There was no mistaking that scar, running from just under Mangsut’s ear to his chin. No mistaking that scraggly beard, that self-important gait that set his greasy, shoulder-length hair bouncing.

  “Hey,” Mamoru’s voice was like an annoying insect buzzing around Yipachai’s ear. “We’re not there yet. We still need to get you some tahashi.”

  “I don’t want any,” Yipachai heard himself say, his feet finally unlocking and lurching into motion, in the direction Mangsut had gone.

  Yipachai couldn’t let him get away.

  He ducked through the crowd, doing his best to keep Mangsut’s back in his line of sight. The bandit was making his way northward, the opposite direction that Mamoru had been leading.

  “Yipachai!” Mamoru suddenly grabbed onto Yipachai’s arm. “What are you doing?”

  Yipachai tried to jerk his arm free, but that Banqilun grip was strong. “Nothing! Just let me go and go on without me.”

  “No way. First you stop like a moonstruck idiot in the middle of a crowd, and then you ignored me like I didn’t exist. You’re acting strange, even for a Hetanzou.”

  “And what do you know about Hetanzou?” Yipachai snapped, trying vainly to free himself from Mamoru’s grasp. “Maybe this is just how we are all the time. Let—me—go!”

  Mamoru finally released his grip, and Yipachai stumbled back a few steps before regaining his balance. He spun around a few times, searching the crowd for Mangsut, but to no avail.

  “Better now?”

  “No, I’m not better! You let him get away!”

  “What are you talking about?” Mamoru’s eyes were wide, his temper barely concealed behind his stony expression. “I let who get away?”

  “No one,” Yipachai said, starting off to the north, the direction Mangsut had gone. “It’s nothing.”

  Mamoru followed him. “No, no you have to tell me. I let you go.”

  Yipachai dodged around a flame mhonglun that popped into existence just in front of him. “No, it doesn’t matter.”

  “Just tell me,” Mamoru said. He shouldered past a couple that had stopped suddenly to hold out offerings to the mhonglun. “Why are you being so secretive?”

  Yipachai whirled around to face Mamoru. “Because he killed someone I care about,” he hissed. “Alright?”

  Mamoru blinked slowly. “Come again?”

  Yipachai groaned, then stood up on his toes to try and get a better view of the direction the bandit had gone. “I used to be an acolyte at a monastery in the Het Kingdom. The man I was chasing killed my elder and kidnapped me.”

  “And he brought you here?”

  “No, he—it’s a long story. But we can’t let him get away. He has a ship full of friends who are just like him.”

  Mamoru shook his head. “If he’s that dangerous, we need to call the city watch.”

  “No!” Yipachai exclaimed, causing Mamoru to take a quick step backwards. “I mean, this is something I have to handle on my own.”

  The Banqilun let out a low whistle. “You Hetanzou really are crazy.”

  “I know, we’re completely insane. Now are you going to help me find him or not?”

  Mamoru held up his hands in a placating gesture. “Alright, alright. I’ll help you. What does he look like?”

  Yipachai immediately pushed forward, leading Mamoru back to the north. “Hetanzou, hair to his shoulders, scar from his ear to his chin.” He traced the line on his own face, uncaring if Mamoru could see clearly from behind him. He had to find that bandit.

  Had to make him pay for what he’d done to Elder Satsanan.

  But how was Yipachai supposed to find Mangsut in a crowd like this? He needed more eyes.

  He reached out with his mind, seeking Pingou. Perhaps the heron could fly above the busy street as a lookout.

  From that distance, Pingou’s mind was barely a whisper on the edges of Yipachai’s consciousness.

  Pingou, can you hear me?

  No response.

  Pingou?

  Still nothing.

  Yipachai was still too far away. Inwardly, he kicked himself for not practicing long-distance bonds. Lan Kuanghi grew much more difficult the farther he was from the beast.

  That left only himself and Mamoru. They pushed through the Hanzonami crowds, doing their best to move with the flow of traffic when they could, but often found themselves butting into groups of people walking the other way.

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  There still wasn’t any sign of Mangsut. Yipachai occasionally tried jumping, or standing on his toes, in an attempt to get a better vantage, but all those flaming tall Banqilun made it impossible to see where he was going, let alone find another Hetanzou.

  “Is that him?” Mamoru asked, pointing.

  Yipachai tried to follow the line Mamoru had indicated, but he didn’t see anything. “I don’t know, I can’t see anything.”

  “He’s got a little bit of a beard, wearing sailor’s clothes…”

  “That sounds right!”

  “This way, then!” Mamoru at last seemed to pick up some of the urgency that Yipachai felt.

  After a few more minutes of weaving between people, Yipachai caught another glimpse of him. He breathed a sigh of relief, thanking the mhonglun that they hadn’t lost him after all.

  Mangsut had stopped at a small market to purchase something that looked like those little pieces of fried bread Yipachai had eaten for breakfast.

  Yipachai watched as Mangsut fished a couple of small coins out of a pouch at his waist to hand to the vendor and received a paper-wrapped bundle in return.

  Such a normal interaction. Like any other Sentient would have done. Yipachai had expected Mangsut to throw an elbow at anyone who got in his way, or to have drawn his sword to run someone through by now. Only the bandit wasn’t wearing his sword. Yipachai didn’t see him carrying any weapons at all, save for a small l’anti wand tucked into his belt.

  But why didn’t he look more evil?

  “What do you want to do?” Mamoru whispered in his ear. The Banqilun’s eyes remained fixed on Mangsut.

  “I’m not sure,” Yipachai said, and he truly wasn’t. Should he try to tell the city watch? Would they believe the word of a Hetanzou teenager? And if they did, then Yipachai wouldn’t be the one to bring Mangsut to justice.

  And he didn’t think he could live with that.

  Yipachai cursed, uttering an oath that would’ve made Elder Satsanan give him one of her worst I’m disappointed in you looks. But at that moment, he didn’t care. He should have brought his sword with him into the city. Instead, it was locked in the chest at the head of his sleeping mat.

  “He’s got a wand, you know,” Mamoru continued.

  “I know, I know, I’m thinking…We’ll just have to try and sneak up on him when he’s alone.”

  “Are you crazy? Even a Hetanzou could blast us to pieces if he catches us.”

  “Then we’ll just have to take his wand before he can grab it.”

  Mamoru shook his head. “You’re out of your mind. You’re going to get us killed.”

  “Have some faith,” Yipachai said. That’s what Elder Satsanan would’ve told him.

  “In your delusions?”

  “Just shut up and keep your eyes on him.”

  Yipachai ducked behind Mamoru as Mangsut turned around, then counted to ten before following the bandit as he rejoined the flow of people northward. Mamoru fell in behind him, his presence more of a comfort than Yipachai ever would have admitted.

  “What do you think he’d do if he saw you?” Mamoru asked.

  Yipachai had to think about it. “Actually, I don’t know if he’d recognize me. I didn’t have hair the last time he saw me, and I doubt he’d expect to see me again here. But I don’t want to take any chances.”

  Mangsut mostly kept to the main roads through Amigawa. Occasionally, he stopped at a roadside stall to speak briefly with a shopkeeper, and twice he stepped into an actual store and emerged with a bag or two full of what was probably fruit or rice. He must’ve been stronger than he looked, because he never seemed to grow tired of carrying his burdens.

  “We’re getting close to the harbor,” Mamoru said after they’d followed Mangsut for over an hour.

  Yipachai considered for a moment, never taking his eyes off of his quarry. If Mangsut was going to the harbor, his ship—and his crew—were probably there, too. Which meant that Yipachai and Mamoru needed a way to get the bandit alone before he escaped.

  “Then I’ll go for his wand now,” Yipachai said, “while he’s stuck carrying those heavy bags.”

  “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

  Yipachai swallowed. “I think so. If I run by and steal it, he’ll have to chase after me. If I can lead him to an alley where there aren’t any people…”

  “Then you’ll kill him with his own wand? I thought you couldn’t even boil water.”

  The thought of killing another Sentient with Lan Banti made Yipachai sway on his feet. It was such a twisting of what the art was supposed to be used for. No, to do that would be to betray Elder Satsanan.

  “No, I’ll just…I’ll figure something else out.”

  “Well, you might want to figure it out quick, because it looks like he’s heading for the docks, and if you don’t have a writ of passage, there’s no way you’ll be able to follow him out there.”

  Mamoru was right. Not far ahead of them—not far ahead of Mangsut—was a line of Banqilun guards, standing across a gate that led out to the network of docks that made up Amigawa’s port.

  Yipachai took a deep breath. “Alright. Then I’ll go now.” He took a purposeful step forward, then hesitated and turned back to Mamoru, who looked more concerned than Yipachai had ever seen him.

  Something inside Yipachai’s chest sunk. He’d actually started to think of Mamoru as a friend. And the Banqilun had only wanted to celebrate Hanzonami. He hadn’t agreed to be a part of killing a bandit.

  “You…don’t have to come with me, you know.”

  Mamoru closed his eyes, his face scrunching as he thought. “No, I’ll help you. If he did what you said he did, I’ll help you do…whatever it is you have to do.”

  For some reason, that answer didn’t make Yipachai feel any better. But he didn’t have time to debate it now. If Mangsut got any closer to those guards, they’d have a far more difficult time stealing his wand and leading him away.

  “Thanks,” Yipachai said. “Just follow my lead.”

  He took a few jogging steps forward to close the distance between himself and Mangsut, who still hadn’t seemed to notice that he was being followed.

  Yipachai drew nearer, and slowed to a brisk walk, hoping that he didn’t stick out for any reason besides being Hetanzou.

  Just a couple more steps. Mangsut wasn’t moving very quickly, and he still hadn’t turned around. His wand was only tucked into his belt, and otherwise unsecured.

  Yipachai’s heart pounded in his chest.

  He reached out his hand, readying himself to make a break for it. He hadn’t had time to find an empty alley. He’d just have to hope that Mangsut chased him long enough for him to find one.

  Yipachai’s fingers were hovering just behind the top of Mangsut’s wand when a voice stopped him in his tracks.

  “Ho, captain! Need some help with those?”

  Yipachai ripped his hand back and tried to let the crowd envelop him just as two dirty-looking Hetanzou sailors approached Mangsut. One of them had his hand raised towards the bandit chief.

  “Aye, what took you so long?” Mangsut said, his voice causing a shiver to ripple down Yipachai’s spine. “I’ve been lugging this all the way across the city for you lot.”

  Yipachai continued to pull back, then turned to find Mamoru. He met the Banqilun’s eyes and shook his head violently. Don’t engage, he tried to say with a look.

  He turned back to watch helplessly as the sailors took Mangsut’s bags and accompanied him to the edge of the docks. Mangsut produced a piece of official-looking paper from one of his pockets, and then the three Hetanzou disappeared down the docks.

  Yipachai barely spoke to Mamoru the entire way back to their dormitory, all their plans of celebrating Hanzonami forgotten.

  Instead, he thought about Mangsut, and how he had been too frightened to do what needed to be done.

  Yipachai had failed his mission. He’d failed Elder Satsanan. And he had no way of knowing if he’d ever be able to find Mangsut again.