The marriage of Kaul Shaelinsan, Weather Man of No Peak and granddaughter of the Torch of Kekon, ought to have been an enormous clan pageant held in the Temple of Divine Return and celebrated with a grand banquet in the General Star Hotel. Instead, it was going to be a relatively modest family affair held on the Kaul estate. Both bride and groom had agreed to marry quickly and with restraint, out of respect for Kiya’s family, who were only of moderate status in the clan, but nevertheless deserved not to have their humiliation publicized.
Children were easier to have difficult conversations with. Niko loved fried bread, so Hilo took him to the Hot Hut chain’s new location in the Docks, even though he knew Wen would say it wasn’t a healthy breakfast for a child. They sat on a bench looking out across the water and eating the piping hot sticks fresh from the fryer. Niko threw crumbs into the water for the birds. The morning sun was burning away some of the pervasive moisture hanging in the air. Food, souvenir, and tour package vendors were setting up to take advantage of the guests soon to disembark the commercial cruise ships that had arrived and moored overnight.
None of the vessels had arrived via the Uwiwa Islands; the trade embargo made certain of that.
The clan was in a better position than it had been last year. The Mountain had retreated from its efforts to turn No Peak’s Lantern Men, whose confidence had been renewed by the Kauls’ successes. The conflict in Lukang was not resolved, but the situation had stabilized enough that Juen had pulled several of his senior Fists such as Iyn and Lott back to Janloon, leaving enough warriors to support the breakaway faction of Six Hands Unity. For the time being, the clans had battled each other to another draw—but Hilo was not as enraged by this as he once would’ve been. He’d long hoped to destroy the Mountain with some swift and fatal blow, even if it cost him his own life, but now he accepted that victory would take much longer to achieve. He needed to stay alive and outlast his enemies.
To wash down the fried bread, Hilo bought two cups of hot sweetened milk from one of the nearby stands and blew on one of them, cooling it down for Niko before giving it to him. Although he was excited by the special treatment and Hilo’s undivided attention, the boy knew there must be some reason for it, and he was even quieter than usual, eating with concentration and glancing at his uncle frequently.
“Are you looking forward to Boat Day?” Hilo asked.
“I guess so,” Niko said. He was a strange child, in Hilo’s opinion—not easily upset, but rarely eager or expressive, either. Watchful and intelligent, ahead of his class in school, but with too much of Lan’s melancholy, Hilo thought.
“On Boat Day, we’ll come back here and watch the ship sinking. We’ll get the sweet roasted nuts you like, and watermelon soda, and you can stay up as late as you want.”
Niko brightened at this. “Can Uncle Anden come too?”
“Of course, if he’s not busy.” Without changing his easy and affectionate tone, Hilo said, “Niko-se, I heard the Juen boys were saying some things the other day that made you upset. Do you want to tell me about what happened?”
Niko’s smile faded and he scuffed the ground beneath the bench with the tips of his shoes. Hilo continued speaking gently. “You might hear other kids talk about our family. They might even say things that seem mean or untrue. That’s only to be expected because of our position in the clan. When you hear anything that you’re not sure of, you shouldn’t assume things or react right away. Just come to me or your ma. Your aunt Shae and your uncle Anden might try to protect your feelings, only because they love you, and your uncle Tar, he likes to tell big stories, sometimes too big. But I’ll always tell you the truth.”
Niko blurted, “They thought I was stupid for saying my ma—not Ma, but the first mother I used to have—died in a fire.”
“You’re not stupid,” Hilo reassured him. “It’s only that people are always quick to talk about someone else’s tragedy behind their back. We didn’t tell you much about what happened to your mother because you were too little to understand and it might’ve frightened or upset you. But you’re old enough now and should hear it.”
Hilo took a moment to finish his piece of fried bread and gather his thoughts. “Your da, my older brother, he was a good person, a powerful Green Bone, but too softhearted sometimes. I didn’t use to understand it, but now that I’m older, I think I understand it more. After he became Pillar, his wife left him for another man, a foreigner, and they ran away together to another country far away.”