Shae sat down on the sofa to appease her nephew. “Where’s your da?”
Ru shrugged, but Niko said, with sudden worry, “Do you think he’ll divorce Ma?”
Shae was taken aback by the six-year-old’s question, coming seemingly out of nowhere, but before she could think of how to respond, Ru jumped on his brother and began hitting him in the shoulders and stomach. “Stop saying that! They’re not getting divorced, you stupid dogface!” Jaya toddled over, giggling curiously.
Niko shoved his little brother aside impatiently without hitting back, and Shae separated the boys to opposite sides of the sofa. “Ru, you shouldn’t use words like dogface,” she told him. Hilo came down the stairs, glanced briefly at the sullen scene, and said, “Turn off the TV, you should be getting dressed for school.” He strode for the door. Shae followed him.
A trusted driver took them downtown in the Duchesse. Hilo lit a cigarette and rolled down the back seat window.
Shae forced herself to break the thick silence that now seemed to descend every time she was alone with her brother. “The boys are worried about you and Wen.”
Hilo said, “Niko worries too much. Who’s ever met a kid like that?”
“It’s because he pays attention,” Shae said. The boy often seemed inattentive, lost in his own thoughts, but then he would say something that made it clear he overheard a great deal of what the adults discussed. “He knows you treat Wen differently now.”
“I treat her just fine,” Hilo snapped. “I’ve always taken care of her.”
Shae wanted to smack her brother. She and Hilo had hurt each other enough in their lives that she was well fortified against his anger, but that was not the case for her sister-in-law, who was one of the strongest-minded women she knew but who lived on Hilo’s love like oxygen. “If you have to keep blaming me, go ahead. But hasn’t Wen been through enough already? Everything she did, she did for you and the clan. Can’t you even bring yourself to tell her that you understand that?”
Hilo snorted as he ground his cigarette out violently in the car’s ashtray. “You’re the last person on earth qualified to give relationship advice, Shae. What about you and Woon?”
The sudden reversal caught Shae off guard as completely as the swift parry and reversal of a blade attack. “What about me and Woon?” she demanded, inwardly cringing at the defensiveness in her voice. “We’re colleagues and good friends.”
Hilo’s laugh was cruel. “And you think I’m the one not saying what needs to be said? Woon’s smart in other ways, but I don’t know why he tortures himself working for you. You should’ve told him how you really feel, or fired him already.”
Shae’s face grew hot. She forgot that she’d begun this conversation about Wen. “Not all of us spew our feelings out like shrapnel, Hilo,” she exclaimed. “Woon and I are professionals, and besides, he’s moving into another role next week.”
“And why do you think he needed to ask for that?” Hilo said. Before Shae could reply, the Duchesse pulled up at their destination. “Forget it. Just concentrate on not letting Ayt Mada and every other Pillar in the room see what a mess we are.” Hilo pushed open the door and got out of the car, leaving her fuming that he’d managed to get the last word. She forced out a noisy breath, then stepped out after him.
The Kekon Jade Alliance was headquartered in a three-story concrete block of an office building in the Financial District, within walking distance of the clan’s office tower on Ship Street to the east and the Temple of Divine Return two blocks to the west. Its blunt, heavy appearance radiated government bureaucracy and never failed to remind Shae that for all the cultural, economic, and spiritual significance of jade, its production and distribution required thousands of people doing mundane work in cubicles. At the security desk, she and Hilo surrendered their talon knives to two Green Bone guards wearing the flat cap and sash of the Haedo Shield clan. They took the elevator up to the top floor in silence. Shae could Perceive the hum of her brother’s aura deepening like a growl. He disliked KJA meetings under even the best of circumstances.
When they entered the boardroom, Ayt Madashi was already seated and talking to the Pillar of Six Hands Unity, the Mountain’s largest tributary clan. Ayt did not glance over at the arrival of her longtime enemies, but her distinctive dense jade aura swelled momentarily as Hilo and Shae walked to their usual seats. The boardroom’s massive circular table had assigned places and name plaques for each representative of the fifteen Green Bone clans that currently comprised the shareholder body of Kekon’s national jade cartel. The arrangement suggested that every Green Bone clan was equal in this room, that they all shared responsibility for safeguarding and managing the country’s jade supply. Nevertheless, the Mountain and No Peak, by far the two largest clans in the country, were positioned directly across from each other, with representatives of the minor clans seated closer or farther to one side or the other depending on their respective loyalties. Whoever had optimistically designed the room to promote a sense of egalitarian cooperation, Shae mused wryly, had underestimated the Kekonese propensity to signal status and allegiance at every opportunity. Four Deitist penitents in traditional long green robes stood silently against the walls, ensuring communication with Heaven and ensuring good behavior between the clans even in this most officious of conflict zones.