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Over the frenzied screams of the daofei, Xu raised his arms to greet the morning light. “I say there’s a price to be paid! A debt that is owed! And collection starts today!”
Kyoshi’s head swam. They’d been duped. Distracted by small matters when the real danger that threatened the kingdom loomed within reach. She was so stupid.
“Now!” Xu said with theatrical casualness. “Where are my colors? I feel terribly naked without them.”
Mok hurried over and handed him a piece of fabric. In unison, the daofei reached into pockets and satchels or lifted their shirts to reveal lengths of cloth tied around their waists. They freed the wrappings from wherever they’d hid them and fastened them around their necks.
The sun rose fully, letting Kyoshi see the hues that adorned the bodies of every outlaw present. The moon peach blossoms had been a ruse, a cover story to avoid detection. The Autumn Bloom was a temporary name for an old organization. A behemoth had risen from the depths of the earth to feed once more.
“Much better,” Xu said as he patted the bright yellow scarf knotted around his neck. “I was getting a bit chilly there.”
THE CHALLENGE
“We have to do something!” Rangi said. “This is our fault!”
“It might be our fault, but it’s definitely not our problem,” Kirima muttered as she hastily packed her portion of their camp. “It’s not our problem.” She repeated it like a mantra that might keep them safe from harm.
“I don’t understand,” Lek said. “Who is this Xu Ping An guy? Who are the Yellow Necks? I thought we were dealing with the Autumn Bloom.”
“The Yellow Necks are business that we don’t want any part of,” Wong said. He rolled up the sleeping blankets with tight, nervous hand motions. “They’re not in this life for money or freedom. They take glee in pillage and destruction. They’re wanton killers. And Xu Ping An is their brains, heart, and soul.”
“He was a bloodthirsty madman before he spent the last eight years locked up and dreaming about revenge,” Kirima said. “We heard the stories. He used to call himself the General of Pandimu and claimed its residents were beholden to him for the protection he provided.”
Lek scratched his head. “Where’s Pandimu?”
“Nowhere!” Kirima said. “It’s the name for the world he made up himself! My point is he’s unhinged!”
Earlier, as they’d mumbled excuses about needing to leave the company of the Yellow Necks, Xu had seemed easygoing, without Mok’s pettiness or Wai’s outbursts of violence. He’d assured them that though he wished to throw a feast in their honor, a little show of appreciation, anything really, they were free to go with all debts to the Autumn Bloom and Yellow Necks repaid.
Kyoshi knew that veneer of civility meant nothing. Men like Xu simply waited for the right moment to drop it and reveal the beast behind the curtain.
“I don’t know how he’s alive,” Rangi said. She paced in circles around the remnants of the campfire. “I’ve read copies of reports sent to the Earth King by Jianzhu himself. Xu was listed among the dead at the Battle of Zhulu Pass. This doesn’t make sense!”
Kirima kept her argument directed at Kyoshi. “Look, they’re—what?—a couple hundred strong now, at the most? Fewer, since the Kang Shen decided to dine on rocks? They’re not an army like they were in the past. We can simply wait until the governors summon a militia force to deal with them. I bet Te is the one who rides out to meet him.”
Governor Te was currently riding at the head of a one-man column in nothing but his pajamas. It wasn’t clear whether Kirima and the others knew how old he was. But he could be a hundred, and he still wouldn’t know how to deal with a man who’d given Jianzhu fits.
“That sounds perfect to me,” Lek said. His face was unrecognizably dark. “The more dead lawmen, the better.” He left the camp to get Pengpeng ready for departure, satisfied with his contribution to the debate.
“Xu first started out with smaller numbers than he has now,” Rangi said. “If more Yellow Necks come out of hiding and rally to his banner, we’re back to the dark days after Kuruk died.”
“We’re not back to anything!” Kirima shouted. “Xu is the abiders’ problem! As far as we’re concerned, he’s a finished job! You don’t go back to a job you’ve already finished!”
“Years ago, I passed through a town caught in the wake of the Yellow Necks,” Lao Ge said, reminiscing calmly like it had been a mediocre vacation he’d once taken. “I saw what happened to the residents. They’d been . . .” He twisted his mouth, trying to decide what word to use before settling on one. “Stacked,” he said. He made a layering motion with his hands, alternating one on top of the other.
Kirima still wasn’t swayed. “We run away from trouble,” she said. “Not toward it. That’s our policy. It served us well in Chameleon Bay, it helped us survive in Hujiang, and it’ll pay off here.”
“What do you think we should do, Kyoshi?” Lao Ge said. “Given your newfound taste for making decisions of life and death?”
His question was dripping with petulance. But the rest of the gang didn’t know about the botched assassination. They were still thinking of her command to preserve the lives of Te’s household while pulling off the raid. No one had argued against her back then.
It didn?
?t seem like they would now either. The group fell silent as they waited on Kyoshi’s response, offering her the chance to tilt the scales conclusively.
Her head swam. A single moon ago, she was the weak link, not the shot caller. The others were putting too much stock in her being the Avatar. Conflating bending versatility with leadership. She’d grown more capable in the days since Hujiang, but not wiser.
Kyoshi fell back on the one philosophy she was well-versed in as an Earthbender. Neutral jing. “We wait and see what happens,” she said. “But we can wait from a higher elevation. Load up Pengpeng.”
