Jade War

Maro put the photograph back down. “The rest of my family doesn’t think so. My grandmother’s passed away now—let the gods recognize her—but my grandfather won’t talk about it, and neither will my uncles or cousins. They think it was wrong for me to stir up something that should’ve been left alone.” Maro sighed. He picked out his clothes from the closet and began to dress, slowly. “They have reasons other than prejudice. I’m the only one in my family who wears jade. I have a good career at the university and connections to the Royal Council. The story of my real parentage would only drag our family down. So I keep it a secret, just like my mother did.”

Maro sat back down on the bed next to her. “You see? Every family has some darkness that it’s afraid to share, even the ones that aren’t famous and powerful.” At her thoughtful silence, Maro kissed the curve of her jaw, then looked at the clock on the dresser. “It’s getting late; I should get to work.”

“Me too.” Shae startled at the time. She got up and went to the closet, taking out the set of clothes she kept at Maro’s apartment. She dressed while Maro went into the bathroom to shave and was done when he got out. “I didn’t answer your question,” she said, picking up her shoes. “I do want to have you over at my new house, now that it’s finally finished. My sister-in-law is still working on decorating the inside, but I’m mostly moved in by now. Would you like to come over and have dinner sometime?”

Maro patted down his tousled hair; Shae found his rumpled professor appearance in the mornings endearingly sexy. “Even now that you know I’m a half-Shotarian bastard?” Maro said it lightly, but there was a note of worry in his voice. A suggestion that perhaps he wasn’t sure he should’ve told her so much, made himself so vulnerable.

Shae went to the door. “My cousin’s mixed blood; it doesn’t matter.” Years ago, she’d made a mistake by keeping the relationship with Jerald a secret, fearing her grandfather’s scathing disapproval. But Grandda was gone now, and she was not afraid of Hilo’s opinion, whatever it might be.

* * *

Woon was waiting in Shae’s office when she arrived, thirty minutes later than usual. He stood up as she came in, and Shae felt suddenly awkward, knowing that he suspected the reason she was late this morning and wondering if he could smell Maro all over her. He seemed unusually anxious, not his usual self. Swallowing uncomfortably, he handed her a folded piece of paper. Shae began to read it, then looked up at the Weather Man’s Shadow in bewilderment. “What is this?”

“My resignation, Kaul-jen,” Woon said.

“Your resignation?” Shae stared at him. “Why?”

The man would not meet her eyes. “You can find someone better for the position.”

Shae dropped the letter and her purse on her desk. “What’s this really about, Papi-jen?”

Woon’s normally even aura was churning with agitation. “I think you know by now,” he said hoarsely. “Don’t make me say it, Shae-jen. I value our friendship too much.”

Shae shook her head, fighting down a swell of panic. Her position was tenuous enough as it was. She’d been concerned about losing Hami’s support but had not imagined that she might lose Woon. He had been unfailing in his duties, always dependable, at her side through every difficult situation since she’d come into this office. Woon was her right hand, as he had been for her brother Lan. She could not lose him, not if she wished to remain Weather Man of No Peak. “I don’t accept this resignation, Woon-jen.”

Woon looked up sharply. Shae could count on one hand the number of times she’d seen him appear angry. “I’ve served you as best I could,” he said, his voice not quite steady. “You’re being unfair, to keep me in a role I’m asking to leave.”

“I need you,” Shae said. “There’s no one else who could take your place as Shadow, who I’d trust as much. Under other circumstances, you would’ve been Lan’s Weather Man.”

“I failed Lan-jen,” Woon said, his face stricken. “I’m afraid I’m failing him again now. And that I’ll fail you.”

“The only way you’ll fail me is if you leave.” Shae stood in front of the man. “Please, Papi-jen. You know I could go to the Pillar and ask that he order you to stay. I don’t want to do that. I won’t do that. But I need you to keep helping me as you have.”

Woon’s shoulders sagged. “It’s too painful for me, Shae-jen,” he confessed. “You’re Lan-jen’s sister, and the Weather Man, so I would never cross either of those lines; but we spend so much time together, I can’t help how I feel.”