Tales of the Spirit Age: Fall of the Blue Spirit

Part XXIII: Of Negotiation and Doubt


Lhamu dipped her snout into the river and exhaled a sharp blast of air. Children, either clinging to her broad shoulders and back like lemurs or sculling about her like pond-beetles, shrieked with laughter as the water and mist arced impressively high into the air.

The sky-bison chuckled and began rolling over to cool off her back as the afternoon sun blazed down.

"Eek!"

"Ack! Lhamu!"

"Stop, you're going to squish us!"

"Rinzen, help!"

Rinzen poked his head up out of the boat he lounged in and waved off-handedly. "She's just playing with you guys, there's no way Lhamu'd actually…"

*BLOOSH!*

"Well… I sit corrected," the airbender observed as small heads popped up out of the water one after the other like singing gophers from their burrows after the cat-owl has passed.

One of the older boys immediately clambered up on top of Lhamu's leathery stomach and began tickling her under the chin in revenge. The sky-bison "hrrrrmmm"-ed and flailed lethargically, cascading water on the others, who yelped and swam out of range.

Rinzen chuckled and lay back down in the boat, a coracle he had borrowed from one of the village fisherman. The small craft bobbed and twitched on the placid current, anchored in place upriver from the raucous covey of youngsters who were Lhamu's playmates. He had been at work since before dawn, composing letters to be sent out to the various villages, enlisting the aid of any boat that could be had for the evacuation of the Upper River to the island below Jiāng Hui, among other things.

It rankled him slightly that Yǎn-sui had already done a bunk with Elder Yu, thus depriving Rinzen of the opportunity to rub his early morning productivity in the demon's disparaging face. But then, he was an airbender, not given to caring for other's opinions. Much.

As an airbender, Rinzen was pragmatic in his optimism. Although Elder Yu had made no official announcements regarding his support of Yǎn-sui's plan, Rinzen did not doubt his evaluation of the elderly village leader (and of Yǎn-sui's ability to impress, no matter his lacking in a sense of humor), and thus felt comfortably certain his preparations were well worth the effort. Rinzen smirked to himself and let his eyes slide closed…

… only to jerk upright, nearly capsizing his boat as Yǎn-sui strode past, coated with ash and smeared with blood, trailing smoke and dust in his wake. "Hey!"

Yǎn-sui started, stopped and stared at Rinzen in confusion, as though the airbender was a complete stranger.

"What happened this time?" Rinzen asked, the coracle pitching warningly as he attempted to stand. His eyes skimmed over Yǎn-sui to find where the demon was wounded, then narrowed. "Why are your friend's horns missing?" he demanded, pointing at Yǎn-sui's conspicuously bare bicep. While the leathern band was absent, there were two things that had been added, both held in Yǎn-sui's left hand: a scroll capped by green jade covers and what looked to be an old shark tooth as long as Rinzen's forearm. "And what are those?"

"Uutu. Anu. The shrine has been destroyed," Yǎn-sui rattled off in clipped tones, "I must find Jiān, and begin the evacuation of the humans immediately. Your other questions are irrelevant." He turned away, no doubt intending to stalk off toward the village, then seemed to think the better of it.

"Wait, what...?!" Rinzen sputtered as Yǎn-sui suddenly loomed over him. "Hey, what ar… don'teventhinkabou-OOF!"

"Stop flailing, or I will carry you by the top of your skull," Yǎn-sui informed him, clapping a hand on the small of Rinzen's back to steady the irate airbender on his shoulder.

"You don't have to carry me at all, dammit!" Rinzen blared as Yǎn-sui strode off over the water, "I'm not a sack of yams!"

Lhamu, alerted by Rinzen's yelping, immediately righted herself and half-swam, half-glided to block Yǎn-sui's path, deep gruff rumblings of warning thrumming across the water. The children swam after her en-masse, a chorus of confused and anxious calls flitting over the water ahead of the pack.

Yǎn-sui halted and bowed slightly as Lhamu pulled up to him, her posture radiating wary aggression. "Lhamu, please return the human spawn to the village immediately," he directed with curt politeness, "Circumstances require that we move swiftly, without alarm."

The sky-bison raised her wide flat tail out of the water and glared balefully.

"Lhamu, I'm okay – he didn't squish me or anything," Rinzen assured her, nearly spraining his neck craning it around to look at his friend, "If Yǎn-sui's loincloth is in a bunch, it's likely for a good reason."

Lhamu emitted a dubious snort, but nevertheless lowered her tail. By this time, the children had caught up with the trio, enveloping them in a noisy maelstrom of breathlessly shouted questions:

"What's going on?"

"Why'd you swim off, Lhamu?"

"Why's Master Yǎn-sui carrying Rinzen like a sack of yams?"

"Why are you so angry, Lhamu?"

"Is playtime over?"

"Are you going to leave that boat there, Rinzen?"

"Can I ride Lhamu now?"

"Is it lunchtime? Can we eat out here?"

"Hey, where're you going?!"

"Guys, just get on Lhamu's back, she'll take you back to the village!" Rinzen called back to them as Yǎn-sui loped away, "Everything's all right!" He paused. "Everything's not all right, is it."

"Admirable deduction," Yǎn-sui muttered, "Keep your jaws together until I find Jiān, otherwise you will likely send these humans into a panic."

"Fine, but you know, you're likely to make people comment if – YEE!" Rinzen nearly bit his tongue as Yǎn-sui lofted into the air without warning, landing solidly on Lài-nang's outermost dock, startling a father and son who were unloading their daily catch from their boat.

It was immediately apparent Yǎn-sui's swift return had been anticipated, if not its particular manner.

"Master Yǎn-sui, the lady priestess is attending to the newest arrivals in the sick-house, and asked to see you as soon as you returned," Lien greeted him with a slight bow. She paused, glancing bemusedly at the airbender slung over Yǎn-sui's shoulder. Rinzen hung limp, wishing desperately that the dock would collapse or that a rock would fall from the sky and crush him and the thrice-damned manhandling demon would be dragged back to the Abyss by his toenails. "I believe she would also like to speak to Master Rinzen. Elder Yu has decided to support your proposal."

"Hey, that's great!" Rinzen exclaimed, sarcastically ecstatic, "Now put me down, Yǎn-sui, or so help me, I'm going to forget about being a pacifis- ack!"

Yǎn-sui made a show of keeping Rinzen upright after taking him off his shoulder, before turning to the woman. "Lien, I…"

She looked up at him, coolly polite and devoid of any hint of her earlier agitation. "Is there something troubling you, Master Yǎn-sui?"

'Not if you say so,' he thought in relief and held out the lightning-bending scroll and Huánglóng's fang. Rinzen looked at the objects, eyebrows raised quizzically, but kept his mouth shut. "The shrine has been destroyed," he said in undertone - there were plenty of villagers passing to and fro on the dock, more than a few of whom were staring with outright curiosity and growing anxiety at their odd gathering.

Lien, hearing the murmuring behind her, understood immediately. "Thank you, Master Yǎn-sui. I will take these to Elder Yu at once," she said quietly, drawing off her white scarf and swiftly but gently swathing the relics before taking them into her arms.

"Lien, don't…!" Rinzen hissed at her, eyes wide. He reached out instinctively, but Lien tossed her hair and turned away.

One or two gasps sounded from the crowd that had now assembled, and for a moment, Yǎn-sui wondered if they had caught a glimpse of the fang after all. He noticed several of the women, elderly dames and mothers with their children, glaring coldly at Lien as she approached, the men whispering and frowning darkly. One of them stepped forward, the same grey-lipped boat-builder who had been part of the welcoming committee on his first visit to Lài-nang.

"Ah, hell – we're in for it now," Rinzen muttered under his breath, his stance tensing as he stared helplessly at Lien.

"What is it, Kang?" Lien asked, halting before the large, bald-pated man, "Let me pass, I must return to the elder's home."

"You can when you put that veil back on," Kang growled, folding his heavily muscled arms across his chest, his stance clearly indicating he would not budge an inch.

"My business with the elder is more important than a flimsy scrap of cloth," she replied quietly, but the steel had crept into her voice, thick silk sliding over a drawn dagger.

Hissing and other noises of censure escaped the throats of the suddenly hostile assemblage. Rinzen took a step forward, only to have Yǎn-sui's hand descend like an iron glove on his shoulder.

"What in Tian's name are you…?!" Rinzen snarled, only to stop short at the look in Yǎn-sui's eyes.

"Don't," he warned the airbender, "A challenged female is a lethal female."

"Is that what your mourning amounts to?" Kang demanded, drawing confidence from those around him to berate the girl, "A 'flimsy scrap of cloth'? Your husband's spirit still hangs over your head, and you dare…?!"

Kang made the mistake of reaching for the cloth bundle Lien held against her chest. Only Yǎn-sui saw how she clasped the man's wrist, twisted, side-stepping so that his momentum carried him past her, exerting just enough force to ensure that he slammed face-first onto the boards of the dock behind her.

The stunned crowd parted for the young woman, who proceeded to the elder's house along the outer walkway with a purposefully unhurried pace.

'I'm amazed more of these males haven't been eliminated for the liberties they take with females,' Yǎn-sui thought, stepping over Kang's groaning, prostrate form, a benumbed Rinzen in tow. Jiān was waiting, and he had no time to waste.

When frightened and traumatized refugees began seeking sanctuary in Lài-nang, Elder Yu approved an emergency measure of vacating the largest building in the center of the village, which served as a catch-all meeting hall and place of worship and healing. Anyone, villager or refugee, who suffered sickness or injury was moved to a hastily-erected sick-house.

Little more than a roof supported by posts and movable screens of woven bamboo serving for walls, the sick-house perched atop a pontoon moored to the village docks. In case of an epidemic, the impromptu structure could be moved to a different location (or simply cut adrift). While the idea of a transportable "boat of contagion" did not sit well with the more traditionally-minded, others had argued it kept the village healthy and "safe," in that additional sources of panic and unrest could be kept safely out of sight, if not out of mind.

Besides, their argument went, if anything remotely resembling a plague reared its head, the goddess of the river would send her priestess to succor the afflicted.

Yǎn-sui looked dubiously at the sick-house, wallowing at the ends of three long, thick ropes tying its stern to the trestle of the dock he stood on. This end of the village was quiet, even in the middle of the day. No boats going downriver to fish or trade left from this dock anymore, giving wide berth to the ungainly structure and all it symbolized.

Rinzen seemed to be thinking along the same lines, muttering, "Why don't they just send everyone downriver instead of pretending to care about their safety?"

"An eminently logical solution, as you humans don't believe in disposing of your weak by eating them," Yǎn-sui agreed.

"… you'd think I'd be used to you saying stuff like that by now," sighed Rinzen, looking inexplicably green around the gills, passing a shaking hand over his hair.

"Remain here," Yǎn-sui told him, jumping down from the dock.

"Sure, fine, whatever," the airbender said with a long-suffering roll of his eyes at Yǎn-sui's brusqueness. He took a seat at the edge, swinging his feet over the water. "Just don't take too long chatting, I want to know what's going on!"

Feeling the reassuring surge of Jiān's chi, like the familiar embrace of his granted fire as he touched down onto the river's face, Yǎn-sui wondered if he really ought to have been so short with Rinzen. He sensed her presence whenever he touched the water now, even back under the cliffs where he had faced Uutu and Anu. Consumed with confusion and a sense of impending doom, he had not felt the same measure of certainty that closer proximity seemed to grant him. It was laughable, now that he thought about it. 'As if they could have done anything to her without my knowing,' he chided himself.

"Jiān, I have returned as ordered," he said, respectfully announcing his presence as he alighted on the narrow "porch" the screens allowed, crouching down on the planks until she admitted him into her presence, "Rinzen is with me."

There was a brief scuffling noise and the screen was jostled open by none other than Xing. The boy, not quite as tall standing as Yǎn-sui was crouching, gave him a look of sullen recognition, making as little outward note of Yǎn-sui's appearance as Lien had. "The lady priestess is waiting," he informed Yǎn-sui shortly, chucking a thumb over his shoulder toward the darkened interior.

Yǎn-sui nodded and half-rose, stooping low under the eave of the rickety roof. His eyes immediately adjusted to the shadows, sliced and speckled here and there with wedges and spots of sunlight. A dozen humans in all inhabited the sick-house, making for incredibly cramped quarters. Most were asleep, although several near the rear paused in their whispered conversation to regard him with anxious, haunted eyes. A young man sat apart from them, staring glassily out at nothing, his garments rent and bloody. The air was stifling, although ample fresh, cool breezes flowed through the screens. Yǎn-sui chalked it up to too many frightened, exhausted humans crammed in to too small a space.

Jiān knelt beside a little girl who was utterly absorbed in watching the goddess as she gathered the remnants of luminescent healing water into the hollow gourd at her knee. The blue-tinged glow made the blood-marks stand out all the more sharply on Jiān's pale face.

"Can you sleep for me now?" she asked the girl, acknowledging Yǎn-sui with a glance and brief smile before turning her attention back to her charge.

"Uhm-hm," the girl mumbled, tucking her thumb between her pink-bud lips and wriggling down into a comfortable position. She was asleep before her head hit the worn reed mat beneath her.

"The wounds are healed, and the sickness is no longer in her lungs," Jiān said quietly, looking at the elderly woman who had been sitting quietly anxious opposite her on her own pallet, watching the healing, "She should sleep through the night and be as good as new tomorrow morning." The woman clasped her gnarled hands together and bowed wordless thanks to Jiān, before easing herself down so that her head was mere inches from the girl's, her spindly arm tucked across the child's chest.

Jiān moved forward and knelt down so that her knees were practically touching Yǎn-sui's. "Xing, thank you for bringing the meal for them," she said softly, barely above a whisper, "But can you do me one favor and…?"

"I can find a toy for Ai-li, that's easy," he said gruffly, glancing at the sleeping child, "Kiyo'll have something for her or I can make a paper toy like Rinzen taught me."

"Yes, thank you," Jiān said, smiling, "You are very kind."

"Hn." Xing ducked out of the sick house, footing his way up the middle rope to the dock with the agility of a lemur. He passed Rinzen with a barely a nod, bent on carrying out his mission.

"Let's go outside and let everyone rest," she suggested to Yǎn-sui. He bowed and backed out of the sick-house, stepping down onto the river. Jiān followed, placing her veiled hat on her head as she emerged into the late-afternoon sun. "You've heard that Elder Yu has decided?" She sounded distracted, tired; perhaps even Jiān's unfathomable patience with her humans had worn thin.

"Yes – Lien informed me upon my return." Demon and goddess joined Rinzen on the dock, Yǎn-sui merely leaping straight up onto it as was his wont, Jiān riding up on a graceful column of water.

"So…" Rinzen said to Yǎn-sui as he got to his feet, "what new impending doom hangs over our heads this time?"

Yǎn-sui huffed, but quickly summed up his duel with Uutu and Anu's intervention, omitting the latter's wild accusations regarding Yǎn-sui's own loyalties. "Anu destroyed Lord Huánglóng's shrine out of spite when he came to drag Uutu away," he concluded, "The relics survived and I brought them back to Elder Yu for safekeeping."

"Oh, so that's what…!" Rinzen exclaimed, understanding dawning on his face. He slumped his shoulders, banging the heel of his palm into his forehead. "Lien probably thinks I'm as big a thick-headed ass as Kang now."

"What are you talking about?" Jiān wanted to know. She had thus far absorbed Yǎn-sui's report without interruption or expression, but at Rinzen's mention of Lien, she became concerned.

"She took off her veil to hide the relics – not everyone was happy about that," he replied.

Jiān raised an eyebrow, then smiled grimly. "Lien is a strong soul," she said, eyes glinting with a hard look Yǎn-sui had not seen before, "They will understand in time. And if they don't, I'll make them!"

"I don't doubt it," said Rinzen with a chuckle.

"Getting back to what's important," Yǎn-sui interrupted, wondering why they seemed so wound up in Lien's affairs when she had proven more than capable of handling them herself, "from what Anu said, I have no doubt left that the interlopers are indeed god-eaters, and that Jiān is their true target."

"I thought we already said that," Rinzen said after a pause, "How does that change anything?"

Yǎn-sui glared witheringly at him and turned to Jiān.

She shrugged. "It changes nothing," she said firmly.

"Yes, it does!" Yǎn-sui snapped, "The human prey is just a diversion! You must…!"

"'Must' what?" she interrupted in a sharp voice, "Yǎn-sui, now that you know this, is it going to change your plan to evacuate the humans to the island?"

"… No, but…"

"Then that's what we concentrate on. Unless you can tell me exactly how Anu and the others will… will take my power, your plan goes forward and we make protecting people our priority. Even if they aren't the target, they're suffering and I won't allow…!" She stopped abruptly, a strange expression ghosting over her features. "Anyway," she continued hurriedly, noticing the looks the other two were giving her, "we should return to Elder Yu's house to help send out messengers to the outlying villages, as well as get the boats together… oh, and we'll need to notify the Council in Jiāng Hui that…!"

"Way ahead of you," Rinzen interrupted with a smug smirk in Yǎn-sui's direction, "Lhamu and I can get down to Jiāng Hui ten minutes, if Elder Yu hasn't already sent a runner, and messenger hawks are standing by here and there to fly to the remaining villages, upriver and down. A couple of the village leaders I talked to while doing your survey agreed to have boats ready within the hour to evacuate anyone who doesn't have their own boat, if Elder Yu gave the word."

"Then send word to the upland villages that remain that they should come down by the water, streams, waterfalls, until they join the river," Jiān said with a brief questioning glance at Yǎn-sui, who inclined his head in agreement, "I can see better that way, and in case demons do attack somewhere…"

"I… we will be there within moments," Yǎn-sui finished for her. "I expect that Hau and Punga alone will instigate attacks, once the humans begin moving. I wounded Uutu quite seriously; I do not expect him to be conscious until midday tomorrow at the earliest." There was also a slight chance Tiào-fěi had bit deeply enough to be fatal, but it was unlikely Hui would allow that to happen, provided his idiot spawn kept hold of his horns. "From what survivors have said, Anu never seems to be responsible for killing or eating any humans. I believe he considers himself a command-and-controller, holding himself in readiness for the final confrontation with a more… deserving foe."

"Meaning Jiān," Rinzen guessed. Yǎn-sui nodded. Jiān snorted softly, crossing her arms over her chest and lowering the brim of her hat so that only her tightly pursed lips could be seen.

"Rinzen, stress to the leaders of these groups to keep panic and disorder to a minimum," Yǎn-sui continued without pause, "An army is at its most vulnerable in retreat, and humans rife with fear are a mob easily crushed. There is no need to attempt stealth, as that will be impossible. Tell them speed, above all else, is vital. Bid Lhamu to take as many of the weakest humans from Lài-nang to Jiāng Hui as she can, and both of you remain there to coordinate the incoming population and construction of fortifications until Jiān and I arrive. Go."

"I'll ignore the fact that I'm not one of your soldiers, and get," the airbender replied with a mock salute and turned back into the village, "Jiān, don't let him boss you around too much!"

Yǎn-sui waited until Rinzen was out of sight, resisting the urge to fling a bit of planking at his impudent head.

"Milady, I must insist…"

"Yǎn-sui, are you sure…?"

Yǎn-sui waited patiently. "Elder Yu told me that you have not been able to bend lightning," she said at last, drawing close to him. He tensed, but she merely took one of his hands in hers, bending over it so that the brim of her hat continued to conceal her face. "He said it lashed back at you so violently, he was afraid you'd be torn apart." Her fingers traced the lines of his palm, ghosting over the raised scars lightning had burned into him. Pain he had not been aware of dissolved under her cool fingertips. "Why did this happen?"

"Demons are not meant to wield the cold fire," he replied, torn between the urge to snatch his hand away from her caress and the bizarre need to let her continue, "It is against our nature. Lightning can only be controlled by one who is at harmony with himself and the Nature of his surroundings, or at least, one whose mind and spirit are singularly unified."

"Because demons are born of Chaos," she concluded, flattening her hand against his. She looked up at him searchingly. "Do you still want to try?"

He had expected her to forbid him to continue, to decry any further fruitless effort on his part. "I do," he declared, "There is something… I feel as though the power is there, just beyond my grasp, that if I could just reach out far enough, it will be mine." He knew he sounded frustrated, even petulant, but there was something that told him he could grasp this chimera by the tail and make it his.

Jiān smiled, an expression of relief intermixed with a wry appreciation of his ego. "If any demon can wield Agni's lash, it should be the Blue Spirit," she agreed, "I will help, if I can."

Yǎn-sui had learned by now it was useless to argue against her inane ideas, so he merely nodded. "Jiān, I cannot leave your side, now that I know what Anu and the rest are after," he said lowly, although he was fairly certain the argument was all but lost, "You can no longer pre…"

"Even if you say I'm their target, I want you to protect my people," she interrupted firmly, squeezing his hand. She turned her head, gaze drifting toward the floating sick-house. "Why should they suffer, if I'm the one the demons want?" she asked in a whisper, eyes pained and anxious.

"That I do no know," Yǎn-sui replied. That fact had bothered him from the start, ever since Jiān first laid the bonds of life-debt on him: why should renegades of Anu's caliber prey on worthless humans if their objective was to consume the power of a daughter of Tui and La? Every time he turned the puzzle over in his mind, the additional fact that a handful capable humans were allowed to escape seemed more and more suspicious. As Agni's general, he had felt losses more sharply when one or two survivors remained to tell the tale than when a unit had been annihilated. Could it be that the enemy intended to do more with the humans than merely use them to distract attention from their true goal?

'She's already shown that she doesn't place as high a priority on her own life as you do.' Yǎn-sui snarled, rejecting the dark whisper as foolishness. 'She couldn't… she wouldn't…!'

Jiān blinked, startled by his outburst. "Everything you said, what I'm supposed to do during the evacuation… you think I'm not ready to defend myself," she said, sounding both embarrassed and accusatory.

"I know you're not. That is another reason you must come with me in case they attack retreating humans," he answered truthfully, "Punga easily defied you on your own river, and he was not fighting seriously, as you said last night."

Jiān thinned her lips, piqued, then nodded slowly. "I knew I wasn't ready, but it's just so frustrating to realize how unready I really was," she admitted in a quiet voice. She gripped his hand, hard, met his gaze squarely. "I will get better, I have to."

"You will, now that you understand," he replied, strangely proud at the way her eyes shone with determination, "Today, and until we meet Oh at the headwater, we will train in combat as we keep the watch."

"Teach me anything you can – I want to learn, even if… even if it means I have to take a life," Jiān said resolutely.

He somehow knew what it took for her to declare as much.

Regarding the evacuation of Jiān's humans to the island he had designated as their "fortress," Yǎn-sui was forced later to admit he had woefully underestimated Elder Yu's abilities to lead warriors and non-combatants alike. He wondered how the old man could wield such authority, as much as a prince from a throne or a general on the battlefield. Grudgingly (and only to Jiān), he also admitted that in matters of siegecraft, the elder was far more adept. Having approved of Yǎn-sui's plan, the old man immediately reworked the details to accommodate human limitations, of which Yǎn-sui was necessarily ignorant.

Villages farthest from the river were notified first to evacuate, to give them more time to move children, elderly and those others incapable of descending from the highlands quickly. Village leaders living on or near the water were requested to stand by, and to use the time to gather what food was light and kept well, to supply the island should it become impossible to send out foraging parties. To the Council in Jiāng Hui, he dispatched all those in Lài-nang who had any building experience, villager and refugee alike. These would be responsible not only for raising Yǎn-sui's planned fortifications (under Rinzen's direction), but also crafting pontoon rafts that could serve as platforms for firebenders to repel attacks. He also designated Jiāng Hui itself as an auxiliary position, where a select few firebenders could depart up or down the river as necessary to provide cover for incoming refugees.

"… Master Rinzen also wants to know if you feel like coming down and slicing up a few more trees for him," the youth added, constantly poling his dory to keep it more or less steady in the current, "He's decided it's more important to build the pontoons and let us firebenders defend the island where we'll have space to cut loose, rather than try and fight while making sure we don't hurt anyone who isn't fighting. We've also elected squad leaders and are drilling formation bending like you suggested."

"… 'elected'?" Yǎn-sui echoed, wondering if he had heard correctly.

"Oh, yeah; it was kinda funny when one of the girls nominated herself as a squad leader," he chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief, "A village leader's widow at that! Must really want to get some back from those bastards who killed her husband!"

"Well, was she?" Jiān asked with frosty sweetness.

"Was she what?" the youth asked, befuddled.

"Was Lien made a squad leader?" she spelled out for him, the sweetness now dangerously cloying.

The human was thicker than mud on a swamp burrower's back, Yǎn-sui decided, for the youth merely burst out laughing, slapping his knee and nearly loosing his pole in the process. "Good one, there, lady priestess!" he guffawed, his scruffy black topknot bobbing with mirth, "You had me going there for a second! Naw, she got shouted down, but Elder Yu said since she was one of his best students, she would be in charge of one of the squads on the island, which is more than she deserved, if you ask me."

"I didn't; thank you for delivering Master Rinzen's message, Minzhe," the goddess replied with acidic politeness, "My regards to Elder Yu and your father."

"Hey, always happy to help!" Minzhe said, slightly discomfited by the way Jiān's smile looked more like a baring of teeth. He pushed off the river bottom, drifting toward shore until he was caught in the stronger current and shuttled down the river.

"Honestly, his parents must have named him out of wishful thinking," Jiān muttered under her breath, turning back to Yǎn-sui. "Not that I know much about getting ready for war, but things seem to be going rather smoothly."

"Hn," Yǎn-sui agreed distractedly.

Jiān tilted her head. "Too smoothly for you, perhaps?"

Yǎn-sui grunted, shrugging. "It's been nearly two full days since the humans began moving," he mentioned. He and Jiān had stationed themselves about ten miles upriver from Lài-nang, where the river first opened up from the series of rapids that began under the waterfall; here, the river's face was placid, at dawn and dusk looking much like smoothed stone rather than water. The sparsely-wooded banks themselves were much broader here than near Lài-nang, the cliffs ascending gradually above them for several tens of feet before assuming the more sheer nature of their neighbors. Of all the terrain between Jiāng Hui and Jiān's headwater, this was one place where a waterborne or aerial ambush would be most difficult to achieve, even on a cloudy day such as this one. In addition, the sizeable village on the left bank, now emptied of inhabitants, had served as a main transit point for evacuees from the uplands, affording Yǎn-sui a personal observation of the evacuation in progress. There had been little need for him to do more than that; as Jiān said, everything had gone smoothly, just as they planned. 'But…'

"But you'd have expected the other demons to have done something by now, right?"

Yǎn-sui blinked and Jiān quirked a smile. "Precisely," Yǎn-sui admitted, beginning to pace. "Are you certain you've had no indication of enemy activity on any of the upper reaches of the river?"

Jiān shook her head, giving no sign that she was bothered by his impertinent question, in spite having answered it twice already. "Not that I could see, and I've been pushing the limits of my vision as much as possible, even during our sparring." She waved at the surface of the river beneath her feet, where the faint threads of her manifested chi shivered like a spider's web in a breeze. "If anything has happened, the demons aren't letting any survivors slip away this time."

"Hmph, the whole point of selecting a few "lucky ones" to live was to sow terror and confusion among the rest," Yǎn-sui dismissed, "Of that I'm certain. It must mean that Anu and the others have pulled back to allow the evacuation to proceed without interruption."

"And that bothers you," Jiān stated. She bit her lip, looking downriver. "You did say you thought the demons were "herding" the humans the other day. How does that play into their goal of… of taking my power?"

Yǎn-sui stopped pacing to eye at her silently, weighing his options. Jiān was his master by chance and duress; granted, she had shown more generosity and respect to him than any god in his acquaintance, but her desires conflicted with common sense. Even if she had bound him to protect humans, he still served her first and foremost, in that he owed her the life that she had saved. In truest terms, was not doing all he could to preserve her life his first, indeed only, priority, rather than obeying her foolish whims?

'Stop playing with semantics, whelp, and admit you'd rather kill all the humans in this valley yourself than let her sacrifice herself when they use them as hos-'

"I'm not certain," he finally said, gripping Tiào-fěi's hilts with more strength than necessary as he drew them, "Let us return to our sparring for now."

"… Right." Jiān shifted into a neutral stance and waited expectantly.

"What is the fundamental principle of Water as combat?" Yǎn-sui asked, darting to the right and circling her in a blur of blue and black.

"Defense turns to Attack and back again in one form; cycle becomes variation, variation becomes infinite," Jiān replied, whirling and raising a thick trunk of water that swallowed his downward slash with Tiào-fěi's right blade. She pulled, capitalizing on the momentum he had put into his attack, until it seemed certain he would plunge into the river. Yǎn-sui did not resist until the last possible moment, then fed fire down the length of the blade, evaporating the entrapping water into steam. He ducked under Jiān's guard, but did not get a chance to strike, for Jiān had already spun away, opening a vortex in the space where she had stood. It caught Yǎn-sui's left leg and pulled hungrily; only by the dint of pure brute strength was he able to yank free. By the time he regained his footing, Jiān advanced the attack again, swiping at him with at least a dozen flails of water that wove a dance of impenetrable defense around her and drove him back, never allowing a split second's rest.

Yǎn-sui smirked inwardly as he retreated; she was getting overconfident. He slewed around and landed on the bank in a single bound just as she directed all the streams of water to collapse on him. Before she could recover, he sprinted up the bank to a jutting overhang of rock and leapt high out over the river. Just as gravity reclaimed him, he unleashed his fire-breath, throwing up a towering wall of steam just short of where Jiān stood. He landed silently in the concealing cloud and lightly tapped her arm with the flat of his blade, signaling the brief bout had ended in his favor.

"Tch, I keep forgetting that I have surround you with water before you get a chance to do that," Jiān said, clearly annoyed with herself as she dispersed the lingering mist with wave of her hand. "You're moving a lot faster today, though. Am I getting that much better or are you still having trouble fighting on water?"

"Mostly the former, more of the latter than I like," he replied.

Jiān pursed her lip, cradling her chin between her thumb and forefinger. "That doesn't make any sense," she said, shaking her head, "The water is my will and you share it – you should have no difficulty at all."

"You do remember that I am both demon and of fire, don't you?" he asked, wondering if he should be annoyed or insulted.

"You know, you keep going on and on about that," Jiān said, almost talking to herself, "What exactly makes you so sure fire and water are not supposed to work together?"

"Because that's how it is; that's what this whole War is about," he said, decidedly annoyed now, "Just because you wish it to be different doesn't mean that Nature automatically realigns into Harmony and…"

"I'm not asking it to, I'm just asking you to try and think outside of terms of conflict between Fire and Water and see if you can't find any middle ground there, a… a balance between…!" She paused, eyes flying wide in wonder. "You know… ever think that "balance" might just be "compromise" by another name?"

"… what?" Yǎn-sui asked, too bewildered for the moment to be annoyed.

"Or how about "complement"?" Jiān continued excitedly, apparently unaware she had lost the other participant in the conversation, "I mean, you've been able to teach me how to turn my control of the river to fight when I never thought I could, and that's only because you know both fire and water very well (granted, that's because you're really good at killing water gods and spirits, but still…)! Both of us working together managed to get you to walk on water, why can't that be the answer to you being able to wield lightning? If harmony or balance or whatever is what's necessary to use it safely, why can't we figure out a way to make demonic and divine, Fire and Water, work to our advantage, even substitute for…!"

"Hold it!" Yǎn-sui yelled, crashing Tiào-fěi's crossguards together with the sound of a temple bell striking. Jiān yipped and clapped her hands over her ears, shooting Yǎn-sui an affronted look. "You're getting a little ahead of yourself, milady…"

"You use that word more like a scolding than a term of respect, I've noticed," she interrupted, refusing to yield the floor, "Look, it's only an idea I have, we can keep sparring, I just want you to think about fo- someone's on the river." She moved past him, eyes fixated upriver. The silver threads of her chi spun together in thick chords to zero in on the intruder. "They're using ice. Punga."

"Track him; I will cover the sky and land," Yǎn-sui said, moving behind her so that they stood back-to-back, Tiào-fěi at the ready, tongues of blue fire flickering into existence. Their current position was equidistant from both banks, neutralizing any land-based attack. He scanned the sky and tasted the air, expanding his awareness. If Anu was in the vicinity, he was hovering somewhere above the cloud cover. On the periphery of his consciousness, like a shadow in the corner of his eye, he caught the impression of Punga's presence. It was muted, not at all like that of a demon entering battle.

"He's moving pretty slowly, like he wants to give us time to know he's there," Jiān mentioned in a tense voice a moment later. Yǎn-sui sensed her puzzlement.

"Are there any humans nearby?" he asked.

There was a rustling sound as Jiān shook her head, the brim of her hat brushing against his back. "No. There is a group upriver of him, but he's far enough ahead of them that he'll reach us before they come upon him. Should I try grabbing him while he's still out there?"

Yǎn-sui considered. "It appears he has some business with us; best not to show our hand until we figure out who's with him. You can raise a swell of water if you feel like it, encourage him to move along smartly."

"Maybe he's coming to surrender," Jiān suggested with a laugh. She was trembling.

"Don't get too eager, and don't get nervous," he murmured to her, "Be as calm as the placid lake until it's time to strike, it's in your nature."

"Do you realize how incredibly ironic that statement is, coming from you?" she asked, laughing again, but this time with genuine mirth. She straightened, laughter cut short. "All right. He's here."

Yǎn-sui had already moved to stand beside her. As Punga emerged into view, he immediately sheathed his weapon. "He is marked with the Sign of Herald; "parley," if you prefer," Yǎn-sui explained to Jiān, who was glancing up at him out of the corner of her eye with a rather dubious expression on her face. "Speak, Punga. And stay where you are; I will consider another step forward an invitation to suspend the Sign."

"Listen, black-mane, if it were up to me I'd shove my sickle up your ass right now, Sign or no Sign," Punga growled irritably, curling his lip and scratching at the pair of overlapping circles painted on his browridge with a claw. He was conspicuously devoid of visible weapons, as required by one bearing the Sign of Herald, and seemed all the more ill-tempered for it. "Because of you, I have to run this peon errand instead of that limp-brained puppy."

"Your fault for letting him off his leash," Yǎn-sui pointed out, folding his arms.

"Go jump in a bunghole and rot," Punga retorted boredly.

"What manner of parley do you want with us, or did you just come to trade insults with Yǎn-sui?" Jiān demanded in a stern voice.

Punga's eye widened as it roved over the Signs scribed on her face. "Well, well, well… either the black-mane's got a sicker sense of humor than I thought or you felt like taunting me, chicky."

Jiān bridled, then breathed out forcefully. "Is there something you need from us, Punga? If not, please go away, your presence on my river is unwanted."

The ice-demon chuckled nastily. "Unless you can raise the dead or hand over your daddy, chicky, you've got nothing I'm interested in. My superior, on the other hand, decided to make this all nice and official." He coughed and rattled off in a desultory manner: "Let it be known any and all those under the benign protection of Jiān, goddess of this river, etcetera, etcetera, or in service thereto aforementioned, that upon the rise of Agni's eye succeeding the descent of La's blinded lantern, that they shall face us on the field of battle with no quarter given or taken. Until that time, hostilities will be suspended in preparation. That is all." He paused, considered. "But if you feel like inviting slaughter on all those frightened koala-sheep while they're strung out, do please, try and start something. Now." He clicked his tongue and beckoned them with his paw.

"Why are you doing this?" Yǎn-sui asked, straining against the urge to answer Punga's provocation with a short blast of his fire-breath.

"Yeah… not in my job description to tell you," the ice-demon drawled, scratching at his beard, "So anyway… we clear on this? You got five days, then we come for blood, death, and destruction; you know, all the fun stuff for us demons."

"… We understand," Jiān replied coldly with a curt nod, "Just make certain you and your friends understand that you have underestimated my people and you will pay dearly for that mistake."

Yǎn-sui did not particularly care for the way Punga leered at her, nor the way his blanched eye kept flicking over the blood-marks. "I'll be sure to relay that message, Goddess. Don't think me forward, but you remind me more of your father than your mother."

"What are you…?!" Jiān gasped, lunging forward as Punga vanished under the surface of the water. "Gone, he's gone," she said bleakly a few moments later, the net of chi fading beneath her, "He must have gone back on land."

"Most likely," Yǎn-sui agreed, staring upriver. 'Eyes watching, I can sense them. Punga was not alone after all. But how…?' The memory of a stark white face and shadowed eyes half-veiled by mist and nothingness in the place of terror lanced through his mind; he recoiled mentally, then embraced it. 'The fifth Oh talked of… Punga's "superior." He must want this truce badly if he risked exposure simply to ensure Punga did not repeat Uutu's mistake. Have I played right into his hands, gathering the humans in one place, ensuring that Jiān will meet them head on in order to protect "her people"?'

"Yǎn-sui, come on; we have sparring to do." Jiān's voice, reverberating with taut anger, jarred him back to reality. "I don't want to have made an empty boast to Punga."

"… No, we can't have that, not if I want to keep my reputation intact," he said, shoving the dire thoughts aside for the moment.

Jiān attempted to smile, but managed only a pathetic quirk of her lips. "Yǎn-sui… what do you think he wants from Tui? From… my father?"

A/N: Yǎn-sui's philosophical journey toward accepting humans as maybe not such a pathetic bunch after all is somewhat cliché, but I'll be darned if it's not a fun plot. HOWEVER, I can't resist throwing some speedbumps in the way - it just seems in Yǎn-sui's nature that Life is a zero-sum game, and as far as he's concerned, Jiān tips the scales. For now.

Next up, Punga has his own (narrative) chapter. Yay, plot point!