"In my early work with the mechanical cures I came across a similar problem. The heat of constant friction distorted a number of my base plates. A few even melted." Scholar Donamillo's sheepish look at this admission gave Kiram a strong impression what Donamillo must have been like as a young man: both intense and shy. He leaned closer to Kiram and asked quietly, "Do you mind if I take a few measurements of my own? I want to ensure that the crank on Fedeles' mechanical cure will be compatible with your engine."
"Please do" Pride filled Kiram. He knew that his creation might not just win the Crown Challenge but would also aid Scholar Donamillo's work to save Fedeles.
While Scholar Donamillo measured the pistons, Kiram continued his own work, comfortable with the quiet mumbling of another inventor. More than once, as his thoughts drifted, he forgot that he was not once again in his father's workshop. Then fourth bell sounded and Scholar Donamillo excused himself.
Kiram himself had done as much as he could until his new parts were forged. He rewrote his order for the blacksmith in neat, clear print.
Nestor arrived and invited Kiram to join him for a ride, which Kiram accepted with pleasure. At some point during the months of morning lessons with Javier, riding had transformed from a fearful trial to a source of comfort. Now Kiram stroked Firaj's neck and felt the tension in his own body relax into the big gelding's even gait. Nestor and he discussed their upcoming history papers and the new class schedule now that the tournament was over. From time to time Nestor lapsed into some reverie about Riossa. She smelled like flowers; she could burp the entire alphabet. The things that attracted Nestor mystified Kiram.
Tentatively, Nestor asked about Kiram's visit to the Goldenrod last night. As Kiram described the gaudy rooms and the numerous naked women, he tried not to let his revulsion carry through. Still, he couldn't manage any enthusiasm and he guessed that was telling enough.
"Not the place for you?" Nestor casually brushed a yellow leaf from his roan stallion's mane.
"No," Kiram admitted. The pungent, sweet scent of fallen apples drifted on the cool air and Firaj briefly snuffled at the ground to locate an overripe fruit. Kiram indulged him.
"To be honest," Nestor said quietly, "it doesn't sound all that appealing to me either. I mean, who wants to have sex with a bunch of other men in the room-especially my brother?"
Kiram laughed at that.
They returned just before the first of the evening bells rang. After brushing down their horses and rinsing themselves in the icy water of the stable troughs, Kiram and Nestor rushed to dinner. Shouldering past the crowds of first and second-year students thronging the lower tables, they took their places at the Hellions' table. Atreau and Morisio had already claimed their seats and Atreau offered them an offhanded greeting as they dropped down onto the wooden benches. Kiram felt a slight flush spread across his cheeks, meeting Atreau's gaze and remembering the other man's drunken rutting. Fortunately Kiram's dark complexion disguised the worst of his blush and Atreau's attention quickly shifted as other Hellions arrived for dinner.
Kiram glanced to the empty space reserved for Javier. His longing to see Javier felt as sharp as hunger but also edged with dread. Javier could turn cruel easily.
When Elezar arrived a few minutes later, Kiram considered asking him if Javier had seemed to be in a bad mood but resisted. Instead, he peered around as the dining hall filled with students. In the past week, Kiram had almost forgotten the heat and smell of so many young men gathering in one room. When Kiram happened to take a deep breath, he realized that the pungent scent of horses and sweat saturated his jacket and trousers, making him as much of an odorous offender as any of the grubby first-year boys who sat wiping their noses on the backs of their shirtsleeves.
Javier arrived just before the teachers and Holy Father Habalan. He strode between the rows of tables with a handsome and arrogant expression of assurance. The jacket he wore glinted with silver threads and his black hair gleamed. His trousers were perfectly cut, accentuating the hard muscles of his long legs. Kiram could hardly look away. When he smiled, the warmth of his expression lent an alluring softness to his sharp features, though there remained a wicked gleam in his eyes.
He knew, Kiram realized. He knew exactly how good he looked and how the sight of him would affect Kiram.
And suddenly Kiram felt very worried. He had been prepared for Javier's most biting remarks, even secretly hoped for them, so that he could just hate Javier and be done. Now he had no idea how he could inure himself to Javier's charms.
And Javier did not relent throughout the meal. He was unerringly funny and pleasant. He didn't lavish his attention upon Kiram, rather, he complimented Kiram's work as his squire in an easy, offhanded manner. He bantered with Morisio and Elezar and very casually allowed one of his long legs to brush against Kiram's calf. A spark of sharp desire flickered through Kiram's body at the small contact.
It required nearly all of Kiram's attention to ignore Javier's appealing presence. The food hardly made any impression upon Kiram and more than once he had to ask Nestor to repeat himself.
"You seem a little distracted this evening, Kiram," Nestor commented at last.
Javier gave him a knowing smile. Kiram could feel a flush rising but he refused to acknowledge it.
"I've been thinking about Scholar Donamillo's mechanical cures," Kiram replied.
A vexed expression flickered across Javier's face.
"They're fascinating, aren't they?" Morisio commented. "I've been studying them myself. I even built a few miniatures but powering them is the real trick."
Morisio went on and Kiram tried to concentrate on his freckled face, but the light sensation of Javier's calf against his own obsessed him. He could feel the warmth of Javier's skin radiating through his stockings and he remembered the weight of Javier's bare body against his own and the heat of his mouth. Kiram hardly heard Morisio's continuing ruminations on the key to Scholar Donamillo's unprecedented success. "I can't help but wonder if there isn't something more than pure mechanism behind it."
At this Genimo darted a glance to Kiram and Kiram realized that Genimo already knew that Scholar Donamillo used blessings and spells as well as mechanically-generated power for the cure that protected Fedeles. The knowledge that only he and Genimo shared the scholar's secret lent an uncomfortable sense of fraternity to his normally cold regard of Genimo.
"I can't help but wonder if you realize that no one cares a pig's tit about Scholar Donamillo's mechanisms," Elezar told Morisio. In response, Morisio just threw a hunk of bread at him. Elezar leaned back and caught it in his mouth.
"If your fortunes ever fail, no doubt you'll have a place in some circus," Javier told Elezar.
"You're one to talk." Elezar tossed a golden plum at Javier. Javier caught the plum and spun it on the tip of his finger. Then he rolled it between his hands. White sparks of light flickered between his fingers and suddenly the plum appeared to vanish. All conversation at the table quieted as the Hellions watched in fascination.
Javier held out his empty hands, displaying his palms, then with a flourish he reached across the table and caught Kiram's hand in a gentle grip. A conspirator's warmth flashed in his smile. As he pulled his hand back, Kiram felt the plum drop from the cuff of Javier's sleeve into his palm. Hellions hooted and clapped at the seemingly magical reappearance. Students at other tables gawked.
Kiram couldn't help but be delighted-not just with Javier's ingenuity but also at being included in the sleight of hand. He had no doubt that Javier had conceived the gesture hoping that it would charm him but the knowledge did nothing to diminish Kiram's pleasure.