She couldn’t go to another master, especially not a well-known one. Any earthbender in a position to aid her was more likely than not to be part of Jianzhu’s web. Looking back on her time at the house, she’d seen the evidence of his reach every day. The gifts, the ceremonious visits, and the dictated letters were simply tokens that marked the flow of power and control in the Earth Kingdom. And for as long as she’d known, it all filtered up to Jianzhu.
Kyoshi scrambled over to Rangi and yanked the reins out of her hands. Pengpeng swerved to the side and roared in complaint.
“Stop that!” Rangi shouted.
“Rangi, please! You’d only be sending me right back into his hands!” Kyoshi nearly bit through her tongue as she remembered the horror Jianzhu unleashed from deep within the mountain and his complete callousness while he did so. Rangi couldn’t have known the extent of her fear. Kyoshi was certain the man hadn’t shown that side of himself to anyone but her and Yun.
Rangi fought with her for the reins. “Let go! You’re being ridiculous!”
“Rangi, as your Avatar, I command you!”
The Firebender recoiled like she’d been struck by a whip. The order wasn’t one of Yun’s jokes. It was an exploitation of Rangi’s oath to protect and obey the Avatar. An attack on her honor.
Rangi blew a long strand of black hair out of her face. It didn’t go very far, the end of it sticking to her mouth. “I suppose I have to get used to you saying that.”
There was an agonizing distance in her voice, and Kyoshi despised it. She didn’t want a professional bodyguard obeying her orders. She wanted her Rangi, who scolded her without hesitation and never backed down.
They spent a long time in silence, listening to the breeze pick up.
“Yun is gone,” Rangi said. “He’s really gone.” Her voice seemed thin, drawn out by the passing wind, like the notes of a flute. She sounded hollow inside.
Kyoshi had no comfort to give her. Both of their lives had centered around duty. Kyoshi’s for the sake of survival, Rangi’s for pride and glory. But Yun had managed to pierce both their shells. Their friend had been stolen, and as far as Kyoshi was concerned, there was a single path laid out before her that she could take in response, lit by the clean, bright fires of hatred.
“I’m not ready to confront Jianzhu,” Kyoshi said. “I’m not nearly strong enough yet. I have to find bending masters who can teach me to fight and who aren’t in his pocket.”
In fact, it was more than that. She’d need teachers who were completely unknown to Jianzhu. If he suspected she was after training, he’d look for her in schools around the Four Nations.
And she’d have to conceal she was the Avatar. That news would spread so fast it would act as a beacon for Jianzhu, allowing him to close in on her before she was prepared. She didn’t have a good idea how she’d obtain instruction in all four elements without giving the game up, but she’d make it work somehow.
The idea sounded ludicrous in her head. It was ludicrous. And yet Kyoshi knew she would walk off this cliff without hesitation. She would stick both hands into a dragon’s mouth if it meant the slightest chance she could pay back Jianzhu what she owed him.
Rangi dragged her hand down her face. “Fine. Bending masters. Where do you want to look first? You’re talking like you have a plan, so let’s hear it.”
“You’re not coming with me,” Kyoshi said. “I have to do this alone.”
The Firebender gave her a look of such utter contempt for that notion that it could have been grounds for an Agni Kai. Kyoshi was afraid this might happen. Rangi’s powerful faith, her need to fulfill her duty, would spiral around with no spot to land on but her.
She had to stand strong. She’d lost so much already, and she wasn’t going to risk her one remaining connection to this world on a fool’s quest. “You’re not coming with me,” Kyoshi repeated. “As your Avatar I command you to stay behind. Rangi, I’m serious.”
She wanted to sound angry, but the effect was ruined by the overwhelming tide of relief she felt at Rangi’s rejection of her demand. A strictly professional servant of the Avatar couldn’t disobey her, but a companion might.
“I have no idea how long this journey will take,” Kyoshi said. “And there are secrets about me that I haven’t told you.”
“Oh no, Kyoshi’s keeping a secret from me,” Rangi moaned an octave lower than normal. “I think I’ll be okay with whatever your little revelation is, given the last thing you sprung on me was only the most important piece of information ON THE PLANET.”
The crag passed them by, a silent onlooker that wanted no part of the conversation. The last marker of reason in an ocean of uncertainty. From this point onward there was nothing but trouble ahead.
But at least Kyoshi had her friend back.
“We need rest, or we’ll lose effectiveness,” Rangi declared, nestling herself under the corner of a tarp that had come loose. “If you’ve got a destination in mind then I’m taking the first sleep shift. You owe me that much.”
“Rangi.” Kyoshi tried one last time to growl in threat. Instead the name came out like a dedication of thanks to the spirits for this fiery blessing of a girl. It was futile trying to mask how Kyoshi felt toward her.
“Where you go, I go.” The Firebender rolled to her side and yawned. “Besides, there’s only one bison, rocks-for-brains. We can’t split up now.”
Despite how tired they were, Rangi only dozed fitfully, shivering though it was no longer cold. Watching her from a distance, Kyoshi had an answer regarding the little snips of breath she’d listened to for so long in their shared tent on the iceberg. It was how Rangi cried in her sleep. Every so often, she would burrow her face into her shoulders to wipe her tears.
With their eyes on each other, it was easy to be brave. Maybe that’s the only way we get through this, Kyoshi thought. Just never look away.