“No,” Wen agreed. “But we can take from it.”
The phone on the desk rang. Wen picked it up. “I’m sorry to interrupt your vacation,” said Juen’s voice. “Is Hilo-jen there?” Wen handed the receiver to Hilo. She washed up and got dressed while her husband spoke to the Horn, smoking and pacing back and forth in the hotel room as far as the phone cord would allow. When he hung up, she gave him an anxious, questioning look.
“Five of our Green Bones were ambushed and killed in Lukang last night,” he told her. “No one that you know,” he added quickly, upon seeing her alarm. “They were former members of Six Hands Unity who decided to swear oaths to No Peak. The Mountain found out about it and whispered their names.” He stubbed his cigarette out angrily, grinding it into the ashtray.
“Do we need to cut our trip short?” Wen asked worriedly.
Hilo shook his head. “Juen’s got it under control.”
Wen sat down on the end of the bed and watched her husband put on his clothes. Outside, Marcucuo’s weather was balmy and cloudless. Birdsong and the fragrance of blooming flowers from the Golden Spire Hotel’s lush gardens saturated the morning air beneath their hotel room balcony. No matter where they were in the world, however, they were never far from the feud, and the designs of their enemies.
Hilo finished buttoning up his shirt. He came over to her and cupped her jaw, then kissed the top of her head. “Ayt Mada’s not going to ruin our vacation. I’ll have things to deal with when we get home, but let’s enjoy ourselves while we’re here.”
_______
Eight hours later, they were welcomed into the foyer of a three-wing Alusian-style stucco mansion by Sel Lucanito. As the Pillar’s wife and his Pillarman, Wen had met many wealthy and powerful people, but they were usually affiliated with No Peak and seeking audience with the Pillar. It was different to be walking into the home of a foreign stranger, with none of the clan’s Fists or Fingers to be seen. She was not nervous—she was with Hilo, after all—but she did feel out of her element, reminded that as mighty as the No Peak clan had become, Kekon was still a small nation and there were people in the world with more money and influence than could be found on their island. A number of such people came to Marcucuo to entertain themselves in grand fashion and hobnob with fellow millionaires.
Sel Lucanito was a man who took up space not only with his height—he was a head taller than most of the other men in the room—but his expansive hyperenergetic presence. The multimillionaire owned residences in Tomascio, Espenia, and Marcucuo, spoke three languages, and owned several casinos, a network television company, and Spectacle One. Although he had never crossed paths with any of the Kauls in person, he knew who they were. It was impossible to be in a business with any connection to jade and not be aware of the Green Bone clans. Lucanito had gone to the trouble of learning “May the gods shine favor on you” in Kekonese, for the express purpose of greeting the Kauls on their arrival. With Tomascian chivalry, he bent into an impressively graceful bow given his height, then shook their hands with enthusiastic warmth and said, in Espenian, “I’m delighted you came. I have so much love and respect for the jade arts and your country’s traditions. That’s why I’m passionate about promoting a modern version of them to a global audience. I would love to see more Kekonese competitors involved in jadesports. There’s nothing like the mystique of the traditional Green Bone warrior to draw viewers.”
Hilo gave the entertainment tycoon the sort of smile that Wen knew he reserved for men he was treating nicely despite his personal opinion of them. She’d seen him use it on plenty of politicians, bureaucrats, and overly demanding Lantern Men. On the surface, it resembled his typical lopsided grin. Only someone who knew Hilo well could see when his eyes held none of the easy warmth of his true smile. She gave his hand a soft squeeze, reminding him to be polite, even to this foreigner whose true passion was making money off the jade abilities of others.
“You throw a great party,” Hilo said in rough Espenian, nodding at the man’s lavish house, the swarm of well-dressed guests, and the abundant spread of food and free-flowing alcohol. “My wife insisted we couldn’t come to Marcucuo and pass it up.”
Sel Lucanito beamed and threw his arm toward the revelry. “Please, enjoy yourselves! There’s so much we could talk about, and I hope we do, but I won’t monopolize your time. You’re the first Green Bone clan leaders I’ve had the pleasure of hosting, and everyone is going to want to meet you.”