Korra squinted against the darkness, clenching one fist behind her, filling it with the energy of flame. Slowly, as silently as she could, she approached the gnarled old tree. She glanced over her shoulder to see Asami sitting up on her bedroll, watching her. Her look was inexpressive, but Korra could tell by means other than sight that Asami was trying her best to keep a vacant face. She wondered if Koh could tell, too.
If that were the case, both of them would be losing their faces tonight. Korra clenched her jaw, wiping any emotion from her countenance, and reassured herself that Koh was only concerned with faces. He could not read the heart, or so Korra hoped. That's what she was going to have to believe if she was going to confront him.
She stilled her breathing, drawing in, out, in, trying to collect herself, thinking of what the old White Lotus firebending masters taught her—that strength and calm comes from the breath. Everything begins and ends with the breath. A tiny knife of flame appeared from her waiting fist, illuminating her surroundings. It flickered eagerly, ready to turn into a violent conflagration should Korra wish it.
She stepped over the massive roots of the old, dead tree. She turned her body every few seconds, just to make sure she was not approached from behind. Any look of surprise could cost her her face. She stepped around the colossal, petrified trunk and stopped in her tracks when she heard that too-familiar clicking of Koh's innumerable feet.
"Avatar." The voice was sibilant, soft, more than a little pleased with itself. A shiver ran up her spine, making her hair stand on end, but her face showed no fear. "It's been a while." A shadow hovering in the expansive branches fell across her, and an absurdly long insectile body slithered down from above. Each armored segment, flecked with wiry hair and thicker than she could spread her arms, slipped past her eye, one by one, as if the spirit was eager to display its size to her. She tried not to look intimidated.
The shadowy form twisted and clicked its way across the petrified bark of the massive tree, wrapped around itself and leaned toward her. A face smooth as a doll's, eyes rimmed with black, appeared before her, smiling slightly.
"What brings you to this neck of the woods?" Koh asked. He stared into her face, waiting for one twitch that would make his day.
"I'd ask the same of you," Korra answered, quelling the tremble in her voice.
"How solicitous of you to inquire," Koh's tongue slithered outward, nearly touching her nose. "There has been a change of scenery around these parts, as you may have noticed." With these words, Koh's face twisted into an unfamiliar shape—it took Korra a moment to realize that he was now wearing the visage of a vervet monkey. Korra blinked, forcing herself to show no surprise. The monkey continued where Koh left off, in the same blood-chilling voice: "You see, the recent change in background suits me quite well. With each tree that succumbs to this lovely new malady, my domain expands. So, dear Avatar, you have no right to ask me what I am doing here. You are standing on my doorstep, demanding to know why I am occupying my own realm. You were always presumptuous."
With a flick of shadow, Koh's face returned to what Korra assumed was his natural one. He slithered away from her, feet clicking irritably, and she followed him, letting her little sliver of fire light the way. She tried to conjure up questions, insults, anything, that would keep him still, keep him away from Asami. "Tell me something, Koh." She tried to match his formality and calmness of tone. "Are you responsible for this blight?"
She was only about halfway down his segmented body, but she heard his laugh echo off the blasted tree. "I would hardly call it a blight. But no, I am not. It seems that fate smiles on me." He turned quickly to glance back at her, just to make sure she was not making a face behind his back. "You, however, have seemed to have lost favor in the eyes of the cosmos. Given your transgressions, that is no surprise."
Korra stumbled after him, trying desperately to keep her mouth taut and her eyes empty. He was large, quick, and had many more legs than she did, so it was no wonder that he made it to Asami before she could catch up. She suspected he knew she was there all along, and was biding his time. Koh seemed like the type to take pleasure in toying with others.
Asami looked from Korra to Koh, keeping her face straight. She closed her eyes, as if not seeing them would help her keep her expression empty.
Koh slithered toward Asami, and Korra let the tiny fire in her hand expand, forming a long whip of flame. Koh did not seem the least bit concerned with the Avatar's threatening stance. He only clicked around Asami, examining her.
"I have been so hungry, locked up in my tiny tree in the north," he hissed. "I haven't eaten a face in decades. And now you bring me this one. What a wonderful gift."
"She's not a gift," Korra said. "People are not for giving and taking."
Koh released a restrained chuckle. "Oh, how things have changed up there in your human world. You do so like to pretend your morals are absolute. When I was a few hundred years younger, a human was a perfectly reasonable gift. Anyone who was anyone owned a few. Even some of the Avatars." He slithered a little too close to Asami.
"Don't touch her," Korra snapped. She did not do a wonderful job of hiding her anger.
"Or you'll set me on fire? Then I'm afraid she'll be coming with me into the inferno." He laughed, lowering his head to Asami's cheek. She sat cross-legged, eyes closed, breathing slowly. Korra could nearly hear the poor girl's heart thump out of her chest. She lowered her whip of fire and it returned to a flame in her fist. She couldn't attack Koh, not now, when he was so close to Asami. But as long as she kept still, expressionless, she would be fine. They would both get out alive, with their faces intact—Korra hoped.
"I do not often brag, but I am not the only one that considers myself an unmatched connoisseur of faces. And this face you have brought me is superb." He narrowed his tiny eyes at Asami, as if dissecting every feature. "High brows, thin nose, an intelligent curl of the mouth." Koh glanced up at Korra, smiling. "Is she your lover?"
With a rush of horror, Korra realized her face was reddening. She could hold her brow still, her mouth tight, but she could not stop the rush of blood that flooded her cheeks. Flushed, it took only a moment for her to realize that the heated face she had now was an expression good enough for Koh.
That was all he needed. He drew his gaze away from Asami and rushed toward her. He slithered to her faster than she had ever thought possible with a body his size, and she had only a split second to summon all her strength and launch herself out of his way.
As she rolled across the gnarled roots, she heard Asami's cry. So did Koh, and when Korra rolled to her feet, she saw that he had lost interest in her. Instead, he was making his way toward Asami, trotting leisurely, as if there was nothing Korra could do to stop him from acquiring his intended target.
Asami's face was frozen in fear, eyes wide, mouth open. Koh did not take his eyes from hers, and approached her like a snake gliding toward its paralyzed prey. Korra could tell that try as she might, Asami could not move, she could not force her face back into neutrality. This, she realized, was how the ancient face-stealer hunted.
So it was up to her. She took a deep breath and summoned all of her strength. She called for the great spirit inside her to spring forth, lighting her eyes and pouring strength into her muscles. She took a breath and launched herself forward, pushing off a rising column of earth she had mustered from the depths of the soil. She flew toward Koh, glowing with fury.
Right as she landed on the giant spirit's back, Koh latched onto Asami, pressing his face against hers, almost as if in a kiss. Korra's heart wrenched at the sight, and she lifted her arms, conjuring two spears of flame. With all her strength, she plunged the fire in to the soft spot between two of Koh's armored scales. He drew back, writhing in insectile loops, trying to shake Korra off him. She was thrown to the ground, but managed to weave a soft patch of air to halt her fall. She sprang to her feet and glanced to Asami, still paralyzed, still staring ahead in fear. Her face looked blurred, submerged in haze, as if a permanent shadow had fallen across it. Korra could only see one eye, open wide, her mouth agape in an interrupted scream—the rest was clouded in darkness. She could tell that although Koh had detached for the time being, he had already managed to get a taste of that face. And if she didn't do something within the next few seconds, he would finish his meal.
Out of the darkness whipped the hard, powerful tail of the spirit insect. It caught Korra's shins and she flew back, smashing into the trunk of the petrified tree. Blinded with pain, she fell to the ground, landing on her chest. When she looked up, eyesight blurred by the glow of the ancient spirit inside her, she saw Koh move back toward Asami.
Korra knew she was too far away to stop him before he reached her, but she sprang for them both anyway. Mindlessly, furiously, she summoned a wall of flame behind her, but she was too afraid for Asami's safety to thrust it forward. She seemed trapped between either relinquishing Asami's face to Koh, or burning them both to a crisp.
She stopped running, a horrible idea hitting her like a boulder. She changed her stance, let go her breath, extinguished her fire, and began to sweep her arms.
I'm sorry, Asami. This isn't going to feel good.
With a wave of her hand, she coaxed what little air was left in Asami's lungs out of her mouth. From afar, she guided the breath gently from her throat and let it dissipate into the atmosphere. She watched Asami, whose fear and paralysis already deprived her of air, collapse in senselessness. The look of terror that had stained her face left with her awareness, and she again fell into a neutral expression.
By the time Koh reached her, she had toppled to the ground, either unconscious or dead—Korra did not have time to be sure. Koh hesitated, apparently now uncertain if by the ancient, incomprehensible rules he followed, he could still take her face. In the few seconds that he took to reexamine his options, Korra swung the edge of her hand forward and threw a blade of air at him. It hit him square in the middle, pushing the entirety of his weight sideways. He rolled, swaying, legs twitching in the empty air, writhing like a massive earthworm. Korra stepped forward, stomping her foot and raising a fist. A pillar of earth came rumbling from beneath Koh's body, striking him in the soft underbelly.
He let out a chilling screech, twisting in pain. Korra had no time to watch him wriggle in agony—instead she dashed toward Asami, still lying motionless in the dirt. She knelt down and threw Asami over her shoulder, barely even bending under the dead weight of her limp body. Her vision was blurred, her muscles were burning, her heart beating furiously.
From the corner of her eye, she saw the textbook on botany sitting next to the open pack. Even through the panic, through the fear and anger, a voice in her head came through, ringing in her ears. If you fail to save that book, Asami will kill you.
Korra, seeing that Koh was still worming his way back upright, bent and grabbed the book by the corner of its worn cover. With Asami draped over one shoulder, the book in the opposite arm, she began to run. She swept through the trees, counting on the darkness to cover her trail. She did not know where she would go, but she knew she had to get there fast.
As she sprinted through the forest, she heard the swiftly pattering feet of Koh echo behind her. She heard him mutter, twist, pursue them through the darkness, and tried to pick up her pace. She knew she wouldn't be able to outrun the spirit, but if she could find some high ground, a hiding spot, someplace where she could turn and fight and force him to retreat…
Instead of coming across any of those advantageous structures, she found herself at the edge of a canyon. Black rock jutted over the precipice, framing a rushing river below. It was shallower than the other canyon she had seen around these woods, but there was still no way they could survive the jump into the water if Korra couldn't bend any elements. She turned around, searching the forest for any sign of Koh.
Leaves rustled, shadows slid past one another, and she knew he was approaching. She could almost make out his black shape against the greenish grey of the dark trees. When she spied his round, porcelain face emerging from the haze of black, twisted with anger, she knew what she had to do.
She needed a hand to bend. She threw the botany book on the ground, tossing away the only chance they had to cure the blight. She apologized briefly to an inert Asami, clenched a fist, and threw them both off the edge of the cliff.