Kiram hefted a stack of thin, leather-bound books that had been buried under a case of surgical clamps. One of the books caught Kiram's attention immediately, in that it was bound as many old Haldiim texts used to be, along the top and not the left.
"Is this Haldiim?" Kiram wiped the dust off the tattered book cover, exposing stained leather and small decorative stitching.
"Yes." The scholar's thin lips curved up in a faint smile. He removed the volume and gently leafed through its pages. Kiram caught glimpses of hand drawn diagrams and scribbled notes. Suddenly, with a rush of amazement, Kiram recognized one of the images.
"That's Yassin's Constellation of the Dog." Awe softened Kiram's voice to a whisper.
"It is."
"Then, this is Yassin's notebook?" Kiram desperately desired to hold the book in his own hands and read through it.
"One of the few remaining. I found it when I was a student. Holy Father Habalan was scouring all heretical writings from the library. I couldn't bear to see it destroyed so I stole it from his rooms. I should see that it finds a safer home than this." Scholar Donamillo carefully tucked the small book into his coat pocket.
As he watched the book disappear, disappointment cut through Kiram. "May I-"
"Scholar," a student called from the wide doorway of the infirmary. Kiram saw that it was Genimo. "I've brought more needles up from the smith."
"Very good." Scholar Donamillo went and took the little wooden boxes.
Genimo glanced to Kiram. "Here to visit Fedeles?"
Kiram hadn't realized that Fedeles was with them in the infirmary. A terrible instinctive fear shot through him. Blood drained from his face and he couldn't bring himself to speak. The shadows in the room seemed suddenly sinister and deep.
"Is he still sleeping?" Genimo didn't seem to notice Kiram's choked silence. He walked to a bed near the far wall where a silent form lay under thick blankets. "Fedeles, I know you're awake. Why so quiet?"
The figure burrowed deeper under the bedclothes as if trying to hide. When Genimo peeled the covering back, Fedeles issued a pathetic animal whimper and curled into a ball. Kiram's fear dissipated in the face of sympathy.
"Let him alone." Kiram took the blanket from Genimo and laid it back down over Fedeles. He wasn't to blame for the curse and he had suffered far more than Kiram because of it.
Genimo rolled his eyes. "Going to sing him a lullaby too?"
"Do you have to be an utter ass at all times?" Kiram snapped. Genimo scowled at him but appeared to have no retort.
Kiram turned his attention back to Fedeles. Despite his leering grin, his face was streaked with tears. When he lifted his hand to wipe at his eyes Kiram caught sight of fresh stitches running along his wrist.
Kiram gently caught his hand. "When did this happen?"
"Firaj. Firaj. Run away. I'm bad, bad, bad. I can't stop it." Fedeles' expression contorted and then he began to recite the names of other horses, urging each of them to run away.
"He cut himself." Genimo scowled at Fedeles. "Last night with one of my dueling knives. Scholar Donamillo sewed him up quickly enough."
"Does Javier know?" Kiram asked. Fedeles had gone quiet, shoving his face down into the mattress.
"Of course he knows. He told me to keep it in our circle. So don't go blabbing, all right?"
"Who would I tell?"
Genimo shrugged as if to imply that Kiram's motivations were some incomprehensible mystery, then went to help Scholar Donamillo file away the tomes that Kiram had cleared out from beside the mechanical cures. Part of Kiram wanted to join them, in hopes of getting another chance at Yassin's notebook, but ogling ancient equations seemed less important than comforting Fedeles right now. He'd have other chances at Scholar Donamillo's library while he was rebuilding the engine.
Very gently, Kiram smoothed Fedeles' hair back from his face. Fedeles looked up at him with an expression of mute sorrow.
"I know you aren't to blame," Kiram quietly told him.
Fedeles relaxed, leaning into Kiram's touch in the same way that Firaj did when he wanted reassurance.
Kiram said, "It's going to be all right, I promise. I'll find a way to help you."
Fedeles closed his eyes and soon he fell asleep. In rare moments of peace such as this, Kiram could see how closely Fedeles resembled Javier. He wondered what Fedeles had been like before the curse had twisted his mind. Then he wondered what might be left of him if he were ever to be freed of it.
Kiram caught himself then. It would not be a matter of if Fedeles were freed but when. His engine might have been broken but it would be rebuilt. He also reassured himself that Alizadeh was gleaning precious information through Kiram's weekly ritual of lighting his lotus medallion. Perhaps last night's attack had even provided Alizadeh with a vital clue. That thought alone reassured him.
The bells rang and Kiram pulled the blankets over Fedeles' exposed shoulder before heading towards the stables for his riding class. Master Ignacio had not excused him from his lessons. Kiram supposed a man would have to be dead to have the war master give him a day off.
His trip was cut short by Javier, who caught him outside the infirmary.
"You forgot your riding gloves." Javier held them up but didn't proffer them to Kiram. Instead he glanced to the infirmary doors. "Did you see Fedeles?" Javier asked and Kiram heard the second, unasked question in his tone.
"Yes, I told him what happened wasn't his fault. I think that helped him. He's sleeping now."
The anxious tension seemed to melt from Javier. "Thank you"
"It's the truth."
"I know but that's a hard thing to remember after last night."
"Last night wasn't all bad." Kiram took his gloves from Javier's hand. He allowed his fingertips to brush across Javier's bare palm, which elicited a smooth, sensual smile.
"Not bad at all," Javier agreed.
They walked together to the stables. They didn't hold hands or even stand too close but Kiram felt warmth and intimacy in Javier's lingering gaze. They discussed a translation of a Yuan prince's travel diary that Javier had just discovered in the library and thought Kiram would find amusing.
"The man's supposed to be a worldly authority but just from his descriptions of Anacleto and Rauma you can tell he's never left Yuan. It's hilarious." Javier tossed Kiram his riding gloves in an easy manner. "He says that the Cadeleonian men have a ritual of brotherhood, wherein they take hammers to each other's poorly protected bodies and after much pounding choose the one man left standing to be the leader of their now nearly crippled group."
"So, he met Elezar, then?"
"Maybe one of his ancestors," Javier replied. "The thing dates back a hundred years or so."
"Does he mention the Haldiim?"
"Oh yes, he does your people the honor of many an inaccurate and even impossible depiction. Did you know that you are all born as women and only develop into men when fed red meat boiled in goats' milk?"
"Really?" Kiram snorted.
"He includes a recipe."
"I have to read this."
"I'll bring it up to our room. We can go through it together tonight," Javier said, then added, "Good luck riding."
Javier left Kiram feeling so giddy at the prospect of being together in their room again that he nearly forgot that he and Firaj needed to arrive at the arena punctually or face Master Ignacio's wrath.
Throughout the riding lesson, fellow second-year students who caught Kiram's eye gave him short approving nods. He heard Ollivar whisper something about facing down a bear to two other boys. Master Ignacio ordered them to silence and glared at Kiram. Oddly the master's scowling countenance no longer frightened him. Last night he had faced something so truly terrifying that no scholar, no matter how disapproving or stern, could compare. The shadow curse had been like a nightmare come to life, insubstantial and murderous at once: darkness that killed with the ease of a passing shadow.