Jade War

Wen was annoyed with her husband. Of course she understood that the demands on the Pillar’s time were great, and his responsibilities to the clan unavoidably took precedence over everything else, but that did not make her feel better at the moment. When Hilo was with the family, he was playful and attentive, roughhousing with the boys, chasing them, listening to the small children talk as if there was nothing else on his mind. However, when some issue in the clan needed attention, he was inclined to deal with it personally as soon as possible, which meant that anticipated family activities were never certain. A downpour the night before had brought the summer heat down to a pleasant temperature, making it a perfect day for a picnic outing, but Hilo was unable to spend time with them as he’d said he would; instead he’d been shut behind the closed doors of the study for several hours with the leaders of the minor Stone Cup clan regarding a construction workers’ strike that was derailing projects the Espenians wanted completed on Euman Island. After that, he’d agreed to see some representatives from a humanitarian aid group, and then he and the Weather Man had meetings downtown with Lantern Men all afternoon.

Wen made breakfast for her brothers and her sons, then fed the baby and packed a bag for the trip she’d planned to the park. Niko and Ru were unhappy that their father would not be coming on the adventure and were pestering Kehn for attention instead. He was often indulgent with the boys and snuck them treats when Wen wasn’t looking, but when he sat down to breakfast without offering anything of sufficient interest, they fell to bickering over the same water gun, shoving each other until Ru began to cry. Kehn ignored the noise and continued flipping through the newspaper, but Tar shouted, “Hey!” He pulled the boys apart and deposited them into separate chairs at the table. “No fighting. Brothers shouldn’t fight.”

“He pushed me,” Niko protested. “He’s always taking my stuff!”

“Be quiet and listen to your uncle Tar,” Wen admonished, filling water bottles.

Tar leveled a stern finger in Niko’s face. “He’s your little brother. You’ve got to be nice to him, because when you grow up, the two of you have to stick together, understand? You have to look out for each other. That way people know if they ever give trouble to one of you, they’re sure to get trouble back from the other.” Niko stared down at his plate, sulking. Tar said, “You don’t think it’s true? The men who murdered your da when you were just a baby, one of them thought he got away with it, but your uncle went after him and found him. You know what he did to that bad man?”

“He killed him.” Niko had heard this story already.

Tar picked up a trio of grapes and held them in front of the boy’s face. “He put jade stones in his mouth and buried him alive.” He popped the grapes into Niko’s mouth and clamped his hand over the boy’s mouth, giving him a teasing shake before letting him go and ruffling his hair affectionately. “That’s why no one messes with your uncles. So stick together; I don’t want to see you two annoying your ma, fighting over some stupid thing, you ought to act better than that.”

“Finish your breakfast and then we’re going to the park,” Wen reminded them.

Kehn offered to drive them—he had no plans besides meeting to train a few of his newer Fists, before spending a relaxed afternoon with Lina, who was pregnant and on bedrest—but Wen had promised the boys that they would take the bus. The park was only ten minutes away, just down the hill in the solidly No Peak–controlled Green Plain district. Wen regularly ran into the wives and children of other high-rank Green Bones at the playground and water park and there was never any safety concern. Kyanla had taken the day off to visit her aging mother in an Abukei tribal village outside of Janloon, so Wen carried the day bag and wrestled with the baby carriage herself. The task would be less aggravating if Jaya, at six months old, was not the fussiest of all Wen’s children. She would not stand to be put down in the carriage for even five minutes. Hilo joked that she would grow up to be even greener than her brothers, but Wen responded irritably that the ridiculous superstition existed only to prevent desperately frustrated mothers from smothering their most unmanageable children.