Jade War

“The mines can begin operations again once all possible measures have been taken to prevent another abuse of power on the part of the Mountain clan,” Shae said. “I haven’t fully determined to my satisfaction if the Royal Council’s reforms are sufficient.” She smiled to herself, wishing she could see or Perceive the other Weather Man’s reaction. A national scandal had resulted when financial discrepancies she’d discovered in the KJA’s records nearly two years ago had revealed that the Mountain had been secretly taking jade above quota behind the backs of the government and the other Green Bone clans. Ayt publicly maintained that negligence and operational issues were to blame, but few people believed that line, even within her own clan. The Royal Council had passed legislation instituting ownership restrictions to prevent the Kekon Jade Alliance from falling under single clan control, mandated annual independent audits, formed an oversight committee, and taken a number of other measures intended to safeguard the country’s jade supply and ensure its transparent management. Meanwhile, for the past eighteen months, the mines of Kekon had sat idle. No new jade flowed into the national coffers; official exports had stopped; thousands of Abukei mine workers had gone on government assistance.

Ree said tightly, “If the vote does not go through, the matter will go back to the Royal Council for gods-only-know how long. We’ll lose out on the upcoming dry season and this terrible disruption to the country’s economy will last another year. Is that what you want?”

“I want the Mountain to be held accountable for its transgressions.” The longer the mining suspension lasted, the longer the public would be reminded of the Mountain’s crimes.

A pause. Ree’s voice changed, took on a shrewd quality. “You will eventually run out of jade to sell to the Espenians. How much can you really afford to empty No Peak’s stores?” In the momentary silence that followed, Shae could picture Ree’s smug expression. “Yes, of course we know you’ve been selling your own reserves, and that’s why the foreigners haven’t yet made a bigger stink. I imagine the Royal Council and the people of Kekon would be interested to know that No Peak is bolstering its finances by selling jade directly to the Republic of Espenia.”

“I imagine our official allies the Espenians would be interested to know about the Mountain’s secret contracts to sell jade to their enemies, the Ygutanians,” Shae replied coolly. “Especially if Espenian soldiers are deployed to fight in Shotar against rebels who’re trained and supported by Ygutan. They’re hardly going to be pleased to see Kekonese jade worn by soldiers on the other side of the battlefield.”

“This is pointless sparring, Kaul-jen,” Ree snapped. “You may believe that it is to No Peak’s advantage to continue dragging out the KJA scandal, but consider our mutual dilemma. The constriction on the jade supply has done nothing but encourage smugglers and raise the rate of violent crime. The people have had enough of bloodshed and economic disruption; they’re worried that the crisis in Oortoko will turn into a war between foreign powers and spread through the region. They expect Green Bones to defend Kekon if that happens—do you think they feel confident we’re doing that, Kaul-jen?”

Shae did not answer.

“We’re not Fists, you and I, who see the world only in black and red,” Ree said. “Neither is my Pillar, though I certainly can’t speak for yours. Ayt-jen proposes a meeting between our clans. One with all the proper assurances.”

CHAPTER 6 The New Green

Bero felt like a new man, like the man he was always meant to be. He no longer had to sleep on the floor of his aunt’s apartment; he had his own place now, on the third floor of a ten-story tenement house in the Forge. It wasn’t much to look at; his door sagged, the plumbing was old, and the walls were thin. His neighbor, Mrs. Waim, was a cranky old lady who smelled of herbal throat lozenges and banged on his door in complaint whenever he played music or made too much noise. None of that mattered. When Bero woke up each day around noon, he went into the bathroom and gazed into the mirror at the jade hanging around his neck. With his shoulders squared and his head cocked, he turned this way and that, examining his reflection from different angles. He picked up a talon knife and held it poised. He liked what he saw. Strength. Power. Respect.