The late-afternoon shadows thickened and the crowd thinned and still Anden waited. He got up to get another soda from the beverage table and was aware of all the shoulders and chins that turned, all the interested and unkind eyes that followed him. Most of the upper echelon of No Peak was here. They knew who Anden was and what he had done last year: helped to save the clan from destruction, then on the day of his graduation, refused to wear jade and been publicly disowned by the Pillar.
With a jolt, he recognized a few of his classmates from the Academy—Lott, Heike, and Ton—standing together near their families. They were speaking to each other and casting glances in his direction. An echo of old feeling, numb with disuse, stirred in Anden’s chest. Lott Jin was leaning casually against a table. He had not lost his slouchy, restlessly idle manner, but he appeared to have been working out over the past year; his shoulders were broader, filling out his gray suit jacket, and he’d cut his hair so that it no longer hung in front of his hooded eyes.
Anden averted his gaze, heat climbing into his face. There were times now, after living in Marenia for over a year, that he enjoyed his day-to-day life and could push away the memory of his disgrace. Being back in Janloon, in this house and among the clan again, dragged him back to the days and weeks after his exile and reminded him of everything he’d given up.
Anden returned to his seat on the bench by the tree. To his horror, Ton crossed the courtyard. Lott and Heike stayed behind, watching but not approaching. “Anden,” Ton said, touching his forehead in informal greeting. He cleared his throat. “It’s been a while. I’m glad to see you looking well.”
Anden reluctantly raised his eyes to his former classmate’s face. “It’s good to see you, Ton-jen,” he said. Ton nodded and fiddled with the two jade rings on his left hand in nervous habit. He was a Finger in the clan now, answering to the Horn and his Fists, patrolling and defending No Peak territory, maintaining the clan’s tenuous advantage over the Mountain. Ton looked as if he was fishing for something else to say to break the awkwardness, but Maik Tar appeared and bent to speak quietly to Anden. “He’s ready to see you.”
Anden got up, set his empty soda bottle on the bench, and followed the Pillarman into the house. At the entrance to the study, he paused, wanting another second to prepare himself, but Tar pushed the door open and Anden had no choice but to step inside. Tar closed the door behind him, shutting out the background sounds of the people still mingling outside.
The Pillar was sitting in the largest of the leather armchairs. Kaul Hilo seemed both the same and different from the last time Anden had seen him. He still possessed a youthful appearance, still exuded the casually insolent charisma that Anden had seen manifest as generous warmth with his friends and fearsome menace with his enemies. But the mantle of Pillar left no man unchanged; there was a stiffness to Hilo’s eyes and mouth now, a grimmer, more controlled aspect to his manner that Anden had seen little evidence of before.
Anden looked for Shae, but she was not in the room. She was the only member of the clan that Anden had been in regular contact with over the past year. He’d hoped that she would be here. Anden swallowed. He brought his clasped hands up to his forehead and tilted into a formal salute. “Kaul-jen,” he said. “I’m sorry for the loss of your grandfather.”
There was a time not long ago when Hilo would’ve risen and embraced his cousin warmly, kissed him on the cheek, and smiling, led him to the nearest chair. “Andy,” Hilo would’ve scolded, “don’t act like that; take the pole out of your ass and come sit down.”
The Pillar did not do that. He remained seated and said, with cool remonstration, “He was your grandfather too, Andy, in every way but blood. He brought you into this family.”
“I haven’t forgotten that,” Anden said quietly.
“Haven’t you?” Hilo sat forward and picked up the package of Espenian-branded cigarettes lying on the coffee table. He tapped one out for himself and put it in his mouth, then to Anden’s surprise, held the box out to his cousin. Anden sat down and took a cigarette without meeting the Pillar’s eye. Hilo lit his smoke, slid the lighter across the table to Anden, then leaned back in his chair again. “What have you been doing with yourself, Andy?” His voice was soft and reproachful. “Shae tells me you’re living in Marenia. A nineteen-year-old man trained as a Green Bone, living in a village with jadeless fishermen and seniors.”
Anden hid the flush of his face by looking down as he lit his cigarette. “I have a job there,” he answered. “It’s steady work and I can support myself. In another month, I’ll have saved up enough money to rent my own place so I won’t be a burden on your ma anymore.”
Hilo’s eyes blazed with sudden ire. “And what about the guards set to watch over you? Will your salary from working in the furniture shop cover the expense of them as well?”
Anden flinched at Hilo’s tone. “Kaul-jen, the clan shouldn’t make any special allowance for me. You need every Green Bone you have in the war against the Mountain. No one’s come after me in Marenia, and if they do, it’s only right that I bear that risk myself.”
“Don’t be stupid,” Hilo said. “You killed Gont Asch; you turned the war last year. You think Ayt Mada will ever forget that?” Hilo sat forward again. “She knows you could become one of the most powerful Green Bones in the country.”
Anden muttered, “Not if I never wear jade again. It would be against aisho to—”
“Ayt will find a way around aisho if she wants to. She doesn’t need to send Green Bones with moon blades against one jadeless man in a fishing village. She hasn’t whispered your name because there’s no gain in it for her right now. Who knows, maybe she thinks that if she waits awhile, she can turn you.”
Anden’s head shot up. “I would never turn to the Mountain, not if my life depended on it. I may not be a Green Bone, but I wouldn’t betray the clan to our enemies.”
“Did you say that to the man who approached you last month?”
Anden did not reply, but the hand that held the cigarette shook a little. A stranger, a bald man, had come up to him in the supermarket and said, with a confidential smile, “I admire what you did, refusing to put on jade and become one of those Green Bone killers. You’re obviously a young man with integrity. Even in this small town, people know who you are. If you ever need help finding a job or a place to stay, or could use a favor from a friend, you should feel free to call me.” The man had handed Anden a business card with a phone number.
“Shae looked into it. He has ties to the Mountain,” Hilo said. “They’re being patient, but sometime soon, they’ll make sure you have some unexpected trouble, and maybe you’ll call the number on the card. And if you don’t, you’ll have some worse trouble down the line.”
Anden took a quick drag on his cigarette and ground it out. He saw now why he’d been asked here at last: The Pillar might not have forgiven him, but neither did he want a member of his family, disowned or not, to be left vulnerable and potentially manipulated by the enemy.
“Andy,” Hilo said, and though his voice was still hard, there was a pained edge to it that made Anden finally meet his cousin’s eyes. The Pillar’s mouth twisted as he ground out his own cigarette. “You’re my brother; if you’d come to your senses, if you’d asked to return at any time this past year, if you’d spoken to me and admitted you made a mistake—the way I admitted I was at fault too—I would’ve forgiven you at once. I’d have welcomed you back; how could I not? But you never did that. You stayed away from the family and wasted a year of your life.”