Shae felt his words turn her hands and feet cold. “What should I do?”
“To hold on to power, one must deny it to others. Ayt has no heir. There are prominent families in the Mountain that hope to succeed her, who are following behind like a pack of wolves waiting for a stumble. The Iwe family is in the loyal inner circle, and the Vens are wealthy, but the Koben family has the strongest claim and the most to gain. Ayt is a strong Pillar, but she is still human, and a woman. Find a way to ally with her successor. It will be up to you, Shae-se, to end the war between the clans, to find a way back to real peace.” Doru coughed again; it sounded like pneumonia. “Beyond that, I have only the advice of an old Weather Man to a young one: Listen to everyone, but read the clouds for yourself.”
Shae’s voice felt abruptly tight in her throat. “Do you have anything else to say, Doru-jen?” The time had come; she put her hand on the hilt of her moon blade but did not draw it yet.
Doru reached around his neck and lifted off a chain with four jade stones. He held the gems in his wrinkled, long-fingered hands for a moment, his eyes glistening. “This jade was your grandfather’s,” he said. “It belongs in the Kaul family.” He set it down next to him on the small wooden side table. His familiar jade aura dissipated like smoke coming off a black log; only his slow heartbeat and wheezy breath remained in Shae’s Perception.
Shae felt heavy in her limbs. This encounter was not going as she’d envisioned. She’d hated Doru for years. Coming here, she’d imagined acting swiftly and with cold righteousness to correct the mistake she’d made by sparing him before. She had not expected to find him sick and suffering, most of the way to his grave already. It was time to act, but still she remained standing where she was, unable to move. Doru was a devious old pervert and he had committed treachery at the highest level of the clan, but as he folded his hands in his lap and gazed up at her with calm expectancy, she remembered that he had been an uncle to her, that he was Kaul Sen’s best and dearest friend.
An ache built in her chest, one that seemed to spread to her limbs and turn them to lead. She couldn’t kill Doru. Her grandfather—let the gods recognize him—would never forgive her.
The former Weather Man let out a strangely satisfied sigh. “Ah, Shae-se, I’m afraid you’ve something to learn from your enemy Ayt Madashi. To lead a Green Bone clan, there are times you need to be as cold as steel.” Doru shifted in his chair and opened the drawer of the side table. “Still, it makes me glad to think that, even after all the ways I’ve lost your respect, you have some softness in your heart for your old uncle after all. You were your grandfather’s favorite, and mine as well; I’ve never wanted to cause you any trouble or heartache.” Shae realized what he was about to do an instant before he took out the pistol, put the barrel in his mouth, and pulled the trigger.
The door of the small house slammed open and Woon burst in, moon blade drawn, jade aura blazing with alarm. He made some exclamation that Shae did not hear; the reverberation of the gunshot had turned her world silent. Doru’s body had been flung back against the seat and it slumped there now, long limbs slack, wizened head lolled sideways on the thin neck. Bloody bits of his skull and brains were sprayed across the back of the armchair. Shae’s heart was stampeding so hard she could feel the beat in her throat. Doru had acted so quickly and unhesitatingly, she hadn’t even Perceived it coming. To her surprise and shame, she felt tears prick the backs of her eyes.
Hami came in and stared at the body but said nothing. It was obvious what had happened. Shae had failed, but Doru had accepted the clan’s justice nevertheless.
“Collect the jade on the table; it belongs to the clan,” she said. She couldn’t bring herself to approach the body and claim it undeservedly for herself. Shae turned away and walked back out the door. She heard Woon following after her, but Hami lingered behind. She had damaged his respect for her; she understood that. The huddle of villagers gathered outside shifted back at her appearance, making room as she walked into their midst. “Who’s the headman of this town?” she asked.
A bearded, middle-aged man in overalls and a flat cap came forward. Warily, he touched his clasped hands to his head and bent forward in salute.
“Thank you for showing an old Green Bone kindness and hospitality in his final days,” Shae said, clearly enough for those gathered to hear. “If his presence was any hardship on you, I offer my clan’s gratitude and apologies.”
The headman glanced around at his fellow townspeople before turning back to Shae. It was dark now, and she could not clearly read his expression in the light of the kerosene lamps that hung from wooden poles in front of the scattering of houses. “We’ve always fed and sheltered any Green Bone who needs our help,” the headman said. He didn’t ask about what had happened in the cabin. It was a custom engrained by past decades of war and occupation: The country folk of Kekon aided and harbored Green Bones without speaking of it to others and without asking questions—the better to protect themselves from torture by Shotarian soldiers. The people of Opia held fast to tradition.
Shae placed an envelope of cash into the headman’s hand. It was sure to be more money than the town had seen in years. “Bury him in the mountains, near the old rebel camp south of here,” Shae told the villagers. “Mark his grave with the words, Here lies a Green Bone warrior of Kekon.”
CHAPTER 15
Rats in the Celestial Radiance
Once a week, Wen spent the afternoon in the Celestial Radiance Bath & Tea House, a women-only facility one block west of Twentieth Street in the Sogen district. This part of the city used to be Mountain territory; during the clan war, No Peak conquered the area, but nearly three months ago, Hilo had ceded it back to the Mountain as part of the truce negotiation between the clans. None of this seemed to affect those who worked at or frequented the Celestial Radiance. The owners had two lanterns—one white, one pale green—and they swapped out which one hung in the front window depending on the current jurisdiction. They paid token tribute as required, and the bathhouse had not incurred any damage during the periods of street violence. The Celestial Radiance was a social spot for wives, and a place sought out by tourists to relax after sightseeing in the nearby Monument District. It was not high value, and Green Bones would not suffer the disgrace of attacking a women’s bathhouse any more than they would be seen fighting over a daycare or a funeral home.
So even though Wen was technically three hundred meters inside enemy territory, she was not concerned. The bodyguard who’d driven her here held open the car door, and Wen stepped out of the green Lumezza 6C convertible that her husband had bought for her as a wedding gift. A beautiful car, if not very practical. She was sweating by the time she crossed the short walkway and tiled steps to the entryway; being seven months pregnant during summer in Janloon was an unpleasant ordeal. Once inside, she checked in at the front desk and was shown to a changing stall, where she undressed, stowed her belongings, and entered the adjoining private room where she settled herself onto the cushioned table for a full-body scrub and prenatal massage. Five years ago, working for secretary’s wages at a small law firm and living in a cramped apartment in Paw-Paw, she would never have indulged in such luxuries. There were perks to being the wife of the Pillar. It was not a position to which she’d ever aspired; she’d expected to remain the wife of the Horn—a place with status, but more anonymity, and requiring considerable emotional fortitude and self-sufficiency, as the Horn’s job was dangerous and unpredictable and called him away at all hours. Lina possessed such admirable qualities, which was why Wen had introduced her to Kehn.