Kiram ran hard and the curse rushed after him. He felt its pursuit, like hot breath and sharp teeth snapping at his back. Something sliced through his pant leg and slashed open his calf. The pain flooded him with an animal desperation and his body responded with a rush of speed.
In the back of his mind he knew he should return to the security of the dormitory but the writhing black mass of the curse spread between him and the school, so Kiram wasn’t going to turn around.
He abandoned the thought of reaching any destination; nowhere could be safe. All that mattered was escape. He had to keep moving. His muscles burned and his lungs ached as he threw himself ahead too fast to even see where he was going.
Flows of snow dragged at him. He fought through them. He tore across the grounds and raced through the orchard. Twilight shadows engulfed him as he crossed the bridge and sprinted between rows of bare apple trees.
Sweat soaked his shirt. His rapid breath pumped out like steam from one of his engines. At some point he lost the orchard path and found himself stumbling through deeper drifts of snow and surrounded by wild old trees.
He tripped over a fallen branch and crashed into the snow. As he scrambled back to his feet, he caught a glimpse of the roiling black mass rushing through the twilight shadows towards him. He heard whispers, like distant screams. Overhanging tree branches splintered apart the instant the shadow curse fell across them—ripped to shreds just as the groom, Victaro, had been.
Raw panic electrified Kiram’s trembling muscles. He fought through the snow and raced into the darkness of the dense woods. From overhead came the cry of a bird. A crow. First one, then another, and another.
“Help me!” Kiram shouted, praying that this once Bahiim mysticism would serve him. “Please, sisters, help me!”
He didn’t have the strength to waste waiting for a response. He kept moving; then suddenly black wings swept past his head. A crow circled him and then flew between the big pines on Kiram’s left. Desperate for any hope, Kiram plunged through the undergrowth after the bird. Other crows swept down from the branches, leading Kiram and calling him, their harsh voices challenging the terrible growls and shrieks of the curse behind him.
Hard cramps bit through Kiram’s legs. His lungs felt raw. He staggered blindly after the crows, running between towering trees and snow-covered brambles. Then, as one the crows alighted in the bare branches of a huge oak. Kiram fell against the rough trunk of the old tree. His legs buckled beneath him.
The black mass of the curse came up fast, rushing after Kiram. It arched up over the snow like a cresting wave. As its shadow neared Kiram a sick pain punched into his body. Something twisted through his intestines.
It must have blood, Kiram. Alizadeh’s voice moved over him like a chill wind.
Then the crows dived from their perches, sweeping down over Kiram and the curse crashed across their backs. Burning feathers and blood spattered the snow and pelted Kiram. Crow carcasses fell, smoking, to the ground. The curse rose like a black steam from the mutilated birds. Kiram pressed himself back against the oak, not wanting even a wisp to touch him. The curse hung like smoke in the air.
Kiram held his breath, afraid on some primal level that the curse might somehow hear him gasp or feel him exhale. He stared intently as the black wisps slowly coalesced into the dark silhouette of a man.
Kiram recognized the long body with its broad shoulders and slim hips. The curse could have been either Javier’s or Fedeles’ shadow, suspended in the air before his eyes. It took a step closer to Kiram, one hand extending, but then stopped. Suddenly its featureless head turned back as if hearing a call. Its mass dropped to the snow and slithered back across Kiram’s tracks. In an instant it was gone.
Kiram dragged in a breath of the frigid air. His entire body shuddered from both cold and shock. The blood streaming down his calf felt alarmingly hot and suddenly he felt aware of the scratches where the crows’ bones had grazed his skin. Black feathers matted with blood spattered his arms and face. Pieces of skulls and feathers pitted the snow all around him. His own blood smeared out from his right leg in a rapidly cooling pool.
Impending sobs tightened his throat and tears welled in his eyes. He wanted to curl into a ball and have his mother tell him that everything would be all right. He wanted to be back home and feel his father’s strong embrace and know he was safe. Kiram wiped furiously at his face, knowing that he only succeeded in smearing crows’ blood across his cheeks.
He couldn’t act like a child, damn it.
He watched his breath rise in white clouds and dissipate into the dark. No one was going to come rescue him—certainly not his parents—and if he didn’t get back to the academy he was going to freeze to death.
Kiram pushed himself back from the old oak. A pang flared through his calf but the leg still took his weight. He followed his own tracks back towards the academy. Every time he heard a sound or saw a motion in the branches above him he froze in fear. An owl swooped past him. Some small creature shrieked and skittered over a tree limb. Clusters of blue jays watched him in eerie silence.
Snow began to fall in light streams at first, but then it grew heavy. Kiram’s old footprints became shallow impressions. He struggled to follow his path back through the forest.
Huge flakes of snow settled in his hair and melted against his skin. Kiram shoved his hands into his coat pockets. At first his feet ached, almost burned from the cold, but now they were numb weights. He couldn’t stop shivering.
It couldn’t be much further. Kiram thought he could smell oven smoke in the air. Just a little farther, he promised himself, but his steps were unsteady and he wasn’t even sure of where he was anymore. Suddenly his boot caught on a buried stump and he tumbled down an incline, slamming into the trunk of a tree.
He struggled up to his feet, but the snow slipped beneath him and he slid farther down the incline, again only coming to a stop when he crashed against a hard barrier. This time the aged stones of a crumbling wall pummeled his back and shoulder.
Kiram lay still, too cold to care about his scrapes and bruises. Snow drifted down onto him. He was so tired and this fucking day just wouldn’t let up. He tried to roll over but his arm wouldn’t move. Instead a terrible dislocated feeling shot through his shoulder. His calf seemed dead and he didn’t have the strength to force himself up to his feet again.
He had to rest. Just for a few minutes, then he’d go on. Kiram closed his eyes. He imagined how he would brace himself with his left leg and use the wall to support his weight. He’d get up; it wouldn’t be all that difficult. If he couldn’t climb the slippery incline, then he’d follow the wall. It had to have been part of the academy grounds at one time. Doubtless it would lead him close enough that he could catch a glimpse of the dormitory. He’d probably be back in less than an hour.
With that thought a delirious calm settled over Kiram. He felt a little warmer, almost comfortable, now. Perhaps the snow was letting up. His muscles relaxed and he slept as blankets of snow settled over his body.
The hands that gripped him felt like heated brands. Kiram opened his eyes and for a moment saw nothing but brilliant light, then felt the sensual heat of the white hell.
Javier’s black hair and dark eyes came into focus and slowly Kiram made out the rest of his features. He leaned over Kiram. Dark sky spread out behind him. High in the sky a crow circled.
What kind of crow flew when it was so dark? And when had it stopped snowing?
“Kiram.” Javier’s voice seemed strangely distant and his expression was strained. “Can you hear me?”
Kiram tried to respond but found himself producing only a weak groan. Javier’s hand felt blazing hot as it stroked his cheek.
“Just stay awake, Kiram. Stay with me,” Javier said. Then he straightened and looked back over his shoulder, shouting, “I found him!”
Kiram was aware of being lifted up against Javier’s chest and the sparks from the white hell crackling around him. He thought he heard Nestor’s voice and Elezar’s as well, but he wasn’t sure. Only the heat and light of Javier’s presence felt real to him. Slowly the range of his awareness grew. His shoulder and calf hurt. His hands and feet ached. A strange bouncing motion sent pangs through his shoulder. They were riding, he realized. He was on Lunaluz, leaning against Javier, and still high above them the crow circled, calling.
“The curse.” Kiram tried to get the words out but his lips felt leaden. “It’s in Fedeles. That’s where it hides.”
“I know.” Javier’s voice was rough.
Of course Javier knew. Kiram leaned back against Javier’s chest.
“Fedeles destroyed my engine.” It alarmed him that he couldn’t get more than a whisper out and his words sounded slurred. “He didn’t want to do it. He was crying the whole time. I think the curse inside him drove him to it.” Suddenly Kiram realized what that would mean. The man who controlled the curse must have found out that Scholar Donamillo planned to use Kiram’s engine to free Fedeles. How had he found out? Only a few people knew anything about it, aside from himself, Javier, and Master Donamillo. Genimo knew apparently and perhaps Morisio had guessed at the truth. One of them must have let some vital detail slip.
“Fedeles tried to tell me about the man who put the curse in him but that’s when it came out of him and attacked me.” Speaking just a few words felt exhausting. Kiram drew in a deep breath. Javier said nothing, but he dropped the reins from his right hand and gently touched Kiram’s chest.
The shadows of apple trees danced and jumped as he and Javier rode past. Behind them Kiram could hear other riders. He closed his eyes and then immediately opened them again when a blaze of white light surged over him.
“Don’t sleep, Kiram. Stay with me.” Javier gripped him hard and a searing heat flared through Kiram’s chest as Javier opened the white hell again.
“I’m awake,” Kiram protested. “You don’t have to cook me to wake me up, you know.”
Through the radiant light, Kiram made out the gray silhouettes of the academy buildings. The light dimmed, receding back into Javier. Darkness closed in around them, swallowing their surroundings in shadows.
Despite the night cold, Kiram felt better. His shoulder still ached, but it moved when he shifted his arm to touch the makeshift bandage wrapped around his calf. For the first time all night he had the luxury to be aware of his hunger. A tantalizing scent of roast fowl seemed to linger on the air.
“Something smells like roasted pigeon,” Kiram whispered.
“It’s you,” Javier replied and then Kiram remembered the burned remains of the crows that spattered his entire body.
“I need a bath.”
“You’ll have one soon enough.”
Kiram leaned back against Javier, peering into the shadows of the trees; he thought he could see jays staring back at him. The crow was no longer anywhere to be seen. When Kiram looked back past Javier, he glimpsed the other Hellions riding behind them. Even Genimo rode among them.
“How long have I been gone?” Kiram asked.
“Past last bell, at least.” Javier scowled at the stables ahead of them. “That’s when Fedeles came and told me that he thought he’d killed you.”
“It wasn’t him,” Kiram said quickly. “It was the curse inside him. Fedeles told me to run. He probably saved my life.”
“From himself,” Javier replied. “That’s cold comfort.”
Kiram could only remember Fedeles, stricken and terrified, on the floor of his work shed. Even his ruined engine seemed unimportant now. “Is he all right?”
“Is he all right?” Javier sounded annoyed. “He’s better than you were when I found you. But yes, Fedeles is fine. He’s with Scholar Donamillo, resting.”
“Does everyone at the academy know what happened?” Kiram asked.
“Yes and no. They know that someone broke into your work shed and destroyed your project. There was blood and your tracks led out into the orchard at a full run.”
As they neared the stables Kiram saw several men step out from the shelter of the doorway holding up lamps. Among the grooms stood Master Ignacio. He scowled at Kiram and deep shadows filled the weathered lines of his lean face.
“Are you going to tell them who it was?” Javier asked in a whisper. Kiram could feel the tension in his body, though his voice remained soft.
“I won’t.”
“Thank you,” Javier replied.
A moment later grooms surrounded them. A young groom helped to steady Kiram as he staggered down from Lunaluz. Javier dismounted quickly and went to speak with Master Ignacio. The rest of the Hellions reached the stable and handed their horses over to grooms. As soon as he dismounted, Nestor rushed to Kiram.
“Are you all right?” Worry transformed his soft features into an almost parental countenance. “You looked dead when we found you in the snow. What happened?”
“I…There was an animal in my work shed.” Kiram tried to think desperately. “A bear, I think. When I surprised it, it chased me through the orchard and then I got lost.”
“A bear?” Nestor looked a little shocked. “You outran a bear?”
“Maybe it was something else? I didn’t see it too clearly in the dark.” Kiram knew nothing of bears or really any of the wildlife of these northern lands.
“That’s amazing, Kiram!” Nestor clearly liked the idea of the attacker being a bear. “Did you hear that, Elezar? Kiram outdistanced a bear.”
“A raccoon more likely.” Elezar knocked the snow off his boots.
“Certainly not,” Nestor retorted. “Did you see what it did to Kiram’s mechanism? It was in pieces! That was no raccoon. It was definitely a bear.”
Elezar briefly frowned at Kiram before his expression softened in a manner that Kiram rarely saw, and certainly had never seen directed at himself. He looked sincerely kind and it brought a handsome quality to his harsh features.
“You’re lucky to still be among the living then, Kiram.” Elezar patted his back lightly. “Next time, though, don’t be a cunt and run silently into the woods. You should have screamed your fucking—”
“Language, Elezar.” Master Ignacio strode towards them. Javier walked a step behind the war master, his eyes fixed on Kiram with such intensity that Kiram felt his face flushing.
“Pardon, Master,” Elezar said quickly then he returned his attention to Kiram. “You should have called for help.”
“I will next time.”
“There won’t be a next time.” Javier stopped directly beside Kiram. “This isn’t going to happen again.”
“The groundsmen will set traps tomorrow morning,” Master Ignacio said. “If the creature returns, we’ll have it. In the meantime, you will all keep your rides to the roads and the stable grounds.”
The Hellions all agreed and then bid the war master goodnight. An air of boisterous relief suffused them as they ascended the stairs to their rooms. Atreau teased Kiram and Morisio playfully declared that the bear was some jealous rival mechanist in a fur coat. They laughed and reminded each other about the crow that Javier had picked out from the pitch black sky and followed to Kiram’s body.
“It probably thought Kiram was carrion,” Genimo said.
“He would have been if we hadn’t gotten there when we did,” another Hellion commented and then he gave Kiram a wide grin. All of them basked in the glory of their rescue, except Javier, who had gone unusually quiet.
On the way up, Kiram spotted more than one student peeking out of a doorway to spy on the returning Hellions. By morning everyone in the entire academy would probably know the story and Kiram would have to try and describe some encounter with a bear. He tried to think of anything he’d read about the beasts. He recalled some mention of their strong musky odor and the fact that they often rose up onto their hind legs and walked like men. He hoped that would be enough to satisfy the curiosity of his classmates.
Once he and Javier climbed the last flight of stairs to their shared room, Kiram shed his filthy coat and stripped off his jacket and shirt. He needed a bath, badly. Javier threw his own coat over his chair. He studied Kiram’s bare chest, then stepped closer and caught Kiram’s shoulders in a firm grip. “From now on I am going with you when you go to that work shed.”
“You’ll be bored out of your mind, hanging around in there. And anyway I’m sure this won’t happen…” Kiram trailed off as he realized that he had no reason to assume that the shadow curse would not attack him again if he were to repair the steam engine. The idea suddenly terrified him and for one cowardly moment he considered giving up the engine up altogether.
Was he really willing to risk his life—to face that terrible, killing darkness—just for the sake of two Cadeleonian noblemen?
He only had to glance to Javier to know his answer. He couldn’t give up. Though he harbored no hope that he and Javier could share their lives as lovers, he wouldn’t allow his friends to fall to that curse. Now that he had felt it—seen it tearing through living flesh—he couldn’t abandon Javier to it and still think himself a decent man.
“I won’t let you be alone down there. You were nearly dead when I found you. You were like ice in my arms.” Suddenly he pulled Kiram close. They embraced fiercely, clutching one another. Kiram dug his hands into Javier’s shirt and pressed himself so close that he could feel Javier’s heart beating against his own chest. Javier whispered, “Don’t go without me.”
“I won’t. I promise.” Kiram felt the desperate tension drain from Javier’s grip. His hands moved slowly up and down Kiram’s back and he, too, relaxed. He would never have thought he could take so much comfort in such a simple touch. Kiram rested his head against Javier’s shoulder, closed his eyes, and allowed himself to forget everything but the warmth of Javier’s skin, the comfort of his touch.
Kiram didn’t want to deny himself this contentment any longer. He wanted Javier and it didn’t matter if he would later suffer for it.
Kiram lifted his head to speak but then caught sight of the red stain his brow had left on Javier’s white shirt. His face had to be a mess. A quick glance at his hands assured him that they were still spattered with blood and gore. Mortification flooded Kiram.
“I have to take a bath.”
Javier didn’t release him, but drew back just enough to search Kiram’s face. Immediately, Kiram felt a difference in Javier’s stance. In an almost formal motion, Javier straightened and stepped back. “Will you need help tending your leg?”
“No, I think I’ll be fine.” Kiram tried to convey some of his warmth in his voice but Javier didn’t seem to notice. He sat on the edge of his bed and unlaced his riding boots. Kiram felt dismayed by how easily he’d given up. He seemed so tired, almost beaten down, as he tossed his boots aside.
Javier said, “You aren’t getting any cleaner standing there, are you?”
Kiram withdrew to the bath.
He washed quickly, pausing briefly to inspect the thin gash beneath the bandages engulfing his calf. He favored his left shoulder but didn’t linger on it. Instead he focused on Javier. The sensation of Javier’s hands on his skin, as well as the pleasure and calm he’d felt leaning into Javier’s shoulder, played again and again in his mind. He held it up against the fear he’d felt earlier and allowed it to build until only longing remained with him.
Once he’d washed, Kiram pulled his thin prayer shirt over his head and bolted out of the bathroom. Javier had already retired to his bed and only one lamp remained burning. Momentary doubt gripped Kiram, but he had come so close to losing his life today that the prospect of mere rejection did not seem so great a risk.
He could tell that Javier wasn’t asleep. His eyes were closed but his breathing had yet to slow into the deep rhythm of unconsciousness. Kiram crept to Javier’s bedside. His right calf was too tender to allow him to drop to both knees, so instead he knelt on one and gently touched Javier’s shoulder. Javier opened his eyes and, after taking in Kiram’s unexpected posture, raised a brow. “What are you doing?”
“I’m kneeling and asking you to let me into your bed.”
“Do you know what you’re saying?” The pupils of Javier’s dark eyes flared wide. He sat up and the blankets fell back from his naked body. Calixto’s medallion shone lustrous and golden against his muscular, pale chest as it always did.
“Yes.” Kiram could feel a hot flush rising across his skin as Javier’s gaze moved over him.
“Take off the nightshirt,” Javier commanded.
Kiram pulled the thin cotton shift up over his head and then let it fall to the floor. Javier stared at his exposed body and then threw the blankets back. “Come.”
Kiram climbed into the bed immediately and Javier pulled the blankets back around them both. They kissed with ferocious need. Kiram let his hands drift low across Javier’s sharp hips and curve over his thigh. Javier gasped against his lips as Kiram caressed him.
Javier’s hands trembled as he sought Kiram’s naked body. Tenderly at first and then with a desperate strength, they took pleasure in the touch and taste of one another. With every stroke a driving rhythm built in the friction of skin, hands and lips, until at last it broke in the hot spill of semen and Javier’s breathless moan against the curve of Kiram’s neck.
They both lay back, exhausted and tangled in each other’s arms. Kiram thought he felt Javier’s lips against his cheek and then he fell into a deep sleep.