Ginn Hale - Lord of the White Hell book Two

Kiram wondered how a small gesture could fluster Javier when a ghost springing up from his body hardly gave him a moment's pause. But then hells, lost souls and black curses had always been part of Javier's life. The existence of a ghostly guardian was probably far less startling than two men displaying the gentle affection of lovers.

As he took his seat beside Alizadeh, Kiram attempted to put his own shock at the sight of the ghost into perspective. Perhaps the ghost of an ancient genius, trapped in a medallion and charged with the guardianship of the Tornesal bloodline, was no more shocking than two men kissing on the open street. Maybe it would seem normal if he were a Bahiim and had spent years apparently fighting curses and hunting shapechangers and eating people's hearts.

Alizadeh had really said that, hadn't he?

There was nothing forbidding or cruel in Alizadeh's countenance now as he smiled tiredly at Javier. Still Kiram felt unnerved by the new perception that there were dangerous, adult aspects of Alizadeh-and doubtless Rafie- he knew nothing about.

Alizadeh said, "I've extracted a promise from your ghost to allow you to take on the full force of the shajdi."

Javier nodded, appearing so calm that Kiram envied him.

"But I won't teach you unless you are willing to accept the responsibility of a Bahiim." Alizadeh batted at the smoking holes in the front of his prayer shirt. Then he seemed to belatedly notice that the rest of his clothes as well as his cloak were scorched and burned through in places. He gave Rafie a crooked smile. "Why do I bother with clothing at all?"

"Because your ass gets sun-burned, otherwise. I'll find you something less charred to wear." Rafie strode across the garden and disappeared through the kitchen door.

"I would perish without you," Alizadeh called after him and then turned his attention back to Javier. "I imagine you'll want some time to think about this."

"As a Bahiim I will be able to break the curse, yes?"

"Yes," Alizadeh replied. "In fact it would be your sacred obligation to do so."

Javier frowned thoughtfully. "Can I ask why you're willing to teach me but you won't just break the curse yourself if it's a Bahiim's obligation?"

"I'm bound by an old oath and foolish modern politics," Alizadeh replied. "Right now the Bahiim circles are controlled by several younger conservatives who would like to forget what it once meant to be Bahiim. They're happy blessing feasts, officiating weddings and funerals. They don't want to reclaim the responsibilities of controlling and safeguarding the shajdi. They certainly don't want to take on curses or the monstrosities of the shadowed realms. To them it's a relief that all the ancient shajdis are sealed and that the old Bahiim have sworn not to open any new ones."

"The shajdis were sealed to keep King Nazario from controlling any of them when he was purging the country of Haldiim," Kiram quickly explained, before Javier had to ask.

"Every single shajdi?" Javier raised his dark brows.

"It was a desperate time," Alizadeh said. "All of us who were in possession of the shajdis sealed them and accepted a blood oath, which forbade us from opening any shajdi until the White Tree in the Circle of Red Oaks was again illuminated."

Kiram stared at Alizadeh, caught by the revelation in his words. "You were there? Then?"

Javier too stared at Alizadeh. Even exhausted and streaked with soot, he hardly looked forty.

"I was there and I took the oath, but none of us thought that it would hold for so long. We expected to be in hiding for a few months then gather at the Circle of Red Oaks. Between us we would still have had enough power to ignite the White Tree. But Nazario's purge lasted fifteen years. By the end he had hunted and killed so many of us that we were too few to reignite the White Tree. Now there are hundreds of Bahiim but they have grown indifferent to our obligations. They talk about demon hunting as if it were philosophy and shajdis as if they were metaphors."

Alizadeh's gaze shifted to Javier. "But it would only take one with the fire of an open shajdi to reignite the White Tree. And once that was done the oath would be ended. The Bahiim would have to disperse and battle the demons of this world once again."

Kiram wasn't quite sure how to respond to Alizadeh's words. After all only a year ago he himself had thought that shajdis were metaphors rather than reality. Javier, however, had never labored under any such misconception and Kiram could see that he was at ease with Alizadeh's ideas.

"I see," Javier said after a moment. "So, you need me as much as I need you."

"It's an opportunity for us both," Alizadeh agreed. "But unlike yourself, I can afford to be patient. Other shajdis will be stumbled upon. For me waiting only means enduring an easy life among lazy peers. But you, Lord Tornesal, are facing a curse that will not relent until it has destroyed your entire line."

Pain flickered through Javier's expression. Kiram shot Alizadeh a hard glare.

"It's the truth, Kiram." Alizadeh shrugged and settled back more comfortably against the oak. "I'm only asking that Javier consider it."

"There's nothing to consider. As you say, I don't have the leisure to pretend that there is," Javier stated flatly. "Most of my family has already been killed. My one remaining cousin is going mad."

"Javier, no!" Kiram couldn't keep silent. "You can't do this. If anyone in the Cadeleonian church found out that you'd taken a Bahiim's oaths, they'd charge you with heresy. They'd kill you."

"Not if I legally converted," Javier spoke as if this was the first thing anyone would have thought of. "Technically I'd be a heathen, not a heretic. Bishop Seferino set the precedent in 1298 when he judged a Cadeleonian woman who had converted to her Haldiim husband's beliefs. The royal bishop accepted the ruling, which makes it valid as lord's law. At the worst I'll be scourged, excommunicated and exiled."

Javier's quick, offhanded response made it clear that he'd already been considering conversion. That made perfect sense. He'd been reading ancient Haldiim texts even before he'd met Alizadeh and he'd obviously been familiarizing himself with Bishop Seferino's most obscure writings. He had put more than an afternoon of thought into this.

Still the danger of it made Kiram's heart race. "Are you listening to yourself? Scourged? You'd be whipped bloody. Excommunication would strip you of your title, your lands, and your name. Everything! And on top of that you'd be exiled to a desert in Yuan or the Mirogoth forests or some other terrible place."

"Weren't you suggesting that we run away to Yuan just a few months ago?" Javier arched a black brow and flashed that handsome, arrogant and-at this moment-infuriating smile of his.

"I wasn't thinking that you'd take steps to make it a legal necessity," Kiram snapped. He could feel his face flushing. How could he bring that up in front of Alizadeh?

"I'm not planning on being found out." Javier brushed Kiram's hand with his own but then drew back. "This has to be done. Fedeles is losing his mind, you were nearly killed, and I will be hunted by this curse all of my life. If I can save him, protect you and free myself, it's worth the risk."

Kiram clenched his jaw, not wanting to admit anything and yet unable to deny Javier's reasoning. He glanced to Alizadeh, who watched them both in calm silence.

"Isn't there any other way?" Kiram asked.

Alizadeh's response was a simple, "No."

The plainness of his response struck Kiram with far more force than any number of arguments could have. The single word felt irrefutable.

Kiram glared down at the scorched circle of grass, and noticed the two patches of green leaves where Alizadeh's feet had shielded the plants beneath. White clover blossoms poked up from between the verdant blades of grass.