The umbrella slices down into the earth like a spear, and a moment later the feet of Zhaojun touch down upon it with perfect balance. From her position of unassailable height she looks down at Machi with the deadly contentment of the Highest Up Cat, tail swishing, blue eyes blue fire blue lipstick.

She kicked down at the side of her umbrella and with a [i]phomph![/i] it sprang open, making Machi step back from the unexpected motion. Her legs arc and spin beneath her elaborate robes, bringing her around into a meditative lotus posture, balanced flawlessly atop the umbrella.

"Once, there was a volcano!" Zhaojun said. "And upon her slopes lesser creatures built their towns. The volcano was torn, for she longed to show the creatures clinging to her side her full strength and beauty, but every time she did they trembled and quaked and fled. So the volcano, in despondency, learned to temper her wroth, learned to lower her standards, learned to show mercy to those few flickers of courage and boldness she saw. If the choice was between half a rivalry and abandonment she learned to live with disappointment. And her head became so bent by always looking out for those below her that she slumped and slid and faded back into the plain."

From a fold in her robe she produced a wooden box, tied in blue string. She laid it across her lap, unraveled it with one pull, and opened it to reveal three compartments. One held a pair of firewands and enough gleaming dust to make even the incautious shrink back a little; one held a sheaf of papers; one held a small packed lunch of rice dumplings, lotus root and sliced peaches. Chopsticks flashed out from a billowing sleeve, and the stone mask was pushed up just enough for food to slip in beneath.

"And so it is with you, little sister," said Zhaojun. "Too broken hearted, too spurned, too lovesick to burn the world. You know that they do not fear the N'yari below any longer? The Flower Knight Kalaya, who rests but a short ride from here, is concerned with demons and dragons. She is the destined hero of this land, chosen by Heaven, and yet cats and the girls who are them do not even enter her mind. I am shocked that you would be regulated to such a sideline, but then, that is why I am here."

With a blur the chopsticks are replaced with long, emerald-sapphire feathers, a quill from a sacred bird. The papers are arranged. "If you would care to answer some questions about your local deities and their failure to support your civilization in raiding the lowlands it would assist enormously in my investigation."

[I Ship It: 3]