Niko shrugged. “I can ask my uncle. Maybe there’s room to squeeze a couple more people into the box at the next game.”
Sim’s face split in a huge grin. “It would mean Heaven and earth to her. I’d be eternally grateful if the Pillar made an exception. Of course, I understand if it’s not possible.” He touched his forehead. “Thank you, Niko-jen.”
It occurred to Niko minutes later that he should’ve asked Sim his niece’s name, how old she was, how long she’d been a relayball fan. Get to know his fellow Fingers, the men he fought alongside, who might one day save his life, or rise to be his most dependable Fists when he became Pillar.
His uncle wouldn’t have even had to think about it. It was Kaul Hilo’s great talent. He could have a single ordinary conversation with a man and make him loyal for life. Niko’s mother would not only ask the name of Sim’s niece, she would remember her birthday and send her a Janloon Spirits jersey the following year. Both Ru and Jaya would’ve easily come up with something more to say.
Such behavior did not come naturally to Niko. The tending of relationships and influence, the leading of men. Much of the time, he preferred to be alone, and he especially disliked being forced into the social spotlight. He didn’t extend or accept trust easily. He had close friends such as the Juen twins and his cousin Maik Cam, and he didn’t think of himself as unfriendly, but many of the classmates and fellow Fingers who’d tried to get close to him over the years had found the task difficult. Mera was only the latest example.
A few days after Niko had been punished for failing to duel Kitu, the Pillar had taken him out for breakfast, just the two of them. Hilo had cooled down by then and wanted to talk. “Niko-se,” he sighed, “I’m hard on you only because I love you. When the time comes for you to lead the clan, I want you to be well prepared, much more than I was. Everything you do now, even as a Finger, is a bit of a picture you’re filling in about yourself and the family.”
Niko hadn’t pointed out to his uncle that it seemed the picture was already very much filled in, and his job was to fit himself into it. Sometimes, to his shame, he even envied Ru for being a stone-eye and Jaya for being a girl—at least they had other options. He didn’t dare to admit these feelings to his uncle.
Lott Jin checked his watch and scowled. Anyone who worked under Juen Nu was accustomed to timeliness. Niko studied the First Fist, trying selfishly to figure out what made him exceptional, what had enabled him to climb above hundreds of other warriors in the clan. Jade ability was only part of the equation. Lott was certainly a strong Green Bone, and his skill with throwing knives was legendary, but there were others of equal or greater martial prowess. Nor was Lott the most well-liked of the senior Fists. At times, he could be pessimistic and confrontational, scornful in his criticisms and spare with praise. Yet, something about him had attracted the Pillar’s attention years ago. Niko tried to find the right word. Resolved. Lott Jin seemed to have shaped himself around being a Green Bone of the clan. Some people simply lived by following their natural inclinations. Others decided what they wished to be and then made themselves that way.
Three metallic green Torroyo RP800 motorcycles drove through the fish head intersection and pulled up around the Lumezza. The lead Mountain Fist got off his bike and strode toward Lott Jin. An unpleasant jolt of recognition stiffened Niko’s spine as he straightened away from the car. It had been several years since he’d laid eyes on Ayt Atosho in person, although he’d seen him on television a few times. In recent years, the man’s good looks had settled, like a clay sculpture after firing. Lines of small jade studs pierced over both eyebrows drew attention to his heavy-lidded eyes. He wore a traditional fitted leather vest over a bold red shirt with jade cuff links. Ayt Ato was a picture of urban Green Bone style.
Niko had heard it said jokingly that every woman in the Mountain clan was in love with Ayt Ato. Sadly for them, Ayt Mada had purportedly forbidden her twenty-seven-year-old nephew from dating until he completed his university degree, which he’d been working toward on a part-time basis for the past six years.
“Lott-jen,” Ayt Ato called out as he strolled toward them. “I’m told you’ll soon be the Horn of No Peak.”
“That’s for the Pillar to decide,” the First Fist replied curtly. Lott’s father had been murdered and beheaded by the Mountain many years ago. Necessity compelled Lott to work with Green Bones on the other side, but he was never friendly toward anyone in the Mountain clan.