Tod appeared next to them and said with forced conviviality, “I’ll let Sana know you’re here, Jon. What’ll you have to drink?”
Remi seemed perplexed for a moment. Perhaps he’d built Kaul Hilo up in his mind over many years of being told he was one of the most dangerous men back in Kekon, and now he wasn’t sure how to respond to a benign meeting. Remi snorted and said to Tod, with a shrug, “Hoji, even though I hate the stuff. In honor of the old man, right?”
He strode away without giving Hilo or Anden another glance. His men followed. As soon as they were out of earshot and normal conversation had started up again, Hilo turned to Anden with a stern look. “What’s the matter with you, Andy?”
“He’s a boor and a gangster, Hilo-jen,” Anden replied with heat. “He was obviously trying to goad you, here at Dauk-jen’s funeral in front of everyone. He has no respect for anything.”
“Don’t show off how much you hate a man until you’re ready to be his enemy,” Hilo admonished. “Remi’s away from his own city where he’s grown powerful, and he’s the sort of man to act badly to prove his confidence. Even if he’s not a good person, don’t forget he’s done everything we wanted against the Mountain.”
Jon Remi and his gang, the Snakeheads, had indeed been invaluable to No Peak. After multiple setbacks, the Mountain’s entry into Espenia never recovered. Iwe Kalundo, Ayt’s Weather Man, had turned his clan’s expansion priorities firmly on Shotar instead. Nearly twenty years after Anden had first come to Port Massy, No Peak remained the only Kekonese clan with substantial power in the Republic of Espenia.
Yet the clan had still not achieved the legal security it needed to preserve the business, and now, without Dauk Losun’s influential friendship, accomplishing anything in the country would be much harder. Hilo watched the Resville Green Bones, their pale jackets easy to pick out at the bar. Anden felt the smooth edge of Hilo’s jade aura swell momentarily. “Jon Remi is our ally until I say otherwise,” the Pillar said in an undertone. “Whether it stays that way is up to him. We’ll see how things go tomorrow.”
_______
Upon returning to their room in the Crestwood Hotel, Hilo said, “It’s fucking cold in here.” He took off his suit jacket and tie and shrugged into a sweater, then turned up the heat in the room. Anden had heard his cousin complain before that cold made his shoulder ache and sometimes his wrist as well. Years spent fighting took a heavy toll on the body, even before accounting for the injuries Hilo had sustained in the Janloon bombing. Surgery to stitch his spleen and repair his scapula had been followed by months of physiotherapy before he could train again. Five years later, the Pillar appeared fully recovered, as strong a Green Bone as ever, but Anden knew that even the best healers and trainers could only do so much. Those who were close to Hilo noticed the moments when he moved without his usual grace or winced at some lingering pain.
Anden said, “I’m going downstairs to the gift shop, to pick up some small things for coworkers at the clinic.” It was a tiny lie, and if Hilo Perceived it, he didn’t say.
Anden took the elevator down to the ground floor and used a calling card to place a long-distance phone call from one of the pay phones at the back of the lobby. When the call picked up, Anden said, “I’m glad I caught you before you went to work.” It would be just past dawn in Janloon, and Jirhuya was an early riser.
“I’m not in a rush,” Jirhu said. “I’m waiting for the director to get back to me on the budget anyway. So I’m enjoying breakfast and then going to the gym.” Kekon’s growing film industry, financed by the No Peak clan, had given the artist steady work for several years. Anden heard the sound of running water shut off in the background, then a pause. With sly suggestiveness, “Too bad you’re not here with me.”
“I wish I were,” Anden said. “We need to stay a little longer to deal with some clan things. I’ll be back on Fourthday.” He couldn’t hear Jirhu’s reply because at that moment a large group of people passed through the hotel lobby, and Anden had to cover his other ear to block out their loud chatter. “Sorry, it’s noisy here. What did you say?”
“Will you be okay?” It was the only thing Jirhuya ever asked when it came to Anden’s activities on behalf of No Peak. Jirhu had no wish to have anything to do with the clans beyond day-to-day life in Janloon. He knew Anden’s world involved jade and money, politics and bloodshed, on a level even ordinary Kekonese did not understand, much less an Abukei artist. His only concern when it came to clan dealings was Anden’s safety.