Jade War

Hilo went on. “Ayt will sell jade under the table to make the Mountain powerful enough to eventually destroy us and rule the country themselves. If we’re not willing to make some big moves of our own, that’s exactly what’ll happen.” He stared into the distance as he continued to push his son on the swing with one hand. “Unlike Ayt, though, I’ve no intention of keeping my clients. The Crews aren’t a state, and their people aren’t warriors. They’re like the greedy sailors that landed on Kekon hundreds of years ago. They’ve no clan loyalty, no real brotherhood. They want jade but don’t know what it means or how to handle it. We’ll take the money they’re offering and invest it where we need it, shore ourselves up, because the Mountain is going to come after us again; it’s just a matter of time.”

“How am I supposed to move that much jade across the Amaric Ocean?”

Hilo gave her a crooked smile. “Kehn and his people have experience with all of Zapunyo’s methods, we’ve confiscated ships and containers, we have companies and people on both sides of the ocean. I’m sure my Weather Man will figure something out.”

Shae grimaced. She was already deeply uncomfortable wielding the clan’s influence over the Royal Council in support of the Espenians’ political agenda. The agreement Hilo had made might turn into yet another area where she’d have to regularly plead the understanding and forgiveness of the gods. “The black market jade trade—we’re getting into a dangerous game, Hilo.”

“You have to go where your enemies are,” Hilo said. “And then further.”

Shae gave her brother a long look. She was accustomed to being the one who made decisions about the clan’s foreign interests; the idea of Hilo acting like a cold-blooded Horn in the place where the Weather Man’s office was placing its stakes made her nervous. She wished she could speak to Lan. She wanted to consult his thoughtful, steady moral compass, his broader view of aisho, his prudent mind. She imagined that if she’d been Lan’s Weather Man, they would’ve had detailed, rational discussions before each major clan decision. Hilo was guided by his own strict principles, that was certainly true, but on his own, he took instinctive action with all the decisive military cunning he considered necessary—and filled in the rationale later. “I heard one of the Kobens was gunned down in a parking lot last week,” she said.

“Anyone could’ve done that,” Hilo replied, with a satisfied shrug. Not only had the assassin—a man with no clan ties and a long record of petty crime and mental illness—been conveniently killed by police while fleeing arrest, but Koben Ento himself had proven unexpectedly and unintentionally helpful, loudly blaming a business rival in the Iwe family before dying of his injuries in the hospital some hours later. Of course there was suspicion that Ayt herself had whispered the man’s name, or that No Peak was behind it—but conflicting speculation was to be expected. The important thing was that the Mountain’s various factions were at each other’s throats, each convinced that the others were out to ruin them, and demanding Ayt Madashi quell the infighting by making a decision about the succession.

A group of workers passed, pushing a trolley stacked with folding chairs. Large red tents were being erected in the courtyard for tomorrow’s festivities. Woon Papidonwa and his bride would be getting married at the Temple of Divine Return, but Hilo had generously offered to host the reception at the Kaul estate, as a gift to the new couple and in recognition of Woon’s status in the clan. Since Shae had convinced the Weather Man’s Shadow to stay on in his role, more than a year had come and gone, but Woon had not made any further mention of resigning his post, perhaps because he seemed to be much happier now. Shae was glad for him, but the feeling was not unreserved.

Niko held his arms out to be taken off the swing, and Hilo obliged, setting him down and watching the boy scamper off down the garden path. “I haven’t seen Maro around lately,” Hilo said. “Are things over between the two of you?”

Shae did her best to sound nonchalant. “We’re on something of a break right now.” She suspected that statement sounded as noncommittal and confused as the issue itself, and was disappointed that she was not as beyond caring about her brother’s judgment as she’d thought she was. “We’re still friends,” she added. “He’s coming as my guest to the wedding tomorrow.”

Hilo gave her a knowing, almost sad look, as if he guessed how much the duel had cost her, more than even her jade. “If you’re friends like you say, you should be honest with him, Shae.”

Shae pretended not to have heard him. “Maro’s been involved in a humanitarian advocacy group called Four Virtues International. He asked if you’d be willing to meet with some of the representatives who’re looking for the clan’s support. It would mean a lot to them.”