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he left that to cronies who were too weak for me to confront without looking like a bully. I know exactly how Lord Zoryu feels, trying to win a war of insults against an enemy he can’t confront.”
She bit her lip, trying to convince herself more than anyone. “And what could I have done, really? I was the headmistress’s daughter. Any fights I got into would have reflected poorly on her, or made it look like I was abusing my status. Was I supposed to go whining to a teacher that the other kids were saying mean things about my mother?”
Kyoshi couldn’t believe it. “I thought the academy was this . . . this wonderful experience that shaped you.”
“It did. I learned everything I know there. But I wasn’t happy until I left and found a purpose on the outside.” She gave Kyoshi a tilted smile full of heartbreak. “Serving the Avatar.”
Kelsang used to say there was pain and joy in all things, often when trying to comfort Kyoshi about her earliest years in Yokoya. During her visit to the Fire Nation, Kyoshi had been thrilled each time she discovered another little cache of information about Rangi, like unearthing another bit of treasure. But under the shine was life, grubby and dirty and impossible to burnish.
She would take it anyway. Along with everything else about her girl, no matter how unexpected or painful. It took every ounce of her willpower not to lean over and give the Firebender a forbidden kiss on the top of her head.
Together they walked down the street that bisected the guest districts, cutting across the wedges of restaurants and shops. Rangi pointed out some festival-related traditions they saw along the way. Paper streamers strung over doorways were meant to comb the entering visitors for good luck. Shopkeepers cooked pots of beans to represent the inventories being counted. The dark, sugary drinks sold everywhere symbolized the prodigious amount of ink Avatar Szeto used over his career. Had it not been for the unpleasantness by the beach, they could have pretended they were here to enjoy themselves.
But reality intruded yet again, once they rounded the corner of the inn they were staying at. A huddle of men came into view. Kyoshi could tell from the clouds of dust and swearing, the way their fists rose and fell, what lay at the center of the ring. Their victim.
She lowered her shoulder into two of the men at once, sending them flying away from the group. Rangi took the other two attackers by the backs of their collars and yanked down, slamming them to the ground.
Kyoshi expected the dazed and bleeding youth they’d been beating to be a Saowon, isolated from Huazo’s group, but judging from his clothes he was a local like the other four men. “What is going on here?” she bellowed.
“We caught this traitor putting up a stone camellia banner over his stall!” said one of the men wriggling in Rangi’s grasp.
“I just wanted some business,” mumbled the young vendor as he shakily got to his knees.
“And that was more important to you than the honor of your clan? No nephew of mine is going to toady up to the Saowon!” The ringleader tried to kick more dust in the direction of his beaten kinsman.
Kyoshi shared a worried look with Rangi. It had taken less than an hour since the arrival of the Saowon for a fight to break out, and it hadn’t even been between rival clans. Kyoshi could see the grains of violence crystallizing into a fuller shape. Under their feet, North Chung-Ling was priming to explode.
SPIRITUAL EXERCISES
“It doesn’t surprise me they were related,” Nyahitha said when Kyoshi told him about the act of battery she’d stopped. “Enemies are enemies, but no one can shame you like your own family.”
She and Rangi had immediately hauled the offenders to the town jail. But the local judge’s indifferent response to the crime and his strong family resemblance to the uncle of the victim meant it was unlikely they’d be locked up for longer than overnight. She would have to remember the troublemakers’ faces if she saw them around town in the morning.
Kyoshi followed Nyahitha on a narrow path that crept along the rim of the caldera. It was just the two of them. Her entire party had shown up to his tent at the appointed time. He’d taken one look at the motley group before declaring that spiritual breakthroughs were not a group activity. He would need the Avatar alone.
Climbing up here had been sweaty work in the humidity of the island. It was easier to talk now, exposed to cooling breezes that ran across the edges of the cliff heights. “It’s not a good sign though,” Nyahitha said. “Fights don’t usually break out until later in the festival, once the alcohol starts flowing. I’m sure you have plenty of drunken aggression in the Earth Kingdom, but here, where you’ve got to avenge every stupid slight upon your name . . .” He grimaced. “I tell you, I don’t love that part about my country.”
Kyoshi knew the feeling. The Earth Kingdom’s hidebound, corrupt habits had caused her no end of grief. “At least there won’t be any Agni Kais,” Nyahitha said. “It’s a spiritual offense to burn another person during a holiday.”
They walked farther until they came to a bluff that overlooked a growing plain, a flattened gentle slope that bore the marks of plow and hoe. Most of the ground had been upturned and emptied.
“There’s not enough light to see it clearly now, but over there are the melonyam fields,” Nyahitha said, pointing to a still-green patch on the opposite side of the village. “They’re an extremely sensitive crop, so they stay in the ground until the very end of the festival. I’d be surprised if they even survive that long though. This town is withering, Avatar. The tourist money helps, but it’s not enough.”
“Do you think the rumors are true? Could the spirits be angry at Lord Zoryu for some reason?”
“Man guesses, spirits act,” Nyahitha said, trotting out an old expression. “You could try asking them yourself once you figure out how.” He pointed to a stump on another nearby clearing. “That’s where we’d tie up your flying bison, if you had one.”
Kyoshi frowned. “I do have a bison. Or at least access to one.”
“What?!” Nyahitha’s shout echoed in the evening air. “Why didn’t you say so? We’ve been hiking for an hour! We could have flown here in minutes!”
“You didn’t tell me where we were going! I thought the walking was part of the spiritual exercise!”
The two of them held back from swearing at each other. Between the Flying Opera Company’s obsession with Pengpeng and Nyahitha’s grumbling that she hadn’t brought Yingyong, Kyoshi was beginning to think the world would be better off if the Avatar simply reincarnated as a sky bison from now on. At least then it would be universally beloved.
“All right, just sit,” Nyahitha said. “Anywhere is fine as long as you give me some space in front of you.”
Kyoshi took her position. “We’re not doing incense, are we?” She’d had bad experiences with incense, to say the least.
