Ginn Hale - Lord of the White Hell Book One

Kiram hardly noticed the performance. All of his attention focused on the sensation of Javier's hand touching his own. His fingertips sent a thrill up Kiram's right arm. He traced the delicate skin of Kiram's palm and wrist. His touch was light and flirtatious. Kiram returned Javier's motions. He pushed his fingers between Javier's and Javier clenched his hand around Kiram's, gripping him tightly.

Javier leaned closer, his thigh brushing the back of Kiram's leg. As their hips brushed together an aching desire pulsed through Kiram's groin. He longed to press into Javier, but Nestor was standing only a breath from them. Dozens of children were gathered all around them.

Kiram pulled away but he didn't release Javier's hand. Not yet.

A theatrical howl rose up from behind the curtain. Then the lamp there suddenly went dark, leaving only the single flame illuminating the empty stage. A lanky, reddish dog padded out from behind the curtain. Gasps and squeals escaped the children. Nestor leaned forward.

"That's definitely a wolf." Nestor peered intently at the animal.

Kiram had never seen a wolf and had no idea if this animal was one, but it looked too thin to somehow encapsulate the entire mass of the man who had stood on the stage earlier.

The would-be wolf regarded its audience and then suddenly bucked up onto its hind legs and awkwardly tottered back behind the curtain. Children gaped in amazement. A moment later there was another howl and the man returned. He bowed and thanked them for their time and attention.

Then, on cue, the flaps of the tent were pulled open and blinding afternoon sunlight poured in. Javier dropped Kiram's hand instantly. The man on the stage bounded back behind his curtain and the show was over.

Nestor, Kiram, and Javier wandered out onto the fairgrounds along with several dozen dazed and excited children and their laughing parents.

"It's genius!" Nestor said. He seemed nearly as delighted as the children. "He's hiding in plain sight! That performance was so obviously false that it had to be real."

"What?" Javier asked. He sounded more annoyed than Nestor's proclamation merited. Kiram himself was feeling a little frustrated, but it had nothing to do with the performance. Nestor didn't seem to notice.

"Exactly!" Nestor said. "It looked like a shoddy performance to disguise a genuine transformation."

"Or," Javier replied, "maybe it looked like a shoddy performance because it was. You can't honestly believe that a real Mirogoth shapechanger would march out to the middle of Cadeleon, advertise himself, and sell tickets."

"Probably not. But on the other hand, what's the harm in believing it?" Nestor shrugged. "It makes the whole fair more interesting. And I think it could be true. You have to admit that it would be a clever way to hide himself."

"There's a point when something clever just becomes stupid. I'd say that hiding in plain sight is that point." Javier sighed as if he was releasing some deep frustration. He glanced to Kiram. "What do you think?"

"Well, if we're going to assume the Mirogoth really is a shapechanger-"

"Let's assume he is," Nestor said and Javier just shook his head but appeared resigned to the idea.

"Then, I guess that it would depend on how well he could disguise his true nature," Kiram said. He didn't look at Javier as he responded, but he was thinking of the way Javier teased men and made lascivious insinuations. "If there were aspects of himself that he couldn't suppress then maybe it would make sense for him to flaunt them and make them a kind of joke. People would laugh and never suspect that he was showing them the truth all along."

"Exactly," Nestor said.

"But it would be a very dangerous way to live his life." Kiram glanced to Javier.

"You're sounding more lucid than before," Javier commented. "How does your arm feel?"

"It aches, but it's not bad. I'd like to see the Irabiim before it gets too late. Then I need to find the Laughing Dog -" Kiram cut himself off as a figure in the surrounding crowd caught his attention.

A group of five well-dressed girls walked primly between the stalls of flower sellers and cloth merchants. All but one of them wore their braids up in maiden's combs. Most were decorated with floral designs but one was painted with butterfly wings.

"Yellow butterflies." Kiram nudged Nestor. "Yellow butterflies! She's coming this way."

Kiram pointed as discreetly as he could.

Javier's lip curled as he caught sight of the girl. "What do you care about her?"

"She threw a favor to Nestor."

"Oh, I see." The edge of anger disappeared from Javier's expression immediately. "Do you still have the kerchief, Nestor?"

"Of course!" Nestor responded.

"Well then, take it to her," Javier said. "Tell her that you noticed that she had dropped it and you've been looking for her all this time to return it."

"But, what if it's a mistake? I mean, what if she didn't mean it for me? What if-"

"Just do it. It always works for Atreau. You can't go wrong acting the part of a gallant gentleman. Now, go get her." Javier shoved Nestor forward.

Nestor seemed dazed. He stumbled ahead, digging the kerchief out of his pocket. As Nestor drew closer to the girl, she caught sight of him. Her expression was so excited and nervous that it made Kiram smile. Then Kiram noticed the tiny pair of spectacles perched on the bridge of her nose. She reached up, removed them, and secreted them in her small yellow silk purse.

She was staring wide-eyed when Nestor reached her, and they both blushed deep red as Nestor offered her the kerchief. She pressed it back into his hand.

In a matter of moments the rest of the girls crowded around. Nestor said something that made them all laugh and then they started after him back towards the transforming Mirogoth's tent. The girl with yellow butterfly combs clung to Nestor's arm.

Javier touched Kiram's shoulder.

"Let's go before Nestor feels he has to introduce us. He'll make a better impression without a hell-branded duke flustering his little flock of hens."

"Are you sure?" Kiram didn't want to abandon Nestor.

"Positive," Javier replied. "I'm poor company for giggling girls like those ones. They put me off and I put them off. And you're hardly likely to win Nestor any compliments either."

"What's wrong with me?"

"You're a Haldiim for one thing." Javier pulled Kiram back slowly as he spoke. "And you're not available to them for another."

Kiram didn't bother to argue. He'd been caressing Javier's hand and pressing against Javier's thigh only a few minutes ago. He gave a quick wave, turned, and followed Javier through the fair.

They passed tanners' stalls where beautifully tooled saddles and bridles were displayed along with deerskins and bull hides. Despite the strong smell of leather Kiram picked out a familiar scent. The aroma of the sharp spices, which perfumed adhil bread, briefly floated over Kiram but when he looked around him all he saw were stocky Cadeleonian men, testing the stirrups or bartering over the cost of calfskins.

"Is something wrong?" Javier asked.

"I was just thinking that we must be close to the Irabiim."

"Oh?" Javier cocked his head slightly, studying Kiram. "How did you know?"

"I can smell them," Kiram said. "Not in a bad way, but their food. Someone must be frying adhil bread. Our cook used to make it for us on cold mornings."

"I haven't ever heard of it."

"It's delicious, though it's not really bread at all. It's more of a thin pancake. The batter is fried in a pan, flipped out and eaten right away."

"It sounds good," Javier commented but he seemed distracted by other thoughts. "Here, let's go up around this way. There are fewer people."

Kiram followed him through a narrow lane of rickety stalls and drab tents. They walked past a stall offering spurs and twisted bits. Kiram glanced away from the jagged edges of metal. He was glad that Firaj was already trained and didn't require such brutal tools to be controlled.