Shae said, “Did you seek me out here in the temple just to gloat, Ayt-jen?”
For the first time in their conversation, Ayt showed irritation. “I want to make it clear that even after all these years, No Peak remains in the weaker position. You’ve expanded your own businesses and cultivated your own allies, but the Mountain once again possesses more people and greater resources. Both of our clans have interests spread well beyond our borders; we have international networks and stakeholders. We’re past the point we were at five years ago, when one of us might have won the war in the streets and conquered the other through superior exercise of violence.”
Shae said nothing, knowing that what Ayt said was true. The Pillar said, “Surely you’ve seen the news that an armistice has been declared in Oortoko. The western half will be governed by Shotar and an independent eastern state will fall under the ‘protection’ of Ygutan. Nearly four years of conflict and gods know how much money and lives spent by both sides, and the result is exactly what anyone could’ve foreseen when two powers of equal determination clash.” Ayt shifted on her cushion to face Shae more directly. Shae saw up close, for the first time, the woman’s left ear, the top third of it cleanly sliced away. A permanent disfigurement that was ambiguously a mark of atonement or a badge of combat. Either way, Ayt wore it without shame, making no effort to hide it.
“We sat in front of the cameras in the General Star Hotel knowing the peace we were declaring between our clans was a temporary measure based on necessity,” Ayt said. “Now the foreign proxy war is over but the necessity is no less. The military tension between Espenia and Ygutan continues unabated. The Oortokon War might’ve been an unfortunate thing for the world, but it has benefited the Kekonese economy and our importance in the world. The foreigners still want our jade—but now also our goods, our money, and our influence.
“So let this moment be one of true agreement between us, Kaul Shae-jen. Our own private armistice. We both tried to win the war covertly by manipulating agents. They failed, which only goes to show that outsiders are not reliable when it comes to Green Bone matters. I’ve whispered Kaul Hilo’s name enough for it to have become a predictable habit, and I tire of the game. In Oortoko, the global powers came to the realization that they had to check their feud or risk dragging the entire world into another Many Nations War. Your brother may not be able to think in such broad terms, but you can. Prevail upon his better judgment, as limited as that might be. There are small children in your family now, and I imagine you don’t want them to lose any more fathers or uncles.” Ayt’s voice took a softly menacing turn. “If you move against me again, or simply fail to keep Kaul Hilo’s vengeful nature in check, then remember that Ven Sando was the patriarch of an old and powerful Green Bone line, one that should’ve thrived for generations to come, but because of his treachery, he lost everything: his business accomplishments, the lives of his loved ones, the very existence and legacy of his family name and bloodline. It could happen to anyone.”
Yes, Shae thought. Even you. Ayt had not come by her victory unscathed. She’d been beleaguered by fractiousness within her clan—fractiousness abetted by No Peak at every turn. She’d sold the Mountain’s largest company to foreign interests, made allies of the criminal barukan, broken aisho by murdering Chancellor Son, and stained her hands with the blood of her own Green Bones yet again. She’d been forced to recognize the claim of an unproven twelve-year-old boy and elevate the undistinguished Koben family into a position of power she had never intended to share. Shae suspected that for all of Ayt’s smugness over her renewed position of strength over No Peak, she had not wanted to do any of these things.
Shae felt, in that moment, a curious empathy for her mortal enemy. What Ayt had said to her was correct: No one was untouchable. She felt the other woman’s aura pressing against her like an expanding solid surface. She remembered the critical moment in their duel when their energies had grappled, neither able to overcome the other, and the sense of elation she’d felt when she’d succeeded, for an instant, to bring her rival to a standstill. She’d done so again. Ayt would not be threatening her if she did not on some level, even with all her considerable victories, fear the fact that the Kaul family was still alive. Damaged, yes—but alive, and growing, with its own allies, resources, and implacable vengefulness. As surely as the division between East and West Oortoko would fester like an infected scar, the history of violence between No Peak and the Mountain meant that in the end, one of them was bound to prevail, perhaps by the finality of the blade, perhaps by other means.
Shae bent at the waist and touched her forehead to the ground in front of the cushion. “Yatto, Father of All,” she said, “I beg you recognize all the Green Bones who came before us, especially my grandfather Kaul Seningtun and his comrade Ayt Yugontin, and all the jade warriors who’ve fought for Kekon while striving to be true to aisho and the Divine Virtues.”
Shae straightened and said to her enemy, “Everything you say is true. We have more at stake now, and it’s in everyone’s best interests for our clans to keep the peace. But we will never be at peace. You’ll pursue your ruthless agenda—and my clan will pursue ours. Make no mistake: We’re still at war, in a different way.” She stood up, feeling the stiffness in her back unclench. “I have to pick up my nephews from swim class. If you’ll excuse me, Ayt-jen, my family needs me.”
CHAPTER 63
Home at Last
When Anden landed in Janloon International Airport, a car and driver were waiting for him. Crossing the Way Away Bridge into morning traffic, Anden stared at the skyline of the city he’d left three and a half years ago. The view was deeply familiar yet different; there were buildings that had been there as long as he could remember and new ones that he did not recognize. Construction cranes balanced like orange storks along the waterfront, stretching their arms toward Summer Harbor. Anden rolled down the window and breathed in the heat and smell of Janloon, letting the urban music of car horns and shouted Kekonese wash over him. The car carried him past the dense tenements of Coinwash and Fishtown, the condo buildings and upscale shops of North Sotto, the urban parks and trendy eateries between Green Plain and Yoyoyi, the manicured estate fronts of Palace Hill. He saw trees broken from recent typhoon damage, newspaper stands proclaiming the end of the Oortokon War, red Autumn Festival lamps and grass streamers adorning eaves and street posts. Green and white paper lanterns hung from storefront windows in their respective districts.
A nameless and profound ache gathered in Anden’s chest. Janloon was warm and dangerous, it throbbed with life and hot-blooded movement, it knew that it was special, that there was no other place like it in the world. Other places deceived; in other places, people hid their jade, they exchanged money under the table, and they killed in the dark. Janloon wore its savagery on its sleeve; it was a proud Fist among nations, it did not hide what it was. Janloon was honest.