Hilo scowled over sourly at Fuyin’s sprawled body without returning his brother-in-law’s grin. “Take his jade for the clan,” he said. “I don’t feel like wearing it, not when I know his son died for No Peak while I was Horn.” He started for the door.
Shae blocked his path, her jade aura rasping against his with displeasure. “You’re going to walk out of here without saying anything else?” she demanded.
Hilo’s nostrils flared at the tone of her voice. “What else do you want me to say? You told me we had to have this meeting to sort things out with those grumbling Lantern Men. They’re not grumbling anymore, are they?”
“Don’t you think we should’ve talked beforehand if you were planning to execute Fuyin in front of everyone? Why didn’t you tell me you had proof that he turned to the Mountain?”
“Because I didn’t,” he snapped. “I had a feeling. When I saw his reaction, then I knew for sure. He already had a grudge, so it’s no wonder Ayt got to him. He was determined to die and bring me to the grave with him.” Despite knowing this, Hilo could not help but take the treason of a former Fist personally. Fuyin’s accusations rattled in his head and he wanted to get out of the room, away from the man’s body.
He began to push past Shae, but she moved into his path again. “This isn’t good, Hilo,” she insisted. “Executing a traitor might keep people in line for a while, but it doesn’t solve the problems that made those Lantern Men turn against us in the first place. We haven’t been talking about the issues the way a Pillar and Weather Man ought to.”
Hilo bared his teeth as he leaned over his sister. “You want to talk to me as Weather Man? Then do the Weather Man’s job. Tell me how the fuck the Mountain is outspending us and stealing our businesses with tribute rates that we know are unsustainable. Tell me how we stop them and win. If you can’t tell me that, then spare me your godsdamned lectures.”
Shae opened her mouth to retort, then shut it again so hard he heard the snap of her back teeth coming together. She glowered at him, face flushed with aggravation. Woon, who’d been hovering nearby, put a hand on the Weather Man’s shoulder and drew her back as Hilo finally barged out of the room.
Juen was still in conversation with an anxious Mr. Une, so Hilo was spared any of the aging restaurateur’s hand-wringing or brow mopping. Some of the usual lunch crowd at the Twice Lucky had cleared out during the brief spate of violence, perhaps worried it might spill out into the rest of the restaurant, or spooked by last week’s attack by anarchists at the Double Double casino. Others, however, were loitering nearby. At Hilo’s appearance, they muttered respectfully, touching their foreheads and trying to get a glimpse past him into the room with the body, craning their necks with the sort of morbid curiosity afforded to spectacular automobile crashes and burning buildings. By evening, word would be out all over Janloon that Fuyin Kan was dead, a traitor to his clan.
Hilo went out the front doors and got into the driver’s seat of the Duchesse Signa. He had his own parking spot at the Twice Lucky, guarded every time he dined there. Tar followed him out and tapped the passenger-side window, leaning his arms through when Hilo rolled down the glass. “Where are you going?” the Pillarman asked, with a grumpiness that might’ve been protective concern or merely displeasure at being left behind.
“I’m going to take a drive, to clear my head,” Hilo said, putting the key in the ignition. “Just help Juen and Iyn clean things up here.” There were times Hilo would hesitate to leave Maik Tar and Iyn Ro together in handling clan matters, on account of their wildly hot and cold relationship, but they were getting along right now. “And get ready for your trip to Port Massy. It’s going to be cold over there; bring warm clothes. You got everything else you need? Tickets, passport, and everything?”
“Yeah, sure,” his brother-in-law said.
“I’ll be back home in a couple hours.” He left Tar in the parking lot, looking vaguely forlorn in the rearview mirror as he watched the Duchesse drive away.
_______
Hilo drove for half an hour in no particular direction, blasting the heater in defiance of the icy air pressing down on the city like a cold towel against the skin. The streets were uncommonly subdued, Janloon’s bright colors washed out by a gray and sunless sky. People were excited that snow was falling in the mountains.
He found himself, without any real thought, driving into the Docks and pulling up in front of the Lilac Divine Gentleman’s Club. A lot of things had changed in Janloon over the years, but the Lilac Divine was not one of them. It was, Hilo mused wryly, a reliable business unthreatened by modern times or foreign competition. A valet took his car, and as soon as he stepped through the door, Mrs. Sugo, the Lantern Man proprietor, greeted him with a smile that struck Hilo as patently false. She never showed him any discourtesy of course, and she always made certain his visits were exactly as he asked for, but she was decidedly unenthusiastic about the Pillar’s irregular and unannounced appearances.