Jade War

CHAPTER 20 Complications

"You’ve been quiet,” Maro said. They lay facing each other, Shae’s leg thrown over his thigh, his hand resting on her hip, their bodies sticky and languid. The pedestal fan in the corner of Maro’s bedroom oscillated back and forth, blowing cooled air over their bare skin. The Autumn Festival had recently passed, and typhoon season this year had been mild, but still the blanket of summer lingered damp and heavy over Janloon. Shae did not want to get up to go to work.

“Something on your mind?” Maro asked.

A lot of things were on her mind—too many to choose from, all of them No Peak matters that would be difficult to explain. She ran a hand over the curve of Maro’s bare shoulder. “Does it bother you?” she asked. “That I wear more jade? That I’m a Kaul?” She wondered if she sounded insecure, but with Maro she felt unguarded, removed from the day-to-day realities of the clan.

Maro hesitated. He drew his fingers up her arm and collarbone to the hollow of her throat, bringing them to rest lightly on the two-tier jade choker around her neck. “It does bother me a little,” he admitted. “Men are expected to be stronger and greener than women, and it’s hard not to be affected by what the world expects. People might assume I’m trying to climb to the top of the clan by being with you, when that’s not true. I like spending time with you for your personality, not your family name or your jade.”

Shae lowered her head and flicked her tongue over his nipple. “Just my personality?”

“And this.” He jiggled one of her breasts. “And this.” He squeezed her ass, and Shae gave a yelp of laughter. Maro’s smile faded. “I should be the one asking you. Are you ashamed of dating me? Is that why we always come to my place, because you don’t want to introduce me to your family?”

Shae was quiet for a moment. “You might not want to know my family.”

“I’m not naive,” Maro said. “I know Green Bones, and I know your brother’s reputation.”

“It’s not just Hilo. The realities of the clan, of being a Kaul… you might not want to be a part of that.” She traced his eyebrow with her thumb. For the past three months, whenever she made her usual weekly visit to the Temple of Divine Return and knelt to pray in the sanctum, she thought of Doru’s body flung back against the armchair. “I had to kill a man recently. Someone I knew well.”

Maro stiffened slightly. “I’m sure there were good reasons.”

“There were, but I couldn’t do it,” Shae said. “I’ve never had to kill someone I knew so personally. When the time came, I couldn’t draw my blade. Strangely enough, I’m sad that I failed him. And worse yet, I lost the respect of a person whose support I need.” She was still mulling on how she’d damaged her standing with Hami. The Master Luckbringer was a former Fist; he was unlikely to forgive such a stumble. A Green Bone leader couldn’t be soft or hesitant, especially if she was a woman and people were expecting her to fail. Ayt Mada had killed her father’s closest friends; she had ordered the death of her own brother. She would not have hesitated in that cabin.

Shae said to Maro, “You wear jade, but you’re an educated, accomplished professional and a world traveler. I wish there were more people like you. You’re the modern side of the country. But Kekon’s other side is all blood and steel. Somehow, as the Weather Man of No Peak, I have to be both of those things at the same time.”

Maro was silent for a long minute. Then he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, his back to her, elbows resting on his knees. Shae wondered if she had said something wrong, inadvertently offended him in some way, but before she could ask, Maro said, “There’s a reason why I chose a career in foreign studies, and why I’ve specialized in Shotar in particular.” He looked over his shoulder at Shae, then turned back around partway to face her. “My father was a Shotarian soldier stationed in the Janloon garrison during the Many Nations War. He fell in love with a local girl; he and my mother wanted to get married but neither side would allow it. He was sent back to Shotar along with the rest of the retreating army, and my mother gave birth to me a few months later.”

Maro’s voice took on a bitter edge that Shae had never heard in him before. “My grandparents told everyone that my father was a young Green Bone fighter in the One Mountain Society who’d been killed in the war. Far better to be the love child of a dead jade warrior than the bastard of an enemy soldier. To preserve the family’s reputation, my mother went along with the story her whole life. She finally told me the truth while sick on her deathbed, when I was in my twenties. All my life until then, I’d wondered why, if my father was supposedly a Green Bone warrior, I was so hopeless at the jade disciplines. I figured it was my fault for not trying hard enough, for reading books instead of training.” Maro raised his face toward the ceiling and laughed painfully. “To think of all the childhood insecurity I could’ve avoided. When I learned the truth, I was furious at my mother and grandparents. They robbed me of half my identity, just because they were ashamed.”

Maro shifted closer. He tucked a strand of hair behind Shae’s ear, giving her a wan smile. “I know that I can’t understand what it’s like to be a Kaul, or the pressures you face as Weather Man. But you don’t have a monopoly on poisonous honor culture. Maybe the Green Bone clans sit at the top of it, but it goes all the way down.”

Shae was not sure what to say. She felt grateful to Maro for confiding in her, but also oddly culpable. She and her family were very much responsible for perpetuating the Green Bone way of life, the cultural preoccupation with greenness that permeated every aspect of Kekonese society. “Did you ever try to find your father afterward?” she asked.

“I did.” Maro leaned against the headboard. “It took me a few years to even work up the courage to look for him, but I eventually found him. After the war, he married a woman in his home country. I found out that I have two Shotarian half sisters.” Maro paused, his gaze turned inward. “I went to Leyolo City six years ago for the first time to meet all of them. It was… a strange experience. I think my father never stopped feeling sad and guilty about leaving my mother, even though he had no choice because deserting the Shotarian army meant execution. I get the sense that my existence reminds him of sad times. He’s nice enough, and we still keep in touch, but…” Maro trailed off. The sun was creeping up the window. Outside, Shae could hear the chime of the street tram and the shouts of the city’s more industrious street hawkers. Maro said, with a happier note in his voice, “I’ve gotten to know my half sisters much better. They’re younger than me, of course, and the older of them—those are her two girls, my nieces, in the picture.”

Shae had always thought that the two children did not look Kekonese, but had politely refrained from questioning Maro about it. “They’re awfully cute,” she told him.

Maro got off the bed and took the framed photograph from the dresser. “That’s Kullisho,” he said, pointing to the older girl. “She’s an avid reader and loves cats.” He smiled and pointed at the younger sister. “Danallo, the little piglet, is always getting herself hopelessly covered in dirt, but she’s the sweetest little girl and says the funniest things. I hope one day if I have children that they’re half as good as my nieces.”

Shae looked at the two cherubic faces and then back over at Maro. How many Kekonese would not only admit to, but seek out, a foreign bloodline? Her own adopted cousin, Anden, had never shown any interest in his biological father or his Espenian ancestry. It still pained her to remember how unhappy he’d been about being sent to Port Massy at all. Perhaps things were different for Maro because he could easily pass as completely Kekonese, but then again, in their parents’ and grandparents’ generation, Shotarians were the most despised of foreigners. “It was brave of you to contact the Shotarian side of your family. And to make the effort to have a real relationship with them.” She meant it sincerely.

Maro put the photograph back down. “The rest of my family doesn’t think so. My grandmother’s passed away now—let the gods recognize her—but my grandfather won’t talk about it, and neither will my uncles or cousins. They think it was wrong for me to stir up something that should’ve been left alone.” Maro sighed. He picked out his clothes from the closet and began to dress, slowly. “They have reasons other than prejudice. I’m the only one in my family who wears jade. I have a good career at the university and connections to the Royal Council. The story of my real parentage would only drag our family down. So I keep it a secret, just like my mother did.”

Maro sat back down on the bed next to her. “You see? Every family has some darkness that it’s afraid to share, even the ones that aren’t famous and powerful.” At her thoughtful silence, Maro kissed the curve of her jaw, then looked at the clock on the dresser. “It’s getting late; I should get to work.”

“Me too.” Shae startled at the time. She got up and went to the closet, taking out the set of clothes she kept at Maro’s apartment. She dressed while Maro went into the bathroom to shave and was done when he got out. “I didn’t answer your question,” she said, picking up her shoes. “I do want to have you over at my new house, now that it’s finally finished. My sister-in-law is still working on decorating the inside, but I’m mostly moved in by now. Would you like to come over and have dinner sometime?”

Maro patted down his tousled hair; Shae found his rumpled professor appearance in the mornings endearingly sexy. “Even now that you know I’m a half-Shotarian bastard?” Maro said it lightly, but there was a note of worry in his voice. A suggestion that perhaps he wasn’t sure he should’ve told her so much, made himself so vulnerable.

Shae went to the door. “My cousin’s mixed blood; it doesn’t matter.” Years ago, she’d made a mistake by keeping the relationship with Jerald a secret, fearing her grandfather’s scathing disapproval. But Grandda was gone now, and she was not afraid of Hilo’s opinion, whatever it might be.

Woon was waiting in Shae’s office when she arrived, thirty minutes later than usual. He stood up as she came in, and Shae felt suddenly awkward, knowing that he suspected the reason she was late this morning and wondering if he could smell Maro all over her. He seemed unusually anxious, not his usual self. Swallowing uncomfortably, he handed her a folded piece of paper. Shae began to read it, then looked up at the Weather Man’s Shadow in bewilderment. “What is this?”

“My resignation, Kaul-jen,” Woon said.

“Your resignation?” Shae stared at him. “Why?”

The man would not meet her eyes. “You can find someone better for the position.”

Shae dropped the letter and her purse on her desk. “What’s this really about, Papi-jen?”

Woon’s normally even aura was churning with agitation. “I think you know by now,” he said hoarsely. “Don’t make me say it, Shae-jen. I value our friendship too much.”

Shae shook her head, fighting down a swell of panic. Her position was tenuous enough as it was. She’d been concerned about losing Hami’s support but had not imagined that she might lose Woon. He had been unfailing in his duties, always dependable, at her side through every difficult situation since she’d come into this office. Woon was her right hand, as he had been for her brother Lan. She could not lose him, not if she wished to remain Weather Man of No Peak. “I don’t accept this resignation, Woon-jen.”

Woon looked up sharply. Shae could count on one hand the number of times she’d seen him appear angry. “I’ve served you as best I could,” he said, his voice not quite steady. “You’re being unfair, to keep me in a role I’m asking to leave.”

“I need you,” Shae said. “There’s no one else who could take your place as Shadow, who I’d trust as much. Under other circumstances, you would’ve been Lan’s Weather Man.”

“I failed Lan-jen,” Woon said, his face stricken. “I’m afraid I’m failing him again now. And that I’ll fail you.”

“The only way you’ll fail me is if you leave.” Shae stood in front of the man. “Please, Papi-jen. You know I could go to the Pillar and ask that he order you to stay. I don’t want to do that. I won’t do that. But I need you to keep helping me as you have.”

Woon’s shoulders sagged. “It’s too painful for me, Shae-jen,” he confessed. “You’re Lan-jen’s sister, and the Weather Man, so I would never cross either of those lines; but we spend so much time together, I can’t help how I feel.”

Shae could not believe this was happening. It was not that she didn’t feel any affection for Woon; on the contrary, she’d come to count him as a true friend. He was almost a decade older than her, but handsome in an unassuming way, and there was no questioning his work ethic and character. She had simply never considered a romantic relationship with a subordinate. And of course she was with Maro now, so it was out of the question. The fact remained, however, that she could not afford to lose Woon Papidonwa, even if she had to hurt him.

“You’re a good man, Papi-jen,” Shae said. “You deserve someone who’ll show as much devotion to you as you’ve shown to the clan and to my family.” She wanted to put a hand on her friend’s arm, in the casual manner that she used to, but was afraid to touch him in any way now, for fear of making the situation worse. Her mind sprinted through options: Could she offer him more pay? A bigger office? Or would that only offend him, show her to be even more callous than he already thought she was? She had only one reliable piece of emotional leverage over him, and she used it now, knowing and regretting that it would have a cruel effect on him.

“We’re both in our positions because of tragedy, because we owe it to Lan to be able to face him in the afterlife,” she insisted. “We managed to keep No Peak afloat during the war, but there’s a lot more to do, to make the business strong enough to outlast its enemies. We’re a good team, Papi-jen; we’re changing the Weather Man’s office for the better. We’ve made investments and alliances that will pay off. And the work we’re doing won’t just benefit the clan, but the country as a whole. Give it a year. Can you put aside any discomfort you might have around me, for one year?”

Shae stopped talking, afraid that if she continued, she’d only show her own desperation and weaken what she’d already said. She waited with held breath as indecision shifted across Woon’s face. At last, eyes downcast, he nodded reluctantly. Shae breathed again. The Weather Man’s Shadow opened his mouth to say something, but at that moment, there was a loud knock on Shae’s office door.

Woon stepped away from her as the door opened and Hami thrust his head into the room. He glanced between them for a second, eyes narrowed, then said, brusquely, “It’s happened. Espenian ground forces invaded Oortoko. It’s on every news channel right now.”

They followed him into the office floor’s common area, where a dozen people were gathered around a television. On screen, the KNB news anchor Toh Kita was speaking to a political analyst over video footage showing convoys of Espenian military transports traveling through the hills of eastern Shotar and air support launching from the aircraft carrier RES Massy.

The news cut to Chancellor Son Tomarho giving a speech in Wisdom Hall. The chancellor declared that “Kekon stands with its Espenian allies” but also emphasized the need for “diplomacy, honest dialogue, and mutual respect,” and he expressed deep concern about the potential for civilian casualties in the military conflict. Shae understood all that to mean the Espenians had not informed the Kekonese government before proceeding to invade Oortoko. In his official comments on behalf of the Royal Council, Son was now being forced to walk a fine line between the public interests that the Council ostensibly represented, the clans they were functionally beholden to, and the reality of the country’s diplomatic alliances.

An hour after Son’s speech, Ayt Madashi held an impromptu interview with reporters as she stood outside Wie Lon Temple where she was attending an alumni fundraiser. A crowd of hard-bodied young Green Bone trainees filled the background of the screen. “In my father’s day, the One Mountain Society fought against the tyranny and brutality of the Shotarians. It’s appalling that our jade and our security are now being sacrificed on behalf of the foreigners that killed, raped, and tortured our countrymen.” The Pillar of the largest clan on Kekon was as self-assured on camera as she was in person. She spoke in the clear, precise voice of a natural orator and her steady gaze appeared to travel through the small television screen to rest on each viewer individually.

“Chancellor Son can stand with the Espenians,” Ayt said, “but the Mountain clan stands for Kekon alone. We will defend it against avowed enemies or those masquerading as friends. I am not a politician. Gold and jade, never together. But if you must choose between the two, count on jade.”

A few people standing near the office television began to cheer, before realizing who they were cheering. Shae saw them clap their hands over their mouths and glance at her in chagrin. She could not fault them. Ayt Mada, her sworn enemy, who had vowed in Shae’s presence to kill everyone in the Kaul family and destroy the No Peak clan, had spoken on behalf of the nation’s Green Bones and given voice to the sentiments of the people of Kekon.

Meanwhile, Kaul Hilo was nowhere to be seen or found because he was on the other side of the world. “Find the number of the hotel my brother is staying in,” Shae ordered her secretary as she strode back to her office. “Then get me on the phone with him, now.”