Free Lord of the White Hell Book One lotwh-1 by Ginn Hale

Donamillo excuses us both, then."
    A strange, howling noise cut through Kiram's agreement. Kiram stopped in his tracks. The howl stretched out, echoing through the hall. A deep grinding sound, like the deep rumble of an eyestone crushing through wheat, rose over the cry.
    "What was that?" Kiram asked Nestor.
    "Probably one of Scholar Donamillo's mechanical cures." Nestor pretended to shudder. "Sounds like he's testing it on some poor dog, doesn't it?"
    Kiram nodded. He had only ever seen mechanical cures as diagrams on theater flyers or in paintings outside circus tents. His uncle disparaged them utterly, but Kiram had always been curious. The sound of this one was terrible, and Kiram couldn't help but feel a pang of pity for the poor animal trapped within its iron grasp.
    As they came closer to the infirmary the howling cries faded to soft little gasps. The grinding of iron gears only grew louder. When they reached the huge, double doors of the infirmary, Kiram knocked but there was no response.
    "I doubt that Scholar Donamillo heard that," Nestor shouted over the grinding roar.
    Kiram raised his hand to pound on the door but then suddenly the heavy mechanical noise stopped. The following silence was so complete that it startled Kiram a little. Then peals of dreamy laughter and singsong syllables drifted through the infirmary doors. Kiram recognized Fedeles' voice at once and realized that he must have been the howling creature. Doubtless it was the treatment that both Genimo and Javier had mentioned.
    Kiram had to step back as one of the infirmary doors swung open. To Kiram's horror, Genimo stepped out of the infirmary and leaned against the door, propping it open. When he caught sight of Kiram he looked like he might spit on him but then seemed to think better of it.
    Scholar Donamillo stepped through the open door, leading Fedeles by one arm. He frowned at the sight of Kiram and Nestor.
    "You're here for your injuries?" Scholar Donamillo asked Kiram.
    "No, sir. But Scholar Blasio said that we should speak to you."
    "In a moment, then." Scholar Donamillo returned his attention to Genimo.
    "Fedeles is still weak. You'll need to keep a close watch over him for another hour or so."
    Genimo nodded. Kiram studied his cheek for any sign of their altercation, but his blow hadn't left a mark. Only the purple bruise on Genimo's forehead attested to his involvement in the previous night's fight. Though Kiram was sure that if Genimo's sleeve were rolled back there would be bite marks.
    Fedeles seemed unaware of any of them. He swayed, as if listening to a melody no one else could hear, smiling serenely and gazing at the far wall as if it were a vision of encompassing beauty.
    "Come, Fedeles." Genimo caught one of Fedeles' hands and led him out of Scholar Donamillo's grip as if he were taking a dance partner. He placed one of his hands against Fedeles' back, steadying him.
    "I'll send word to Scholar Habalan that you should be excused from his class this afternoon," Scholar Donamillo told Genimo.
    "Thank you, sir." Genimo politely bowed to Scholar Donamillo and then led Fedeles down the hall and up the stairs. Kiram watched them go, unsure of what to think. The night before Genimo had threatened and terrified Fedeles, and now he was leading Fedeles like a doting uncle tending an invalid child.
    "So, Scholar Blasio sent you?" Scholar Donamillo prompted.
    "Yes." Kiram quickly turned his attention back to Scholar Donamillo's severe gaze. After two weeks of classes with the scholar, Kiram no longer found his expressions daunting. From time to time he even thought he caught glimpses of affection crossing the older man's face.
    Nestor, on the other hand, was not one of Scholar Donamillo's favorite students. He bowed his head and kept his distance.
    "Scholar Blasio said that we should speak to you about being excused from the additional war arts training because I'm already spending most of my free time-" Kiram would have gone on but