The challenger, Sammy, crouched in a posture of exaggerated readiness. Tod, smirking a little, faced the audience and strode around a little with his arms raised to urge them to make more noise, which they did with so much enthusiasm that Anden was reminded of an Espenian sporting event and could not help but think the whole display rather crass and un-Kekonese.
Tod whirled and threw a spear of Deflection at Sammy, who leapt Lightly out of the way with a taunting shout. The Deflection buffeted some of the people nearby, who clutched their drinks and hung on to their tables and chairs. A plate of food went flying. Tod unleashed two more Deflections in quick succession that Sammy was hard-pressed to dodge—he bounded straight over Tod’s head and landed behind him.
Cory whooped and shouted, “Get him, Tod!” Their friend spun and feinted high, then sent out a low, wide Deflection that at last caught the other young man at the knees in midleap and sent him sprawling to the ground. Sammy rolled over and held up his hands, grinning and mock cowering while Tod made a show of pretending to jump on him and finish him off. The people in the hall cheered.
The two Green Bones clapped each other on the shoulders good-naturedly before climbing back over the rope and returning to their tables amid praise. “That was toppers,” Derek said when Tod sat back down, and Cory added, “Mass toppers, crumb.”
Anden nodded along in agreement, though in truth, he hadn’t found the contest to be particularly impressive. The style with which Tod and Sammy employed their jade abilities was different and some of it seemed inefficient. Tod’s Deflection had precision but little power; Sammy’s Lightness was nimble enough, but lacked the speed it might have with more Strength. All in all, it had been at the level of what one might see from year-fives at the Academy.
These were ungenerous thoughts, Anden chided himself. The Green Bones here did not receive a full-time education in the jade disciplines. What little jade they carried, they had to hide at all times. They had to train in secret, in the stuffy basement of a community center instead of the sprawling campus of a school like the Academy. Any pride or status they could claim on account of being green could only be garnered here, within the Kekonese community, on nights like this.
All evening, Anden had found the grudge hall strange and a little overwhelming, and now he understood why: The place was like a distillate of Kekonese culture—the food and hoji, the cockfighting and gambling, the social life, the tradition of clean-bladed dueling, and the celebration of jade abilities—all crammed together under one roof in one evening. It gave Anden the oddest feeling. It was both acutely Kekonese and not Kekonese at all.
More food and drink was had, more conversation. Another cockfight was played out. At the urging of friends, other Green Bones got up to challenge each other to contests of Strength and Steel. After a time, Tod, who had to work the next morning (he was an assistant manager at an electronics store) stood up to go, and Anden, already worried that the Hians might be concerned about him being out so late, put his drink down and followed suit. Cory said to them, “It’ll be freezing cold and black out there by now. Let me see if my da is heading out anytime soon. Maybe he can give us all a ride.”
Anden did not want to bother Dauk Losun, but Cory had no compunction about going over to ask his father, who said, “Sure, no problem; no need for me to stay any longer.”
Before they could take their leave, however, Mrs. Joek, the noodle lady, rushed down the stairs into the grudge hall and hurried to the Pillar’s table. “Dauk-jens,” she exclaimed, “there are police officers here. Two of them.”
In the crowded basement, her words were heard immediately. Conversations died on the spot; heads turned anxiously toward the Pillar’s table. To Anden’s surprise, Dauk Sana got up from her place at the table immediately and went upstairs. Her husband did not follow; he raised his voice and said calmly but loudly enough to be heard, “Everyone, stay where you are and keep enjoying yourselves. Don’t worry.” To his son, “You and your friends, go back and sit down.”
Anden sat back down. The room was thick was unease and shuffling murmurs. Anden saw Rohn Toro rise from his seat and move to stand in the corner of the room near the door. He removed the black gloves from the breast pocket of his shirt and pulled them on, then leaned against the wall, arms crossed.
Dauk Sana returned a few minutes later, speaking loudly in accented Espenian as she descended. “Of course, yes, food license, liquor license—I can show you, officers.” She reached the bottom of the steps. Two Port Massy police officers followed her, boots clomping loudly, the brims of their black caps and the shoulders of their uniforms beaded with ice. “Not a restaurant or bar,” Sana went on. She had been calm a minute ago, but now she acted extremely nervous, wringing her hands. “This is just a party. A neighborhood party.”
The officers squinted around the basement. “A party, eh?” said the older one of them. “What’s the occasion? What’re you kecks up to down here? Fighting? Jade trading?”
Sana looked horrified and insulted. “No, of course not. Maybe you’ve been watching too many movies? Just because we’re Kekonese you think we all wear jade like gangsters?” She gestured around at the tables of people—men and women, young and old. “We can’t get together to eat and drink and have a good time in our own community center on a stormy night like this, without being suspected?”
The younger of the two officers looked a little abashed at this, but the older one strode to the center of the room and snorted at the sight of bloodstains and feathers on the ground. He lifted the blanket that had been thrown over one of the benches and peered down at the gamecocks in their cages. Straightening up again with a smug look, he said, “Cockfighting’s a criminal offense, ma’am. The fine is two thousand thalirs, and we could shut this whole building down.”
Sana sucked in a breath. “Please, officers,” she said, “we will pay the fine. We don’t have much money, but we understand there are consequences to breaking the law. We’ll all pay.” As if on cue, one of the men at the nearest table took off his felt hat and began passing it around the room. All those present pulled out their wallets and deposited money into the spontaneous collection fund. Sana appeared on the verge of tears; she twisted the end of her scarf in her hands and said to the officers, “We have to hold some cockfights in here once in a while, to satisfy the older people, especially. You see, it’s not illegal in our home country. They bring their gamecocks and I can’t say no all the time. Please don’t revoke our licenses for this small thing.” She gave them a pleading look. “The community center is the heart of our neighborhood, it serves everyone. There’s a shrine and library and daycare upstairs. There are people—some very old or very young—who come here for a meal and company when they have nowhere else to go. And yes, sometimes parties go on in the basement, but the worst that happens is some drinking and cockfighting.”