At night, Zuko walked alone through the corridors of the Western Air Temple. Lit by the single flame in his hand, the statues and murals seemed to come alive. He knew it was a trick of flickering flame, but the eyes of every air bender and bison seemed to follow him as he walked. The statues were even creepier. He stopped to look at a carving of an air bending master. She was smiling, but a chunk of her face had crumbled away. Her remaining eye was completely empty, carved smooth without iris or pupil. It stared at him in judgment.

There was a thick layer of carbon on the ceiling above her.

Katara had followed Zuko, walking barefoot to stay silent in the stone halls. She was certain that the prince was plotting something against Aang.

She saw him stop in front of a pillar that was carved to look like a woman. He was still for a long time, then reached out and touched a place where the statue was broken. His flame went out, and she waited for her eyes to adjust to the moonlight.

Zuko was on his knees, holding his head in his hands. She saw him shaking.

"Zuko?" Katara stepped out from the shadows. The fire prince jumped up and fell into a bending stance, then relaxed as soon as he recognized her. "What are you doing here?" he challenged her. She folded her arms and answered, "Making sure you don't hurt anyone."

"Yes." His eyes were sad, and vacant. "Yes, that's a very good idea," he said softly, and laughed as he slumped to the floor. "Ask them," he gestured toward the mural on the wall. "They know how dangerous I am, too. But they can't tell you, because they're all dead. All of them." He wrapped his arms around his knees, and buried his face against his knees.

Katara didn't know what to do. She was tempted to leave him wallowing in his guilt. Then it registered that he was feeling guilty. "Feeling" and "guilty" were two words she would not have associated with Zuko, not since the cave at Bah Sing Se. He spoke to her without raising his head, "Just go away, and leave me alone with the dead."

Katara was taken aback; that was morbid. "You can't get away with it, Zuko. Self-pity isn't going to fix anything." She sat on the floor next to him. "You can't change what happened, Zuko. But you can change what happens now."

He raised his head, and looked at her so intensely that her heart skipped. "I'm good now, Katara. I know you don't believe that, but I want to help the Avatar. I want to stop my father. It's not about my destiny anymore," he gestured toward the statue, "it's about them." He paused, "My grandfather did this. He wiped out an entire race of people for power and glory. I might turn into that kind of monster."

Katara rested her hand on his scarred face. "You aren't a monster, Zuko. You just…you're like an iceberg, and you need to melt before you can change your shape." Zuko smiled, "You sound like Uncle." He turned away to look at the murals, again. They were different, in the moonlight.

In the morning, Toph found them asleep in the hallway. Katara lay against the wall, her body curled around Zuko's back. He was clinging to one of her arms. Although Toph couldn't see the peaceful expression on the prince's face, she felt the couple take every quiet breath together. Just this once, she thought, she'd keep Sokka and Aang away for a while.