Chapter 11: Ba Sing Sei – Almost
posted October 24, 2009
The mudflats stretched far into the bay, flavoring the breeze with a briny tang both like and unlike Skaguak at low tide. Seagulls wheeled over the waterfront, their shrill cries speaking of refuse to be fought over.
Katara sighed from the window of her hotel room and once again reached to finger her mother's necklace, to feel that faint connection to home. Once again her fingers touched bare skin and the reminder that home lay far away, tainted by the pain of uncertainty and a distant pulse.
A note lay discarded on the room's dresser; the hotel's elegant concierge had read it aloud for her that first night in Ba Jin Hu: it seemed that one Ziyang Zhao had been delayed in Sheng Ziyou and would not arrive until the end of the week. Katara sighed, boredom joining her homesickness. In Skaguak, she would have passed the time in the woods, or visiting friends and neighbors, or helping Toph with the numerous chores that always seemed to pile up in Bei Fong Outfitting's back rooms. On her own in Ba Jin Hu, though, there wasn't enough to do to keep her mind off of –
Time for another walk, she decided, and bent to slip her shoes on.
The last time, she'd walked to the old exhibition grounds, now a fledgling university, and before that taken a streetcar to a nearby lake. Ba Jin Hu was huge compared to Skaguak but nothing like the great eastern cities, an old man on the streetcar had explained.
"Ba Jin Hu," he'd said in a friendly, creaking voice. "It means 'Ba Sing Sei – Almost.'" He laughed. "The first settlers named it that. Big hopes." Katara had laughed with him, even as she wondered what this land had been called before those first settlers gave it a name.
She smoothed her skirt as she stepped out of her hotel room, locked the door behind her. The waterfront this time, I think. She smiled at the elevator operator and the concierge and the doorman and finally stepped onto the cobbled street.
Ba Jin Hu had been built on seven hills – though none of the locals could agree on which of the many hills counted as those seven – that slanted into a deep bay. Katara remembered a time when the bay had been wider and shallower, the hills steeper and thickly forested, the streets muddy and scarred, but now the sidewalks were broad and busy and the mill long closed. She passed bakeries and apothecaries, dress shops and booksellers, and paused briefly beside a newsstand.
The day's press displayed a large picture of a man who oddly resembled Zuko beneath large bold characters. Katara studied it briefly, loneliness seeping into her detachment, before continuing down the sidewalk.
Sleep came to Katara only after long hours watching the curtains move in the summer breeze. The faint connection, that distant heartbeat and memory of golden eyes, lay quiet, so much so that she barely felt it except at night when Ba Jin Hu slept around her. In that stillness it became intolerable, an uncomfortable, teasing pulse that joined the faint pull of the waxing moon.
Katara turned away from the window again, her eyes adjusting slowly to the room's darkness. Her thoughts wandered again to Zuko, if he hated her, if he would be there when she returned to Skaguak or if on her journey south she would pass a steamer carrying him and never know when he left.
I'm sorry, she thought, but the connection stayed quiet.
The concierge called to her the next morning as she entered the lobby. "A telegram arrived for you earlier, Madam Katara," he said, holding out a slip of paper.
"Oh. Um." She hesitated, embarrassed in a way she'd never felt in Skaguak, in the Southern Territories. "Can you read it aloud, please?"
"Of course, madam," he said without changing expression, and the embarrassment ebbed.
"Ms. Katara,
"My train will arrive in Ba Jin Hu at 1300.
"Will you meet me in the Cadillac Hotel's dining room at 1600?
"Ziyang Zhao"
"Thank you," she said with a grateful nod, and the concierge dipped his head in return before turning back to his desk.
She rode the streetcar to another lake, a smaller one this time, nestled between the downtown waterfront and sloping hills. The hills looked denuded, houses growing densely in place of trees. It's changed, she thought.
The connection surged gently, then quieted as she rode the streetcar back to her hotel, remembering her conversation with Zuko about streetcars and trains. I hope Skaguak never needs one.
"Ms. Katara?"
Katara looked away from the window, its view of the waterfront beyond the narrow canyons formed by buildings. A man stood before her table, broad and confident, his smile almost warm but instead arrogant on sharp features.
She rose, extended her hand. "That's me. You must be Ziyang Zhao."
"Indeed." He took her hand, bowed low over it and straightened but didn't release it. His palm was smooth, almost soft, but his fingers were strong. "A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Katara."
She gently took her hand back and folded it carefully behind her, out of his reach. "Just Katara is fine."
"Very well. May I sit down?"
She inclined her head and reclaimed her own chair before he could pull it out for her. The waiter arrived before he could speak again and Katara absently ordered a second pot of tea.
"A cup for myself as well, and do you care for sweet cakes, my dear?" Zhao asked, and Katara forced herself to nod gracefully rather than shrug. The endearment felt false from his lips and she tried to dampen her senses, ignore the feelings that spread from him like oil dripped into the water.
"Now, Ms. Katara." Zhao settled back into his chair, moving easily despite his bulky frame. "I must thank you for agreeing to meet me here in Ba Jin Hu. I have been tracking this particular man for quite some time and am eager to move quickly as soon as we reach Skaguak."
"What kind of man is e?" Katara asked, eager to keep their attention on business.
"A wanted man, one who has eluded me for many years now." Something intent passed over Zhao's face, and Katara kept her expression neutral. "My superiors finally gave me clearance to pursue him full time until he is… apprehended."
"Do you know that he's in Skaguak? Your first letter just said that you had tracked him here to Ba Jin Hu." Keep it professional, she reminded herself. It's just another job.
"I have reason to believe he is in the wilderness surrounding Skaguak. He left a clear trail to Sheng Ziyou, and then seemed to head south."
The waiter arrived then with a large pot of tea and a cup and a plate of delicate cakes glazed with honey. Zhao poured tea for them both, paused to inhale the steam and sip delicately before he spoke again.
"It's always refreshing to find good tea in rustic little frontier outposts like this," he said conversationally. "Now. My associates will need to be included in the strategy we develop for once we reach Skaguak. I took the liberty of booking you passage with us aboard the Gong Zhu Hai, which conveniently departs tomorrow." He sipped his tea and smiled, the expression more predatory than pleasant. "There will be ample time on our journey south to develop this strategy. In the meantime, have you any general questions?"
Katara nodded. "Yes. What is this man wanted for? And what's his name?"
"I'm afraid I can't answer that," Zhao said smoothly, and sipped his tea again. "Confidentiality laws, you know – the Commonwealth seems eager to interfere in as many affairs as possible."
Katara hid her annoyance with a nod and a drink of tea, then set the cup down. "You signed your letter 'Huang Gong Hui,'" she said carefully. "What did that mean?"
"The name of my organization, Ms. Katara," he replied. "We specialize in finding people, and bringing them to where they should be, something I'm sure you understand." Zhao's faint smirk didn't match the eagerness roiling from him as he placed his empty cup on the table before him. "If I may excuse myself, Ms. Katara. I will see you tomorrow before we embark on the Gong Zhu Hai." He bowed politely as he stood, then left the dining room.
Watch this man – and his 'associates', she reminded herself, and quietly drank the rest of her tea. The sweet cakes remained untouched on the table before her.
Katara returned to her room late that night, after a long walk to clear her head of Ziyang Zhao and his slippery insinuations. She savored the night breeze blowing through the window even as clouds lay heavy on the sky, remembered the fresh taste of wind from Skaguak's harbor sweeping across the river plain. The connection pulsed quietly as she leaned on the windowsill, another reminder of what lay waiting far to the south, and she sighed.
She would have liked it to be clear or liked it to rain, but instead the clouds reflected the city's lights back to its streets.
The Gong Zhu Hai departed the next afternoon, a luxurious modern steamer with two dining rooms for its passengers. Sokka will be pleased, Katara thought as she stood on the bow, and hoped she would be able to tell him about it soon.
Ba Jin Hu's hills slipped away as the vessel steamed from the bay, beginning the passage up the long inland sea. Katara sighed, then felt the connection pulse suddenly, then still. I wonder what Zuko's doing, she thought before she could suppress it, and further wondered what that ripple of sensation meant, if he was thinking of her, or just excited, or if it meant nothing, a random flare of emotion. She held the railing tightly, the metal cold under her hands. I just wish I knew.
The first-class cabins were luxurious, decorated in the latest sleek style and with a real – if narrow – bathtub. Discontent consumed Katara, however, and she spent most of her waking hours – those not wasted strategizing with Ziyang Zhao and his "associates" – on the stern deck, trying to soothe the restlessness as they steamed smoothly towards Skaguak. The top deck and its doubtlessly sweeping views were closed to passengers, but the broad planked fantail made an excellent place to spend anxious hours underway.
Katara raised her hand again, idly pushing and pulling the churning wake into patterns, feeling the way the Gong Zhu Hai's propellers disrupted the water, cut it into shreds that flowed instantly back into each other. Her thoughts moved like that water, crashing into each other in unending disruption.
The memories of her burning village, the faceless hunters who swarmed from the forest, joined images of concerned eyes and subtle smiles, the warmth of Zuko's skin and his mind against hers. He wasn't there, Katara reminded herself, but the Shadow-Catchers' crest, the stylized flame burned into the skin at the base of his neck, belied the meaning behind those words. Vampire! he shouted in her memory, and she shivered, closed her eyes against rage and denial.
In her dreams, though, she felt his blood pulse beneath his skin, smelled it mingled with the smell of his sweat and his soap; that wildness in her own blood rose up and she could almost taste him beneath her before waking alone and tangled in her sheets. The change rippled beneath Katara's skin, catching her between desire and disgust and horror at what she had almost done, both in the dream and before him, weeks ago. The bond pulsed, stronger with every day even as she tried to ignore it, but it called to her and she couldn't break free.
Katara tried to avoid Ziyang Zhao outside of the increasingly useless "strategy" sessions – this man they looked for was probably southeast of Skaguak, probably hiding in the woods beyond the old Feng Seng Yuan, and that was all she needed to find him – but he was inescapable at meals taken in the formal dining room, meals she was expected to attend as a lady of a First-Class cabin.
Beside Zhao's crisp shirt and jacket, Katara felt underdressed in her good skirt and the embroidered tunic Toph had commissioned from Auntie Fu Ling's shop. She tried not to squirm as Zhao continued his meaninglessly elegant conversation with the Gong Zhu Hai's first officer. Tonight the topic seemed to be eastern politics, incomprehensibly far away from the forested western coast, and Katara thought of what the land, what her life had looked like before the Commonwealth and its politics had touched them both.
"Isn't that right, my dear?" Zhao's smooth voice broke into her contemplation, and Katara looked up from her half-finished plate.
"Hmmm?" She blinked and forced an expression between vapid and concerned to her face. "I'm sorry, what was that?"
"Never you mind, Katara." Zhao's smile was predatory behind the veil of affection as condescension rolled out from him like waves from the Gong Zhu Hai's hull.
She'd heard the other passengers' whispers, resented their assumptions even as she hardly cared herself. The implications that she slept beside Zhao despite having her own cabin, despite having never entered his own, merely added to her determination to finish this assignment as quickly as possible, to find this "dangerous man," whoever he was, so that Ziyang Zhou would return north.
Whales joined the Gong Zhu Hai for a brief time the next morning, their tall dorsals cutting through the deep green sea as Katara watched. She heard their high calls to each other, felt their almost-awareness of the vessel and her aboard it, and she suddenly yearned to throw herself overboard, let the change overtake her, swim in the sea with her cousins and forget her life. She stood instead on the stern deck, the planks firm beneath her feet even as the steamer rolled gently over the water, and tried to ignore how the connection strengthened with each day, a warm pulse that distracted and cast new doubts into her conflicted thoughts.
Who are you? Katara wondered at that distant ripple of emotions, colored the same warm gold as Zuko's eyes. The stylized flame and his shout still echoed in her mind, but she also remembered his hesitant acceptance, the fragile connection they'd found before that disastrous night, the days when they had shared and listened and found some measure of peace in the others' dreams.
Peace you almost destroyed, she reminded herself as the wildness surged within her, and she pushed it away along with the thoughts of how close she'd come to letting her nature take that peace – that choice – from him.
The Gong Zhu Hai stopped at a handful of ports along the journey, small towns sheltered in rocky harbors, but Katara viewed each from the steamer with disinterest until they reached the cannery town of Kanikek. She scanned the docks hopefully, then smiled with sudden delight; the Southern Wind lay moored at the receiving dock, the long conveyor laden with fish from its hold.
She picked her way down the dock after the Gong Zhu Hai was tied up and passengers allowed to disembark; she'd nearly skipped down the gangplank as the purser explained that all passengers to Skaguak must be back aboard by ten the next morning.
Sokka stepped onto the deck as Katara approached the Southern Wind; she waved and called out and reached all at once and he looked up, a broad smile already on his face as he set a crate on the dock.
"Sokka!" she called again, and he hopped lightly up to sweep her into a hug. "I'm so glad you're here!"
She felt him smile as he released her. "The Gong Zhu Hai? I hear they have two dining rooms."
Katara laughed and the journey's boredom and depression receded under her brother's affection. "I'll give it all up for a Southern Wind dinner tonight."
Sokka grinned. "I think we can manage that." He gestured at the engine room, at the crates waiting on deck. "Help me clean up?"
"Just this once," she responded with a grin.
They sat together in the Southern Wind's tiny mess that evening, the rest of the crew long since ashore. "I will admit," Katara began around her mouthful, "That you can cook fish better than anyone I know."
Sokka preened between his own bites, so clearly pleased with himself that Katara's sisterly pride had to squash him. "Even better than Toph."
Sokka stuck his tongue out at her. "That was low."
Katara just grinned, and the meal passed pleasantly.
"So," Sokka finally said as he pulled a squat brown bottle from behind a bag of dried beans. He set two mismatched glasses on the counter and poured for them both. "How are you, Katara? Really?"
Katara sighed as she accepted her glass. "I'm okay," she said softly and raised her glass. Sokka looked at her skeptically as he took his own glass, and she sighed. "I guess." She sipped. "Mostly."
"Katara."
She looked up at his firm tone, and sighed again and broke the gaze. "I don't know, Sokka. Okay? I don't know. I told you, I almost… bit him, before I knew what I was doing, and… gods." She set her glass down and raked her fingers across her scalp, pulling her hair back from her face. "I don't know what I almost did, and it scares me." She sniffed briefly, usually unashamed to cry in her brother's presence, but this felt different somehow. "I feel like I don't know what I am, and… being around him just… brought that out and I almost –"
Sokka interrupted her. "Katara. You are what you are. Just like I am what I am. And it's Zuko's choice to stick around or not, knowing that." She looked up to find him watching her with concern on his face, and part of her warmed at that easy understanding they shared – had always shared – but the rest of her was too wound up to be soothed.
"He's a Shadow Catcher, Sokka – you know what they did, you were there, we were both there; they killed Mom, they –"
"Katara." Sokka's voice was firm and steady. "He wasn't there." He paused to watch her, watch that she understood. "He's a regular human. He wasn't even born then. He wasn't there, and it wasn't him."
"But –"
"No." Sokka reached over the table to grip her arm, calloused fingers rough through her sleeve. "It's okay to not blame him." They stared at each other for a long moment and Katara looked away first, feeling his sincerity.
"Okay." She took a deep breath, another, and then a deep drink, and they sat in silence for a few moments.
"I spent some time with him, you know, after he came back to town." Katara looked up and Sokka shrugged. "I needed a roustabout." He sipped his own drink. "I think he's an okay guy."
Katara stared at him, incredulous this time. "Sokka…" He looked up as she continued. "The last guy who showed interest in me – that you knew of, I might add – finally left Skaguak after the cannery overflow pipe kept getting mysteriously coupled to his engine room exhaust port."
Sokka blinked, the picture of innocence even as laughter rippled beneath the expression. "Anyone could have done that.
"Sokka! You have said it yourself! There is only one 3-5/8 wrench in Skaguak! The one that you had special-ordered from Ba Jin Hu and you keep in your bedroom and charge a fee for borrowing!"
"That doesn't prove anything."
"Ufffff." Katara leaned forward, let her head drop onto the table to hide her sudden grin, and Sokka snorted.
"Fine. He wasn't good enough for you."
Katara huffed in response and raised her head. "And Zuko is?"
Sokka shrugged. "Like I said, I think he's an okay guy."
Katara stared at him, then threw up her arms in disgust. "We are not having this discussion!"
Sokka remained silent for a moment, but she felt his laughter threaten to bubble up even as he finally spoke. "We just did."
She glared at him for a moment, then they broke into laughter together. Her own chuckles might have been tinged with desperation, but it still felt good to laugh, and she slid around the bench to lean against him as they subsided. "I missed you," she said softly, and he draped an arm around her shoulder.
"I missed you, too." He squeezed her gently. "I think it's going to be okay."
She spent that night on the Southern Wind in the narrow bunk above Sokka's, lulled by his faint snores and the rolling waves and the smell of fish, by memories of her father and a simpler time. The connection pulsed gently, almost comforting, and she slept deeper than she had since waking stiff and sore from running through a dripping forest.
The Gong Zhu Hai pulled into Skaguak on a clear bright afternoon, the short summer at its peak in the Southern Territories. Katara stood on the bow as they coasted gently into the wharf, the captain using only a light touch of the engines to stop the vessel. The connection crackled like static, whispers of scents and images joining the trickle of emotion, and she tried to dampen its presence in her mind as she spoke with Zhao. "So I'll get you checked in at the Huakao Hotel this afternoon – it's the best one in town. Then we can get you and your party outfitted tomorrow."
Zhao's faint smile slipped almost into a frown before he caught himself. "Ms. Katara, I know I need not stress the urgency of this mission to you, but I fear that we are wasting precious time by not performing these necessary tasks as expediently as possible."
Katara shook her head. "Down South Outfitters is closed today – the owner always takes Mondays off – but I can leave him a message saying to be ready for us tomorrow. It'll be faster anyway if he has a little time to get ready for us." Zhao opened his mouth and she spoke quickly before he could protest again. "We can leave the day after tomorrow, early – we'll make better time if we start out fresh."
Displeasure colored Zhao's expression for a moment, but then his almost-sincere smile returned, even as irritation surged beneath the smooth surface. "Will you join us for dinner at the hotel, then, Ms. Katara?"
Katara shook her head again, trying to keep the gesture casual. "No, I need to check on my own gear and get my stuff ready, so that I can get you and your men ready tomorrow."
"Very well." Zhao's expression changed to a faint smirk, almost sincere if not for the frustration coloring his emotions, and the purser opened the gangplank's gate. "To the Huakao Hotel, then."
Katara focused on her relief at being away from Zhao and his associates for even just the evening as she walked quickly to the Golden Peaks, hoping for a hot bath to soothe her jitters before –
Before what, Katara? she asked herself and the connection jumped, throbbed for a moment before retreating again, but she didn't allow herself to think of the answer and instead quickened her pace.
Ho Ten greeted her with wariness behind his usual exuberance, then broke into profuse apology. "I am sorry, Katara, but this summer has already been exceptionally busy, and as I was uncertain as to the date of your return, I was forced some days ago to rent your room to a distinguished lady and her delightful children." He paused to draw breath but spoke again before Katara could collect her thoughts enough to reply. "I did so with much regret, you must understand, and have no fear as to your possessions, for I consulted first with your friends as to the appropriateness of this decision, and they assured me that you would not take it so poorly as to sever your long and valuable relationship with the Golden Peaks."
He drew breath in again, but this time watched Katara nervously.
"Which… friends?" she finally asked, and Ho Ten looked relieved at her calm tone.
"The little blind one – Lady Bei Fong – and the new man with the scar," he responded and her innards crystallized like skeins of ice over a pond in the winter's first frost. "They removed your possessions and I assume that they are at the lady's residence now."
Katara nodded, and turned towards the door, her mind blessedly numb.
"I trust I will see you again after this most busy of summer seasons is over?" Ho Ten called after her, but she shut the door and stepped into the street rather than reply.
She walked slowly through Skaguak, the connection pulsing – humming – in her mind as she neared Toph's building. The town seemed silent in comparison, despite the people hurrying around her, talking and eating and laughing and buying in the shops lining the streets.
She reached the alley and Toph's kitchen door too soon and raised her hand to knock, hoping desperately for Toph to answer, but she could feel him move beyond the think wooden door and she braced herself.
I think it's going to be okay, Sokka's voice said in her memory, and Katara shut her eyes as the knob turned.
