Ginn Hale - Lord of the White Hell Book One

The wild shouts of the fair criers, bartering merchants and music blurred through Kiram's drugged thoughts. The vivid colors of the painted sign and red striped tent in front of him seemed to jump and waver before his eyes.

A man brushed past Kiram leading his newly purchased goat. A few yards away, two youths shouted out enticements as they held up squealing black piglets. A dog raced past with a haunch of roasted lamb in its mouth and two plump women came running after it shouting insults and threats, which Kiram doubted would help to attract the dog. He took a breath and thought he could smell every creature that had ever lived.

Beside him, Nestor held his kerchief and studied the yellow butterflies embroidered in the corners. He looked almost guilty when he noticed Kiram watching him and he quickly tucked the kerchief back into the pocket of his academy uniform.

"Your arm's not hurting you, is it?"

Slowly, Kiram's attention drifted down to his own forearm. A long red seam of broken skin was surrounded by a wide expanse of deep purple bruises. Black silk stitches laced the wound closed like the ribbons of a lady's dress. It was almost pretty, though it looked like it should hurt.

"I'm not feeling a thing." Kiram swayed and Nestor braced him.

"Steady now," Nestor said. "Scholar Donamillo gave you a very strong dose. Maybe we should find a place to sit down."

"No, I'm fine." Kiram shook his head. The sensation of his hair swinging against his neck distracted him; then he focused his concentration. "We have to see the fair with Javier. We're going to meet dirty Irabiim and have our fortunes told and probably get robbed."

"I'd rather not be robbed," Nestor commented.

"Where's Javier?" Kiram suddenly demanded. He stared around him. Three girls hurried after their mother with piglets clutched in their arms. A group of Yllar students passed by and then ducked into a striped tent. But Javier was nowhere to be seen.

"He's getting us some food," Nestor said. "He's only been gone a few minutes, you know."

"I know. I know," Kiram said and suddenly he had the urge to be completely honest with Nestor.

"I want to see him. But can I? No. Who could? I mean, I honestly want to, but it's just so stupid. Look at where we are." Kiram waved vaguely at a man with puppets on his hands. "Is this the kind of place for that?"

"Puppets?" Nestor didn't seem to have really grasped Kiram's confession. Kiram tried again.

"This isn't Anacleto," Kiram pronounced firmly. "And even if it were, Javier is still going to have to buy a damn monkey and -my god! Look at that pig!" All of Kiram's thoughts of Javier's obligations to wed and his own duties to his family instantly dispersed before the amazing girth of a huge black boar with painted gold tusks. The colossal animal trailed behind an old woman who led it by a chain attached to a ring in the end of its nose. Despite the packed crowd, people stepped aside giving the woman and her boar a wide berth.

Nestor grinned. "He's big, isn't he?"

"He is one of the old gods brought low by mortal flesh!" Kiram pronounced. The idea felt amazingly profound. A moment later, with the boar out of sight, Kiram forgot it completely.

"Where's Javier gotten off to?" Kiram demanded.

"He's gone to the kingdom of Yuan."

"What? That bastard!"

"Oh, look, there he is." Nestor pointed past the pig sellers, to a tall man with jet-black hair. An older, bland- looking man and two women stood with him. One of the women looked about sixty and wore a widow's veil over her white hair. The younger woman resembled the man in her plain features but Kiram guessed she was only sixteen or so. All three of the people wore black bands of mourning around the sleeves of their fine silk clothes. The black- haired man was dressed in a blue academy uniform and smiled widely up at the sky.

"That's Fedeles," Kiram said.

"Is it?" Nestor squinted intently. Fedeles caught sight of the two of them and waved both his arms in the air as if he were flagging down a passing ship. "Yeah, that's Fedeles all right."

Fedeles pushed and danced his way through the crowd. The Quemanors followed him, though they looked annoyed by the effort. Fedeles easily outdistanced them, having no inclination to either apologize for or excuse his intrusions.

"Firaj! Firaj!" Fedeles shouted and he hugged Kiram to him with bruising force, shoving his face into Kiram's hair with the rough propriety of a dog snuffling someone's crotch.

"Careful, Fedeles." Nestor pulled him back. "Kiram's hurt."

Fedeles looked shocked and quickly disengaged. He peered at Kiram's stitches and whimpered. Then he patted Kiram's head. "Don't run away. It hurts but don't run away."

"I won't." It was surprising how much Fedeles resembled Javier physically and yet his mind was so different. Though there were moments, just instants, when Kiram thought he could see Javier's expressions on Fedeles' face. A thoughtful frown would flash across his sharp features only to be engulfed in a maniacal grin.

It was almost like Kiram's thoughts right now, as he floated through a drugged haze. There were moments of clarity, which the duera distorted and consumed, so that he could hardly communicate. Was that how Fedeles felt?

"You are trying to tell me something, aren't you?" Kiram asked.

"Yss, yes!" Fedeles hugged Kiram to him again fiercely, hissing into his ear. "He wants to kill Lunaluz. Help us."

"Who?" Kiram demanded.

"Pretty!" Fedeles released his grip on Kiram and lunged after a flower seller. Nestor sprang forward and caught his arm.

"Fedeles. No!" Nestor said. "Look, your family is here. See?"

Fedeles' grandmother gazed at him with a look of long suffering affection. Fedeles smiled, but sadly, as if he knew how his behavior horrified her, as if some sane, dignified aspect of himself was trapped within his madness, witness to all this humiliatingly childish activity but utterly helpless to stop it.

Kiram wondered if being drugged really was offering him an insight into Fedeles' mind or if the idea was itself a delusion of the duera coursing through his bloodstream. At the moment it felt like genuine insight.

He turned to Fedeles and clutched his hand.

"Don't give up, Fedeles," Kiram said. "I'll find a way to get you free. Nestor and I, we're both looking for a way."

"Brave ponies!" Fedeles threw his arms around both of them.

"Lord Quemanor." Nestor pulled free of Fedeles' grip and bowed his head to Fedeles' father. "It's good to see you at the tournament. We missed you last year."

"Thank you for your compliments, young Master Grunito. Your good manners lead me to believe that you will understand why we have no wish to remain in your company at present."

Kiram wriggled free of Fedeles' arm, scowling at Fedeles' father. What had he just said? It had sounded like a kind of insult but Kiram wasn't thinking well enough to be sure.

Then out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of Javier. He stood back in the shadows of a theater tent just watching them all. There was something in his expression that stopped Kiram from calling out to him, though he wanted to.

Beside him Nestor bowed slightly to Fedeles' father.

"Of course. I understand, sir. Your family has my deepest sympathies."

"Thank you. Though I am sorry to be told that members of my extended family have been offered far more of the Grunito sympathy than have those of us who suffered the greater loss."

Kiram had no idea what the man was talking about but Nestor seemed embarrassed by it.

"Come, Fedeles." Fedeles' grandmother took his hand. "Shall we go look at the horses in the auction?"

Fedeles nodded vigorously. She led him away without a further word to either Nestor or Kiram.

"That was ugly," Nestor said.