Chapter Nine

Meira's first reaction when the water came rushing in was to bend it toward her. As the torrent exploded through the tiny room, it slammed her into the nearest wall hard enough to knock the air out of her lungs. Instinctively, her chained hands clawed at the water, forcing the twisting currents to obey her will. She funneled the water around her, struggling to hold her breath despite the grey dots swarming her vision, and brought the water down where her chain was tethered to the wall. The thin links snapped apart, and the water carried her close to the door, away from the hole in the hull.

That was when Meira realized she couldn't swim.

Having spent her entire life in the eternal winter of the North Pole, Meira had never been able to remove her coat for more than a few minutes at a time, most of them inside her igloo. And though she'd felt the stinging pain of freezing water on her skin during her waterbending practice, she'd never been submerged long enough to learn the basic strokes of swimming. It seemed hideously ironic, as the saltwater overtook her, that a master waterbender would be unable to swim.

Her arms flailed through the salty fluid, bubbles breaking through her lips and coming up from her nostrils. Water encased her on every side, the pockets of air banished to the surface as the boat listed further. Her eyes opened just far enough for her to see Zelda clinging to the splintered edges of the hole, watching her with steady brown eyes. Her face was that of a child waiting for their older sibling to pick them up from bending practice. Patient, but not eager or distressed.

She's handling this so much better than me, Meira thought. All of it. Dealing with the pirates, thinking about what might happen to us, getting ready to swim away. And here, I'm supposed to the big sister.

I have to be strong, too. I have to keep her safe for Dad. She closed her eyes and focused all her energy on bringing the ship back up to the surface. The longer they were below sea level, the more likely they were to drown.

She brought her arms down in a slow, powerful movement, like the arms of a Koalaotter. The currents rushing through the cramped room shifted, water pushing its way out of the small compartment as she moved. The ship groaned and splintered, not equipped to handle such abuse. The pirates who'd invaded their prison cell a few minutes ago had long ago been washed away to some other part of the ship.

Closest to the hole, Zelda was the first to catch a breath. She stuck her head up through the opening and sucked in sharp gasp. Meira brought the water level down a few more feet, then took a ragged breath of her own. Her whole body had gone limp with adrenaline, but she managed to cough out a weak question. "You okay, sis?"

She waited a beat for Zelda to answer, then looked over to the soaked girl. An eerie orange light bounced off her skin, staining it bronze. Her dark eyes reflected what initially looked like dancing tufts of orange crepe paper. Meira cut her sister's chains with a carefully placed water whip. "Zelda?"

A drop of moisture ran down her sister's cheek, though whether it was a tear or water from the ocean, Meira couldn't be sure. The firebender opened her mouth as if to answer, then let loose a pitiful squeak, eyebrows pulling together in anguish.

Meira turned to look at whatever had captured her sister's attention, still panting after their prolonged submersion. Her field of vision filled with conflicting colors: fluttering tongues of orange rising up from blackened grass, dark plumes coming off rickety structures and rising up to form a black cloud in the sky, and specks of gray snow descending from the heavens.

Zelda spoke. "I don't feel so good . . ."

Something about her tone made Meira glance back. The firebender's face was paler than usual, her eyes wide spheres among her rounded features. Any other time, Meira might've focused in on Zelda's face, looking for signs of illness, but her eyes caught on a strange crescent on the edge of her vision.

The sun always looked distant in the North Pole. Along with the South Pole, their region received the least direct sunlight anywhere in the world. Here, the bright circle seemed so much closer, taking up a great part of the horizon. Where are we? she wondered, watching a shadow fall across the edge of the sun. The celestial anomaly confused her, along with all the other odd occurrences she'd witnessed today. But slowly, she realized the moon was blocking out the sun.

Another explosion erupted from the island.


General Shaio looked down at the burning city, smiling. "Brilliant," he murmured, taking a sip from his cup of tea. This time, it was warm and well made. It seems luck is on my side, he thought.

"Shall we ready the next set of bombs, General?" one of his soldiers asked.

"Yes. Drop them wherever you don't see fire."

"Yes sir." The soldier ducked back into the engine room, leaving him in peace. Convincing King Haran to go through with his plan had been the hard part, but now, all he had to do was watch over the Fire Nation as it burned to the ground.

How ironic, he thought. that the Fire Nation would fall victim to its own element on a day where they cannot produce flames of their own. General Shaio glanced up, seeing the black circle in the sky where the moon covered the sun. He estimated they had another four minutes before anyone regained their firebending. And by then, the city will have been razed to ash.

He returned his attention to the shivering patches of orange below and sipped his tea.


Taemin winced as another rumble rocked the bunker. A high-pitched whimper whipped through the tight-packed bodies as the walls shook.

That one must've been close, she thought, gritting her teeth. The vibrations were so intense, it made it seem like the bombs were landing right in the palace. For all I know, they are, she thought. They certainly seemed to have no reservations about it during the first wave.

When she'd seen the raindrop-shaped chunk of metal falling beyond her bedroom window, she'd assumed it was a modified air balloon crashing because some unfortunate firebender hadn't been aware of the eclipse. A tragic mistake, but only deadly for those on the balloon. When she'd seen the brilliant flash of white—the hellish, impossible fire—after the bomb hit the far corner of the palace, she'd realized how dire the situation was.

The shockwave alone had sent Taemin tumbling across her room and into the metal wall. Several seconds had gone by before she'd been able to catch her breath, and by then, everything outside her window was dyed a bloody orange. She'd snatched her stuffed tigerdillo from her bed and run out into the hall, looking for any sign of her mother. But Fire Lady Alasane had been nowhere in sight, and it had been one of her handmaids, not her mother, who had taken her by the wrist and dragged her down to the unused bunker where she stood now.

"Where's Mom?" she'd asked, when the black-haired woman had towed her past stone dragons and into the old metal room.

The woman had pulled the heavy door open, dropping to her knees when another explosion had rocked the palace above. Through the thunderous rumble, she'd yelled, "She's coming! Don't worry!"

Taemin had allowed herself to be pushed into the bunker, not even questioning it when her handmaid had raced back up the stairs leading to the main level. Other people—all nobles, as far as she could tell—had flooded into the small room in the following minutes, pushing her closer and closer to the wall until she'd been on the verge of crying. People had always listened to her, shown her the utmost courtesy. Such behavior was expected when speaking to a princess. Being ignored by everyone around her had at first confused her, then upset her.

"A princess must never weep," she whispered to herself as another bomb hit the palace above. Her father had told her that dozens of times since becoming Fire Lord. "A princess must never weep . . ."

She clutched her tigerdillo doll closer to her chest, closing her eyes. Droplets of sweat ran down her forehead and arms, a result of the body heat and the restriction on her firebending. This was the first eclipse she'd ever endured, and though she was aware of the sickening effects it had on firebenders, she couldn't help but think it could've come at a better time. Why would someone attack us when we're already so weak? she wondered, wrinkles forming around her eyes as they clenched tighter against the vibrations. Why couldn't they wait and fight fair?

It seemed like an unwritten rule that there was no speaking in the bunker. Either everyone was too afraid to be heard by the enemy, whoever they were, or there just wasn't anything to say. But as the explosions faded, silence crept into the little room. The cessation of sound made her uneasy. She didn't even sleep in complete silence—she had a music box on her dresser that played music until someone came in and shut it off for her. Mother used to do that, but not so much since she became Fire Lady . . .

The silence became a pressure on her eardrums, but she dared not break it. Whoever had attacked them might be sending in ground troops now that they were done dropping bombs, or at least that was what she'd guessed from the initial rush of conversation when everyone had first flooded the bunker. Of course, she'd heard a lot of things then, many of them conflicting. Some had said the Earth Kingdom had dropped the bombs, while another had claimed the Earth Kingdom had no air force. A couple nobles had chattered animatedly about the possibility of a terrorist attack before being shushed by a wrinkled woman. One had even claimed he'd seen a water tribe insignia on one of the airships.

That guy was crazy, Taemin thought. The water tribes don't have the military capabilities to create an airship, and even if they did, they don't have enough people to win a war.

The sickening effects of the eclipse began to wane, and the atmosphere in the bunker relaxed a little bit. I haven't heard anything in a long time. Maybe the airships are gone.

Minutes passed, stretching on until someone made note of the hour. Taemin stared at the corner, unable to let go of her tigerdillo doll when it was the only familiar thing in the vicinity. Her grandmother had given it to her seven summers ago, when she'd been five, for the annual Peace Celebration. But I guess there's not going to be peace anymore.

A harsh series of knocks came down on the door. "This is Admiral Rozen," came a female voice. "All surviving citizens and nobles are to evacuate the city immediately. Open up."

A balding man with a snow-colored beard opened the door, and everyone filed out, sluggish after over an hour in the tight space. Taemin followed the crowd, her legs tingling.

"Where's Mom?" she asked the woman. Admiral Rozen glanced down at her in annoyance.

"There's no time for that now. Get upstairs."

Taemin felt an unfamiliar surge of anger. "I want my mom. Where is she?"

Another soldier tapped the brunette's armored shoulder and whispered something in her ear. A grim look crossed her face, followed by something akin to pity. "Where's my mom?" Taemin whispered again, her voice hoarse.

Admiral Rozen knelt down and laid two gloved hands on Taemin's shoulder. "I'm sorry Princess, but your mother wasn't in the bunker."

The words sunk in, like molasses sinking into a bowl of cake mix. Young as she was, she understood the significance of that statement. No one could've survived out in the open, she thought, tears budding in her eyes. Especially not during an eclipse. "She was outside?"

Admiral Rozen nodded once. "She was outside."

The world rotated around her, like it sometimes did when she spun around a lot during her firebending practice. Only this time, when she fell, she didn't get back up.