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The three of them walked back to the party, Rangi occasionally tugging on the back of Kyoshi’s robes to make sure she followed the requisite distance behind Zoryu. There was a completeness to their formation she appreciated.
She remembered Chancellor Dairin’s warning about the flowers. “Lord Zoryu,” she said. “Is the Keohso clan sigil the winged peony by any chance?”
“Yes, that’s the symbol of my mother’s family. Why do you ask?”
She told him about the stencils on the portrait of his father, the Saowon’s flower ascendant over the Keohso’s. Zoryu swore in a manner very unbecoming of a head of state and clawed the air like he wanted to strangle someone.
“Wonderful. Now the royal artists are disrespecting me,” he said. “Chaejin must have struck a deal with them. I’ll have to replace the painters and have the images covered before any Keohso hard-liners see it and go berserk. Chaejin’s other goal is to provoke someone in the Keohso clan into committing an inexcusable act of violence against a Saowon. Then he has the just cause for starting a conflict. History would say he was defending his honor.”
Zoryu sighed. “Clan rivalries have been major impediment to the progress of the Fire Nation since its inception. My mother’s side of the family despises the Saowon and would rather burn the country down than accept Chaejin as their ruler. Sometimes I wish I could abdicate, if it weren’t for the violence the Keohso would create in my wake.”
Kyoshi continued to be surprised by Zoryu’s frankness. He was less power hungry than some small-time mayors she’d met in the Earth Kingdom. “It’s a very Air Nomad idea,” she said. “Running away, following the path of negative jing. Maybe it’s a wise course.”
She heard the smack of Rangi’s hand colliding with her own forehead. “Spirits of the Islands, Kyoshi, you can’t just encourage the Fire Lord to abdicate!”
“Please don’t tell your mother I said that, Lieutenant,” Zoryu said, suddenly and genuinely worried. “She’d beat the idea out of me. I still break out in cold sweats when I think of her training programs.”
Kyoshi snickered. It had been a very long time since she’d connected to anyone her age. It was strange to think she could relax around a smuggling gang and the ruler of the Fire Nation, but nothing in between.
“We’re getting closer to the party,” Rangi lilted under her breath. “So, could I please ask the two most important people I will ever serve in my life to start acting appropriately?”
The Avatar and the Fire Lord straightened up, neither wanting to incur her wrath. Evening had settled and torches had been lit to cast a gentle glow over the festivities. The crowd was still dense, forming a grove of red silks over the pavilion. The only sound was the chirping of insects drifting over the warm air. A peaceful scene.
“Stop,” Kyoshi said. It was a daofei’s suspicion that made her come to a halt, but the feeling was strong. “Something’s off.”
“What is it?” Zoryu said. “I don’t hear anything.”
Rangi had noticed it too. “Exactly. It’s too quiet.” She slid in front of Kyoshi and Zoryu, the marching order of rank no longer as important as protecting her charges.
The conversations that filled the air earlier had completely died out. The nobles were standing still, silently watching them arrive. Zoryu had talked about a tipping point where he lost too many supporters and the clans turned against him. But there was no way it could have happened while they
were gone. Could it?
“Do you know what’s going on here?” she whispered to Zoryu. He shook his head.
Kyoshi advanced on her own for a better look. The men and women of the court were angry and confused, but most of all, they were utterly terrified. They stood at fearful attention, rigid like their lives depended on it. A crying waiter moved to wipe a tear but quickly caught himself, snapping his arms back to his side.
A sickening familiarity bloomed in the pit of Kyoshi’s stomach. She’d seen this kind of behavior once before, when the pirate queen of the Eastern Sea had plucked Earth Kingdom natives from their villages and forced them to do her bidding upon pain of death.
“What’s wrong with them?” Zoryu called over Rangi’s shoulder. “Why are they acting like that?”
“They’re hostages,” said a familiar voice. “How else are they supposed to act?”
Kyoshi felt her chest being squeezed by powerful, invisible jaws, sharp fangs threatening to pierce her through in every direction. He hadn’t spoken at the teahouse in Qinchao. Hearing him now, after so long, was an incantation that slowed her senses.
Up high, Yun sat on the edge of the Avatar’s dais, letting his feet dangle over the side. He was dressed for the occasion in fine robes of green and black, looking every bit like a secret prince out of Earth Kingdom fables, hidden until the moment of his glorious ascension. Except for his one hand. It was still stained a rotting gray, like a dead thing affixed to his body.
Yun beamed at her, the same easy smile she knew from her dreams and nightmares alike. “It’s good to see you again, Kyoshi.”
THE CRASH
For all her desperate wishing, Kyoshi had never considered what she would actually say to Yun once she found him. He had been like the peak of a mountain, visible when she closed her eyes, attainable so long as she ignored the impassable terrain in between them. Now that he was here, she was too afraid to speak. The wrong word could pierce the illusion and send him away.
“If you’re wondering what I’m doing here, I have a standing invitation to attend any and all Festivals of Szeto from my good friend the Fire Lord,” Yun said. He waved cheerfully at Zoryu, and then feigned disappointment at the bewildered silence he received in return. “Oh, come on, Zoryu. Don’t tell me the offer was rescinded simply because you thought I was dead?”
“Yun,” Rangi said. “Get down from there. Now.” She was both calm and stern, as if she’d caught him picking fruit from a tree he didn’t own. But at the same time, she also shifted more of her body in between him and the Fire Lord.
Yun noticed the motion and gave her an unreadable smile. “Hi to you too, Rangi.”
