WiltingDaisies94: Installment #3. Happy reading.


Chapter 3

There was a long moment.

Then an anxious murmur ran through the crowd.

Katara's brain, dizzy from the Priestess' concoction, wondered how she could have heard the reaction to her own death. Had she become a spirit so quickly? Had she died without even feeling her executioner's blade?

A tangle of frightened noises rose from the courtyard. A man barked commands - perhaps it was Hau, though Katara did not know his voice. Her eyes opened, and Katara looked up.

She was greeted by the most extraordinary sight.

Hovering above the Ice Temple, like a creature from one of her grandmother's stories, a great beast soared through the sky. Its enormous, leathery wings beat the air, and Katara stared, her mouth hanging open. The creature was long in the body and white as the snow around it. Sharp claws protruded from two sets of strong legs, and from her position, Katara could just see a figure seated atop the creature's neck.

She watched in awe as the flying serpent opened its mouth and spewed icy blue flames into the courtyard.

Katara's hands jumped to shield her face.

His task forgotten, Hau dropped the ceremonial club and sprinted down the platform. Three of the temple acolytes clustered around the White Priestess, trying to save her from the fire. The fourth had fallen from the platform, and lay unmoving in the snow below.

A barrage of ice and water shot into the sky, and Katara peeked through her fingers, curious in spite of her fear. A handful of waterbenders had rushed forward, their arms raised in attack. Katara was surprised by how few highborn men had the ability - many were fleeing back to the temple, calling for guards, who appeared instantly and rushed into battle.

Katara watched, fascinated. Three men were stirring a whirlpool above their heads, their faces furrowed in concentration. With a cry, they released the attack, and the spinning water tore through the sky. This was followed by a volley of spears, some of ice, some of bone, from benders and warriors alike. The weapons soared through the sky, aimed at the creature's vulnerable underbelly.

Katara had never witnessed such skill. The only waterbender in her village was Isan, an ancient transplant from the Northern Water Tribes. But her bending was for helping the sick and wounded - closing cuts, soothing fevers, saving lives. Once, Katara had seen Isan pull a struggling child back from the waves, but it was a great effort for the elderly woman. Katara had helped Isan back to her cottage, and felt the exhausted heaves of her ribcage.

In all her life, Katara had never witnessed the true power of waterbending. She felt insignificant beside the display.

From her perch, Katara recognized Hau fighting below. Her would-be executioner had torn away the cumbersome ceremonial robes, and his torso rippled with the hard muscles of martial training. She shivered at the sight, but Hau seemed not to feel the cold as he moved through a complex sequence of steps. Pulling a boulder's worth of ice from the ground, he catapulted it into the air.

The courtyard rocked from the impact, and one of the statues of the Moon Goddess toppled, landing face-first in the snow. A bad omen.

A roar brought Katara's attention back to the sky, where the creature effortlessly dodged the hostile volleys, its body easing from side to side, coiling and unwinding. With stunning speed, it flew towards the temple, blue flame splitting Hau's ice boulder into a million snowy crystals. The scaly forearms extended, and with a thud that made Katara cling to the altar, the beast landed in the courtyard.

It was more than white, Katara realized. The creature's scales were beautifully opal, subtle shades of coral, jade, and sky-blue shifting across its skin. More teeth than Katara could count appeared as the fanged mouth widened. She saw the glow begin, rising from the creature's throat. Was it fire? Ice? Both? The serpent expelled another fantastic breath, and snow evaporated around the courtyard as the devastating stream passed by.

"You."

Katara whipped around, the heavy crown falling from her head. The White Priestess had emerged from the protective huddle of her acolytes, one of whom had fainted. Her ancient face was contorted with rage, and she pointed an accusing finger across the platform. "You brought this on us. Unworthy whore."

Whore? Her? Katara stared dumbly at the Priestess.

Shaking off her attendants, the old woman advanced. "Was it one of the guards?" she hissed, her hands outstretched. "Damn that serving wench! I warned her to report any impropriety. By the Goddess, I'll have her whipped until she begs for death. But you," the Priestess said, raising a finger, "you first."

The smallest voice in Katara's head burst into hysterical laughter. It was unreal: behind her, a small battalion of waterbenders battling a fearsome beast of legend, and before her, a murderous old woman with earlobes hanging down to her shoulders. If ever there was a time to go mad…

But her rational mind dove for control, and before Katara fully understood what she was doing, she had released her grip on the altar and was scrambling for the ceremonial club Hau had abandoned.

For all her ancient bones, the White Priestess seemed to fly across the platform. The two women grappled with each other, youth and age locked in a cruel contest. The White Priestess had fury on her side, but her wrinkled hands held the thick head of the club, which was hard to grip.

It slid from her hand, and with a frustrated cry, the Priestess hurled herself forward.

There was no hesitation. Katara lifted the club over her shoulder and swung with all her might. The weapon collided with the Priestess' head, a sickening crack that echoed in the air, and the old woman crumpled at her feet, a spatter of blood staining the snow.

Katara heard shrieks from the acolytes, the scamper of feet as they fled. She stared at her hands, stunned. Had she…? Was she…?

She tossed the weapon aside. Blood pooled beneath the Priestess' head, and Katara turned away, sick to her stomach. Half the courtyard was ablaze with icy fire, and her limbs swayed beneath her. Whatever had been in that goblet was playing tricks on her, Katara was sure of it. She buried her face in her hands, wishing it all away.

But there was no peace to be found, and a stream of hot air engulfed her. Katara looked up, and found herself face-to-face with the flying serpent. Its huge head swayed before her, a single eye, dark as slate, resting on her face. The creature lowered its neck, and the rider came into view, level with the platform.

He was an older man with grey hair and a pointed beard. His lilac robe, Katara noticed, was minutely embroidered with pale flowers. Purple and white. Colors without allegiance.

Is he a spirit? Katara considered. He looked very real.

"Daughter of Jala," the man said, and his voice was deep and calm, as if the fighting below disturbed him not at all. "You must come with me."

He held out a hand, and his eyes were grave. But there was a kindness to them, a sympathy that reminded Katara strangely of her grandmother.

"Please," the old man said. "Your world depends on it."

Dazed, Katara looked at the extended hand. It was steady. Sturdy. It would take her away from all this… from the bloody club, from Hau, son of Roka, and his crushing grip. From the prone Priestess, still splayed on the platform beside her.

Stumbling forward, Katara took the offered hand, and the old man pulled her onto the beast's back. As cries of anger rose from the assembled warriors, Katara gripped the old man's robe, her free hand taking hold of the creature's saddle. With a roar that shook Katara down to her bones, the great serpent unfolded its wings, and - toppling the raised platform with its tail - bore her away into the sky.