Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender; the show and its original characters, location, etc. are ©Mike, Bryan and Nickelodeon. Sura, Kamala, and all other original locations and characters are © me, Lady Asvin.
Chapter 10: Salvation
The cold had already seeped into his limbs, making it difficult to wake up, when he heard the grating noise that morning. He struggled to raise his eyelids, forced himself awake – and it was only when he turned that he realized that she was no longer in bed next to him, that his mother was missing also, that he was alone in the room as the wind whistled desolately through the mountaintop chamber.
"Mom?" he rasped, the cold freezing the words before they had made it all the way out of his mouth. " 'tara?"
"You won't find them here," echoed an unsympathetic voice. Despite the lack of complete walls, the sound reverberated, vibrating in his ears until he covered them in a futile effort to escape the pain. His eyes were a blaze of lights and stars, the result of an unimaginable pressure squeezing relentlessly down on his senses of hearing and sight.
"I've already dealt with your mother and your woman," snarled the voice, each syllable driving pain deeper into his skull. "You're the only one left…"
Zuko's world swam as he forced his eyes open; he couldn't, wouldn't believe that his mother was dead, that Katara was dead – this whole journey had opened his eyes better than his entire lifetime had, and he'd be damned if he just let that sudden clarity slide away while he was sleeping in an a happy post-coupling glow.
"Show yourself," he barked, taking a firebending stance. "SHOW YOURSELF, COWARD!" A soft chuckling brought fresh stars to his eyes, but he fought against falling to his knees.
"Happy to oblige," said the voice, chucking again. "All you have to do is move the curtain…" The curtain that served as the only entrance to room fluttered, mocking him, and he pushed himself, one step at a time, toward it. Time seemed to move more and more slowly, his limbs felt like lead – and throughout it all, his mind was opened to sounds of pain that he could not identify as either his own or anyone else's.
"Those are spirits stopping you," said the voice, an edge of anger tainting its former calm. "Those are the spirits of each and every person ever killed by an elemental bender. And they are dragging you down, taking you down to a world they would not have joined but for your kind…" His head was assaulted by cries, shrieks of fear and agony, of mass killings and personal slaughters… and then that voice, one with which he had recently become all-too-familiar, standing out even in that cacophonous barrage:
"Don't listen to her, Zuko… Ursa and I are here; we'll figure a way out, just stay away and stay alive!"
Bossy as ever, but her words broke the hold the room had on him and he sprinted, wide-awake, in full defiance of her wishes, toward the fluttering curtain. He charred them with a single blast and kept right on sprinting into the maze of tunnels and passages Ursa had led them through just the previous day. The smell of iron invaded his nose, and he threw a fireball ahead of him down a small tunnel.
A wide trail of quickly-freezing blood winked back at him.
Cursing loudly, he turned down that tunnel, feet beating in a frantic staccato toward a scene he was sure would match those he had seen – and caused – during the war. He tripped on something that sent him sprawling forward, and he barely had time to register that he had activated one of his mother's traps before he was flinging himself against the tunnel wall to avoid the rain of poisonous darts falling on the spot he'd too recently inhabited.
"Keep running," mocked the voice. "You're so close…" He rounded a corner and stopped abruptly. Blocking his path were none other than Hong and Ming Ya, armed with short crossbows. Hong was wearing a look of utter hatred; Ming Ya was alternately looking hurt, angry, and confused.
"Move," said Zuko, fists balled at his sides. "Please, I mean you no harm." Ming Ya shifted nervously, but Hong stopped her with a scathing glance and trained his crossbow on Zuko. The fur-lined hood on his parka rippled ominously in a breeze Zuko did not feel.
"I'm sorry," said Ming Ya in a low voice. "I really liked you, and your wife was so lovely…" Her voice was regretful, but series of pained and angry looks flitted across her features. Her bony fingers gripped the crossbow for all it was worth.
"No benders in Tanarak," growled Hong simply, and Zuko threw himself on the ground as the man's finger flexed over the crossbow trigger. An arrow whizzed over his head, a second following closely as Ming Ya loosed her own. They reloaded and aimed at him on the ground, their misses coming closer and closer to becoming successes.
"Please," grunted Zuko, rolling and snapping from place to place. "The war is over. There is no elemental strife, we live in harmony, benders and non-benders-" He dodged arrows, but he came to realize that, while one set remained determinedly close to him, the other was growing more and more erratic in its path. Was he getting through?
"Just let me pass…" he had barely rolled out of the way of an anticipated arrow when, heart sinking, he heard one whistling toward his chest. An unpredictable arrow, loosed by Ming Ya, had found its way to him in the dark of the tunnel…
Is this what it feels like? He thought to himself, his world a hazy blue.
I don't see my life flashing before my eyes.
I'm still in pain.
But the arrow never even hit me, I'm sure of it…
././././././././
"That wraps up today, my pupils," said the instructor. "Roll up your packs, and enjoy your evening." The rustle of leather and tools and subsequent shuffling of feet informed the healer that her class was making its way out of the temple atrium.
"Sifu Kamala?" asked a voice, accompanied by a light touch on her shoulder. The woman turned her hazy eyes toward her student.
"Yes, Yuuan?" Slippered feet shuffled nervously beneath robes.
"I have a message from Sifu Toph. She says to please meet her in the stone pit as soon as you can… she says it is important, and that Regent General Iroh will be there also." Kamala nodded, back straighter, sightless eyes brightening – perhaps Toph and Iroh had information about her step-daughter? – and stood from her bench.
"Thank you, Yuuan. You may go, I am leaving immediately." The student shuffled off and Kamala put two fingers to her lips and whistled for her secretary. Jian Ji arrived as she usually did, disheveled but ready to serve.
"Yes, my lady?" she gasped slightly, out of breath.
"Take me to the stone pit, please," said Kamala, and the secretary offered her arm. "You may also say whatever it is you wish to say, Jian Ji, you seem anxious." The secretary nodded, shifting her books to her other arm.
"Well, Lady Kamala, there have been rumors that the Avatar has returned to the Temple," said the secretary. "They say he has brought his son back, and that Tenzin has a fever no healer is able to cure." Kamala's brow wrinkled.
"When did they arrive?" she asked, her fingers tightening on the secretary's arm.
"Moments ago, my lady, and I think that is why you are being summoned… I have not seen him, but the maids and the students can't stop talking about it. Teachers are being told to keep quiet, if they know, and if they don't know they are not being informed." Kamala's mouth tightened to something between a smile and a grimace.
"And how is it that you know, Jian Ji?" The secretary laughed nervously.
"General Iroh hired me for my ability to keep quiet and look out," replied the girl.
"Keep quiet?" Kamala arched an eyebrow at Jian Ji.
"I thought you should know!" she exclaimed defensively. "Aren't you happy I told you?" Kamala nodded distractedly. Her mind was on the Avatar and his son, and Tenzin's mother… Kamala's own step-daughter. Something deep in her gut told her the boy's fever and Katara's absence were connected.
"Here we are," announced Jian Ji, and Kamala could hear the heavy dropping, pounding, and cracking of stone against stone. "And here comes Miss Bei Fong." Heavy sliding announced the arrival of the earthbender on a literal landslide.
"Thank you, Jian Ji. I'll take it from here." The petite Earth-Rumble-Champion-turned-school-founder stomped up to Kamala, hands on her hips.
"Lady Kamala, we need your help, and we need you to keep quiet about it." Never one to mince words, that girl, but the situation seemed too serious to laugh. Kamala bowed her head and put a hand on Toph's shoulder.
"Tell me what you need me to do."
././././././././
Katara had been hanging from her shackles for long enough that her wrists were raw and her arms had fallen asleep. Her clothes were weighing her down; more from cruelty than anything, she thought, they had trussed her up with the enormous Tanarak parka still on.
Think, she told herself. Think.
There was no way for her to bend in this room – it was all stone and all dry, not a single bit of her element within range. She wasn't even sweating, so even if she could free her hands to bend, she really had nothing at all to bend with.
Think.
Across the room from her, Zuko's mother hung in a similar position; her chin was jutting out defiantly, not giving an inch despite having hung from her wrists for hours. Her side was also covered in dried blood; her fight against the attackers that had dragged them to the room had resulted in a stab on her side from a venomous arrow. The wound had smoked a bit and then bled ceaselessly, up until the moment when her hands were literally tied.
Think.
And that was when Zuko was dragged into the room into the room, limp – lifeless? – and Katara finally lost it.
"What did you DO TO HIM?" Her bloody wrists screamed in agony as she twisted her body so her legs could climb up the wall.
"You MONSTERS!" Perched on the wall, Katara saw that the hooded people had turned to her, training crossbows on her back. A whiff of iron had come with them, and she had an idea.
"Shoot me," she said slowly, smiling grimly. "SHOOT ME, you cowards!" One of the attackers, face hidden by the typical yellow parka, shakily pointed the crossbow; the other pointed and shot without hesitation, aiming for Katara's heart through her back. At that exact moment, Katara dropped, and the steel arrow struck her shackle, directly hitting its weakest point – the hole where the key should have gone. She dropped to her feet with the grace of a cat and turned, eyes blazing, to the attackers.
"You'll pay for what you did to him," said Katara, and furiously raised a hand. The attackers found themselves involuntarily dropping their crossbows and forced to the ground, prostrate before her. Breaths came ragged from the pair as they battled with their traitorous bodies, hearts that refused to pump, lungs that refused to expand and contract.
No, please!
The small voice came from somewhere inside of her.
Don't do this. They are not the ones at fault here. The small voice was joined by an older, wiser one. Katara dropped her wrist, releasing her prisoners, and looked around for the voices.
"Why do you not kill them, young one?" asked the voice Katara had long ago come to recognize as Nawang's. "You want to. I know you do." The waterbender's wrist tightened reflexively, causing a slight convulsion from the pair before her, but the voices of reason intervened again.
Don't do this, please. There is too much pain already. Violence… violence is never the answer, the young voice pleaded with her.
Daughter, listen to him – this is not the person you have grown to be. Your Tribe, your family, your friends – they know you can do better than this. Even during the war, with Yon Rha, you did better than this.
Her hands dropped to her sides, and she dropped to her knees.
Tell me what to do, Katara pleaded silently. How do I resolve this? They killed Zuko, and they'll kill Ursa and I… not one of us will be left!
Mom… please…
For a moment, the world was silent, and then the young voice again sounded.
Wait.
Slowly, almost imperceptibly, Zuko's chest began to rise and fall.
Just wait.
A rasping breath, but no consciousness.
It is not them you're after, it's Nawang.
The couple had begun to inch back, weapons abandoned, but Katara wasn't ready to let them go just yet.
"You two," she said from the ground, still on her knees, voice low. "Bring back Nawang. Tell her it's time to face me." They scuttled from her sight and Katara hurried to unshackle Ursa. The woman groaned, the wound in her side spewing a fresh stream of blood even through the clotted mess on her clothes.
"Are you ok?" the woman asked Katara, and the waterbender grasped her by the shoulders.
"Am I ok? You're the one with the hole in your side!" The blind woman smiled at Katara, a young face beaming with old wisdom.
"I have been through worse, dearest." Katara accepted that and released the woman, guiding her toward where Zuko lay breathing shallowly. The pallor on his normally pale face was enough to frighten her, but she simply placed his mother's hands on his prone form and squeezed her shoulder.
"Take care of him until this fight is over… please." The humble hurt and overwhelming love and concern in her voice made Ursa sure that this girl, this waterbender, was her son's true match. Mai had always been a nice girl, of course, and a good candidate for a wife if the war hadn't changed everything… if Ursa's son had become as his father was. But this Chief Katara of the Southern Water Tribe… this was a warrior, strong in opinion as she was in ability. She knew how to protect and defend, and she loved Zuko… that much was easy enough to see, now.
And as for Zuko… well, Ursa had known Zuko loved Katara from the moment he tucked her into bed in front of her, a tenderness that nearly broke her heart when he insisted they were only friends.
"So, you've decided to fight, have you?" The icy voice whistled through the room, and the temperature dropped a dozen degrees in the span of a few moments.
Katara settled into a waterbending stance, said nothing, and waited.
"Fine," spat the voice. "So be it!" A spirit materialized before Katara; it was Nawang, but her body and face seemed to be transparent, roiling waves of red and black crashing back and forth, humming under her skin. Her white hair had come free of its braids, trailing a long way behind her as she advanced on Katara, hands out, fingers like talons. She swiped the air in front of Katara's nose and a long gash opened up on Katara's right cheekbone, drawing all the way down to her neck.
Before she could respond, another gash was growing on her side and another on her leg, and Katara had to bite back the pain before raising her own hands.
"Not this time," she muttered. "I'm tired of being handled!" She raised her wrists and gathered every last ounce of strength in her before bringing them down; at first, Nawang seemed to stumble and pull down, and Katara thought she had succeeded; but then, the spirit rushed at her, pulling Katara's hair and grasping at her neck.
"Stupid girl, I'm not a mortal – I've no blood to bend!" She laughed hysterically and clawed at Katara, choking her. Katara screamed and bit as hard as she could, kicking Nawang in the ribs, fighting, fighting to no avail. Her world began to swim before her, black invading her vision.
Is this it? Suddenly, the woman's grasp weakened, and Katara felt air rushing back into her lungs. She kicked fiercely and heard the very mortal sound of cracking ribs before Nawang crumpled before her. A black cloud rose out as the corpse grew older and older, shriveling until it was nothing but dust. The cloud expanded to take over the room, blocking the exit, expanding and condensing into a heavy layer of dread, fear, and hate.
You still tried to kill me? Asked the voice self-righteously. Katara squinted and saw why Nawang had released her – Ursa was holding a lethal-looking hairpin that was eroding as the corpse had eroded.
The black fog filtered into their noses and eyes, taking them down.
You can never kill me! I am a spirit of Ko, the Face Stealer!
Katara ran to Ursa, and both women fell onto Zuko. They could see nothing except each other now, and that was slowly fading as the room filled with black.
Mom… help me… pleaded Katara desperately. Mom, what do I do? But instead of her mother's voice, the young voice from before answered her.
Mom, listen to me, said the voice. It reverberated in Katara's skull, unrecognizable but so deeply familiar that it tugged at her heartstrings.
Tenzin?
Mom, dad and I are here. Dad is going to help you with that evil spirit, through me, through the Spirit World… just hang on, mom, please.
Katara felt herself fading fast, but she clutched at Ursa and Zuko and nodded.
I trust you.
She opened herself to her son, and through him saw all the travels he had with his father… all of the negotiations he had learned to make, the skills he had been taught… she saw how he had often wondered about his mother, how often he speculated about his people and the way of the monks… all of her son's lifetime swirled through Katara's head, making her dizzy, and then another conscious made its way in.
Katara?
Aang…
Katara, I'm going to have to…
And everything went dark.
././././././././
"Bring me another cloth," barked Kamala. She sat in a hard wooden chair, hands hovering over the prone forms of both the Avatar and his son. Tenzin was sweating and shivering excessively, and his father was not far behind. Though the temperature in the kiln room was easily higher than that of the deserts, both men were convulsing under their many blankets and heated bricks.
"I don't know what's wrong with them," said Kamala. "It's as if their sickness is in a place I can't reach… It's like nothing I've ever seen before!" Toph appeared at Kamala's elbow, face sick with anger and worry.
"Can you help them or not?" she asked exasperatedly, not meaning to be rude, but too wound up to be polite. Kamala's mouth tightened and she snapped her fingers.
"They only way we can get them back is to nurse them through this fever. They're going to have to sweat it out, as with any other. Get General Iroh in here. We need the spiciest tea he has, and someone to keep these bricks warm. Get me more water and cloths. It's going to be a very long night." Toph scurried off to get Iroh, while Kamala crooked a finger at one of her students.
"Pick up a rag, dip it in water, and rub his arms and chest down in circles," she said, jutting her chin at Tenzin. "Talk to him, if you can. Just talking sometimes will bring them back."
././././././././
A terrible red light pierced her eyelids, followed by a flash of light so blinding, she couldn't help but wish for the dark she had so readily succumbed to before.
Tenzin? She called silently.
Aang? For moments, there was no reply. Then, softly, weakly:
Dad is already back with Aunt Toph and Grandfather Iroh. I can't find my way. Katara's heart ached at the loneliness she heard in her son's voice.
Why can't you find your way?
I think it's because I'm so attached to you. I've never known what this is like. Katara saw an image of her son, a faint outline of a serious little boy with grey eyes and yellow robes, reaching for her.
Oh Tenzin…
She reached for him, but he turned those luminous orbs toward her.
They're waiting for me.
And then Katara understood. She had to let him go all of those years ago; if she ever wanted to see him again, she had to let him go now.
I'll see you soon, Tenzin. The boy smiled, looking exactly like Aang had as a child.
You'll be surprised, he said, and walked away.
The white faded away from her vision.
././././././././
"He's back, his breathing is stronger. Someone bring me broth, he's back!" Kamala shouted her orders and they were readily met, a bowl of broth appearing by her arm with a long-handled spoon.
"Tenzin?" she said gently, and saw that his eyes moved rapidly under closed eyelids. "Tenzin, come back to me darling. Your father is here, and he misses you. Come on, Tenzin…" The boy shivered and moved his mouth, forming undecipherable words. Aang, too weak to sit up, spoke gently from the other side of the sickroom.
"Tenzin, please come back… there is so much left to teach you, Tenzin." The boy's eyelids fluttered rapidly, and suddenly he grasped Kamala's arms harshly, eyes flying open.
"Tenzin?" she asked. "Tenzin, are you with me?" The boy turned his eyes to Kamala, grey orbs blazing from the residual illness.
"My mother, Fire Lord Zuko and Lady Ursa are trapped in the South Pole, in a village called Tanarak. They are in the topmost cave. Lady Ursa and Zuko are awake, but injured. My mother…" he trailed off, and then squeezed his eyes shut.
"She is weak, and she needs to be saved. Please, save her." He dropped back into the bed; Kamala panicked, putting a wrist to his forehead, but quickly controlled herself.
"His fever has broken," she said, her voice becoming shrill. "Someone save my step-daughter." Before she could move away from Tenzin, a tiny hand pulled her back down. He heaved himself up until he could whisper directly in her ear.
"Are you a healer?" he asked quietly, weakly, and Kamala squeezed his hand.
"Yes," she answered, perplexed. Tenzin drew even closer.
"I don't know how I know this, but I saw it, when we were connected – and I think my father saw it too – my mom is going to lose her baby if you don't find her soon."
Kamala gripped his tiny wrist hard.
"How…?"
"She doesn't know it yet. Save her, healer lady."