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Too much air and you’ll fight skittishly, always on the defensive. Too much earth, and—are you even listening?”
She learned to react automatically to these. She learned to predict Jiang’s moves seconds in advance, to read from the tilt of his torso and the flicker of his eyes what he was about to do next.
A crack like a thunderbolt echoed beneath her.
“You have to pledge Lore,” Jiang continued excitedly. “No one—no one, not even Altan, picked things up this fast.”
and she hadn’t realized how precious his attention was until she had scared him away.
“I wonder how you people do it,” Kitay mused. “You know, actually having to try to remember things. Your lives sound so difficult.” “I will murder you with this ink brush,” Rin grumbled.
Altan’s voice was surprisingly melodious, soft and deep.
“She’s not accusing anyone of anything,” Jiang interrupted serenely. It was the first time he’d spoken since the start of her exam.
The rest of the class had learned their fundamentals from Jun. They moved the same way, sank into the same default patterns when nervous.
And Venka wasn’t the victory she wanted.
Nezha was taking her seriously, Rin realized. He took her as an equal.
Rin had now lasted longer than any of Nezha’s previous opponents, and something had become clear to her: He wasn’t invincible.
She couldn’t breathe. Black tinged the edges of her vision—black, and then scarlet. An awful rage filled her, consumed her thoughts entirely.
She wanted Nezha to hurt. She wanted Nezha punished.
Everything looked red: the trees, the stones, Jiang most of all. He flared in front of her like a torch.
“Help me,” she gasped. “Help.” He leaned forward and cupped her head in his hands. “Look at me.”
His eyes rolled up in the back of his head and he began uttering indecipherable noises, syllables that didn’t resemble any language she knew.
“Congratulations,” Jiang said. “You’re this year’s champion.”
She wanted that power again. She wanted what Jiang could teach her.
Jiang’s features did not soften, but neither did he get up to leave. “No. It was my fault. I didn’t realize how much like Altan you are.”
“But your mind has just suffered a very particular trauma. The best thing you can do for yourself now is rest. Let the experience germinate. Let your mind heal.”
Except the Monkey Province. Too spicy. It’s not good for you. I also don’t do stinky tofu. My only constraint is what’s on the market, but I can get just about anything at the import store. Any favorite recipes? Lobster? Or water chestnuts? You name it, I’ll cook it.”
“Sixty-five years ago, in the wake of the First Poppy War, the people of Nikan suffered under the weight of their Federation oppressors.
Nikan lay sick, feverish under the clouds of the poppy drug.”
Mothers sold their infants for a pound of meat, for a bolt of cloth. Fathers killed their children rather than watch them suffer. Yes, that’s right. Children just like you!

