Chapter 20
By the time Altan catches up to Nekana, she's reached the bridge that leads back to the road.
"Where are you going?" he yells at her back. "You don't even know where Temurin's house is!" He walks as quickly as he dares across the wet, mossy logs.
"I knew you'd follow me," Nekana says, not even bothering to turn around. Damn her. She just shows up with no explanation, reeking of yapian, not caring how worried he's been, demanding that he keep her little secret…
Her foot slips. Nekana quickly regains her balance, but a horrible idea blossoms in Altan's mind. She can't go back to Temurin's house smelling like this—her skin, her clothes, everything stinks with that distinctive poison. So before he can overthink it, Altan takes one step forward. And shoves Nekana as hard as he can off the bridge.
Her garbled scream of fury is horrifying but brief before she hits the water face-first. With a loud splash, she disappears beneath the murky water.
Sacred spirits. Can she even swim? Altan swears loudly and starts to take off his boots. He can't swim, but should he jump in? What was he thinking? He's killed her, he knows it. Several more long seconds pass by, and she still hasn't emerged. She's dead. Oh spirits.
And then, like a swamp creature of legend, she bursts from the water on the other side of the bridge, hot steam billowing around her. Nekana lands on the bridge heavily, apparently propelled out of the water by the two blue flames flickering in her hands. Blue?
"You," she hisses at Altan. Her hair is wet and matted, and her eyes drip with venom. "You dare—you presume to—" She seems at a loss for words, advances on Altan with terrible intent.
So Altan makes the only reasonable choice he available to him. He throws himself into the river. As he falls, he's rewarded by Nekana's expression of complete shock.
Cold. The current is almost non-existent, which is something, but Altan's coat is heavy and he struggles to claw towards the blue sky overhead. His head breaks the surface.
"Help!" he screams at Nekana before he goes back under. He resurfaces for a second time. "Help!" This time he swallows water, and his nose burns. Stupid, stupid, stupid. He hears a splash, but can't tell if it's him who made it, and who cares anyway when he's busy dying?
Then a small, firm hand grasps the back of his coat and drags him sideways. He tries to kick helpfully, but since he doesn't know which way is up or down he's not sure if he's making things better or worse. And then he feels the cool mud of the bank against his desperate fingertips and gratefully crawls to dry land. He presses his face against the grass. Sweet, sweet earth.
"You are the dumbest person alive!" Nekana's shout cuts through the water clogging his ears. "You're even more thick-headed than my brother! Why did you jump, you idiot!?"
Altan flops to his back. "I hoped you would take pity on me," he admits.
Nekana crouches over him and wrings her hair out over his face.
"No-" Water spatters into his eyes, and he blinks furiously.
"Luckily for you, I am merciful," Nekana sneers.
"You needed a bath." Altan sits up and rubs the river water from his eyes. "Spirits, Nekana, why did you do that?"
"I was just finishing what you started." Altan tries to dry his hands off on his pants, but of course every part of him is wet. And getting colder every second as the winter sun begins to set. As if she can read his mind, Nekana holds out a hand. He takes it and doesn't let go, pulling her closer.
"Tell me what happened in Bahasa," he says. Infuriating as she is, chewing yapian isn't like her. "Please, Nekana."
Her expression closes. "It doesn't matter."
Jirou swims through an icy river, soft plant matter and mud brushing his feet. His teeth are chattering, but there are fires on either bank, and he knows if he emerges the dragon-army will swallow him whole.
"Heal us," the river-spirit floating beside him says. Her skin sprouts mushrooms or weeds.
"I haven't read that part of the book yet!" Jirou splutters. His mouth fills with water. He sinks.
Underneath the surface, dead fish float. One pops opens its eyes and smiles with human teeth.
"Join the revolution, Jirou," it says. "Before the banks overflow."
The water shivers like the spirits are rattling the earth in an empty box.
The front door slides open with a sharp bang, and Jirou wakes. Ugh. Blearily, he peels his face off his anatomy textbook and lifts his head to greet his uncle, but freezes when he sees Nekana, soaking wet, dripping onto the wooden floor.
"Hello, Chicken," she says. "Studying hard?"
"I…you're wet."
Altan appears behind Nekana, also soaked from head to toe and looking remarkably unhappy for someone whose girlfriend has just turned up alive. What happened to them?
As if she could hear his thoughts, Nekana shoots a deadly glare at Altan and curls her lip. "This idiot insisted we take a swim." She pulls off her shoes and prowls into the house. "Where's your uncle's room? I need clothes."
"You could wear mine," Altan sulks.
"You're too tall," she replies cooly. "Jirou?"
Jirou stumbles up to show her the way, nearly tripping over the low table. How did she get out of Bahasa? And when? Who won? Not sure where to start, Jirou leads Nekana into the back room. Nekana rifles through Temurin's still-unpacked sack for dry clothes.
"How are you alive?" Jirou finally demands to her back. Nekana laughs bleakly and tosses one of Temurin's tunics over her shoulder.
"Because I'm sadly indestructible," she says.
"Oh." Jirou shifts awkwardly and starts to sidle out of the room. How is she so intimidating? Is this a girl thing, or just her? "I'll just leave you, then…"
"Wait." Nekana rises and looks Jirou right in the eyes. "I wanted to tell you. The Earth Kingdom army was still outside Bahasa's gates when I left."
"The liberation failed?"
"It stalled." Nekana flips her wet hair over her shoulder. "The Avatar is there now, and I'm sure he'll come up with a compromise that leaves everyone alive and unhappy."
"The Avatar?"
Nekana laughs less harshly this time. "I promise to tell you about it later, Chicken." She slides the door gently shut, and Jirou stands there dumbly for a second before he remembers she's changing. Ah.
Back in the kitchen, Altan is still struggling to escape his wet, padded cotton coat.
"What happened?" Jirou whispers, face still red. "Did she just appear from nowhere? That's so weird. And why did you take a bath in winter? Fully clothed?"
"I was chopping wood—and she smelled-ugh, can you just help me!" Altan gasps in frustration as he manages to pin his arm against his torso through a tortuous twisting of fabric.
"By the spirits, Altan…" Jirou deftly unloops the latches on Altan's coat, then takes hold of one sleeve and braces himself to pull. "Ready?"
"What is going on?"
Uncle, little Haojun, and a woman who must be Uncle's ex-wife stand in the doorway. Oh man. The woman is somewhat pretty, Jirou supposes, but with a square jaw and a sour expression. But then all three of them look sour. Jirou lets go of Altan's sleeve, and the young man stumbles back a few paces.
"Uncle, you won't believe it—"
"Is Temurin finally back?" Nekana walks in from the back room, fully dressed at least, but slouchily wearing Temurin's long-sleeve shirt and trousers. She squeezes her damp hair with a towel. "I had hoped he-oh." She halts in the middle of the room, feet bare against the tatami floor. For once Nekana seems speechless as she surveys the scene: Altan angrily flapping the wet arm of his coat, Haojun holding her mother's hand, and Temurin standing motionless with an expression of absolute horror etched on his face. Uh-oh.
"Who are these strange people?" The ex-wife looks livid. "Who have you brought into our house? Near our daughter?"
But Uncle seems to have been struck completely dumb. When he finally tears his eyes away from Nekana he stares avidly at his ex-wife, as if hoping an explanation for the unmarried and still-dripping couple would appear written on his ex's forehead. A long second stretches by. Then another. And Jirou knows he has to step in. He has to save the adults from themselves.
"Hello, Auntie," he says cheerfully. He bows to the new woman, who raises an eyebrow. "I'm Jirou, and this is my father's cousin Altan and his wife Nekana. They're on their way to the Earth Kingdom, and Uncle said they could travel with us. For safety, you know." He gives his most winsome grin.
Remarkably, Jinlian buys it. Temurin feels like his skin is crawling with fire-ants as Jinlian kissed Haojun goodbye and then tilts her head significantly towards the porch. Ah yes. Time to talk. The strange nausea that lifted for a second when he saw Nekana presses in on him again.
Outside, the sky has turned orange at the edges, and the first stars glimmer mid-horizon. The woods to the east sway with breeze and secrets. A thin, pathetic tree trunk lies abandoned outside the house; Temurin doubts it will keep the house warm for more than a night. Jinlian turns to Temurin, right hand grasping her opposite elbow like she can hold herself together.
"Where's your mother?" Jinlian asks. "Shouldn't she be here?"
"She's dyeing some blankets in town." Temurin is sure Jinlian still wants Haojun to live with her. But if she thinks she can leave him and let his daughter be raised by another man, she can think again.
"Congratulations on your marriage," Temurin says, failing to keep the bitterness from his voice. "A bit soon, but you never were one for delay."
"I don't want to fight," Jinlian sighs, twisting her hair with one hand. She always does that when she's nervous. "I'm not a monster, Temurin."
"You don't get to say that," Temurin snaps. "We haven't talked since the morning after, so you don't get to just decide it's all in the past!"
"And why haven't we talked?" Jinlian's voice is raised now, her upper lip quivering like it does when she's deeply upset. "Because you left, just like you always do!"
"I left because you betrayed me and then told me it was over!" Temurin shouts.
"You left because you were afraid of your responsibilities!"
"Spirits, do you even hear yourself?" Temurin wants to be done with this conversation, wants to be gone, because maybe once he gets away from her he won't feel like his insides are being slowly pulled apart. "I'm a traveling doctor. I can't just stay here."
"Why not?" Jinlian says. "Your daughter was here, I was here, why couldn't you just-stay?" As always, she's ablaze with emotion, her words skewering Temurin where he stands. He imagines it—being the one left behind with a baby in a small town not his own. But if that was all, why didn't she tell him? He would have stayed, if she had said something he would have stayed. His anger overwhelms his pity and curdles into disgust.
"This is a fight we should have had while we were together," Temurin says hopelessly. "I don't see any point to it now."
In town, someone bangs the drum that signals nightfall. The slow, steady beats sound funereal and final, and so are Jinlian's next words.
"I want Haojun back."
Drum. Drum. Drum. Winter nights fall early in Qima.
"Family is something you should have thought about before."
