Jade War

“You said you needed a new location,” Hilo said, speaking again to Eiten. “The entire lower level of the Double Double is being renovated and expanded. We could make space for your distillery, and there’s an ample cellar. Would that do? You’d supply hoji to all the betting houses on Poor Man’s Road.”

Eiten’s eyes widened. “Hilo-jen, that’s far more than we could expect…”

“I need someone I trust in that part of the Armpit district,” Hilo went on. “There’s always the risk that the Mountain will try to take back what we won from them last year. The Horn sees to it that the area is always protected, but I’d feel better if I had a trustworthy Green Bone inside the premises, keeping his eyes open and one ear to the ground. Could you make your fine hoji and still serve the clan, Eiten-jen?”

Eiten swallowed thickly and nodded. “The clan is my blood, and the Pillar is its master. Thank you, Hilo-jen. I will always be one of your warriors, in any way you ask of me.”

Hilo grinned and stood up; the others stood with him. The motion woke the baby, who rooted for her mother’s breast and began wailing at a piercing volume that made Hilo wince, then laugh. “Go on; you need to feed your little demon. We can sort out the details later.”

“Gather your father-in-law’s past five years of financial records and send them to the Weather Man’s office along with the details of the patronage request,” Shae said. “Then we can move it along quicker.”

Eiten and his wife reiterated their gratitude. The brown monkey drank the last bit of peach soda in its master’s bottle and scampered close behind his heels as the family departed.

Seeing Eiten doing as well as could reasonably be hoped for, and being able to fulfill his request, improved Hilo’s mood considerably. The next two meetings were straightforward. The minor Black Tail clan had sent a representative to deliver condolences in the form of money and flowers, and to express Black Tail’s unwavering and continued friendship. (“He’s likely heading over to Ayt Mada right now to say the exact same thing,” Shae said after the man left.) Then came a business associate of their grandfather’s, wanting to write a hagiographic biography of the Torch of Kekon, with the Pillar’s permission and the clan’s final approval, of course. Hilo was pleased with their progress and looking at his watch when Mrs. Teije was shown into the room.

Immediately, he had a feeling that he would not enjoy this conversation. Behind him, he felt a subtle shift in Shae’s aura that suggested she felt the same way. “Aunt Teije,” Hilo said, kissing the woman on one dry cheek, “it’s been such a long time.” Not nearly long enough, he thought, glad that the woman wore no jade and couldn’t Perceive any of his true sentiments.

“Auntie,” Shae said, also faking a warm welcome. Mrs. Teije was sixty years old and the wife of their father’s cousin. Kaul Sen had had only one older sister who survived until adulthood; she married a man named Teije Jan and had four children by him. The Teijes were related to the Kauls and outnumbered them; this fact alone should have made them one of the most powerful families on Kekon, but no Teije had ever achieved anything noteworthy or held a position of real leadership in the clan. Only a handful of them had graduated from the Academy as Green Bones; to Hilo’s recollection, two had made it as far as being junior Fists. The rest of the Teijes were an assortment of minor Lantern Men and jadeless civilians—some with an education and respectable jobs, some not, almost all of them having advanced further than they might otherwise have on account of their connection to the name Kaul.

“The gods play favorites,” Hilo’s grandfather had once said at the dinner table. “They took from one side of our family to give to the other. So be kind to your cousins; if the Teijes had more brains or thicker blood, who knows where we’d be?”

Mrs. Teije was a plump woman with short, coarse hair and a tight-lipped expression that suggested she was constantly trying to swallow something unpleasant in her mouth. In a wheezy voice, she said, “Kaul-jen, Kaul-jen, may the gods shine favor on you. You are my only hope,” and sank into one of the chairs, dabbing at her eyes with a crumpled tissue.

“What’s the matter, Auntie?” Hilo asked.

“It’s my good-for-nothing son, Runo,” Mrs. Teije said. “He’s gotten himself into some trouble in the Uwiwa Islands. Only the gods know what he was doing in that sinful place to begin with, but because of some terrible mistake, he was arrested and thrown into prison.”

Hilo suppressed a sigh and composed his face into a reassuring expression. “Aunt Teije, no wonder you’re so upset, but if it’s a mistake as you say, I’m sure it can be resolved, and we can pay to have Runo released. How much is the bail amount?”