Chapter 2
Temurin storms away from Chu's ship, fuming. How dare Chu sell his medicine to someone else? It's his own order! Not for the first time, Temurin mentally chastises himself for being naïve. Of course Chu would renege on the deal. Everyone breaks their word. Yet one would think saving Chu from a beating would merit some consideration. If Temurin hadn't intervened and defused the situation, that firebender girl might have killed Chu.
"Ungrateful, thick-wittted, cheating bastard," Temurin mutters darkly. He weaves his way through the crowd, making his way to the red-light district where Crooked Zhao and her men rule. She's the only one in Taiyang who has the knowledge, nerve, and money to hijack his medicine shipment.
Unfortunately, she's also a ruthless criminal, rumored to be backed by the Earth King himself.
For a moment, Temurin stops and contemplates just walking away from the cargo, setting off south without it. He can make his way as a doctor; he doesn't actually need this sale. But he's tired of things being stolen from him.
Ignoring the street food, vendors, and lurid red lanterns, Temurin cuts into an alley to Zhao's brothel-turned-office. Behind him, the street lamps flare into life one after the other. He'll just ask to talk to Zhao, maybe buy his shipment back. Or better yet, he could spin this theft into a better deal. Maybe Zhao would be interested in the opportunity to sell farther south…
Temurin approaches the ramshackle four-story building a knocks on the door. Even as he knocks, he has second thoughts. It's getting dark, and Temurin spent his youth studying for the Yu Dao exams, not learning how to defend himself. But the deed is done, and the door swings open, revealing a snot-nosed young man.
"I'm here to see Zhao," Temurin says quickly. "We have business to discuss."
"Temurin?" An older woman appears, and the boy who opened the door steps aside. The woman's nose crooks sharply to the left, and Temurin makes an educated guess.
"Mistress Zhao!" he says heartily. "I'm here with a business opportunity."
Crooked Zhao sizes Temurin up with clear grey eyes that match her steely crown of braids.
"Come in," she orders.
A bit nervously, Temurin brushes past the doorman and follows Zhao down a narrow hallway. Despite the building's shabby exterior, the inside of Zhao's apartment is clean and well lit. Zhao's hair is spiked with jade hairpins which rattle softly with her every step. Her tunic is an Earth Kingdom green, embroidered with a large golden coin: the sigil of the king reigning in Ba Sing Se. Temurin remembers his grandmother used to have a coin like it, a relic from her youth in the Earth Kingdom.
The rumors must be true, Temurin thinks. She must have ties to the Earth King. Only a true loyalist would blatantly dress like an Earth Kingdom noblewoman while living in the Fire Nation colonies.
Zhao enters her office and sits behind a large granite desk, gesturing for Temurin to take a seat opposite her. But before Temurin's even settled, Zhao speaks.
"I've heard of you, Temurin," she says, folding her hands. "You're that young man who left Qima village to study medicine at Yu Dao University."
"I wasn't aware that was public knowledge," Temurin says carefully.
"Your mother is from the Fire Nation, but your father—"
"His family is from the Earth Kingdom," Temurin finishes quickly. For once, he's thankful that he looks like a pure Earth Kingdom citizen.
"And for the past five years, you've travelled around the Colonies as a doctor, leaving your wife and daughter behind in Qima." Zhao raises an iron eyebrow, disapproving.
"I didn't come here to discuss my parentage or my personal life," snaps Temurin, flushing. "I came here because you went to Chu behind my back and took my shipment."
He inhales deeply. "I want to buy it back."
"I'm not going to return your package just because you ask," says Zhao scathingly. "You know that as well as I do. Why did you come here?"
Temurin leans forward in his chair.
"I'm a licensed doctor. I have access to legal sources of medicine that you don't have. And since I'm constantly on the move, I can help you sell your product in multiple towns across the Colonies." He smiles. "I've been doing this on a small scale for years already. And if the rumors about the Colonies becoming independent are true—"
"Independent?" sneers Zhao. "You believe that?"
"Whatever the fate of the Colonies, changes are coming," Temurin points out. "And with change comes confusion. You can take advantage of whatever transition is coming to expand your sales to the south. I can help you."
"I know all about your little side operation," says Zhao. "That's why I bothered to talk to you today." She clears her throat and glances at a map of the Colonies hanging on the wall to his right. Her eyes glisten with an emotion Temurin can't read.
"You could help me acquire more product," Temurin adds. "I'd sell for you, using my contacts, and we'd split the proceeds."
Zhao is silent for several seconds.
"I know what happened in Qima," she says softly. She turns her head away from the map and stares at Temurin. "When family betrays us…it is a death from which we can never recover."
Temurin feels his face go hot and then very cold. He grips the handles of his chair.
"I don't see how that incident is relevant."
"It is relevant," Zhao says, rising calmly, "because now you understand that loyalty is everything. Those who lack loyalty…are utterly despicable. They are worms."
Temurin clenches his teeth.
"I don't hide my loyalties," Zhao says, waving a hand deliberately. "I have no need to. To whom are you loyal, Temurin?"
Temurin laughs shortly. To myself. To the spirits of neutrality. To no one, anymore. "To you, if you take me in."
Zhao searches Temurin's face carefully.
"Very well, Temurin," she replies. "You will travel south and sell my products." She picks up a quill and dips it in ink, beginning to write quickly. "You will also write me regularly, reporting on the political climate in each of the towns you visit. The post offices should still be reliable.
"Keep to your regular route. The whole point of hiring you is to have someone who doesn't draw suspicion," Zhao says breezily. She rolls up the paper and hands it to Temurin.
"The terms of our agreement."
"Thank you," Temurin bows.
"One more thing. I like you, Temurin, but I need to make something clear." Zhao lifts a bronze bell from her desk and rings it purposefully.
"Your audacity today is compelling. But your attitude, willful self-assurance, and chip on your shoulder will be your downfall. You think you've been wronged; well, so have we all." Four men enter the room and grab Temurin's arms. He struggles, but can't break their grip.
"Hey, what the—"
"Don't let your pride and greed get in your way, Temurin. If you prove disloyal, no official medical degree from a fancy university will save you." The genteel woman from earlier is gone, replaced by someone utterly ruthless. Zhao nods to the men holding Temurin.
"Give him fifteen pounds of the product. And teach him a light lesson."
Dumfounded, Temurin finds himself being dragged back down the halls, his boots scuffing the pristine floors. The snot-nosed man who first opened the door still sits in the hall, watching Temurin slide past while he eats a bowl of noodles. The doorman raises his chopsticks as if to say goodbye.
The men throw Temurin out into the alley, and his back slams against a waste bin. He bounces to the ground. Did Zhao just hire him and order him beaten? Temurin scrambles to his feet in the shaded alley. He smiles winningly, or as winningly as one can when covered in old food and bits of newspaper.
"Gentlemen," he says to Zhao's henchmen. "I'm sure you don't really have to—"
But then all the air is knocked out of him, and Temurin bends over, gasping. Another man punches Temurin in the ribs, and a third kicks him in the back of his knees. Temurin collapses to the alley cobblestones, mouth gaping like a fish as he tries to draw air. The bustling main street is within sight, but there's no way Temurin can escape to safety with four men surrounding him. The street lanterns at the alley entrance swim before his eyes, obscured only by the black outline of a slender figure. Temurin squints, eyes watering with pain.
It's that girl. The girl who broke Chu's nose. She's a few meters away, and Zhao's men haven't noticed her. She looks at Temurin with cold calculation, golden eyes narrowed. Temurin thinks about calling for help, but decides against it. Surely Zhao won't kill him. He will survive. Hopefully with all his teeth intact.
But then the girl stares directly and nods, her eyes determined. Faster than Temurin believes possible, she runs down the alley. Targeted blasts of fire hit each of Zhao's men, and they fall to the ground, some screaming as their bare skin blisters. At first, Temurin is relieved they are no longer smashing him into the ground. But then he's horrified.
He smells burnt flesh.
Temurin hopes the wounds are superficial. Even if Temurin is a disappointing doctor, he doesn't want to see others hurt. Yet more importantly, will Zhao see this impromptu battle as planned disloyalty?
One of Zhao's men gets back to his feet, but the girl is on him before he has a chance to draw a weapon. With the palm of her hand, she strikes upward at the bridge of his nose. Spinning, she kicks another of Zhao's cronies in the gut, and he stumbles back and draws a knife. Not seeing the weapon, the girl turns away and expertly immobilizes the other two soldiers through a series of brutal kicks to their knees.
It's horrible, yet incredible. But then Temurin remembers the man with the knife. Zhao's crony throws the blade, and Temurin yells a belated warning.
"Duck!" he cries. The girl instinctively flinches back, and the knife grazes the side of her arm before lodging itself in a waste bin. She sucks in a sharp breath. Temurin throws himself clumsily at the man, knocking him to the ground before he can pull out another knife. Their opponent's head smacks dully against the ground. He lays still. Temurin checks his pulse, heart beating fast. He lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding when he sense the slow throb of a steady heart.
The alley is full of unconscious bodies. Temurin pushes himself up, breathing hard. Zhao might really kill him for this. And worse, their deal might be off.
"Why did you do that?" Temurin demands. "I had everything in hand!"
"Say thank you, peasant," she answers bitingly. "If you hadn't fallen into my hands, you'd be bleeding in a garbage can." He words are clipped, her face haughty. Is she some kind of bounty hunter? Or an assassin sent by another dealer?
"We should get out of here," says Temurin. He'll apologize to Zhao later, when there's some distance between himself and Zhao's enforcers. But first…Temurin ducks down and grabs the sack containing at least fifteen pounds of yapian. One of Zhao's men must have dropped it when the girl arrived.
"We should leave," agrees the girl. "But it seems…" She touches the shallow cut on her arm with her index finger, then tastes her own blood.
"It seems I've been poisoned." She sways.
Someone roars with laughter near the entrance of the alley. Nearly a dozen young men, all with the same haircut, are stumbling towards Zhao's building.
"It…burns…" the girl says thickly. She glares at Temurin.
"Peasant, you owe me your life. You're a doctor. Heal me."
There's no time to explain the intricacies of his exchange with Zhao to this girl. And even though she has caused a lot of trouble, she did try to save his life. So when her eyes roll back and she topples over in a faint, Temurin catches her. She's surprisingly light for someone so ferocious. Quickly, Temurin ducks behind a garbage bin as the crowd of men crowd down the alleyway, clearly drunk, and stagger into Zhao's office. The door slams.
The girl moans indignantly in his arms.
"I have multiple antidotes in my wagon. You'll be fine," Temurin says. As a short term measure, he rips off part of her sleeve and binds her wound, then grunts as he slings her over his shoulder.
He wonders if she'll be able to pay.
