Ginn Hale - Lord of the White Hell Book One

"I hope you're managing to find time for the Crown Challenge." Scholar Donamillo laid several tomes down on his already cluttered desk. He indicated with a wave of his hand that Kiram ought to rest the books he carried anywhere on the wooden shelves.

"Not so much right now." Kiram glanced away. He hadn't worked on his steam engine for nearly a month. The Tornesal curse was just so much more important than winning a challenge. People had died because of the curse. Fedeles was going mad because of it.

"I know it isn't a classroom subject, but I was wondering if you could tell me a little more about your mechanical cures?" Kiram asked.

Scholar Donamillo offered him only the hint of a smile.

"Hoping to get out of Master Ignacio's grip for several hours?"

"No, sir. I really do want to know more. I've been trying to work it out on my own, reading all the texts you've recommended but-"

"I think it might be allowable. Just this once, you understand." Scholar Donamillo gave him a stern look.

"Yes, sir." Kiram almost bowed and Scholar Donamillo's countenance softened slightly. When he relaxed, Scholar Donamillo's resemblance to Scholar Blasio increased. For a moment Kiram imagined that he could see just what Scholar Blasio would be like fifteen years from now: far less permissive, but still intelligent and kind.

"Look here." Scholar Donamillo beckoned Kiram closer to the two huge mechanical cures. "Study them and tell me what you can."

Kiram spent the next two hours with Scholar Donamillo, examining the faceted spheres of the mechanical cures and studying the stacks of copper plates that generated the mechanisms' charges.

While both mechanisms were very similar Kiram noticed that one of them contained a harness while the other had none. The thick panes of glass that made up one of the spheres seemed darker than the other. The edges looked sooty and black. The glass of the other mechanical cure looked milky. Kiram also noticed that the markings etched into the metal supports of the two mechanisms differed greatly.

At first Kiram had thought that they were marks to aid in the assembly of the mechanisms, but as he looked closer he realized that they resembled the symbols drawn across Javier's floor.

"What are these?" Kiram asked at last.

"Prayers," Scholar Donamillo replied, as if it were a perfectly reasonable response.

Kiram stared at him. "Prayers?"

Scholar Donamillo nodded.

"That's completely contrary to the philosophy of mechanism." Kiram frowned at the black lines. "It's turning science back into superstition."

"Half of medicine is faith, Kiram. I have immense admiration for mechanism. It's a great achievement to create tools that will serve all people regardless of their breed or religion. But these mechanical cures must do more than be admirable." Scholar Donamillo traced a sinuous black symbol. "These mechanisms keep Fedeles Quemanor alive. That's all that matters in the end."

"I didn't mean to criticize." Kiram gazed at the fine, flowing black symbols and the thin copper wires that threaded through the harnesses.

Now he couldn't help but feel a little excited and curious about why this particular union of science and faith had proved so effective when previous mechanical cures had done nothing for the Tornesals. But then neither had other prayers. Even holy invocations issued by bishops had failed to stop the curse.

"What do these prayers say?" Kiram asked.

"It would be easier to tell you what they do than what they say."

"What do they do, then?"

Scholar Donamillo stepped a little closer to Kiram, his expression grave.

"Are you willing to keep a secret, Kiram Kir-Zaki? Can I trust you?"

Kiram nodded. Scholar Donamillo smiled just a little.

"Do you know anything about transfusions?" Scholar Donamillo asked in a whisper.

"I read a mention of a physician who tried to treat a dying boy by siphoning blood from his mother and father down into his veins. The boy lived for a short while but eventually died of blood poisoning."

"This is a different kind of transfusion, but similar in concept. Every month or so, I give a little of my life to Fedeles. I believe it disguises his Tornesal blood and keeps the curse at bay. It isn't a cure…not yet. He still has an extreme reaction but I have seen improvements in him over the last three years. He's talking more now and he even has moments of rational thought."

"You give him your life?" The magnitude of it stunned Kiram. Wasn't that what Javier had said a month ago? The only way he could save Fedeles was to sacrifice his own life? Kiram would never have expected anything like this from Scholar Donamillo. He'd always seemed so reserved and distant.

"It's the best I can offer him for the time being." Scholar Donamillo kept his voice low. "At first I had thought that Javier might be a better match for him but Javier isn't. compatible with the mechanical cures. Needless to say, what I'm doing is not something that Holy Father Habalan or many of my colleagues would approve of. So you must keep this a secret. They may tolerate the white hell when it's wielded by a duke, but here in the northern counties they still hang common men for witchcraft."

Kiram blanched at the thought of Scholar Donamillo being dragged to a scaffold and hanged.

"I won't tell anyone. I swear on my life," Kiram whispered.

Scholar Donamillo seemed amused by Kiram's unsolicited oath and he felt suddenly embarrassed. It was something a little boy would have said.

"Do you think there's any way I could help you, sir?"

"In fact I have been thinking about that for some time now. That mechanism that you're building, it's an engine of some kind, isn't it?"

"Yes, sir."

Scholar Donamillo pointed to the large hand cranks at the bases of the mechanical cures.

"Right now I have to crank these mechanical cures by hand or have Genimo do it for me. But if I had an engine, that might make all the difference. I might be able to maintain the treatment long enough to actually drive the curse out of Fedeles." Scholar Donamillo gazed intently at Kiram. "Would you be willing to become my accomplice, Kiram? I will understand if you aren't willing to take the risk."

"I'd be honored to help, in any way I can, sir."

"Good." Scholar Donamillo patted Kiram's shoulder and when he smiled at Kiram the deep wrinkles at the corners of his mouth lifted so that he looked much younger. "I knew I'd made the right decision about you."

Kiram would have thanked him for the compliment but his words were cut short by the sound of Javier hissing his name across the infirmary. Scholar Donamillo indicated that he should go with just a wave of his hand. Kiram stepped out from behind the black blinds and picked his way between the cots of sleeping students.

Javier stood in the middle of the infirmary, still dressed in his riding clothes.

"Nestor said Scholar Donamillo had to take you to the infirmary." As Javier closed the distance between them his gaze moved over Kiram's body, searching for some sign of an injury.

"I was feeling nauseous," Kiram said. "I'm better now."

"Really." Javier stepped closer. The deep scents of leather and sweat wafted over Kiram. When he had first arrived at the academy he had found the smell of men's sweat overpowering, but now it was familiar, almost comforting.

"Nestor said you hurt your arm," Javier murmured to him. "The two of you should really get your stories straight."

"My arm hurt so badly that I felt nauseous."

"You're a terrible liar." Javier still looked slightly concerned. "You really aren't sick, are you?"

"No. I'm not. Scholar Donamillo just." Kiram shrugged. "I guess he took pity on me and let me hide in the infirmary. I've been looking at his mechanical cures and we were discussing how my engine might help power them." Kiram felt he could say that much without betraying his promise to Scholar Donamillo. "I'm really not sick at all."