(153 AG)
"Mistress Jira?" Meifeng knocked at the abbess's office door three times without receiving an answer. Everyone had assured her the old woman would be inside; then again, it might just be the latest in a long line of humiliating practical jokes the others had been playing on her. Meifeng was new to all this, but she was fairly certain she hadn't read anything about 'torment the new acolyte' in the scrolls she'd read before coming here.
She knocked again. No answer was forthcoming. Jira might be in there, she might not. There was only one way to be sure, though, so with a deep breath and a pounding heart Meifeng opened the door and crept inside.
"Mistress Jira?" The elderly abbess was in fact inside, so there was that. But she continued to sit placidly in front of the fireplace as though she hadn't heard a word. Meifeng bit her lip and crept around to view the old woman's face more closely. Jira's eyes were tightly shut and she didn't appear to be breathing. Then again, it was hard to be sure under all those robes.
Meifeng had become an air acolyte only a week ago and had managed to fumble and bumble every task she'd been given to date. This one might just top them all. She wasn't sure what the penalty for finding a dead abbess was, but she was pretty sure it would be severe.
Meifeng took another deep breath and gave the old woman a gentle poke on the arm. Jira snorted loudly and looked around blankly. "What happened? Is something wrong? Where's…" Her eyes focused on the terrified acolyte. "Ah. I'm sorry…Meifeng, isn't it?" she said gently. "Fell asleep by the fire again, didn't I? I hope I didn't scare you."
"N-n-not at all," the acolyte said, still trembling. "Mistress Jira, they told me to come get you as soon as possible. There's a sky bison approaching the shrine."
"Is there now?" Jira slowly rose to her feet and reached for her cane. "Well then. Let's see who's come calling at this late hour."
"My, if it isn't the dashing Commander Bumi," Jira chuckled, watching as he jumped off his bison. "And his faithful companion Lieutenant, if I'm not mistaken."
"You're not," Bumi smiled. He embraced the old woman. "It's good to see you, Jira. We still miss you on the island, you know."
"Well, after you left for the military, I figured the pretty acolytes were safe and secure and didn't need me watching out for them," she teased. Jira peered over his shoulder and picked a young woman from the gathered crowd. "Lan, would you please guide Lieutenant down to the caves and see to his comfort?"
"Uhh, certainly, Mistress Jira." Lan glanced around at her companions. "Anybody know how to guide a sky bison somewhere?" she whispered desperately.
Bumi sighed deeply. "Jira, I need to talk to you about something…in private." He glanced around at the swarm of acolytes that had emerged from the shadows. "And if possible I'd like Pema there as well."
Jira nodded and picked another random acolyte. "Xiaoli, please fetch Pema and send her to my office. And someone bring the commander a hot meal and tea. He's had a long ride."
"You don't know the half of it," he said, shaking his head.
"I'm sorry, Abbess," Pema said as she hurried into Jira's office. "I was finalizing the menus for tomorrow's meals…" She froze in mid-sentence as she saw who was sitting opposite Jira. "Commander Bumi," she finally said in acknowledgement.
"Hello, Pema." This wasn't the jovial wise-cracker and teller of tall tales she'd remembered. He looked tired and worn to his soul, making every small smile look like a herculean effort. "It's good to see you again," he added after a moment.
"Sit down, dear," Jira suggested. "Commander Bumi has important news that involves you."
"Me?" Pema barely restrained the disbelieving snort. "I don't understand. I'm just an acolyte…"
"My father is dying," Bumi said quietly.
Pema managed to nod in acknowledgement. "I'm very sorry to hear that," she said quietly. "Avatar Aang was always very kind to me." Certainly more than his wife was, she added silently.
"He was very fond of you," Bumi replied. "He always said you brought out the best in Tenzin." Pema flinched at the sound of that name; it was one she'd worked very hard to avoid and more importantly forget. "Pema," Bumi continued quietly, "I need you to come back to Air Temple Island with me."
"Why?" Pema shot back before she could catch herself.
Bumi opened his mouth to speak, but Jira raised a hand to interrupt. "I think the two of you have much to discuss," she said blandly. "And this old woman needs to go to bed before she falls asleep again and scares the daylights out of Meifeng." She slowly made her way to the door. "Pema, please make sure Commander Bumi has somewhere to sleep tonight. I imagine he'll be leaving early tomorrow morning. Good night."
Bumi was at the door and holding it open by the time Jira reached it. "Always a gentleman," she smiled up at him. "At least in public, hmmm?"
"You know me too well, Jira."
"I had a lot of time and practice. Good night."
Bumi closed the door behind her before turning toward Pema. "Jira was one of the original air acolytes. She was abbess on the island for a long time, and, well…she kind of looked out for me."
"How nice." Pema's voice was pure ice.
Bumi took a deep breath and shook his head. "Pema," he began. "I can understand why you're angry…"
"Angry? Angry doesn't begin to cover how I feel!" Pema rose to her feet, her hands clenched into fists. "Three years ago I came to the island and became an acolyte, just like I'd always dreamed! I felt like I'd come home! I met someone special and fell in love, and then I got sent off as far away from him as possible, no correspondence, no hint that he knew I still existed! Angry? Try humiliated, discarded, scorned…" She took a deep breath. "And now you want me to just up and return with you? Why should I?"
Bumi sighed and shook his head. "You know damned well why you were sent here."
"Yes, because I fell in love with your brother!"
"Not quite," Bumi replied ruefully. "Because you fell in bed with my brother. And because he was thirty-two, you were seventeen and the age of consent in Republic City is eighteen. And because his girlfriend found you in bed with him." He shook his head. "Lin Beifong was the last person on Earth you'd ever want to piss off, Pema. She could have made things very rough on everyone involved. Spirits only know why she didn't."
"Oh, believe me, I heard all about—and saw, more than a few times—what happened to acolytes who got too close to your mother's little baby boy," Pema shot back. "They were gone with the next bison out, never to be seen again. And I was…stupid enough…to hope…" She turned away from him before he could see the tears trickling down her face.
"For what it's worth, I'm sorry," Bumi said softly. "It was a bad situation all around. But that was then and this is now, and right now I need to take you back. You're needed."
"Why? Has your mother run all the other acolytes off too?" Pema sniffled.
Bumi rubbed his face. "Things are a little crazy right now," he finally said. "Mom…her attention's elsewhere right now. She needs someone to step in and keep the kitchen running. You were the first person I thought of."
"Really? And I'm supposed to be thrilled about that?" Pema retorted.
"Well…" Bumi took a deep breath. "I also thought that Tenzin needed you, Pema."
"Is that so?" She turned around and glared at him balefully. "Does he even remember who I am?"
"Believe me, he does," Bumi pleaded. "Pema…"
"TWO YEARS! NOT A NOTE, NOT A VISIT—NOTHING!" The fury exploded from her mouth. "'YOU'RE MY SOUL MATE, PEMA!' 'WHEN I'M WITH YOU, I FEEL LIKE YOU'VE ALWAYS BEEN HERE!' Well if I'm so missed, WHERE IS HE? STILL COWERING BEHIND MOMMY?"
"ENOUGH." Bumi's voice reverberated around the room. The anger faded almost instantly, replaced once again by exhaustion. "Fine. I asked you to return with me, and you said no. I can respect that. I know you're angry. I'm not saying you don't have just cause. But Pema…my father is dying, I'm not there with him, and I'm exhausted." He shrugged his shoulders. "Show me where I can catch some sleep, and I'll be gone and out of your hair first thing in the morning."
Her anger momentarily abated, Pema suddenly felt a bit ashamed of herself. "Bumi…" she began, but he waved her off and looked away. "Wait here," she finally said. "I'll make sure a room is prepared for you."
"Thank you," he said quietly.
"Thanks for the breakfast," Bumi said to Jira the next morning. "It's going to be a long flight back. Pity it was for nothing."
"So I'm nothing?" Jira smirked.
"Okay, point taken. I got to see you again, that's something." Bumi shook his head. "I can't blame her for being angry, but I really hoped that she'd come back with me."
"Well, personally I'm glad Master Katara sent her here. She took charge and whipped things back into place. Do you know she supervised the installation of beehives her first summer? Not only have we produced enough honey to sell in town, it's done wonders for the trees and the gardens. She's a very bright and capable young woman. Don't underestimate her."
"Well, she's all yours at any rate," Bumi said as he gave the old woman a long hug. "You take care of yourself, Jira. I'll try to come out sometime next summer."
"I'll do my best to stay alive till then," Jira said wryly.
"You? You'll live forever. Only the good die young." Bumi stepped out into the cool morning and looked around. Acolytes were scurrying here and there on their duties, Lieutenant was standing saddled, loaded and ready, and Pema was waiting patiently beside him.
"Umm," Bumi said after a moment.
"As I said," Jira smiled. "Don't underestimate her."
"Thank you for the blanket," Pema said during one of their rest stops. Bumi was taking them along one of the old air nomad trade routes, littered with old shrines and stations where a rider and bison could pause and refresh themselves. "It does get rather cold up there. How are you managing?"
"Two things," Bumi grinned as he poured himself some tea. "Water tribe constitution, and more importantly a nice thick, insulated coat courtesy of the United Forces." He looked over at Lieutenant; the bison was lazily grazing in the nearby field. "Look alive there, soldier," he called out. "We have to leave soon."
"How did you end up with a bison?" Pema asked, curiosity overtaking her still-simmering irritation. "I thought that only airbenders could bond with them."
"Well, apparently not," Bumi shrugged. "We were down at the Southern Air Temple and saw a wild herd. Tenzin and I got closer and the next thing I knew this little guy was trying to get my attention in the worst way. Wouldn't take no for an answer—shoot," he laughed, "we took off on Oogi and he followed right behind us the entire way back. Dad was surprised to say the least."
"Maybe Lieutenant sensed some airbender in you," Pema commented.
Bumi shook his head. "I'm no airbender. I work for a living." He stood up and stretched.
Pema wrapped the blanket around herself. "I...was curious as to how Master Tenzin was doing?"
"Ah." Bumi whistled for Lieutenant. "Tenzin? Well, he's pretty much gone to pieces." He shook his head. "I'm not sure he's left Dad's room for more than a few minutes at a time. He's not eating, not sleeping, just sits there with this terrible, glassy-eyed stare. I thought that if you were there…"
"No." Pema shook her head firmly. "I will help out however I can and make sure things get done. But when this is…over," she said with a hint of stammer, "I intend to return to Jira's shrine. He had two years to communicate with me and he chose to obey his mother's wishes instead. I'm not falling into that trap a second time."
"Okay," Bumi nodded. "That's fair. I'll take you back myself. But for now, we need to get going." He offered an arm to help Pema reach the saddle grip.
Pema gasped as Air Temple Island came into view. She'd never forgotten the times Tenzin had taken her and the acolyte children on a sky bison ride, soaring high over Republic City and making a very slow, lazy return to home. The temple had seemed like a beacon to her at the time, offering some sort of sanctuary to all who felt its call. She almost felt sorry for those who would never see it from this angle.
She caught herself and shoved the memory away. She was here to perform an acolyte's duty, nothing more. There was nothing personal about this whatsoever. If Master Tenzin should happen to greet her at any time, she would simply acknowledge him as was proper, nothing more. The pounding of her heart was simply the result of the high altitude or the long journey, nothing else.
Lieutenant landed in the courtyard with a solid thud; Pema briefly recalled that Tenzin had always guided Oogi down much more smoothly before banishing that thought as well. She accepted Bumi's offer of assistance and slid off the sky bison into his arms. "Thank you."
"No problem…uh-oh." Bumi's trademark grin vanished abruptly. "Here she comes. Let me do the talking, okay?" Pema spotted an angry Katara approaching and nodded, quickly slipping behind him—any shield in a storm, or so they said.
"Where have you been?" Katara demanded without preamble.
"Hey, Mom." Bumi smiled weakly. "I…well, I thought maybe you could use some help right now, so I went and got some…" He stepped to one side. "You remember Pema?"
Katara's scowl deepened. "What is SHE doing here? Bumi…"
"Wait." Pema turned toward Bumi. "I was under the impression that she knew you were doing this," she accused.
"Well…" Bumi chuckled uneasily. "Beg forgiveness, not permission, as they say in the Forces…"
"I cannot believe you'd just up and leave without telling anyone!" Katara snapped. "Bad enough your father sent Kya down to the South—you go running off and just leave me and Tenzin to manage by ourselves! And you come back with HER? What were you thinking, Bumi?"
"I was thinking that right now you need to be spending time with Dad, not minding the kitchen," Bumi replied, his voice suddenly firm and serious. "I was thinking that…oh, the hell with it. I'm back, she's here, deal with it. I gotta use the bathroom." He hurried off toward the main house, leaving the two women together.
Katara stared at Pema for a long moment. "How is Jira?" she finally asked, her irritation still clearly evident.
Pema bowed slightly. "She's doing well. She sends her regards and her consolations to your family during this time." Politeness might be the best course of action, and to be honest, she was Mistress of the Island. Respect had to be given.
Katara glanced toward the house, then back at Pema. "All right," she finally said. "Come with me." They walked back to the house and headed into the kitchen. "There's my office," she said, pointing at a small adjoining room. "There's a smaller room next to it with a cot if you need to rest."
"Thank you, Master Katara," Pema nodded.
Katara glanced at her crookedly. "I'm sure there's much, much more you have to say to me, but that can wait. My husband…" She glanced away, looking suddenly worn and fragile. "It can wait. Abbess, I need a word with you." An older woman who'd been passing by stopped. "Shan, do you remember Pema?"
The abbess paused in confusion then nodded. "Yes, I do. I didn't expect to see her here, though…"
"I'm putting her in charge of the kitchen. There are going to be a lot of people showing up, they're going to be hungry, and unlike far too many acolytes around here Pema is an excellent cook."
Shan regarded Pema critically. "You're sure? She's awfully young…"
"She was trained by Jira," Katara interrupted. Shan fell silent. "Anything she needs, see that it's done. I've got to get back to my husband." She shot one final glance at Pema before hurrying back to the bedroom.
Abbess and acolyte regarded each other warily. "Well," Shan said quietly. "Where shall we begin?"
Pema considered the question for a long moment. "Well, to start with," she finally replied, "I want a complete inventory of our food supplies." She rolled up her sleeves. "Does anyone here know how to bake? I'll need some assistance while I start making soup."
Shan smiled slightly and nodded. "You were definitely trained by Jira."
"I learned a great deal from her."
"Didn't we all? Well then, Pema, you get started. I'll go round up a few bakers for you."
Pema was just finishing a fresh batch of macaroons when a familiar voice echoed from the master bedroom. "Come on," she heard Bumi say. "You're exhausted, you're hungry, and to be honest you smell. Dad's going to think Aunt Toph's visiting."
"Leave me alone," a familiar yet ragged voice snapped back. "I should be in there…" Despite her resolve, Pema found herself turning around. She almost immediately regretted it.
Tenzin looked awful. The arrow atop his head was barely visible beneath a layer of hair; obviously he hadn't bothered to shave the past few days. His eyes were red with dark circles around them, and from the look of things he hadn't changed clothes recently either. His eyebrows and goatee were bushy and shooting out in odd directions. But it was the expression on his face that shocked Pema the most; when she'd first met him, Tenzin was a tall, handsome and confident presence. This man looked utterly overwhelmed and defeated.
"Sit down," Bumi ordered, placing a brotherly hand on Tenzin's shoulder and all but shoving him down to the floor. "Let me get you some soup at least." Before he could head that way, though, Pema was standing there with a tray laden with a bowl of soup and fresh bread. "Thank you, Pema," Bumi said after a moment. "I don't suppose I could get one of those for myself?"
"Of course, Commander Bumi," Pema said very clearly and distinctly. If Tenzin heard or even recognized her voice, he didn't acknowledge it. Sighing, she went back to load another tray.
"Look, when you finish up, go upstairs and try to get some sleep," Bumi urged his little brother. "He's not going anywhere for the moment. If Kya calls while you're gone, I'll come and get you. I promise."
"Kya should be here," Tenzin mumbled through a mouthful of bread.
"I agree, but you were there. You heard what Dad told her." Bumi tasted the soup and smacked his lips. "This is incredible, Pema." Again, Tenzin had no reaction. She wasn't sure whether to be relieved or irritated.
"Thank you, Commander," she said crisply. "I'll be in the kitchen if you need anything."
"Oh, one thing," Bumi called to her. Pema paused and turned back toward him. "There'll be a lot of company arriving before too long. Don't worry, they won't be expecting meat—most of them, anyway. Just be ready, okay?"
"Will they be staying here?" Pema asked.
"I don't know," Bumi shrugged. "Possibly."
"Well, isn't anyone making sure the guest rooms are clean?"
Bumi smiled slightly. "I honestly don't know. You might ask Shan. Or if she's busy…" He winked at her. "You could have a few acolytes check for you."
Chop. Cook. Stir. Bake. Serve. Clean. Repeat. Pema concentrated on her duties and tried not to think about Tenzin, or Avatars, or much of anything else. She was just another acolyte, here to do a job on behalf of the family, nothing more, nothing less. Pema sighed and started yet another batch of soup.
From time to time harried, terrified acolytes would pop in and ask her about worn guest sheets or dusty rooms. Pema would take a deep breath and give them precise instructions on what they needed to do. It was getting to be a bit irritating. They should be seeing the Abbess about such things, not her. Pema assumed the older woman was elsewhere doing abbess things and returned to her cooking.
She'd just finished a new pot of vegetable soup when someone came in. "Is that for everyone?"
Pema turned toward the voice to find Lin Beifong standing there. The two women regarded each other in surprise for a minute or so before Pema regained her voice. "Yes, it is," she said as evenly as possible. "Please help yourself, Chief. There's fresh bread on the table." How many times had she said that in the past…how long had she been working? Spirits.
"Thanks." Lin slurped greedily at her serving. "This is incredible." She looked up and regarded Pema quietly. "Have to admit, I'm a bit surprised to see you here," she commented. "When Katara ships them out, they don't usually come back."
"Commander Bumi brought me here to help out," Pema replied briskly. "When this…" She caught herself. "I'll be returning to the shrine when I'm no longer needed here," she said instead.
Beifong nodded. "Pity. You're head and shoulders above the usual cooks around here. Katara excepted, of course."
"Thank you." Pema bit her lip. "I'm a bit surprised you're being so civil to me, considering."
"That was a long time ago," Beifong said with a shrug. "Besides, I didn't blame you that much. He was the one who was sneaking around behind my back."
"Did you two get…?"
Beifong snorted loudly. "Are you kidding? Fool me once, shame on you…"
"My apologies," Pema nodded. "If you'll excuse me, I need to…"
"Wait." Beifong held out an odd-looking device. "Take this, okay?"
Mystified, Pema accepted the offering, turning it around in her hands. "What is it?"
"A radio communicator," Beifong explained. "If you see or hear anything odd—hell, if you get a weird feeling that something's wrong, press that button and call for me. I'll get back here as fast as I can."
"All right," Pema said slowly. "I'm not sure I understand why, though."
Beifong smiled ruefully. "The Avatar's dying in that back bedroom. Do you have any idea how much the Republic City papers would pay for an exclusive photo of 'Aang on his deathbed'?"
"What?" Pema gasped. "That's….that's disgusting!"
"No kidding." Beifong shook her head. "Those guys will stop at nothing to get something, anything at all and publish it first. I want to make sure the family has privacy, and you're in a central location. I can use all the eyes and ears I can get."
"I'll do what I can," Pema nodded firmly. "You have my word."
"Thanks." Beifong headed for the door but paused mid-step. "Say, would you mind if my men…?"
"Not at all," Pema replied. "We never turn away a hungry visitor, remember?"
"So I've heard," Beifong grinned. "Thanks. I'll pass the word around."
At some point exhaustion would no longer be denied and Pema collapsed on the cot inside that tiny side room. She wasn't sure how long she slept, but at some point an odd noise made her stir. She began to open her eyes but stopped the instant she saw who was in the next room.
Katara was hunched over her desk, sobbing deeply. Her shoulders shuddered as she gasped for breath through her tears. Pema lay there silently, feigning sleep as the older woman struggled to regain control of her emotions. It took several minutes to achieve it.
The older woman took several deep breaths as she wiped the tears from her eyes and face. Throwing her shoulders back and reclaiming her mask of firm determination, she left the room without a word.
Bumi re-entered the kitchen. "Have you seen Tenzin anywhere?"
Pema shook her head. "I think he passed through here a little while ago, but he went outside, not back to the bedroom."
"Ahhh," Bumi nodded. "Probably in the temple, then. How did he look?"
"I beg your pardon?"
He rolled his eye with mock exasperation. "Could you tell if he'd at least bathed?"
"I don't know," Pema replied, trying not to smile. "Probably. He'd actually managed to shave."
"Thank the spirits," Bumi sighed, raising his eyes to heavens. "Oh, by any chance has Mom's phone rung?" Pema shook her head. "Good. If it does, you be sure and let me know as soon as possible, okay?"
"All right." Pema bit her lip, hesitating and hating herself for her curiosity. She was just an acolyte, one who had no business prying into family business. Still… "If I might ask…why isn't your sister here?"
"That's a long story." Bumi yawned and rubbed his eyes. "You look like you could use a break. Get one of the others to take over while we go outside."
They sat down on one of the many benches lining the courtyard. "Here's the thing," he finally said quietly. "My dad's an airbender. The next Avatar will be a waterbender. That's how it goes." Pema nodded but said nothing. "Well…" he continued after a moment. "Let's just say that whenever the cycle changes…there are a lot of people with…let's call it a vested interest…in locating the new Avatar for their own purposes."
"That sounds a bit ominous," Pema noted.
"It should," Bumi nodded. "So anyway…when Dad started getting sick, he called in the White Lotus—I'm pretty sure you know about them—and asked them to keep an eye on the swampbenders, the Northern and the Southern tribes, the waterbenders here in Republic City…everywhere, really. He wanted to make sure the next Avatar would be safe. He even asked the Kyoshi Warriors to help out. Aunt Suki was more than happy to do it.
"The thing is…" Bumi took a long breath. "Dad…I don't know if it's an Avatar thing or what, but he seems to think he knows exactly where the next Avatar will be born…and to whom." He smiled crookedly. "Crazy, huh?"
"I…don't recall ever hearing anything like that before," Pema admitted.
"Me either, but who knows?" Bumi shrugged. "So anyway, he demanded that Kya go to…that location…and keep an eye on the parents-to-be. The woman's definitely pregnant and ready to go, so at the very least she'll have one of the best healers in the world there to make sure everything goes smoothly. But if Dad's right…"
"Oh." Pema bit her lip. "That's why…"
"Yeah," Bumi nodded. "Kya was furious about it—hell, we all were. But in the end she agreed to go." He stood up and stretched long and loudly. "Well, I'm going to walk the perimeter and make sure all's well. Call if you need anything."
So many people were coming and going it was difficult to keep track. Pema was familiar with Chief Sokka and his wife Suki from her earlier days on the island, but others were complete strangers. Bumi was able to fill her in occasionally, but for the most part she just smiled politely and offered the soup, the fresh rolls and the snacks on the table. She was just an acolyte, here to help out. None of it was any of her business.
The red dragon head poking through the kitchen window, though—now that was something different. Pema gasped in surprise and took a few steps backwards as the creature peered intently at her. "Um…hello?" she finally offered in a quavering voice. "Can I…help you?"
"Druk, you miserable excuse for a son, stop that this instant!" ordered a new voice. Pema whirled around to find a striking middle-aged woman in the doorway glaring at the dragon, who snorted (in compliance or derision, Pema couldn't be sure) before withdrawing. "I don't know what to do with him," the stranger complained as she walked to the open window. "Should be out razing and pillaging villages, and what does he do…DRUK! IF YOU'RE NOT GOING TO EAT ONE OF THOSE DAMNED BISON, GO TO THE FARM ZUZU OWNS AND GET YOURSELF A COW OR TWO!"
"It's all right," Pema stammered. "He didn't hurt me…I was just surprised."
"Oh, don't mind him," the woman replied, waving off her concern. "He smelled kin and curiosity got the better of him, that's all. My, that smells…adequate." She peered into the steaming pot of soup. "Mind you, it'd probably taste better with some meat in it, but I know, I know, the whole vegetarian thing." She looked up at Pema and smiled. "I don't suppose you'd assist a poor woman whose brother just up and abandoned her at the door so he could visit the Avatar?"
"Of course," Pema said briskly, ignoring her growing sense of unease around this newcomer. "Please sit down and make yourself comfortable. I'll bring some soup in, and there's fresh bread on the table."
She looked vaguely familiar though Pema couldn't place her. Her gaze seemed to be everywhere at once, taking everything in with those bright yellow eyes, and though she must have just arrived with Fire Lord Zuko, her gray-streaked hair looked impeccably smooth and unruffled. For all her complaints about the offerings, though, she certainly had quite an appetite, downing two bowls in record time. "Ah, that's better," she finally said, barely restraining a burp. "Thank you, my dear." She stared at Pema for a long moment. "You've Fire Nation blood in you."
"Yes," Pema nodded. "My mother was Fire Nation. My father was from the Earth Kingdom. They died a very long time ago."
"And here you are." The woman's stare was discomfiting. "Mistress of the Island. My, Father Dearest would be spinning in his grave if he knew…of course, he'd need a grave to do it in, but whatever." Her teeth flashed in a brief, nasty smile. "Spirits bless the Melon Lord, who sent him straight to the damned."
"Excuse me," Pema said quickly, "but I'm not Mistress here. I'm just an acolyte…"
"Your blood…your heart and soul…tell you otherwise. Why do you lie to yourself?" Her words were razor-sharp. "You know your destiny is here. No matter what you say or do, you will always return to this place. Accept it. Embrace it." She leaned forward, her smile gleaming. "Dragons know, my dear. Dragons always know."
Pema stood transfixed, unsure of what to say or do. She wanted desperately to deny the woman's words, but something about them resonated deep inside her. Before she could speak, though, the woman was rising to her feet. "I have something for you," she said a bit more gently than before. "Call it a token of appreciation for your kindness."
"Oh, you don't have to do that," Pema started to say, but before she could react the locket was in her hands. It was breathtakingly beautiful, borne on a long silver chain and bearing intricately etched dragons on its frontispiece.
"Go on," the woman urged. "Open it." Mystified, Pema obeyed. It held a small picture of a beautiful woman that Pema immediately recognized.
"My mother…" she gasped, tears coming to her eyes. "That's…my mother. I just barely remember her, but I know it's her." She looked up at the strange woman, whose smile was a bit gentler now. "How…?"
"Dragons know," the woman replied. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to pay my respects to the Avatar. I killed him once, you know…pity it didn't take that time, but again, destiny will have its way no matter what we say or do." She walked away, leaving Pema alone with the locket and her tears.
"Mistress Pema, no one ordered apples and cabbages for the bison." One phone call later an emergency order was on its way.
"Mistress Pema, we've got a batch of acolytes from the Southern Air Temple to help out, but we don't have anywhere to put them!" One brief, hurried conversation with the Abbess later, a staggered work/sleep schedule emerged; she hated to do that to people, but under the circumstances some doubling up would have to be done until this was all over.
"Mistress Pema, I think there's someone on the roof over the bedroom!" Pema immediately grabbed the communicator, and within two minutes Beifong had the trespasser on the ground and in restraints. She grabbed the camera and ripped the undeveloped film out. "Just as well," Beifong commented as she led the photographer away. "They looked like lousy shots to me."
"Mistress Pema, the ferry's sprung a leak!" Bumi promised to call in a few favors with the local United Forces base and get a temporary boat. He was also confident that a buddy of his could fix the old one, "which really needs to be replaced at some point but this isn't the time to talk about it, is it?"
"Why do they keep coming to me?" Pema demanded during one of the far too few breaks she allowed herself to take.
Bumi smiled. "Oh, it's probably because the acolytes could always find Mom in the kitchen area when problems popped up. Force of habit."
"Well, I wish they'd stop," Pema grumbled. "I'm just another acolyte, like them."
Bumi turned to carefully appraise her. "So when they show up, what do you do? Send them to the abbess?"
"Well, no," Pema slowly admitted. "Most times they just need someone to make a decision so they don't have to. It'd take more time than it'd be worth to hunt Shan down, so I just tell them what I think they should do. Most times the correct choice is pretty obvious."
"That sounds like something Jira would say," Bumi laughed. "She taught you well, just like Dad hoped."
Pema's mouth fell open. "What?"
Bumi sighed. "I doubt you'll believe this, but when Dad couldn't convince Mom to keep you around, he insisted that you be sent to help Jira. She's a very dear friend of the family—well, for Dad, anyway. She and he got along like a house on fire, always laughing and playing silly tricks on one another. It drove Mom nuts." He smiled at the memory. "She was pretty old and things at the shrine were slipping, so Dad saw an opportunity and he forced Mom to send you there."
"Opportunity?"
"Think of it as officer's school." Bumi chuckled softly. "Jira taught you how to run a shrine and keep it going, right?" Pema nodded. "Well, Air Temple Island is one hell of a big shrine. Get the picture?"
"Yes, but…"
Bumi sighed and rolled his eyes. "Dad was hoping that you and Tenzin would end up together, and by extension that would make you Mistress of the Island someday, okay? He wanted you prepared for that."
Pema shook her head. "No. Your mother…"
"Do you really think she'll stay here long once Dad's gone?" Bumi asked sadly. "Well, that was the plan, but since you're going to head back to the shrine once this is all done, it's not going to happen. So if I were you, I'd stop making those decisions—send them to the abbess, like you said." For some odd reason he had the damnedest grin on this face as he rose to his feet and walked away. Pema spared him a long-distance glare before returning to the kitchen, where there was always more work to do and more questions to answer.
Pema had long since lost track of time. She had no idea whether it was morning or night when the jarring ring of the phone woke her from a sound, exhausted sleep. Stumbling out of her cubbyhole, she managed to pick it up on the sixth ring. "Hello?" It wasn't the proper way to greet a caller, but Pema had also long since disposed of the niceties.
"Is this Air Temple Island? Who is this?" The caller was female, tired and stressed. Pema identified herself and took a deep breath. She knew what was coming. "Please tell Bumi that Senna's gone into labor," Kya requested, her voice breaking at the end of the sentence.
Some time later—again, Pema never could remember precisely when it was—the second call came. She wrote the message down, set the receiver in the cradle, and spared the Avatar a moment or two of silence and tears, passed the message on to Bumi…and returned to her work.
Later on Pema wondered why Kya had heavily emphasized the baby's official time of birth as being an hour before Aang's passing, but it wasn't really any of her business. She was just an acolyte, there to do a job for as long as she was needed. Nothing more, nothing less.
She had to admit that 'Korra' was a pretty name, though.
"What happened then?" Jira asked.
Pema sighed. "There was a huge gathering for the funeral ceremony, which meant more food, more linens, more everything. And for some reason everyone with a problem came to me with it."
"Were you able to help them?" Jira sipped at her tea, all the better to hide her smile.
"Oh, most of the time it was just a matter of listening and letting them solve it themselves. I swear I was lucky to get what little sleep I did." Pema shook her head tiredly. "After everything settled down, I got someone to bring me back here. I'd had enough of that place."
"You don't appear to be quite as sure as you sound," Jira noted. Pema looked away, slightly embarrassed. "Did you get a chance to speak with Master Katara?"
Pema nodded. "I wanted to recover my mother's jewelry box if nothing else." She glanced down at the ornate box sitting in her lap. "I…you know, when I got there I was so angry at her for what she did to me, but when all was said and done, I was too tired to say anything, and she looked utterly devastated. It just wasn't worth it."Pema stared into the fire. "When I found her, she was sitting alone in the bedroom. She looked at me and started crying. 'I don't want to stay here but I don't want to leave', she said. It was pretty sad."
Jira nodded somberly. "She and Aang were soul mates. It's going to be hard for her. What about Tenzin?"
"What about him?" Pema snorted. "He walked past me several times—he even spoke to me a few times—but he had no idea who I was. So much for 'true love'. I had a feeling he'd forgotten all about me."
"Well…" Jira began, but a frantic pounding on the door interrupted her. "Has to be Meifeng," she muttered under her breath. "The poor girl's been terrified of coming in here lately, don't know why. Come in, dear!" she added in a louder voice.
The door flew open to reveal a breathless, wide-eyed Meifeng. "Mistress Jira, there's a sky bison approaching!" she exclaimed.
"My," Jira noted wryly. "Months without a single sighting, and now three within two weeks. Isn't that always the way?" She slowly rose to her feet. "Well, Pema," she added with a wink. "Let's go see who's come to visit, shall we?"
Tenzin leaped gracefully off of his bison and landed neatly in the courtyard. "Pema," he said breathlessly, striding eagerly toward her. Pema stood stiffly and regarded him with the coldest glare she could muster. "Pema, why didn't you tell me you were at the Island?" he began without preamble.
"Why thank you for visiting, Master Tenzin," Jira said blandly. "I'm doing well, thank you for asking. We are honored by your appearance today, though it would seem that once again you left your manners at home, hmmm?"
He blinked in surprise and turned toward the abbess. "Ahh, my apologies, Mistress Jira. I was just excited to see Pema again." He smiled hopefully at her, but Pema returned the gesture with a quiet snort. He bowed slightly. "I'm glad to see you again. Mother sends her regards."
"I'm sure she does. My deepest sympathies on the passing of your father. He was a wonderful man and I treasured the times I spent around him." Jira smirked ever so slightly. "Especially the time when he revealed the answer to the Great Mystery to me."
"…I'm not sure I understand," Tenzin stuttered.
"Of course you don't," Jira smiled. "Don't worry about it, Tenzin. I'm sure you have a Great Mystery of your own. But I can see you two have a great deal to discuss, and it's most likely best done in private. Please feel free to use my office. I have places to be." She motioned for the acolytes to scatter, Meifeng following close behind the older woman. Pema could just make out the whispered conversation:
"Great Mystery, Mistress Jira?"
"Mmm-hmm. The answer was yes, it did have an arrow."
Pema almost laughed, but caught herself in time. "This way, Master Tenzin," she said with as much respectful ice as she could muster. She turned toward the main building.
"Pema…" His mouth was slightly agape. "Aren't you…glad to see me?"
"It's always an honor to have you here, Master Tenzin. But I believe this is a conversation you'd prefer to have in private."
Tenzin shook his head. "Are you angry with me?"
Pema's eyes narrowed. "Why would I be angry with you?"
"Well," Tenzin began slowly. This conversation was clearly not the one he'd been expecting. "Look, if it's about your being there while Father was dying…"
"What? The fact that you walked past me countless times, that I spoke to you, stood directly in front of you, even provided you with several meals…and you didn't once acknowledge me?" Pema was trying very hard to keep from shouting, but her anger was growing wilder by the second. "Your brother even called me by name in your presence…and what did I get? Nothing. Not even the slightest hint of recognition, much less any kind of affection! Did I mean that little to you, Tenzin? Was I just a one-time fling with an acolyte that was also your student? Or was that part of the turn-on?"
"No, no!" Tenzin shook his head frantically. "Pema, I am terribly sorry for that—it was rude and inexcusable and…and…" He searched for appropriate terms but nothing was forthcoming, so Pema decided to help him out.
"Demeaning?" she said quietly.
"I…" His head fell forward. "Yes," he finally admitted. "All those things and more. Pema…I have no excuse for how I treated you…but I am here now. Doesn't that mean anything to you?"
Pema folded her arms over her chest and regarded Tenzin critically. "You know," she finally said. "I might be able to forgive you ever so slightly about all that. Your father was dying. He was a good man who always treated me with great kindness, and I know how much you loved him. Losing him must have been beyond devastating for you."
Tenzin nodded somberly.
"So what about the past two years?" Pema asked sharply.
"I…" Tenzin began, but it was far too late.
"I loved you! I thought that maybe, just maybe, you felt the same way about me. We had something so rare and precious…something that could have lasted a lifetime and more!" Pema didn't even bother to hide her tears. "I spent an incredible night in your arms and was stupid enough to think that this was the beginning of our life together…that I'd finally found someone who wanted me for me, not as a servant or maid or acolyte, but me!"
"Pema, I do…"
Pema's laugh was rough and brief. "But then Lin Beifong caught us, and your mother had me on a bison and gone before I knew what had happened! Two years, Tenzin! Two years, and you never bothered to write me, or visit me, or make the slightest gesture that might allow me to hold on to that hope, that promise! How could you?"
"Pema, I wanted to!" Tenzin pleaded. "But I had no idea where you were!"
"Didn't it occur to you even once to consult the acolyte gossip network?" Pema snapped.
"Mother always said that I should never listen to the gossip because…"
"Oh, Tenzin, for spirits sake! You're over thirty years old and your mother is STILL running your life?" Pema shook her head violently. "Do you even know how to cook? Clean your own clothes? Or do they just magically rise off the floor, throw themselves into the washer and dryer, then float neatly pressed into your closet? Is that why you want me back? To take care of you now that Mommy's gone back to the South?"
"Pema, if I tried to write…and I wanted to, believe me I did…how could I get it to you?" Tenzin sounded utterly shattered and bereft. Good.
"You know," Pema pointed out, "it's rather odd that your brother knew exactly where I was. You could have asked him. Or would Mommy not like that either?"
"Bumi is utterly unreliable," Tenzin retorted. "Half the time I can't tell if what he says is truth, fiction, or some elaborate joke he delights on playing on me!"
"Bumi is kind, considerate, thoughtful, insightful, and most of all funny," Pema shot back. "You know, now that I think about it, maybe I should be with him instead of you!"
"Don't be ridiculous!" Tenzin exclaimed. "Bumi is over twenty-s…" To his credit, he realized the trap he was about to stumble into and caught himself in time. "We're not talking about him," he said instead, shifting desperately into 'master' role. "We're talking about us."
"What 'us'?" Pema cried. "There's no 'us' right now! You allow your mother to shuffle me away, and two years later you come here thinking that I'll just swoon and fall back into your arms? How self-centered are you?" She suddenly realized that their discussion had drawn quite a crowd nearby. "Go back to your island, Tenzin. We are done here."
"Pema…" His eyes were desperate. "I love you…I never stopped. Please…give me another chance. Please?"
She wiped her eyes and turned away. Damn her heart. "Do you mean that?"
"Yes!"
"Will you put me first in your life and heart?"
"Yes!"
"Will you stand up to your mother about me?"
"…yes."
"All right." She turned to face him again. "Prove it to me."
Tenzin froze, confused. "What?"
Pema raised her chin defiantly. "You heard what I said. Show me you're a man of your word. Win me back."
"But…" Tenzin shook his head. "I don't understand."
"Tenzin, it's simple. Make me feel like you want me and nobody else as your partner for the rest of our lives. Woo me. Write me letters. Tell me how much you miss me. Talk about how our lives are going to be. Ask me about life here. Learn how to cook for yourself and wash your clothes—show me that you can take care of yourself without someone looking after you. Come see me and…I don't know, take me on a picnic or something." She looked up into his sad gray eyes. "I'm giving you a second chance, Tenzin. Take it or leave it, it's up to you."
He took a few deep breaths and nodded. "Thank you. I…"
"Don't tell me," Pema said, cutting him off. "Show me."
"I will," Tenzin nodded. "I promise."
"This all looks wonderful," Pema said. Tenzin nodded and continued to set the picnic offerings atop the old bison blanket; there was an impressive array from which to choose. "Did you make all this yourself?" she teased. She reached out and snatched one of the chocolate covered strawberries.
"Not everything," he confessed. "I'm still learning and given my duties it's a slow process. Plus, the abbess still hasn't quite forgiven me for setting the rice on fire that one time." He glanced up and made sure Oogi was behaving himself further up the hill. They'd chosen this location a month or two ago for the view, the grassy meadow, and most importantly the privacy. There was more than enough gossip about the two of them as it was.
Pema giggled. "You forgot the water, didn't you?" She stretched back and basked in the warm afternoon sun. "This is very nice. I never get tired of it."
Tenzin smiled. "Well, I certainly can't say enough about the company."
"You've certainly come a long way in six months." Pema's smile shone. "You do realize I'm keeping all those letters you sent. I'm putting them in my mother's jewelry box so I can show them to our daughters some day."
"I doubt they'll be all that interested in how…" Tenzin's head snapped up. "Our daughters?"
"Or sons," Pema shrugged. "Or both. It doesn't matter to me, really."
"Children." Tenzin took a deep breath, not daring to hope. "Pema, does this mean…?"
She regarded him archly. "Maybe. I haven't been properly asked, you know."
Tenzin smiled again and nodded. "Pema, I want you to know I love you very, very much. And I know that I haven't always been good at expressing that, or showing it."
"Go on," Pema said softly, encouraging him with her smile.
"I…Pema, my life isn't complete without you. Please come back to Air Temple Island with me. Marry me. Please."
"Hmmm, that is tempting," Pema nodded. "Let me think about it. I want one of those sticky buns first."
"Pema!"
"All right, all right," she laughed. "Yes, I'll marry you. As if I'd say no after all this…" She would have said more but Tenzin's tight embrace enveloped her body and soul. She kissed him and wrapped her arms around his neck, gently pulling him down beside her.
The sticky buns could wait.
