“We could build you a pool or a sauna here at home,” Hilo suggested. “It would save you all these trips.”
“It would take up too much space,” Wen told him. “And I like getting out of the house.” Wen’s small children occupied most of her time and attention, but she still managed a handful of informers who occasionally carried information through the Celestial Radiance to No Peak’s ears.
“Next Fifthday, then,” Shae said. “I’ll call you when I get home from work.”
After Wen departed, Hilo helped to stack the dishes in the kitchen sink, then stepped out the door into the courtyard, lighting a cigarette. When Shae followed and stood next to him, he said, “That was a nice dinner, Shae.” She was about to thank her brother when he added, “He’s a little odd, but I like him well enough. At least he’s Kekonese.”
Shae’s reply took a sharp turn into indignation. “What did I say to you beforehand? I didn’t invite Maro over to get your approval.”
Hilo turned to her with a frown. “Don’t yell at me, Shae. You invited me to come over to meet your boyfriend, and I was happy to do that. You wanted me to take it easy on him, to not treat it like a big deal, so that’s what I did. I already said it was a nice dinner; Wen and I had a nice time. You introduce me to someone and then expect me not to say a single word?”
Even though Hilo was unaware of Maro’s true parentage, Shae was incensed on her boyfriend’s behalf. “‘At least he’s Kekonese?’ What does that mean?”
“Exactly what I said, is all,” Hilo snapped. He ground out his cigarette with more force than necessary. “Maybe that wasn’t the right way to put it,” he admitted grudgingly. “All I’m saying is that I’m glad we won’t have another issue like we did in the past. Maro’s too idealistic, but he seems like a man with a good heart. He’s not anywhere near as green as you are, but there aren’t that many men who are, so that’s no surprise. As long as he makes you happy, that’s what’s important. Do you love him?”
Shae was thrown by the sudden question. The contrast between Hilo’s bluntness and apparent reasonableness made her unsure. “I think so,” she answered, almost without thinking.
Hilo said, “If you’re not sure you’re in love, then you’re not.”
Of course that would be something Hilo would say. Shae knew for certain that she loved the time she spent in Maro’s company, their long conversations, the warmth of him next to her in bed, the way he was everything that No Peak so often was not: peaceable, thoughtful, open-minded. When she was with him, she felt valued and attractive. She could imagine a future unfolding before them. But she had been cautious ever since Jerald.
“I think we’re getting there,” Shae said. “I wish we could spend more time together. The clan doesn’t leave room for much else.”
Her brother’s posture slackened. “I know,” he said, and rubbed a tired hand over his eyes. Looking at him, Shae lost some of her irritation and could not help but feel a pang of sympathy. Hilo was the most hands-on Pillar anyone had ever known. He still left most of the business and political matters to her, but she’d seen him sitting at the kitchen table in the evenings, forcing his way through industry reports and highlighting the parts he needed to ask her about. He dutifully attended the meetings she arranged with corporate executives and councilmen, compensating for lack of business experience and knowledge with the undeniable force of his personal presence. Although he’d gradually given Kehn a great deal more autonomy, he still went out into the streets and talked with his Fists and Fingers, met with Lantern Men, and reviewed every aspect of No Peak’s military activities, which had shifted and grown to include patrols in motorized boats and stakeouts in the mountainous wilderness.
Ayt Mada could command respect as a leader with her public poise and canny rhetoric. Hilo could not do that, but he managed the vast No Peak clan in the same way he’d built his following as Horn: through thousands of conversations and personal interactions with his people, painstakingly accomplished one at a time. It was an effective but grueling way to be the Pillar. And now he also had two small children to take up all the rest of his energy.
“I’ve no problem with Maro,” Hilo said, “but I don’t want any secrets or surprises. If it gets serious, if you want to marry him and bring him into the family, you have to tell me. You have to ask me properly.”
“Because you’re my older brother?” Shae said, smirking a little.
“Yes,” he said, with a touch of anger and a glare that said she was being difficult. “I’m the Pillar,” Hilo said. “You don’t do something that affects the whole clan without the Pillar’s say so. I went to Lan to ask for his permission before I married Wen.”
“And what if he’d said no?”
“He didn’t. Why would he do that?” Hilo’s aura was crackling with irritation now. “Just because you’re my sister and the Weather Man, you think the rules don’t apply to you? Kehn came to me properly. So did Woon. Of course I said yes to both of them.”
Shae blinked. “Woon… asked you if he could…?”
Hilo blinked back at her. “You didn’t know?” He gave her an odd, almost pitying look. “Shortly after New Year’s. He came to see me and brought his girlfriend. They hadn’t been together long, maybe four or five months. But the families know each other, and they seem happy together. As happy as Woon ever seems, that is. It’s hard to tell with him.”
New Year’s had been eight weeks ago. Shae had been talking to Woon in her office that afternoon. “Why didn’t he tell me?” she asked, more to herself than to Hilo.
“He was probably planning to and forgot,” Hilo said, though Shae could tell he didn’t believe that was the reason. Woon did not forget anything.
“We’re Kauls; all our decisions are clan decisions, even the ones that seem private,” Hilo said. “You think I didn’t know that people would talk about the Maiks, about Wen being a stone-eye? Of course I knew. I gave Kehn and Tar every chance I could to earn green and prove their worth to the clan. I got Lan’s blessing to marry Wen. You’ve got to do the same with Maro, because he’s not going to be a force in No Peak. He’s a nice person, but the clan’s not for him. I’m sure he’ll go far in his own world, and he’ll have a good life if he’s with you, but he won’t be at the table after dinner when we talk clan business. Ever. He has to know that going in, I’ll have to have that talk with him if and when you come to me. I think he already knows it about himself, so I don’t think it will be a problem. But we’re getting ahead of ourselves; tonight was just a dinner, like you said, so let’s end the subject for now.”
“Let’s do that.” Shae heard her words come out sour and a little numb. She wanted, more out of instinctual habit than anything else, to be angry at Hilo, but nothing he’d said was untrue.
Hilo yawned. “I should go. Ru’s going to wake me up before dawn.” He gazed out across the garden. “How’s Andy?”
The question came so completely out of the blue that Shae had no response at first. Their cousin had been in Espenia for more than a year, and Hilo had not once asked about him. Whenever Shae mentioned she’d spoken to Anden on the phone, or gotten a letter from him, Hilo listened but never replied. His question now was delivered as simply and unexpectedly as a coma patient opening his eyes and asking what time it was.
“He’s doing well, I think,” Shae said. She tried to recall the most recent long-distance conversation she’d had with Anden, perhaps a month ago. “He says he’s getting good grades and the family he’s staying with treats him well. He’s made friends and is even playing relayball. He tells me there are people wearing jade in Port Massy, if you can believe it. Among the Kekonese immigrants, there’s a small, informal clan of sorts, and Anden’s gotten to know the local Pillar and his family.” Shae shook her head incredulously. “I can’t believe he traveled thousands of kilometers from Kekon to find himself among Green Bones again.”
“I’m not surprised.” Hilo spoke quietly. “Green isn’t easily rubbed away.”