the white stone walls seemed to glow with the light. In the entry room, three more serving men greeted Javier respectfully and bowed deeply to him. They peered at Kiram as if he was some kind of strange curiosity, but said nothing to him. One of them bowed out of the room but the other two lingered, occupied by replacing several guttered candles.

Javier abruptly stopped and pivoted around, startling Kiram backward. "I have to meet with my bailiff and with one of my bankers. I didn't think you'd be staying here with me so I scheduled most of the evening with them. You can entertain yourself for a little while, can't you?"

"Yss, but after that I need to talk to you. Alone." His lowered voice seemed to boom through the open space. He felt the presence of the serving men too intensely.

"I'll try to hurry things up. We could take dinner together in an hour or so," Javier said.

"Sounds fine."

Then Javier called one of the servants to him and directed the servants to escort Kiram around the townhouse. When the servant asked what room Kiram would be using for the night Kiram quickly suggested that he'd be happy to share Lord Tornesal's room.

"I realize you weren't expecting me and I don't want to cause all the trouble of preparing another room," he explained more for the servant's sake than to convince Javier.

"Of course, you won't have to spend the night on the floor in my room. This isn't the academy, after all." The frustration in Javier's voice was palpable. "The green room should do. It's near the library."

Javier took his leave and the servant led Kiram on a brief tour of the townhouse. Most of the huge structure was closed up. Furniture was covered, carpets rolled away and fireplaces had been cleaned and sealed up to keep out bats. Nothing was so unkempt as to seem abandoned but a sense of emptiness pervaded the house. Entire suites seemed like preserved historical specimens.

At one time the building had to have been inhabited by more than just staff. Once the Tornesal family had occupied the halls and numerous entertaining rooms. Someone had played the harpsichord in the music room and no doubt many members of the family had sat at the card table.

But now Javier was left alone with this edifice of a house and its huge, desperately attentive staff, who occupied themselves obsessively with the vast minutiae of sweeping, dusting and polishing every surface of the place.

Kiram glanced to the hollow-faced saint chiseled over a stone doorway and absently thought that he'd been told about that particular style of sculpture. Had it ended just before King Nazario's death? He couldn't remember.

He was escorted to the second floor past the library to the green room, which turned out to be a large suite with slit windows that overlooked a small herb garden. The bed was hard and cold, but the deep green linens on it smelled freshly laundered. There was a bath and Kiram used it.

Afterwards he was loath to dress in his old clothes. Instead he wrapped a towel around his waist and lay back on the bed. A fire blazed in the hearth and Kiram stared up a the ceiling, feeling troubled and at the same time too exhausted to do more than lie there and watch the shadows dance above him.

His arm hurt. His head ached. He closed his eyes and if he slept he didn't dream, but when he opened his eyes the room had darkened. Outside, he could hear rain falling.

"We should run away," Kiram murmured to himself.

"Where would we go?" a quiet voice responded. Javier leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, skin luminous in the dim, golden light. He'd washed recently and his hair was glossy black.

Kiram asked, "How long have you been there?"

"Not too long." Javier sounded weary. "I was enjoying the view."

"You should have woken me up." A slight breeze fluttered through the room and suddenly he became aware that the towel must have slipped off his hips. Javier watched, with a smile as Kiram reached for but did not replace the towel. He felt a confusing mixture of embarrassment and pleasure at being so ardently observed. Then he heard someone clomping up the stairs and quickly covered himself.

"My valet, bringing clothes for you to wear to dinner," Javier explained.

A moment later, an old man bowed past Javier and laid out the suit of fresh clothes. The pants, jacket and vest were all Tornesal black but not servant's dress. Silver threads decorated the silk vest and the white shirt was flawless linen. The trousers were silk as were the stockings. The clothes fit him decently, but had obviously belonged to someone with broader shoulders and thicker thighs.

Javier watched him dress and the valet waited, pretending to watch nothing. But when Kiram caught the older man's gaze flicker to Javier's face and then to Kiram's own body, he missed a button of the vest and had to unbutton it and start again.

"These clothes are much too nice. They look like they belonged to a prince," Kiram said, as if it were an excuse for his flustered clumsiness.

Javier replied, "They're too small for me anymore. And they suit you."

The valet gave Javier a narrow, disapproving glance, as if he felt that the clothes would have been better suited for a pig to wear than Kiram.

If Javier noticed the look, he paid no attention to it. "Tornesal black is drab on most men but you make it seem magnificent."

The valet lowered his eyes, apparently engrossed in the marble floor.

Kiram couldn't believe that Javier would say such a thing while another man was standing in the room with them. Was he drunk?

Javier swaggered forward to brush some minuscule speck of dust off Kiram's shoulder and gave him a smile. "Now that you're suitably attired, shall we go down to dinner, Underclassman Kiram?"

The ebony inlayed dinner table had clearly been made for gatherings of more than a dozen diners. Even sitting across from Javier, the width of the table made it impossible to whisper to him. And yet, Kiram didn't dare to raise his voice in front of the constant stream of servants that circulated between the kitchen and the table.

They brought small, exquisite foods in ornate dishes. Kiram sampled tender cutlets of veal, rich cream sauces and sharp greens served with fragrant orange and lemon dressing. The food was delicious and yet Kiram hardly ate more than a few bites. Javier ate nothing; he drank a milky, white liqueur from a cut crystal glass and watched Kiram.

"Aren't you hungry?" Kiram asked.

"I'm not as interested in food as I am in getting drunk."

"You shouldn't," Kiram said.

"Maybe not, but I'm going to if I can."

"I need to talk to you." Kiram couldn't help but lower his voice.

"So, talk," Javier said.

A servant slid a plate of pork loin medallions and blood orange segments in front of Kiram. Another servant removed the bowl of soup that Kiram had hardly tasted. A third refilled Javier's glass. Their relentless attention made Kiram uncomfortable. Any of them could be spies for Prince Nugalo or his man on the hill.

"I don't trust these servants," Kiram said in Haldiim. He scanned the men's faces for any sign that they understood his words. Most of them seemed to take no notice at all. Only the man refilling Javier's glass seemed to be listening and he just looked confused. Emboldened, Kiram continued, "I need to tell you what I found out about the curse that's been placed on your family."

"All right, tell me." Javier pronounced his words slowly. His accent was very strong, but Kiram was delighted to see that his suspicion about Javier's fluency in Haldiim had been correct.

"My uncle's partner and several other Bahiim tracked the Tornesal curse down to the academy. Someone there is using the shadow of an ancient Haldiim curse called the Old Rage to destroy your family. They think it's an agent of the royal bishop's-"

"Slow down. You're talking too fast for me," Javier said in Cadeleonian.

"A man at the Sagrada Academy is responsible for the curse. The Bahiim think he's an agent for the royal bishop, probably Holy Father Habalan." Kiram spoke as clearly and evenly as he could.

Javier seized his glass and swallowed what remained of the milky white liqueur within. When he set the glass down, the servant refilled it again.

"Is your uncle taking you away because of me?" Javier asked at last.

"Yes," Kiram admitted.

"Does you uncle's partner know how to lift the curse?"

"Maybe." Kiram gazed at his dish of pork and the dark blood oranges. "But the Bahiim can't interfere. They have to be invited to do so by the royal bishop."

Javier laughed at this but in a hard, angry way.

"So, it's hopeless," Javier said in Cadeleonian. "You're leaving me and it's hopeless."

"We could go to Yuan." Kiram couldn't keep the slight quaver of fear out of his voice. He had no idea how they would get there or how they would survive, but if Javier said yes, then he would go. He'd go tonight.

Javier's dark eyes glittered like polished obsidian. Then he bowed his head and his black hair fell over his face.

"I can't leave Fedeles." Javier drained his glass. "And it wouldn't matter if I did, because the curse would follow me. Your uncle is probably right. You will be better off in Anacleto."

"No, I won't," Kiram snapped.

"Yes, you will," Javier said it like it was an order. He slammed his glass against the table. The servant poured the last of the liqueur into his glass and Javier swallowed it like medicine then stood up slowly, swaying on his feet. "Well, it looks like I managed to get drunk after all. It's not easy, you know. The white hell burns the alcohol out of my body like a poison. It never lasts long enough." Javier absently ran his finger along the rim of his empty glass. "It never lasts."

Something in Javier's tone alarmed Kiram. He pushed his plate aside and rushed to Javier's side.

"Are you all right?"

"Not really, no." Javier leaned against him and draped an arm over Kiram's shoulder. The heat of his body radiated through Kiram's clothes. "I'm blind drunk and talking to myself. The least you could do is offer to take me to my bed, don't you think?"

Kiram didn't miss the hunger in Javier's voice, nor did he think that it was a coincidence that Javier got drunk enough to need help getting to bed.

"Should I summon the footmen to assist His Lordship?" a servant asked.

"No," Kiram answered. "I'll take him. Thank you."

Javier directed him to the master bedroom, which had the requisite spells inlayed in the floor. He stepped over them without concern and propped Javier up on the curtained bed.

"Close the door," Javier said quietly.

Kiram closed it and locked it. When he returned, Javier had already pulled off his jacket and was unbuttoning his shirt. His motions were fluid and graceful.

"You're not drunk at all, are you?" It seemed unbelievable, considering that he'd emptied an entire bottle in less than an hour.

"A little, but it'll burn off in a couple of minutes." Javier threw his shirt aside. He reached out and pulled Kiram close to him. "Stay with me tonight."

A rush of excitement surged through Kiram at the feel of Javier's hands finally on him. They might never have this chance again. He had already wasted so much of the time he had with Javier.

Kiram slid his arms around Javier's bare back, feeling the heat of his skin and the taut muscles beneath. Javier was so tense that he was almost trembling. He stared at Kiram, his dark eyes wide, his lips slightly parted. Kiram leaned in and kissed him. The taste of anise and alcohol passed from Javier's lips to Kiram's, the sensation both sweet and hot.

Kiram traced the tip of his tongue over Javier's lips. Javier's mouth opened to him and the heat of Javier's tongue touched and stroked his, the sensation soft and hard at once. The thrusts aroused a deep pang in Kiram's body.

As the kiss deepened, Javier's hands slipped under Kiram's shirt, stroking the small of his back, working against his belt. Kiram pulled back from the kiss, breaking them apart, though all he wanted was more. Breathlessly, Kiram pulled off his jacket, vest and shirt. Javier's hands caught the heavy buckle that held Kiram's belt closed. A tight ache pulsed through him as Javier removed the belt and began unfastening the pearl buttons of Kiram's pants.

Javier was so close that Kiram could feel his breath brush over every inch of his newly exposed flesh. As Javier's lips grazed the tender skin of Kiram's hip, heat and desire flooded Kiram's groin. He ached to pull Javier's mouth to him, but the tremor in Javier's hands made Kiram aware of how unfamiliar this must be for Javier. No doubt whores had gone down on their knees and pleased him but Kiram couldn't imagine Javier ever kneeling on the floor before another man.

"You don't have to-"

"I want to." Javier touched a curl of Kiram's blond pubic hair then slowly cupped Kiram's hot erection, his touch careful but not tentative. He bowed his head and took Kiram into his mouth. Waves of ecstasy rolled over Kiram, and he had to fight to keep his senses, to gently run his hands through Javier's hair and not grasp him too tightly or thrust hard into that wet heat.

When Javier drew back, catching his breath, Kiram almost swore out of frustrated longing. But Javier's hopeful expression touched Kiram even more deeply than his passion.

"Am I doing this right?" Javier asked.

"You're perfect," Kiram replied and it wasn't entirely a lie. What Javier lacked in experience he made up for with sheer desire. Kiram drew in a deep breath, wishing he could think clearly. All he wanted at that moment was his own satisfaction, but that was hardly fair to Javier. If this was his first time making love to another man then it ought to be more than this.

"Come to the bed," Kiram forced himself to step back. "The floor is too cold."

Despite the aching need pounding through his body, Kiram waited for Javier to completely undress and join him on the bed.

Javier was beautiful naked. Kiram had known as much for months but now the physical reality of it riveted him. The whiteness of Javier's skin allowed him to see even the minute pink blush that spread across his cheeks and colored his tight nipples. Javier's erection jutted up, straight and shockingly scarlet.

He watched Kiram intently and there was something in the way that his natural poise tempered his uncertainty so that even now he seemed proud.

"Lie here close to me," Kiram said.

They touched experimentally, stroking one another's skin, feeling the curves of ribs and the tension of muscles. Every nerve in Kiram's body craved contact. Even the softest caress of Javier's fingertips shot through him, down deep into his loins.

Kiram felt his breath coming too fast, his control slipping away as Javier stroked him. Kiram caught Javier's hand and lifted it away from his thigh. Javier looked momentarily worried, but his expression relaxed as Kiram kissed each of his fingers.

Kiram leaned forward, kissed his lips once gently and then flipped around so that his head rested against Javier's hip. He kissed Javier's flat stomach. Javier's breath caught and his muscles tightened in anticipation. Slowly Kiram took Javier's erection in his mouth. Javier gasped, his entire body flexing into Kiram.

Kiram gripped Javier's hips firmly, reminding him, almost as he would have reminded Firaj, that he would set their pace. Javier responded immediately, restraining his powerful thrusts.

Kiram pressed his own body closer to Javier's and a moment later Javier seemed to realize the opportunity the position offered. He tentatively nuzzled Kiram. The teasing brush of his breath, the contact and withdrawal of his lips drove Kiram half mad. But he waited for Javier to take him in his mouth again.

Javier's lips were soft, his tongue teasing, and his mouth hot and velvety. He echoed Kiram's hungry pressure, taking him slowly, but deeply. Their bodies rocked in a mounting rhythm. Kiram gave up control over his own driving thrusts and Javier's.

A desperate pleasure flooded Kiram. He could feel nothing but Javier, both in him and on him. The smell of him, the taste of him, the voracious heat of his mouth, sang through Kiram, engulfing his senses. He wanted more of Javier and yet he could hardly bear the wild shocks of ecstasy pounding through him.

Just as Kiram felt his senses burning beyond his endurance, Javier arched hard into him and a hot gush of semen spilled into Kiram's mouth. Kiram's own pleasure peaked with the exhilaration of taking so much of Javier's passion and control, feeling it surge into him and become his own, bursting into Javier's mouth.

Kiram rolled back, flopping against the ivory sheets. His heart pounded wildly. Heat radiated from Javier's body. While they both lay on the bed in spent silence, Javier's breathing slowed and grew steady. Kiram was suddenly aware of the sweat clinging to his skin. He shoved a damp coil of hair back from his face.

The dying fire in the hearth cast deep gold shadows across the room. Kiram stared up at the ceiling, watching the way the light flickered over the black invocations chiseled into the stones above, then he propped himself up onto his elbows and gazed at Javier, who lay with his eyes closed. He wore a deeply thoughtful expression as he slowly lifted his hand to touch his own flushed lips. Then he opened his eyes, studying Kiram's face intently, worried.

When Kiram smiled at him, overwhelming relief flooded Javier's expression. He pulled Kiram into a hard embrace.

Kiram held on with all his strength. "I'm not going to leave you. I won't."

"Of course you will. That's why you're here now giving me something to remember you by."

"No." Kiram withdrew only far enough to see Javier's face and Javier let him go. It had been Kiram's intention to have this night as a farewell but now that he had been so close to Javier he couldn't imagine letting him go so easily.

Javier didn't meet his eyes.

"You'll be safe with your family in Anacleto." Javier sat up and swung his legs off the bed, turning his back to Kiram.

"I don't care where I might be safe," Kiram growled. He grabbed Javier's shoulder. "I'm not leaving."

"How can you stay if your family decides to take you back to Anacleto?"

"I'll run away," Kiram decided. "I'll find somewhere to stay here and I'll work."

"No one in Zancoda is going to board or employ a runaway, underage Haldiim." Javier gently pushed a lock of Kiram's hair back from his face. "And even if someone did -if I kept you here-your family would find you. You don't exactly blend in with the populace of the city."

Kiram knew Javier was right, but he didn't care. He wrapped his arms around Javier, holding him tightly and then finally drawing him back down into the warmth of the bed.

The chain of Kiram's charm tangled with Javier's medallion and for a moment they occupied themselves working the two apart. For the first time Kiram noticed that the design of Javier's medallion, which he'd always thought was a sun, resembled the circle of lotus petals embossed into the face of his own charm.

"Is this a blessing?" Kiram asked.

Javier nodded. "My father gave it to me when he passed the white hell to me. It belonged to Calixto and was supposed to have protected him."

The gold was warm from Javier's body and heavy in Kiram's hand. He wished that he had the skill to press his own desire to protect Javier into the soft gold, but he wasn't a Bahiim. All he could do was wish deeply that somehow the two of them could find a way to stay together.

He carefully laid the medallion back against Javier's bare chest and settled beside him, relaxing into the comfort of Javier's nearness. They both slept.

When Kiram awoke he found that he liked the weight of Javier's thick thigh against his own. If he listened closely he could hear Javier release slow, deep breaths.

There was another sound as well-a cry rising through the patter of raindrops, distant but growing increasingly close.

Crows. He could hear them now, just outside the window. Despite the darkness and rain, the birds were flying and calling to each other. Or more than likely they were calling to some Bahiim.

Kiram sat up.

"What is it?" Javier asked. "Is your arm hurting?"

"No." Though in truth his arm ached deeply, but he had grown used to it, almost forgotten about it. "It's my uncle and his partner. I think they may be looking-"

Before Kiram could finish there was a loud rap at the locked door.

"I'm sleeping," Javier shouted, though the response came far too quickly and loudly to be believable.

"I beg your pardon, my lord." Kiram thought it was the same servant who had served Javier his liqueur. "There are two…men here, relations of your guest's. They seem to have some urgent news for him. I looked for him in his room but then I recalled that he had helped Your Lordship to bed."

Javier glared at the door and then glanced questioningly to Kiram. Kiram had no doubt that Javier would have Rafie and Alizadeh thrown out if Kiram wanted him to. He also knew that neither Rafie nor Alizadeh were likely to go quietly and a public spectacle was the last thing he wanted.

"I better go." Kiram started up but Javier caught his hand.

"We'll both go," Javier said softly, then, to his servant, "Show them to the sitting room. We'll be there directly."

"Very good, my lord."

They dressed quickly and in silence. Kiram wanted to again assure Javier that he wouldn't leave, and at the same time a fear crept through him that if he spoke he might be lying. He buttoned the vest Javier had given him, while Javier laced his boots. At the door, Kiram caught Javier's hand meaning only to offer a reassuring touch, but Javier immediately pulled him into his arms. They kissed deeply and desperately, as if they both knew that this opportunity would never come again.

Then they descended to the small sitting room, which was furnished with several plush chairs as well as a card table and harpsichord. Neither Rafie nor Alizadeh had taken a seat. They stood just a little apart from each other in front of the fire, both soaking wet. Straightened by water, Alizadeh's blonde hair hung nearly to his knees. Rafie glared at Kiram with an expression that was as much disappointment as anger, while Alizadeh maintained the calm countenance of a Bahiim, though Kiram noticed that his gaze lingered on Javier.

Javier studied Rafie and Alizadeh with the cool appraisal of a prince surveying a newly conquered land. Kiram had lived with him long enough now to know that this proud countenance was a reflex imparted by noble Cadeleonian upbringing. Even Nestor assumed the same upright posture when he was unsure of his surroundings. Javier resorted to it rarely. At this moment, however, his hard gaze and arrogant frown looked like they were carved from a column of white marble.

The room was silent except for the crackle of the fire. Then a quiet clink sounded as a footman placed a tray of porcelain mugs and a pitcher of mulled wine on the card table. Kiram had hardly noticed the footman when he and Javier had come in. The servant glanced nervously between Javier and the two rain-soaked Haldiim, bowed to Javier and then fled.

"I'm sorry that you had to venture out into such terrible weather," Javier said. "It must be a matter of some importance that brought you."

"We came to find Kiram." Rafie only gave Javier a cursory glance before turning his attention to his nephew. "I thought I was very clear when I told you to return to the Laughing Dog."

"That was my fault, I'm afraid," Javier replied. "I arranged with War Master Ignacio for Kiram to stay at the Tornesal townhouse."

"I mean no offense, Your Lordship," Rafie replied easily, "but Kiram knows his duty regardless of what others may have arranged for him. He knew we were expecting him and he chose not to return."

"I have decided to stay with Javier," Kiram said firmly.

"Do you have any idea of what you're saying?" Rafie demanded in Haldiim.

"Yes, and I mean it," Kiram replied. He tried to stop the slight quaver in his voice. He'd never seen Rafie look so angry. "He's my.friend and I'm staying with him."

"Your friend?" Rafie narrowed his eyes. "Musni is your friend. Hashiem is your friend. This man is some Cadeleonian you just met. Do you really expect me to let you risk your life at that snake pit of an academy just so you can ogle his firm ass and bulging cock?"

The sudden red flush that colored Javier's cheeks made it immediately obvious that he had understood Rafie's words, though Kiram was somewhat surprised at Javier's embarrassment. After all he said far more provocative things to his fellow Hellions every day before breakfast. But then, Kiram thought, Javier had never had the experience of being the subject of this sort of remark before.

"You discover so many new turns of phrase when you learn another language." Alizadeh gave Javier an almost warm smile.

"That's quite true," Javier replied.

"Did you know that the Mirogoths have a single word which means to put your foot into the excrement of an animal?"

"I didn't." Javier picked up two of the mugs of mulled wine and offered one to Alizadeh.

"That is not why we are here," Rafie snapped.

"No, it isn't." Alizadeh accepted the wine with a slight bow. "But it's late and the weather is foul. It seems a waste of energy to drag Kiram back through the mud and rain to the Laughing Dog. Especially when His Lordship seems so generous with his hospitality."

Alizadeh gave Javier a pointed look.

Javier seemed to grasp the opening being offered. "You are both welcome to stay here, if you like. I can have rooms prepared."

"We're all family. We can share Kiram's room," Alizadeh said. "We wouldn't want to put you out any further."

"Of course," Javier replied.

Rafie scowled but didn't argue. He grudgingly accepted a mug of mulled wine. Kiram took his from Javier, feeling obvious and foolish for being so aware of Javier's fingers as they brushed his hand. Javier stepped back from him self-consciously and sat down in one of the chairs. Kiram drifted towards the hearth.

"There's white pepper in this, isn't there?" Rafie took another sip of the mulled wine. Kiram knew from his tone that Rafie was trying to recover from his earlier gaffe and make the best of the situation.

"I think so," Javier replied. "It's hot enough, isn't it?"

"It's good." Rafie took another appreciative drink. "You wouldn't believe the things they'll serve a man on the Mirogoth border."

"Oh?" Javier asked and Rafie began to describe the numerous, unctuous drinks that he'd forced down his throat while traveling in the frozen north.

Kiram stole a quizzical glance at Alizadeh, wondering what had softened him towards Javier so suddenly. But Alizadeh had turned back towards the fire, his head slightly raised, studying the ceiling where the firelight flickered and cast deep shadows on the now familiar Tornesal invocations.

Alizadeh waved his hand just slightly and the firelight crackled and spat briefly. Suddenly the shadowy forms of the invocations were gone, and Kiram found himself gazing at a simple pattern of filigree.

"In Yuan," Alizadeh whispered to Kiram, "they have a word for a man who fights a darkness he cannot defeat."

"What is it?" Kiram asked.

"A fool,"Alizadeh replied. He gave Kiram a pitying smile. "Everyone knows that."