Jade War

“Janloon’s a Green Bone city. Sure, most of the people who live there don’t wear jade, but it’s still a Green Bone city, and you’re not most people. There’s no way to change things that happened in the past. If you go back to Janloon now, you’ll only ever be the least of the Kauls, the one who was ruined by jade and can’t wear it anymore. You’ll be treated the way a recovered alcoholic or a released convict is treated—with pity. Is that what you want? If you intend to be something other than that, you’ll have to figure it out for yourself. So you might as well do that here, where no one is judging you.”

“Are you concerned about me, or just the family’s reputation?”

“My wife’s a stone-eye,” Hilo said, “from a family that had a shit reputation before I made Kehn and Tar my closest Fists. You think that’s what matters to me?” He sounded angry again. “You’re fucking twenty-one years old, Andy, too young to be a case of ruined prospects in a green-as-fuck city like Janloon.” The waitress came by and Hilo smiled at her and paid for their breakfasts. He turned back to Anden and said, “You’ve already settled in here, learned the language, started to make a life for yourself. What about Dauk Coru? Don’t you want to stay with him?”

Anden felt his face reddening; he couldn’t look his cousin in the eye. He almost blurted, “We’re just friends,” but managed to catch himself. The Pillar would see right away that it was a lie, and then Anden would only feel worse. Hilo didn’t believe in queerness being bad luck or a punishment of the gods—the same way he didn’t judge the Maiks for their family history or Wen for being a stone-eye. But Anden had never spoken to his cousin about romantic things—indeed, he’d never spoken to anyone—and his first instinct was to deny. He did want to stay with Cory; he wanted to see him far more often than he did now. And despite himself, he’d begun to like Port Massy, to see its muddled nature and strange customs as unique and vibrant in their own way. But he also wanted to go home, to hear his native language spoken on the streets, to be surrounded by the sights and smells of Janloon that he’d grown up with but always taken for granted. The conflict felt irreconcilable.

Anden forced himself to look up. “Cory knows I only planned to study here for two years. And he’s going to be in law school for a while. We haven’t talked about the future.” Hilo was looking at him steadily and he felt supremely uncomfortable, but he kept talking, deciding he didn’t care anymore. “I don’t know if he’d want to live in Janloon, but if we were really serious, maybe he’d consider it. He’s Kekonese after all.”

Hilo shrugged. “In a way, I suppose.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Andy, your face might blend in here, but you’re more Kekonese than Dauk’s son will ever be. He wears jade, but you can tell that he’s never had to kill for it, or fear being killed for it. He couldn’t make it as a Green Bone in Janloon, you know that. You’re greener in here”—Hilo tapped his chest—“and here”—he tapped the side of his head—“which is why the clan needs you—why I need you—to be No Peak’s man in Espenia for now.” There was authority but also a plain and unreserved honesty in the Pillar’s words. When Kaul Hilo gave a difficult order, he did so in a way that showed he understood it was difficult; it was why his men would do anything he asked of them. Anden could not think of anything else to say.

They left the coffee shop and Hilo hailed a taxi to take him back to the Crestwood Hotel where he would meet up with Maik Tar and gather his bags before leaving for the airport. Anden didn’t know how to say goodbye; he didn’t even know when he would see Hilo again. He wasn’t sure whether to embrace his cousin, or salute him, or turn and walk away without looking at him. As the taxi pulled up to the curb in front of them, Anden murmured, “Have a safe trip, Hilo-jen. Say hello to everyone back home for me.”

Hilo placed a hand on the back of Anden’s neck and drew him close for a moment. “Take care of yourself, cousin,” he said. Then he was getting in the taxi and closing the door, and the cab was driving away, lost in Port Massy traffic.

Anden stood on the street corner for a long minute, then he went back into the coffee shop where he found a pay phone just inside the door. He picked up the slightly sticky receiver and dropped a coin into the slot. After three rings, Cory’s sleepy voice said, “Hello?”

“It’s me,” Anden said. “Are you doing anything today?”

“No. Just packing.” Cory was returning to AC tomorrow morning. Something in Anden’s voice must’ve sounded strange, because Cory said, “What’s going on, crumb?”

Anden rested his forehead against the top of the metal phone casing. “I’m at a coffee shop in Lochwood, on the corner of Thurlow and Fifty-Seventh Street. If you’re not busy right now… do you think you could come pick me up?”

“Um, sure, okay. Just let me get dressed.” A rustle of movement. “You want to do something?”