Lord of the White Hell book Two

Chapter Six

During the brief winter days that followed, Kiram spent much of his free time in the infirmary, rebuilding his engine and studying Scholar Donamillo's mechanical cures. He felt safe there, surrounded by machinery, with the scholar occupied in his own studies but always a near and reassuring presence. Scholar Donamillo seemed to take a quiet interest in Kiram's activities and assisted him without needing to be asked when Kiram labored with too many parts or too much weight.

The scholar was not a talkative man but Kiram found his company soothing. From time to time when he noticed Kiram looking on with interest, he would point out a string of soldering instructions engraved in the iron ribs of the mechanical cure or expose the fine wires that made up the harness and allow Kiram to study them. One afternoon he even demonstrated the way the amber and copper plates at the base of a mechanical cure could be brushed to produce arcing white sparks. The sight delighted Kiram and reminded him of Javier's sparking, hot touch when he opened the white hell. Much to Kiram's embarrassment, a shiver of remembered pleasure tingled down the nape of his neck.

Such responses were becoming more and more common. Throughout his days Kiram felt almost haunted by previous nights of intimacy. Javier's presence suffused Kiram's consciousness, so that now even in broad daylight, thoughts of Javier's body-his touch and his taste-floated up through Kiram's mind, distracting him.

During combat practice the strong smell of sweat and fevered heat of his own body flooded him with a brief but vivid recollection of deep, musky scents and joyous friction. His face flushed and Nestor easily scored a point on him.

"Sorry." Nestor stopped short, looking startled. "I was sure you'd parry that one."

"Nope, you got past me." Kiram couldn't help but smile at Nestor. He was the only man Kiram could think of who would worry about winning a point. "You should have pressed your advantage."

"I was too surprised by the novelty of it," Nestor admitted, but then he gave Kiram a mischievous smile. "Won't be next time though. Better be on your toes."

Kiram managed to remain focused throughout the lesson but found himself stealing glances at Javier all through lunch. Catching him staring, Javier gave him an arrogant grin, which was both deeply affecting and embarrassingly knowing. Kiram felt relieved when Elezar attempted some wrestling grip and jerked Javier halfway out of his seat. By the time Javier had fought Elezar off Kiram had regained his composure enough to meet his handsome smile with a studied indifference. Even so, Javier retained a smug expression through the rest of the meal and took every opportunity to stretch and slide one of his legs against Kiram's.

Kiram loved the sensations and attention of Javier's reckless desire but he feared exposure as well. Javier's title and reputation shielded him from suspicion but Kiram possessed neither asset. So he took care never to appear too pleased with Javier's company. He hoped his frowns and annoyed glances fit the appearance of a long-suffering underclassman who endured as best he could the antics and moods of a man like Javier.

But even reminding himself to remain cautious, Kiram could not help but lean into Javier's quick embraces and smile in response to Javier's light compliments. He accepted every invitation to join Javier riding and twice joined the Hellions hunting.

While Javier, Elezar and Atreau attempted to flush a boar from snow-laden thickets, Kiram brought down eighteen of the blue jays that constantly followed them. The birds were made into mince pies and Nestor proclaimed Kiram to be the hero of the meal, since the others had returned with nothing more than a few stringy hares. Fedeles nudged Kiram and sang, "Blue jays in white skies. Bad birds make good pies," like the refrain of a favorite song. Both Morisio and Atreau picked up the tune and hummed it as they too ate. Javier raised his glass to Kiram in a silent toast.

The winter might have been blissful if only Kiram could have scrubbed Holy Father Habalan's existence from his mind. But he saw the man every day, if not during class, then at the high table leading the Sacreday prayer. Just a glimpse of the holy father gripped Kiram's stomach and sent his pulse racing like a rabbit's. In the holy father's presence Kiram became aware of how deep the winter shadows grew and how they writhed at the edges of the flickering lamplight like living things.

For the first time since he was a young child he woke, terrified in the vast darkness of night, and his fear did not dissipate upon waking. It grew stronger. He lay shaking. Beside him, he felt Javier stir; his muscles shuddered, a gasp caught in his throat, and sudden wakeful tension flooded his body. He wrapped an arm around Kiram's chest, pulling him closer. Kiram knew at once that some terrible dream had woken Javier as well.

"It's all right," Kiram said. "It was just a dream."

"Yours or mine?"

The question didn't quite make sense, but Kiram answered anyway. "Both."

Javier said nothing. His grip on Kiram's chest relaxed and his breathing slowed. Kiram thought he might have fallen asleep again. The darkness seemed to close in on Kiram in a terrible isolating mass. He could see nothing and yet he was afraid to close his eyes.

"Why do dogs dance so poorly?" Javier asked quietly.

"What?" Kiram wasn't sure he'd understood what Javier had said. He rolled over, squinting through the dark to make out Javier's expression, but was unable to see more than a silhouette against the pale bedding.

"Because they have two left feet," Javier replied in the same soft tone.

"Two left…" Then Kiram realized that it was a joke. One of the silly kind that Nestor so loved.

"Stupid, isn't it?" Javier asked. He pulled Kiram closer to him. "Do you know any?"

"No-well, there's one Nestor told me but it's not very good."

"Let's hear it," Javier replied. He laid his head on Kiram's pillow. His skin felt warm.

"All right." Kiram thought for a moment, recollecting Nestor's words. "One day this messy old bear comes upon a very tidy rabbit. He realizes that this is his chance to improve his own atrocious appearance. So the grubby old bear shyly asks the rabbit if it's ever troubled by shit sticking to its fur. The rabbit replies that it certainly is not. Wonderful, the bear says and then he picks up the rabbit and uses it to wipe his ass clean."

A slight snort escaped Javier. "Ah, Grunito humor."

"I told you it wasn't very good," Kiram replied but he found himself amused as well. The absurdity of the joke eased his thoughts and broke the grip of fear that had held him.

Javier told him another joke-this time an appalling pun that Nestor would have relished-and Kiram rolled his eyes.

"That was just stupid," Kiram said.

"I know." The warmth of Javier's tone made Kiram think that he was grinning. "The stallion got colt-feet," Javier repeated the punch line. "It makes me laugh every time, because it's just so dumb."

Kiram sighed and relaxed against Javier. It was strange that he could feel so frightened and then so safe after just exchanging a few bad jokes. But there was a power in humor, especially ridiculous, simple humor. Kiram would never have believed it before this, but now he realized that he couldn't think about puns or riddles and feel terrified at the same time. Their sheer absurdity undermined the darkness and shadows.

This had to be something Javier had known for years, since he had been a child facing the shadow curse alone. Now he offered the knowledge to Kiram in the simplest manner and Kiram was thankful.

Kiram touched Javier's face and then kissed his lips. Javier kissed him back, sweetly and sleepily. Kiram closed his eyes.

"How does a willow respond when a Bahiim flirts with her?" Kiram asked, remembering something Musni had told him once.

"How?" Javier asked softly.

"Leaves."

"Terrible," Javier said but he laughed.

"I know." Kiram grinned and hugged Javier. His body felt so comfortable. Sleep came easily then.

As the days passed Kiram grew accustomed to feeling dread and fighting it back. He worked on his engine, collected jokes from Nestor, and exulted in Javier's intimacy. After every one of Holy Father Habalan's history lessons Kiram strode into the orchard with his bow and hunted blue jays.

He brought down so many of the birds that even Master Ignacio offered him a passing compliment for his skill as an archer. Genimo complained that they were going to be served nothing but stringy jays if Kiram wasn't stopped.

"At least it's meat," Morisio replied. "I don't think I could have stomached many more of those cabbage stews they were sending out from the kitchen last week."

"I'm just wondering if Kiram couldn't manage to bag something a little fatter." Genimo chewed on a thin drumstick. "A snow partridge, perhaps. Or a goose."

"Why not ask for a peacock and a dozen plump lambs while you're dreaming?" Javier replied.

"Lamb. Don't talk about lamb." Elezar sighed heavily. "God, I think I'd give up a month of wine for a rack of lamb right now." He scowled at the breaded jay and heap of turnips on his plate. "If they serve turnips again on the New Year I'm going to break into the kitchen and eat one of the cooks."

Javier raised a brow. "A stringy cook when you've got a tender underclassman? Really, Elezar, cannibalism is no excuse for low standards."

Even a table away Ollivar blanched and the Hellions laughed. The rest of the dinner conversation revolved around which underclassman would make the best meal. Kiram was quickly discounted, as both too skinny and too tricky. Nestor swore that he'd give them all indigestion. Elezar countered that he was more likely to give them all worms.

Despite the morbidity of the topic, Kiram enjoyed the camaraderie. At such times his sense of being foreign disappeared and he melted into the boisterous energy of the Hellions.

Then the darkest day of winter came, the Solstice, and Kiram was suddenly aware of how very different he was from all the others at the academy. Even Javier, who spent at least an hour every evening reading the Bahiim text Alizadeh had sent him, accepted the day as one dedicated to penance and prayer. All the Cadeleonians dressed in their drabbest clothes and took neither wine nor meat. Their Solstice required them to attend morning service, take turns at penance, and then spend the evening at chapel, chanting mournful prayers and standing vigil until the next morning.

Kiram found the entire prospect depressing. A Haldiim Solstice was a celebration of light, gifts and feasting. Back at his mother's home in Anacleto, Kiram knew that bright lamps were being lit in all the windows to burn throughout the night, beckoning friends and strangers alike to shelter and feast in their home. Sweets and fragrant meats would fill the tables as their cook and Kiram's sisters carried succulent dish after dish out from the kitchen. Dried cherries, almond candies, ginger squash, lamb, saffron rice, and toasted cheese would soon fill silver dishes and gilded platters. Even from the distance of memory, the smells of steam and spices wafted up to Kiram.

Right at this moment he imagined that his father and Uncle Rafie had hauled in the oak barrels of honey wine.

Soon Haldiim of all callings and stations would arrive, some bearing gifts and coming to stay, others bringing no more than a song or a juggler's trick and accepting stuffed breads and clay cups of mulled honey wine with cheers and blessings before passing on to other houses. Kiram smiled to himself, remembering the sweet sharp taste of stolen sips of the mulled wine on his lips.

The streets would be aglow with lamps and the sounds of singing and laughter would pour from every house. Again and again the familiar refrain of the Solstice song would ring out as one family or another took it up. To Kiram's memory it seemed as if the sweet simple lyrics were always in the air on Solstice.

"Come friend, come stranger, daughter and son. All are welcome, all loved, all one." Kiram sang the refrain to himself and felt all the more abandoned, hearing only his own voice raising a song that he remembered ringing across an entire city.

Alone in his and Javier's room, Kiram briefly surveyed the uniform slate of snow and frost that encased the stones outside the window. No paper flowers decorated the barren branches of the trees; not a single lamp burned back the cold winter shadows. He let the drapes fall closed over the desolate view.

He had thought that the Cadeleonians would at least exchange gifts. He vaguely remembered Scholar Blasio mentioning something like that, but Javier had informed him that they did not. Not until their New Year celebration would any Cadeleonians even be allowed wine or spirits. Neither singing nor dancing was permitted until then either.

Leave it to the Cadeleonian church to render a miserable, cold time of year even more bleak and dispiriting, Kiram thought.

He frowned at the chest of trinkets and sweets he'd dragged out from under his bed. He'd collected gifts for all of the Hellions-even Genimo. Most came from the autumn tournament but there were others he'd specially chosen from the goods his mother had sent to him. Next to the trunk stood the small, silver lamp his father had sent for him. Kiram picked it up, feeling the delicate filigree of almond flowers and honeybees. Each of his brothers had received a similar lamp when they had left home, so that they too could drive away the darkness when it was at its deepest. Just the weight of the lamp imparted a sense of profundity to Kiram. It didn't matter if he was among Cadeleonians. He would light his lamp and distribute his gifts with pride.

The decision made, Kiram quickly filled the lamp with sweet oil, lit the wick, and placed it on the windowsill.

Then he hefted up his trunk and hauled it down the stairs. With students, scholars and staff all attending chapel, the dormitory halls were deserted and eerily silent. Kiram felt like a thief creeping into each of the Hellions' rooms. Only the red light of dying fires illuminated most of the rooms and each space felt strange and personal as Kiram entered. Little shivers of fear mixed with his greater sense of excitement.

As he went he couldn't help but notice the differences between the Hellions' quarters. Creative disarray reigned through the small room Nestor shared with Atreau. Ink bottles cluttered both their desks and the floor was a maze of books, scribbled poems, sketchbooks and tins of paints. Discarded papers and crumpled sketches collected beside the tiny fireplace to be used as kindling. The earthy smell of Nestor's graphite styluses mingled nicely with the spicy scent of Atreau's cologne.

Two rooms down the hall, Kiram recognized Fedeles' bed at once. Even empty it looked tormented. Tangled sheets and blankets twisted around pillows and discarded clothes. Old bandages hung from the headboard. Wood shavings, tattered papers and odd socks littered the floor. In stark contrast stood six precise rows of small, carved horses. Nearly two dozen filled his desk. Pinned to the wall above them was Nestor's drawing of Firaj.

Both Morisio and Genimo kept their halves of their rooms neat. A few stains of machine oil marred Genimo's desk while a deck of cards lay at Morisio's bedside. They, like most of the Hellions, were not remarkable in their habitations. Tournament ribbons and dice abounded as did liquor flasks and hunting knives.

But Elezar surprised Kiram. He'd expected a mess of sweat- stained jackets, dueling knives and dirty boots. He'd prepared himself to choke on the smell of sweat, sex and white ruin. Instead the space seemed almost abandoned. The desk and shelves stood bare, except for a thin sheaf of blank paper and a pen kit. A simple coverlet stretched over the bed, neither tucked in nor rumpled. The sight reminded Kiram of a room at an inn where the resident had not unpacked, expecting to be gone too soon to bother.

When curiosity drew Kiram to open Elezar's dresser, he found nothing but school uniforms and a formal coat. No books, diaries, love tokens or good luck charms lay beneath the folded shirts or among the clean pairs of socks. Then in the pocket of the coat, Kiram discovered a tattered scrap of paper. He unfolded it carefully and found a fine drawing of Javier. The portrait was handsome and skillfully made-one of Nestor's best sketches, Kiram thought. And it was clearly cherished, worn from a constant touch but also folded carefully, so that no crease marred the face.

Suddenly Kiram felt ashamed. What was he doing, digging through Elezar's personal belongings? This was certainly none of his business. Now that he held Elezar's one private treasure in his hands he wished that he had never found it. Kiram returned it to the coat pocket and closed the dresser at once.

He left a long-bladed Irabiim knife with a finely decorated scabbard and fled the room, feeling guilty.

He was relieved that only two gifts remained. He left a set of calipers and six hard lemon candies in the infirmary for Scholar Donamillo, then he slunk down the hall to the door of Scholar Blasio's personal rooms. He had no intention of intruding upon the scholar's privacy. Instead he placed a box of sugared almonds and a pair of fur lined gloves down in front of Scholar Blasio's door. Then just as he rose to his feet the door swung suddenly open. Kiram jumped, an involuntary cry of surprise escaping him. Scholar Blasio's scowl lifted to a gentle smile the moment he met Kiram's startled face.

"I thought you'd be at chapel. " Kiram began and then realized that he needed to explain what he was doing crouching in front of the scholar's door, not why he was surprised to be caught. He picked up the wooden box and the gloves and thrust them out to Scholar Blasio. "I brought Solstice gifts"

The scholar accepted the gifts in apparent stunned silence. For the first time Kiram wondered if such an act could be offensive to a Cadeleonian. Was it wrong to offer them food and luxuries during a time of religious deprivation? "I know Cadeleonians don't celebrate this way but we Haldiim give gifts today. And I thought it couldn't hurt if I shared a few things with my friends"

"Thank you." Scholar Blasio gazed at the box and gloves with a strangely distant expression.

"I didn't mean to offend you-"

"No, you haven't," Scholar Blasio cut him off. "Quite the contrary, actually. I'm touched, Kiram. It's been so long since…" He simply shook his head and then stepped back from the door, holding it open. "Come in. We should talk."

The response was so strange that for a moment Kiram felt afraid, but he trusted Scholar Blasio and so accepted the invitation. The scholar's rooms weren't large. The warmth of the small hearth and the smell of spiced tea immediately calmed him. Familiar math texts lay on a weathered table beside Scholar Blasio's teapot.

"Can I offer you a cup?" Scholar Blasio brushed a hand over the teapot.

"Yes, please" Kiram sat in the worn seat across from the scholar's own. While the scholar poured a second cup of the steaming, fragrant tea, Kiram studied the graceful wood- carvings that decorated the bookshelves. One highly detailed globe held Kiram's attention so deeply that he almost missed the humble clay lamp on the scholar's windowsill. The flame burned low, illuminating little more than the graceful form of the lamp itself.

Once Kiram did notice it, he couldn't easily look away. Its place on the windowsill could have been a chance happening. A lamp might be set down anywhere at any time. But the shape of the lamp was so distinctly Haldiim that Kiram couldn't help but think it was meant for the Solstice.

"It belonged to my great-great-great-grandmother," Scholar Blasio said.

"It looks like a Haldiim Solstice lamp," Kiram commented cautiously.

"That is, in fact, exactly what it is." Scholar Blasio handed Kiram his tea. Kiram remembered accepting tea from the scholar before and thinking there was something familiar about its flavor. Now he recognized the taste. Musni's mother served the same red-tipped leaves to her guests; many Haldiim descended from northern lineages favored this smoky blend.

"There used to be an entire Haldiim population here before King Nazario purged them from the land" Scholar Blasio opened the wooden box of sugar almonds. He took one but didn't eat it. Instead he handed a second one to Kiram. Kiram hardly tasted the candy. He'd been feeling so alone that he hadn't even considered that other Haldiim could be hidden among the Cadeleonians who surrounded him.

"Most of the Haldiim were killed or fled" Scholar Blasio went on. "But there were a few with Cadeleonian parents or grandparents who could pass without notice."

Instinctively, Kiram searched for some physical trace of Haldiim heritage in Blasio's face. There was nothing. With his thick build, pale skin, and dark eyes and hair, Scholar Blasio could have served as a perfect example of a common Cadeleonian. No doubt Nazario's scourges had wiped away any Haldiim who could be recognized at a glance, leaving behind only the most perfect of chameleons.

"Believe it or not, Donamillo and I are descended from a Bahiim lineage." Scholar Blasio gave Kiram a wry smile.

"I." Kiram didn't know what to say. "I wouldn't have ever guessed. I mean, not until I saw the lamp."

"This is the first year I've lit it since I left my mother's home." Scholar Blasio's expression was distant. His gaze rested on the flickering lamp. Absently he popped a sugar almond into his mouth and suddenly his grave countenance brightened. "My word, these are good!"

"They're one of my mother's most popular specialties."

"Yes, I can see how a person could make a fortune with a candy like this one. Sweet success, hmm?"

"Yes, exactly," Kiram agreed. He didn't want to mention his mother's many other assets and properties when Scholar Blasio obviously came from a far more deprived family.

"Donamillo didn't want me to tell you this-I mean, about our heritage. I think he worried that you would let it slip to the other scholars or the holy father, but." Blasio poured himself a little more tea and then refreshed Kiram's cup as well. "King Nazario is long dead and I see no point in you feeling isolated and alone when there are two other Haldiim living with you. So I decided that I would tell you. I claimed illness to get out of the chapel vigil and lit my lamp for the first time in years." A look of melancholy flickered across Scholar Blasio's face. "Then my courage failed me. I can't say why, but I just couldn't bring myself to fetch you and tell you what I wanted to say. I must sound like a coward to a young man like yourself."

"No," Kiram replied. "I can't imagine having a secret like yours." Even as he spoke Kiram realized, with great irony, that he did have a secret as deep and private as Scholar Blasio's and he was even less inclined to speak of it.

"You keep a secret too long and it gains a kind of power over you, I think. It starts to own you." Scholar Blasio ate another candy almond and then leaned back in his chair, seeming for the first time to completely relax. "You can't know the state I was in when you showed up at my door." Scholar Blasio shook his head. "But now that I've told you, it really doesn't seem so important. I'm Haldiim."

"I'm glad. Now I don't have to spend Solstice alone." Kiram drank more of the tea.

"It is a relief to escape that wretched chapel. The entire affair is dull, depressing and far too sober." Scholar Blasio suddenly hopped up from his chair and went to a small cabinet. He returned to the table with a round of hard cheese, half a loaf of bread, and a flask that smelled of honey wine.

"Let us have as proper a Haldiim Solstice as we can" He poured the liquor into Kiram's empty teacup and then served himself.

"To light, friends and honesty." Blasio offered a toast.

Kiram drank happily and after several more toasts, he taught Scholar Blasio the Solstice song. They sang together, discussed two new mathematics papers, and from time to time Scholar Blasio made little confessions of his secret life. He described the pranks Donamillo had often played on their Cadeleonian neighbors and his own attempts to reclaim the power of his Bahiim ancestors.

"For nearly two years I kept lurking under old trees, hoping one of them would somehow commune with me. Donamillo would deny it but I know he did it too. We couldn't help it. Our grandmother was always telling stories of our glorious Bahiim ancestors" Scholar Blasio rolled his eyes and Kiram laughed. He guessed that he had gotten a little drunk after all.

"It was years before I realized that the Bahiim magic was long lost, if it had ever really existed at all."

"I used to think it was all just stories," Kiram admitted. "But there are some things I've seen that have given me doubts."

"I'm sure" Scholar Blasio said. "Rooming with Javier Tornesal, I imagine you've seen quite a lot of Bahiim power. Of course it's in the completely wrong hands." Scholar Blasio leaned forward in his chair and gazed intensely at Kiram. "It's like some kind of divine joke, really. The power of all shajdis lost to the Bahiim and yet somehow a Cadeleonian beef head has inherited one."

"I don't think he's a beef head at all," Kiram objected.

"No, I suppose he's not." Blasio smiled at Kiram and ate another slice of the pungent cheese. "I have to admit I had feared that he would mistreat you when you first arrived. But young Lord Tornesal has proven himself a very decent man, despite his mediocre mathematical skills. He's earned a great deal of my respect for that. Who knows, maybe the shajdi is not in the wrong hands after all."

"So, you've always known the white hell was a shajdi?" Kiram asked.

"Me? No. Donamillo recognized it when he saw the previous duke burn the city gates in Labara with his bare hands. At the time it infuriated him to realize that a shajdi had fallen into the hands of a Cadeleonian but things changed after he started teaching here. The same thing happened to me. If you spend enough time teaching boys, seeing their families and watching them grow into men, you realize that we are all just people. No matter what faith we follow or how we celebrate. The greatest wisdom of the Bahiim is knowing that we are all one: Haldiim, Cadeleonian, Mirogoth, Yuan. The names are superficial. The same humanity exists within us all. We come from the shajdi and we return to the shajdi. We all carry it within us."

Kiram nodded, benevolence and alcohol lending a sense of immense profundity to Blasio's words. It seemed a perfect time to raise the Solstice song and to Kiram's pleasure Blasio joined him. Then Blasio taught him a hearty, Cadeleonian New Year song so that he'd be able to sing along when his Hellion friends were finally allowed to sing again. The two of them ate and drank and sang until the hour grew late. At last Kiram wandered up to his room, humming to himself, and fell asleep nestled in Javier's bed.

His slight hangover the next day hardly stood out in the sea of his sleep-deprived classmates and instructors. Most of the classes were released early. For the first time all year Kiram found the library full of students, most napping in the quiet warmth. The Hellions had claimed a big table far from the drafts of the door and noise of the hall.

Most of them slumped forward in their seats, their faces planted against the tabletop, sleeping. Javier slouched in an ornately carved chair, looking exhausted but awake.

"Kiram, join us." Javier kicked out a chair next to his own. Elezar scowled at the noise as the legs grated across the stone floor.

Kiram dropped into the seat, glad to get off his feet after enduring Master Ignacio's marching drill. He envied Nestor, who had possessed the good sense to volunteer to help tidy the chapel as an escape from combat practice.

"You were in the dormitory last night" Javier said. "You didn't happen to notice an imp scurrying about and depositing gifts in certain students' rooms, did you?"

Kiram flushed with a mixture of guilt and happiness.

"I'm afraid I have no idea of what an imp looks like so I couldn't say."

"This one would have been slim, golden-haired-" Javier's description was broken off.

"-sneaky, scrawny and loaded down with loot. You might have noticed him while you were walking past a mirror or something." Elezar pulled his bloodshot eyes open and gazed levelly at Kiram.

Kiram laughed but admitted nothing.

"Well, if you do see him tell him thanks" Elezar yawned. "He's a fair judge of a good knife."

"If I see him I will certainly tell him," Kiram replied.

"Yes, and ask him why he didn't leave anything for me." There was only a trace of hurt in Javier's tone but Kiram responded to it immediately.

"What? But I did-" Kiram stopped as he caught Javier's smug expression. He scowled at Javier. "I left a fart on your pillow."

Elezar snorted at the response. Javier just smacked the back of Kiram's head lightly. His hand lingered for a moment, almost making a caress of the blow. Belatedly Kiram saw that Javier wore one of his Solstice gifts: a simple gold ring with a Mirogoth knot design forming the centerpiece. Kiram felt a sudden flush of pleasure and something like conquest at the sight of Javier wearing the ring.

Not that they had exchanged oaths or ever would, Kiram reminded himself. But for an instant he sensed the pride that he might have taken in their pledges and rings. Then he felt foolish for choosing to give Javier a ring and making himself melancholy.

"Something wrong?" Javier asked.

"No." Kiram pulled his gaze from the ring and leaned on the table. "I'm a little hungover, that's all."

"Hungover?" Atreau groggily shoved an oily strand of his black hair back from his face. "How come you get to be hungover when the rest of us just have to be exhausted?"

"Just one of the advantages of being barred from chapel," Kiram replied.

"Yes, well you left our room quite a wreck, and you've hardly begun copying my history essay"' Javier stood and stretched. Their room was fine and Javier's history essays never required a rewrite to tidy them, but he didn't object. "I expect that you'll have all in order by the time I'm done with my nap, Underclassman Kiram"

"Yes, Upperclassman." Kiram let a heavy sigh serve as his feigned protest. Atreau weakly waved after him as he followed Javier out of the library.

Once they were up in their room, Javier pulled Kiram into a hard, possessive kiss. Kiram returned his force and desire but then drew back, taking in Javier's wide dark eyes and naked longing. He smiled, and when Javier tried to kiss him again, he offered a teasing evasion.

Javier pinned him against the wall, forcing Kiram to open his lips to him. Pleasure pulsed through Kiram's groin as Javier slowly pressed their hips into contact.

"I missed you last night." Javier kissed him again but this time with a slow sensuality. The buckles of their belts clinked and ground as they pressed themselves closer.

Javier's hands closed on the small of Kiram's back and then cautiously dropped lower to caress Kiram's buttocks.

There was intention in Javier's touch, but neither certainty nor skill. Raw hunger made his grip almost bruising. His strong fingers dug in. It was not the first time that Javier courted a deeper intimacy, but this was by far his most direct overture. Whether he did not know the words or simply could not bring himself to speak them, Kiram did not know, but Javier never voiced his desire and when Kiram quietly evaded him, Javier always quickly relented.

Javier knew what he wanted, Kiram thought, but he didn't know exactly how to have it. Kiram could have taught him. Running his hand over Javier's taut body, Kiram ached to have him but wasn't sure that he knew Javier well enough to trust where such exchanges might lead them. He had heard too many Cadeleonians-Javier among them-use the word 'bender' as a byword for a weakling or a coward. Kiram wouldn't risk Javier viewing him as either. Nor did he wish to force Javier to accept such an identity.

So Kiram ducked to the side, caught hold of Javier's hand, and pulled him to the bed. He pushed Javier back onto the bedding and straddled his legs.

Kiram's hands had grown skilled at working open the delicate gold buttons of Javier's trousers. A soft moan escaped Javier as Kiram bowed over him.

There was such pleasure feeling Javier's entire body respond to the slightest motion of his tongue and the tension of his throat. There was power as well, working him to the height of ecstasy and withholding his release, again and again. Kiram exulted in Javier's ragged breathing, his desperate grip and even the moment when Javier's control broke and he rolled Kiram beneath him and thrust hard. Then Javier fell back, breathing as though he'd run miles.

Kiram laughed and wiped his face. Javier threw his arm around Kiram and pulled him down into a kiss.

"You are too good at that, Kiram," Javier whispered. "I feel like a novice compared to you."

"Well, they do say that the best way to learn is practice and instruction," Kiram replied.

"Yes, well, I need a little of both." Javier rolled onto his side and traced the line of Kiram's chest down to his hips. Kiram leaned back into the pillows.

That night and many after it they nearly missed dinner. When they did arrive, Kiram's lips were still tender and the taste of Javier's flesh lingered in his mouth. Despite their fatigue, an eager lust overcame them both as soon as they were in their room alone.

Kiram expected his desire for Javier would wane as the winter months passed, but instead it seemed to grow. During the New Year celebration they slipped away between the scholars' speeches and returned with sticky hands. Twice they went riding through the orchard and pleasured each other against the bare apple trees. It was dangerous and yet they couldn't seem to stop themselves.

In part Kiram understood that desperation drove them. Once spring arrived the academy year would be at an end. Kiram would return to Anacleto, and Javier would go to Rauma. If they met again it would not be until midsummer and by then Kiram had no idea of how much would have changed between them. The few weeks left became precious. But they passed all too soon.

The snows melted and red crocus flowers pushed up through newly exposed soil. Icicles crashed down from the eaves of the dormitory like thunder strikes. In the infirmary, Kiram's engine stood complete though not yet linked to Scholar Donamillo's mechanical cure. All around Kiram students chattered about their families and homes. Nestor calculated the days until he would see Riossa again.

"Six days to Anacleto if the weather holds and none of the roads have washed out." Nestor scowled at the wet ground. "As many as eighteen if the mountain snows melt all at once."

Kiram nodded but he was hardly listening. Already private coaches had arrived at the academy; among them stood a glossy carriage with the black Tornesal sun emblazoned upon it. Javier would leave within the hour, once his luggage was loaded. They'd already wished each other farewell as best they could with both Nestor and Elezar standing beside them.

"No point in you riding alone, is there?" Nestor's question slowly penetrated Kiram's distraction.

"What?"

"Well, we're all three going to Anacleto. We might as well share a carriage."

"You mean you, me and Elezar?"

"Sure," Nestor replied. "It seems lonely, you staying here an extra night just to ride all that way alone."

Kiram agreed to leave today with Nestor and Elezar. Then at least he wouldn't have to return to his and Javier's room, knowing that Javier would not join him.

Briefly he wondered what Fedeles felt, remaining all year at the academy, maintaining his treatments while all the other students returned to their homes.

If he felt hurt or lonely, none of it showed when he came to see Kiram off. Fedeles sang and danced beside Kiram. After Kiram's belongings had been packed onto the red Grunito carriage, Fedeles hugged him fiercely.

"Don't forget Firaj," Fedeles told him.

"I won't" Kiram reassured him. He wished that he could bring Fedeles with him and remove him from Holy Father Habalan's grasp. But Scholar Donamillo's mechanical cures offered Fedeles far greater protection than Kiram's company could. "You'll look after him while I'm gone, won't you?"

Fedeles nodded but his expression was distant and dreamy. A moment later he dashed away to the Tornesal carriage, singing out a gibberish of students' names and dance steps as he went. Kiram took his seat beside Nestor and across from Elezar. He glanced out the small window and caught sight of Javier.

Kiram's pulse quickened. He prayed desperately that Javier would stride across the grounds to the carriage. If only he would ask to come along to Anacleto or offer to take Kiram to Rauma…

But he did not move. He remained at a distance, watching with an expression of studied indifference. Even when the carriage pulled away, Javier remained where he stood. As they passed through the academy gates Kiram lost sight of him.