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Something about the old man made Zoryu certain he could have had the greatest double in the world, a living talking mirror, and this person would still be able to tell them apart. “I’m Zoryu,” he said. His voice sounded tiny, like he’d shrunk back into the boy Chaejin used to boss around in their youth. “Who are you?”
“You can call me Lao Ge. Or Tieguai. I don’t care. Listen here, young Zoryu. Normally I—glahck—the people I visit.” He drew his finger across his throat as he made the sound. “But today I’m delivering a message on behalf of a friend. Consider yourself lucky.”
“What’s the message?” Zoryu asked shakily. He had a good idea already who it was from.
“That powerful people like yourself are still beholden,” the old man said. “That you can still be reached. My friend had a hunch you might be inclined to go back on your promise and shed a little blood. Hide a few atrocities. This is your reminder to be the benevolent Fire Lord she knows you were always meant be.”
Lao Ge pointed at himself. “Now, me? I approve of your sort of ruthlessness. But my friend has a softer heart. Not a whole lot softer, mind you, but she prefers it when people live.” He shrugged as if it were the most ridiculous idea he’d ever heard.
“So she sends an assassin to threaten me?” Zoryu rose from his seat, indignant. “I am the Fire Lord! I am the reigning head of state! Is this how the Avatar conducts diplomacy now?”
The old man put a single finger on Zoryu’s chest and shoved. Zoryu flew back into his chair hard, nearly tipping it over. Shooting pain rippled from the single point of contact. He had to check he wasn’t bleeding.
“You don’t understand,” the old man said. “She told me to tell you she realizes her entire mistake was trying to dabble in politics with you.”
His voice dropped into a deadly register. “My friend is not a diplomat. She is the failure of diplomacy. She is the breakdown of negotiations. There is no escalation of hostilities beyond her.”
He stood back, a grandfatherly smile on his face once more. Deciding the message had been sufficiently delivered, he hopped onto the window ledge to leave. Zoryu didn’t know how. The drop from this height was at least a hundred feet.
The man looked over his shoulder for a parting word. “Some people in my country like to believe Avatar Yangchen watches over them. But you, Fire Lord. I can assure you that Avatar Kyoshi watches over you.”
Zoryu balled his fists. The feeling of powerlessness infuriated him, made him slip into childish retorts. “She can’t watch me forever!” he yelled.
The old man tilted his head back and laughed to rival the thunder.
