Lord of the White Hell Book 2

by Ginn Hale

  “I’ll fight for Javier, no matter what,” Kiram said, though the prospect frightened him. The royal bishop was a prince and his men certainly wouldn’t abide by the neat rules of a tournament.

  Suddenly the scent of hay and goats, the sound of the surrounding crowd, and even the warmth of the noonday sun seemed distant and dull. The cold pain of his final duel in the autumn tournament rolled over him. His forearm ached as if the stitches had once again split apart. How much worse would it be to die in battle?

  They needed to find a way out of this that didn’t include battle. But why would the royal bishop want to arrest Javier at all when he wielded the shadow curse?

  “Has Javier mentioned that Fedeles may be back with us again?” Elezar absently watched Nestor chatting with a Civic Guard.

  “Back with us?” Kiram asked but something in Elezar’s expression gave him his own answer. “You mean he’s better?”

  “Maybe fully recovered. If it’s true, it would be good. Not that he was ever much of a fighter. But still, if he were here and well again it would mean the world to Javier…” Elezar’s expression softened for just a moment. Then he pulled himself back. “Morisio swears he saw him in Zancoda, walking with a magistrate and speaking very rationally.”

  “That’s wonderful!” Kiram felt almost giddy with joy. Scholar Donamillo must have broken the curse despite his illness. Kiram had left his engine in working order with the scholar and he wondered if it had made the difference.

  But even as Kiram spoke a dark thought came to him. If Scholar Donamillo had driven the shadow curse from Fedeles, then the royal bishop would have to alter his tactics against Javier. A cold dread gripped Kiram.

  “If the royal bishop did decide to arrest Javier, how do you think he’d go about it?” Kiram’s throat felt dry and his words came out too quiet.

  “I don’t know…” Elezar frowned and for a moment Kiram thought he looked as desolate as Kiram felt at the prospect. But then some Cadeleonian reflex surged and Elezar gave a brutish smile. “He’ll want to seize Javier while he’s away from Rauma and his own men. If he’s going to do it he’ll have to move soon, before Prince Sevanyo can get word.”

  “Soon, and most likely here or at the academy?” Kiram asked.

  Elezar nodded. “Even so, Javier has the white hell. The royal bishop knows that and I’d bet my left ball that scares the shit out of him.”

  Only Javier didn’t really have the white hell now. From what Javier had told him, his control over it was touch and go.

  “The bishop will need to find a way to restrain Javier,” Elezar went on.

  “He’ll want Javier to go to confession.” Kiram suddenly realized. “Once Javier has been given muerate poison he’ll be vulnerable.”

  Elezar’s face actually paled. “That would be exactly when he’d want to move.”

  “Then I suppose it’s good that Javier’s been avoiding chapel,” Kiram commented.

  “God, yes,” Elezar murmured. “It makes sense now.”

  “What makes sense?” Nestor asked.

  Both Kiram and Elezar spun around. Nestor smiled at them benignly. He carried a thick roll of supple vellum sheets over his left arm. Riossa gripped his right arm with a shy pleased expression while her maid trailed behind them, occupied with a sweet roll.

  Elezar scowled at his younger brother but Kiram took heart in Nestor’s friendly ease. Talking with Elezar he’d felt like any moment they might both die, but just looking at Nestor Kiram felt the warmth and cheer of their surroundings return. He reminded himself that what he and Elezar had been discussing were only rumors and suppositions. Certainly, if anything were truly wrong, Javier would be the first to know and be the one to tell Kiram.

  He noticed that new teams of goats waited on the muddy track and that bets were again being taken.

  “I was explaining to Elezar that the red goats were originally bred for their meat, not their milk, so they tend to be bigger and make better racers,” Kiram supplied.

  “Oh, but the little white ones are very quick and their carts are smaller,” Riossa commented. “So if the race is only half the track they get to the finish before the red fellows can work up any speed.”

  “That’s true.” Kiram smiled, realizing that Riossa had actually been paying much closer attention to the races than he had.

  “I’d place my bets with your future sister-in-law,” Kiram told Elezar. Elezar nodded absently, but Riossa gave Kiram a genuine, thankful smile.

  Dauhd and Majdi found them a few hours later, just as a team of red goats with black lacquered horns pulled their young driver past the finishing posts and a wild cheer went up through the crowd. Elezar collected his winnings, while Riossa, Nestor and even Riossa’s shy maid continued to shout encouragements for a team of spotted goats whose cart driver appeared to be a blind woman. Kiram cheered along with his friends when the goats took third.

  “I daresay that sometimes a valiant loss is more inspiring that a certain win,” Riossa commented.

  “Well, certainly. You remember Kiram and me at the autumn tournament,” Nestor replied and Riossa nodded.

  “That was more like a certain loss,” Elezar remarked.

  “It wasn’t!” Nestor frowned at his brother. “Not Kiram. He fought like a…”

  “Yes?” Elezar prompted.

  “Like a stoat!” Riossa supplied and Kiram laughed out loud.

  “They’re fierce creatures when they’re cornered. Fierce and brave,” Riossa protested.

  “You’re quite the stoat yourself, Riossa,” Elezar told her and then he patted her lightly on the head.

  Riossa grinned as if Elezar couldn’t have paid her a higher compliment and knowing Elezar, Kiram thought that perhaps he couldn’t have.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Walking to the stables with the Grunitos and his own siblings, Kiram enjoyed listening to them all chat and tease each other. He basked in the mood of gentle happiness that Nestor and Riossa effortlessly created. Even Elezar seemed to have given in to their warmth. Certainly his teasing smiles were a far cry from the autumn afternoon when he’d snarled Riossa’s name and told Nestor that the girl had duped him. Now it felt as if they were all a family, even himself and Dauhd and Majdi.

  That sense of comfort lingered and might have stayed with Kiram even after the Grunitos had departed, if only he hadn’t noticed the column of bright blue jays flying overhead. These were not just the few birds he’d noted a week ago. Dozens and dozens of birds filled the sky, circling the dark treetops of the Circle of Red Oaks.

  They most certainly belonged to the man on the hill.

  A terrible dread crept over Kiram as he wondered why they had come and what else followed in their wake.

  “Mum is expecting you to attend Mother Kir-Naham’s dinner tonight.” Dauhd’s words hardly penetrated Kiram’s anxious thoughts, seeming almost meaningless. He knew it couldn’t be a coincidence that those shrieking spies had arrived just when the royal bishop was planning to arrest Javier, but what could be done about it?

  “Kiram, did you hear me?” Dauhd demanded.

  “What? Yes,” Kiram replied. “Yes, I heard you.”

  Both Dauhd and Majdi studied him with unconvinced expressions. Kiram felt suddenly tired of pretending that dinners with Hashiem’s mother—or Hashiem himself—mattered.

  “She’ll be expecting you by the sixth bell,” Dauhd went on.

  Kiram just rolled his eyes. “Does anyone honestly think that I’m going to settle down with—”

  “Don’t you dare!” Dauhd cut him off, holding both of her hands up as if to cover Kiram’s mouth. “Don’t you dare tell Majdi or me what you’re planning to do! I refuse to be blamed for failing to stop you.”

  Kiram just stared at his sister and Majdi burst into convulsive laughter.

  “Well spoken,” Majdi told Dauhd when he at last recovered his decorum. Then he turned his attention to Kiram. “It really would be best if you didn’t make either of us a knowing
accomplice to this affair of yours, Kiram.”

  “But you do know.”

  “No. We suspect,” Dauhd stated firmly. “And I don’t think I’m willing to go even that far. Not when I need Mum to approve of Chebli. She’s not going to do that if she thinks I helped you to—do whatever it is that I have no suspicion that you’re getting up to! Understood?”

  “Yes.” Kiram sighed heavily, then looked back to the sky where the jays seemed to spread like storm clouds. “I need to go speak to Uncle Rafie.”

  “Good choice,” Majdi told him.

  Dauhd frowned at him, and for the first time Kiram could clearly see one of their mother’s expressions on her face; it was as much concern as consternation. “You take care, Kiram.”

  “I’m only visiting Uncle Rafie, not storming the Cadeleonian church.” Kiram offered her a game smile. “I’ll see you this evening for dinner with Mother Kir-Naham.”

  He turned and ran to Rafie’s house, almost colliding with his uncle as he came bounding up to the front door.

  “Kiram! I was just going out to find you.” Rafie’s grim expression brightened a little but he still studied the sky with agitation. “Alizadeh needs you.”

  “Those jays—” Kiram began to ask but Rafie cut him off.

  “We’ll talk about it inside. Come in. Quickly now.” Rafie hurried Kiram into the house and out to the garden.

  Javier and Alizadeh both knelt beside a twisted pine. Their eyes were closed.

  “Kiram is here,” Javier said, though he didn’t look up.

  Alizadeh glanced to the door and smiled at Kiram.

  “You’re right. He is.” Alizadeh cocked his head slightly. “You certainly found him quickly enough, Rafie.”

  “He found us,” Rafie replied.

  “I came because I saw a huge flock of jays.”

  “Yes, their numbers have been growing over the last week and now I think there may be enough for them to attempt to take the Circle of Red Oaks.” Alizadeh rose slowly from his crouch beside the tree. Javier remained where he was, eyes closed, one hand curled around a root of the old pine. “It seems that the shadow curse is moving, trying to reach into Anacleto.”

  “Can you stop it?” Kiram asked. He glanced again to Javier, finding it odd that he remained so still and quiet at a time like this. Javier drew in a deep slow breath but said nothing.

  “If the White Tree were ignited then no curse could settle upon the city, much less the mere shadow of one.” Alizadeh waved his hand as if batting aside a fly.

  “But it isn’t ignited.” A clammy sweat began to rise as Kiram tried not to remember that rushing shadow hunting him through the woods and cutting into his body. He focused on Alizadeh’s calm expression, his easy stance.

  “No, the White Tree is not yet ignited but neither has the shadow curse settled. The force behind it feels stronger but not so powerful that it can take the city without placing wards first. That’s why he’s sent those jays. If they can beat their way through the Bahiim wards and settle in the Circle of Red Oaks, then the shadow curse will infiltrate our places of power. The man controlling the shadow curse will own the circle and the White Tree. Whoever he is, he knows the old Bahiim ways well.” Alizadeh scowled. “If we hope to stop him then the White Tree must be ignited tonight.”

  “Is Javier ready for that?” Kiram asked.

  “No, but when has that ever stopped me?” Javier gave Kiram a brief smile. Kiram thought he looked tired already.

  “And that’s why we need you, Kiram,” Rafie said.

  “If you come with us to the Circle of Red Oaks tonight you can serve as Javier’s anchor. You’ll keep him from being lost in the shajdi.”

  Kiram had no idea what that even meant, much less what it would require. He opened his mouth to ask but Alizadeh cut him off.

  “Rafie and I will take the spring pool. We should be able to feed the wards there long enough to distract most attention from the two of you.”

  “Other Bahiim may be there as well.” Rafie’s tone didn’t tell Kiram if that was good or bad. “Not even the most lazy of them can ignore what’s happening right now.”

  “Willing to put money on that?” Alizadeh asked.

  “Not much,” Rafie conceded and then he returned his attention to Kiram. “Once the White Tree is ignited you’ll need to get Javier and yourself away from the Circle of Red Oaks as quickly and discreetly as possible.”

  Alizadeh swung up his traveling satchel and nodded.

  “These aren’t the circumstances under which Javier should be introduced to the other Bahiim. Not only will the circle be in an uproar because of the shadow curse but many of them will be furious after the White Tree is ignited. The last thing we want is for one of them to lash out against him.”

  “Or to expose him to his fellow Cadeleonians,” Rafie put in.

  “But how will I anchor Javier?” Kiram finally managed to get a word in. “And how will I know when the White Tree is ignited? I don’t even know what the White Tree looks like.”

  “I know what it is and where,” Javier said. He rose to his feet, keeping one hand still in contact with the twisted old pine tree.

  “The moment it’s ignited you, and everyone within a few miles, will know.” A knowing smile spread across Alizadeh’s lips. “As for anchoring Javier, you only need to hold his bare hand in your own and stand with him.”

  “That’s all?” It sounded far too simple for Kiram to believe.

  Alizadeh gave a short laugh. “You were hoping for more?”

  “No, no. It just sounds like something anyone—”

  Javier reached out and caught Kiram’s hand. His grip felt like hot iron.

  He said, “We’ll be in the midst of the white hell. It won’t be easy for either of us.”

  “But at least you’ve been there before,” Alizadeh said. “Now go. You don’t have much time.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  The silhouettes of countless jays darkened the sunset sky. Their shadows swept like storm clouds over Gold Street and blackened the waters of the Wahdi River. People on the street stared and wondered aloud at why such a huge flock had congregated over the vast wilderness of the Circle of Red Oaks. Columns of the brilliant blue jays circled and sheared away from the gnarled oaks, shrieking as if infuriated.

  As Javier and Kiram raced nearer, they passed men and women rushing in the opposite direction, their faces and exposed arms lacerated with scratches.

  “Those birds are crazed,” a woman warned them, but neither Kiram not Javier slowed. Stray jays swooped and dived at them, clawing Kiram’s hair and grazing his cheek. Many more swept across the tree tops ahead of them. They were closing in and Kiram could feel the very first pangs of the shadow curse drawing near.

  Fear slithered through Kiram’s stomach.

  Javier glanced to him, seeming to read his thoughts. “The curse hasn’t settled yet. And if we can reach the White Tree quickly, it won’t even get the chance.”

  The wild brambles and verdant trees of the Circle of Red Oaks offered the best protection they could hope for.

  “Then we should probably run faster,” Kiram said.

  Javier nodded and they sprinted into the dark wood. Kiram raced at Javier’s side, dodging branches and the black talons of birds alike.

  Jays screamed and swooped. Their brilliant blue bodies gleamed against the darkening sky as they flashed between branches overhead. A chill ran down his back each time one of their diving shadows swept over him. A cold breeze seemed to rise in the wake hundreds of beating wings. Kiram thought he could taste a coming storm in each fast breath he took.

  Javier didn’t spare Kiram a glance. Instead he searched the tangles of thickets and brambles as if he were a hound tracking elusive prey. He bounded ahead and Kiram followed him deeper into the dark woods.

  Twilight shadows and wild vines spread over what once must have been a cobbled path. Kiram’s boots caught on loose stones. Roots seemed to grasp at his heels. Javier stumble
d down to his knee but instantly shoved himself up to his feet.

  “The White Tree is close,” Javier muttered. “I can feel it.”

  Through the cacophony of jay shrieks, Kiram could hear men and women calling to each other throughout the grove. The Bahiim had come to defend their circle. Rafie had won his bet.

  Overhead Kiram heard the high-pitched whistle of an arrow. It speared a jay and the bird plummeted down. But when the dead jay hit the branches of an oak its body burst apart, spattering black fluid over the tree. Branches steamed and leaves blackened. As more arrows flew and more jays fell an acrid burning odor filled the air. Shouts of alarm and panic sounded through the woods. In the midst of it, Kiram thought he heard Alizadeh’s voice roar out strange words. Overhead two jays burst into flames, their plumes turning to dark smoke as they fell.

  “I hate those damn birds,” Kiram growled.

  “They aren’t birds—not anymore.”

  “What are they?”

  “Ill will on wings,” Javier muttered, but he wasn’t watching the jays. He stared into the deep shadows of the surrounding foliage as he raced ahead. Then he suddenly stopped short and Kiram almost slammed into him.

  “Is something wrong?” Kiram asked but Javier didn’t seem to hear him. He turned in a circle, drawing in deep breaths as if searching for a scent.

  “There.” Javier bolted into a wall of brambles and Kiram followed after him. Thorns scraped at his hands and gripped his hair, but Kiram ripped himself free and kept after Javier, fighting his way deep into the thicket where wild creatures had created hollows in beds of decayed leaves. The walls of thorns opened like the corridors of a strange maze. The last rays of twilight filtered through knots of thorns and leaves in a diffuse blue glow.

  “Yes.” Javier’s voice sounded distant. He charged ahead, hardly seeming to care what branches slashed at him. Something about the space felt deeply eerie, like a place from a fairy story. Perched in the brambles, black-eyed ravens watched them pass while rabbits and squirrels fled ahead of them, rushing into the dense briar walls.