The Rise of Kyoshi (Avatar, The Last Airbender)

There had also been an attempt on Te’s life, the letter went on, as if Te weren’t eminently replaceable. Two assassins had almost killed him but at the last minute decided to show mercy. An old man, whose description Jianzhu didn’t recognize, and a girl.

The tallest girl that Te had ever seen.

And unless panic had addled his mind, he’d seen her bend earth and air.

Jianzhu leaned back in his chair. He ignored the superfluous details that ended the letter, something about painted faces and how Te needed to end the cycle of grifting that his family had been so deeply ensconced in and could Master Jianzhu spare a few lessons in wiser governance and blah blah blah.

The Avatar was alive. Relief washed over him like ice water.

But what on earth was she doing? She had left Taihua and reached Te’s palace before the full moon, which meant moving at a reasonable pace. Her actions didn’t sound like those of a captive.

Jianzhu let the question go unanswered while he opened another letter. This one was from a prefectural captain in Yousheng, a territory that bordered Te’s. The lawman had captured a handful of daofei, scared witless, with an unbelievable story. Their leader, Xu Ping An, had been murdered by a spirit with glowing eyes, drenched in blood and white ashes, who had carried Xu into the sky before sucking the life-giving flame out of his body and consuming it for herself. The captain thought that the dreaded Xu Ping An had died years ago at Zhulu Pass. As the esteemed sage who’d defeated the loathsome daofei leader, did Jianzhu have any information that might shed light on the situation?

Glowing eyes, Jianzhu thought. He’d seen those eyes close-up before, and nearly lost his life. He made a quick mental map of Yousheng and found that the fleeing bandits could very well have seen the Avatar between Te’s palace and Zigan Village.

All right, then. Things were looking up. With some slight adjustments, he’d have the Avatar back under his roof. He didn’t understand what she was doing or why, but he didn’t care to. He had her location, and he had time.

It wasn’t until the next morning that he found he had run fresh out of the latter.

One thing he and Hei-Ran had gotten good at in their younger days was talking to each other through fake smiles and laughter. It came in handy when they had to maintain a front during gatherings of high-ranking officials while Kuruk dozed off the previous night’s revelries or made eyes at pretty delegates. Jianzhu stood in front of his gate, his feet wet with morning dew, and waved happily at the approaching caravan that was emblazoned with the Beifong flying boar.

“Did you know about this?” he said to Hei-Ran. He thought his teeth might crack from frustration.

“I swear I did not.” Hei-Ran was as angry at him as he was at her. “I thought you said we had weeks.”

It should have been that long. How the Earth Avatar was taught was solely up to his or her master. To revoke that bond required a conclave of Earth Kingdom sages. Gathering a sufficient number of them from across the continent should have taken as long as they’d discussed the day before, if not longer. And yet judging from the size of the caravan and the banners that flew from the tops of the coaches, Hui had pulled together enough heads seemingly overnight. He had to have been preparing this power grab since befo

re the incident in Taihua.

He’d underestimated the chamberlain. Taken the man at face value instead of considering what depths lay beneath.

The lead coach pulled up to the gate of the manor and came to a stop. The boar on the doors split open to reveal Hui, who’d traveled alone.

“Chamberlain!” Jianzhu said with a boisterous smile. “What a delightful surprise!” Jianzhu wanted to reach out and throttle him in full view of the rest of the caravan. He might have been forgiven. Avatar business or no, showing up unannounced was as rude as it was in any other circumstance. “Is Lu Beifong with you?”

“Master Jianzhu,” Hui said grimly. “Headmistress. I wish I could say I was here under more pleasant circumstances. Lu Beifong will not be joining us.”

Jianzhu noticed Hui didn’t say whether or not he had the old man’s approval for this action. He watched the other sages step out of their coaches and tallied who had come. Herbalist Pan, from Taku, carrying his pet cat in his arms. General Saiyuk, the lord commander of Do Hwan Fortress, another political appointee like Te who was vastly underqualified to lead that stronghold. Sage Ryong of Pohuai—

Spirits above, Jianzhu thought. Had Hui simply scavenged the entire northwestern coast of the Earth Kingdom for allies?

It might have been the case. There was no one from Omashu or Gaoling or Ba Sing Se, where Jianzhu’s support was the strongest. Hui had handpicked the attendees of this surprise conclave, sages he could influence. Promises and vast sums of money must have flowed like water leading up to today.

Zhang Dakou was here too, Jianzhu noted dryly. No Zhang worth his salt would pass up an opportunity to humiliate a Gan Jin.

Their numbers were surprising. He hadn’t realized these many sages fell outside his sphere of influence. Perhaps about a fifth of the most important people in the Earth Kingdom had arrived on his doorstep with hostile intent.

“Well!” he said cheerfully, smacking his hands together. “Let’s get you all inside and refreshed.”

The staff was aflutter. They hadn’t had any warning that guests were coming. The dire nature of their short notice was made more apparent by Jianzhu entering the kitchen and personally overseeing the preparations. Nay, helping with them.

“Everyone, calm down,” he said reassuringly as he hoisted a massive kettle onto the stove himself. “You don’t have to pull out your finest work. It’s not your fault; there simply isn’t time.”

“But, Master, so many of your peers at once?” Auntie Mui said, near tears. “It’d be shameful to give lesser service! We have to—we have to line up a midday meal, and dinner, and, oh, there’s not nearly enough firewood!”

Jianzhu opened the kettle lid and peered inside to check the water level before turning around and laying his hands on the woman’s shoulders. “My dear,” he said, looking into her eye. “They’re here on business. I doubt you’ll have to feed many, or any of them. Concentrate on getting the tea ready. That’s all.”

Mui turned redder. “Of-of course, Master,” she stuttered. “It would be impossible to discuss important matters without tea.”