Fonda Lee - Jade War

Shae glanced the way Niko had gone. “We’ve both crossed lines we never meant to. We’ve made decisions that we’ll have to live with the rest of our lives. We have that much in common.” She touched her face gingerly; her jaw still felt numb and it hurt to talk. She went to where Hilo sat and looked down at him. “I never encouraged Wen, never forced her to do anything. She came to me years ago, Hilo. All you wanted was for her to stay out of clan affairs, and all she wanted was in. She knew you’d never approve, but she’s too green at heart and was willing to risk even your love. Without her, we wouldn’t have established jade sales to the Espenians when we most needed it during the war with the Mountain, we wouldn’t have gained valuable information from the spies she managed, or transported jade to the Green Bones in Espenia and created our alliances there. We wouldn’t have been able to get to Zapunyo and kill him.”

Shae lowered herself to the ground next to her brother and rested her bruised back against the splintered cabinet. “Hate me from now on if you have to, but you need me to stay, Hilo. And you need Wen and Anden. You said it yourself years ago: We have each other, and maybe that’s the one thing we have that our enemies don’t.” Hilo’s aura gave a dark pulse, like an angry sigh, but he didn’t move or open his eyes. Shae slumped back and closed her own eyes. “The clan is my blood and the Pillar is its master,” she whispered. “I have a lot of regrets in life, but those oaths aren’t one of them.”

Shae had been sitting in the sanctum of the Temple of Divine Return for some time when she Perceived the unexpected presence of Ayt Madashi’s dense, molten jade aura pierce the fog of her thoughts, intensifying like a heat source against her closed eyes as it approached. Ayt knelt on the green cushion next to her. “I’m told that you visit the temple every week at the same time,” she said, conversationally. “Unwise from a security standpoint.”

A sense of oddly poignant déjà vu kept Shae motionless for a moment. She imagined reaching back in time with her mind and looking down at herself nearly five years ago, meeting Ayt Mada in this same place, unsure of whether she or her clan would survive the encounter. She felt no fear this time, though the puckered scar across her abdomen prickled. She opened her eyes, and for a second, her gaze slid involuntarily to Ayt’s bare arms. The coils of silver encircling them were more densely set with jade stones—jade that had once been part of Shae’s two-tier choker.

She raised her eyes calmly to Ayt’s face. “You’ve had your chances to kill me.”

“True,” Ayt agreed. “We’ll both know when the real time comes.” The Pillar of the Mountain was as formidable a presence as ever, but a few fine lines were visible around her eyes as she turned them on the younger woman. Over the past years, with all her public speeches and television appearances, she had taken to wearing some makeup. Shae was all of a sudden self-conscious of her own appearance; her face was still visibly bruised from where Hilo had struck her.

She brought her gaze back to the front, to the mural of Banishment and Return and the circle of meditating penitents. “You don’t bow in the sanctum,” she observed. “Do you ever come here to ask forgiveness from the gods? Do you even believe in the gods, Ayt-jen?”

“I believe in them,” Ayt said, “but I don’t need to explain myself to them. When I was eight years old, they destroyed my town and killed my family and everyone I cared for. In the orphanage, I was told that it wasn’t the gods that caused the landslide; it was the Shotarians and their bombs. Which goes to show that the gods don’t determine fate. People do. Powerful people.” Ayt gazed impassively at the penitents, who were, it was believed, carrying all their words to the ears of the gods in Heaven. “I’ve never killed or ordered someone to be killed out of anger or a desire for personal vengeance. When I’ve taken lives, it’s been out of necessity, for the ultimate good of the clan and the country. Can you say the same for yourself and your family, Kaul Shae-jen?”

Shae wondered if perhaps Ayt resented her in some way—if, beyond her simple ambition to see the Mountain prevail over No Peak, she harbored an ongoing desire to punish Shae specifically. The last time they’d met in this temple, Shae had spurned Ayt’s fratricidal offer that they rule together under one clan, and chosen instead that they should struggle against each other at every turn. She’d offered Ayt a clean blade, and by all rights, she should be dead, yet here she sat.

“I congratulate you on assassinating Zapunyo,” Ayt said, not expecting or waiting for Shae to answer the rhetorical question. “Perhaps you acted out of retribution, but you acted correctly for us all. Zapunyo was a blight on the world—an untrained foreigner, an Uwiwan —selling our jade to other foreign criminals. As Kekonese, as Green Bones, we can agree that he had to die. Zapunyo’s sons are dead as well. Iyilo and the rest of the barukan saw to it that same night.”

The casualness with which she said this shifted something in Shae’s mind. Suspicions revolved and fell neatly into place. “You were collaborating with them the whole time.”

Ayt said, “Your brother wanted to destroy the enterprise that Zapunyo had built. I wanted to take it. You and I came to the same conclusion, Kaul-jen: If we hope to extend our influence beyond the borders of our island nation, we need allies abroad. Allies with jade. Iyilo leads the barukan in the Uwiwas and has influential friends back in Shotar. They now control Zapunyo’s estate and all his considerable assets.”

“Which means that you control them,” Shae amended. “What did you pay to the half bones in order to secure their allegiance?” She made a noise of understanding before Ayt could answer. “Of course. The passing of the Oortokon Conflict Refugee Act. You whispered Chancellor Son’s name to ensure that the vote in the Royal Council would go your way.”

“We think of them as petty gangsters, but the barukan are human beings as much as any of us. They want to get their families out of war-torn Oortoko.” Ayt brushed a stray bit of lint from her smooth black slacks. “The Royal Council has voted to allow seven thousand Shotarians of Kekonese ancestry to immigrate to our country. Opponents of the Refugee Act have argued that it would be a security concern and a costly burden on the government. Fortunately, Green Bones will come to the aid of the country, as we have in the past.”

Ayt’s smile was cold and satisfied, the expression of a snake that has successfully swallowed a great meal. “Lawyers in my Weather Man’s office have already been clearing the way in anticipation of this important legislation. The Mountain clan will be reviewing applications and sponsoring refugees, helping them to find new homes, gainful employment, and a place in our society. We’ll teach them to leave behind their foreign customs, to learn our ways and integrate into Kekonese society—including accepting the authority of the clan.”

Shae nodded. Up to seven thousand additional sworn members of the Mountain clan, selected and brought in by Ayt and her people. New barukan Fingers who already wore jade, who romanticized the Green Bone way of life, who had strong connections to the black market jade trade and other criminal enterprises throughout Shotar, the Uwiwa Islands, Ygutan, and the rest of the region. The Mountain had been busy. While No Peak had been growing its international businesses, strengthening relationships with the Espenian government and the Green Bone community in Port Massy, Ayt had been building a base of power closer to home.