With effort, she gave him a supportive smile. “Let’s both think about what the best next role is for you. I’ll support you in it, whatever it is. I only hope you can be patient for a little longer, until we identify someone to replace you as Weather Man’s Shadow.”
“Of course I wouldn’t leave until then.” Woon’s posture relaxed in relief at Shae’s quick acquiescence, though a troubled look remained in his eyes. “Thank you for understanding, Shaejen.” He stood back up and paused, seeming for a moment as if he wanted to say something else. Instead, he gave Shae a wan smile and exited her office, leaving her to listen to the clatter from the nearby halls and cubicles and wonder how it was possible to be surrounded by hundreds of people and yet feel entirely alone.
CHAPTER
4
The Pillarman Abroad
Maik Tar liked to have things to do that kept him busy, even if that meant being sent halfway around the world and finding himself on a boat in Whitting Bay in the middle of an Espenian winter. Having specific tasks to focus on—securing a fake passport and paperwork, collecting information, talking to the right people, planning, getting the boat and equipment—kept him from drinking too much and falling into terrible moods. And then, at the end of all the preparation: the surge of anticipation and adrenaline, the sharp tang of violent satisfaction. Hilo-jen trusted him above anyone else, gave him work that was difficult and brutal because no one else would be as tenacious, effective, and discreet. This knowledge was a light for Tar even in the darkest of moments.
Tar had been told that during the busy summer months in Port Massy, tour boats and private watercraft crowded the harbor and went up and down the Camres River, but this late in the evening in the off-season, there were no other vessels on the water. Tar stamped his feet and blew into his cupped hands, cursing the ridiculous cold as he watched the dim outline of the pier recede into the distance. When he could barely see the shore, Tar shouted out to Sammy in the cockpit. “We’re far enough out now. Cut the engine.”
The motorboat bobbed gently in the dark. Tar went below deck, ducking his head and holding on to the handrail. The cabin was lit with two orange overhead lights and the floor covered with black plastic sheeting and drop cloths. In the center of the room, a man was tied into an aluminum deck chair. The first time Tar had laid eyes on Willum “Skinny” Reams, he’d been wearing a charcoal-gray suit and brimmed felt hat, sitting next to Boss Kromner in Thorick Mansion. Now he was shirtless, goosepimples raising the fine dark hairs of his chest, his face bruised where he’d been knocked about and gagged during transit. His shoes and socks had been removed and his bare toes were curled against the cold.
“How’s it going down here?” Tar asked.
Kuno was kneeling next to a large metal washtub, stirring quickdry concrete mix with a small shovel. He sat back on his haunches and wiped a gloved hand over his brow. “This stuff will take longer to dry with it being so cold out,” he said.
“There’s a space heater in the closet over there. We can plug it in.” Tar went himself to take it out and set it up. The night would go faster with more hands to help, but he’d brought only Sammy and Kuno with him. The fewer people the better, as he didn’t know or trust these Kekonese-Espenian Green Bones as much as his own men in Janloon. He would’ve preferred to have Doun or Tyin with him, but it had been troublesome enough to set up one false identity, and for the sake of minimizing risk and maintaining good relations with Dauk Losunyin, the local Pillar, Kaul Hilo had not wanted it to appear as if No Peak was overextending its authority in Port Massy.
Reams looked around the boat room with cold rage and a complete lack of surprise. “You keck bastards.”
Tar stood in front of the man and looked down at him. “Why you end up here? Do you know?” he asked in Espenian. Tar did not speak the language well, but this was not his first trip to the country. He’d accompanied the Pillar on his initial visit here, over three years ago. Since then, he’d returned a few times on behalf of No Peak, to train the local Green Bones and do some work for the clan. He’d learned enough to get by. He didn’t need to talk much.
Skinny Reams opened his hands, which were bound at the wrists to the arms of the chair. “I’ve put my share of men in the river,” he admitted somberly. “God knows there’s no shortage of people who’d say I deserve to end up there myself.” He regarded Tar with disgust. “Didn’t think you kecks would be the ones to do it, though. You’re sore about Rohn Toro, but you couldn’t have pulled this off yourself.”