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Avatar: The Last Airbender: The Rise of Kyoshi
By F. C. Yee, Michael Dante DiMartino - contributor
Narrated by Nancy Wu
Length 14hr 30min 00s
How to listen for free?4.8
Avatar: The Last Airbender: The Rise of Kyoshi summary & excerpts
Yokoya Port was a town easy to overlook. Situated on the edge of Whale Tail Strait, it could have been a major restocking point for ships leaving one of the many harbors that supplied Omashu. But the strong, reliable prevailing winds made it too easy and cost-effective for southbound merchants to cruise right past it and reach Shimson Big Island in a straight shot. Genju wondered if the locals knew or cared that ships laden with riches sailed tantalizingly close by while they were stuck, elbows deep, in the cavity of another elephant koi. Only a quirk of fate and weather kept piles of gold, spices, precious books, and scrolls from landing on their doorstep. Instead, their lot was fish guts, a wealth of moths and gills. The landward side was even less promising. The soil of the peninsula grew thin and rocky as it extended farther into the sea. It had disturbed Genju to see crop fields so meager and balding as he'd rowed through the countryside into town for the first time. The farmland lacked the wild, volcanic abundance of the Makapu Valley or the carefully ordered productivity of Ba Sing Se's outer ring, where growth bent to the exacting will of the king's planners. Here, a farmer would have to be grateful for whatever sustenance they could pull from the dirt. The settlement lay at the intersection of three different nations—earth, air, and water—and yet none had ever laid much of a claim to it. The conflicts of the outside world had little impact on daily life for the Okoyans. To them, the ravages of the Yellowneck Uprising in the deep interior of the Earth Kingdom were a less interesting story than the wayward flying bison that had gotten loose from the air temple and knocked the thatching off a few roofs last week. Despite being seagoers, they probably couldn't name any of the dreaded pirate leaders carving up the eastern waters in open defiance of the Ba Sing Se navy. All in all, Yokoya Port might as well not have been on the map. Which meant, for Janju and Kelsong's desperate, sacrilegious little experiment, it was perfect. Janju trudged uphill in the wet, mucky snowfall, his neck prickling from the bundled straw cloak around his shoulders. He passed the wooden pillar that marked the spiritual center of this village without sparing it a glance. There was nothing on the sides or on top of it. It was just a bare log, driven upright into the ground of a circular courtyard. It wasn't carved with any decorations, which seemed lazy for a town where nearly every adult had a working knowledge of carpentry. There, the post grudgingly said to any nearby spirits, hope you're happy. Weathered houses lined the broad, eroded avenue, poking steeply into the air like spear points. His destination was the larger two-story meeting hall at the end. Kelsong had set up shop there yesterday, saying he needed as much floor space as possible for the test. He'd also claimed that the location enjoyed some auspicious wind currents, using the very solemn and holy method of licking his finger and holding it up in the air. Whatever helped. Janju sent a quick prayer to the guardian of the divine log as he pulled off his snow boots, laid them on the porch, and ducked through the door curtains. The interior of the hall was surprisingly large, with far corners draped in shadow, and thick planked walls cut from what must have been truly massive trees. The air smelled of resin. Ten very long, very faded yellow cloths stretched across the worn floorboards. A row of toys lay on each one, evenly spaced like a seed bed. A bison whistle, a wicker ball, a misshapen blob that might have been a stuffed turtle duck. A coiled whalebone spring, one of those flappy drums that made noise as you spun it back and forth between your palms. The toys looked as worn and beaten as the outside of this building. Kelsong knelt at the far end of the cloths. The airbender monk was busy placing more knickknacks with a carefulness and precision that-
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More from F. C. Yee, Michael Dante DiMartino - contributor
The authors' 5 popular audiobooks
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More from Nancy Wu
The narrators' 3 popular audiobooks
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