CHAPTER
47
Heaven is Listening
Shae arrived early at the temple the next evening. She walked silently into the sanctum and knelt on a cushion in the back corner. The Deitist house of worship held a different quality for her now than it had when she’d come here a few months ago. Jade made it different. That other time felt like a distant half-waking dream for so many reasons. Now it was clear to her that what felt like stillness and silence to the ordinary person was in reality a constant, crooning musical hum of energy, filling the sanctum, radiating into the marrow of one’s bones. The six cross-legged penitents, in perfect stillness, radiated powerful auras that filled her Perception as completely as if she were staring into a floodlight that blotted out the center of her vision, leaving only the dim periphery untouched. As blinding as they were, the auras of the penitents were calm, as if they were harmonized in the same deep dream-filled sleep, their breathing as gentle as the wind rustling the prayer cards and leaves of the devotional trees in the courtyard.
The last time Shae had knelt in doubt and indecision and prayed in the temple, she had not truly believed that she would be unequivocally answered by forces beyond her control. Bathed in the energetic resonance surrounding her now, Shae shivered inwardly, for she no longer doubted that this was a holy place, a place where the gods might be paying attention.
That did not mean it was a kind place; indeed, it was more dangerous than any other. Anything said or even contemplated in here would be heard by the
penitents, might reach the ears of Heaven. Shae touched her head to the ground three times. She whispered, “Yatto, Father of All, I beg you recognize my brother, Kaul Lanshinwan, gone from this earth to await the Return. He was a follower of Jenshu, whom we call Old Uncle, and though he might not have come to this temple much, he had humility, compassion, courage, and goodness—more of the Divine Virtues than any Green Bone I know.” Shae closed her eyes and fell silent. She would have said more, she would’ve pleaded consideration for her grandfather, and for Hilo, and even for Doru, but she couldn’t afford the time for contemplation and mourning, not tonight.
She was here to learn what information she could from a deadly enemy. She needed to be clear in mind and prepared in body.
Ayt Mada’s entrance into the sanctum interposed on the edges of Shae’s Perception like a spear of red heat parting the slow energetic thrum of the temple, a harsh chord sounding over a low melody. Shae waited, focusing on her own composure, not betraying her unease. Ayt did not pause or look around the sanctum. She went straight to Shae and knelt on the cushion beside her. Ayt did not look at the other woman, nor did she touch her head to the ground as was religious custom.
“You should know,” she said, “that I did not order the death of Kaul Lan.”
Everything about Ayt Mada—her speech, her movements, and her aura— bespoke directness and control. During the time Shae had been in her presence in Wisdom Hall, she’d gathered that, beyond jade ability and training, it was constant unsentimental decisiveness that enabled Ayt to overcome all the male rivals in her clan. Even her pauses always seemed deliberate, never a symptom of hesitation or uncertainty. She let one of them rest between herself and Shae before speaking again. “I had no reason to want your eldest brother dead. He was a reasonable man. Overshadowed by his grandfather, perhaps, but nevertheless an intelligent and respected leader.
Sooner or later he would come to the proper conclusion, I was confident of that. We would’ve negotiated an agreement between our clans and avoided all this unpleasantness.”
Shae found it hard to speak from fury that made her vision waver. “My brother lies cold in the ground. You expect me to believe you didn’t put him there?”
“Any Green Bone in the Mountain would’ve been proud to win Kaul Lan’s jade. No one has claimed that accomplishment. Doesn’t that strike you
as odd?”
“The taxi driver that picked him up from the Lilac Divine said they were followed by men in a black car. Someone knew his habits and was waiting for him that night. Several people on the street heard gunfire down by the pier, and there were countless bullet holes near the place his body was found.
Two unregistered, damaged Fullerton machine guns were found on the dock —hardly the sort of weapon carried by common criminals in No Peak territory. The men who killed him were working for the Mountain. You lie if you deny it.” She was grateful, and mildly amazed, that she was able to state all this with the matter-of-fact self-possession of a true Weather Man. “The Pillar is the master of the clan, the spine of the body, without which nothing moves. Unless you mean to convince me that those men were acting against your orders, how can you sit here and say you didn’t kill him?”
“You’re correct, Kaul-jen,” Ayt said, surprising Shae with formal address.
“I’m responsible for his death—but I didn’t whisper his name. I wanted to send a message deep into No Peak, to impress upon Kaul Lanshinwan the realization that going to war with the Mountain would be unwise and ultimately futile. In doing so, I hoped to avoid the war, or at least shorten it.
Things didn’t go as I intended.”
“Because it was Hilo you always meant to kill.”
“Yes.”
For a second, Shae allowed herself to contemplate with morbid curiosity the idea of an entirely different unfolding of tragedy. Had the initial assassination attempt succeeded, Hilo’s death would’ve been a terrible blow to Lan, but Ayt was not unreasonable in suspecting that the Pillar’s sense of pragmatism and responsibility would’ve ultimately won out over the desire for vengeance. Without a strong Horn to rely on, Lan most likely would’ve acceded to terms of peace rather than risk the entire clan in a disadvantaged war.
Shae brought her attention back to the moment at hand. Possibilities that lay in the past were illusions, closed doors, as meaningless as unfulfilled intentions. “You asked to meet with me,” she reminded Ayt. “It wasn’t merely to try and convince me that you only wanted to kill one of my brothers instead of both.”
Ayt said sharply, “This war is pointless and destructive to both our clans.
The audit of the KJA was childish and unnecessary; it invited the Royal
Council and the press to come snooping into Green Bone matters. Is that something we really need when we can solve these issues quietly between us? The politicians have gotten it into their heads to try and pass some bureaucratic legislation, or form some oversight body—for what ultimate benefit? We may even attract international attention, and the last thing the country needs is more self-serving foreigners meddling in our affairs.”
“You brought it on yourself,” Shae replied. “The Mountain has been blatantly breaking the rules of the Kekon Jade Alliance. Doru has been covering for you.”
“Doru is a farsighted man, loyal to Kaul Sen and the ideals he stood for,”
Ayt said. “He realized that neither of the Torch’s grandsons could replace him and that an alliance was inevitable.” She turned to Shae with eyes that held the coldness that came from absence of doubt. “It is exactly that, Kaul- jen—inevitable.”
“An alliance?” Shae said. “Why not just call it what it is? Destroying your enemies. Complete power in the city and monopolistic control of the country’s jade.”
Ayt studied her with such cool consideration that Shae felt in that moment a flutter of fear, like a moth in her rib cage. Ayt was not much larger than her physically, but that meant next to nothing when it came to a contest of jade ability. This was a woman who’d killed before her father’s funeral and did not bow in a temple of the gods. Perhaps she would even strike in the presence of a penitent. If she wanted to kill Shae now, there was nothing to stop her. Shae forced a calming awareness into her body, deliberately noting the relaxed state of each muscle and joint. Ayt was so close she would Perceive fear with no effort, no matter how composed Shae’s face.
At last Ayt spoke, as if she were lecturing a stubborn student. “You’re an educated and traveled woman, not like those who’ve never left the country.
Consider what’s happening outside Kekon. Tension between Espenia and Ygutan grows day by day. The world is dividing into camps, and both sides covet the jade found only on this island. What kind of fortune did the Espenians spend to create SN1, so they could equip their elite soldiers with jade? The Ygutanians are playing catch-up, but they certainly want no less.
I’m told they’ve been researching how to make their soldiers more naturally resistant, more like us. The Shotarians did the same thing years ago—brought Kekonese and Abukei women to secret facilities to be raped and
impregnated, in an attempt to create a Shotarian army with natural jade resistance.
“We’re a small country with a precious resource. If we don’t take the right actions, we’ll find ourselves at the mercy of imperial powers again. The only way for us to resist the foreigners in the long run is to be united as one clan again.”
“United by conquest, you mean. First you had to weaken No Peak. You might have tried to negotiate an upfront alliance with Lan, but instead you colluded with Doru and supplied jade and tip-offs to gangsters within our territories.”
Ayt was unmoved by Shae’s anger. “It’s as you say. The Pillar is the master of the clan, the spine of the body. There can be only one spine. Kaul Lan was a proud man; he wouldn’t have willingly relinquished control of his clan, certainly not while he had the strength of his Horn behind him. And Gont Asch and Kaul Hilo couldn’t be in one clan any more than two cocks could share a henhouse. We had to establish supremacy in the streets before an honest and productive conversation could begin.”
“Where is the additional jade you’ve been taking from the mines?”
Ayt astonished Shae by answering at once. “We’re selling it to the Ygutanians. The contract is entirely secret, of course, because of Kekon’s public alliance with Espenia. But we know the Ygutanians are already acquiring jade through the black market. No matter what we do, how strictly we crack down, smuggling remains a problem. The potential profit for smugglers is so high they cannot be dissuaded even with death penalties. If we offer the Ygutanians a reliable supply, we’ll destroy the underground trade. There will be less crime on Kekon, and far more profit to the clan.
We’ll be supplier to both sides of the mounting conflict. We’ll ensure our security and protect our income no matter which foreigners prevail.”
“That’s why you’re also starting to produce shine.” Shae could not help but admire the simplicity of it now. “You can’t sell that quantity of jade to the Ygutanians without also promising them the shine to go with it.”
“Factories on the mainland, manufacturing SN1 quickly and cheaply. Not the sort of stuff we’d ever want here on the island, but good enough for the foreigners. The Ygutanians do not know the difference, and they have so many people, they treat them as expendable anyway.”
How much money was the Mountain already bringing in from its secret
contracts, Shae wondered. Siphoning jade from the national coffers, selling it to foreigners, trafficking in shine … it must be millions of dien. Hundreds of millions.
Ayt’s voice took on an edge of excitement. Shae sensed in the heavy texture of her aura a driven and deadly tenaciousness, like that of some purebred hunting animal that once set to quarry would rather run until it falls dead than give up the chase. She angled to face Shae directly now, and said, “If we introduce a reliable supply of cheap SN1 into the market, sales of jade go up and we profit. If we shut off the spigot, foreign governments will have to contend with jaded people going mad, unable to control their powers, dying of the Itches. With that kind of market power, we Green Bones will retain rightful control over jade—and we’ll have the wealth and means to protect the country, as we’ve always done.”
Shae was silent for a moment before answering. “It really is, Ayt-jen, a visionary and cunning strategy.” She meant it; Ayt was truly a higher-level Pillar, not satisfied with merely continuing her father’s legacy but intent on altering the path of the clan and the country as a whole. A formidable successor to the Spear of Kekon.
Under Ayt’s leadership, the Mountain clan would build an international empire of jade and drugs. It would eliminate or subsume its rivals until one clan ruled Kekon. The country would foment global tensions and profit by spreading the availability of jade and shine to millions of people beyond its borders, with Green Bones sitting at the apex of a burgeoning jade pyramid they controlled.
“I share with you all my plans in complete honesty,” Ayt said, “because I can see you’re an intelligent and ambitious woman. There are few enough of us in the world of Green Bones, the world of men. I know that you were the top graduate at the Academy and the favorite of Kaul Seningtun, and yet you were obscured by your brothers. You discovered the clan was an insular, constricting place. That’s how you came to work for the Espenian military, and afterward, why you left Kekon.”
Heat climbed up Shae’s chest and neck at Ayt’s presumptuous but essentially accurate description. How had Ayt learned these things? She was indignant yet strangely flattered that the Pillar of the Mountain had thought to dig into her past in an attempt to find the right leverage to use on her.
“I see some of my younger self in you, Kaul Shae-jen. If I had known you
would return to Kekon and wear jade again, I’d have approached you much earlier. Let the two of us resolve this feud. Your brother is a dangerous, foolish man-child driven by pride and bloodlust; he would fight to the last man on principle alone. It’s what he knows how to do.” Shae knew what was coming next. “Usurp him. End this senseless war. Ree Tura is near retirement, and I tire of him regardless. I would make you my Weather Man.
Weather Man of a great clan; Weather Man of Kekon itself.”
“You overestimate me, Ayt-jen,” Shae said, hearing something pitted and sour scrape in her voice. “I’ve been gone from Kekon for years and am still an outsider in my own clan. The Luckbringers and Lantern Men accept me grudgingly. All the Fists and Fingers of No Peak are loyal to my brother.”
“There’s no reason for them not to remain so. We can arrange things simply between us. Make it appear honorable. Kaul Hilo can fall in battle as the war hero he clearly wishes to be. There’d be no taint of treachery for you, no worry of vengeance from his followers. Afterward, you’d be acting with full legitimacy.”
Shae nodded. An ambush then, getting Hilo alone at a place and time of their choosing. This time the Mountain would see to it that the assassination plan was better, foolproof. How easily Ayt spoke of all this, as if necessary fratricide was no less difficult to arrange than any other business transaction.
Truly, she doesn’t fear the judgment of either men or gods. Shae’s stir of unbidden admiration tasted acidic in her throat. Ayt was a stronger woman than she.
Shae glanced in the direction of the penitents, who still sat unmoving, their auras unperturbed by the content of the conversation they might be exposing to Heaven itself. Is anyone listening? Perhaps, Shae thought with sudden heaviness, the penitents meditated in vain. Jade-enhanced senses and the power of Perception endowed Green Bones with so much more nuance and clarity about the world around them, but it didn’t, in the end, offer up any great truth, any proof of the gods or hope that people could ever be anything more than what they were. Was Old Uncle Jenshu paying attention now? Did he grieve what had become of the legacy of honorable warriors? The Return couldn’t be further away than Green Bones plotting murder in the sanctum of the temple.
Ayt had seen clearly Shae’s ambition and resentment, had seized upon her rivalry with Hilo as an opening. Shae understood what that said about her: If
the way to redemption was through the Divine Virtues, she was no closer to Heaven than the woman next to her. She turned to Ayt now. “You say you see your younger self in me,” she said. “I see in you the kind of Green Bone I don’t want to become. Jade meant something once. I’m not an oath breaker. I won’t betray the memory of a slain brother, and sell the life of another for power.” She stood up, wondering as she did so if she’d just sealed her own death. “I want no part of the Kekon you envision.”
Ayt remained sitting for a few seconds. Then she rose to her feet and faced the younger woman. Her expression was unchanged, but her aura swelled with unmistakably ominous intent, and despite herself, Shae took an involuntary step back.
“I despise it when my hand is forced,” the Pillar said, adjusting one of the coils of jade on her arm. “Ayt Yugontin brought me, a girl that should have died, out of a war orphanage and trained me to be the strongest Green Bone in the Mountain clan. Yet when he grew old, he couldn’t bring himself to name me his heir. He feared a backlash from the inner circle of men in the clan who would fault him for naming a woman his successor. The Spear of Kekon, who was never afraid to die fighting the Shotarians—he was afraid to name an adopted daughter to rule his precious clan.
“The man I call my father, the one to whom I owe everything—he forced my hand. Before his body was cold, I had to kill his closest comrades—Green Bones I valued and respected—for the position that should have been mine without question. With his dying breath my father could have prevented bloodshed, but he didn’t. Such is the cowardice and shortsightedness of even the most well-meaning of men.”
The expression of disappointment on Ayt’s face held a frightening calm as she said to Shae, “I’ve offered you an opportunity that you’ve spurned. Don’t worry, you naive and idealistic girl, I won’t kill you now. I want you to remember, when you see your brother’s jade torn from his mangled body, when your clan lies in ashes, that you could have prevented it but didn’t. You forced my hand. You’ll remember.”
Ayt turned and swept from the sanctum, the wake of her passing stirring the holy room like a hot wind carrying the promise of drought and punishing devastation. Then she was gone, and the temple was once again harmonious.
The penitents sitting in the circle had not stirred. Alone now, the strain broke through Shae’s control. Her heart began racing and sweat beaded on her face.
She sank back down onto the cushion.
Heaven help us. My clan, all Green Bones, all of Kekon.