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“Let’s go inside, Yun,” she said. “We’ll talk.”
He scrunched his nose. “That would have been nice, but I’m afraid I’ve already committed to a different line of play.” He pointed to a lady in a voluminous pink gown near the dais who shuddered at his attention. “Madam, give a curtsy to my friends, will you?”
The woman sniffled and lifted the hem of her skirts. Underneath, her feet had sunk into the ground, the earth swallowing her up to the ankles. Kyoshi whipped around, looking at the other guests. Their long formal robes hid their feet from sight, but there were inches of bunched-up cloth puddled around every single one of them. The entire party had stepped into quicksand under the control of her friend’s earthbending.
“You have to hand it to Fire Nation folk,” Yun said to Kyoshi. “I threatened them once and explained that if they moved or made any noise, I’d make them regret it. And you know what? They were smart enough to comply! I didn’t have to make any examples out of them! Don’t you just love the discipline of these people?”
His expression darkened. “Earth Kingdom citizens would have blustered and yelled, ‘How dare you! Don’t you know who I am?’ I swear, Kyoshi, our countrymen can be so annoying sometimes. I would have just . . .”
He squeezed his hands, making a snapping, twisting motion. It was a gesture of frustration similar to the one Zoryu had playacted earlier, only this time Yun had a whole garden full of people in his grasp. The woman in pink screamed as she sank farther into the ground, up to her waist.
How could he do this? Holding people hostage was a line Kyoshi thought she and Yun shared, a distinction between them and their foes. Tagaka’s slaving raid had been what provoked Yun to confront her.
“Kyoshi!” Rangi shouted.
They’d been through enough together for Kyoshi to know exactly what Rangi was trying to communicate. Do something. Unfreeze. Now is your chance.
Take him down.
But her body wouldn’t move with the same certainty as Rangi’s. Kyoshi had to fight her paralysis simply to get her fans out. While she fumbled with her weapons, Yun leaped over her head to the ground and slipped into the frozen crowd.
Kyoshi ran after him, cursing herself for such a clumsy, terrible draw. Wong would have disowned her from his operatic lineage had he witnessed it. She moved through the forest of people and felt the weight of their stares on her, some pleading with her to save them, many furiously accusing her of bringing this misery and humiliation to their door.
“So, Kyoshi—”
She spun around, swinging her closed fan in a backhand strike. Yun evaded the blow by leaning back, using a nearby Fire Nation minister as cover the way a swordsman fighting a duel in a bamboo grove might use the plants as a check on his opponent’s blade. Kyoshi barely halted her motion in time before she cracked the poor man across the mouth.
Yun glanced at her fan and then her, his eyes wide, his posture still angled. “Well, this is a first for our friendship,” he said. “You just tried to hurt me.”
She ignored the burning sting in her cheeks and thrust her weapon at his chin, but he swayed effortlessly to avoid it. She knew he’d received unarmed combat training, from Rangi herself perhaps, and it showed in his decisive movements.
She aimed a series of alternating stabs at his head and body. “Really?” he said, dancing with her like he’d been born a non-bending fighter. “After I dealt with Jianzhu for you, this is the thanks I get?”
The tips of her fans wavered. Yun had earthbent a rock through Jianzhu’s chest, but it was Kyoshi who’d held him in place.
“Remember the look on his face as he died?” Yun grinned as if he were reminiscing over fire lilies instead of the time the two of them killed a man together. “Oh, I’d bottle it if I could.”
In Qinchao, Yun had fulfilled Kyoshi’s intent. Watching him remember the deed, and savor it so, was like staring into a mirror that revealed her own ugliness. She couldn’t escape the crinkles of Yun’s eyes, the satisfied contours of his mouth. Had she looked the same, standing in front of Jianzhu’s body?
She noticed a Fire Navy officer behind Yun inhale deeply through his nose, seeking to aid her with a precision shot of fire from his fingers or mouth. He was trying to offer her another opening.
Kyoshi made eye contact with the uniformed man and shook her head. It was too risky. She had to talk her friend down. “Why are you doing this?” she shouted. “Tell me what it is you want!”
The reversion to their old roles calmed him, the servant trying to meet the master’s needs. “Kyoshi,” he said gently. “I want the same gift you received.”
Avatarhood? The house in Yokoya? One she couldn’t give, the other she cared so little about she’d have volunteered to draw up a transfer deed right here and now. He saw her confusion and leaned in to clarify.
“Justice, Kyoshi,” he whispered. “I want justice. Everyone who lied to me is going to suffer the consequences.”
“But Jianzhu is already—”
He shook his head. “Jianzhu was only the biggest name on a long list. Your mistake, Kyoshi, was that you stopped at him. My mistake was that I didn’t save him for last.”
Yun knelt down and placed his palm on the grass. He tilted his head and hummed. “The guards have come out and surrounded the party. Finally. I expected faster reactions fro
m the Fire Nation’s best.”
Kyoshi’s eyes widened. She thought she’d been buying time, but he’d been wasting hers. The whole spectacle of trapping the court where they stood had been a distraction to empty the palace.
