Korra's head felt like it had been filled with snow, then stomped on by a hundred elephant-buffalos. She attempted to sit up, and a groan escaped her before she could stifle it.

"Careful, Avatar," said a dark voice.

Korra only sat up faster at that. Her head swam in a whirlwind of pain, and she grimaced, clutching her palm against her forehead. She slipped her eyes past the cracks in her fingers, her stomach tightening at the sight of the masked man, seated only a few yards away.

"Or you could ignore my advice. I don't care either way."

"Amon," she rasped, her voice sounding like she hadn't used it in a decade. She struggled to remember what had happened. The only image that flashed before her eyes was a roil of churning water, black and gray, and someone carrying her across a sea of white. She closed her eyes, trying to clear her head. "What… what are you doing here?"

"At the present moment, drying off. In the near future? Bringing you to headquarters to face justice."

Korra's head hurt. She pushed herself up on one elbow, taking in her surroundings. She sat against the smooth stone wall of a cave. The firelight flickered over a high, domed ceiling, spattered with thin stalactites tipped with ice. As Korra peered around, she gradually became aware that her clothes stuck to her body with uncomfortable wetness. Slow, curling steam rose off her leggings in the heat of the flames. She looked back at the Equalist leader. His dark robes hung on his body, heavy with water. He was soaked, too. She struggled to remember. What had happened?

"Justice?" She tried to glare at Amon, but she couldn't pull the expression across her tired face. "You mean you were planning on kidnapping me. Just like Tarrlok."

"I prefer the term civil detainment."

Korra heaved a dry laugh. "Right. Out of the frying pan and into the fire. I can't say if I'd rather have handled the councilman myself."

He snorted, though as usual his cold mask showed no expression. "You were doing a fine job of that."

Korra managed to scowl at him this time. "If you're expecting me to say thank you, forget it. I would've gotten out of there eventually, had you showed up or not." She hesitated. "Speaking of which, where are your little Equalists? I've never seen them more than a leash-length away."

Amon stirred the fire with a blackened stick, sending sparks soaring out the cave entrance and into the night sky. Korra noticed for the first time how dark it was. Stars were just starting to peek out of the clear sapphire expanse, glittering down at her. She wondered if Aang was up there, watching. What would he think of her sitting here, conversing with her enemy?

"I take it then you didn't kill them."

Amon's voice snapped her back to attention. Korra couldn't suppress a start of surprise, followed swiftly by indignation.

"What?" she snapped. "You think I'd stoop that low—to your level? I've never killed anyone in my life."

Amon watched her, his golden eyes inscrutable through the shadows of his mask. "To my level," he murmured. "Again, Avatar, your assumptions are misguided. I have never killed anyone in Republic City."

Korra glared at him, hiding her surprise at the answer. "Oh? So I take it that means you've killed elsewhere? A murderer's a murderer, no matter the location."

She thought she saw Amon's eyes narrow beneath the cowl of his hood. But he said nothing. Korra sat in the silence for a stiff moment, not taking her eyes off him. Her gaze rested on the spot of charred black on the right cheekbone of his ivory mask. A memory sparked. An unyielding weight on top of her, desperation coiling in her chest, unleashed in a wild yell of exploding flames. Korra felt her eyes widen. The river. The ice. The falling, flailing, that voice. That voice that had told her to save him, her enemy, from the surging river… and she'd obeyed.

A shiver ran through her. Here she sat, just a fire's length away from her greatest enemy, her greatest fear… and she'd saved his life. She felt nausea curl in her stomach. Why had she done it? What had come over her? If she'd let him drown, the war would be over.

If you'd let him drown, a voice said in the back of her head. You'd be lying frozen on the riverbank.

She curled onto her side, drawing her knees up to her chest. A shiver slid through her, and she fought to contain her chattering teeth. She wished Naga were here. The polar bear-dog's warmth would be a welcome relief to the numbing cold.

The silence stretched. For a long moment, there was nothing but the crackle of the flames. Korra swallowed, loathing herself for her need to break the quiet.

"So, waterbender, huh?" She glanced across the fire to where he sat. "That's pretty low, you know, lying to your followers like that. Is the scar even real?"

For a moment, she thought he wasn't going to answer. Then, slowly, he raised his chin a fraction. His golden eyes were cold, matching his tone. "Yes."

Korra blinked. Then she frowned. "Well, I guess that means your hyped-up little backstory's not total fiction." She hesitated. "You're not from Republic City, are you?"

He didn't respond. Just stared out over the flames, the dancing light reflecting in his golden eyes. Korra noticed the color, slowly fitting the pieces together.

"You can't be Water Tribe," she mused. "Not with eyes like that. Fire Nation?"

"I'm not discussing my origins with you, Avatar."

"Fine, whatever. Just sit there and mope for all I care. I was just trying to make conversation."

Korra rolled over onto her other side, her back to the flames. She felt the heat soak into her wet overwrap, soothing the sore muscles. She let out a small sigh. Why had she even bothered? Making conversation with her enemy, trying to be civil. She wrapped her arms around herself, her muscles trembling as the cold nipped at her skin. The warmth at her back did nothing to allay the chill across her front. She found herself wishing she could roll back over again, but that would only re-expose her back to the frigid night. Gritting her teeth to keep from chattering, she tightened herself into a ball, every muscle shuddering in protest. She shut her eyes. She wished she had the strength to waterbend the half-frozen river water off herself. But her core, the center of her power, had wilted with cold and exhaustion. She shivered, unable to stop herself now. She couldn't remember ever being this cold. Not even at her home in the Northern Water Tribe, when she'd been surrounded by snow and ice at every turn. Perhaps she'd gone soft since coming to Republic City. Once she got back, she'd have to make a point to get herself re-accustomed to the chill of the winter lands. She wouldn't allow herself to be caught helpless in the cold like this again.

A dark thought flitted across her consciousness. If she ever got back. She pushed the misgiving aside. No, she couldn't allow herself to think like that. She'd recover her strength here at the fireside, then part ways with her enemy and make her way back up the mountainside to the nearest lodging. She had no idea how far away Tarrlok had taken her from Republic City. But even a mountain dweller would recognize the long-publicized face of his Avatar. She could get a ride to the city and pay him for his services once they arrived. That is… if Amon didn't prove to make good on his threat to bring her to the revolutionist headquarters. Korra doubted she was in the state to fight him should it come to that. But then again, he hardly looked in top condition. She'd seen the blood on his arm, heard the pitch of his breathing, the sound of a man in pain. If the Spirits were with her, she hoped the two of them would be able to simple separate, postponing the inevitable showdown to another time, another place.

Korra drew her arms more tightly around herself. The shivers had taken over, and it was all she could do not to chatter like a frozen squirrel-monkey.

"You'd dry off faster if you removed those sodden garments."

The voice made her choke. Flipping over, Korra jerked herself upright and glared, open-mouthed, at the man across the fire.

"Why would I do that?" she demanded, her voice higher than she'd intended.

Her met her gaze unflinchingly. "Survival."

Korra glared at him. Then her eyes, against her will, traveled downward. She realized he'd removed his soaked black robe and hood, and laid them out flat by the fire. She must not have heard him take them off. Steam curled up from the fabric as it dried, just like it did on Korra's clothes. He wore only his armor-plated black pants, leaving his chest bare. Powerful muscles rippled in his broad torso as he leaned forward, straightening out his drenched robes beside the fire. His arms, tanned and evenly toned, came back to rest on his knees.

Korra jerked her eyes away, color warming her face as she realized she'd been staring. Without another word, she turned on her side again, facing away from the fire. She tried to focus her thoughts on something—anything—but the cold. She went over in her head her plan of escape should Amon try to prevent her from leaving once the sun rose. His arm was the weak point—she had to target that. A cruel enough jab to that wound and he'd be down, if at least a few moments, long enough for her to escape.

The cold wrapped its icy arms around her, turning her breath to mist on the frigid air. Korra gritted her teeth. Spirits, she couldn't concentrate with the way her body was trembling. With a low growl, she sat up and kicked off her waterlogged boots. Then she shrugged off her damp parka, tossing it in a heap in front of the fire. Now, in just her half-tank top and leggings, she felt the heat wash over her. She scooted closer to the fire, pointedly not looking over in his direction. Freezing or not, she wasn't shedding any more clothing. As it was she'd never been this exposed before a man, in just her thin undershirt. But she pushed any hints of embarrassment from her mind. She didn't care. Right now, the basic desire to get warm trumped anything else.

Already the fire was soaking into her pores, warming her blood and easing the tension from her muscles. She found herself relaxing, rolling her head in slow circles back on her neck to stretch out the kinks. She glanced sideways at her companion.

"So… what happens now?"

Amon looked at her, something akin to disdain in those golden eyes. "What do you mean, Avatar?"

"I mean, we're not trying to kill each other."

"That would be unproductive, given our current condition. I need you alive… for now. And I do not find it civil to take an enemy's bending without a fair fight. It wouldn't do to have you become a martyr for all the benders of Republic City to rally behind. No, I will destroy you in a fair match, with many eyes to witness your defeat."

Korra hesitated. "So… I hope that means you won't try to take my bending if I go to sleep?"

"I give you my word."

Korra glared at him. "Your word doesn't mean much, after you cheated in our last encounter on Avatar Aang Memorial."

"I broke no agreement. You staked out on Memorial Island with the foolish notion that we would play only by your rules. I never gave my word."

Korra hesitated, longer this time. The prospect of catching a few hours of sleep was too good to pass up. Already she could feel her eyelids drooping, her body sagging toward the ground. Holding her enemy in her sights, Korra curled up on the ground, facing the fire. The cold washed over her back in icy waves. She wished she could inch closer to the fire, but that would mean scooting closer to Amon; something she was loath to do. So instead, she hugged her knees to her chest, burying her face in her still damp leggings.

She wondered if the others were worried about her. Tenzin would no doubt be frantic. She wondered if they'd organized a search party for her. Mako and Bolin would probably be heading it up, perhaps with Asami and Lin. Had they found out Tarrlok was behind her abduction yet? She'd heard the councilman had blamed the Equalists for her disappearance. She didn't know what she'd rather have happen to her kidnapper. Tarrlok would face the criminal justice court if he were captured by the police force. But — and a vengeful grin twisted Korra's lips — who knew what kind of horrible things Tarrlok would face at the hands of the Equalists. More than enough punishment to avenge what he'd done to her. A part of her realized she should feel guilty for thinking such thoughts, feel sorry for the cruel man, but she couldn't bring herself to feel any sympathy. Tarrlok had brought this all upon himself the moment he threw a hail of deadly ice shards at her face in his office at City Hall.

Korra felt the cold slowly begin its creep back into her body. She drew her arms tighter around herself, but she couldn't ward it off. A shiver rippled through her.

Then, without warning, the cold disappeared. A sudden warmth at her back made her stiffen. She turned to see him—him—sliding to the ground beside her, propping himself up on one elbow.

"What do you think you're—"

"Don't flatter yourself," he snapped. "I can't have you becoming an Avatar icicle. You'd only reincarnate somewhere in the Earth Kingdom, and it would be a precious waste of my time and resources to track you down again."

Korra bit her lip. The warmth radiating from his body beside her did wonders to ward off the chill. With an irritated sigh, she relented. "Fine. But any funny business, and I'll turn that mask into a pile of chalk."

He snorted. "Please. You wouldn't even tempt me."

Korra laughed at the surprising insult. "Oh? So Amon has a type, now? Well, I'm glad I'm not one of those unfortunate old women."

"Old?" A low chuckle sounded from his chest. Korra blinked. It was the first time she'd ever heard him laugh. It… was a nice sound. "You insult me, Avatar."

"What are you, like forty? Fifty?"

"I'm thirty-one."

Korra was so astonished she rolled around to face him. "What? That's… only two years older than my brother."

His shadowed eyes registered a flash of surprise. "I wasn't aware you had siblings."

"Two, actually. Older brother and a younger sister." Korra felt a twinge of sadness run through her at the mention of them. "I haven't seen her since her fifth birthday. The White Lotus never let me out of the compound."

A silence fell between them. Then, in a voice much softer than his usual rumbling baritone, he asked, "What's her name?"

"Priska." Korra smiled, closing her eyes to the memory of that little mocha face, those big blue eyes, that wild tangly hair that fought every comb. "She's a little spitfire. It's her biggest dream to develop her waterbending talents enough to come to Republic City and become a pro-bending player." Her tone darkened. "I suppose that won't happen for a while, though, after you blew it to smithereens."

This time the silence stretched longer. Amon cleared his throat. "We should get some rest."

Korra opened her eyes, her cheeks darkening when she realized who she'd been talking to about her family. "Right."

She rolled over, facing the fire once more, and closed her eyes. As she drifted into oblivion, her last thought wasn't of how terrifying the dark man behind her was… she was thinking of the sound of his laugh.