Chapter 9 – Surprises

Chen took a few steps towards the middle of the stream so its eddies reached about mid-thigh, dampening the hem of her skirt.

Yang didn't know what to expect as she took a deep breath, releasing the air slowly though her nose.

He almost didn't catch the exact moment she started moving. Very slowly at first, her hands rising from her sides, the wooden bangles on her wrists click-clacking together lightly. Her eyes were closed in concentration but no hint of strain could be seen on her features. In flowing, circular movements she traced patterns through the air, swaying in tune with the current of the water with an increasing intensity.

Then, just as imperceptibly at first, the water responded.It rose in strings from the surface of the stream, still flowing as if she had not altered their motion, only their path for a short while. They swayed ephemerally about her nimble form in beautiful patterns like starlings in flight – mesmerizing.

The water flexed and bent, parts of it coalescing into a rippling sheet about one arm-length in diameter. From the edges it grew solid and opaque which was something Yang had never known water to do. Its surface was not perfectly smooth, with a few ridges and bumps. However, the polish was immaculate, like the surface of a pond on the stillest of days and for a moment Yang could look back at himself staring in awe. A slight jolt went through him as he noticed the color of his eyes: One violet, The Other burgundy.

Next, the pane of water began to steam from the center and disintegrate in a plume which slowly resolved itself back into those fragile strings, thin as a few strands of hair.

She opened her eyes slowly, the arcing threads of water settling in the rush of the stream with little more than a ripple.

"That's…" Yang tried to say something but couldn't find the words.

"Waterbending." Chen said, her chin tilted up and the sun catching in her eyes. Her hair seemed windblown now despite the stagnant air, its alabaster waves pushed back to reveal the glory in her expression.

"My skill is a secret even amongst our tribe so please, Shen Zhiwang, you must not tell a soul." She lifted a finger to her lips to emphasize her point. Now that the force of Water was not filling her, she seemed the fragile girl she had moments ago. But now Yang knew differently. They were similar, he realized. Powerful and with secrets.

At that moment a cry came up from the town, nearly startling Yang into dropping the laundry-rod he realized he was still holding. The cry had only lasted a moment and was then cut off, which couldn't be good. Before Yang could think to react, Chen had pushed past him and was scaling the hill as fast as she could. In that moment Yang recognized the voice behind the shout and hurried after her, the beautiful spectacle he had just witnessed still playing over in the back of his mind.

Chieftain Fei lay on his stomach. One of his arms was bent over his head at an awkward angle and both his legs splayed as if to brace himself for a fall. Already the dirt beneath him was stained a sticky crimson which was fading to a dull brown as Yang approached, jogging after Chen.

With a strangled gasp, she skidded to her knees beside his unmoving form, heedless of the spreading blood. A great, wracking sob clawed its way out from her, half-scream. She let one delicate hand rest on his broad, hairy back as if to assure herself this was real.

It is real. Yang thought, his eyes dry and disbelieving.

As he watched a silver-fly circled once and landed in the spreading puddle of red. It sucked for a moment at its bounty but soon became caught in the sticky flow and drowned for its greed.

Eventually more villagers ran up to inspect the scene and by now Chen was wailing her grief, inconsolable by the women who held her shoulders and try to pull her away. She fought them, scratching and shouting until they gave up and let her be. Menfolk gathered for a while, speaking amongst themselves before one came over and gently pushed Chieftain Fei onto his belly despite Chen's protests.

All of this transpired as if Yang were in a dream. He had seen dead bodies before, of course. He had hunted and killed and eaten his prey as was proper in the eyes of spirits and animals. This was different: Death for the sake of death, and Yang knew it would not stop at this. The overbearing sun pressed down on his head and pushed on his eardrums, turning the contents of his stomach to ash.

There, in Fei's right breast gleamed a bone dagger wedged in to the hilt. One of the men carefully removed it and wiped the blade clean in the dirt. Inscribed in the bone were a series of markings which Yang could not decipher.

The man stared at the markings for a little while, his mouth working out the noises slowly. Clearly the residents of this village did not have much use for the written word.

Yang felt his skin prickle as the man's eyes flicked over to him and he recognized the man as the one who had spoken out against him the night of the banquet. He barely had time to take a step back before the man crouching with the dagger called for others to grab him.

"There is a traitor in your midst." The man spat the meaning of the written inscription at Yang, who now had his arms pinned behind him painfully. The daze of unrealism had still not lifted and was blurring these events as if they were happening to someone else. Chen cried out somewhere but was beaten back. Yang's shoulder bones were grinding with the force of the grip the villagers had on him. For all his Power, Yang was still just a boy and could fight back no more than Tyaga could best Sidda.

As if Yang's thoughts had called him, Tyaga's guttural snarl ripped through his head, shattering the world back into high focus. The pain in his shoulders bit into him with a sudden force that drove him to his knees. The eel-dog leapt into the tangle of humans, causing the women and some of the men to edge back from his wildly gnashing fangs. The pressure on Yang's shoulders lessened slightly as the men behind him balked away from the feral beast.

The standoff lengthened in the lurid afternoon. More silver-flies were gathering now on the corpse everyone seemed to have forgotten about – except for Chen, of course. Tyaga's snarling seemed to be losing its effect and Yang thought this might be his last opportunity to save their hides.

"I am no traitor!" Yang shouted to the man with the dagger, his voice cracking. He still couldn't bring himself to remember the man's name but he knew he was a lead member of one of the hunting parties. The man's bald head was tattooed in vine-like patterns of a dark brown that matched his hard eyes.

The man stood sinuously, brandishing the bone dagger and causing Tyaga to renew his posturing with vigor.

"Is that so?" The man asked, grimacing. He lifted the dagger and displayed the hilt to all gathered. "This is a Siiwah dagger. But you wouldn't know anything about that, now would you?" In the bright light outside the blanket of the canopy, the tattooed man's dark eyes seemed almost black. Black like the tendrils of hatred which had begun to climb from Yang's heart and slink through his blood.

"That is so!" Yang shouted back, the pain in his shoulder bones unnoticed as he pulled against his guards and tried to rise to his feet once more. "I would never betray the Chiyohs! Not after you have taken me into your home and given me your trust!"

"No," the man replied smoothly, "not our trust. Just his." He gestured to Fei's prone form with the dagger, an angry grin twisting the corners of his mouth. "I am chief now that Fei is dead. Spirits guide his soul." The prayer seemed ironic, glued onto the back of his previous statement but nobody seemed to notice. A few even nodded, acknowledging his claim.

"And it is a mistake I shall not repeat." The man said evenly, causing even Tyaga to back away slightly. The tension was palpable as the new Chieftain – Busiri, Yang remembered his name at last – slowly turned the dagger over in his calloused fingers, contemplating their fate. Yang tried his best to mask his emotions, hoping to hide the spark of fear which had begun to blossom in his ribcage.

He had not even begun to work on making good on the promise he had made to Bei Shiba, and now they would kill him! To his surprise, Yang did not know which he was more upset about. Chen was still weeping beside her father's corpse, but her eyes were locked on his, as if she were trying to communicate something.

"Aha!" Busiri said at last, snapping Yang's attention back to his adversary. A wretched smile was slowly spreading across his face, putting his already hollow cheeks into high relief. "Tie them up and leave them in the stables! We shall feast tonight and bury them in the morning!" Busiri barked the orders as one who was accustomed to having his word heeded without question. A few of the crowd whooped their approval and set off to procure the rope. The rest were less enthusiastic, since Yang had been likeable and friendly in his time with the villagers. However, they obliged Busiri and lowered their eyes, not wanting Yang to see their shame.

It took a few of the larger men to subdue Tyaga and it was not without a few nasty bites that they bound his paws and muzzled him. When one of the rough men kicked the eel-dog in the snout for good measure, Yang raged against his own ties, the Air around them whipping in its shared fury. Anticipating the Powers they knew Yang would unleash, one man brought his fist down hard on Yang's head, sending him into the dark.

Everything fell away. Everything except for his promise: To destroy this village utterly. Kill every adult man and woman in retribution for the slaughter of Bei Shiba's pups in cold blood.