Jade War

CHAPTER 19 Reunion in Lybon

When Hilo arrived in Lybon, Stepenland, he was surprised by how clean everything was. The inter-terminal airport shuttle was a punctual, silver capsule that announced arrivals and departures in Stepenish, Espenian, and another language that was probably Lurmish. The temperature was mild, almost cool, even in late summer. The people weren’t unfriendly, but they seemed curt, pale, and efficient.

Hilo decided he would like to be able to drive around and see the city, so Tar rented a blue coupe from the airport car rental counter. While his Pillarman studied the map, Hilo got directions from the rental agent by showing her the address they needed to reach and having a conversation using the limited Espenian vocabulary that he possessed. When they eventually got on the road, it turned out to be easy to navigate Lybon. Compared to Janloon, the city was more like a large town, divided into four quadrants and bisected north-south by the Farstgein River. The blue outline of craggy mountains rose in the west, and picturesque tall brick houses with pointy roofs lined the wide streets, flowers spilling from the garden boxes of iron balconies. The sidewalks were narrow but bordered by immaculately trimmed green hedges and leafy trees.

Tar suggested they go to the hotel first, but Hilo shook his head; he’d slept on the plane and whenever possible he preferred to get on with whatever needed to be done.

The address turned out to be a quaint, single-story pastel green house in the northwest quarter of Lybon. Tar parked the car along the street. When they rang the doorbell, it opened almost at once. Eyni must’ve been expecting someone else, perhaps a delivery or a repairman, because she began to say something before she realized who was standing in front of her. Lan’s ex-wife took an involuntary step back, her eyes widening.

Hilo smiled and stepped across the threshold into the house. “Sister Eyni,” he said warmly, “I’m sorry for not calling ahead to let you know we were coming, but I didn’t have any Stepenish coins for the pay phone in the airport. I hope we’re not showing up at a bad time.” Hilo shut the front door behind Tar. “This is Maik Tar, I don’t know if you remember him; he was my Second Fist when I was Horn and now he’s my Pillarman.”

“What are you doing here?” Eyni’s voice came out high. “How did you find out where I live?”

“It’s easy to find those things out.” It was not worth mentioning that he’d tracked her down years ago, but at Lan’s direction, had never acted on the information. Eyni had changed somewhat; her face had not aged, but having a child had added to her hips and she’d cut her hair to chin-length.

Hilo took off his jacket and laid it across the back of a chair. He said, “Going back and forth by mail isn’t the best way to talk about important things. You have to take the time to write it all down, then wait for weeks before you get a reply. By then, you’ve practically forgotten what you said before. And when you can’t see the other person, it’s easy for there to be misunderstandings. For example, I know you didn’t mean to be rude to Wen, even though it came across that way on paper. So I thought: Instead of putting you to the trouble of planning a big trip to Janloon, which I know can be hard when you have a little kid, I’ll come talk to you in person.”

Eyni’s eyes darted from Hilo to the door. “Lors will be home any minute.”

“Good,” said Hilo. “Then we can all sit down together and be properly introduced.” He looked around the living room curiously. It was a small but bright space that smelled of floral air freshener. Eyni had always liked art; there were clay masks and small square watercolors on the walls and a wicker bowl on the coffee table that held fruits made out of felt, as well as, incongruously, a bright green plastic rattle in the shape of a frog. Eyni was trying to appear calm, but he could Perceive her heart beating, her distrust blaring like a red siren, and it irritated him. There were times when it was useful to inspire fear, when he needed to do so, but when he had no intention to frighten, the reaction was a bit offensive. He sat down on the sofa and, with a glance, bade Tar to do the same. Hilo picked up the rattle. “Where’s my nephew?”

“He’s napping,” Eyni said quickly, but at that moment, a noise came from another room and Hilo got up to see a toddler standing and clutching the white metal rails of a baby gate at the end of the hall. Hilo went to the child and crouched down on his knees. The two-year-old barely resembled the plump baby in the photograph Wen had shown him; now he had the features of a Kaul—the nose and mouth, the watchful eyes. Hilo could already tell that he would grow up to be the spitting image of Lan, in the same way that Lan had resembled their father. That seemed to be the way it was, with firstborn Kaul sons. The boy stared at Hilo with great interest, entirely unafraid. His left eye squinted slightly and he reached through the bars of the gate with a chubby hand. Hilo, entranced, put his hand out to the child, who grasped his fingers.

“Hello, Niko,” said the Pillar. “I’m your uncle Hilo.”

Eyni pushed past him and took the rattle as she opened the gate and picked up Nikolas, who gave a squeal of protest as she shushed him and carried him back into the nursery. The boy squirmed and reached out over his mother’s shoulder as he was taken away.

A sudden and all-consuming protectiveness seized Hilo. He’d only just met the child, but now he regretted that he hadn’t come earlier. He should’ve come as soon as Wen had shown him the letter and not waited. He almost reached out to seize Eyni’s arm, to prevent her from hurrying Niko away mere seconds after he’d finally laid eyes on the boy.

Eyni disappeared into the other room, then reemerged a minute later, closing the door behind her. “He should be sleeping,” she explained. “He’s been fighting naps lately. If he gets too excited, he won’t settle down and then he’ll be cranky this evening.” She led the way back down the hall without looking at her former brother-in-law. Hilo followed at something of a distance. Once in the living room again, he said, with a greater sense of determination, “We need to talk, Eyni. It’s true we didn’t use to be friends; maybe I wasn’t ever really like a brother to you and you weren’t ever really like a sister to me, but that’s not important now. We have to think about what’s best for Niko. We need to talk about you returning to Janloon.”

Eyni was facing away from him, her back rigid. When she turned around, her arms were crossed and her expression was tight with suppressed anger and stubborn resolve. “You shouldn’t have come here, Hilo,” she said. “I told your wife not to contact me again, and I didn’t respond to your last two letters for a reason. I’ve put the past behind me.”

Hilo’s face twisted in a flash of annoyance. “You wrote to Lan. I saw the letter; you said you wanted your son to know his father and you were willing to move back to Kekon.”

“That was two years ago,” Eyni exclaimed. “I hadn’t been in Lybon for long, and after Niko was born, I felt so alone and unsure about everything. I still loved and missed Lan, but then I learned through friends—friends, because no one in the clan even bothered to tell me—that he was dead. Murdered. In some ridiculous Green Bone war that had taken over the whole city.”

“You’d left the family,” Hilo said, without sympathy. “That’s why you weren’t told.”

“Yes,” Eyni said quietly. “It took me some time, but I finally did leave. I have a life here with Lors now. We have a home and friends. We’ve no reason to go back to Kekon.”

“No reason?” Hilo was flabbergasted, but he forced himself to take several seconds to compose a reply; he knew that his temper could sometimes cause him to say things that could not be unsaid. In as patient a voice as he could manage, he said, “I admit I don’t know much about Lybon, but I know it’s no place to raise a Green Bone. There are hardly any Kekonese people here. What kind of life could Niko possibly have in Stepenland? He’ll always be an outsider. He needs to grow up in Janloon, where his family is.”

“Lors and I are his family,” Eyni replied.

“This man, your boyfriend, he’s not Kekonese. And is he really willing to raise a child that isn’t his? Are you even married?”

Eyni’s eyes flashed with indignation. “What does that matter? We’re committed to each other and to raising children together.”

Hilo was silent for a minute. “All right,” he said at last. “I see how it is. Let’s sit down to talk; there’s no need to get angry at each other from across the room.” He went to Eyni slowly, as if approaching a skittish horse, and taking her elbow, led her toward the sofa. He sat down and though she extricated her arm from his grasp, she did as he wished and sat down next to him. Hilo said, in a much gentler voice, “I think you probably remember me as Lan’s kid brother. I was quite a bit younger than he was, and it’s true that I didn’t always have the best judgment. Who really does, at that age? But a lot has changed in the years since you left Kekon. I’m the Pillar of the clan now, and that means that when I make a decision, it’ll be followed.

“You left Janloon under not the best of circumstances, and you’ve grown used to this foreign country, so I can appreciate you’re reluctant to return. And you want to stay with your boyfriend, I understand that.” He leaned forward to look into her downcast face. “Here’s what I can promise: You and your family will have a good life in Janloon, better than what you have here. The clan will make all the arrangements. You’ll have a house, on or off the Kaul estate—it’s your choice. A car and driver, a housekeeper, a nanny for Niko, and whatever else you need. Once you’re married in Janloon, I’ll welcome your husband into the family. He’s lived in Kekon before. Does he still work in tourism? There’re plenty of foreigners in Janloon these days, and more international companies than ever before. It won’t be a problem to find him a good job; he’ll probably have his pick.” Of course, Hilo had no intention of ever bringing Eyni’s foreign lover into No Peak, but he supposed he could learn to tolerate the man’s presence in Janloon, so long as their interactions were infrequent. It was an issue he was willing to compromise on, since Eyni was the sort of person who would need companionship, and no respectable Kekonese man was going to have her.

While she was contemplating his assurances, Hilo said, “Tar, why don’t you get us all something to drink.” The Pillarman, who’d been sitting back and watching the exchange, got up and went into the galley kitchen. Eyni looked up anxiously and made a slight movement as if to follow him, but then seemed to think better of it. She settled back and twisted her hands together in her lap. Hilo said, “There’s something else to consider: My wife, Wen, is pregnant. She’s due in less than two months. Niko will have cousins close to his age. He’ll have aunts and uncles who love him, and in Janloon, he’ll grow up as a Kaul, as the first son of No Peak.” He gestured to Eyni’s house and its surroundings. “Is this place so much better that it’s worth giving up your son’s birthright? Worth abandoning your home country?”

Tar returned with two glasses of water. Eyni’s hands trembled slightly as she took a glass without looking and drained it quickly. Hilo could tell that his last words had struck a chord. Eyni might be a woman without much depth, but on some level, he knew she must be homesick. She wouldn’t have left Kekon on her own if it hadn’t been for the affair and the divorce, and now that Hilo was offering the forgiveness of the clan and a return to a life of status back in Janloon, it wasn’t hard to Perceive the internal war raging inside her. He drank some water and waited.

Eyni held tight to the empty glass. “It’s true there’re things I don’t like about Lybon and things I miss dearly about Janloon,” she admitted at last. “But the life you’re offering—life in the ruling Green Bone family of No Peak—it’s what broke me and Lan apart. It’s what got him killed. It’s nothing but steel and jade and blood. It’s not a safe or happy life… and it’s not what I want for Niko.”

The flare in the Pillar’s aura made Tar look up with more interest. In a soft, disbelieving voice, Hilo said, “Niko is my nephew, the son of a Pillar of No Peak, the great-grandson of the Torch of Kekon. He was born to be a Green Bone. And you want him to grow up speaking another language, surrounded by foreigners, never wearing jade, never knowing who he is?” Eyni truly was a faithless woman, but Hilo felt that what she was doing now was even worse than her betrayal of Lan. “How can you justify that, as a Kekonese?”

Eyni stood, hands clenched at her sides. “You don’t understand anything, Hilo. Maybe if Lan were still alive, things would be different, but you’re not Lan. You’re not Niko’s father. And I’m not an underling of the clan who’ll upend my family’s life to do whatever you want.”

“Watch how you talk to the Pillar, now,” Tar broke in with a warning note in his voice, but Hilo silenced him with a look and a sharp shake of the head. He’d heard a car door closing outside and now he Perceived someone approaching the house.

Eyni rushed to the door as it opened. A trim Stepenish man with reddish hair stepped inside. Seeing Hilo and Tar, he stopped in surprise and confusion. Hilo rose from his seat and Tar stood with him. Eyni took her boyfriend’s arm and said in Kekonese, so everyone could understand, “Lors, this is Hilo, my ex-husband’s brother from Janloon. He and his friend were visiting Lybon and dropped in to say hello. I forgot to mention they were coming.”

The man’s posture relaxed slightly. Hilo realized that Eyni was afraid for Lors’s safety. She was trying to put him at ease, to prevent him from trying to challenge the strange men in his house. “Hello,” Lors said warily, in accented but reasonably fluent Kekonese. “We haven’t had any of Eyni’s friends from Kekon visit us before. How long are you here?”

“Not long,” Hilo said. “I came to meet my nephew. Until a few months ago, I didn’t know I had one. It’s unfortunate you live so far away; the rest of my family would like to meet him too.”

“Yes, well, it’s a rather awkward situation, it is,” said the man, smiling nervously and running a hand through his coppery hair. “We figured there might be some hard feelings, after all.”

“None that can’t be put aside,” Hilo replied. He glanced at Eyni, who stood stiffly by her boyfriend’s side. “I was just talking to Eyni about how much we wish you’d all return to Janloon. But she seems to prefer it here. You must’ve done a good sales job, to be able to lure a Kekonese woman so far from home.”

Lors chuckled, put at ease by Hilo’s casual and complimentary tone. “I must say, before I lived in Kekon, I’d no idea how beautiful the women were there. I don’t know how I was so lucky as to get one.” He gave Eyni’s bottom an affectionate pat. “I’ve traveled to my fair share of exotic places, and I dare say she’s the best souvenir I’ve brought back from any of them. Isn’t that right, flower?” Eyni smiled in a faintly uncomfortable way, still looking at Hilo. Lors said, “Listen, Hilo—I did say your name right, didn’t I? You seem like a good fellow. I just want to say that I never meant anything against your brother. I didn’t even know him. It’s just that Eyni and I, well…” He put his arm around Eyni, who stiffened a little more, “We were—are—in love. Do you have a woman at home that you love?”

Hilo gave a nod.

“Well, then, you can understand, can’t you? In my country, we have a saying.” Lors spoke a phrase in Stepenish, then translated it into Kekonese. “‘Flowers grow even in the desert; so too there is nowhere love cannot happen.’”

Hilo’s lips twitched upward. “It’s nice to see that the two of you are happy together, even after such a big move and the addition of a child that you must’ve hoped was yours.”

The man’s smile wavered. “Well… families can be messy, can’t they? We plan to give Nikolas plenty of brothers and sisters. He’ll fit right in and it’ll all work out.”

“I’m sure it will,” Hilo said. “But it’s a shame for my nephew to be so far from his relatives and not know anything of his Kekonese heritage. So we should compromise. In a few years, when Niko’s older, he can split his time between Stepenland and Kekon. Half the year here in Lybon, half the year in Janloon.” Hilo was honestly pleased with the solution that had just occurred to him, and felt that it could not possibly be objectionable. It was not a perfect arrangement, not what he’d hoped for, but he’d come here knowing that Eyni was difficult. This would be acceptable to everyone. “When he’s in Janloon, he’ll live with me and my wife and we’ll treat him like our own son. There are international schools in Janloon now, even ones that teach Stepenish and other languages. He can attend one of those until he’s ten; then he can go to Kaul Dushuron Academy during the school year and return to Lybon during the holidays. He’ll grow up to appreciate both countries and both cultures. A global citizen. Everyone says that’s the way of the future; it’ll be an advantage for him.”

“That sounds like an excellent idea,” said Lors. “Don’t you think so, flower? Especially after we have kids of our own, it’ll be awfully helpful for Nikolas’s Kekonese relatives to raise him some of the time.” To Hilo, “You might take your offer back if you knew how much of a colicky little monster he can be! I think it was rather hard on Eyni the first six months.”

Eyni’s face was rigid; she nudged her boyfriend in the ribs in an attempt to make him stop talking. Hilo said, “Tar and I will be in Lybon for a few more days. We’ve never been here before and want to look around and enjoy the city. Why don’t we all get together for a proper dinner on Fifthday evening—I’ll pay, of course—and talk about this some more, so I can tell the family the good news. Bring Niko along; we’ll go somewhere casual.”

The red-haired man shook Hilo’s hand and then Tar’s. “I dare say I’m sorry we’ve never met before now. Eyni, you really should’ve told me they were coming.” In an aside to Hilo, “I don’t understand why she doesn’t keep in touch with relatives in Kekon. Seems to think they’ll judge us. Personally, during my two years in Janloon, I found all the people I met to be good-natured and pleasant. Nothing like the stereotypes.”

“I only want what’s best for both our families,” Hilo said.

They made arrangements to reconvene in three days’ time. Hilo and Tar left the house and walked back to the rental car. “What’re we going to do here for three days?” Tar asked.

Hilo glanced back at the house and lit a cigarette. “I want you to follow that man and find out everything there is to know about him. It could be useful.”