The Rise of Kyoshi (Avatar, The Last Airbender)

“I remember when I first met this one,” he said as he fixed Kyoshi with his slitted gaze. His fingers gripped Lek’s scalp, yanking and twisting his head around, making sure it hurt. “He was such a mouthy little brat. But he learned how to act.”

Lek put up with the manhandling without a noise. Mok cast him to the side like an apple core. “I hope you’re an equally quick study,” he said to Kyoshi, making a clicking noise with his teeth.

After Mok left, no one spoke. They waited for Lek to pick up his hat off the ground and smooth his hair. His eyes were red from more than dust.

Kyoshi had questions, but she was afraid of saying them out loud in the street. She knew exactly what kind of man the Accountant was.

Jianzhu had once implemented a policy that any member of the staff, no matter how lowly, could talk to him personally about any household concern. Kyoshi saw the gesture of kindness devolve into some of the servants ratting each other out over minor grievances, hoping to curry favor. She knew now that had been his intent all along.

The longhouse-lined streets of Hujiang felt like the walls of the mansion during the worst of the paranoia. She had no doubt that a careless word risked making it to Mok’s ears. She followed her group to a termite-eaten inn that hadn’t been painted since Yangchen was alive. Many of the outlaws they passed along the way had moon peach blossoms in various states of freshness placed somewhere on their person. She couldn’t believe how dumb she was not to have noticed before.

They paid for a single room and tromped up the stairs, a funeral procession. Inside their lodgings, the bare planks of the floor had been oiled by the touch of human skin. There weren’t enough beds if they were planning to sleep here tonight.

“This is one of the tighter-built houses,” Kirima said after she shut the door and slumped against a wall. “It’ll be safe to talk as long as you don’t shout.”

Wong stuck his head out the window and did a full sweep of the street below, craning his head upward to check the roof. He pulled himself back in and latched the shutters closed. “I suppose you want an explanation,” he said.

“Those hard times we mentioned back in Chameleon Bay,” Kirima said. “They were pretty hard. After your parents died, Jesa’s bison escaped, and we never saw him again.”

Kyoshi understood that much. The link between Air Nomads and their flying companions was so strong that the animals would normally run away and rejoin wild herds if they lost their Airbender. It was a complete miracle that Pengpeng had stuck around to help her.

“We were trapped in the wrong city with too many debts to the wrong people,” Kirima continued, ignoring the irony that by most standards they were the wrong people. “We were desperate. So we accepted the Autumn Bloom Society as our elders in exchange for some favors and cash.”

“The peach flower guys,” Wong said.

Moon peaches normally bloomed in spring, but then again these were daofei, not farmers. “I take it this group is now beholden to the Autumn Bloom?” Rangi said.

“It seemed like a safe move at the time,” Kirima said. “After the Yellow Necks scattered, there were so many smaller societies grubbing for the scraps. Mok and the Autumn Bloom started off as nothing special. But then they began to squeeze the other outfits.”

“And by squeeze we mean crush them to a pulp and suck on the bloodstains,” Wong said.

“They were barely concerned with turning a profit,” Kirima said, shaking her head at the greatest outrage of all. “The law hasn’t caught wind of them yet because they’ve yet to make any big plays aboveground.”

“Well, I can guarantee you that’s about to change,” Rangi said. “What we saw in the bazaar was a campaign muster. A recruitment drive. Mok has big plans ahead.”

“And we’re signed up now,” Kirima said. “If we disobey a summons by our sworn elders, our name will be worth less than mud. We’ll be worse off than before we met the Autumn Bloom.”

“Plus he’ll, you know, kill us,” Wong said.

Lek thumped the back of his head against the wall. “Mok owns us now,” he said. He sounded like he was speaking through an empty gourd. ?

?Our independence was Jesa and Hark’s pride. And we threw it away. Because of me.”

“Lek,” Kirima said sharply. “You were injured and would have died without treatment. We’ve been over this.”

“Stung by a buzzard wasp,” Lek said to Kyoshi and Rangi. He laughed with a bitterness that had to have been developed over many nights of reflection. “Can you believe it? Like I was fated to be this group’s downfall.”

“Jesa and Hark would have made the same decision in a heartbeat,” Kirima said.

Kyoshi’s breath rushed in and out through her nose. Slowly at first, and then faster and faster, until her lungs felt like they’d escape through the holes in her skull.

She remembered scraping her head against the frozen ground when she was little, trying to seek relief for the fever blazing within her body. She remembered trying to walk again after untreated sickness sapped her muscles, not being certain if the shaking would ever go away.

Was it possible to enter the Avatar State through sheer contempt? She stared at the daofei, lost in their own histories. What did they know, huh? What did they know? They’d had each other. Family willing to make sacrifices. She had no doubt that Jesa and Hark would have done anything for their gang. Just not their daughter. Sworn ties trumped blood ties. Wasn’t that the lesson that needed to be etched into her bones?

“Oh, boo-hoo,” Kyoshi snapped. “How pathetic of you.”

They turned their heads toward her. She refused to look at any one of them, instead staring at a blank spot on the wall where a knot had fallen out of the wood, leaving a dent in the plank.