Chapter Ten:
He took a measured breath, eyes narrowed as he pulled back into the shadows gathered in the tiny alley between the buildings. The walls were so close he could touch them both with his hands at the same time. His breath was hot on the black half-mask obscuring his face as he glanced out at the street.
The moon was just coming up, stretching long black shadows like reaching fingers across the empty square. There was one lone guard pacing across the bricks, close enough to engage.
His hand fingered the sword at his belt, but he didn't pull it. Instead, he listened intently, watching the pacing soldier, waiting...
A loud bong! cut the still night, chiming the time at the Fire Sage sanctuary up in the hills a few miles away. The sound of the bells could be heard for miles in every direction, eerie and echoing. He counted the chimes, waiting with baited breath.
Eight...nine...ten...eleven...
At the twelfth chime a massive explosion ripped the night apart, sending a gigantic fireball skyward, and rocking the ground beneath his feet. It lit up the night around him, the glass shaking in the windows above him so hard they cracked, raining glittering shards into the alley. The soldier in the square shouted something, and he heard more screams coming from the buildings around him.
Sokka didn't stop to watch the chaos.
He spun on his heel, running down the alley at a sprint, his legs pumping, arms churning, his eyes on the building at the end of the alley, which was bathed in moonlight and flickering red light from the explosion.
At the end of the alley he twisted, launching himself at the wall. He hit it halfway up and rebounded on the opposite wall with a grunt. The momentum launched him back at the other wall again and he hit it with his foot, and then twisted forward, toward the mouth of the alley.
His hands caught on a metal bar that spanned the tiny alley, anchored between the two buildings near the roof line. His body arced forward, but he pumped his legs back like a gymnast.
His hands tightened on the rusted metal bar as he swung back into the alley, and then forward with a great heave and a grunt.
He let go of the bar and shot forward, tumbling through the air so fast it made his head spin. He landed on the roof of the building across the narrow street with a crack. He rolled with the momentum and came up on his feet, nearly slipped on the tiles.
He dug in instead, and launched himself across the roof, ignoring the red light of the fire in the distance, and the shouts from down in the street. At the end of the roof, he skidded to a stop, one hand stopping him as he grasped the eave. The street opened up below him; he could see soldiers running from the building beneath him, toward the source of the explosion.
He waited, peering down at them intently, until a second explosion—less than 30 seconds after the first had split the night apart—boomed through the night.
As the second fireball rose in the air before him, he grasped the edge of the roof in both hands and jumped down, swinging himself forward again. He brought his feet together and shoved them through the cracked window set just below the eaves.
Another swinging motion and he heaved his body through the window and into the building. He landed in a crouch on the carpeted floor of what appeared to be a darkened office. No surprise. This was the headquarters of a garrison of the Fire Nation Army. It had taken them a few days of skulking in the shadows to determine which building held the C.O.'s office.
Standing, Sokka crept to the door, slowing his breathing as he put his ear to the thin wood. He could hear distant shouting, but the explosions had done their job. It appeared that everyone had abandoned the building.
Sokka cracked the door open, peering into the hallway, but it was empty. He heard the third—and last—explosion right on time.
Trying not to think of Azula out there alone, surrounded by an entire garrison of soldiers, he concentrated on the task at hand. The faster he was out of here, the better. He crept into the deserted hallway, eying the names on the doors.
Mostly storage, a few offices.
He took the stairs with caution, keeping to the wall, one hand on his sword. The second floor was as deserted as the third. He finally found what he was looking for at the end of the hallway. The C.O.'s office. Pulse racing, he tried the door, but it was locked.
Drawing back, Sokka lifted his foot and kicked the door in with one swift movement. The wood shattered, the door sagging on its hinges. He pushed it aside, and ran into the darkened room. As he did, he heard loud voices below him, shouted commands, lots of footsteps.
"Shit," he ground out, going for the desk and the stack of papers there. He rifled through it, sweat running down his back. He could hear more shouts and footsteps on the stairs now. It wouldn't be long before he had company.
The stack of papers were requisition forms for things like food, armor and new boots. He threw the papers down and reached for the drawers on the desk. The first two drawers were full of office supplies; quills, scrolls, wax, scissors... Gritting his teeth, he closed the second drawer and reached for the third.
Only to find that it was locked.
He didn't bother to look around for the key. Instead he drew his sword and jammed the tip into the small crack above the lock. He pushed his weight into the pommel, leveraging the drawer open with a creak of wood.
The wood splintered with a loud crack. Sokka yanked the drawer open and plunged his hand inside, pulling out a scroll. It had the royal seal on it, unbroken.
"Gotcha," Sokka breathed, even as the sound of footsteps and an authoritative voice barked an order from the hallway.
"Take a group of soldiers down to the river, that's the only way they could have escaped! I want to know who blew up those tanks and if-" The man paused and then cursed. Sokka heard the ring of steel, and the illumination of fire that lit up the hallway through the crack in the sagging door.
Sokka shoved the scroll into his vest, cursing inwardly, even as the commanding officer kicked his broken office door in like an avenging spirit.
The man was middle-aged, but muscled like a moose-lion, with a crooked, squashed nose that looked like it had been broken more than once. He had a few teeth missing too, as he sneered at Sokka from the doorway, a handful of flames under lighting his brutish features in red.
Sokka sneered right back at him and waved his sword.
"HOW THE HELL DID YOU-" the officer started, but Sokka slammed his sword backward into the window behind him. The glass shattered as Sokka launched himself backward, breaking the rest of the glass. The world rushed by him as he twisted in mid-air, landing in a rolling ball on the street. He tumbled, banging, scraping and bruising himself as the breath was knocked out of him.
His sword clattered a few steps away as he came to a stop in an ungainly sprawl, only to feel a fireball explode beside him with a hot crack. He flinched, rolling away, glancing up at the officer in the window of his office, tossing another volley of fire at him.
He rolled again, grabbing his lost sword as the fire exploded so close the heat of the flames licked at his tattooed arm. Pain bit at him, hot and sharp.
He lurched to his bloodied knees, tossing his long hair out of his eyes as the officer lined up another shot.
Sokka flinched, his body tensing, knowing in a split second that there was no way to avoid the third fireball, that it would hit him head on.
A lithe figure came out of the darkness, spinning in front of him and catching the fire. With another spin, she shot the fireball back at the building with deadly accuracy. The flames exploded against the broken window, knocking the officer back with a cry as he lifted his arms to block the flames.
"Come on!" Azula snarled from beneath her mask, taking off in the opposite way she'd come. He realized why in an instant; there were five soldiers tearing their way, weapons drawn and fire sizzling above outstretched hands. Several of them were singed, either from the explosions at the docks or from Azula, he wasn't sure.
Sokka ran after Azula, tearing around the building and into the same narrow alley where he'd waited for her signal. The gas tanks she had blown up were still sending columns of fire into the sky. Azula turned out of the alley, and, unprotected by the buildings, the heat of the flames slapped them in the face.
The river docks had caught fire when the natural gas tanks had blown one by one. Debris littered the dock: crates, supplies, engine parts...but no bodies. There were Firebenders fighting the flames, but they weren't winning. The gas tanks were fed from a natural, and abundant reservoir below. They would be on fire for days. Possibly weeks.
No one noticed them as they ran in the opposite direction of the flaming tanks., heading for the buildings on the edge of town. Azula reached them first, hustling into the shadowed lee of the building. Sokka was two steps behind her, and she grabbed his arm, whipping him around so hard that his shoulder cracked against the shingled wall.
She ignored his grunt of pain, peering out at the hellfire. The soldiers that had been chasing them came out of the alley and looked around. Their leader gestured left and right, splitting the group.
"Things are getting a little hot," Sokka breathed as Azula turned back and nodded.
"You just had to get caught,"
"I noticed you had a pack of soldiers on your ass too."
"Because I came back for you, against my better judgment," she sniped at him.
"We can fight about it later. We need to get to the boats," he said, peering around her and then back down the scrubby riverbank.
Though the garrison was large, full of sprawling barracks, storage buildings, training centers and offices, the actual village was nothing more than a cluster of wooden buildings huddled beside the river, the businesses mostly serving the army garrison. There weren't many houses as most of the merchants lived above their shops. Which meant there weren't a lot of places to hide.
"Keep an eye out," Azula said, creeping along the wall. She peered down the narrow side-yard of the building at their back and into the main street as Sokka watched the activity at the docks. "Clear."
They crept from one house to the other until they reached the edge of the village, which ended abruptly at a twist in the river. There was a much smaller dock there, used by the local fishermen. There was a series of small boats tied up there, bobbing in the water.
Three soldiers were guarding the dock with their hands full of flames.
"We can take them," Azula breathed beside him, but he shook his head.
"I've got a better idea," Sokka said, sheathing his sword as he peered at the soldiers. He didn't recognize them as the ones who had chased them. He ripped his mask off. "Follow me. Try to look scared and helpless."
Azula made a disgusted noise, but pulled off her mask too, and followed him out of the shadows as he pelted around the building.
"HELP! HELP!" Sokka said, looking around frantically. He pretended to spot the soldiers, who had started at the sight of him. They came at the two of them, swords drawn.
"HOLD IT RIGHT THERE!"
"Oh! Soldiers! Thank the Fire Lord! Someone's broken into my store! My poor wife is terrified! I think he's hiding out in one of the bedrooms! HURRY BEFORE THEY BURN THE PLACE DOWN!"
He jabbed a finger back at the building they'd been hunkered behind, which proved to be a leather-working shop.
"SIR, WE-"
"PLEASE! MY CHILDREN ARE UP THERE! HELP US!" Azula shrieked beside him, making Sokka half-turn toward her in surprise. She looked genuinely distressed and horrified as she clutched her hands to her face, tears in her eyes.
"Ma'am-"
"HURRY!"
The lead soldier glanced between them and then nodded firmly. "You, take the back, I'll take the front. You, go get help!"
One of the soldiers peeled off from the group and ran down the center of town, toward the towering inferno at the docks. The whole night sky was lit up with the fire. Sokka hoped it didn't spread to the rest of the town, but at least it seemed like everyone had been roused from their beds. Most of the townspeople were grouped together a few hundred feet from the docks, watching the soldiers battle the blaze. He hoped that the owners of the leather shop were among them, or they were about to get a couple of helpful intruders.
Sokka watched the soldiers approach the house from the front and back. They entered at the same time, swords drawn, fire in their hands.
Sokka didn't' wait to see what would happen. He was off and running toward the docks, Azula one step behind him.
They jumped down into one of the boats. He immediately slipped the mooring line off of the post and pushed the boat out into the river, wishing for a moment that he was a Waterbender like Katara. But the current here was fast, and they were soon whisking around the sharp bend in the river, Sokka pulling the oars with little effort, though his arm was still shaking with pain.
The village fell behind them faster than thought, though the light from the fire lit the night sky with a red haze that nearly blotted out the crescent moon hanging low on the horizon.
They didn't speak until they were a mile down the river, Sokka's oars dipping and falling through the rushing water.
"Did you get it?"
"I think so," he grunted. "Why didn't you stick to the plan?"
Azula shrugged, glancing along the shrub-lined riverbank, her faced bathed in moonlight. "Somehow, I knew you'd need my help and if you got caught there went the whole mission."
"Only part of the mission," he pointed out. "You blew the tanks."
"Yes, I pulled off my end spectacularly, didn't I?" Azula drawled, leaning back in the boat on both elbows. She shook back her hair and tipped her face to the red-drenched moonlight. She looked like a goddess, lounging there.
"Well, aren't you proud of yourself," he groused, though for some reason he was fighting a grin. Some of the adrenaline was wearing off and he starting to feel giddy. They had done it. They'd actually pulled it off. Together.
It had been a tense two weeks, but somehow they had pulled it off despite the clash of their personalities. After the fight in the inn, Sokka had been trying desperately not to spook her again. When she did something odd, or wasn't quite there with him, he let it go. Eventually he'd figure how to get through to her.
Until then he was trying his damnedest to be understanding. She didn't make it easy.
"I should be, you on the other hand..." she trailed off as his good mood soured.
"The C.O. came back faster than I anticipated. Nothing I could do about it."
"He didn't see your face, though."
"No. And hopefully those soldiers on the dock didn't get a good look either," Sokka grunted, and then spotted the take out point. He rowed toward the lightning-struck tree, its skeletal branches thrusting at the sky. He rowed until the boat bumped against the rocky shore, then tossed down the oars and climbed out.
Azula followed and together they hauled the little dingy out of the water, up onto the rocks and then behind a thick clump of elderberry bushes. They put dead branches and leaves all over the top of the weathered hull and then glanced at one another.
Sokka grinned at her. "I think we just officially became terrorists."
"And a traitor to the crown, in my case."
"A busy night all around then," he said and pulled the scroll from his vest. "I just hope it's worth it."
It was a long walk across forested terrain to the safe house they had been hiding in for the past two weeks while they'd planned their explosive little heist. The scroll that Rian had given them had had directions to the house—a shack, really—and instructions. Neither one of them knew what was on the scroll they'd been instructed to find, but they had been instructed not to open it under any circumstances.
Curiosity roared in Azula's chest as she tucked the scroll into the pouch at her waist, walking a few steps behind Sokka as they picked a circuitous path through the forest. She wanted to open it, but she knew that the Smoke Demons were testing them. They wanted to see if the two of them would follow every order given to them, no matter what.
She could speculate about what was on the scroll though. She knew quite a lot about the Fire Nation Army. The information on that scroll was highly classified, and probably contained defense strategies that only the top men in the army were privy to.
Whatever it was, the Smoke Demons wanted it. She could see why. That kind of top secret information would definitely come in handy if one wanted to attack the Fire Nation. Which the Smoke Demons did.
Sokka glanced back at her as he walked, but she couldn't see his face for the hanging shadows of the trees. Though they were being as quiet as possible, the forest was littered with crunchy yellow leaves. Autumn had arrived, with its flame-like foliage. It didn't get as cold here as in the Earth Kingdom, but she knew that the nights were about to get bitterly cold. It would even snow on the northern-most islands soon.
He looked back at her again a few moments later, and she let out a huff of annoyance. "What?"
"Nothing," he said hastily, which made her halt in her steps.
"You thought I was going to break down back there, didn't you?" she said softly. Sokka stopped and turned to face her.
"I thought you might," he admitted heavily.
"Well, I didn't," she said sharply. "The tanks went up without a hitch. Just like they ordered."
"I know."
"So stop staring at me like I'm some fragile little flower about to wilt," she snapped at him, starting forward. "I'm fine and no one asked for your opinion otherwise."
"You had another nightmare last night."
She whirled on him. "We're not talking about this."
He didn't say anything, just followed in her wake like a silent sentinel. She could feel his eyes on her, watching her as warily as he had the past two weeks, ever since he had witnessed her nightmare in the inn. He hadn't confronted her about them again. He hadn't said much of anything.
He just watched her, mostly while he thought she wouldn't notice. She didn't know what was going through his head, but his attentive eyes were far too sharp for her liking. Though her arm had started to heal, she had had to hide the cuts and the stitches from him and that had not been easy in the tiny confines of their safe house.
She was ashamed of the little rows of cuts. She didn't want him to see them. Didn't want to give him another reason to think that she was weak.
At least the voices in her head had stayed silent. Mostly. And her visions had been easily ignored. If he'd noticed her reacting to them, he hadn't said anything.
They came to the safe house an hour before dawn. The place was a ramshackle wooden dwelling, covered in clapboard shingles. The sagging roof was missing half of its tiles, and there was an outhouse near the trees that smelled as badly as it looked. There was a well near the front door, however, and the water was clear and cold.
Both she and Sokka were parched. They hadn't brought any water or food with them on their mission tonight. Wordlessly, Sokka pumped water into the bucket and offered it to her first. She ignored his chivalry and drank as much of the ice-cold water as she could stand, then shoved the bucket at him.
He drank his fill too, and then pumped more water into it as she turned and entered the shack.
The inside was as sad as the outside. There were two rooms, a ragged tarp stretched across the doorway as a makeshift door. The first room had a small, blackened hearth made out of gray river rocks and a single window, the glass miraculously unbroken but so grimed over it was nearly impossible to see out of.
Sokka's bedroll and pack was laid out on the dirt floor of the hearth room. She had claimed the second room, though it wasn't much better. She had slept in worse before, but she had been careful not to tell Sokka that.
Their plans lay scattered on the floor and tacked to the wooden walls. A map of the town, the garrison, the docks, and the path back to the shack were prominently displayed. It had taken them days of reconnaissance to map it all out, planning every detail of their escape.
While it hadn't gone completely according to plan, somehow, it had worked.
"We need to burn all of this and then pack. We need to be in Gei before noon to meet our next contact," Sokka said behind her, gesturing to their plans on the walls. She started, and turned to face him. He stood in the doorway, shirtless, water glistening on his muscular chest and slicking back his hair.
She hitched in a breath and stepped away from him.
"I know that," she snapped.
"Then get to it, Firebender," he said, passing so close to her that she could see the water on his lips, even in the darkness. He didn't touch her though. He was always careful not to touch her. A hot flush rose up her face as he bent over his pack and pulled something out of it. Ignoring him, she started pulling the maps and plans off of the walls.
She shoved it all into the little fireplace and lit it on fire. The room glowed with blue light from her flames as she stood back and watched all of their careful planning burn to a crisp.
Sokka made a sound behind her, a little hiss of pain that made her turn toward him. He was probing a raw, red burn on his arm.
"You're hurt."
"Nothing I can't handle," he grunted, pulling supplies out of his pack. He awkwardly tried to wrap a bandage around it with his left hand, but fumbled. She rolled her eyes and sank down onto his bedroll beside him. She snatched the bandage out of his hand.
"You're as useless as tits on a lion-turtle," she groused as she smacked his hand away too.
A laugh bubbled up out of him and he looked as surprised by it as she was as their gazes clashed in the firelight.
"I think some of my peasant charm is wearing off on you, Princess," he mused as she grabbed ointment and dabbed at the burn.
"I did spend three years in the Earth Kingdom. They're a very earthy people," she pointed out.
"I see what you did there."
She rolled her eyes again. "I learned a lot of things."
"Like healing?" he said, wincing as she cleaned the wound as best she could. She glanced at her arm, but her sleeve was still covering her bandages, and the old scars cross-hatching her pale flesh.
"I'm no healer, but learning how to stitch myself up was necessary," she said softly and peered at the burn. "This may scar, but it's not as bad as it looks. Or probably feels. You need to keep it clean."
Sokka nodded, watching as she rubbed the ointment all over the wound, then bandaged it with an expert hand. When she was finished, she looked up at him. Their eyes met for a long moment.
"Why did you need to stitch yourself up?" he finally asked.
She swallowed and stood up. "We need to leave before they pick up our trail. It'll take us all morning to get to Gei."
She felt his eyes on her as she ducked into the other room. She wished, and not for the first time, that the shack was bigger, that she could get more distance between herself and Sokka. She didn't know what to make him most of the time.
She almost wanted to start a fight with him again, because at least when he was angry she understood him. When he looked at her like that, and spoke in that soft voice, it upended her completely.
It put her off her guard, and she had learned a long time ago, in the worst way possible, that letting her guard down only lead to pain and suffering.
She wouldn't make that mistake again. Not with him. Not with anyone.