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“Stop the ships!” Yun screamed into the sky. “Not me! The ships!” That was all he could get out before Tagaka covered his head completely in ice.
Kyoshi didn’t know whom he was talking to at first, thought that in his desperation he was pleading with a spirit. But a low rush of air reminded her that someone was still free. Kelsang pulled up on his glider and beelined toward the flagship.
“Not today, monk,” Tagaka said. She lashed out with her arms, and a spray of icicles no bigger than sewing needles shot toward Kelsang.
It was a fiendishly brilliant attack. The Airbender could have easily dodged larger missiles, but Tagaka’s projectiles were an enveloping storm. The delicate wings of his glider disintegrated, and he plunged toward the sea.
There was no time to panic for Kelsang. Tagaka levitated the chunk of ice Yun was buried in, threw it over the side of the iceberg toward her camp, and leaped down after him.
Kyoshi grit her teeth and pushed on the ice as hard as she could. Her shoulders strained against her robes, both threatening to tear. The ice gripping her legs cracked and gave way, but not before shredding the parts of her skin not covered by her skirts. She lifted herself free and stumbled after Tagaka.
She was lucky Yun’s prison had carved out a smooth path. Without it, she would have undoubtedly bashed her skull in, tumbling over the rough protrusions of ice. Kyoshi managed to slide down to the pirate camp, her wounds leaving a bloody trail on the slope behind her.
Tagaka’s men were busy loading their camp and themselves into longboats. An elegant cutter, one of the Water Tribe heirlooms she’d mentioned, waited for them off the coast of the iceberg. Only a few of the other pirates noticed Kyoshi. They started to pick up weapons, but Tagaka waved them off. Packing up was more of a priority than dealing with her.
“Give him back,” Kyoshi gasped.
Tagaka put a boot on the ice encasing Yun and leaned on her knee. “The colossus speaks,” she said, smiling.
“Give him back. Now.” She meant to sound angry and desperate, but instead she came across as pitiful and hopeless as she felt inside. She wasn’t sure if Yun could breathe in there.
“Eh,” Tagaka said. “I saw what I needed to see in the boy’s eyes. He’s worth more as a hostage than an Avatar, trust me.” She shoved Yun off to the side with her foot, and the bile surged in Kyoshi’s throat at the disrespectful gesture.
“But you, on the other hand,” Tagaka said. “You’re a puzzle. I know you’re not a fighter right now, that much is obvious. But I like your potential. I can’t decide whether I should kill you now, to be safe, or take you with me.”
She took a step closer. “Kyoshi, was it? How would you like a taste of true freedom? To go where you want and take what you’re owed? Trust me, it’s a better life than whatever dirt-scratch existence you have on land.”
Kyoshi knew her answer. It was the same one she would have given as a starving seven-year-old child.
“I would never become a daofei,” Kyoshi said, trying as hard as possible to turn the word into a curse. “Pretending to be a leader and an important person when you’re nothing but a murderous slaver. You’re the lowest form of life I know.”
Tagaka frowned and drew her sword. The metal hissed against the scabbard. She wanted Kyoshi to feel cold death sliding between her ribs, instead of being snuffed out quickly by water.
Kyoshi stood her ground. “Give me the Avatar,” she repeated. “Or I will put you down like the beast you are.”
Tagaka spread her arms wide, telling her to look around them at the field of ice they were standing on. “With what, little girl from the Earth Kingdom?” she asked. “With what?”
It was a good question. One that Kyoshi knew she couldn’t have answered herself. But she was suddenly gripped with the overwhelming sensation that right now, in her time of desperate need, her voice wouldn’t be alone.
Her hands felt guided. She didn’t fully understand, nor was she completely in control. But she trusted.
Kyoshi braced her stomach, filled her lungs, and slammed her feet into the Crowding Bridge stance. Echoes of power rippled from her movement, hundredfold iterations of herself stamping on the ice. She was somehow both leading and being led by an army of benders.
A column of gray-stone seafloor exploded up from the surface of the ocean. It caught the hull of Tagaka’s cutter and listed the ship to the side, tearing wooden planks off the frame as easily as paper off a kite.
A wave of displaced water swept over the iceberg, knocking pirates off their feet and smashing crates to splinters. Out of self-preservation, Tagaka reflexively raised a waist-high wall of ice, damming and diverting the surge. But the barrier protected Kyoshi as well, giving her time to attack again. She leaped straight into the air and landed with her fists on the ice.
Farther out, the sea boiled. Screams came from the lead warships as more crags of basalt rose in their path. The bowsprits of the vessels that couldn’t turn in time snapped like twigs. The groan of timber shattering against rock filled the air, as hideous as a chorus of wounded animals.
Kyoshi dropped to her knees, panting and heaving. She’d meant to keep going, to bring the earth close enough to defend herself, but the effort had immediately sapped her to the point where she could barely raise her head.
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Tagaka turned around. Her face, so controlled over the past two days, spasmed in every direction.
“What in the name of the spirits?” she whispered as she flipped her jian over for a downward stab. The speed at which Tagaka moved to kill her made it clear that she’d be fine living without an answer.
“Kyoshi! Stay low!”
