by Fonda Lee
“Yun Dorupon is confined at home due to health issues that have unfortunately forced his resignation,” Shae said. That was the story she and Hilo had concocted to prevent rumors of treason within the clan from getting out beyond the top levels of No Peak.
“His resignation?” the minister fairly shouted. “Who’s the acting Weather Man, then? Put me through to him at once.”
“You’re speaking to her,” Shae said. “I’m the Weather Man. My name is Kaul Shaelinsan, and if there’s anything further you wish to say, say it to me.”
A stunned silence emanated from the phone receiver—then a mumbled curse, a click, and the hollow drone of the dial tone.
Shae set the receiver back into its cradle and swiveled the chair around to stare out the darkening windows. She’d had Doru’s locked filing cabinets opened before they were moved out, and on her shiny new desk were tall stacks of folders detailing all of No Peak’s operations. She turned back around, pulled off one of the top folders, and opened it on her lap. The evening was young and she had hours of work ahead of her.
CHAPTER
40
Being the Pillar
Hilo did not like to use Lan’s study; it didn’t suit him. So formal, and with so many books—did Lan really read all of those books? But he couldn’t bring himself to change the room either, so he held his meetings at the patio table in the courtyard.
The Maik brothers looked as tired and unwashed as infantrymen who’d just trekked in from the front line—stubbled faces, clothes bloodied and dirty, weapons stained. Hilo had managed to shower and change, but he suspected he didn’t look much better. He’d spent all night in the Armpit. After winning Poor Man’s Road, he was not about to let any of that district be retaken. The fighting had spilled into Spearpoint and Junko, but at dawn, No Peak still held the whole of its previous territory. That wasn’t the case elsewhere in the city.
Hilo tore apart a bread roll and ate it as he regarded the silent Maiks. At last he said, “Neither of you wants to talk first, so it must be bad.”
Kehn said, “We’ve lost the southern part of the Docks. Three of our Fists and eleven of our Fingers were killed yesterday and last night. We took some Mountain jade too, but not enough. Gont and his men are camped out in the Twice Lucky.”
Hilo said, “Which of our Fists?”
“Asei, Ronu, and Satto.”
The Pillar’s face twisted. The Maiks felt his aura flare like a flame. They looked at the ground as Hilo threw the rest of the roll back onto his plate and wiped a hand over his mouth. Softly, he said, “Let the gods recognize them.”
“Let the gods recognize them,” the Maiks echoed.
“What of Mr. Une?” Hilo asked.
“The owner of the Twice Lucky?” Kehn snorted. “Turned.”
Hilo sighed through his nose. He suspected Gont had given the poor man a choice between switching allegiance and something far worse, but the unwelcome truth was that if the Twice Lucky could be taken and a long-standing No Peak man like Mr. Une turned, none of the clan’s holdings were safe. He scowled as he voiced his gloomy thought to the Maiks: “Even the best Lantern Man is like a squid that’ll change into any color to save itself.”
“We have to take it back,” Tar insisted. “Gont is taunting us by sitting in there. From where he is now, he can push further into the Docks, or attack Junko or the Forge. The men who took Satto’s jade are in there; we can take it back for him.”
“And where would you pull from, to mount an assault on the Twice Lucky?” Hilo demanded. “We’d need the best of our remaining Fists and a small army of Fingers to face Gont head on. I know the Armpit can’t spare any. What about Sogen? I sent you to win that district; is it done?”
“No,” Tar said, chastised.
Wen came out and set a plate of cubed watermelon and a jug of mint water on the table for them. “Thank you, love,” Hilo said. He cupped a hand on the back of her thigh as she poured them glasses of water. Wen was wearing a soft lime-green dress and heeled sandals that accentuated her shapely calves. It was one of the only good things in Hilo’s life these days, to have Wen in the Horn’s house. It was Kehn’s house now, so everything was still proper, but she was only a short walk from the main residence, and most importantly, safe behind estate gates. She smiled down at him, a little wanly, then drew away to let her fiancé and brothers continue to talk.
“We’ll take back the Twice Lucky,” Hilo said, changing his tone to let Tar know he was not truly angry with him. “But not now. Gont will be expecting an immediate counterattack. Even if we drive them out of the Docks, the cost will be too high.” He shook his head. “We’ll strike back at a better time.”
“And when is that?” Kehn picked a mint leaf from his glass and chewed on it.
“You’re the Horn now, Kehn,” Hilo said, eyes narrowing. “You tell me. You figure it out, then you tell me, and I give you permission to act or not. That’s how it was between me and Lan. I never went against him, but I didn’t wait to be told what to do either. I made the calls that were mine to make; everything else I went to him to speak my mind and ask for what I wanted.” He was in a sour mood now.
It was Kehn’s turn to be chastised. “All right, Hilo-jen,” he said. “You’re upset with us; we can see that. We’ll do better.”
“You’re my brothers; I’m making your sister my wife. I wouldn’t be treating you like family if I wasn’t honest with you.” Hilo drained his water in a long swallow and pressed the cool glass to his forehead for a minute before setting it back down. “I’m making some changes. You know Woon has moved into the Weather Man’s office to help Shae. It’s the best place for him, where he can be the most useful. Tar, I’m making you my Pillarman now.”
Tar blinked. Then he blurted, “Have I failed you that badly, Hilo-jen?” He pushed back in his chair as if to stand up. His jade aura roiled with confusion. “I’m not a … secretary! I’m a Horn’s man; I belong here on the greener side of the clan, you know that. You want me to make phone calls and maintain the gardens?”
“You won’t be doing any of that shit.” Hilo pinned the younger Maik to his chair with a glare of renewed impatience. “You’ll have staff to do that sort of thing. I need you to do other work for me. It’ll be important work, and you’ll answer only to me. It’s not something I can have the Horn handling, not when he has his hands full as it is, fighting the war. You’ll pick two of your men to help you—choose first-rank Fingers who you trust to never let out a word in carelessness, the ones who’re most hungry to wet their blades. That should give you an idea that I’m making some changes to the Pillarman’s role.”
Tar sat back, still confused, but mollified into temporary silence.
Hilo turned to Kehn. “Who will you make your new First Fist?”
Kehn scratched his jaw. “Juen, or Vuay.”
“Which one?” Hilo demanded.
After a moment’s hesitation, “Juen.”
Hilo nodded. “Good.” He looked about to say more, but all three men paused at the Perception of Shae’s jade aura, crackling with frustration, as it bore down toward them from inside the main house. Hilo said, “I believe the Weather Man would like to talk to me.” His mouth curved in a faintly sardonic smile.
“The joys of being the Pillar,” Tar said, as he and Kehn stood up.
Hilo’s smile vanished at once. “I never wanted to be Pillar. There are people who’re going to pay for the fact that I’m in Lan’s place. Don’t ever forget that.”
The Maik brothers glanced at each other, then obviously deciding they’d spent enough time on their captain’s bad side today, they saluted him and withdrew.
Hilo felt his pockets for a pack of cigarettes, and finding them empty, picked at the bowl of watermelon until Shae’s shadow fell over him and she stood next to his chair, glaring down at him. “You have to meet with the Royal Council,” she said.
“Sit down, Shae,” he said. “You make me nervous, standing there with your arms crossed lik
e I’m a bad puppy.” Hilo refilled his empty glass with water and pushed it across the table toward one of the chairs, gesturing for her to sit.
Shae snorted. “If only you were as easy to fix as a bad puppy.” But she sat down, crossed her legs, and took the glass. Hilo couldn’t help smiling as he looked at her. Besides Wen living next door in the Horn’s house, the only other thing he was thankful for was Shae’s return. His sister had been like a shadow of herself, embarrassing for Hilo to even look upon; she’d made him feel guilty and angry every time he saw her, as if she were deliberately trying to shame him and the family with her every decision. The confrontation in her apartment building over Caun had irked him for days. Now the icy burn of her aura, its familiar strength and ferocity directed at him, was a bittersweet comfort to Hilo. If only, if only, it had come sooner.
“Did you hear me?” Shae asked.
“I have a favor to ask you, first,” Hilo said. “I’d like you to find a job for Wen. Something in the clan, in a safe part of the city, where she can feel useful. Her job now, it’s not good enough for her. She can type and do secretary things, but she can do more than that. It would make her a lot happier.”
“This is what you want me to spend my time doing?” Shae asked.
“It won’t take much time. Have Woon ask around; there are always Lantern Men needing good help. It’s not urgent, but I know it’s hard on her now, with me and her brothers gone all the time, and it not being safe to go out much.” He glanced at the Horn’s house, caught a brief glimpse of Wen’s figure in the kitchen window.
“Fine,” Shae said. “I’ll ask around. Can we talk about the council?”
Hilo felt suddenly tired. “What do I need to meet with the council for?”
The Weather Man dropped her chin in incredulity. “The Royal Council is the governing body of the country. It’s shitting itself over all the violence and the disruption to business, foreign affairs, jade income, everything. Councilmen are calling the Weather Man’s office nonstop. Chancellor Son is beside himself that you haven’t gone to consult with him once yet. They expect to hear from the Pillar. Lan used to meet with them regularly; they haven’t been able to reach you at all.”
“I’ve been busy,” he said drily.
“Leading your troops,” she said. “You’re still acting like the Horn. You don’t belong on the front lines anymore. That’s Maik Kehn’s job now.”
“He needs my help.”
“Then maybe you shouldn’t have made him Horn.”
Hilo himself had been harsh on Kehn earlier, but he hated to hear anyone he cared about criticized in their absence. He shot a warning glower at his sister. “Kehn is one of my best Green Bones; he’d die a hundred times over for this clan.”
Shae sat unmoved. “He’s an unimaginative soldier, you know that.”
“I was Horn until last week, and it’s my place to manage the Horn now, not yours.” Coldly, “I’m really not in the mood to be lectured by my little sister. I didn’t appoint you as Weather Man so you could question all my decisions.”
Shae sneered a little. “You want my resignation?”
Hilo sneered back. “Damnit, Shae, why do you have to bait me all the time?” He put a foot on the edge of the empty chair next to him and kicked it over. Its metal frame clattered loudly on the patio tile. Hilo slumped in his seat. She’d always been like this, always taken some cruel satisfaction in goading him, knowing that she could count on their grandfather to take her side. The angrier and more violent he became, the more she seemed to gain in favor—always the more clever and disciplined grandchild. Really, the way the two of them had fought as children, it was a good thing Lan had been there or they might have actually killed each other.
Neither of them spoke for a minute. Their jade auras grappled warily, prickling against each other like static charges. Finally, Hilo said, “We can’t be going against each other, Shae, not anymore. I asked for your oath and you gave it, and that means you don’t show me disrespect, and you don’t do things like that.” He stabbed a finger in the direction of the Weather Man’s house. “Pardoning Doru without even asking me.” He spat a watermelon seed in disgust. “Doru! He was supposed to be feeding worms months ago, but Lan was too soft when it came to Grandda’s feelings. You’re the same way now, letting that snake live just to keep the old man company.”
“You agreed to give it a chance,” Shae retorted. “I hate Doru even more than you do, but Grandda left his room for the first time in days this morning. I saw them from the window, Hilo. I was working all night, same as you. I saw Doru pushing Grandda’s wheelchair into the courtyard to have their tea and chess at this very table, like they always do. He was smiling. Even without all his jade, he was smiling. He still has life in him. This is worth it, for Grandda’s sake.”
“Worth having a traitor living with us? Worth sparing two of my Fingers to guard him day and night? Doru’s got nothing to lose. He’s dangerous to us.”
“He’s an old man whom you’ve stripped of jade,” Shae replied. “He went entirely against what Lan wanted, and that makes him a traitor and a bad Weather Man, but I don’t believe he ever meant us personal harm.” She did not flinch from Hilo’s unconvinced glare. “You’re angry at me, but you know Lan would’ve agreed.”
Hilo was hardly overjoyed by this truth. It would be easier for all concerned if Grandda was too far gone for Doru to make a difference. “The point is,” he ground out, “you did it without coming to me. You did what you felt like, without doing it properly, just like—” He caught himself, but Shae’s face had already stiffened.
“Like what?” she asked coolly. “Like moving to Espenia? Like dating Jerald? Like taking off my jade without permission?” There was, to Hilo’s great surprise, a sliver of hurt in her voice. “That’s what you were going to say, isn’t it?”
This whole conversation was leaving a bad taste in Hilo’s mouth. Three of his Fists were dead—good men, worthy Green Bones, all of them. He should be bringing funerary envelopes to their families. He should be out in the city where he was needed, where the war was being fought and decided, not sitting here, bickering with his sister. “I told you,” he said quietly, mustering all his remaining patience, “I’ve forgotten the past. When you push me like you do, sometimes I forget that I’ve forgotten it. I won’t bring it up again. It’s over. What matters now is that it’s the two of us. You’re my Weather Man, and I’m grateful. So say what you came to tell me.”
Shae studied him silently for a minute, as if trying to decide whether to accept his words at face value. So cynical, his sister. Finally, she seemed to give in; her jade aura drew in a pace and settled into a grudging hum. “The council is calling for a negotiated truce between the clans.”
Hilo’s lips curled over his teeth. “Truce? There won’t be any truce. Who agrees to a truce when his brother lies in the ground? Besides, what say does the Royal Council of jadeless puppets have over clan affairs? This is a matter between Green Bones, not politicians.”
“The Royal Council is concerned with national issues. A war between the two largest clans counts as a national issue, hence the Royal Council is concerned.”
Hilo frowned. “The chancellor is a No Peak man. Shouldn’t the council be in our pocket? Don’t we have enough Lantern Men who sit on it?”
“Yes, and they’re not happy about being ignored. They’re not Fists and Fingers who’ll do as you tell them to, Hilo. They’re loyal to the clan because of money and influence, not because of jade and brotherhood. If you don’t address their concerns, their opinions will spread to the other Lantern Men in the clan. The Mountain has councilmen in their ranks as well, who will report to Ayt that we’re losing our sway. If it gets bad enough, our businesses will turn en masse, without Gont even having to shed another drop of blood. On top of that, there are those on the council who aren’t clan affiliated, who will gain political power if the war drags on and public opinion starts turning against all Green Bones.”
Hilo tilted his head back and stared gloomily into the branches of the cherry tree. Shae leaned forward and tapped hard on the back of his hand to force his attention back to her. “And here’s the most important thing to consider. The council is the political body that deals with the Espenians, and all other foreign states and companies. If you ignore the council, if you make it appear toothless and incapable of maintaining order, what’s to stop the foreigners from deciding that they no longer have to deal openly with the government either? What’s to prevent them from going directly to the one clan that’s been accumulating jade and producing shine behind the backs of the others? That’s not us, by the way.”
“You’ve made your point,” Hilo grumbled. “I’ll meet with Chancellor Son and the Royal Council. What am I supposed to say to them?”
“That depends,” Shae said. “What will it take for us to win the war?”
Hilo drew in a pensive breath and let it out again. He wouldn’t consider anything a true victory unless Ayt and Gont were feeding worms and their clan in ruins, but he had to concede that a more attainable goal in the near term would be to win all the battleground districts and force enough crippling business concessions on the Mountain that it could no longer hope to conquer No Peak. “If our Lantern Men stay with us, and we hold our remaining territories until the end of the year, we’ll be in a better position,” he mused. “The class coming out of the Academy is bigger and stronger than what the Mountain will get out of Wie Lon this year. We’ll have enough Fingers to fill in our gaps by spring.” He sucked the inside of his cheek, then added in a less optimistic tone, “Things could go badly for us, though, between now and then. The Mountain knows our situation. They’ll spill a lot of blood trying to end this quickly.”
